Balance (The Neumarian Chronicles)

by Ciara Knight

  “Flying blind,” shouted the same voice.

  Scowling, my father returned to the captain’s chair and hit the com button. “Raeth to the bridge.” He glanced at the helmsman. “Maintain distance.”

  The com crackled. “Sir, she’s unable to walk at the moment,” Penton said.

  “I don’t care if you have to carry her, just get her here now.” He released the button and glanced at me. “Is she as strong as they say?”

  I nodded. “I’ve never seen or known anyone stronger.”

  The lift doors opened and Penton carried Raeth onto the bridge. To my horror, her battered metal leg was gone.

  Several people gasped. Even my father appeared momentarily surprised. “You weren’t kidding, son.” He pointed to the pilot’s chair as the cadet who’d been manning it scrambled out of the way. “Place her at her station.”

  “W-what’s going on?” Raeth asked as Penton lowered her to the chair.

  “The mist’s blocking our view and someone’s jamming our sensors. We need you to clear the mist so we can see where we’re flying and who’s hiding.”

  “She can’t do that,” Penton lifted Raeth from the chair and pressed her to his chest. “The mist’s the same basic property as what zombified all those people. If she tries to alter the synthetic properties, it’ll not only handicap her powers and drain her for a while, but it almost killed her last time. I won’t let you use her like that.”

  My father’s jaw clenched then eased. “Relax, son. We won’t. There must be another way.” He scanned the bridge. His disturbingly incisive gaze paused on me, then shot back to Raeth.

  “Lieutenant Scott, you’re relieved. Corporal Bellator, take your station.”

  Lieutenant Scott rose, her chin jutting out as she eyed him.

  I leaned close and murmured, “I wouldn’t do that. The general doesn’t accept challenges to his orders. Once we clear the mist, I’ll return the station to you.”

  She nodded and moved to stand behind me.

  I knew this wasn’t a good idea. Looking for mines was no big deal. They were metal, and even the vast ocean couldn’t shield them from me. But this was different. We weren’t beneath the sea. We were in the air and could smash into a cliff or crash if we were flying too low. We could get hit by snipers or artillery. I licked my lips. It didn’t help. My mouth was too dry. “I’ll take it slow.”

  “No. If we can’t see them, they can’t see us. We hit hard and fast, before they have a chance to pinpoint and take us down.” He leaned forward, his fists resting on the chair’s arms. “Excluding buildings, the terrain’s flat near the river.”

  “Some of the wreckage is stone and juts into the air.”

  You can do it, Semara. “Tap into your power. Anything metal, alert Corporal Arteres. She’ll alter course.” He leveled a hard look at Penton. “Can Corporal Bellator safely penetrate the mist without being affected?”

  Penton settled Raeth back onto her seat, crossed his arms, and tapped his index finger to his lips. “Yes, as long as she doesn’t attempt to change or connect with it, she’ll be fine.”

  Sinking into my chair, fear curled around my spine. My bravado oozed from my body. “Sir, I’m not familiar with the terrain. I can only avoid metal, not stone.”

  “It’s our only shot. If you can’t do this, we’ll have to return to safe territory and see if our contacts can reach them.”

  “Ryder won’t survive that long.”

  “I know,” he mumbled. “I’m no longer able to hear him.”

  My nails gripped the rubber seal around the optical. “What does that mean?”

  “He’s either passed out or—” His lips thinned to a knife blade and acid inched up my throat.

  Chapter Two

  Inhaling, I scanned all the faces on the bridge, their mouths tight with concern. I’d be risking all their lives to rescue Ryder. Was that fair? Images of my rebel family flooded into my mind, overwhelming the programmed memories of my youth. Ryder healing me. Bendar and Fallon bringing me a birthday cake. The device implanted in my brain right after Mandesa destroyed the Mining Territory. The sand surfers, sermechtapedes and spiderats, which we barely escaped utilizing my gift in its infancy to find the metal scout ship.

  It had been the first time I’d sensed metal. That initial tickle and strange burn in my brain and on my skin. In that instant, fear fled. Running my fingertips across the metal console, a zap of current connected me to the machine. It was as if we were one.

  “I know what to do,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “Perhaps, I can also detect things close to the metal.”

  The lift doors swished open, but I didn’t turn.

  “Meaning?” my father asked.

  “If I can sense the outer edges of the ship, I simply avoid contact with anything. If something draws close, I can sense it. In theory anyway.”

  “It’s true. You’ve come a long way, Semara. Your mother would be so proud,” Fallon said, his soft, deep voice carrying from the lift area.

  I heard the click of the com button, then his calm, steady voice, “Raeth and Semara will navigate SB-06 through the blue mist. We’ll come out the other side in a frenzy worse than invading a sermectapede nest. Fire upon acquiring a target. It’s time to drive the emperor back to Asia and send Mandesa a message. Get out and stay out of our territory.” He cut the com link. “Corporals Bellator and Arteres, when you’re ready.”

  I swallowed and pressed one hand to the console, and the other to the bulkhead by my side. My palms glowed. Thankfully, no molten metal flowed from the surface to the floor. The walls shook. We rose an infinitesimal amount. Engines roared inside my head. The ship’s metallic flavor coated my tongue. A taste I’d become accustomed to and almost enjoyed. I closed my eyes, yet saw through the viewfinder. I touched the exterior skin of the ship. My breath merged with the life support system. I zapped along wires and twisted through the gears and churning parts of the engine.

  The wing panels shifted. Wind blasted pressure into my joints.

  Nodding to Raeth, without breaking my concentration, the ship surged into the bluish hell below. I focused on the exterior of the ship. Damp air caressed me as I ignored the vibration from the roar of the engines.

  “That’s my girl,” Father murmured. His voice almost shattered my connection. Only my fierce purpose prevented anything from severing my bond with the ship. Instead, I remained embedded in every molecule. An object slithered close and almost raked my wing, as if a feather tickled sensitive hair on my arm. “Ascend fifteen degrees.”

  The ship corrected. My toenails warmed as the exhaust heat increased. A quiver shot through my spine. “Up, now!”

  The ship banked left and shot high into the sky.

  Something hard and sharp slashed my belly.

  “Haul breach, sector seven,” a voice boomed over the com.

  “Seal off cargo hold four and five,” a girl commanded.

  With clear view through the wormhole of clouds as we broke through “Dive.” Mist caressed yet burned my sides. “Engage.”

  “Return command of the ship, Corporal Bellator.”

  I disengaged our merge and licked excess metallic residue from my lips, the flavor more robust than bitter. My eyes fluttered open, revealing a world of destruction. The tower clock lay in a pile of stone. Ships whizzed pass in all directions.

  “Fire at will,” Father ordered.

  Fallon clutched my shoulder. “You did well.”

  I patted his hand then snagged the viewfinder. Flicking the switch to separate the full view screen from my station, I connected the viewfinder to the cameras at the front of the ship. With a few clicks, the magnifier enlarged the area by the channel. Smoke, debris, and tendrils of blue mist clawing at the shoreline, blocking a clear view. But filled with hope I rotated the knob further.

  I glanced up from my viewfinder and looked at my father. Do you hear him?

  Except for shaking his head, he sat immobile and refused to look at me.
As I stared at him, I wondered how long it had taken him to learn to blank his expression, a trait he’d become so known for as the infamous General Ballator.

  “Sir, Captain Moroana requests assistance,” the com officer said.

  I stared at the screen and saw Mart’s ship under heavy fire. My heart sank. The emperor had concentrated the majority of his fleet on the Freedom and it was going down. It had been tough living underwater for months, but it was also the first time I shared a room, and with my best friend Raeth no less.

  I saw Raeth rocking in her seat, though not humming. Unlike seven months ago, she seldom retreated into that other world of hers.

  Father bent forward. “Direct all fire power on the emperor’s main torpedo bay.”

  Ignoring the frantic action on the bridge, I redirected my attention to the weeds along the channel. Anxiety that I couldn’t spot anything from this altitude turned to dread. I rubbed my hands down my pants, then pulled on my fingerless gloves. “Sir, shouldn’t the council be assisting our wounded on the ground by now?”

  He nodded to the com officer and the message was relayed. I returned to the viewfinder, searching for any sign of movement.

  Nothing.

  I glanced back at the front screen in enough time to see two fighter planes on a collision course for our bridge.

  Orders were shouted.

  SB-06 dove.

  Sending out my gift, I pinpointed the fighters’ engines and melted the brackets connecting the fans. Once loose, blades slashed into the fuel tanks, and the planes exploded.

  The SB-06 shook.

  Father bolted out of his chair. “Report,” he barked, pacing between Raeth’s station and the front screen. “We’ll not lose the SB-06.” He reached the helmsmen. “Avoid the Kamikaze pilots. Aim for the emperor’s ship. Rain hell down on him.”

  Crew scrambled around. Sirens blared. Red lights flashed. As we neared the emperor’s vessel, it continued to pound the Freedom.

  “We’re smaller than the emperor’s vessel. Bring us alongside it, just above its wings. We’ll piggyback his ship and turn our side cannons on him.”

  As we moved closer, we watched in horrified silence as the Freedom wavered in the sky attempting to flee the battle.

  “Freedom reports extensive damage. She’s going down,” the com officer reported.

  “Mart. I’m here to save you, luv,” Captain Paulson’s voice said over the speaker.

  “I’d rather fry me ship than take ye assist, but as long as ye’re here…”

  Father grabbed a headset with mic and nodded to the com officer. “Put me on the open general channel.” A second later, he issued orders to the fleet. “Captain, Moroana, you will accept help. Focus your fire on fighters near you. Captain Paulson, protect the Freedom. Concentrate your fire on the emperor’s tail and fuel tanks. We’re riding his left wing. Don’t shoot us down.”

  I shifted in my seat and, half listening, scanned the ground, magnifying the viewfinder. I spun the dial out and back, searching every sector between the tower and the end of the channel again.

  There.

  My heart soared. Beside a large debris pile at the corner of the tower, the busted clock hung from a fraying cable about ten meters off the ground. Wearing gas masks, four people raced from the pile into the reeds. My nails dug into the rubber cover of the viewfinder’s lever, and I willed the rescuers to find my love. Please help him. He’s helpless, bleeding, and collared like an animal somewhere below.

  Stop screaming in my head, Father hissed.

  Sorry, I can’t help it.

  Semara, this is greater than one person, even one we love.

  No, it isn’t. Ryder’s a third of the Triune. And if you want to win this war, you’ll need him. I heard my father’s growl in my mind and aloud, causing nervous looks from the cadets around me.

  Before he could say anything, I screamed, I see something. Focusing the viewfinder on something winking among the reeds, I magnified it twenty times and discovered a light flashing.

  I shot from my chair. “Sir, a signal.”

  “Split screen.”

  I did as ordered and merged my view with the front screen.

  The bridge fell silent even as the explosions continued to pound various parts of the ship. A flurry of action filled the left side of the screen. On the right, reeds waved from the wind generated by planes flying close to the ground.

  I swear I saw a light blinking in a code. Are you sure you can’t connect with them?

  I think it has less to do with their condition and more to do with the mist.

  Refusing to tear my attention from the viewfinder I continued to search until I spotted a light blinking several more times. “There they are.”

  “Send an encrypted message to the council. Give them the coordinates,” Father said.

  Raeth turned from her console to the com officer. “I’ve s-sent them to your h-halo pad.”

  I bit back a scream when the four rescuers took off in the wrong direction. The com officer and chief encryption officer set to work while, I gnawed my fingernails and watched, unable to help.

  “Incoming!” The words had barely come over the com line when a Kamikaze plane plowed into the side of our ship.

  Sparks flew.

  Screams echoed.

  The SB-06 shifted.

  Bodies flew across the bridge. Penton held tight to Raeth keeping her in her station. Fallon and I clung to mine. Father was ejected from the captain’s chair and slammed into Lieutenant Scott.

  Ignoring the crushing impact, Raeth’s fingers flew over her controls.

  “Blue mist!” I yelled, pointing to where it seeped in through a fissure at the back of the bridge. If it wasn’t sealed immediately, the ship would be our coffin. The crewman charged with damage control was laying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding from his ear. Given the extent of the ship’s damage and the continued assault of suicide pilots, evacuation of the bridge and staying alive was problematic. If the mist didn’t get us here, it would on the ground.

  I loosened my grasp of the viewfinder lever and slid across the floor to the center controller station, my arm slamming into the post securing the station to the floor. With a moan, I shifted my weight to my hip and clawed the floor until I reached the edge of the navigation station.

  The ship pitched then another explosion jolted us, sending the craft into a spiral. I checked the fracture along the back wall and choked at the sight. The narrow, half-meter crack had now spread to three meters. The mist no longer seeped in, it flooded in.

  Holding my breath, I lunged for the far wall and hooked my arm around the handrail then concentrated on mending the bulkhead without melting the entire ship. I’d gained a lot of control, but with my emotions running so high, I was worried. Swallowing hard, I settled myself. Connecting with the metal, I heated it and pushed energy into the gnarled pieces of steel and bronze. Like a blowtorch, I fused the metals together, sealing the gap.

  Father righted himself and crawled back into his chair. A large gash covered his right temple. “Report,” he yelled.

  Gradually, those who were conscious inched and slid to their stations.

  “Reports of blue mist throughout the engine room and crew quarters. All corridors are sealed. Multiple casualties reported, sir.”

  “Send medics to the bridge,” Father ordered.

  I managed to get to my feet.

  You saved us. Both you and Raeth.

  The pride in his voice warmed my heart. His affection no longer felt forced and stilted. We had come a long way in such a short time.

  I winked. I think that gash rattled your brain, sir.

  I shuffled back to my station. Fallon lifted Lieutenant Scott and her head rolled into an awkward position, neck broken. I fought to keep my emotions in check. At least it was quick. Fallon brushed past, his battle expression shielding his real feelings.

  Several others assisted the wounded and moved the dead.

  I stared at the screen
. More fighters were heading our way. How can we win when these fighters willingly die to stop us?

  My father swiped blood from his brow. Once it was an ancient and honorable practice. Now, if they don’t die in battle as ordered, their families are tortured then publicly executed.

  That’s barbaric.

  Yes, but effective.

  I forced my gaze away from the death surrounding us and pressed my face to the viewfinder, but only saw blackness. “Telescopic capabilities are out.”

  “Our main torpedo bay is inoperable,” a voice said over the com.

  “Sick bay’s beyond capacity. Send wounded to the mess hall,” another voice said over the speaker.

  The lift doors opened. Two people—covered in blood, sweat and dirt—dragged a body each onto the lift, blocked it open and hauled in two more.

  The com officer tapped his ear. “Sir, Lieutenant Briggs and Corporal Ryder Arteres have been recovered.”

  Raeth beamed a smile my way, but our joy was short-lived. One glance at the monitor showed me the situation below hadn’t improved.

  If we didn’t do something fast, the emperor would take us down, all of us. The Freedom, Captain Paulson’s ship, and all of the remaining buildings in the city. And Ryder’s rescue would be for nothing.

  Chapter Three

  Through the smoky haze, I saw the Freedom crash land into the channel below. With a skip, it settled into the waves, with Captain Paulson’s ship providing coverage, shooting down and ramming small fighters on a collision course with the downed Freedom.

  “We won’t survive much longer,” I muttered.

  “C-can’t use powers with mist,” Raeth warned, seeming to know I’d tried twice to melt the emperor’s ship.

  She was right, the remaining blue mist stood as an impenetrable shield.

  Penton walked past me, the now, infamous look of a major idea churning in that exceptional mind of his spread across his face. His thin torso, and gangly limbs had no doubt protected him from the queen’s draft. Thankfully, as she’d trolled through the environs of poor humans in search for troops and those to join her maniacal scientists, his appearance had masked his brilliance and he was overlooked. Had his deep and hidden belief in the Triune saved him…and us? Without him, we would have died several times over in the last seven months.