Cara took her seat and peered between heads at Alona, scanning her face for hints of good or bad news. The L’eihrs had defeated the Aribol, but not easily. They’d struggled to infiltrate the Destroyer, and during the battle for control of the ship, it had drifted into the planet’s gravitational pull and gone down in the ocean. Several shuttle pods had ejected before impact, and it was unclear how many Aribol had escaped or where they’d gone. Then there was the issue of the Voyager crew, none of whom had made contact since the day Jake Winters went offline.
The head Elder lifted her chin, surveying the group with her cool gaze for several moments before she spoke. In true Alona fashion, she started with a bang. “The escaped Aribol are alive and in my custody. I have issued a summons to their leaders to discuss the terms of their surrender.”
Cara sniffed a quiet laugh and sat an inch taller. She was proud of her title as Chief Human Consultant to the most badass woman in the universe.
“I expect a reply momentarily,” Alona went on. “In the meantime, we can discuss our demands.”
“What demands?” barked a representative from the third row, a husky bearded man whose name Cara didn’t remember. “I want them all dead.”
The woman seated next to him nodded in agreement. “The blackout killed two thousand people in my country, and those are just the casualties we know of.”
“We lost five hundred in our hospitals alone,” another woman said. “Without life support systems, we’re losing more by the day.”
The bearded man stood up, raising a fist. “Their attack on us was unprovoked. Instead of accepting surrender, I say we launch a counterattack and finish them off.”
“With what ships?” Cara asked. The Aribol were in possession of the last Voyager craft, and the only intergalactic transport that remained was on L’eihr. Technically they could send it to war, but that would be a foolish risk. “We’re landlocked at the moment.”
“Then we’ll use this,” the man said, splaying his hands at the fleshy walls around them. “We’ll learn how to pilot the fleet and attack the Aribol with their own ships.”
Cara didn’t like where this discussion was headed. She wanted the battle to be over, not to escalate the war. The Aribol, however many of them remained, would fight back if attacked, and who knew how many Destroyers they’d stationed throughout the galaxy? Besides, the Council had already agreed to demolish the ship and its fleet. Nothing this deadly should be allowed to exist.
Alona didn’t offer her opinion. She folded her hands in her lap and followed the conversation until a high-pitched whine from her quarters announced an incoming transmission from Zane. She lifted a hand, and the Council fell silent.
“Greetings,” Zane said when his façade appeared in midair beside Alona. It didn’t escape Cara’s notice that for once he didn’t call them children. “My leaders have reviewed your summons and authorized me to discuss the conditions of a truce.”
“A truce?” Alona repeated. “Do you mean surrender?”
“I do not.”
She arched a brow at him. “What conditions do you propose?”
“We have established the following boundaries for your review.” His mask vanished, and in its place flashed a series of star charts Cara couldn’t read, one unfamiliar constellation after the next, until finally his face reappeared. “Peace will be maintained for as long as you observe your distance from our system. I must also mention this offer is conditional on the return of any of our kind being held prisoner on your worlds.”
Angry chatter broke out, murmurings of offer? and conditional? filling the room. The representative from China stood up and bellowed, “You’re in no position to dictate terms. We have the power to drive you into extinction.”
Despite the threat, Zane’s computerized voice remained as impassive as ever. “Your Voyagers are alive and in stasis on board their ship. As a courtesy for the release of our prisoners, we will return yours as well.”
Cara leaned forward, waiting for Alona to accept the offer on behalf of the Council. Maybe the terms were a bit restrictive and Zane’s delivery less than humble, but as long as the Voyagers returned home and everyone lived in peace, who cared?
Apparently, several people.
“What about restitutions?” demanded one representative.
“Forget restitutions. They should pay with blood!” shouted another.
“Total extinction!”
“It’s what they deserve!”
“Stop.” Cara stood from her seat and faced the group, beseeching them with wide eyes. “I have no love for the Aribol. What they did to us was unforgivable. They almost wiped out two civilizations just because they were afraid we’d team up against them. But there’s an entire crew of humans and L’eihrs on that Voyager ship who risked everything to give us the information we needed to survive. Now they’re counting on us to bring them home.”
“What about the dead?” argued the bearded man. “And their families? They’re counting on us to vindicate them. We must never forget their sacrifice.”
“We don’t have to forgive—or forget. We only have to look forward.” Cara spread her arms and told the Council a simple truth. “The last few weeks have taught me that life is worth fighting for. And life is made up of a series of moments like these—choices like these. It’s those choices that define us. Our decision today will affect the future of three worlds. So what will we choose? To avenge the dead, or save the living?”
She peered from one pair of eyes to the next as silence thickened the room. A few faces turned down in contemplation. Others shook their heads or set their jaws. She didn’t know what more she could say. She’d delivered her best argument, straight from the heart. If that didn’t sway them, nothing would. So she squared her shoulders and faked a confidence she didn’t feel, then made a formal motion before the Council.
“I move to accept the Aribols’ terms and bring our people home. I move to fight for the living. Who will second it?”
Night had fallen, but with no windows inside the ship, Cara didn’t realize it until Colonel Rutter appeared in the doorway and announced, “Pack it up, kids. This is your last call. Everyone to the shuttle.”
Cara pulled her head out of a storage cubby and clicked off her flashlight. She sat back on her heels and looked at Aelyx, who was elbow-deep in a waste chute at the other end of the lab. From there, she shared a glance with Troy, Elle, and Syrine, all of whom had paused with various alien artifacts clutched in their hands, their eyes round with the same realization.
The elixir wasn’t here, assuming it existed at all.
“Can’t we have a few more minutes?” Cara asked. “There’s one area we haven’t searched.”
“No can do, Sweeney.” The colonel thumbed behind him. “The nuke’s here. I have to prep for the remote detonation, and my team can’t bring the warhead on board until everyone’s gone. It emits radiation—low-level stuff, but you know, safety regulations and all.”
Nobody spoke or moved. All eyes shifted to Syrine as if waiting to see how she would react. Cara held her breath, and she knew the others did, too. None of them had expected to find the elixir, but they’d wanted more than anything to be wrong.
Syrine set down a metal object and brushed off her hands. Her expression was neutral, as though she’d already made peace with David’s fate. When she joined the colonel at the door, the rest of them did the same.
Elle cupped Syrine’s cheek and shared something through Silent Speech. Whatever she said made Syrine smile, and the two linked arms and led the way into the hall. But before the rest of them could follow, Rutter blocked their path.
“I need a word.” Rutter snagged Troy by the sleeve. “You, too, Sergeant.”
Troy stiffened his backbone and saluted the colonel.
“At ease.”
With his feet spread hip-width apart, Troy relaxed his posture and folded both hands behind his back.
“First of all,” Rutter said, beaming at Cara, “that
was some smooth talking you did back there at the Council meeting. I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but I’m mighty proud.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “You’ve come a long way from that shell-shocked girl I met last year in the principal’s office.”
Cara’s face heated. She didn’t know why, but praise always made her more uncomfortable than insults. She lifted a shoulder and gave a small grin. “Thanks. I’m just glad enough people agreed with me.” The vote had been close.
“As for you,” the colonel said to Troy, “I pulled some strings with the president, and she awarded you a full pardon for assaulting her secret service officers.”
Troy released a lungful of air. “No court-martial?”
“That’s right, son,” Rutter told him, then inclined his head. “As for my decision to relieve you of duty, I’m more than willing to rescind that order …” He trailed off, using his sharp, gray eyes to deliver a message. “If that’s what you want.”
A slow smile spread over Troy’s face. When he darted a glance at Cara, her heart lifted because she knew what his decision would be. “Thank you, sir.” Troy stood at attention, flattening both arms by his sides. “It’s been my honor and privilege to serve as a United States Marine, but I respectfully request to join my sister on the L’eihr colony.”
Rutter brought a hand to his forehead in a salute. “Request granted, Sergeant Sweeney. Consider yourself honorably discharged.” He grinned and vigorously shook Troy’s hand. “Now get your asses on that shuttle so I can start the fireworks.”
When the first blush of dawn kissed the horizon, Cara and Aelyx sat cross-legged on one of many patchwork quilts spread over the safe house lawn. The countdown had begun, and with ninety seconds left to detonation, soldiers whooped and hollered as they jogged away from their posts and settled in to join the party. The excitement was infectious, like the Fourth of July and Christmas wrapped into one, and at the heart of it all were Mom and Dad, smiling as they carried trays of white paper coffee cups from one blanket to the next.
“Everybody take one,” Dad said. “I added a nip of something special.”
Troy took two cups. While handing one of them to Elle, he sniffed the coffee and flinched, then let out a low whistle. “Yeah, you did.”
“What’s in it?” Elle asked him, side-eyeing the brew.
“Jet fuel,” Troy joked.
Cara hesitated when Mom brought the tray to her blanket. “Go ahead,” Mom said with a wink. “It’s a celebration.”
As she and Aelyx helped themselves, someone shouted, “Thirty seconds!”
Dad tossed aside his empty tray, his face positively giddy. He waved Mom over to a quilt in the front, and while she tiptoed in between blankets, Mom raised her cup. “Quick, a toast. What should we drink to?”
One of the soldiers hollered, “To victory!” and his comrades cheered.
Everyone lifted their coffees in unison and chanted, “To victory.”
When Cara tapped the rim of her cup against Aelyx’s, she glanced into his eyes and caught him watching her with so much adoration that she forgot to take a drink. Something fluttered behind her navel, and for a long moment, there was only the two of them, drunk on love and the promise of the lifetime that lay ahead of them. If it were possible to feel any happier than this, she didn’t know how.
Brightness flashed from high above. It started as a pinpoint of light in the center of the Destroyer and quickly multiplied into a blinding fireball that forced Cara to shield her eyes and clench them tight. Even through closed lids, she could see the explosion, like a second sun. The boom came next, stronger than a hundred thunderclaps. On and on it went. The roar tore through the heavens for so long Cara peeked between her fingers to make sure mankind hadn’t broken the sky.
The Destroyer was gone. All that remained of its hull were the north and south spear tips, growing smaller by the second as they spiraled into space. Smaller chunks of metal had fallen into the atmosphere. They caught flame and streaked toward the ground, hurtling, Cara hoped, into the oceans or deserts instead of more populated areas.
Before long, the sky cleared and the early rays of sunlight painted the clouds light pink. Cheers and applause broke out, and then turned to shouts of delight when the front porch bulb flickered on and off a few times and glowed steadily. Cara set her coffee aside and clapped her hands, thinking of Larish hard at work somewhere in a government think tank.
He’d done it.
She was still smiling when her senses prickled, as if she were being watched, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Syrine sitting on the front porch steps, hunched over with her arms wrapped around her knees. She wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, just staring blankly over the lawn.
Aelyx had noticed her, too. While the celebration raged on, he and Cara strode to the front porch steps and sat on either side of Syrine. Aelyx handed her his coffee.
“Drink it,” he said, and flashed a teasing smile. “It contains a substance rumored to manufacture cheer and put hair on your chest. Humans call it whiskey.”
Syrine played along, taking a sip and then peeking down the front of her shirt. “The rumors don’t appear to be true.” She returned the coffee to him with a weak smile. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll be all right.”
“We want to help,” Cara said. “What can we do?”
Syrine rested her chin in her hand and turned her gaze to the trees. “Not much, really. I’ll need help retrieving David’s body from where I hid it. Then when the transport arrives, I want to lay him to rest on the colony. That’s what you can do for me. Take us home.”
Cara rubbed Syrine’s back. “I can do that.” Then the three of them sat in silence and watched a new day unfold. There was no more that needed to be said.
Chapter Twenty-One
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 28
L’eihr: The Final, Final Frontier
Guess what! After three weeks of waiting for the L’eihr transport to arrive, another two weeks hurtling through intergalactic wormholes, and five more days in quarantine, I’m finally writing to you from the colony in my new apartment on the third floor!
Why a new apartment, you ask? Because the old one—as seen on pages 52-54 of Squee Teen magazine—was damaged by a tidal surge when the Aribol Destroyer crashed into the ocean. Brief as it was, the surge really packed a punch. Our first season’s crops are ruined, half the solar-powered cars washed out to sea, and I found something in my underwear drawer resembling a jellyfish with spider legs instead of tentacles. (Aelyx says it’s harmless, but I still plan to burn those undies.)
Fortunately, we colonists aren’t afraid to roll up our sleeves and get our hands dirty. Which I’m about to do in the literal sense. Those seedlings that arrived from the continent aren’t going to plant themselves.
If you’ve applied to join the colony, please be patient with us as we rebuild. Construction is underway for a new fleet of transports and Voyager ships. Once they’re ready, we can open the cosmos for new immigration and visits from family members. (I’m talking to you, Mom and Dad.)
Until then, please be good to each other and savor every moment on that beautiful planet of yours. It’s not every day mankind dodges an apocalyptic bullet and lives to party on.
Posted by Cara Sweeney
Cara had just closed her laptop when the distant rumble of thrusters drew her attention to the window. She set her computer on the futon cushion and rushed to the glassy pane, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth as she watched a fifty-passenger shuttlecraft touch down on the beach.
“They’re here,” she called to Aelyx in the bedroom. “The Voyagers are home.”
Actually, the Voyager ship had arrived four days ago, just one day behind the transport from Earth, but strict quarantine protocols had delayed the colonists’ reunion until now. Cara bounced on her toes as the shuttle hatch opened and a set of stairs was unfolded below it. She couldn’t wait to throw her arms around Jake Winters’s neck.
Funny how
much had changed.
Aelyx sauntered, half-dressed, through the bedroom doorway and snagged a clean tunic from the storage bureau on his way out. The sight of his bare chest stunned her into a momentary daze, and clearly he noticed, because he proceeded to pull on his shirt and lower it with exaggerated slowness. Finally when the last sliver of his bronze, buttonless belly was concealed, he cleared his throat and blinked innocently.
“You were saying?”
Cara slid him a challenging glance. She was tempted to give him a taste of his own medicine, but the competition would have to wait. “The volunteers just landed, and I think their colony reps”—she pointed back and forth between them—“should be there to welcome them. Don’t you?”
By way of answer he extended an elbow, which she accepted, and the two of them strode into the hall and hooked a left toward the stairwell. They were halfway to the stairs when the door to her brother’s quarters slid open and Elle sneaked out, obviously wearing the same uniform as last night—her clothes were never that wrinkled at eight o’clock in the morning—and carrying her shoes in one hand. She started when she noticed them, then blushed and offered a quick wave before darting down the hall in her little socked feet.
Aelyx snickered to himself and shared a knowing glance with Cara. Troy had convinced Elle to join the colony weeks ago, when they were still on board the transport, but instead of declaring themselves as l’ihans, they’d announced they were “taking it slow,” which apparently meant pretending to sleep in separate bedrooms while they dated each other. Cara thought they were being silly, but she held her tongue, and for the most part, so did Aelyx. Their siblings could be as neurotic as they wanted to be, as long as they were here.
Nothing else mattered.
Outside, the morning dew gathered on their boot tips as they crossed the grassy pathway leading to the beach. Beyond the dunes, mist clung to the ocean waters, hovering in a way that promised another humid day with no breeze. The sand shifted beneath Cara’s soles, and she squinted against the rising sun toward the shuttle’s landing place to find a group of humans and L’eihrs stretching their legs and stomping their feet playfully on the ground, having not felt it in weeks.
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