by Maura Milan
The engineers on her team had already finished re-creating the replica of Penance. It was an immaculate copy, she had to admit. Her engineers were a disparate group of Fringers, Dead Spacers, and even some who’d defected from the Commonwealth. Quite a few of the workers were former slaves whom Einn had bought from the Armada. Once they set foot on Nirvana, they were freed and presented with a choice: to go back to their normal lives, or to contribute to a greater purpose, one that would ultimately change the entire universe. Most of them, Einn said, had stayed.
Everyone worked well together, while the builder borgs carried out their plans, executing the precise instructions on Brinn’s updated designs. This model would be better and more power-efficient than the GodsEye in Bastian’s blueprints. And it would work.
Brinn walked to the main console and took a seat, her fingers finding their natural place on a floating set of holokeys. She nodded to the test site. “Let’s begin.”
Her fingers flew like they were on an instrument, but the music was the drone of machines. Soon everything was powered on, the hum growing like a crescendo. The archways began to spin, around and around, building enough momentum to create a gravitational force large enough to withhold a spatial tear within its arches. Everything was working perfectly, and all they needed was to see a glimpse of something new in its center. Stars that were never discovered, beasts that would never roam their universe, particles and atoms that existed only in another space and time.
Yet nothing happened.
Not even a pinhole to peek through.
Brinn had scoured over every detail, every equation, every outcome. It should have worked.
She had failed.
Brinn and Einn walked slowly down the length of the hallway. She stared at the view of Nirvana, the planetoid colony floating outside, but her mind was elsewhere, swamped with a maze of thoughts trying to troubleshoot her own failure.
“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Einn said. “It’s going to work. Eventually.”
“How can you be so sure?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t have been born if this wasn’t possible.”
She stopped and stared at him, her eyebrows crinkled as if weighted down by an immense gravity.
“From the look on your face, it seems like your people haven’t told you,” Einn said. “The Commonwealth was successful in opening the bridge several years ago. And when that happened, someone stepped out of it. My father.”
“Does Ia know?”
Einn nodded.
Brinn glanced away. Yet another thing that Ia had failed to mention. She had built a shield of secrets around her, and she never let Brinn get past it.
“Is this why you want to open that gate? To find your father?” Brinn asked.
He shook his head. “My father left me with nothing but a hole. A hole that was filled with ambition,” Einn added harshly. Then his voice grew calm and even. “You asked why I want Penance to work. But do I need a why? I want to do it because I can. To do something as great as Deus herself. Isn’t that enough?”
“We’re not gods,” she said.
He backed away, his lips turned upward in a mischievous smile. “What if I am…?”
If anyone else said what he did, she would have laughed. But with Einn, she wasn’t so sure. She was a Tawny, her brain seeped in numbers and science. She didn’t know anything about Deus, or if she really did exist. But she had seen what Einn could do at Rigel Kentaurus, something that was physically impossible by the laws of their universe.
In the corner of the sky, she saw the blink of lights, growing intense with each ticking second, too fast to be a passing comet.
Someone had arrived.
Brinn glanced over at Einn, who had stopped to watch its approach. He had noticed it, too. It was hard not to. The ship was large, a giant silhouette against the blazing sun. She squinted to make out the lettering on the side. Her jaw grew slack.
Sino Corp.
Brinn followed Einn to the docking bays to meet the new guests. The ship came with ten envoys. Fighter jets with enough firepower to take down anyone who’d mess with the main ship. Anyone could see it for what it was. A small fleet.
Brinn stared at the Sino Corp logo brandished across the ship’s frame. No matter which way she thought about it, this was a bad idea.
As they approached the vehicles, Brinn started to slow her pace. Einn turned, noticing one less patter of footsteps ricocheting through the open space. “What’s wrong?”
She nodded back to the main atrium. “I don’t think I should be present.”
“Nonsense,” he said as he shook his head. “You’re the main engineer. You’re coming with me.”
“But, sir—”
He held up a hand to interrupt her. “I’ve always hated that word. Just call me Einn.”
She was taken aback by his lack of formality and casual manner, especially when he had just nearly destroyed one of the largest cities in the Olympus Commonwealth. If it was Ia, she would have insisted on being called Sovereign, or Blood Wolf, or something of the like.
“Einn,” she said. “I’m sure you already know this, but the Sinoblancas family is very public about their opposition to the Sanctuary Act. The act is dead now because of them.”
The vote had happened a few weeks ago, almost immediately after the attack on the Rigel Kentaurus system. Thank Deus she had already been on Nirvana. She heard about the refugees rioting in the streets afterward, accompanied by the beatings they took from the Citizens and the roundups made by the Commonwealth guards. They were all being herded and shipped off. No one knew where. Just away.
She couldn’t sleep some nights, wondering what her parents were going through. Even if the mobs were turning against them, she wanted to hear something. Because at least then she’d know that they were still alive.
“Their political ties have no weight here,” Einn said. “This isn’t the Commonwealth.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Brinn pointed over to the massive ship settling in to anchor at the edge of the docking bay. “The Sinoblancas family doesn’t like refugees. Or Tawnies. They won’t like that I’m here. Trust me, Einn. One of them was in the academy with me. He hated me.”
Einn’s eyes landed on hers. They were a startling storm gray, so sharp it crackled at the air around them. “They won’t touch us, because we’re going to get them what they want. Money. Greed. That’s why they’re here.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“They come because they want the resources beyond the gate.”
Brinn furrowed her brow.
“It’s a partnership. Where do you think we get all this tech?” He swept a long arm at the space around them, motioning from the drone-controlled starjets to the large unit of builder borgs stationed in the corner. He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I stole all of this, did you?”
She did, but she didn’t say anything.
She swallowed, trying to quiet her fears. Here she was again, playing the same role of scared little Brinn, facing down an even larger monster, one that had its own set of teeth the shape of money and weapons.
Einn leaned in as if he could sense her worry. “If they do anything to you…” He unlatched one of the pistols at his side and tossed it toward her. She stumbled forward, managing to catch it. Einn nodded at the pistol in her hands, that calm smile still plastered across his face. “…you shoot them.”
She nodded, her fingers curving tightly around the grooves of the handle. Einn didn’t make her any grand promises. He never told her he’d protect her, or lay down his life for her. And somehow his response tore right through her. There was an old saying from Ancient Mars. If you give a starving man a fish, he’ll eat for a day. But give him the tools and teach him the way, then he can actually fight for his own existence.
Ahead, the entry ramp to the main Sino Corp ship cracked open. It lowered slowly until it boomed onto the floor. A line of men in crisp tailored jackets stepped out onto the deck.
Surprisingly, only two of them had the Sinoblancas dimpled chin. One she’d recognized as Kilio Sinoblancas, who had led the repeal vote in the Council. Once the vote had passed, he had stepped down from his position, resuming his leadership as CEO of Sino Corp, and now this man who had displaced millions of refugees from their homes stood in front of them. Her stomach churned with sudden anger.
Einn waited for the new visitor to be the first to speak. A power tactic, she noticed. He’d used it whenever anyone new had come to Nirvana. Except for her. He always spoke first when it came to her.
Perhaps that was a strategic move as well.
“Galatin,” CEO Sinoblancas said. “Good to see this place is shaping up. We’ve brought new goods for you to play with.”
Einn nodded at the fleet that was parked beside the main ship. “And those?”
Kilio Sinoblancas smiled, the dimple on his chin raising ever so slightly. “The Star Force has been crowding us lately. I think that general suspects something. You never know when they’d want to come onboard for a routine search. Those ships are for when things get a little less routine.”
Brinn angled her head. Were the Star Force and Sino Corp at odds? That was the first she’d heard of it, especially since Sino Corp was the Force’s main weapons supplier.
The CEO’s gaze shifted, settling on the shock of navy-blue hair on the top of Brinn’s head. From the flicker of disgust in his eyes, she knew instantly what he was thinking. Mungbringer.
“And who is this?” he asked.
But before the man could inquire any further, a voice snaked in, interrupting the conversation. “So this is what Nirvana looks like…”
Brinn glanced over as a very recognizable skull on a very recognizable head materialized before them, the photo sensors on his suit mimicking the melanin-shifting cells on his skin. She could ask him where he’d gotten that camo armor, but she’d already suspected that a Sino Corp tag could be found underneath the hem of his collar.
“I see you finally got it together for this inevitable rendezvous,” Einn said.
“These whelps were kind enough to let me hitch a ride.”
Kilio Sinoblancas’s expression hardened as if he had no idea Goner had been on the ship for the duration of their trip. Goner’s white lips lifted up in pleasure. When he saw Brinn, his grin grew wider, dripping with mischief.
“Well, well,” Goner hissed. “If it isn’t Cōcha’s friend…”
Again, all eyes turned to her.
“This is Brinn Tarver, our head engineer,” Einn cut in. “She’s the one who’s going to turn Penance from an average interstellar gate to a bridge between universes. Then it’ll all be yours, gentlemen, a wealth of resources for the picking.”
Brinn expected them to scoff at her presence, to order their guards to drag her from the room. Instead, they all nodded in approval.
“Of course,” the CEO said, and then his voice softened to a more accommodating tone. “Please let us know if you need any of our assistance.”
A ripple of shock ran down her spine, and all she could manage was a slight tilt of her chin as a response.
Einn place a hand calmly on her shoulder. “Why don’t you show Goner around while I bring our guests to their quarters?”
Brinn was glad to make her escape. She looked over at Goner. “Let’s go.”
Goner followed her until they were out of sight. She was starting to motion over to the equipment when he turned and waved her off. “I don’t need a tour.”
“Then why are you following me?”
He sighed. “I didn’t want to stick around.” He nodded back to the Sino Corp group still standing on the flight deck. His eyes landed on Einn and then snapped back to hers.
“You better watch yourself, little girl. I see that look on your face.”
What look? She scrunched up her eyebrows and pulled her lips up in a snarl to hide whatever he thought he saw.
Goner pointed over to where Einn had disappeared. “Einn is a bigger monster than Ia ever was.”
Brinn’s face went red. “I disagree. He’s more rational than Ia. Grounded, in a way.”
Goner snorted. “Einn only believes in chaos. He doesn’t have reasons for doing anything. At least I’ve never figured them out.”
“And you do? You had a reason for killing Ia?”
Brinn stood by her decision to leave with Einn, but that day still haunted her, watching from the window of Shepherd as Goner pointed his pistol at this girl who was fiercer and braver than anyone, this girl who once was her friend. She wouldn’t mourn her, she told herself, trying to harden her heart.
“She’s my nemesis,” Goner answered. “Killing her was something I’ve always been destined to do. All it takes is one bullet.” He jabbed a finger at his temple and exhaled with glee. “That was one good day.”
As he stepped away, Goner pointed at the weapon in her hand. “Careful there. You don’t want to shoot the floor.”
Brinn looked down at her arm. Her knuckles had gone white from clutching her pistol so hard. Her finger was already on the trigger as if she wanted to strike.
Apparently, her heart wasn’t as closed off as she’d thought.
CHAPTER 27
KNIVES
KNIVES PACED in front of the rusting metal door that led to Ia’s room. He wanted to go inside, but he couldn’t bring himself to tap his finger against the sensor.
“She’ll be okay,” he muttered to himself. “She’ll be fine.”
He dragged his fingers through his hair, now greasy from the lack of showers on Myth. The old space station was on water rations until the next ice haul from the nearest asteroid belt came through. But even then, Eve had explained that their budget for ice purchases wasn’t on her priority list.
Showering was the least of his concerns. He stopped pacing and stared at the door. His life was full of doors, and most of them he wanted closed. There were always things he didn’t want to face on the other side.
She’ll be fine. That was what Meneva had told him. She would heal. Her body would be whole again. But it’d been a few weeks since she woke up, and Ia still hadn’t tried to walk, or even sit up on her own. Can she move? he wondered. He couldn’t just barge in and ask.
Finally, he tapped his knuckles on the sensor, and once he could get his fingers around the edge of the door, he grabbed and pulled, helping it on its way. Inside, the room was dark because Ia had at some point insisted that the fluorescent light hurt her eyes. She was asleep, her forehead slick from night sweats and her body straight like it was when she was back in the hospital. Because she wasn’t yet capable of rolling over, or curling up, or moving her body to get comfortable.
If he had brought her in to the hospital five minutes later, Meneva had said…but if he had found her minutes earlier, then she’d probably wouldn’t be stuck in this bed. He’d have been there. He could have tried to save her.
Not tried. Yes, Knives told himself, he would have saved her.
He could have saved so many people. If he was faster, stronger, better. Maybe if he was more like his father.
Marnie would be alive.
And so would Bastian.
And Ia would stand in front of him once again and smile.
Normally, he’d have called out to her. Put on the brightest grin that he had buried deep in some hidden crevice inside him and persuade her out of bed. But today he backed out of her room, trying not to make any noise.
It was after hours, and most of the patrons had already left for the night. Knives was on the couch, facing the observation window, his gaze lost in the All Black. He wondered where the Star Force was in that sprawl before him.
A trace of shadow lengthened across the floor, and he looked over to see Eve leaning against the pillar, looking at the same view. She glanced down at him. “If you’re going to sit on your ass, I need you to at least be useful.”
“Productive sitting isn’t a thing,” he replied.
He propped his elbows on his knee
s, resting his head on his palms while he studied her. Even with the fluorescent lights crackling above, he knew a scheme was hatching behind those eyes.
Eve nodded to the distant stars as she blew out a fresh trail of vapor. “You fly,” she pointed out. “I need to send someone out for a pickup.”
“Where?”
“At a race space,” she said. “The Harix Corridor. You know it?”
Of course he did. It was one of the hardest, most dangerous racetracks in the known galaxies, and his sister had flown that course in ten seconds. He’d always wanted to see that space for himself.
“There’s been one victor for the past year,” Eve explained. “Remind him that there’s a world outside that race.”
That’s when Knives realized he wasn’t picking up something, but someone.
“Is this guy really that important?” he asked.
“Ia is our best shot at taking Einn down,” she said. “It’s not because she’s strong or quick. It’s because there are still people out there who would rally alongside her. And the guy I’m sending you out to find is one of them.”
But Knives couldn’t just walk into that race space and say hello. He had seen the streams for the Allmetal Cup. The victors were placed on sky-high pedestals before and after the race. It would be the same at Harix. “If he’s the victor, it’ll be hard to even get close to him.”
Eve leaned in. “Not if you win.”
He stared at her as he realized what she was saying. She wanted him to race.
But before he could protest, Eve winked at him. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have that prize money as well.”
CHAPTER 28
IA
IA HADN’T EVEN BOTHERED to try to take that first step on the cold, hard floor. To connect. Because that would mean she’d be awake.
What’s more, she couldn’t feel when Knives’s hand was on hers, or the rough cotton wrapped around her arms. She could barely feel anything, except for the pain. It was the only thing that was left, smothering her so that she couldn’t see the world around her.
