Shades of Allegiance

by Sandy Williams

  Too damn bad. “I’m—”

  “This is Rhys,” Ash interjected. “I know him from the Fighting Corps.”

  Ash waded past him. Chace stared at him another handful of seconds, then followed.

  Rhys? She had never called him his given name. No one did anymore except his family. That meant she didn’t want Chace or Mira to know who he was. That was fine. He didn’t love being recognized, and he’d purposely grown his beard out on the way there in an attempt to remain anonymous.

  He followed the trio as they waded between the freight. More than a few crates had broken free of their braces and pitched over into the aisles. The water had risen to his chest, but it was no longer gushing through the bay. They’d either stopped sinking or their descent had slowed significantly. In other words, Ash had pulled a miracle out of the stars.

  He watched her swim toward the misshapen exit. Less than half a meter separated the ocean’s surface from the crumpled upper beam. And it was definitely an ocean. Ash floated into the sunlight and an endless stretch of black sea.

  Rykus detoured to the right of the exit where an emergency med-kit should be stowed. He saw it still fastened to the hull. Then he saw the face-up body floating a meter away.

  Not everyone had made it off the ship.

  Rykus jerked the ER kit free, slipped the straps over his shoulders, then waded toward the body. It was the crewman who’d been trying to fix the bay door. Rykus had given him the order to take up position there.

  A familiar pressure built in his chest, that feeling that he could have done something else, something different, that might have prevented this.

  But something different might have ended with all of them dead.

  Gritting his teeth, he unstrapped the man’s comm-cuff—he’d make sure the family received it—then he returned to the exit.

  Ash waited at the edge. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking up at the colossal, elevated tunnel arcing over the ocean: the North Causeway.

  Rykus had scanned the planet briefing before leaving the capsule. Three causeways linked Glory’s continents. It was old technology but quick and cheaper than air travel. The tube overhead was the longest, and Ash had crashed them within swimming distance of one of the huge pillars holding it up. The long cylinder connected to a square base that was almost completely covered with barnacles. The barnacles were ugly and oversized and an almost translucent purple. They would have to climb over them to reach the top of the base, then it looked like they might be able to enter a door in the pillar.

  “Are you okay?” Ash asked.

  “Surprisingly, yes.” He looked at the still-bleeding cut on her forehead. “You?”

  “Take off your shirt.”

  She must have a concussion.

  “I know our timing hasn’t always been great, Ash, but… really?”

  The ice in her gaze finally melted. “Tear it in two. Wrap it around your hands. The barnacles are carnivorous.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Told you my home world was fun.”

  Hell, maybe the timing was perfect. He found her hand beneath the water, squeezed it.

  “Rip—Rhys—you can’t look at me like that.”

  “Why not?”

  She nodded toward Chace and Mira, who swam for the pillar’s square base. “People will know. It will make you a target.”

  “Because I’m your fail-safe?”

  “Because you’re…”

  The break in her confidence, that little hint of panic she didn’t quite hide, made him smile. She still couldn’t say it, couldn’t admit that she loved him.

  “You want me to keep my distance,” he said, saving her. “You see the irony, don’t you?”

  The hitch in her composure faded when she laughed. “This is for safety, not military decorum. Need help taking off your shirt?”

  “I might.”

  “Rhys.”

  Leaving Javery, capsuling across the Known Universe, surviving an attack and crashing into the ocean… all of it was worth it to see her like this.

  He chuckled as he handed her the ER kit, then he peeled off his sopping-wet shirt and ripped it into strips.

  “I like the scruff, by the way.” Her fingers grazed his when she took two pieces of his shirt he offered her.

  “I thought you liked the smell of my aftershave.”

  A grin stretched across her face. Despite the cut to her temple and her waterlogged hair, it was a beautiful thing, devoid of worry and that siren’s tease she tended to protect herself with.

  He wrapped his hands, took back the ER kit, then swam by Ash’s side toward the pillar. The barnacles weren’t just ugly. They stank like rotting seaweed. He breathed through his mouth, reached up to get a good grip—

  And was rewarded with a slash across his palm. He cursed, rearranged the shirt scrap, and climbed again.

  Another cut, this one on his forearm. He ignored it and kept climbing.

  A barnacle broke off, nearly sending him back into the sea. He was hanging there, trying to find a better path, when he heard it, the sound of a sub-atmo engine.

  The raider.

  Small missiles pounded the ocean, creating a fast-approaching explosion of water.

  Rykus surged upward, threw himself over the top of the pillar’s foundation, and rolled.

  Barnacles cut his arms and back, and missiles burst them apart around him, creating a cloud of shrapnel and noise and chaos before it abruptly stopped. It took an eternity to reorient himself, to see Chace at the pillar’s door, Ash helping Mira up, and the raider circling for another pass.

  Rykus pushed to his feet and stumbled to the door. The barnacles had sealed it shut. He joined Chace, kicking the damn things off.

  Chace gripped the handle. Pulled. It didn’t budge.

  Rykus launched another kick, this one at a barnacle that covered the lower hinge. It snapped free and the door banged open.

  Chace surged inside.

  “Ash!” Rykus yelled.

  She shoved Mira toward the pillar as the world erupted in another roar of thunder and mayhem.

  7

  Rykus dove inside the hollow pillar, flipped to his back, and kicked the door shut.

  Small missiles hammered massive dents into the metal. The cacophony rattled the air inside, vibrating the structure just as hard as it vibrated his head. The noise reached a painful crescendo, then whistled out.

  Rykus rolled to his stomach, then pushed himself up, looking for Ash. She’d fallen on top of Chace in the pillar’s center, and the Gloridian had looped his arm around her waist.

  “You okay?” Rykus asked.

  Ash shifted her gaze from the cratered door to his face.

  “You?” she asked. That wasn’t an answer, so he didn’t give her one either. He unslung the ER kit.

  “Let me look at your side,” he said.

  “Not now. We need to climb.” She nodded toward the rungs embedded in the wall opposite the door.

  “They’ll send scouts?”

  “If we don’t get on vid, yes.” She removed Chace’s arm from her waist, then tried to rise.

  Rykus grabbed her hand, helped her up. “Vid?”

  “Cameras are up top. Scius will let the causeway take us out.”

  “It’s sport,” Chace said, rising to his feet. “Hope your muscles aren’t just for aesthetics. Come on, Mira.” He pulled the woman up. She was white-faced, and her hands shook when she reached for the rungs.

  Rykus looked at Ash and raised his brows. “Sport?”

  Ash nodded. “Every twenty minutes, the tram crosses the ocean. It makes the seventy-kilometer journey in under ten seconds. The only way to avoid splattering out is to duck inside the alcoves at the top of the pillars.”

  Splattering out. That sounded pleasant.

  “Dregs bet on whether someone will make it across and what pillar that person will die at. Scius controls the vid feeds and broadcasts it into his gambling holes. He makes a fortune every time
a dreg tries to jump the causeway.”

  “How far apart are the pillars?” he asked.

  “Just over five kilometers.”

  Five kilometers in twenty minutes. That was an easy jog for him and Ash, probably for Chace and Mira too, but it would get more difficult with each pillar, especially with their bodies battered by the crash.

  Ash walked to the rungs in the wall and looked up.

  Rykus followed her gaze. Two strips of blue light bracketed the ladder. It had to be over four hundred meters to the top, a couple thousand rungs. Mira and Chace were already climbing. The soft ringing of their ascent created a steady rhythm in the hollow cylinder.

  Rykus waited until both were a good distance up before he lowered his voice and said, “You don’t trust them.”

  “Chace? No. Mira… I’m not sure. I did once.”

  “How did that turn out?” He touched her lower back, guiding her toward the ladder.

  A small smile leaked through her weariness. “I ended up on Caruth.”

  He met her gaze and let his thumb slide over her ocean-drenched shirt, just above her waistband. “I should thank her then.”

  She leaned into his touch for the briefest moment, then she reached for a rung just above her head. It wasn’t a smooth motion. It was tentative, like she was conducting a test.

  “How bad is it?” he asked.

  “Our situation?”

  “Your side. Your head. The other injuries I don’t know about.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line.

  “That bad—”

  A scream like a banshee’s wail ricocheted through the pillar. It vanished almost instantly, leaving his ears ringing and a cutting headache behind his eyes.

  “The tram,” Ash said. “It’ll be worse when we reach the top. You can let go.”

  He’d wrapped his arms around her, shielding her body with his. An instinctive move. It took willpower to release her, to let the air chill between them, to let her climb when he should order her to let him take care of her injuries.

  Clenching his jaw, he slipped the ER kit over his shoulders and followed, settling into a mind-numbing rhythm.

  It was that rhythm and the monotony that kept him climbing. It allowed him to shut off his thoughts, to push past his body’s protests, and to ignore the tram’s piercing screams.

  An hour later, he pushed himself through a hatchway and collapsed to the floor beside Ash. Like Chace and Mira, she was on her back, eyes closed. The cut on her temple had stopped bleeding, but the bruising on her face had deepened and the crease on her forehead betrayed how much she hurt.

  He took three deep, steadying breaths and sat up. Ignoring the protests of his shoulders and back, he took off the ER kit and unzipped it.

  “I’m taking a look at your side.”

  Ash lifted her hand with a little fling that said go ahead.

  He pushed her shirt up and held back a curse. He should have taken care of her earlier. She’d cinched a band of material around her waist, but it was doing a piss-poor job at stopping the bleeding.

  “Why aren’t you wearing armor?” He tried to make his voice neutral, but the question came out harsh and angry.

  “I was,” she said, her eyes still shut. “Longcoats are bullet resistant.”

  She wasn’t wearing a longcoat anymore. She must have ditched it on the transport when she did this shitty job of tending to her wound.

  “You need a med-bay.” He reached for the pocket on her right thigh. A booster would help her heal, increase her blood production, and give her a better chance at reaching medical care while she was still conscious.

  Ash’s hand slapped down over his.

  “Just give me a clot cloth,” she said.

  “You need—”

  “I’m fine.”

  She was not fine. He started to slide the slim case out of her pocket.

  “She said she was fine.” Chace pushed into a sitting position.

  Rykus didn’t bother to look the man’s way. “Ash could lose a leg and she would still say she was fine.”

  “Move away from her.”

  He ignored the Gloridian’s words. He was going to be a problem, but now wasn’t the time to work out their differences. Rykus could slam his face into the floor when Ash wasn’t bleeding beside him.

  “Just give me a damn clot cloth, Rhys,” Ash said.

  He gave her a look that warned he wouldn’t put up with this shit for long, then he reached into the ER kit for the cloth.

  “There are two left,” he said, pressing the bandage over the wound. “If you bleed through—”

  “I won’t.” She pulled her bloody shirt down.

  Arguing with an anomaly about their limitations was about as effective as chasing stardust, so he kept his mouth shut and offered his hand. She accepted it and slowly sat up. When color returned to her face, she drew in a breath, then she speared Mira with a glare that could melt the Glaciers of Telette.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded.

  Mira must have felt too vulnerable lying down. She sat up too, scooting back just noticeably.

  “Ash—”

  “Did you think Scius wasn’t alerted the second you entered the spaceport? Everyone is in his pocket, and you know how sick he is. You know what he does to the people who cross him and every single dreg they’re linked to.”

  “Not everyone is—”

  “Enough are!” Ash snapped. “If we hadn’t been there, he would have you and the shipment.”

  “I had to try!” Mira said. “I didn’t think he’d send a raider.”

  “You weren’t thinking at all.”

  “I was thinking about the kids!” Mira yelled, fury flashing across her face. “I know their names and their faces! I know what will happen to them if I am not here.”

  “You can’t be here if you’re dead!”

  Rykus rested his hand on her shoulder.

  “Hey,” he said quietly. “It’s done. Let’s focus on getting to safety. We need to contact Coalition forces. Does your cuff have a signal?”

  His didn’t. He’d checked.

  Ash slowed her breathing, then sat back against the wall.

  “No,” she said without glancing to her wrist. “Scius has dampeners.”

  Damn. He needed communications, not just to call for help but to keep informed on what was happening back home. Things hadn’t been great when he left. The Sariceans had increased their presence in the Javery System, but the triumvirate still hadn’t requested help. They would have to soon, and he wanted an update as soon as the next data dump arrived.

  “What’s the range?” he asked.

  “Range enough to keep us in the dark, kevert,” Chace said.

  Rykus didn’t speak Gloridian, but the sentiment of that last word was clear. Maybe this was the right time to smash his face in.

  “Would you like to step into the causeway?” Rykus asked the question like he would ask an admin for a report, not like it would be his privilege to throw Chace in front of a tram.

  “Ash.” Chace looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised, head slightly tilted in an incredulous expression.

  “I’m right here,” Rykus said. “You don’t need her to fight your battles.”

  Chace’s nostrils flared. “You stink of privilege. You’re an officer, aren’t you? You send other people to their deaths while you sit back in your spit-shined boots and swipe at your high-credit cuff.”

  The insult stung, but he let it slide past him and waited for the Gloridian to make his move.

  “That’s enough,” Ash said. “We will rest, and then we’ll jump the causeway back to Brightwater.”

  Chace shifted his gaze from him to Ash. “We need to go to Bedlam.”

  Something passed between the two. Rykus wasn’t sure what it was. A dare from Chace? A warning from Ash? They had a history together, one he wasn’t part of.

  “Brightwater is closer,” Ash said.

  “Our chance of survival is
better in Bedlam.”

  “Bedlam doesn’t have a spaceport. The capsule will leave soon. Mira and Rhys need to be on it. And Hauch is in Brightwater.”

  “Hauch found you?” He’d been the one to report Ash as missing. Rykus hadn’t been aware the soldier had picked up her trail again.

  Ash broke eye contact with Chace.

  “It’s more like I found him, but yes. We were separated at the spaceport.”

  “Then he’ll come after us,” he said.

  “Scius won’t let anyone near here,” she said. “If Hauch is smart, he’ll lie low for a few days.”

  “And if we’re smart,” Chace said. “We’ll go to Bedlam. We can go to Requiem House and ask for sanctuary.”

  Ash laughed. “Bian won’t let me set foot inside the door.”

  “He’ll let her in.” Chace nodded toward Mira. “Bian likes you. You can talk to him.”

  Mira’s mouth tightened into a dubious smile. “I’m not sure even I could convince the Seekers to open the door to Ash.”

  What a surprise. Ash had made an enemy of a Seeker, one of the Devout it sounded like. That took effort. The Devout were notoriously patient, especially those sent across the KU as missionaries. While they searched for evidence that God walked on their assigned planet, they provided humanitarian aid and services, usually while they endured ridicule and hostility from populations who didn’t share their religion.

  “Is there anyone you haven’t managed to piss off?” Rykus asked.

  “No,” she and Chace said in unison. They both looked like they were suppressing grins.

  A tight feeling settled into Rykus’s chest. Not jealousy, exactly, but a subtle envy that highlighted a need he hadn’t realized he’d had. Chace had more history with Ash than he did, more shared moments, more camaraderie even. Rykus had two years on Caruth where he’d done everything in his power to make her tap out of the anomaly program. Three years later, when he saw her again, he’d tried to break her down and—

  The tram screamed through the causeway. There was no warning, no actual sight of the vehicle, just a breath-wrenching pressure that left his lungs burning for air and his head pulsing with agony.

  When the pain subsided enough for him to focus, he asked, “What chance do we have to make it to the spaceport?”