by E L Strife
Visualizing the container around them, she listened for the high-pitched whine of a hydro-pump on standby. Finding one close, she gave the lever a nudge in her mind, producing a squeak. It would take a lot of force to push it from where she stood, which meant dropping her shield or using it. She wasn’t sure if Bennett’s physical fire was out too or just the one in his Ether.
Atana tried to drift back to check on his physical body. The thread of a high wire she was telepathically walking was too feeble and green, her skills rusty from years without use. She felt herself waking too early and thrust her thoughts back into the hall. Get the hydro-pump on! It’s more important!
Rapid footfalls and a voice thundered in the corridor. “I got it!” A fuzzy image of a shadowed face beneath jet-black hair appeared as he tugged the lever down with a harsh screech of metal.
Sergeant Cutter?
He whipped around, scanning the humming room, his shotgun steadied in his hands. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
Atana sputtered at Cutter’s glinting, silver eyes, unusually sharp in the haze. He—heard me?
The cool droplets peppering her skin reminded her to focus. She sank back into Bennett’s Ether.
Rain fell between charred rafters, knocking out the last glimmers of the house fire. Atana helped Bennett to his feet. Steam billowed from his skin and lips as the water worked its natural magic.
They walked through soggy piles of ash and out onto a grassy knoll. Golden beams painted their sides from the cresting sun on a distant ocean horizon.
Defiant coils, like backburners, remained in his eyes. A corner of her mouth quirked up in a faint smile. “Wonder if those will ever fade.”
“Still glowing, huh?” His burly shoulders pulled back then slumped at his sigh. “Are people going to—fear me?”
Atana took his face in hand. “Maybe it’s an Ether thing. Either way, we’ll deal with it together.” She pointed to her own, the subtle blue filter over her vision an indicator of what others saw.
“I was adrift in a sea of memories. I wanted to let go.” A bashful laugh slipped out as he drew her into a hug, his warm fingers sliding up her bare back to brace her neck. “Something kept me here.”
Her arms wrapped around his waist. Such a gesture was far too precious a gift for her to care about their exposure to one another—skin to skin. Bennett had tattoos like Xahu’ré had stripes. “You mustn’t give up your life so easily.”
The tip of his nose graced her cheek. “Rather hypocritical. I thought we’d lost you.”
Atana stifled a gasp, his hot breath flushing her neck and shoulder.
“I’m sorry for placing this burden on you when I lost my composure last night. It won’t happen again.” He whispered into her hair. “I need you to promise me one more thing.”
She swallowed hard, forcing the writhing energy within to calm. “What’s that?”
“No more suicide missions. I can’t accept it.”
Not wanting to start another fire, she leaned back from Bennett’s hold to the most sincere look of devoted rejection on his face. “Azure helped me. I helped you. It’s a team effort.”
His hands slid down her arms, and he retracted a step. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Azure took Atana’s elbow, drawing her body away from Bennett and against him. “Agutra is honored a future prospector has fought at our side.”
Atana peered up at him, relieved he’d followed her into Ether to search for Bennett and startled at his jarring tone. His face pinched in anger as he stared Bennett down. Bennett’s fingers curled up, his toes digging into the dirt. Standing between the lead guards of Earth and Agutra was deadly.
It’s exactly where she needed to be.
Shifting into their path, she extended her free hand to Bennett. “We do not have to like or understand each other. But we are fighting the same battles, ones much larger than the three of us.” Atana looked back at Azure, silently begging. She knew it was the only way.
Small tremors danced in Azure’s muscles on his stone-still frame. After a sigh, he grumbled something about respecting boundaries, and his body calmed.
“For our people?” Atana asked them.
Bennett chewed a lip then offered his hand to Azure. “For our people.”
Azure’s nose crinkled with one last annoyed inspection of Bennett. He gave a hesitant nod. “Dakan ria’ii kiatna.”
Chapter 6
CLOUDS OF STEAM and smoke blurred the artificial sunlight. When the container’s fires were out, the shower stopped, leaving a residual mist hanging heavy in the air. The scent of hot pitch traded for the warm, succulent Jesiar blossoms as the breeze picked up the pollen from the far, undamaged end of the container.
Bennett released their hands, inspecting himself for fear his burns were beyond repair. Embarrassment rushed to the surface of his healed body, darkening his natural tan to amber. He turned his back to the others, searching for anything he could grab to conceal himself. There wasn’t a single solid object within view except them. Shit.
A sun devil of zircon light manifested in ribbons concealing his birthday suit from the curious eyes of approaching workers. He stumbled back in the sludgy earth. “What the hell?”
“Think you can control it?” Azure asked, tilting his head in warning.
Bennett grimaced, unsure of where to begin. Just make myself a golden tornado, sure. Bands flickered and dissipated. Catching the amusement scrolled across Atana’s face, he covered the critical parts with his hands. “What?”
She hid her lips inside her mouth, eyes smiling in the corners.
One worker broke through the rest, a bundle of brown, burlap cloth in his arms. “Dakan ahna.”
“They are for us.” Azure took a shirt, shamelessly dropping his shield. “Eih ahna, Ceema.”
At the sight of the nearing crowd, Bennett snatched a pair of pants and a top.
Quills filleted out on the man’s head when he bowed, gesturing an item to Atana. Taking the short, hand-woven dress from the worker, she tied it tight over her shoulders and dropped their swirling covers.
Bennett’s gaze locked with hers. Outside she had lifted the impassive mask again. But deep within burned discomfort.
Kios, the Xahu’ré boy Atana had bonded to before the mutiny, wove through the workers to Atana, his hands in the air. “Vi ahna mitrasso?”
She picked him up, setting him on her hip. “Yes, we are safe. How are you?”
His luminous, navy eyes hid behind soaked lashes. He hugged her neck, resting his head to her shoulder. “Scared.”
The fields around Bennett faded with every worry as he watched her console the boy, then walk his direction.
“You will never be alone, Jameson. Not after this. We are all—” She glanced over at a dressed Azure. Bennett looked too. Azure’s robust arms crossed in frustration. “Part of each other.”
“Even if we don’t like it.” Azure snorted.
She sighed through her nose, looking to the fire-sanitized mud. “You know what I mean.”
Too soon for Bennett’s comfort, she would wear a full set of stripes like Azure and Kios, and all human hues would fade to the Xahu’ré’s dusky palate. He slipped the baggy shirt over his head, firming up his voice. “Same goes for you.”
It didn’t matter how he felt, how any of them felt. When they arrived back at Home Station, they would all have to comply with UP regulations, and the numbing hum of serum would return them to the machines they were designed to be. Soon, they would just be another face to one another. The thought was a stab in the heart.
Atana hung her head with a doubtful twitch of her lips.
“Hey.” Bennett hesitantly grazed a fingertip over the point of her elbow.
She looked up and nodded.
“Good.” Bennett rested his hands on his hips to take the weight of his heavier shoulders off his spine. “How are you feeling, little man?”
Kios clutched Atana tighter.
Bennett lowere
d his head to meet the boy’s gaze and tried out a smile. “Hungry, I’d bet.”
“He’s not the only one.” Azure rubbed his chest. “We will need more than Hatoga rolls and Brocanip fruit.”
“We did burn through a lot of calories.” Atana wiped a tear from Kios’s face.
Bennett’s mouth hung open at her soft emphasis on burn. “Was that—a pun, Nakio?”
A barely audible laugh slipped out. “I guess.”
He chuckled but couldn’t steal his focus from Kios, the sunken eye sockets and cheeks from malnutrition. Kios had been bullied far too long because of his smaller size. “We have lots of different food on Earth. I bet we can find something you like.”
Kios remained silent, navy eyes wide and glued to Bennett.
“You want to take Kios to Earth?” Azure’s brows knitted.
Bennett scowled at him. “You went. Besides, he’s a package deal now, don’t you think?” He pointed at Atana.
“Pack-age deal?” Azure scratched a hand through his disheveled charcoal hair.
“In Earth terms, it means we come together.” Atana twisted around to address him and gently adjusted Kios against her side. “If you want one, you get the other.”
“Sir, with respect—” Panton’s deep voice rumbled as the team hustled up to them. “What the hell happened, and how are you alive?”
Bennett clenched his teeth, forcing his unease back under the surface.
“You aren’t—human, are you?” Cutter gave Bennett a once-over.
“The shrink in you figure that out?” Panton smarted.
Josie backhanded him in the gut, her lips parted in shock.
The brawny shepherd cringed and chortled. “Sorry, cutie. Fields have done a number on my filter.”
Cutter surveyed Atana for a second, his words stretched from exhaustion. “I am well aware.”
The muscle in Bennett’s chest swelled and thudded heavily. He brushed it off as extreme fatigue coupled with hunger. “Thought I was human until last night.”
“Glad you’re okay, B.” Tanner’s hands hung from his technical harness, his knuckles pale and stretched. “Quite the show. Watched after we got everyone out.”
“Had us pretty damn freaked,” Josie added, wiping a sleeve over her forehead, freeing smudges of dirt and exposing more freckles.
A building ache burrowed into the front of Bennett’s brain. Cascading through his spine, it sent every nerve tingling, filling his entire body with the sensation it was asleep. He shivered in violent disgust, his stomach churning. A migraine from going too long without food never set in that fast.
“Did everyone get out in time?” Atana set Kios on the ground and covertly wrapped a steadying hand to Bennett’s arm.
“Yes, ma’am,” the team replied in unison.
“Bennett?” Atana’s voice was far off like he was daydreaming.
Something tugged at the back of his consciousness. The images sharpening in his mind were of nothing familiar. What is this, phase two?
Pangs shot through his brain as information poured in: fiery explosions, yelling, groaning metal, ships, and bodies. Thousands of them. Encrusting in ice and drifting through the starry void. It started like a replay of the past twenty-four hours—plasma pulses destroying a smoking planet—until a fragmented glint in the vision caught his attention, sending a rush of pressure into his skull.
He crumpled to his knees with a harsh grunt, splattering mud out in sheets. Holding his head, Bennett wished it would stop. His eyes wrenched shut, the air simultaneously hot and cold inside his lungs.
Atana dropped to the blackened sludge beside him, her hands bracing his back and shoulder. Someone else shifted to his left.
“B, what’s wrong?”
Tanner.
Bennett’s fingers dug into his hair, his breaths rapidly trying to stave off the jabbing signals in his brain. He tried to respond, but only a lengthy groan manifested in his throat.
A screeching boom echoed throughout the ship, startling him. Bennett lifted his head.
The shepherds and workers spun around, scanning, several scattering back to the hallways, shouting about another purge.
“That can’t be good,” Azure muttered, walking up to Atana’s side.
“You don’t know what it means?” Josie shot a frantic glance at him as it echoed again, shaking the soil beneath.
“No. I have not heard it in the last twenty long cycles.” Azure cocked his head. “I do not hear any hydraulics or gears activating. It has nothing to do with the fields.”
Bennett’s vision cloaked in a golden sheen. He covered his face, trying to force back the ache as the third and final warning echoed through the expanse.
Silhouettes loomed against the dark void before him, warping the light of the stars. His heart thundered to life, casting yellow-white fissures of light out across the hulls—a three-dimensional sonar. Shaped like bundles of glass shards melted together at the nose, they drifted amongst fractured planets, ship debris, and icy clouds of bodies. His eyes, searing with pity and anger, scoured the field of destruction, searching for an explanation.
Who are they? Why are you showing me this?
A smooth vibration lingered in his bones, an energy balanced in rhythm and strength: a song conducted through every thread of his being. It was one of warning. Of the future. Of death.
Who are you?
Thrown back into his body without an answer, he gasped for air like he’d been holding his breath. His spine felt like it was being torn from him, one vertebra at a time. The agony gripping his stomach rendered his legs useless. Bennett sagged forward, collapsing into the soppy earth.
The two at his sides scooped him up, helping him sit. He wheezed, his joints rattling and mud sliding off of his skin.
“We’ve got you,” Atana cooed, freeing the grit from his eyes. “Did you see something?”
The shapes of the ships reminded him of the arced Suanoa towers far above them, the ones around the abaddon deck. He swallowed hard, tasting the bitter clay-infused water running down his face. “I think m-more are coming.”
“More what?” The layers of Tanner’s multi-colored eyes constricted, his only sign of fear.
Shivering despite the heat in his bones, Bennett tried to wipe the silt from his mouth with the back of a hand. “Suanoa,” he choked out.
The amassing group around them murmured their disbelief.
“How do you know?” Atana asked.
“A lot of ships, plasma-destroyed planets, and—” Seeing her body tilt back in defeat, he couldn’t finish. Didn’t need to. She already figured on the last part: death.
Atana jerked her nose at Tanner. “Check the logs.”
He flipped his laptop open on bent knees, his fingers flying across the soft-press keys.
A gentle hand wrapped around Bennett’s neck, pulling their heads together. I felt it, she whispered in his mind.
His eyes whipped up at hers then to Azure, whose face was blank.
“I don’t believe this.” Tanner scrolled through the system they’d hacked last week. “The senior member of a Suanoa has a special link to the ship.”
Azure shifted behind Tanner’s shoulder to read the screen.
“What does it mean for us?” Bennett asked, still sagging in Atana’s arms.
“It says, in the event the connection has been severed for more than half a cycle, about twelve Earth hours, and control has not been reassigned to the next member in line, their default system sends out the distress signal to nearby outposts.” Tanner pointed at what he read and looked to Azure for confirmation.
Azure bent forward, his eyes dancing over the symbols.
“They are coming,” he echoed, repeating it in Xahu’ré so the workers behind him would understand. “Roa’ii vi ruaha.”
It was and wasn’t what Bennett wanted to hear. He hadn’t imagined what he saw or felt. But their people were bloodied and their fortresses broken. More Suanoa against reduced defenses was the fa
ll of Sparta all over again.
A boy slipped from the gathered life forms, running back to the cluster in the hallway, shouting for Paramor.
Kios latched onto one of Azure’s legs, his eyes wide with fear. Azure brushed a hand over the boy’s head, still reading Tanner’s screen. “We will fight, Kios. Do not worry, little warrior.” But his face fell. Azure reread a line then urgently rested a finger beside it.
“What?” Bennett and Atana asked at once.
Azure’s eyes twitched between them, jaw set. His gaze etched with defeat.
Reading the blinking box, Tanner let out a string of hearty curse words. Schematics popped up on the screen. He raked his fingers up into his dusty blond hair, his voice cracking. “Warships.”
Chapter 7
THE WORD RUSHED through the crowd like wind in the trees.
Scouring the ship’s data filled Atana with intense dread, darkened memories touching her consciousness and fading. Her face contorted in frustration as the past slipped through her fingers again.
“I saw three,” Bennett confirmed with a nod.
Josie leaned into Panton who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “How long until they get here?”
Tanner shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. There’s too much flying across the windows for me to read it now.”
Adjusting Bennett in her grasp, Atana squinted over his shoulder. The streams of code were fast, but she had no trouble keeping up. “They are sending two from Piyan and one from Trahmus outposts, divisions of Zephyr Station closest to our sector of this galaxy. Two weeks for the first two, and a few days after, the other should arrive.”
