Star Rebels: Stories of Space Exploration, Alien Races, and Adventure

by Audrey Faye

  “Everything’s possible,” he whispered.

  “Yes, it is. And for you and Lexa, everything’s probable.” Doc’s smile was hard. “You two are the hope of a generation. They just don’t know it yet. But you do. Don’t carry that burden lightly.”

  “But why me?” Quinn asked, feeling both fear and excitement warring in his heart. “Why am I so important?”

  “You represent a leap in our program. The K500s are almost human. Not quite, but close. The K600s are indistinguishable from humans. They can blend in. But you? You and Lexa are better than human. More than, you see? And that’s what scares Maren. She wants to control you both. Trap your loyalty so she can use your gifts. Don’t let her. Bide your time. One day, you’ll make your move, and the entire world will stand still.”

  “What move?”

  Doc started climbing down the platform. “You already know.”

  Part 2: Eight Years Ago

  “Tell me a story,” Lexa said, chasing Quinn down the hall to the training room. “You promised.”

  She had a streak of dust on her face and cobwebs in her dark brown hair. Her skinny knees were dirt-encrusted, too, but her large brown eyes sparkled. She was up to something for sure.

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  “Finding a way into the attic. Now, what about my story?”

  He laughed. “We’re late. After we meet Doc, I will.”

  “Tell me the one about the puppet,” she insisted. “Who became a real boy.”

  His sigh was inward. She still thought it was a harmless story. She had no idea that Miss Maren had banned it. Hit too close to home, that story did. He never should’ve told Lexa about it. She didn’t understand the consequences.

  “How about a different story, about a princess who loses a shoe?”

  She made a face. “I know you’re changing the subject. Besides, you know I don’t like stories where the girl has to be rescued. I want a more…badass girl.”

  “Badass? Where did you pick up that word?” he asked, amused.

  “Loading dock. The guys delivering the groceries never even saw me hiding in the rafters yesterday.”

  Her smile was full of mischief, and Quinn laughed. “You are such a little sneak.”

  “Hey! That’s what Doc said I was made for. I have to practice.”

  They hurried into the training room, where Doc was waiting. “Lexa, up the ropes, please.”

  She scampered past Quinn, her ponytail swinging behind her. In seconds, she was halfway up the rope ladder on her way to the network of swings, catwalks, and nets strung from the ceiling.

  “Boggles the mind, huh?” Doc asked. “She’s like a monkey up there.”

  Quinn pushed down a tiny twinge of jealousy. He loved Lexa—she was his best friend—but her physical abilities outshined his and that bothered him. “Yeah. Monkey.”

  Doc peered at him. “What’s eating you?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “What should I do?”

  “Hide,” Doc said, smiling.

  “What?”

  “Hide. You’re so worried about what Lexa can do that you’ve forgotten what you can do. You’re my chameleon, kid. Blend in; make yourself invisible. Find a way to make yourself agreeable with the kitchen staff so that they give you extra sweets.”

  “Right now?”

  “Consider it a long-term assignment. Find ways to make friends here. The hellcat,” he cast a glance up at Lexa, nimbly leaping from platform to platform twenty feet overhead, “has her strengths, but her sweet disposition isn’t one of them.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? But he liked how she could go from mad to happy to curious to snappish in ten seconds. His cheeks warmed. He liked everything about her.

  “Look! Look!” Lexa called.

  Quinn’s heart shot into his throat as she jumped from the platform to catch a rope ten feet away. She swung around once, crying “Wheee!” before climbing back to the ceiling.

  “Come down from there, sweetheart,” Doc yelled. “Time for drills.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, but climbed down. Granted, she took the longest way, and Quinn had to hide a grin. Definitely not agreeable.

  “Remember what I said,” Doc whispered, turning so the camera couldn’t see his lips moving. “Chameleon. Maren had you made to infiltrate certain organizations. That’s your power. Hiding the real you and showing people what they want to see—they’ll trust you implicitly. You’ll be able to find out anything you want that way. Not as a pawn, but for you. Understand?”

  The urgency in Doc’s voice surprised him, but Quinn nodded. “I understand.”

  “Understand what?” Lexa asked, appearing like magic behind them. They both jumped, and she looked very pleased with herself. “Gotcha good that time.”

  “Sneak,” Quinn said.

  She batted at his curls. “Fluffy head.”

  “Skinny knees.”

  “Fart face.”

  Without warning, Doc swept a leg beneath both of them, sending them to the mat with a crash. “I win.”

  “Understand what?” Lexa asked again, glaring up at him. “Are you two keeping secrets?”

  “Yes,” Quinn said. “We’re planning to sell you to the circus.”

  “Fine, don’t tell me.” She popped up and climbed Doc’s back to wrap a thin arm around his neck. “Say uncle.”

  “Like that’s actually going to work if you run into real trouble,” Doc said. He shook her off with ease. “Both of you, on the treadmill. Wind sprints.”

  They grumbled but headed to the treadmills without talking back. “Betcha I can outrun you in a mile,” Lexa said.

  “With those short legs? As if.”

  “You may’ve grown six inches in a year, but I’m still faster.”

  He doubted she was, but the competition helped make the task more bearable. “Let’s go, then.”

  They took off running, each pushing the treadmill faster and faster until they were practically flying. Nine miles an hour, then ten, then eleven. Quinn’s heart beat a hard pace in his chest, but Lexa looked calm and determined, and there was no way he’d admit defeat.

  At the half-mile mark, Dr. Martine and Miss Maren came in to watch. Great—his lungs were shredded, but now they had an audience. To keep from slowing down, Quinn focused on their mouths, trying to read their lips.

  “…flawed. No discipline,” Miss Maren was saying. “Runs wild across the compound…cameras caught her in the attic…off-limits…”

  “…what you wanted,” Dr. Martine protested. “…look at that speed…concentration…”

  Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Lexa. “…you’re biased, Caldwell. You don’t see…failed programs should be scrapped.”

  Quinn started breathing harder, and it had nothing to do with the treadmill. Miss Maren hadn’t mentioned anything about scrapping Lexa lately. Why now? Had she messed up something in the attic?

  “…perfectly objective…can outperform anything you…”

  “…prove it…now…”

  He turned and said something to Doc that Quinn couldn’t see. Doc nodded and strode toward the treadmills, motioning for them to slow down. “They want to see you work.”

  They did as he asked, and Lexa followed Quinn to the center mat. She cocked her head at Miss Maren. “What can I show you, Ms. DeGaul?”

  Her voice was syrupy, and her eyes were wide with innocence. Doc called him a chameleon? He couldn’t tell if Lexa was messing with them or projecting what Miss Maren wanted to see.

  “It’s more of an assignment,” she said, sounding suspicious. “There are some people visiting tonight. I want you to steal some files from their personal data pads.”

  “What kind of files?” Quinn asked. The gears were already turning in his head.

  “I have no idea, but it has to do with the Quad. You need to get in there, review the files, and copy everything relevant. And you have to do it without being seen. By our cameras, or wha
tever security they bring with them.”

  The Quad? Quinn exchanged a glance with Lexa. This was big—the Quad was the council behind the incorporated governments of the four provinces. Miss Maren’s visitors hadn’t gotten crosswise with them somehow, had they? If so, this could be the biggest assignment the two of them had ever been given.

  “Who are we investigating?” Lexa asked.

  Now Miss Maren smiled, and it was a frightening sight. “The governor of Triarch City and his wife. They’ll be staying overnight as our honored guests and are important to our business with Precipice. They are not to know you’re artificials, understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they said.

  She fixed a hard stare on Dr. Martine. “If this works, I’ll reconsider.”

  “We can do it,” Lexa said. “We’ll get the secrets for you.”

  If Miss Maren was surprised by Lexa’s sudden interest, she didn’t say anything. After she swept from the room, a beaten down Dr. Martine in tow, Quinn pulled Lexa aside. “Why’d you agree so fast?”

  Her chin jutted stubbornly. “I can read lips as good as you. I know what she’s saying about me, and I don’t want to die.”

  Doc sighed behind them. “I don’t want that, either, Hellcat.”

  Quinn didn’t chime in. Lexa knew… She knew what was at stake. That her life hung in the balance on the whim of a crazy lady who changed outfits three times a day. Discarded like a useless com. Rage pulsed in his temples. His best friend was barely nine years old—she didn’t deserve to know things like this.

  “…master bedroom on the third floor,” Doc was saying. “You listening, kid?”

  Quinn’s focus snapped back to the present. “Yes. The easiest way to do this will be to work our strengths. I’ll make the guests like me and deflect their attention to keep them downstairs so Lexa can sneak into their suite and search their belongings.”

  “A real break-in!” Lexa clutched her hands to her heart, eyes shining.

  “You know, most people don’t get that excited about breaking into someone else’s room,” he said.

  She stuck her tongue out at him, then headed for the door. “I’m going upstairs to poke around. I might be small enough to go through the air ducts… You think?”

  “Worth a try,” Doc said. “Quinn, what are you going to do?”

  Forcing his thoughts past the anger was hard, but he said, “I’m going to learn everything there is to know about Governor Shaw and his wife. If I’m going to con them, I need to be convincing.”

  And since Lexa’s life hung in the balance, he’d be the most charming young man they’d ever met.

  “Governor and Mrs. Shaw,” the butler announced. He was a K600, built for etiquette and elegance. Miss Maren called him number thirty-one. Quinn and Lexa called him Preston. Preston liked that, which was how Quinn was perfectly placed to slip out behind Miss Maren when she went to greet them.

  The governor was a large man with a belly that made his shirt stretch tight. His wife was tall and slender and dressed like a faded model in a long dress. The nursery rhyme “Jack Sprat” ran through Quinn’s mind. He gave his head a shake to keep from laughing. Especially since two security guards—human—wearing dark suits came in behind them.

  “Governor, Mrs. Shaw. Welcome to my home,” Miss Maren said, ushering them toward the stairs and right into Quinn’s path. She stopped short, but covered her surprise by saying, “This is my, um, my nephew, Quinn. Darling…” The edge to her voice was barely perceptible. The Shaws would never hear it, but she knew he could. “Why aren’t you in the play room?”

  Showtime. Plastering a curious smile on his face, he said, “But…Aunt Maren, I’ve never met a real governor before.” He turned wide eyes on Mrs. Shaw. She looked like she wanted to put him in her pocket and feed him tea biscuits. “How do you do, ma’am?”

  Miss Maren’s expression was as brittle as frost on grass—until Mrs. Shaw said, “Oh, aren’t you adorable. Well, this is my husband, the governor of Triarch City.”

  Quinn shifted his expression to trustworthy and forthright. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. Or is it ‘Your Honor’?”

  “In public it is, but you can call me sir here.” He reached out to give Quinn a firm, if condescending, handshake. “You keeping up with your studies, young man? That’s important, you know.”

  Quinn held in the eye roll. He was more than keeping up—he was studying university-level mathematics for gears’ sakes. “I try my best, sir.”

  “Is Quinn joining us for dinner?” Mrs. Shaw asked.

  Miss Maren held Quinn’s gaze. He blinked once, slowly. After a long beat of silence, she smiled. “If you don’t mind children at the dinner table, I’m sure he’d be delighted. Now, my butler can show you to your rooms upstairs. We can meet in the library in half an hour for drinks if that’s convenient.”

  The Shaws agreed and were led away by Preston. The guards followed, and one shot a frown over his shoulder at Quinn. He smiled at him and waved. The guard’s frown melted into a quirky smile. That’s right, there’s nothing suspicious about a nephew you’ve never heard of. Just keep on walking.

  As soon as they were out of sight, Miss Maren marched him to the small study near the front door, the place she took meetings that she wanted over quickly.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she growled. “And how were you able to lie without twitching?”

  “You told them I was your nephew,” he said, thinking fast. She couldn’t know he’d finally broken his programming after months of work. “For now, that’s my reality. It’s not lying when I’m playing a part—it’s acting.”

  “This wasn’t in the plans.”

  “You told us to find out their secrets.” He squared his shoulders. “People often say things around children, not expecting them to notice. Besides, if I keep them entertained, Lexa will have more time to go through their things.”

  Miss Maren looked conflicted. He could tell she really wanted to find out everything she could, but the thought of Lexa succeeding wasn’t in the plans. “All right. I’ll give you some leeway. Fail me, and I’ll give Piers free rein. Am I clear?”

  Despite the fact that he felt like he’d swallowed a bucket of ice water, Quinn nodded. “Perfectly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find something to wear to dinner.”

  Miss Maren groaned as soon as his back was turned, and a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Failure wasn’t an option—they’d get results—but that didn’t mean he’d go easy on her tonight. Oh, no.

  He’d call her Aunt Maren every chance he got, just to rub it in.

  “But the Outlands need more stability,” Miss Maren said. “If we send artificial laborers into the other provinces, we can help create order. Don’t you think that’s our responsibility?”

  “No, I don’t,” the governor answered, spearing a large piece of steak with his fork. “They chose not to incorporate. Whatever happens out there now is their business. Not ours.”

  Quinn made himself small and invisible. It didn’t matter that they were sitting at a table for six. It didn’t matter that he was seated between Dr. Martine and Mrs. Shaw. He’d become a pair of ears and eyes.

  “Our trade is being curtailed. I lost three shipments this month alone.” Miss Maren’s expression was pleasant, but Quinn could see how tightly she gripped her wine glass. This was the reason for the visit.

  The governor sighed. “I understand, but do you really think that introducing artificials into Valardia is necessary right now? We’re so much farther along in development—”

  “So, Quinn,” Mrs. Shaw said, dragging his attention away from the debate. “Do you play any sports?”

  He forced himself to flash her a charming smile. “A few. I really like some of those old sports, like fencing and martial arts. I also love to run. I’m pretty quick.”

  “I bet you are. Do you run track at your school?” She frowned. “And where do you go to school?”

  From his research, he
knew the Shaws’s daughters went to Engleton prep, near midtown. “St. Andrews. I’m planning to try out for the track team in the spring.”

  “Brilliant.”

  She kept nattering on about the virtues of organized sports. With a few well-placed nods and “uh-huhs,” he could tune her out.

  “I’m just saying it’s a good time for expansion. Don’t you think? The Quad has grown very powerful of late. We can use that to our advantage,” Miss Maren said.

  “The Quad is a paper tiger,” the governor said. “They ceased to be relevant once the four city-states got back on their feet.”

  Quinn tensed. Next to him, Dr. Martine slowly set down his wineglass.

  The governor didn’t seem to notice the silence descending on the room. “They meant well, but it’s time we were given our independence to manage Triarch. Surely, you agree. Wouldn’t it be better to run Precipice without their interference?”

  Dr. Martine was staring at the corner of the ceiling. Cameras were everywhere. If Miss Maren didn’t handle this, they’d all be dead by morning.

  “The Quad gave us our lives back,” she said. “We owe everything to them.”

  “Everything,” Dr. Martine echoed, still looking worried. He glanced at the camera again. “Without them, we wouldn’t be here at all.”

  “They have their uses, to be sure,” Mrs. Shaw said. “But do we really need them? That’s why we’re—”

  “Not now, dear,” the governor said. He nodded toward Quinn. “We don’t want to bore the youngster.”

  Oh, he wasn’t bored. Far from it. But Miss Maren gave him a look that said he needed to leave. He faked a yawn. “That’s okay, sir. I’m a little tired. Aunt Maren, may I be excused?”

  “You may. And Quinn? We’re going to be in the library for a while after dinner, so please keep it down upstairs. No loud music or games.”

  In other words, he and Lexa had time to sneak around and eavesdrop on conversations. “Yes, ma’am.”