by Gwynn White
Amai studied her for a long moment. “The Daughter isn’t going to like this. I should hit you over the head right now and drag you out.”
“Except you know I’d never help you that way. It’s got to be on my terms.”
“So it seems.” Amai gave a heavy sigh. “But I’m keeping my team on call. If you fail, the ships goes up, and you with it.”
“I won’t fail. I swear it.” She paused. “And tell my father I’ll see him soon.”
22
Ember woke to pounding on the wall outside her door. “Get up, gypsy,” her guard called out. “You’ve been ordered to Commander Kane’s office.”
Before she knew what had happened, she was outside the commander’s office door, bleary-eyed and confused. The guard ushered her in and closed the door behind her.
Kane didn’t look tired at all. In fact, he looked almost giddy. His hair was gelled flat to his head, his uniform even more pristine than usual. He paced the floor with an uncharacteristic nervousness.
“There you are,” he snapped. “Get into position.”
“Sir?”
“By the window.”
She made her way over and gasped. A small convoy of ships sat outside. No, a cluster of smaller Empire patrollers with a single passenger transport between them. They’d captured a ship during the night. It looked like a typical Empire shuttle, the type Ember had seen transporting tourists on Earth. It had no other distinguishing features.
She pressed her hands against the glass, immediately scanning the ship. Two passengers—a young couple.
Amai’s words from last night came back. I have sixteen people working with me, plus the escape pilots. I had to pay that couple a ridiculous amount of money to take the risk.
With a sick feeling, Ember plunged into the woman’s light. Then she pulled out, stunned.
It was them. These were the people charged with helping her escape.
They’d come to get her as planned, but she hadn’t shown up. The couple had waited too long and gotten caught as she’d snoozed away in her bed. Amai hadn’t been able to stop it. Or maybe she just hadn’t bothered to try.
Now they sat in the cockpit, quietly discussing their options, hiding the terror they felt inside.
This was her fault.
She turned to the commander, trying desperately to smooth her face. “You need me to read them, sir?”
“My flicker team has already retrieved any intelligence of worth. The emperor is ready for his demonstration, gypsy girl. He wants to see what our proud flare is capable of. I trust Talon’s training is now sufficient to the task.”
Stars. The commander had chosen tonight for his demonstration, of all nights. He was going to make her kill the couple who had been hired to save her. Her stomach twisted so sharply she wondered if she could keep her dinner down. She took a step backward and ran into the window, the cold penetrating her back.
Something beeped on the commander’s desk screen, and he suddenly looked nervous. “Stay against the window. You are not worthy to see his face.” Then he hit the button and bowed, his voice sickeningly sweet. “Your Eminence. What a pleasure this is. How wonderful to see you looking so well.”
“And you, Commander,” a frail voice said. The emperor himself. Ember longed to look over Kane’s shoulder and catch a glimpse of the man who ruled the universe. His voice sounded surprisingly human, with an edge of pain. Much like her father did on his bad days. “Is my flare ready for action?”
“She is, High One. My men are hacking into the intruder ship’s security feed now.”
The window behind Ember buzzed and cackled with static electricity. She stumbled away to find its surface had changed. The glass shimmered, then changed to show a man and woman sitting in the cockpit of a cramped ship. They even were younger than Ember had realized, perhaps in their early twenties.
“The signal should reach you in a few seconds, Your Eminence.”
“I see them. Proceed.”
Kane turned to Ember, his voice strangely tight. “Take them out, flare. The woman first.”
The man reached for his wife and pulled her closer to him. She was trembling as she stared out the window at the massive Empire carrier looming above them. Did she know? They couldn’t hear or see the Empire ship’s deliberations, but they must have had a sense of what was about to happen.
Ember bit her lip to keep herself from crying out. She couldn’t do this. Not when that couple was here for her. It should have been her on the other side of that screen. She was the one who deserved to die.
Kane tapped the trigger, sending a zap down Ember’s spine. She gasped but managed to remain on her feet. Before she had time to think about it, she reached easily into the woman’s soul, feeling the warmth of the light within. The woman on the screen flinched as if she felt Ember’s touch. Maybe she did.
“Remember my warning,” Kane murmured. “My soldiers await instructions on Earth. I’ll have them start with the young ones. That girl from last time, perhaps.”
Ember shuffled through the woman’s memories before she could stop herself. Lillya, orphaned by a bloody Empire battle on Carene Two. She’d married her best friend and joined the Union just months before. The money from this job was supposed to buy them a new home.
Kane stepped closer, his mouth tight. She knew what his next words would be.
It was simple for everyone else. Two enemy soldiers, complete strangers, versus a child Ember had watched grow up from infancy. Anyone in their right mind would choose the child. But they didn’t understand that Ember could see so much more than that. She became those she touched. For one brief moment there was no separation. And when she pulled out, she came out just a little bit changed. The person she had just read was no longer a stranger.
Although, Talon had said her resistance wasn’t saving anyone, that Kane would just kill his victims another way. Surely that was true in this case as well. If Ember failed to murder them, the fighters would just fire on the ship. Either way the couple wouldn’t make it out alive. She knew it was true.
Why had the stars given her this curse? Why couldn’t she live her life innocently, not holding any lives in her hands but her own?
Kane motioned to the soldier at the door. “Tell Captain Wymore on Earth to initiate.”
“No,” Ember said quickly. Her throat was so tight she could barely say the words. “I’ll do it.”
Ember forced her eyes to stay open as she grasped the woman’s light. Ember would watch this. She owed the poor woman that much.
The couple stared into the camera, stiff and waiting, as if sensing what was about to happen.
Stars, I’m sorry.
With a massive sob, she closed her hand around the light.
And yanked.
The woman jerked and went limp, then hit the floor. Her husband released a wrenching cry and reached for her.
Ember’s gaze dropped to the ground, and she folded her arms protectively around herself. Her connection had ended. She tentatively reached out to the man, but she didn’t have to get close to feel his pain. His light pulsed brighter, hotter, angrier than any light she’d ever seen. It singed Ember even from a distance. She looked up to see his eyes boring into the screen, his expression twisted in agony and rage.
“The Daughter will rise again,” he shouted through his sobs. “She will have her vengeance. Death to you all!”
She stared at the man in wonder. What strength he must have had to have everything taken from him and still confront his enemy. It was beautiful. Something stirred deep inside her, something she hadn’t realized was there.
Ember lifted her hands, examining them. What had she become?
She had just killed someone. Murdered an innocent woman who meant her no harm. She had spent the past few years resisting Talpa’s efforts to control her. She’d balked at the marriage offers she received and struggled to keep what little freedom she had. But today Ember had let Kane control her. He hadn’t forced her into becoming hi
s weapon—she had stepped into the role herself.
The same commander who had controlled her father for so long.
Kane lifted a stunner to Ember’s head. His face was purple. “Take him now, or you and your filthy people die this instant.”
She drew herself up to face him. “Then kill me. But I won’t do this.”
Ember expected him to kill her, almost hoped he would. But instead he slammed his fist onto the trigger in his other hand. The pain exploded into her consciousness, a bonfire burning her from the inside. It was ten times worse than before. A hundred times worse. Someone was screaming. She reached for the blackness but couldn’t find it. There was only the pain.
“Kill that man and you’ll have your relief.” The voice seemed strangely disconnected.
She reached for the husband’s light and found it again, still hot and angry. This time she let her hand hover. Talon’s warning circled through her mind on repeat. The man would die anyway. She could save her people. So much pain.
Instead of pulling on the light, she slammed her fist into it.
The pain stopped.
She slid her eyes open in time to see the man collapse onto the control panel and go still.
Ember lay on the ground, shaking violently. No. That wasn’t supposed to kill him.
“I’m pleased.” The emperor’s voice was still tinged with pain, but his pleasure seemed genuine. Ember wondered if Kane had muted the battle that had just taken place inside his office. “This is a welcome development. And you say the gypsy girl was homage from Earth?”
“Yes, Your Eminence.”
“It would be nice to have more than one flare at our disposal. You’ve investigated the family line?”
“Of course. None of her family have the gene.”
“Pity,” the emperor said, his voice suddenly weary. “Carry on, then. I want the girl’s abilities expanded to include more than one at a time. We won’t win any wars if it takes ten minutes to kill two people.”
Kane’s face reddened, but he nodded. “Yes, High One. And my breeding-program proposal? I believe it wise to initiate it while the girl is still young. I will donate my planet, Arcadia, to the cause.”
“No, no. Let’s see how far we can push her first. Once the enemy is overcome, we’ll discuss it again.” The emperor’s voice had faded to a whisper now. It seemed whatever strength he’d summoned for the conversation was gone. “You are dismissed.”
“Thank you, Your Eminence.”
The emperor must have clicked out, because Kane turned to Ember, who still lay on her back. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen that still displayed the man slumped over the ship’s controls. She had been so determined, yet Kane had broken her. He had won.
Kane approached like a cat ready to pounce. He stopped in front of her. “You embarrassed me in front of the emperor.”
The kick to her ribs came before she was ready for it, and she found herself doubled in a different kind of pain.
He glowered at her from above, his words slow and dangerous. “Do not hesitate like that ever again.” Then he strode back to the desk and began messing with the screen once more. “Should have sent her straight there,” he muttered to himself.
His words faded from Ember’s mind as she continued to stare at the dead man’s body on the screen. She reached out, wishing to feel his fire, to let his anger fuel her once again. Then she stifled a gasp. His light still glowed. It was faint, barely there.
Then the dead man’s hand twitched.
The screen went dark, and all she could see were the stars outside once again.
23
Ember spent the day in her quarters. After she’d missed the first class, her guard had come in and tried to persuade her to come out, but Ember had told him off. She’d fully expected him to call in a reinforcement, but for the next few hours she heard him talking in a low voice outside her door. She didn’t much care what they decided to do with her now.
After skipping breakfast and lunch, she barely noticed when a guard brought in a tray of dinner. A different guard this time, a woman. She shot Ember a pitiful look as she left.
Ember didn’t want her pity. She didn’t want their food, their fancy quarters. She just wanted to be home, caring for her father. She wanted to ask him the questions she’d never thought to ask. To the Roma he was an outsider. It didn’t matter where exactly he’d come from, just that he hadn’t been raised among them. Ember hadn’t ever considered asking where he was born, who his parents were, where he had spent his childhood. Even when she found that horrible article about his military service, she had shoved the questions away. They just confirmed the strangeness, the other-ness, of her father’s past life.
She’d give anything to go back now and ask him more. When had they discovered he was a flicker? Had he been raised on stations like Stefan? And the biggest question of all.
Was he a flare too?
She couldn’t ask him now, but perhaps there was another way to find out.
When the hallway went quiet, Ember stepped into the corridor, noting with satisfaction that her guard had finally stepped away. Then she headed for the lift.
The recreation deck was much smaller here than on the station. In fact, it took up only a portion of the eleventh deck, and there were far fewer people. The music was just as loud, though; perhaps louder with less conversation to compete with. Couples grated against each other in the colorful lights. Ember grimaced at the assault to her senses.
She scanned the room and found the info screens imbedded in the wall on the opposite end. Only one faced away from the dance floor, its booth occupied by a couple in a passionate make-out session. Ember rolled her eyes. She’d wait a few minutes, then confront them.
Ember caught sight of Eris at the bar, holding a delicate glass with some kind of frothy pink concoction. Eris spotted her at the same time. But instead of glaring at Ember as she usually did, Eris’s eyes flew open and she scrambled off her stool, spilling some of the drink onto her lap.
Then her companion turned around. Stefan eyed her for a moment, expressionless.
Ember realized some of the dancers had stopped and were now staring at her the same way. Some stumbled backward, giving her a wide berth, while others just glared.
She looked around, wondering if there was an officer behind her or something, but it seemed they were indeed staring at her. “What?” she snapped. Had word gotten out about this morning?
“Ember,” Stefan called in a stiff voice, still sitting at the bar. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Eris sent him a glowering look.
Half the room had noticed her now. Reeling, she found herself making her way toward the bar.
Stefan said something to the bartender, who promptly went to work filling a large round container, which began to emit thick white smoke. Then he slapped a cover on it and handed it to Stefan.
He passed it to Ember. “Here. You look like you need this.”
She eyed it curiously. The bowl had a bubbly red liquid and some kind of plastic dome over the top.
“What is this?” she asked, examining the strange creation.
“The dome keeps the heat in. Just pull the lid off when you’re ready.”
Eris was staring, bug-eyed, at the strange drink. “Is that a steel mill? You’re kidding me. She can’t handle that.”
“You’d be surprised.” Stefan was glaring at his hands now. He seemed so formal, so aloof. The people on the dance floor had resumed their grating again, but Ember could still feel dozens of eyes boring into her back. Something was definitely wrong.
“Well?” Eris asked. “You going to stare at it or drink it?”
What she really wanted to do was pour it over the girl’s head, but that seemed like a waste of perfectly good liquor. With a shrug, Ember snapped the dome off, releasing a plume of smoke, and brought the glass to her mouth. She heard some of the conversation around her die as she began to gulp it down.
Stefan had men
tioned heat, but it wasn’t figurative. An actual, physical heat surged down her throat and settled in her stomach, sending a shock wave through her bloodstream. She welcomed the pain, opening up to it.
“Check this out,” someone said behind her, and his date shushed him. Stefan watched her wordlessly. His expression was just enough to get her through as the last few drops went down. Then she decisively smacked the container against the clear counter.
A few people clapped, and Stefan’s lips tugged upward. Eris’s face registered shock, but she quickly turned back to her drink, feigning disinterest.
Ember glanced across the dance floor at the info screens. The couple was still there, hands roaming in improper places. If Talpa saw an unwed couple acting like that in public, they would be exiled on the spot. Or forced to marry. They probably wouldn’t even notice if she used the screen behind them.
“Just out and about, then, gypsy?” Eris asked. “You aren’t exactly a rec-deck girl. More like the hiding-in-the-shadows type.”
“Just heading to the info screens.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She coughed to clear her throat, suddenly wishing for a sip of water.
“I didn’t take you for a gamer, either. I thought gypsies made their money dancing and singing. Among other things.” Her gaze shifted to the couple across the room as well, and Ember caught the implication.
“Can I get you another drink, Ember?” Stefan cut in.
“No,” a woman said, placing a hand on Ember’s shoulder. “She’s had enough for tonight.”
Ember turned and blinked. Mar stood there, grinning.
She laughed at Ember’s expression. “Well? You said we were gaming, right? Let’s go.” She took Ember’s arm and pulled her toward the dance floor before Ember knew what was happening.
“You’re here,” Ember managed, her voice still a bit raspy.
“Well, you’re a bright one, aren’t you? Yep, I got here a few hours ago.” She shrugged and released Ember’s arm, still plowing through the dancing crowd. “I don’t really want to be here, but I am. Security analyst, flicker division, at your service.”
