The Lifeline Signal

by RoAnna Sylver

  “And I can’t go back to feeling nothing. I want to feel something.” As Indra spoke, they heard the whistle-crack as he hurled a rock at a dragon. Felt the flash of recognition the first time Shiloh saw his face. Knowing xie couldn’t miss this amazing, brilliant ‘Chance.’

  “What your brother felt.” Annie nodded, echoes beneath her voice. A motorcycle engine mingled with her yell to get on, hurry up. Radio Angel’s distorted words, coming from a dragon-ghost’s mouth.

  “No. What I feel.” Indra’s voice was stronger and so was the wind, cold but fresh like spring water Parole hadn’t tasted for a decade. “What I’m feeling right now. You did that. It hurts. But you make me feel like I exist.”

  “Parole hurts,” Shiloh said as the light around them grew. It didn’t come from the fire, but from the sky. A crescent moon had joined the stars and no smoke obscured them. Their light did not hurt xir eyes. “But I wouldn’t trade it. Not for you.”

  Something warm touched xir fingers and Shiloh looked down. It was bright enough to see Annie’s hand. Xie took it, then Indra’s in the other.

  “I can’t be glad this night exists,” Annie said quietly. “But I’m glad we exist.”

  “I think that’s enough for now.”

  The city fell away into the distance. Its firelight, so terrifying up close, darkened to nothing more than a faint flicker. They stood there together and watched the city fade like a dimly glowing ember into the darkness. The three of them, the moon, and stars remained.

  “Hey, guys. It’s your Radio Angel. It’s about 4:00 a.m. again, on a…no. I can’t do this anymore.” Kari took her headphones off, unplugged them, and turned up the microphone and speaker volumes as loud as they would go. She wasn’t whispering anymore. “I know you can hear me. You could the entire time, couldn’t you? I’m not just yelling into the void, the void is listening.”

  She took a breath and waited. Just like always, silence was her only answer. Hands curling into tight fists on her knees, Kari did what she did best and started to speak.

  “Hey Celeste. I’m talking to you. Not Parole, you. You’re alive. I can’t stop saying those words. You didn’t die. They didn’t get you. So maybe they won’t get me.”

  She paused. She was met with silence, just like every other night. And just like every other night, Kari kept talking.

  “Jay opened Maureen’s disk. With a little help from a friend. Seven. A good kitty. And from you.” She picked up the open envelope resting on the console nearby. Jay had been happy to return it, clearly too happy to be reunited with Seven, and occupied with the newly opened disk to wonder why she wanted the envelope back.

  “And I got some help from a friend too. From a boy who…” Kari swallowed hard, but fought the tears back for now. “Everybody talks about how much Indra looks like Mihir. Nobody says how much—” she broke off, hands starting to shake. “I pushed the button, Celeste, I know what it’s supposed to do. But it didn’t happen. Not for me. And when it finally did work, you still didn’t come back.”

  She took another breath and waited again. Again, no answer.

  “Okay, listen. I don’t even care if Parole can hear me right now. And I don’t care if I ever get home. I care about hearing your voice again. And seeing you, and—Celeste, my best friend, my shiniest, most brilliant star in the whole freaking galaxy, superheroine of my—of my heart? I know you think you’re protecting us by staying away. Or something. Well…” She bit her lip and tasted salt. Tears. They’d been falling for the past minute and she hadn’t noticed. “I’m not safe, when I spend every night wondering if you’re alive or dead. I’m not safe at all. It’s almost worse, knowing you’re there but not…just say something. Please.”

  She waited. Five full seconds. Six.

  “You always had a plan. And then another one, and—just so many plans. So maybe this is part of your plan too. So okay. I’ll sit here and wait all night. As long as it takes. But I can’t beg anymore, I’m too tired. I’m running out of words. I just…I hope you heard any of this. I hope you’re there to hear at all.”

  Ten more long seconds of silence passed. Slowly, Kari laid her head down on her console and shut her eyes.

  Then a speaker crackled. A voice resolved itself from the static like a figure stepping from swirls of thick fog. “Kari?”

  Kari’s heart fluttered, skipped. She knew before asking. “Who is this?”

  “You know who it is.”

  A breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God, you heard me.”

  “I’ve heard you every night. Even before Shiloh got there, but that did help, yes. Ever since the collapse.”

  “Celeste?”

  “You have no idea how much I wanted to answer, it killed me not to. I couldn’t, I’d be leading the enemy right to you.”

  “It’s fine,” Kari sobbed. Suddenly none of this felt real, not even the words she was saying. The only ones that mattered were the words through that speaker. “It’s just Parole rules. Gotta make sure you’re not followed. You come home alone—”

  “Or you don’t come home at all, that’s right. Well… I’m alone now. But soon, you won’t be.”

  “You’re alive! This feels like a dream—no, no, everything else felt like a dream, until right now!” Kari didn’t know if she was crying or laughing, but whichever it was, it felt good. “A nightmare! The worst one I’ve ever had, I kept waiting to wake up and look over and see you. But I couldn’t wake up and I couldn’t make anything better, it was just—wrong, it was wrong, and I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying anymore!”

  “Then just listen. I’m so sorry I had to disappear, Angel—But there was so much I had to do. Evil triumphs when good women do nothing.” Kari had her ear pressed against the speaker now and eyes shut, trying to sink into the sound.“And I knew you’d be all right, I knew everything would turn out fine. It was a risky plan, but I knew if anybody could pull it off, it would be you and everyone on the FireRunner.”

  “Plan? I was right. You always have a plan…”

  “This one wasn’t just mine. Garrett Cole brought together about six loose ends. The entire Tartarus ghost business was entirely his idea, credit where credit’s due. He’s still quite sharp for a dead man. And our friend Regan proved beyond a—”

  “What?” Kari sat up straighter now, attention thoroughly seized even through her emotional haze. “Did you say Regan helped you? Is he there?”

  There was another pause on the other end, a couple seconds long. “Regan remains a friend. For everyone’s safety, including, and perhaps especially, his, that is all I feel at liberty to say.”

  “But he’s okay, he’s alive? Oh no, you can’t tell me about him—what about Parole? Have you heard from them?” Kari gasped. “The beacons! And the barrier around Tartarus, and now Turret knows that we know he was planning something! What’s going to happen to Parole?”

  “Don’t worry about Parole. Evelyn knows what’s happened; she’ll make sure everyone’s prepared for the fallout. And don’t you worry either. Just remember what ‘Icarus’ really means.”

  “Tell me again,” Kari breathed, leaning closer. Her lips almost brushed the microphone.

  “A sad little man in a quiet room sees someone threatening his rule,” Celeste whispered, and all at once Kari felt very young. Remembered staying up too late, telling stories by the light of a flashlight under a blanket. Her voice sounded like it had then. “He sets a fire, our wings burn. We all fall down. But that’s not how the story ends. Because I’m here to catch you, Angel. It means I’ll always catch you when someone decides you’ve flown too high.”

  “Celeste, I have so much to tell you, but—never mind me, what did you—?” There were so many words Kari had to say, she couldn’t even get one out. “Just, what are you doing right now? Tell me anything!”

  “What am I doing?” The repeated question didn’t sound playful or even thoughtful. Celeste just sounded overwhelmed and tired. But it only took a moment to recover and, whe
n she continued, it was with complete conviction and steely resolve. “Finally doing things my way, that’s what. Press the button again, please.”

  “Okay!” Kari scrambled for the envelope, shook the cylinder out, and eagerly complied. Then she waited. “Celeste, are you there? Nothing happened. Again.”

  “Hang on, two seconds,” Celeste’s voice continued, and now it sounded different, louder and clearer through her speakers, like the connection had improved significantly. “That’s much better. Now, you were asking what was going to happen to Parole? Well, I’m not quite sure. But I can say that after tonight, it’ll be very fast and all at once, and we’d better be ready.”

  “We don’t know what to do, though!” Desperation crept back into Kari’s voice for the first time since hearing Celeste’s. “There’s so much, all at once! Turret, and Sharpe, and Tartarus, and Parole is still collapsed—and everyone’s so scattered, so many of us are missing! Or getting hurt! Or…”

  “I know,” Celeste’s previously quick, confident tone dropped. “I heard about Ash. I’m so sorry, Angel. He was a good man and losing good people is never easy. Fortunately,” her voice lifted again, as if she were trying hard to lift both of their spirits as well. “I’ve found a few as well.”

  “Regan, right?”

  “And Gabriel. They’ve both been a great help. Without them, I never could have found… well, I think I’ll let Jay fill you in there. He did receive the little gift I sent, didn’t he?”

  “You mean Seven?”

  “Yes, finally!” Celeste laughed and Kari did too, even as more hot tears rolled down her face. “Turret’s got a big, nasty surprise coming. And Parole’s got a few big good ones. So does Jay. And Shiloh—and Regan, and Evelyn, so many people, they’ve all suffered enough. And so have you.”

  “What about you though?” she sniffed. “You’ve been hurting too.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” the voice on the other end was firm but Kari caught the split-second hesitation. “None of us did. I had to do what—”

  “But you had to do it alone. We just missed you so much.”

  “I…I missed you. I miss a lot of people.”

  “So come home. You can come back now. Can’t you?”

  “I was so scared of putting you in danger,” she said in a shaky whisper after a long silence. “You and Parole and… I just couldn’t move. I’m supposed to just reappear like a light-speed heroine with the vital information and save the day, but—”

  “You think being scared stops you from being a hero? Or hurting? You keep moving even when you’re scared out of your mind. I think that makes you more of one.”

  “God, I’ve missed you. That was the hardest part, you know. Listening to you every night, hearing you cry and having to cover my mouth and say nothing back. Or worse, hearing you say exactly what I needed to hear, and still stay away.”

  “Hey, Celeste. Guess what.”

  “What?”

  “Everything really is going to be okay.” The words came out effortlessly, felt right and real. For the first time in months, she barely thought about them or whether or not they were true. Her chest felt light and warm.

  “I believe you.” Celeste’s voice was clearer than ever and Kari could hear something else underneath it: metallic footsteps. “Now are you in your room?”

  “Huh? Yeah. I’m pretty much there all the time now.”

  “All right.” Celeste paused, taking a deep breath of her own. “Here goes.”

  Three soft knocks broke the silence.

  Kari jumped and spun around in her chair to stare at her heavy iron door. Her heart pounded, blood rushing in her ears. Crossing her room felt like an eternity, like crossing Tartarus itself, like drifting through an endless dream. She’d lost count of the nights she’d prayed to go to sleep and wake up in the morning to find that the last few months had been a nightmare. After all those desperate wishes, her only wish left was that she wasn’t dreaming now.

  When she reached the door, she did not open it.

  “Please don’t be a trick,” she whispered. “Please don’t be a lie. Please don’t be a dream. Not after all this. I need it to be you. I need to believe it’s going to be okay too.”

  Stillness stretched. Behind her, the soft hum of white-noise static filled the air. Radio silence on all frequencies. But then, Kari did hear a voice. It did not come from a speaker.

  “Angel, open the door.”

  She did.

  And Lakshanya Chandrasekhar—Celeste—stepped through.

  Many pieces of the world, like its people, were shattered beyond repair, edges brittle and easily broken. But some still fit together, exactly as they should. Radio Angel and Celeste fell into each other’s arms, in a dance much slower, much sweeter than their silent embrace on the stage of the Emerald Bar. They fit together like missing pieces finally found. So did their lips.

  The FireRunner continued homeward through the vast black void, a tiny point of blazing light against a rotten sea stretching hundreds of treacherous miles. Far in the distance, a city burned. The people inside managed to survive, by doing what they had done every day until this one. They reached into the abyss, and found helping hands reaching back for them.

  Somewhere else, a smoking gun still waited to be found. Men in quiet rooms slept very well at night. But so did the dreamers on this ship, safe and sound.

  And so did the ones in that far-off city, which wouldn’t burn for much longer.

  * ☆ *

  The end, for now…

  Stay tuned for Book 3 of the Chameleon Moon series,

  coming soon from RoAnna Sylver!

  Thank you so much for reading!

  Thank you to Moo and Kevie for the never-ending support, love, and bunny-snuggles. And for reminding me to eat, take meds, and generally keeping me alive while this book took over my entire brain. <3

  The Lifeline Signal wouldn't be the same without the lifesaving words and encouraging presence of Claudie Arsenault. And neither would its author. You made everything at least eight times better. (Love you, Kraken Collective! Best octo-friends!)

  Thank you so much to Lyssa Chiavari for the graphic design/formatting magic, and Laya Rose for the amazing cover art. This gorgeous book is gorgeous because of you.

  It’s time to deeply appreciate Uli for Tsalagi sensitivity reading, content checking, collaborating—and infinitely more. I wish I could spend three millennia thanking you and your generous eye. You helped me find the key to this book, solve its puzzles, and trust in the heart of its pages through the power of friendship. If I can ever return the favor… just give me a ring.

  Deepest gratitude to Vivek Shaker and Thrupthy Jacob for their invaluable assistance in writing Indra, Lakshanya, Rishika and Bhanu Chandrasekhar. Thank you for your time, energy, and words of encouragement.

  Thank you to Tabby for the edit-assists, being so excited over this book, and the Oxford-tunities.

  Eri, thank you for joining me in the endless nerdery, thread-connecting, and emotional flailing that helped this book evolve into something better than I ever imagined. The more things change...

  Thank you to Quinn Phan for the Vietnamese fairy tales, fact-checking, weird coincidences, and memes. Get yourself a badass leather jacket. The bike will take care of itself.

  Tobias, you're welcome for xie/xir/xirself. Thank you for existing.

  Now you listen to me, Jack. You're gonna rattle the stars. Let this lighthouse in the sea of time light your way.

  Thank you to my amazing patrons on Patreon, especially Quinn. You support me while I create things that I hope make the world a little more beautiful and safe, with less fear and pain. That's what you do for mine. (I'm at patreon.com/RoAnnaSylver. If my words helped you, checking that out would help me more than I can say.)

  Thank you Intr0. I still hope you're proud. I hope the words came out right.

  I could write a book entirely of Thank You’s and still need more pages. I’m more blessed than I ever im
agined. Thank you for catching me. Thank you for reminding me that falling isn’t always the last thing you do. Sometimes it’s the first thing.

  The moment I let go of it was the moment I got more than I could handle

  The moment I jumped off of it was the moment I touched down.

  — “Thank You,” Alanis Morissette

  RoAnna Sylver is passionate about stories that give hope, healing and even fun for LGBT, disabled and other marginalized people, and thinks we need a lot more.

  Aside from writing oddly optimistic dystopia books, RoAnna is a blogger, artist, singer and voice actor, is an actual genetic mutant (and proud), knows too much about Star Trek, and lives with family and a small snorking dog near Portland, OR.

  The next adventure RoAnna would like is a nap in a pile of bunnies.

  Don't miss out!

  Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever RoAnna Sylver publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.

  https://books2read.com/r/B-A-RHKD-EWWK

  Connecting independent readers to independent writers.

  Did you love The Lifeline Signal? Then you should read Life Within Parole by RoAnna Sylver!

  Living in a city whose population has been quarantined and imprisoned over an eternally burning lake of fire isn't what most people would call a 'normal life.' Then there are the superhuman abilities. Thousands of people with wings, scales, telepathy, sonic blasts - 'normal' seems long gone. But life goes on. Eventually, everyone discovers that life within Parole is just as real, meaningful, fun, frightening, mundane, and survivable, as any other. Sometimes it's just a little more intense.