by Lea Linnett
Helik’s eyes slipped closed on a sigh. “Ellie. She… she left.”
“What?” came the xylidian’s razor-like exclamation, and Helik winced. “You let her go?”
“I told her to go back to Manufacturing—it’s safer there, and—”
“Are you joking?”
“No, I—”
“Why would you let her go?!”
Helik shrank back a little, despite Roia not being in the room with him. He’d never heard her this panicked before, not even when she brought news of Devis and Scott. “She wanted to go, Roia. And it’s not safe for her to be around me.” He worried at his lip. “We found evidence of tampering—just like at Devis’ place.”
There was nothing but the crackle of the connection for a long moment, until, “Do they know anything?”
“No, it only got put in this morning. While we were out.”
“Fuck.” For a moment, the background noise on Roia’s end swelled, until her voice cut sharply over the comm again. “And she doesn’t have any credits?”
His heart jumped in his chest, guilt rolling through him. “No. And I have no idea where she is. She… she refused to go to Manufacturing.”
“Then why didn’t you make her stay?”
“I couldn’t force her…”
Roia grunted, as if she fundamentally disagreed with that. “Then I don’t know what we can do. We’re still getting calls here about the Devis situation—the donors are worried about being associated with her through the program.”
“They can wait, we have to find her.”
“Helik. Donations have already been pulled. We’re in full-on damage control here. I can’t leave, and you have to think about making a statement. I’ve scheduled a live conference for tomorrow afternoon. You need to make our position clear.”
“She’s alone, Roia.”
“I doubt that,” his assistant snapped. “She knows other humans in the Senekkar, Helik. She’ll find her way.”
“But—”
“Focus, please. I’m worried, too. But the program’s about to go belly up. We’ve been giving callers a standard no-comment response, but we’re losing support. What’s our position?”
Helik blew out a shuddering sigh. His argument with Ellie was still fresh in his thoughts, but there was really only one option.
“Devis acted alone, and the program does not support her. Her views are not ours. She is effectively no longer participating in the program.”
He waited, anticipating a retort as Roia joined Ellie in saying he was a heartless monster. But the xylidian only grunted an affirmative. “Thank you. I’ll let my team know.”
“You’re not going to argue with me?”
A beat. “It isn’t my place to dispute the decisions of my employer, Helik.”
“But you think I’m wrong.”
“Helik.” She hesitated, hissing a curse. “I personally agree with Ellie. But I understand why you don’t.”
“Okay.” Helik’s mind had gone oddly blank, as if someone had ripped his thoughts out from under him. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Get some sleep. Or come to the office.”
“Ellie might come back…” he pointed out, weakly.
“Then stay. But we need you tomorrow. Prepare your speech.”
“Right.”
Roia hung up, and Helik stared blankly at the balcony, watching the green-blue sun set somewhere in the distance, past the domes. He tore his gaze away, forcing himself to look at the small wristlet still clutched between his fingers. This was his fault. He’d driven her away.
He pressed the wristlet to his brow, flinching away from the cool metal. It would have been warm on her wrist, flushed with her body heat.
In a fit of frustration, he tossed the machine away, watching it bounce once and skid beneath a sofa. He clenched his fists, unable to deal with the fear and anger warring hot and cold within his stomach.
There were no masks left. Gone was his old ability to hide behind layers and layers of pretension, sheltering his real emotions behind a squeaky-clean persona. After so many years, he’d began to wonder if he even could feel anything other than fear and paranoia. Ellie had taught him how wrong he was, but she’d taken the lighter feelings out the door with her, leaving him only with anger, worry, and guilt to bubble alongside the fear.
He wanted her back, missed her calming presence. For a giddy moment, he wished she would walk back into the room and stitch up the gaping hole in his chest that had plagued him for nearly two decades and reopened with her absence.
Unable to claw through the tangle of emotions in his head, he dropped to the floor, coiling his arms around his legs. He watched the sun set in the distance and wished for Ellie’s warmth against his back.
30
“The Lodestars?”
Ellie stared around at the collection of humans and aliens that filled Cara’s upstairs living room. A few were in old scraps of clothing that had seen better days—functional items in sensible colors not made for showing off—but many wore thicker gear. There were modified tactical vests and trousers with deep pockets, gloves with the index fingers cut off and heavy boots.
She gulped. These people looked like they were getting ready for a war.
“We’re a resistance group,” Cara said proudly. “Our people are growing in number here on Continent 2, and there’s a small cell on Continent 1.”
“You fight the levekk?” Ellie asked, eyes wide.
Cara’s sure expression faltered slightly. “Not exactly. We focus on supporting sub-species and getting them out of bad situations. But we’ve gone after bigger fish as well.”
“But—but they have an army,” Ellie squawked, looking around at the rebels again. “They have weapons.”
“We have weapons too,” said a new voice, and Taz appeared in the doorway. It’s not like we’re assaulting enforcers head on. Not anytime soon, at least.”
“The point is,” said Cara, “that we can keep you safe. That’s what we’ve always done. The Lodestars are a safe-haven for anyone who’s been mistreated by the levekk—”
“So basically anyone without scales and a cock-shaped skull,” Taz interrupted, and Ellie felt the blood rush to her face.
“Taz.”
“What?” The dark-haired woman threw up her arms as her sister rounded on her. “That plate looks really weird, you gotta admit.”
Cara rolled her eyes, turning to the room at large. “Everyone, this is Ellie. She was in Kaan’s program with me—worked for the big guy himself.”
“She worked for Kaan?” croaked the Calideez martian from his spot in the corner.
“That’s right,” said Cara, when Ellie only nodded mutely. “She left today, and she’s going to be staying with us for a while.”
“Is that a good idea?” said one of the cicarians, his skin a dusky pink. “He’s the worst of the worst.”
Cara frowned. “Your point, Deeno?”
Deeno’s eyes were large and lilac, and they pierced Ellie as he looked her up and down. “What if Kaan sent her?”
“That’s ridiculous. There’s no way he knows about us.”
“You don’t know that,” Deeno insisted. “They wouldn’t let just anyone work for the program leader—they hand pick—”
He was interrupted by the cicarian beside him planting a sharp elbow in his side. This one was unmistakably female, her jawline soft and her head narrower, with skin that was pale green in color. “Shut up, Deeno,” she hissed, and leaned in to whisper something to him that Ellie just managed to catch. “Don’t scare her off, she might be able to give us info on Kaan.”
“No, I agree with Deeno,” said the Calideez martian, his eyes narrowing behind his goggles. “She’s the one from the broadcasts right? She’s obviously favored. They could have sent her to scope us out.”
“Yeah,” said Deeno. “Who knows what they’ve put into her head?”
“Look, there’s no way Ellie could have known what we’re do
ing here,” Cara snapped. “You think I’d have compromised my position? Let it slip? She’s staying, and that’s final.”
The aliens subsided, but the Calideez martian continued to glare, his eyes narrowed down to mean slits.
“This is just proof of what we’ve said about Kaan all along,” Cara continued, ignoring him. “This program isn’t there to care for us. It’s being used to exploit us, divide us. If even the leader of the program is mistreating his ‘employee,’ then there’s little hope for the rest of the humans.”
She turned to Ellie.
“You can stay as long as you want. There’s no more beds, but there’s extra bedrolls in the laundry. Anna will hook you up.” Behind her, Anna nodded enthusiastically, but Cara paused, biting her lip. “We could also help you get in contact with your guardian.”
“You could?” Ellie’s breath quickened, but her joy was short-lived. “You know she doesn’t have a phone…”
“We can work with that,” Cara said, waving a hand. “What’s her name?”
“Augusta. She owns Augusta’s Clothier’s.”
“Too easy. Our people in Manufacturing will get her a phone and—”
“Cara,” called a voice, and they both turned to see a pindar sticking her thick neck through the gap between Taz’s side and the edge of the doorway. “Could you come check out this new drone add-on? I want to have a second set of eyes on it before we start deploying.”
“Sure, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Drones?” Ellie asked as the pindar popped back out of the room.
Cara nodded, starting to drift after the alien. “Yeah, we’ve started using them for reconnaissance. They’re really handy for getting a bird’s eye view of things.”
“Wait.” Ellie paused, the hairs on her neck standing on end as she realized something. “Those pictures of Scott. His levekk lives in a penthouse…”
They stepped into the corridor, and a secretive smile lit up Cara’s face. “He’d been acting strangely for weeks, it would be crazy not to be suspicious. So when we got the first drones working, I decided to test them out on him. To be honest, though, I expected to get footage of that bitch hitting him, not…” She made a face, shuddering.
But Ellie barely registered the woman’s disgust. “You got the pictures?” Ellie asked, her voice tight.
“Uh-huh. We put peepholes in the bedroom and living room. Just put a little hole in the glass, send a drone up there and thread a camera wire through remotely and there you go. It was at night, too, so they never even noticed. Pretty awesome, huh? Then I just gave the information to Remmie, and it was all sorted.”
“Remmie…” Ellie recognized that name. “That cicarian reporter? The one who was following Scott around?”
“Yeah. Sorry—I heard he hassled you. We had to cover our bases.”
Ellie blinked at the other girl, unable to keep the stunned look off her face. “D-did you catch anyone else?”
“Not yet, but soon,” said Cara. “We’ve gotten access to five more residences—including Kaan’s actually. We have no way of knowing how the humans are being treated—this is the only way to expose it.” She stepped closer, placing a hand on Ellie’s arm. “I’m really glad you’re here, though. Truly. After Scott… You always defended Kaan, and I was terrified that you might be like him.”
Ellie’s face went pale. “You thought I was…?”
Cara nodded again, looking strangely guilty. “I didn’t want to, but… Anyway, I’m glad. Means we won’t get any more gross surprises when we look in on Kaan, at least.”
She made to turn away, presumably to check out the drones, but Ellie stopped her. “Cara…” She gulped, scared to ask her next question. She’d been all through this apartment now, even upstairs, which was meant to be off-limits, but she hadn’t yet seen a hint of scales. “W-where’s your employer?”
Cara went still, her shoulders relaxing as if she’d been expecting the question. She gave Ellie a long look, her brown eyes calculating. “I’ll show you.”
Ellie followed the other human with trepidation, terrified of what she might be being led to.
Cara was the one to reveal Scott and Devis’ secret? Cara was the one who’d put them in danger? She wondered if the woman understood how bad the consequences might be for Scott. That his life could even be at risk.
She pursed her lips, her mind racing. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see how the levekk that lived here had ended up if these people cared so little for another human.
Cara stopped outside a door at the end of the hall. A simple padlock was slung through an external latch that had been screwed into the door, and while such setups were common out in places like Manufacturing, it looked completely out of place in a levekk-owned apartment in the city. Cara pulled a key from her pocket, clicking the padlock open and sliding the bolt across, and Ellie held her breath as the door edged open with a soft creaking noise.
She followed Cara into the room, bracing for the stench of rotted flesh or the sight of blood, but when she opened her eyes, the room was clean. And against the back wall, his arms tied behind his back and a sock filling his mouth, was a levekk.
She couldn’t tell much about him, apart from the fact he was male. The color of his eyes was hidden as he squinted against the light from the door, and his brow plate dipped into an angry V-shape at the sight of Cara. He struggled against his bonds, and Ellie noticed a thick gash running over his shoulder, piercing his shirt and the skin beneath. But he was alive, which sent a wave of relief through Ellie.
“He’s not dead,” she breathed, and Cara let out a bark of laughter.
“Of course not. The situation’s not quite that dire. Yet.”
“Has he been eating?”
“He had a protein bar yesterday.” Cara shrugged. “Should be enough for the next week or so for a levekk.”
Ellie took another look at the alien, still squirming on the floor, and abruptly backed out of the room. Cara joined her, locking it behind them with a definitive click.
“Won’t they wonder where he is?”
Cara shrugged again. “He’s on vacation. At least for the next three weeks.”
Ellie clutched her arms, the sight of the levekk bound and injured making her hands shake. “What happens in three weeks?”
“The closing ceremony. For the program? We’ve got some fun stuff planned,” the brunette added, toying with the key between her fingers.
But Ellie didn’t like the sound of that, her heart jumping into her throat. “What do you mean?”
Cara grinned, backing away towards the living room. “Fireworks,” she said, bringing a secretive finger to her lips as she spun on her heel.
Time stopped for Ellie, the corridor around her suddenly feeling flimsy and unreal. Fireworks…? That could only mean one thing, couldn’t it? She’d seen the gear these people were sporting, and the injuries on that levekk. This wasn’t going to be a peaceful protest.
She followed the other human to the living room with shaking feet, looking around the apartment with new eyes.
Helik was in danger.
And she needed to find a way to warn him.
31
The second day of damage control saw Helik at his desk at Kaan Tower, waiting with eyes unfocused for the levekk donor standing before him to calm down.
“This is a nightmare, Kaan! You know what I told the press the day of your fucking cultural exchange party? That I wanted to help out with a truly progressive cause. What I didn’t want was for my company to be tied to a scandal! The headlines write themselves, and those fucking reporters are already compiling lists of donors.”
“Niiren, I understand that you’re upset,” said Helik, the words sounding muffled and distant to his own ears. “But this program doesn’t in any way support the illegal actions of its participants. Devis Sidana is effectively no longer a part of the program and will be punished by the Guides in due course.”
The levekk threw up his hands, pacing back
and forth in front of the desk like a wild animal, but all Helik really saw was a blur. “Well, why haven’t you said that? Publicly?”
“We shouldn’t need to. I’m a government official, I’m never going to advocate breaking the law—”
“Well, you need to make that clear!” Niiren spat. “Your family has always tested the boundaries. The reports are saying this is a ploy for publicity.”
Helik blinked back to reality, his brow plate swooping downward. He caught himself before he could raise his voice, his frustration already slipping through the blank mask that he’d been cultivating all morning. “That’s ridiculous,” he said, claws gripping the table. “No publicity is worth going to prison. Why would I jeopardize my family’s name, my career, for something like this?”
Niiren paused, eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t have believed it myself, but you and Sidana are close. Then there’s those rumors about your mother’s program. The school?”
Helik’s blood froze in his veins, and he had to fight to keep his composure.
“It was a gamble getting involved in the first place, Kaan. I was warned against it by some.” He put his hands on the desk, leaning forward. “I can’t have them be right.”
“Well, they aren’t right, and we’ll be making an official statement later today. This is just a hiccup, Niiren. Caused by someone who took advantage of our goodwill and the opportunities we provided. Sidana is an anomaly,” he insisted, even as something inside him shriveled.
Ellie would have torn him to shreds if she heard him speaking of Devis in such a way. But she wasn’t here, he reminded himself, and tried to swallow back the sick feeling that the thought gave him.
Before him, the levekk donor was shaking his head, tapping his claws against the metallic surface of Helik’s desk. “I don’t think I can stay with this, Kaan. It’s too much, it’s too uncertain. And the backlash is already coming in—our profits have dropped by ten percent…” He met Helik’s eyes. “I have to pull out. Completely. All future donations from Niiren Enterprises are canceled, effective now. I won’t ask you to refund what I already gave you, but as of now, we’re done.”
