A Space Girl from Earth (The Kyroibi Trilogy Book 1)

by Christina McMullen

  “Catching them in transit is our best bet,” El’iadryov said with a faraway look as he considered Vito’s conundrum.

  “Okay, but how?” Ellie asked. “Even if we can hide the ship, we’ll still need to get on board his and I don’t think they won’t notice if we decide to dock with them. And that’s not taking these pirates into consideration.”

  “We won’t be docking. We won’t even be getting close enough to engage in battle. If we get within proximity and avoid the prying eyes of the Paisreatta, I can go over alone, disable control, and we can tow the ship back to Korghetia.”

  “That sounds utterly crazy,” Ellie scoffed. “Even if you manage to get over there without being shot, Svoryk’s got an army. You’ll be captured as soon as you board.”

  “Not if you’ve got a distraction.”

  Both Ellie and her father turned to Richard, who gave them both a conspiratorial smile.

  “Svoryk thinks I’m dead. If he gets a transmission from a cloaked ship and sees me standing on the bridge, I guarantee he won’t be paying any attention to what’s going on elsewhere.”

  “Okay sure, but Dad, that’s putting you in danger as well. This isn’t…”

  “A movie?” Richard finished Ellie’s thought and pursed his lips in challenge. “Ellie, he ordered me killed and kidnapped my wife. I know the dangers, but I also know I can do something instead of sitting here worrying myself sick. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  He had a valid point and there wasn’t really anything Ellie could say to convince him otherwise. After all, she was no more qualified and she felt the same way. Her mother and Julian were out there. Nothing would convince her to stay behind.

  “Any idea where they’re at now?” Vito asked, drawing two dots on his makeshift map.

  Ellie turned her thoughts inward and found her connection to Julian, overlaying the bond with the star map provided by the Kyroibi. “Barely out of the solar system.”

  “Hmm… That slow eh? Not good.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “By the time you catch up, they’ll be passing real close to the Oravaschaeal cluster. I don’t pretend I know all there is to know about the Paisreatta, but I do know they’ve had an outpost protecting their mining operations hidden there for generations. Looks like you’re going to need someone who speaks the lingo.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Ellie cut in. “You aren’t seriously thinking about coming along too, are you?”

  “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t. Your mom ain’t the only prisoner on that ship.”

  “Who else is a prisoner?”

  “Bethany.” It was Richard who answered. “She heard the commotion in your apartment.”

  If Ellie had eaten anything, it would have come up as her stomach gave a lurch. It was bad enough that her mother and Julian were in danger, but Bethany’s involvement made the situation a thousand times worse.

  “No, I suppose you wouldn’t feel right waiting here,” Ellie said at last, unable to keep the tremble of anger and fear from her voice. “But what about the bar?”

  Vito gave a shrug and looked over at his wife who had been watching the entire exchange in silence. “You think you can spare me for a couple three or four days?”

  “You kidding? With you outta the way I might actually get some work done.” Gertie’s tone was serious, but Ellie recognized the familiar dry humor. “He’ll never admit it, but I know he’s been going stir crazy being stuck on one planet for so long and I don’t pretend that’s not my fault.”

  “Oh? Where are you from?” Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman who looked every bit like a middle aged Earthling. She’d been silent through the whole conversation, giving Ellie no indication as to how she was involved or for that matter, how much she’d even known of her husband’s true identity.

  “Chicago,” Gertie answered with a wink. “But my secret’s safe unless we start talking pizza or baseball.”

  “Well then,” Ellie said with a mixture of pride and apprehension as she looked around the table. Three distinctly different father figures stared back. “Let’s plan a rescue mission.”

  Chapter 18

  Julian sat in his small cell, waiting for the sluggish ship to give him the information he requested. Since his capture, accessing the matrix had gotten progressively slower. He’d dismissed it as his own impatience at first, but there was no denying that something was seriously wrong with the vessel. Not even the crude retrofitting created specifically for the Emperor should have damaged the performance this much.

  Even stranger, he now met resistance each time he tried to gain access. As if the ship was repulsed by his touch. There was the possibility that this was an added measure to keep him out, but that didn’t add up. Had Svoryk suspected Julian of tampering, surely he would have been summoned at the very least.

  No, it had been over two days since his capture and other than Dryova’s initial visit, Julian had been left alone. This in itself wasn’t worrisome. In the years he spent playing at loyalty to the Empire, Julian had lost count of the number of times Svoryk left him locked away as one might a tool that was not in use. After all, to the Emperor, that’s all he’d been. But just as he had back then, Julian planned to use Svoryk’s arrogance against him.

  Dryova’s plan, while sound, did not sit well with him. She’d argued that calling attention to himself was an unnecessary risk. The ship was worthless and Svoryk was too well guarded both by gadgetry and those who were swayed by the lure of power. She had a point, but sitting idly by and waiting for something to happen was not the way Julian operated.

  That and if he were being honest, he still didn’t quite trust the former Kyroibi master. Her story had seemed genuine enough, but Julian had spent too much time in the company of her duplicitous sister to fully trust her. That she remained off the ship’s surveillance records entirely was disconcerting enough, but if she’d decided to pay a visit to Isaverlline, there was no telling what additional damage she might have done. He would have to do all he could to repair the damaged trust between himself and the Korghetian princess.

  But first, he needed to ensure the safety of Svoryk’s other prisoner. Not long after takeoff, Bethany was removed from Svoryk’s quarters and placed in a nearby holding cell. Julian found a small measure of humor in the fact that the cell was sound-proofed. He’d only met Bethany on a handful of occasions, but in the few instances in which they spoke, she did nothing to dispel the stereotype of the loud and brash New Yorker. That this would be the very trait that might save her life was the best irony Julian could ask for.

  At last he’d managed to get what he needed. Since the diode matrix was processing too slowly, he instead found and accessed the optical surveillance system. It was crude, providing only visual feedback of the interior of the cell, and it was a privacy violation that Julian was not comfortable with, but it was all he had. On the small screen he watched Bethany pace, drop to the floor for a set of push-ups, and yell what was most likely obscenities into the empty space around her.

  After another moment of tinkering, he removed the monitoring device from the wall and slid it into his pocket. It would have been much better if he could remotely connect the optical feed into his own neural network, but with the damage to the ship, Julian wasn’t sure that was safe, let alone effective. All that was left was to ensure his own escape went unnoticed.

  This was yet another task that would have been simple on a properly functioning ship. Creating a digital copy of his statistics was easy and avoiding detection was a simple matter of altering his appearance. But because the information matrix lag was getting progressively worse, Julian was unable to create a reliable proximity alert. He would have to resort to using a grounding stone. Admittedly, this would provide a much better cover, but it was something he hated doing with all his being.

  The procedure was painless, but incredibly uncomfortable and not something he could keep up for any length of time. Grounding ston
es were only meant to capture the abstractive root of the recently deceased and then only for short periods of time. Usually for the purpose of giving testimony in a court case. He’d only ever known two others who had used the stones long term and it was thanks to their experimenting that he discovered he could manipulate his own manifestation, despite his lack of abstraction.

  He pulled from his pocket a small, rough stone and held it in his palm, concentrating as he focused on transferring his very essence into the object. The previously pitted white sphere became a smooth, black orb that glinted with the trapped light. Julian created a makeshift cradle from a bit of discarded transfer silicate and placed the stone in its activation basin. The disorientation hit immediately and he steadied himself as his conscious perception was split into two.

  Two separate but identical consciousness stared at each other in what felt like a recursive nightmare. An eternity later, Julian was able to compartmentalize his replicate consciousness, not locking it away necessarily, but pushing it far into the background of his mind as he stepped out of the cell, assumed the common features of a generic Eidyssic guard, and strode down the corridor with the confidence of one who was where they were meant to be.

  Isaverlline sat on the edge of her thin and uncomfortable cot. The same place she’d sat for however many days she’d been Svoryk’s prisoner. Her anguish and pain had consumed all of her will to fight. She was numb, an empty shell.

  And yet, when the door to her cell opened, Isaverlline stood, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. Despite all she’d lost, she would not give the Emperor the satisfaction of seeing her broken. Or one of the Emperor’s faceless minions, as it seemed this one was.

  “Yes?” she said, affecting her frostiest tone and throwing her head back to look down her nose at the intruder.

  Julian allowed his disguise to vanish, but said nothing, bracing for the inevitable outburst.

  “You!” Isaverlline’s voice was harsh with disuse as she instinctively reached for the implant at her wrist. Her eyes blurred, blinded by both rage and tears of grief. “What are you doing here?”

  “I am here to help you, Isaverlline.” Julian measured his reply, using a calm tone meant to instill trust, but keeping himself from sounding too relaxed or casual.

  “Help? Help?” Her voice reached a shrieking pitch and she abandoned the broken interrupter, lunging instead for Julian’s body with the intent to gouge out his eyes. “You’re a murderer and a monster! By the gods, I will see you destroyed, Julian. I will make you suffer. I will make you pay. And when I tire, I will kill you with my bare hands.”

  Julian stood his ground, allowing Isaverlline to exhaust herself by beating on his head and chest. Her punches landed with an impressive force, knocking him off balance a few times, but still he did not fight back. The emotional outburst at least was a good sign. Her grief stemmed from concern for her family and not driven by a lust for power.

  But after several minutes, it became clear the Korghetian had more stamina than Julian had thought. Her punches continued to land with damaging force and unlike Bethany’s nearby cell, this one was not sound-proof.

  “Isaverlline, enough,” he said, finally taking her hands into an unbreakable grip, which only caused her to lash out with her feet instead. Julian ignored the jarring kicks to his shins and held fast. “Your anger is justified, but you need to understand that I have purposefully deceived you. Richard is alive.”

  “Lies! I watched you kill him,” Isa hissed through gasping sobs. “Just as I watched you kill El’iadryov.”

  “I do not deny taking the life of El’iadryov and I do not expect you to understand nor do I expect you will forgive me, but yes, Richard lives. You have within you the means to know I speak the truth.”

  Isa paused her struggling and glared at him. “What are you saying?”

  “The Kyroibi,” Julian explained. “It is more than a means of dominance, Isaverlline. The imprint left in you allows you to connect, to feel your loved ones. By my calculations, we are still close enough to Earth that you should feel your connection to your husband’s life force.”

  It was a gamble. Julian was unsure whether or not the Kyroibi’s connection would extend to Korghetians, let alone an Earthling, but it was a risk he had to take. Nothing he could say, no amount of influence used, would convince Isaverlline to trust him otherwise.

  “And exactly how am I supposed to—” Isaverlline cut off with a gasp as a new and completely alien feeling passed through her. It was as Julian said it would be. As if a thread—wound at one end around her heart—reached out through the emptiness of space and connected to that of her husband. He was alive. In fact, the feeling grew, as if he was coming closer, even though she knew that was impossible. And yet, Richard’s was not the only life that was calling to her.

  “Ellie,” she whispered, backing up until her legs met the edge of the cot.

  At the utterance of his true master’s name, Julian too noticed the strong force constricting his heart. El’iadrylline had returned from Ia’na Eidyn, and it seemed was on her way from Earth.

  “They’re alive. I can…” Isa collapsed, head into hands, her shoulders shaking as a sudden clarity bore down like a weight upon her shoulders. “By the gods, what have I done?”

  “Only what anyone else who was never meant to shoulder the burden of the Kyroibi would have done.”

  The statement was not entirely true. As a Korghetian and of the ruling class at that, Isaverlline had given over to the lure of power much more readily than would an Eidyn or even some of the other Ghowrn people, but Julian held that to himself. A tentative truce was necessary, especially as it seemed Ellie’s ship would soon be upon them. He only hoped she was still under the guidance of her father and had not taken off in a blind fury. Julian could not sense his former master, but that meant nothing. The Kyroibi’s bond did not transcend death.

  The reminder lingered like a dark cloud over his conscience. He’d done only what his master commanded, what El’iadryov felt was best for his family and his world. And so Julian did without question that which he had been created to do. Though as Isaverlline stared at him with deep and sorrowful pain in her eyes, he had to wonder if given the chance, would he again follow blindly the lead of his master? Knowing what he did now, Julian wasn’t so sure. That alone was worrisome, but more so was the fact that he was even capable of such defiant thoughts.

  “I do not expect you will suddenly find it in your heart to forgive my past actions,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Nor do I expect you would be understanding if I was to attempt to explain myself, but I hope you’ll at least accept that everything I have done, even that which is most difficult to reconcile, I did on El’iadryov’s command. Despite his death, I am honor-bound to uphold my promise to protect and keep you safe. But as my true master, El’iadrylline’s life is my greatest concern.”

  “I… I just want to know why,” Isa began, but trailed off, unable to reconcile exactly what it was she wanted to know. She couldn’t trust Julian. He may have spared Richard, but he never once denied killing El’iadryov.

  “El’iadryov was dying,” he admitted. “At any time he could have commanded me to assassinate the Emperor, but he did not want to leave the galaxy in turmoil knowing that he would not be there to make it right. Passing the Kyroibi to El’iadrylline was the only way to ensure that it did not end up in the hands of those who would use the power to corrupt.”

  “Like Andressa?” Isaverlline spat the name.

  “The Kyroibi is a dangerous weapon in the hands of anyone who is not prepared to bear the burden, but yes, Andressa—”

  “Andressa is no longer a threat to Ghowrn peace.”

  Julian froze and Isa gave a gasp as Dryova stepped from the shadows of the cell. Not only was she undetectable, but now it seemed she had preternatural stealth. All of the wary trust Julian had granted the woman evaporated in that moment.

  “Do not act so surprised.” Her voice held an icy and accusat
ory tone. “I asked you to exercise patience and here you are, planting the seeds of doubt into our only ally.”

  “I could easily say the same,” Julian countered. “Sneaking around in shadows and eavesdropping, all while completely undetectable through the ship’s access matrix.”

  “It would do no one any good if I allowed my actions to be tracked by that fool at the helm. But right now, we’ve no time for accusations and deception, Julian. Already your own shadow machinations nearly cost me my life. A grounding stone, really! Such a relic may be a toy in the hands of an artificial construct, but those of us with abstractive roots would prefer to keep them.”

  The outburst confused Julian. Certainly, grounding stones were rare, but dangerous only to the terminally infirm. Protectors of peace carried them routinely on T’al Eidyn. But instead of speaking out, he held his tongue, noticing the faint marbling and ever so slight protrusion of her diodes. The same sickness that had claimed her son was now consuming Dryova.

  Perhaps the illness was responsible for her strange behavior. That the degeneration was rare was a blessing for the people of Eidyn. Despite their vast knowledge and advancements, there was not yet a cure or even an effective treatment for the slow, ravaging, and immeasurably painful disease. Still, Julian remained on guard and wary.

  “You say time is short, yet you stand here and bluster,” Isaverlline snapped. “Why are you here, Andressa?”

  “Do not allow your anger to cloud your reason, Isaverlline,” the Eidyn woman admonished in an almost bored tone. “That my son thought it best to deceive us all was unfortunate, but I must insist you see the truth. I am Dryova.”

  “Dryova is dead. I was there with El’iadryov when we found the bodies of her and El’iazz,” Isaverlline hissed.

  “Andressa murdered my husband, yes,” Dryova acknowledged with a nod. “But when she turned her weapon on me, something curious happened. I felt no pain as the blade slid into my heart, but I heard my sister scream. In the next moment, I was standing over my own dead body with a dagger in my hand.”