by J. M. Page
“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing throughout the gilded chamber.
“Do you think they’ve already evacuated?” Celine asked, voicing the fears Ben avoided acknowledging.
He swallowed a lump in his throat, thinking of the disconnected aristocrats and diplomats thumbing their nose at the Grounding to escape. He wondered how many were gone for good, never to set foot on Terran soil again.
“I don’t know,” he said, scrunching his eyes up tight, trying to think this through.
They didn’t exactly have a plan in place for this sort of thing. The force field never wavered, never faltered and never failed. It was unthinkable… Impossible.
“What about the safe rooms you mentioned? Could they be there?”
Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, Celine’s questions mingling with the billion others racing through his mind like dust devils, stirring up strange new suspicions and paranoia.
“I don’t know,” he grumbled.
Celine chewed on her inner lip, rocking on her heels. “Who could possibly have the means to do this? Surely if they could turn it off, someone else can turn it back on?”
Ben growled. “I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know anything more than you do. No one should be able to disarm it. No one can even access the control room. It’s been sealed for so long I don’t even think our best engineers could get through panel. It’s not our technology, it’s…”
“What did you say?” Celine asked, breathless, her voice soft, distant, and...frightened? Was she only just now realizing the danger they were in?
“It’s not our technology. The first settlers found it already here, I told you—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, long ebony tresses brushing her shoulders, her face pale as the moon in comparison. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she’d seen a ghost. “Before that… Not even your best engineers could get through it?”
Ben shrugged, not seeing the relevance. “So? It worked just fine for thousands of years until sometime in the last hours.”
“But what if you had a better engineer? Someone that could fix anything, regardless of origin. Could they get through the panel? Is the control room guarded? Surveilled in anyway?”
Ben frowned. “There’s no need. What are you getting at?”
Still her face was pale, green-tinged like she was going to be sick. He’d half expected it during launch, but now, he didn’t know what to make of it.
Celine reached into her pocket and Ben watched her slim fingers close around something and squeeze tight. At the same time, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled.
“I think this is my fault.”
Chapter Eleven
Celine
Ben didn’t just release her hand, he flung it away from him, taking long strides backwards as she stared at the ground, razor-toothed guilt eating her from the inside.
Betrayal was written all over his face and Celine felt true soul-shattering remorse for the first time.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t have any idea that it was going to be like this…”
“What. Are you. Saying?” Ben ground out through clenched teeth, his hands balled into fists at his side. Just below his hairline, a vein pulsed and throbbed with the effort of holding in his anger. Celine wanted nothing more than to back away, run back to the Wastelands, and forget that any of this happened.
But she couldn’t.
She made this mess and she needed to fix it, even if it meant Ben would never forgive her.
Even if it meant they decided to execute her. She hung her head in shame and pulled the shiny silver coin from her pocket, extending it toward him.
“Here, this belongs to you,” she said.
Ben took the coin from her grasp and for the briefest moment his fingertips brushed over hers, sending a tremor of excitement and longing through every synapse. She pushed it far far away. He’d never look at her the same after this. Better to divest herself of those fantasies now, while she still could. Before she fell any harder than she already had.
He turned it over, looking at both sides before raising his eyes to her, his brows pushed low on his forehead. “How did you...Where did you—”
Celine sighed. “It was me. You were right all along. I saw you crash. I saw you going off into the desert and I followed you. When you fell in the sand and didn’t get up, I helped you to shelter and gave you my water.”
His eyes grew wide.
“Then I dragged you to the wall and alerted them to your presence.”
His eyes drifted from her face, to her shoulder and lingered down her arm. He didn’t have to ask the question. She knew what he wanted to know before he had a chance to say anything.
Without a word, she peeled back the thick strap of the now-ruined dress and displayed her scar, nothing more than a thin white line circling the point where her arm met her shoulder.
“There is a native in the Wastelands. She traded this arm for mine. I wondered how it could possibly match me so perfectly but… Now I wonder if she wasn’t planning this all along. For decades maybe.”
“Planning what? I still don’t get what your arm has to do with any of this,” Ben said, his frown deepening even as he allowed her to take a step closer.
“My arm — my other arm — it never fails to repair something. I wasn’t lying when I said my father’s a brilliant engineer. He’s the Parts Master for all the modders in the Wastelands. He built my arm and it never fails. If Scorpia used it to open the control room, I’m sure it worked. I didn’t see it before, but she’s been here since before the first settlers—”
“And she’s bitter about the colonization, I assume?”
Celine shrugged. “Maybe it’s a stretch.”
“It’s something, and that’s more than we have now. I imagine she’s long gone— What?” He stopped himself mid-sentence as if he sensed Celine had something to interject. Maybe it was written on her face.
“Do you think you could find the control room? Take me there?” Celine chewed on her lip some more, still not sure it was the right thing. Maybe if they went after her right away they could catch her. Get her to reverse the damage she’d done.
But Scorpia was thousands of years old, this was her home planet — more her home than anyone else’s. If she wanted to stay hidden, she would and there would be no hope of Celine, Ben, or anyone else ever finding her.
“I… Maybe,” Ben threw his hands up into the air. “It’s been lost in the palace for who knows how long… Unless…”
It seemed hopeless, but then he stroked that sturdy chin of his, lost deep in thought and Celine felt her pulse quicken.
Don’t fool yourself. He’s only trying to save the city.
“Bora might be able to sniff it out. Assuming she can isolate the non-human scent trail.”
Celine’s heart skipped and stuttered. “Worth a shot?”
Ben nodded, curt and formal and started a near-sprint off down one corridor, his long legs carrying him quickly.
“Ben?” she called after him, her legs heavy as she followed. He stopped and turned, hearing the plea in her voice.
Face-to-face with him again, she lost her nerve. Celine expelled a great sigh. “I’m really truly sorry. I didn’t have any idea… My motives were selfish. I just wanted to…” She failed to utter the right words. She didn’t know what she wanted to do. Escape? Get back at her father? See Ben again? The Celine that made the bargain with Scorpia seemed to be a different person entirely. Trying to explain herself in any way she could, she waved her hands skyward towards the heavens.
His face revealed nothing of his feelings and Celine felt even more deflated. “I know what it’s like to want something else. I can’t fault you for that. As for the rest of it… Now isn’t the time to address it. We have a city of five million to save from a savage incursion of dust.”
Celine’s chest constricted and finally the shame and guilt loosened its grip on her. He was right of course. T
hey had bigger things to worry about. More important things than her feeling sorry for herself.
She straightened her spine, lifted her chin and nodded. “Well, let’s get to saving then.”
In a move that made her stomach somersault, Ben quirked one corner of his mouth upwards, lifted two spread fingers to his lips, and whistled, long, piercing, and loud. Celine’s hands flew to her ears.
The whistle ended and they waited in silence. And waited. Just as Celine was about to open her mouth to suggest he whistle again, or they go looking, the sound of claws on mirror-polished floors came clacking toward them.
Bora nearly toppled Ben in her excitement, and clinging desperately to the dog’s violet fur was Rufus. He dropped to the ground with a shudder and a curse, but Celine could tell he’d grown a little fond of Bora.
Ben bent down, getting to eye level with his dog and whispered something to her that Celine couldn’t hear over Rufus regaling the horrors he’d endured in the ‘beast’s company. He said a sharp command in a language Celine didn’t recognize and Bora gave a hearty bark and bounded back the way she’d come.
They followed her through twists and turns until the corridors started to look familiar. Before she knew how they’d done it, they were back at the tapestry and Bora was barking at the large starscape.
Ben pulled back the corner and Celine suppressed a little shiver. They’d done this very thing only hours ago, but it felt like worlds ago. Before she’d seen the stars, before she kissed Ben…
She shook her head, trying to stay focused.
“So you think you’ll be able to operate the control panel?” he asked after another series of dizzying turns.
Celine suppressed a shudder, hoping he didn’t see it. What if she couldn’t? What if this was all for nothing and they’d made the wrong choice by not chasing after Scorpia?
“Celine can fix anything,” Rufus said, pride oozing in his tone.
She patted him lightly and the little bot nuzzled into the crook of her neck. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy.”
“I hope so,” she finally muttered, making no real effort to project over Bora’s exuberant barking.
Ben shot a look over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised in an Are you ready for this? look. Celine just shrugged. No time like the present.
When they caught up to Bora, she was on her hind legs, both front paws on the wall in front of her, sniffing non-stop, her tail whipping back and forth fast enough to do serious damage to anyone nearby.
Ben paused at the doorway, long-forgotten but recently opened, still slightly ajar. Bora’s attention stayed on the access panel that looked like it had been dismantled, the screen hanging on by a few wires, electronic guts and circuitry on full display.
He patted the dog on the head. “Good girl, Bora.” And she gave one last loud woof before returning to all fours.
Ben tried to pry the door open while Celine examined the access panel. The computing parts still seemed to be in working order, it was just the display that was unusable. After a minute of fiddling with it, she turned to the Prince. “Do you have an access code?”
At the same time, Ben, with Rufus’s assistance, managed to push the door open wide enough for Celine to slip through.
“Yep,” he said, curling his arm to flex his bicep. Celine couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her mouth.
Inside the control room, there was an entire wall of blinking lights, all flashing warning red. Underneath the lights, at waist height, there was a small screen surrounded by enough levers, switches, and buttons to make anyone’s head spin.
Celine ignored them all and went straight for the screen. It was completely blank and dormant until she touched it. Strange glyphs and characters streamed across the screen too quickly for her to focus on any one of them long enough to decipher it.
She moved to take the panel off, to examine the circuitry inside, when she realized she didn’t have the tools for the job.
Ben was already a step ahead of her. He searched the room, finding a narrow closet with a few basic tools that looked like they hadn’t been touched in centuries.
Celine set to work, feeling the pressure of Ben’s eyes on her, the urgency of saving the city clenched at her heart and her fingers kept fumbling with the tools. She cursed and muttered at her clumsy fleshy fingers, never so frustrated and helpless in all her life.
“Is everything okay?” Ben ventured, a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Flyaway wisps of hair stuck to the perspiration on her forehead and Celine swiped the back of her hand across it, nodding. “I just need a little time,” she said, her stomach tying itself in knots. The tool slipped from her fingers again and they refused to obey her when she tried to pick it back up.
Her hand was mutinous, but she didn’t want Ben to see it. She could figure this out. She had to figure this out.
“We don’t have a lot of it. Is there something I can do to help?”
Her breaths grew short and shallow, her pulse beating against her eardrums, her insides inverted. Somehow her stomach was in her throat and her heart was through the floor, but she couldn’t pay attention to any of that or even the icy cold dread that poured through her veins.
Keep a brave face, she told herself.
She looked back at Ben and saw all the fear and concern she felt written on his face.
“You’re worried about your father, aren’t you?” she asked, taking a wild stab in the dark. As much as she wanted to be angry at her father, she still worried about him and the other modders being discovered and condemned.
Celine was willing to bet that Ben felt the same about his father, even if their relationship was strained.
He nodded once, curt and to the point. “I shouldn’t be, the King will be the first person whisked to safety until this can be sorted out, but…”
“He’s still your father,” Celine said.
“We have our differences, too many to count, but… Yes.”
“Go look for him. Once the force field is back online we’re going to have to give him the all-clear anyway.” She tried to infuse her voice with some optimism, like the all-clear would be coming any moment now.
She spotted the light in his eyes, the momentary relief at the thought of finding his father safe and secure, but it was quickly occluded by hesitation.
“Are you sure? You don’t need any help from me?”
Celine offered the most confident smile she could muster at the moment and shook her head, her ponytail swishing over the tops of her shoulders. “I can fix anything, remember?” Saying it out loud made her intestines plummet, but she held her expression, giving nothing away. She hoped.
Ben took two long strides toward the door, stopped, looked back at her with some unspoken word on the tip of his tongue. He shook his head, lunged for her, and planted a fierce kiss on her lips.
“Thank you. When this is all done, I’m going to take you to all the wonders this galaxy has to offer.” He took her hand in his and pressed something hard and cold into her palm. When he released her, she saw his coin in her palm.
Her chest squeezed, her lips still tingling.
When this is all done…
“For good luck,” he said.
She nodded mutely and watched his retreating form with an aching pit of longing deep deep inside. She may never see him again.
Once she was sure the Prince was gone, Celine grabbed Rufus and followed out the door.
“Where are you going?” the little android asked. “The controls are back there.”
“I know. But I can’t fix it,” she said, giving him a weighty look. Rufus let out a tiny squeak of surprise.
“That’s not possible! You can fix anything, you never fail,” he protested.
Celine shook her head, her thoughts turning grimmer by the moment. “No. My arm never fails. I have to get it back.”
Rufus let out a high-pitched squeal. “Your arm? How? You can’t get it back; you gave it to that… that…” He tre
mbled, not able to finish his sentence. “Are you crazy? She could kill you! She’s already trying to kill everyone. How are you going—” The little bot was clearly worried about her decision making, but Celine shrugged, cutting his tirade off before it went too far.
“I don’t know, but I have to, don’t I? I got everyone into this mess and I can’t fix the force field without my arm.”
“So don’t!” Rufus said, trying to bury himself in her shoulder, but failing without her usual garment. “Go back to the tunnels where you belong.”
Celine frowned, her brow wrinkling in thought.
“What makes you think the tunnels are any safer?” The moment she said the words, her pulse rocketed.
“She wants the planet back to herself… Easy enough to get rid of the city-dwellers by disarming the force field, but…”
Rufus shuddered, seeming to connect the same dots. “Modders don’t mind dust.”
Celine shook her head. “No, because we have the tunnels.” Slimy cold dread slid under her skin and her throat tightened at the memory of Scorpia saying how generous and benevolent she was for allowing them to use her tunnels.
Her new arm prickled and burned and Celine wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. It was a reminder of the stupid foolish choices she made that got them all in this situation. The choices she never should have made. The arm felt like a parasite, clinging onto her and ruining their hopes of survival. She needed to get rid of it and she needed to get her other arm back. Fast.
“We have to warn them,” she said, newfound resolution ringing in every word.
“But what if she’s there?” Rufus squeaked. “What if she’s already collapsed the tunnels?” Celine patted him, trying to reassure the scaredy bot. He raised very valid points, of course, but she didn’t have a rebuttal for any of them. Just hope and a prayer.
“We have to try,” she said, doing her best to navigate through the labyrinthine passages of the palace.
Rufus burrowed in deeper into her shoulder, making soft whining noises. She had half a mind to leave him behind, but that never actually worked.
