Out of Orbit- The Complete Series Boxset

by Chele Cooke

  Georgianna leapt to the bars as Keiran got to his feet after her. The soldiers stepped into the cell, one after the other, four in all. Prising her grip from the metal, they shoved her back into a ragged Keiran. Taking her hand, he turned her towards him. The blue-grey of his wide eyes seemed to be the only colour in his face.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  “Keiran?”

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her, a simple kiss so desperate it took her breath away. A hand clamped down on her shoulder, making her squeal against Keiran’s lips. It yanked her backwards. Keiran’s chest heaved as two soldiers flanked him. Each took hold of an arm.

  “Keiran?” she asked again. “What’s happening?”

  The soldier restraining her kept a tight hold, his thumb pressing hard against the mark on her shoulder. She squirmed but couldn’t look away from Keiran’s face, set in grim determination. The first soldier held up the opened collar. This one, unlike Keiran’s, had a loop hooked into each side of it. She’d seen a collar like that before.

  Landon Cartwright had begged before it was put on him. He had cried and asked what he’d done wrong. His protests hadn’t stopped them from putting it on, and his cries hadn’t given them pause before they attached the electrical cord, turning his pleas to screams.

  Georgianna didn’t plead. She didn’t kick and scream as the soldier stepped forwards. She didn’t need to ask what she had done wrong like Landon had done; she already knew. She wasn’t useful enough to keep around. Maarqyn had other things to keep him busy.

  A small jolt made the hairs on her arms stand on end. The collar was loose on her, resting on her clavicle. The soldier moved to her side and took hold of her arm. She just managed to look over her shoulder as she was dragged away from Keiran.

  “I’m sorry,” she mouthed. “I love you, too.”

  The rubble of the podium had been cleared from the far end of the square. A single post was speared into the ground, with a hoop on top and a blue cord already attached. The sun shone weakly through the clouds, the sky grey and swirling. There were no stalls set up, no rowdy crowd waiting for the performance. The Adveni in the square were quiet and impatient. They stood separate, shifting their weight and glaring as she and Keiran were led through the crowd.

  Keiran’s collar had been swapped for one with hoops attached. It was only as they were brought out of the building that Georgianna realised they had been kept near Javeknell Square since being taken from the camps.

  Ehnisque stood next to the post dressed in her Tsevstakre uniform. Her long dark hair fell around her shoulders, rippling in the breeze. Their guards brought them to a halt in front of her.

  “This one first,” Ehnisque said without pause.

  Georgianna tripped as she was pushed in front of the post. Another Adveni wearing heavy black gloves stepped forwards. He picked up the end of the cord, drawing a long length through the first hoop on her collar and then again, coiling it around the metal. He did the same on the other side. The soldiers brought Keiran over and he was attached in the same manner before the free end of the cord was brought back behind them, attached to the post.

  “We thought, since the Belsa was so desperate to be captured alongside you, and you told us everything we needed in order to protect him, that it was only fitting that we didn’t take you away from each other.”

  “Thanks for that…” Keiran returned her sneer but his fingers trembled as he slid them into Georgianna’s. She grasped his hand tightly. She couldn’t bring any comeback to her lips. She couldn’t think of anything except the feeling of Keiran’s hand shaking in hers.

  “Well, since the podium was destroyed, this might take a little longer than usual. We wouldn’t want you to have to wait.”

  She chuckled as she walked away, leaving Keiran and Georgianna standing alone, tied to the post.

  “You never should have come out of the house,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry, Keiran.”

  He stared at the ground and shook his head slowly.

  “I’m sorry we were caught but I’m not sorry I’m with you.”

  “Do you think the others will make it?”

  Keiran looked at her then and, despite everything, there was a small smile on his lips.

  “You can stop worrying about other people now, George.”

  She nodded and gave him a sad smile.

  “So, you don’t believe in joining, but you’re willing to die for a girl,” she said. “Would have been good to know.”

  He squeezed her hand.

  “I would have changed my mind on the joining,” he whispered.

  Georgianna hadn’t imagined joining with anyone since she was a young girl. She’d imagined the dress she would have worn and the woven grass ring her partner would slide onto her finger for their entire tribe to see, for all under the sky to note. In her fantasies, she’d always had her hair braided with flowers, the way her mother had done it when she was a child.

  Now, she and Keiran were joined only by collars and everyone in the square would hear their screams. They faced them in tattered clothes and weak from torture. She’d not thought about a joining in a long time—certainly not seriously—but she’d never imagined it would happen like this.

  A rumble went through the crowd, drawing their attention. The prisoners now being led through the square warranted a far bigger guard. Each man was surrounded by six soldiers, every guard dressed in the slick black uniforms of the Tsevstakre. A short way before the post, the soldiers turned their captives to face the onlookers and forced them to their knees. Shouts of fury went up from the crowd. An open collar was handed to each captive. One of the men had his back straight, his jaw tight. He held the collar before him in both hands and, without waiting, clasped it onto his own neck.

  The second man bent double, his breath rattling through his teeth. The collar shook in his hands as he hesitated. One of the soldiers drove the butt of his rifle between the man’s shoulders, forcing him to straighten up. He glanced around and shakily attached the collar.

  “Lehksi Tzam, you have been charged with treason,” Ehnisque announced loudly, stepping before him. “State your crimes.”

  Lehksi took a deep breath and stared back at her. He hardly flinched.

  “I, Lehksi Tzam, cooperated with a traitor. I gave information that was to the detriment of my race. I betrayed my people. I accept my death.”

  Georgianna couldn’t believe it. Accepting his punishment without argument was absurd. Stating his crimes so plainly, asking them to kill him? Unthinkable. He hadn’t pleaded, he hadn’t asked for mercy. He knelt still as stone, waiting as Ehnisque moved to the second man on his knees before the crowd.

  “Goedt Lynec, you have been charged with treason. State your crimes.”

  It took longer for Goedt to reply. He took heavy, uneven breaths and stared desperately through the crowd. Nobody came forwards. Nobody spoke.

  “I, Goedt Lynec…” He choked on each word, forcing them desperately past his lips. “I cooperated with a traitor. I gave information and supplies that would aid my race’s enemies. I have…”

  He gasped and rubbed his hand across the front of the collar. Tears crept into his eyes and rolled silently down onto his cheeks.

  “I have betrayed my people and disgraced myself. I… I accept my… my death.”

  “There are no hoops,” Keiran whispered. Georgianna glanced at each Adveni. The collars were as smooth as those the dreta wore when under the ownership of an Adveni. These were not killing collars.

  The soldiers moved out of the way. Two men stepped forwards to stand on either side of Ehnisque.

  “You have both been sentenced to death. May you find peace and forgiveness for your crimes.”

  The soldiers raised their weapons, peering through sights on the heavy rifles.

  “Fire.”

  Two shots cracked through the square. The bullets speared into the collars with a bang. The metal clattered away across the concre
te and smoke rose from the necks of the two dead Adveni.

  Ehnisque gave a nod to the shooters, who melted back into formation. Four new soldiers moved forwards, pulling on heavy black gloves. They grasped the two men by their wrists and ankles and hauled them up, dragging them off to the side. Ehnisque smiled blandly and returned to the post.

  “Why don’t you shoot us?” Georgianna asked. “Why drag this out?”

  “You, Medic?” she said, snorting with laughter. “You’re not worth the bullets. And this crowd could use a little entertainment.”

  She moved to the post and crouched to tap something into a panel on the side. There was no ceremony, no words of regret or promises of forgiveness. She smirked as she hit the last key and moved away. A shock zapped Georgianna from head to heel. Keiran groaned and tried to tug his hand from hers.

  Ehnisque had been right; the shock wasn’t as strong as the last time a cinystalq had been clamped around her neck. Pain shot through her, tightening her chest and pushing a scream to her lips. She remembered what Edtroka had told her when Landon was executed. Their collars were the type which would cut off electricity from the brain, allowing them to stay conscious and aware. They would feel every shock. They would suffer every pain until their bodies gave out.

  Georgianna’s knee buckled. She fell sideways into Keiran and clung to him as the first scream sliced through her throat.

  “STOP!”

  She barely managed to lift her head as her other knee threatened to give way beneath her. She could see him across the square, his dark eyes piercing as he strode through the crowd towards the podium.

  Edtroka stopped in the centre, his arms spread wide. He held no weapons and he was out of uniform.

  “Stop, Ehnisque. It’s me you want!” he shouted across the square. “Stop the execution.”

  Ehnisque whirled around to face her brother and he straightened, staring at her.

  “I demand to see the Volsonnar.”

  The sudden absence of electricity shocked Georgianna as much as the first buzz that had shot through her body. Her legs trembled as she tried to straighten up. Keiran wrapped an arm tight around her waist, holding her close and keeping himself upright. His arm shook where he gripped her and sweat glistened across his forehead.

  The Adveni soldiers backed away from Edtroka, leaving him alone in the centre of the square. He stood straight and proud like Lehksi had done before he was forced to his knees. Georgianna wanted to scream for him. She wanted him to come to them and she wanted him to run. His hands were still spread to his sides and with a slow nod to his sister, he turned in a circle to show that he bore no weapons. When he faced them again, his gaze flickered to Georgianna and Keiran before settling back on his sister.

  “Send the message, Ehnisque,” he said. His voice was calm, almost pleasant, yet his lips were pursed and his eyes wary.

  “You do not tell me what to do, E’Troke!” Ehnisque snapped back. “You do not tell anyone what to do.”

  “Then by all means ignore me, if you think our father would not be angry at you for ending this before he has the chance to question me.”

  Ehnisque moved in front of them, partially blocking Georgianna’s view. Silent as shadows, a group of soldiers emerged from the crowd and took position around Edtroka. They drew weapons, but not a single rifle or copaq was raised to aim at the Volsonnar’s son. Ehnisque’s mouth fell open at the sight of the soldiers and Georgianna realised she had given no signal for them to surround her brother. Ehnisque looked just as surprised as the others in the crowd, who muttered with confusion.

  “Your father has given the command to me, E’Troke.”

  Maarqyn followed the soldiers from the crowd. He wore a heavy coat over his Tsevstakre uniform and a satisfied smile beneath his cruel eyes. Edtroka looked over his shoulder and watched as the commander circled around to face him. With a single nod from Maarqyn, one of the soldiers strode forwards, holstered his weapon, and patted his hands over Edtroka’s body. Edtroka did not flinch away from the search and, when it was over, he gave the soldier a cordial smile and lowered his hands.

  “I was given to believe that I would be granted safe passage to my father, Volsonne,” Edtroka said as the soldier returned to his place and redrew his weapon.

  “The time for that has gone.”

  “Are you suggesting that he would allow you to kill me without questioning me?”

  Edtroka’s voice was confident, almost arrogant. Georgianna remembered finding him in the drysta yard at the compound and hearing the self-assured way he had spoken to a man wishing to buy her. He didn’t feign politeness, and only when she learned that he was the son of the most powerful Adveni on Os-Veruh did Georgianna realise why he had been able to speak that way to those who would have been considered his superiors. He knew people were afraid of his father and therefore afraid of him.

  Georgianna looked at Keiran and gripped his arm. She wrapped one hand around her collar, pulling it down on her neck. Keiran’s warm breath rose in a cloud in the cold, wet air. They could both see that Maarqyn did not fear Edtroka.

  “Get my father here and I will come quietly.”

  “You have already come quietly, E’Troke,” Maarqyn said. “You have no weapon and you are surrounded.”

  Edtroka smiled.

  “If you believe that, Volsonne,” he said.

  Maarqyn’s nostrils flared.

  “Ehnisque, get the Volsonnar and then start the current again.”

  “No!” Edtroka’s shout was fierce as he pointed at Ehnisque. “You will get Father, but if you touch that current, Sister, you will be the first to die.”

  The fire in his eyes was vicious as he glared at Maarqyn.

  “I told you I would come quietly but if those two are harmed, this deal is off.”

  “Why would I care for your ‘deal’?”

  “Because, under the terms of my surrender, they are to be released immediately, and you would not go against my father’s orders. I am a far greater prize than two Veniche, don’t you think?”

  Maarqyn’s hand flinched at his side. He took a step forwards. Edtroka was taller but also slimmer. It would probably be an even match between the two if it came to combat.

  “Get the Volsonnar, Ehnisque,” Maarqyn growled.

  Ehnisque pulled a tsentyl out of her uniform and swiped it open. In the centre of the square, as she began tapping in details, Maarqyn and Edtroka faced each other.

  “There is no need for that.”

  The man’s voice was cold and calm as he stepped out of the crowd.

  “I am already here, Son.”

  The crowd parted with a gasp of surprise. They cleared an even larger space than they had for Edtroka. The soldiers surrounding Edtroka and Maarqyn jumped to attention and three moved to the side to let the man pass.

  He was tall, only a hair shorter than Edtroka. He had the same lean physique but he was slower and more reserved as he moved forwards. His dark hair was peppered with grey, slicked back against his head where it curled at the nape of his neck. His eyes were lighter than his children’s but he had the same penetrating gaze. There was no doubt that this was Edtroka’s father, the famed Volsonnar.

  Georgianna had never met the man before. She’d never even seen him. She had no idea whether she was supposed to kneel or stand to attention and so she remained still, leaning against Keiran, who tugged her closer and gripped her wrist with his free hand.

  “Father,” Edtroka said. “I had no idea an execution would be to your interest.”

  “Traitors are always my interest, E’Troke,” he replied coolly. “That it is my own son who would convince others to turn against their race makes no difference.”

  “I never wanted anyone to turn against the Adveni. I wanted fairness. I wanted justice.”

  “And my justice is not good enough for you?”

  Edtroka took a step forwards. Every soldier raised his weapon and pointed it at him. He jerked to a stop and raised his chin defiantly. Ma
arqyn melted away, sliding past the soldiers to stand at the inner ring of the crowd. While Georgianna was sure he thought himself important enough to control most proceedings, it was clear he had no intention of being a part of this family affair.

  “Ehnisque, deesa, come here.”

  His daughter moved with the tight grace of someone trying to look calm and collected. The Adveni endearment brought a smile to Ehnisque’s lips. Standing next to her father, she touched her hand to his shoulder and offered a respectful smile.

  “Volsonne, you know me,” Edtroka blurted. “I would die for any of my brothers. But events have changed them. Your promise when we came here was one of peace, of progression, not oppression.”

  The Volsonnar didn’t speak. He stared back at his son, emotionless. A freezing shudder ran through Georgianna at the sight of his cold reception.

  “There can be peace here, father. The Cahlven will meet, you know that. The Veniche want justice. If you offer it, we can live peacefully,” he continued. His voice wavered and Georgianna could hear the crack of fear that slipped through.

  The Veniche did not want peace with the Adveni, everyone knew that. The Adveni had destroyed too much and killed too many. No Veniche would ever be able to fully trust the Adveni, no matter what truce was made.

  “You offered safe conduct to the Cahlven. That can still happen.”

  Every word from Edtroka became more desperate in the face of his father’s silence. He took another step forwards.

  “Father…”

  The Volsonnar clasped his hands behind his back and straightened. Georgianna pushed herself off Keiran. Her lips parted. As the Volsonnar looked at his daughter and nodded, Georgianna wanted to scream.

  Ehnisque drew her weapon in a single fluid motion. Georgianna lurched forwards.

  “EDTROKA!”

  And Ehnisque pulled the trigger.

  The shot rang straight through Georgianna and out into the square. Edtroka’s eyes widened in surprise and horror. His lips parted in a silent cry. The bullet hit him in the forehead.