The Clouded Sky

by Megan Crewe

  “Now it all depends on Thlo,” Isis says, but she’s beaming. “We’re going to find ourselves a real home—no avoiding it. And you have your home back, completely.”

  “Yeah.” I gaze at Earth’s surface on the main screen. The time field was never visible to the naked eye, but somehow my planet looks different. Even brighter and more beautiful than before. I know, whatever’s waiting for me there, however the people I know have aged, I’ll be all right, one way or another.

  “It’s been amazing, working with you,” I say, starting to choke up as I look back at their bright faces. Even Emmer, who’s been standoffish before, radiates joy. “I wish I could have gotten to know all of you better. If you hadn’t been willing to do this . . .”

  I can’t imagine that we Earthlings could ever have freed ourselves alone.

  “Working together, we can become something so incredible that we’ll set all our lives on a completely different course,” Win says, quoting Jeanant’s recorded speech. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  That sets off another round of laughter and chatter, until Isis clears her throat. “I don’t want to spoil the moment,” she says, “but while we’ve disabled the weapons on the satellite and the jetter, more ships could be on their way. It’s time for us to leave.”

  Which means it’s time for me to leave too. For a second I can’t breathe. Then she and Britta sweep me into a second embrace. I think all of us have damp eyes when we step apart. “Good luck back on Kemya,” I say.

  Win’s retrieved a familiar bundle of slick black cloth. “It can’t take us through time now,” he says. “But it’ll take us from the ship’s Travel bay down to one of those on Earth.”

  My last jump with him. I said good-bye to him once before, and it didn’t stick. But this time . . . This time it’s for good.

  “Hey,” he says, catching something in my expression. “Maybe when we’re settled in on our new planet, I’ll be able to swing by and visit.”

  Years and years from now? I have no idea what my life will look like in even ten minutes. But I guess I’m about to find out. “Sounds like a plan,” I say, and reach to take his hand for the last time.

  “Wait,” Emmer says, leaning over his console. “I’m getting a strange reading from the satellite.”

  The celebratory energy in the room dampens. “What?” Britta says, dropping onto the stool at the console beside him. Isis moves to one of the wall screens.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” Emmer says. “The sensor readings are distorted this far around the planet.”

  “Adjust the . . .” Britta switches into Kemyate, offering a series of suggestions in technical terms as she eyes her own display.

  “Can you see anything more?” I press after a minute.

  “It looks as if the satellite is expelling some large object,” Britta says, her expression puzzled. “We still can’t detect what it is.”

  “Let’s pull a little closer,” Isis says. “They’ve got nothing left to shoot at us with. Keep your eyes open just in case.”

  I step toward the main screen, watching the view adjust as our ship edges back toward the satellite, easing away from Earth at the same time to maintain our distance. Emmer taps at his console.

  “They’ve dropped the object into the planet’s atmosphere. Still no clear identification on it.”

  “No further activity from the satellite,” Britta says. “Hold on. The jetter’s starting to move.”

  “Is there any reason for them to be sending something to Earth now?” I say, but no one answers. Isis is poking at her screen, her face looking increasingly drawn. Win joins me, studying the view in silent confusion.

  “The object,” Emmer says, frowning, “it looks like it’s . . . heating up.”

  “The jetter’s heading our way,” Britta says. “Should we retreat?”

  “We have to know what they’re doing!” I say. This is wrong, even if there isn’t a single shift involved. I know it, down to my bones.

  “Temperature continuing to increase,” Emmer says, and Isis backs away from her screen. She darts over to consult his.

  “No,” she says softly in Kemyate.

  “Isis?” I say, and at the same moment, a signal flares on Emmer’s display, so large and bright I catch it from across the room. He lets out a strangled yelp. And on the huge screen in front of us, the edge of the atmosphere catches fire.

  My mouth drops open as a wave of churning flame rushes around the curve of the Earth. Swallowing the clouds, the blue and the green, the entire globe in its wake. In the time it takes me to blink, the fiery surge has washed all the way around the planet, leaving the immense sphere before us alight with a pulsing, swirling, magma-like haze.

  My legs give out. I sag onto my knees, staring. Win wavers, and reaches to grip my shoulder.

  “They wouldn’t have—” Tabzi starts, gaping. “Why would they—”

  “What is it?” I finally manage, unable to tear my gaze away. The flaming mass that’s all I can make out of my planet rages on, flickering red, orange, yellow . . . and starting to settle here and there into patches of a sickeningly familiar shade of violet. “What have they done?”

  Isis says a word I don’t recognize.

  “What?” I demand.

  “The power source, the one that melted down on Kemya,” Win says quietly. “They used it like a bomb.”

  The power source that melted down on Kemya. That turned their planet into the vacant, dust-strewn wasteland I saw with Odgan. My stomach lurches.

  “Make it stop!” I hear myself saying, though a distant part of me already recognizes that’s impossible. “Put it out! It’s going to—”

  My voice falters. The energy radiating across the console displays blazes right into the planet’s surface. It’s already happened. No one, no thing could survive in the midst of that.

  “There’s—ah—the Travel bay,” Britta says, struggling to control her voice. “Five people just came on board. They broke through our access codes.”

  The words barely register. The scorching haze on the screen in front of us fills my head. The image of it searing through my neighborhood, my school, my house, all the people . . .

  The door whispers open behind us. I fall back against the floor as I tear my gaze away.

  Four figures in Enforcer uniforms stride into the navigation room, blasters out, faces grim. The fifth intruder slips in from behind them, her impenetrable eyes sweeping the room.

  “Stay where you are,” Thlo says to all of us. “By the authority of the Council, you’re under arrest.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks go out to:

  The Toronto Speculative Fiction Writers Group and my critique partners Amanda Coppedge, Deva Fagan, and Gale Merrick, for their invaluable feedback.

  My agent, Josh Adams, for finding this trilogy its home.

  My editors, Miriam Joskowicz and Lynne Missen, for directing this story into the best possible form.

  Everyone at Amazon Skyscape and Razorbill Canada, for helping the book on its journey into the world.

  My family and friends, for their ongoing support.

  And of course, to Earth & Sky’s readers, for the messages of enthusiasm and for your eagerness to follow Skylar on her continuing journey.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2013 Chris Blanchenot

  Like many authors, Megan Crewe finds writing about herself much more difficult than making things up. A few definite facts: she lives with her husband, son, and three cats in Toronto, Canada (and does on occasion say “eh”); she tutors children and teens with special needs; and she can’t look at the night sky without speculating about who else might be out there. Along with the Earth & Sky trilogy, she is the author of the paranormal novel Give Up the Ghost and the postapocalyptic Fallen World trilogy. She can be found online at www.megancrewe.com.

  ded Sky