Embers in the Sea

by Jennifer M. Eaton

  The dark sea outside the glass brightened to a dull gray before fading into a semblance of blue. Lines of sunlight cascaded through the water, celebrating our return to the real world. Our ship breached the surface and soared into the bright, blue sky. I inhaled, as if breathing for the first time in ages. Air and sky hugged the ship as the sea sprawled out below us, shimmering in the late afternoon sun.

  We’d made it.

  We’d actually made it!

  David tapped the panel above. “The pressure is holding for our guests. We’re good, at least for now.”

  “So now we get my dad.”

  “Yes. As soon as we … ” He leaned over the panel and squinted. “What is that?”

  I turned to him. “That’s not even funny. We’re out of the freaking ocean. What could possibly be wrong?” I ducked as a familiar rectangular shadow passed over us, not unlike the ones who flew past our house on McGuire Air Force Base. Another aircraft followed, nearly clipping our roof. “Did they just dive-bomb us?”

  “No. I think they were heading for that.” He pointed out the window, where the two jets rained ammunition onto a gray liquescent pearl the size of an apartment complex hovering over white capped waves.

  Holy crap! We’d come out of the sea and flown right into an aerial battle!

  Thomp.

  I covered my ears and closed my eyes. That sound remained etched into my memory—the discharge of alien weapons that had taken out the small airport that David and I had run to the first summer we’d met. The ground had cracked beneath my feet. Balls of fire flew through the night sky, catching the trees alight. And the soldiers … so many dead.

  We’d gone through too much to let this happen again.

  I opened my eyes in time to see the plane on the left hit the waves. The one on the right burst into flames.

  No! The pilots!

  The flames from the second aircraft extinguished in a puff of smoke as the craft splashed into the sea.

  “Tell them to stop!” I shouted. “Tell them they don’t need Earth. We can make it rain!”

  Erescopian letters scrawled across the screen. David settled over the console, the intensity returning to his gaze.

  Thomp. David held on as our ship rumbled.

  The liquescent opal pulsed as it rose and angled in our direction. “Are they shooting at us now?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Why? Aren’t those your people?”

  “Yes, but it looks like they’re still a little angry about me stealing their experimental hot-rod as you called it.” He tapped the panel at his side. “We are still faster than anything they have. We can outrun them.”

  The pearly orb disappeared from view, and land appeared over the horizon.

  “Is that home?”

  David shook his head. “That’s the west coast of your continent. We’ll be over the east coast in a few minutes. If you are going to make phone calls, do it now.”

  Sweat drenched my brow. I leapt toward the yellow panel in the wall and shoved my hand inside. I gripped Old Reliable’s familiar surface and shoved him back into my backpack at the base of the wall. Fumbling inside the wall again, I found the warm, square case and plucked my phone out.

  Please, Lord, let this work.

  I hit the power button and the little apple lit up the screen. Score!

  The icon continued to flash.

  Dad—he never answered the phone at work. Especially during an emergency. What if he didn’t answer now? What if he couldn’t get somewhere where David and I could pick him up? What if he wouldn’t agree to come? I had precious seconds to convince him, and that stinking apple was still blinking!

  Maggie. Matt. What if they were still in New York? No. Not possible. Matt would have driven Maggs home. Right? They’d both be in New Jersey. They had to be. With their families. Bags packed. Ready to go in case Jess shows up to save their lives. Yeah. Right.

  Why wasn’t that freaking phone booting up?

  My home screen appeared and I tapped to my favorites and chose Dad. The ring hummed against my ear, the tone vibrating forever. Come on, Dad.

  A roar punctured the ship as something huge flew over us.

  I dropped the phone, slamming my hands over my ears. The ship rattled, shaking my mobile across the floor as David sunk his arms deeper into the controls. His face contorted to a grimace before the rattling ceased.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “I have no idea, but it almost hit us and the temperature readings are off the charts. I’ve never seen anything give off that much heat.” He stretched toward the back of the control panel. “Whatever it is, it slowed down and it’s hovering about twelve miles to the east of here.”

  “Should we be worried?”

  He huffed. “I already have too much to worry about.”

  The small blip on the screen flashed twice. If it was hovering, it had to be a ship. My gut twisted and an odd sense of foreboding coated me, like a warning from deep within. Like me, screaming at the top of my lungs that I needed to do something.

  I did need to do something. Save my father. Save the world. Nothing new. Just another day with David. But something about that ship haunted me, like my tether had been cut in two: one strand tugging me toward David, and the other drawing me toward that ship. I rubbed my eyes. Dammit, if I didn’t get some sleep I was going to lose my mind.

  We continued our ascent and I shook my head to clear the echoes of the other ship. Breathing deeply, I snatched my phone from the floor. My call had ended, so I redialed Dad. Two rings and that familiar, barely noticeable click sound before the call connected, telling me the army would be listening in on the call. Didn’t matter, as long as I got through to my father.

  “Jess, thank God. Where are you?”

  The sound of his voice warmed me like a hug. “Dad, I need you to listen to me.”

  “No time. Where are you?”

  Desert sand whisked past at indiscernible speeds. “I’m not sure. Nevada. Maybe Utah, but we’re coming to get you. I need you to … ”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am. Dad, you … ”

  “Two Marines just got shot down over the Western Pacific. Please tell me you two weren’t involved.”

  “No, of course not! There was another Erescopian ship there. It’s like everyone is using us for target practice.”

  “Did David find what he needs to stop the attack?”

  I paused. “How did you know about that?”

  Grumbles reverberated in the background. “Answer the question.”

  I wondered if I should tell him it was more of a them rather than an it. Probably not. “Yeah, we got it. We’re going to take it to Mars as soon as we get you safe.”

  “There is nowhere safe anymore. Put David on the line.”

  I gritted my teeth, hit speaker, and set the phone just beside the glowing console.

  Why couldn’t Dad just listen to me? All he had to do was come with us. Was that too much to ask? I slipped my hand around David’s biceps and rested my head on his shoulder. If anything happened to my father …

  “David?” Dad’s voice boomed.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There’s only one thing in this world that I care about, and I bet she’s leaning against your shoulder right now.”

  I stepped back, releasing David. Was I that predicable?

  “That little girl means everything to me.”

  David smiled at me. “I’m aware of that, sir.”

  A pause hung on the line. The desert below faded into green plains.

  “I suppose you are also aware that there is a spaceship the size of China hovering about two thousand miles above Canada.”

  David closed his eyes. “You need to keep away from that ship.”

  “We’ve already engaged.”

  “No! You can’t.” He slammed his fist on the console, shaking the phone. “It’s a trap. Your d
efenses will be slaughtered.”

  “You’ve been around humanity enough to know we won’t go down without a fight. That thing isn’t getting any nearer to Earth.”

  “That’s not its purpose. It’s there to draw you out. You don’t understand.”

  “Your cargo is all I’m worried about. Jess, and whatever else you’re carrying. McGuire is a military target. I don’t want my daughter anywhere near here.”

  “But, Dad—”

  “Enough. David, you need to get to Mars. Now.”

  Like hell. I leaned toward the phone. “We’re coming to get you. End of discussion.”

  “You’re wasting time. I’m not leaving. I’m needed here. David, she’s going to hate you for it, but I need you to have the strength do the right thing.”

  The muscles in David’s neck tensed. He pressed his lips together.

  “No.” Tears pooled in my lashes. “Don’t you dare,” I whispered. “Don’t you dare.”

  David gulped and moved his gaze back to the console.

  It was selfish of me to be so worried about my father, but fine, call me selfish. He was all I had left. I needed my father. I wasn’t ready to be alone.

  I could imagine Dad pacing on the other side of the phone, rubbing his hand across his tightly cropped hair. Did he know what he was doing to me? Probably. But Dad only focused on the big picture. Nothing more. Soldiers sacrificed. That was just the way it was. For once in his life couldn’t he just say to hell with doing the right thing?

  “Our entire race is counting on you, David,” Dad continued, “and I have to say that I’ve never met anyone with such integrity—to have the cajones to go against your entire race and do what’s right—twice—that takes a special sort of a man.”

  David’s lips tightened. His hands twitched.

  “I know we got off to a rough start. God knows I never wanted you anywhere near my daughter, but you’ve proven yourself, and you continue to prove yourself.”

  David stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.

  Dad continued, “No matter what happens today, I want you to know that I would be proud to call you my son.”

  David coughed and covered his mouth with his hand as tears streamed down his cheeks. The flood of joy and dismay shattered across our tether, nearly knocking the wind out of me. David had crash-landed on Earth a little over two years ago in a botched attempt to get into his father’s good graces. By the time he’d left Earth, it seemed everything was fine between him and his dad. Then only three months later he’d saved Mars from a conspiracy to kill the planet. David was a hero, yet the essence of failure slithered across our bond, as if all his successes never happened.

  His own father hated him. I could feel it. To hear such praise from my father, a human, a man he should consider his enemy, gashed a cavern through his psyche. David had been broken before, but this—this was the worst I’d ever seen.

  The energy flowing between us subsided as David straightened. His features hardened. The emotions changed to a cacophony of warm feelings. Security. Admiration. Love?

  His gaze centered on the phone.

  My father. He was focusing his thoughts on my father, not his own. Had David finally given up on the man up there in space that he’d never be able to please?

  David glanced at me, and the pleasant emotions faded. A deep burning wiped away the joy skidding across our bond.

  Regret. Deep, undeniable regret.

  A ball formed in my throat as the ship slowed. “No!” I pushed him. “Don’t you stop this ship. Don’t you do it! We need to save my father!”

  “Pequeña.” The sweet, gentle sound of my father’s voice bit into me. No longer the soldier, just my dad. “There are a few things I need to tell you.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare.” I wiped my eyes. “We’re coming to get you.”

  The ship started to ascend.

  “What are you doing? We need to get my dad!” I punched David’s shoulder. He didn’t budge an inch. “Fly back down. We need to go get him.”

  “Pequeña, stop.”

  I slipped into my chair, holding my temples.

  “You are so much like your mother—the eternal rebel pitted against my dutiful soldier. She would have been incredibly proud of you, you know that?”

  I rocked back and forth, pressing my temples. A military target. When those alien ships broke our atmosphere, they knew exactly what they had to destroy. Whose lives they had to erase.

  “I may not always show it, but I am incredibly proud of you. And your photography is going to be the stuff of legends. I don’t want you ever to give up your dreams.”

  His voice broke. I imagined tears in his eyes, but he’d wipe them away. A soldier was always composed. Confident. He’d want me to be more like him, but I wasn’t. I wouldn’t ever be.

  Static hissed across the phone connection. “I love you, Pequeña. I always will.” The hole in my heart cut deeper. “This isn’t goodbye. One thing I’ve learned from you is this: anything is possible. Absolutely anything.”

  A bank of clouds shrouded the window, darkening the tiles on the floor. A crackle sizzled from my phone.

  I jerked up. “Daddy?” The phone clicked twice. “Dad!”

  Tears drizzled down my cheeks. I jumped to my feet and snatched the phone, tapping every icon on the screen.

  “We’re out of range.” David grasped my shoulders, settling me back in my seat.

  “What do you mean we’re out of range? We can’t possibly be—”

  He stepped aside, revealing a window filled with beautiful, twinkling stars.

  I wiped my eyes. “You have to go back down. You have to!”

  He sunk his hands into the console. “You know we don’t have time for that.”

  Time. There was always supposed to be time. I was only twenty. My entire life was ahead of me—time to hang with my dad as an adult. As a friend.

  The screen blanked out in my trembling hand. “But I didn’t get to tell him I love him.”

  David turned from the panel; his lashes glistened with unshed tears. “Major Martinez is a smart man. He knows you love him.”

  I nodded, but I wasn’t so sure. When was the last time I told him how important he was to me?

  Tapping the photos icon, I clicked on my favorites and stared at the only picture in the folder. Mom and Dad’s smiling faces pressed together on the screen, cardboard crowns rested on their heads. A ran my fingers over Mom’s face, and then Dad’s. Leaving the photo on the screen, I set the phone into my backpack and closed the zipper.

  “I’ll save him, Mom,” I whispered. “I promise.” The stars shifted to the right as we leveled off.

  How could this be happening? We had the stinking source in our cargo hold. We had a dozen stinking sources. Why were we even worried about anything? That was all we needed. Just get these giant, smart, talking jellyfish to Mars and boom! Everything would be okay. Right?

  Bright flashes blanked out the stars. A sprawling, black mass hung in space, dwarfing tiny flies that skidded across its surface.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “The ship,” David said. “The one I told your father not to engage.”

  26

  A fiery cloud lifted off the exterior of the alien craft, but quickly fizzled to darkness.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “An explosion. Apparently your people managed to get a missile through.”

  A smile crossed my face. Way to go, guys.

  Another explosion rattled across the liquescent vessel, and another. Within seconds the entire hull blazed.

  “Yes!” I shouted.

  “Idiots. All of them,” David whispered.

  “Why, because your superior technology maybe isn’t all that superior?” I pointed out the window. “It seems to me a little human ingenuity is giving them a run for their money.”

  David’s irises darkened
. “Look at them, Jess. Look with your eyes and not your heart.”

  The glass flickered, and the scene zoomed in. Five space shuttles flew alongside several square, silver boxes with windows, while a few dozen more asymmetrical crafts made of multi-colored metals hung well behind the others. Computer-generated red dots appeared on two of the crafts at the rear, and one of the space shuttles nearing the Erescopian behemoth.

  “Those red markers show which of those ships are still armed.”

  Three. Only three.

  But streams of gas trickled from the alien ship, and the human fleet still seemed intact, as if the Erescopians weren’t even fighting back. Maybe the battle was already over. Maybe we’d already won.

  “Typical primitive thinking,” David said. “It will get them all dead.”

  He pointed our ship toward the moon. Out David’s window, the space shuttle fired off two long, sleek cylinders. They flew silently through space, exploding on impact. Fire billowed out of the alien craft and winked out, but a section of the ship the size of Texas broke off and floated away.

  “They’re winning!”

  “It’s a diversion,” David said as we crested over the moon. “Simple standard attack strategy. Intimidate your enemy, and let them expend their resources until their defenses are no longer a threat. This is what I tried to warn your father about.”

  “I don’t understand. That ship is falling apart.”

  Deep hurt radiated within his sluggish carriage. “Never let your enemy know your true numbers.”

  We banked over the edge of the moon. Along the horizon, space seemed to hollow out—deep, dark voids overtook all, as if someone had stolen the stars.

  A shiver ran through me. Not voids: ships. Black opal liquescent ships hiding behind the moon, out of line-of-sight, where our sensors couldn’t detect them. So many they began to blur together. Hundreds. Thousands. A throng.

  This was the real threat. This was the terror that was about to scourge the Earth.

  Sweet Lord, please help us.

  We dove directly into the middle of the mass of alien vessels.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for my father’s ship.”

  “Are you insane? Aren’t they still ticked about you stealing the hot-rod?”