by Gwynn White
Ven crossed his arms and shot back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Renee shrugged. “Normally, when you lose a crewmember, you request a replacement immediately. Olivia Hawthorne has been gone for almost thirty-six hours, yet you haven’t filled her position?”
“I’ve been busy,” Ven lied. He really was a bad liar.
But Renee nodded anyway. “Yes. Quite busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Renee,” Ven warned.
“Vengeance,” she warned back. “We both know Liv didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Right,” he scoffed. “Just like Jillian never meant to hurt me, but it’s not her fault I’m not human. Is this some sisterhood thing between women or just the natural human proclivity to recite bullshit?”
“That,” Renee replied, her voice hard and sharply edged, “is uncalled for. Don’t take your pain out on me. You know I never condoned Jillian’s affair.”
Ven swallowed, realizing too late how cruel he’d been to his best friend, and lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Renee. You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Of course I do. And even the almighty Vengeance makes mistakes.”
Ven tried to smile for her sake but failed. He’d vowed never to allow himself to become attached to anyone again, and aside from Renee, he’d succeeded for the past three centuries. Or thought he had. But from the moment Liv had stepped onboard, he’d been drawn to her, finding reason after reason to drag her out of the privacy of her room, just because he wanted to see her again.
The past few months definitely hadn’t been filled with his prouder moments. And now he knew why, if Liv were actually one of the Nuallan telepaths. On some level he’d known and responded to her.
He was speculating, of course, but it wasn’t hard to piece it all together. Now he just wondered how much Renee knew or suspected.
“That pirate is a telepath,” Ven said then watch Renee for any reaction. “Did you know?”
“I had my suspicions,” Renee admitted. “But since I didn’t talk to her myself, I didn’t have a chance to confirm anything.”
Renee moved a pawn even though he’d never agreed to play, so he shoved the entire chessboard aside and leaned his elbows on the table. “Did you suspect Liv was also a telepath?”
Renee pushed some of her gray hair behind an ear and took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t my place,” Renee said with a heavy sigh.
“Wasn’t your place? They’re telepaths and they have a duty to the Spire Empire. And all members of the Empire owe those young telepaths respect and protection. How could you not tell me?”
Renee leaned back in her chair and rolled her fingertips on the table, both aggravated and sympathetic, but why she’d be aggravated eluded him. “You assume all girls bred for the Spire appreciate their existence?”
“I assume it’s a better alternative than imprisonment or death. The universe is a dangerous place,” he answered. “The Spire Empire requires both its telepaths and its AIs to serve without question for the survival of all. Personal desire must come second.”
“I realize that. And most girls are raised with a healthy understanding of their importance to us all. But as I’ve tried telling you before, some people have complex pasts.”
“You’re being cryptic again,” Ven muttered.
“If Liv and Harper are Nuallan telepaths, imagine for a moment how they left that planet and what they endured afterward,” Renee responded.
As usual, Renee was right. If any of those girls had escaped the planet, they’d done so in a rogue ship. And since the Spire thought they were dead, no one would have ever looked for them.
He could only imagine the horror they must have suffered at the hands of the rogues. No wonder the survivors were in hiding, too afraid to reveal themselves for fear of being forced to become a link for another AI. And yet Liv had returned to the Spire. Had she intentionally sought him out, or was he just the first ship to take her on?
He did have a way to discover who Liv and Harper really were—or weren’t. All he had to do was access the Spire’s archive node in orbit around the home world, absorb his lost memories, and then he’d have his answers.
But what if he were wrong? Did he want those memories back?
No. He didn’t think he did.
But even if Liv wasn’t his intended link, she was a telepath and deserved his protection.
If Vengeance couldn’t give Liv anything else, he’d give her a safe place to heal and whatever comfort she could glean from his friendship. In time, if she were willing to offer more, he’d explore that, slowly, so neither of them suffered again.
Somewhat ruefully, he realized he owed Harper that same consideration and protection. Maybe if she hadn’t tried to inflict maximum damage to his hangar bay, or more importantly, stolen Liv from him, he might be feeling more generous toward Harper. Sighing, he begrudgingly admitted he’d help Harper, too, if she’d let him.
But his first priority was to his crewmember. It was important that Liv learn to trust him, and he didn’t think she could do that if he approached their relationship as AI and potential link. So for Liv’s sake, he’d turn a blind eye to her probable origins, not mention her telepathy slip when she’d warned his drone during the battle in the hangar bay, and simply offer to be a friend.
“Ven,” Renee offered, drawing him back to the conversation as she reached across the table and took his hand, “We’re pursuing the fugitives. And when we find them, we’ll get the answers you need.”
Ven stared at their hands on the table and flinched at hearing Liv labeled a fugitive. But now that she’d helped the pirate escape, that was exactly what she’d be if he let the truth slip during his next hive-mind sync. Some truths were better hidden.
For now, he’d continue his hunt, find Liv, and bring her back where she would be safe from the rest of the universe. Even if she wanted nothing to do with him, he’d make sure she was safe. It was the least he could do for any of those girls. He’d failed them all—not just the one who would have been his link.
The stolen vessel landed on the relatively barren planet in a sickening collision with a canyon wall. Although the hull had almost certainly sustained significant damage, Liv maintained hope the engines would be operable, but it didn’t look like this planet would offer them the materials they’d need for repairs.
Liv removed her safety harness and pointed toward one of the screens on the dashboard. “How bad is it?”
“Can’t tell,” Amelia answered. “And the navigation system was damaged during our escape from Vengeance, so I have no idea where we are. But our choices were to land here or get sucked into this sun’s gravitational pull, and needless to say, that wouldn’t have ended well for us.”
“Amelia—”
“I go by Harper now. And you’re the one who’s been pretending to be some expert engineer, so grab your gear and let’s see if we can’t get this ship running again.”
Liv rolled her eyes, but grabbed her bag and followed Harper off the deck. “I’m pretending to be Olivia Hawthorne, but I do know my job. And I’m quite good at it.”
Harper glanced at her and shrugged. “You’ve always been smart and a fast learner. Doesn’t change the fact you broke our pledge.”
“Harper,” Liv pleaded, “when we escaped Basilisk and the others, we made that promise because we were traumatized. And I haven’t used my telepathy nor did I reveal I was bred to be a link.”
Harper suddenly turned on her, forcing Liv to stumble backward. “We made that pledge because no AI can be trusted. They all want us as their slaves! Even your Vengeance is trying to guilt Renee into working for him longer. He’s refusing to let her go.”
“He isn’t forcing her to do anything,” Liv argued. “Renee started aging when I was a child, and he hasn’t slowed or reversed that process. She wants to grow old and die, and he’s letting her.”
“You wou
ld defend him,” Harper hissed. “It’s like you forgot what they did to us.”
“Of course I remember,” Liv snapped. “Not all of us survived. And those who did suffered a different sort of death.”
Harper spun around again and grabbed a suit from the wall then shoved it toward Liv. “So imagine my surprise when I discover the girl who helped to free us voluntarily returned to her former AI.”
Liv clutched the suit in her hands and exclaimed, “He doesn’t even know who I am! And I’m never going to tell him.”
“Right,” Harper scoffed. “And I’m sure Renee hasn’t figured it out.”
Liv’s face warmed, and she pulled the environmental suit over her clothes then secured her helmet in place. She suspected Renee knew, but for some reason, she hadn’t told Ven. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she mumbled. “Didn’t I just prove my loyalty will always be to you and our sisters? I can never go back to my life aboard Vengeance now.”
Harper tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and pulled the environmental suit on. “You should have destroyed him. They should all be destroyed.” She hit the control panel to open the door and jumped onto the rocky terrain of the nameless planet, but Liv was too stunned to move. Destroy Vengeance?
She’d rather die. She’d rather fall into the hands of Basilisk again and suffer his invasion into her mind.
And she’d defend Vengeance against anyone… even her best friend.
“Move it, Journeyman Engineer,” Harper called. “We have a three-foot gash in the hull’s underbelly, thanks to one of Vengeance’s sentinels. We’re lucky the shields protected us during reentry.”
Liv stood at the edge of the ship, staring down at her friend, and put her hands on her hips. “You’re only a captain because I helped kill Agrona, so stop pretending you outrank me.”
“And you’re only a journeyman engineer because you created a fake identity for yourself, so stop pretending you outrank me,” Harper retorted.
Liv kicked her tools onto the ground. “Fair enough.”
Harper pointed to the gash in the underside of the ship and asked, “You can fix this, right?”
Liv ducked around one of the landing struts then under the ship to look at the damage. A nasty hull breach stared back at her. She could patch it with some of the spare panels, but the power conduits underneath and the bio-circuitry with its protective gel were a mangled mess.
“If we were on a populated planet with a spaceport and supplies, yeah. But, Harper, I don’t have anything to work with here.”
“We’ll die from dehydration then,” Harper sighed. “If I call for help, we’ll have the Spire on us immediately… long before any of my friends can reach us. And we’d just pull them into the Spire’s path anyway.”
Liv nodded and leaned against the side of the ship. “I planned that jailbreak hoping to save your life, and instead, we’re both going to die.”
Harper offered her a crooked smile and shrugged. “Yeah, but it was a fun jailbreak.”
“Well, if you’re going to escape one of the most powerful warships in the Spire, you might as well do it with flair, right?” Liv joked.
Harper nodded seriously and leaned against the ship next to her. “Where do you think we are? If we’d been able to keep going… Liv, did you know we were heading toward Nualla?”
Liv flinched as she studied the brown rock wall of the canyon in front of them. Even hearing the name of the planet where they’d been born pained her. It had been a paradise, a safe space for them to grow, a place where they’d been loved. “They pulled everyone from the planet, you know,” she finally said. “No one lives there anymore.”
“It’s a shame,” Harper agreed. “It’s the most beautiful planet I’ve found in this universe. Where’s the new Telepath Breeding Program?”
Liv shook her head slowly and picked up her tool bag, not because she needed them but because she needed something to do. “The Spire is keeping it secret. No one knows, not even the Spire warships who will eventually need new links. They won’t risk another attack.”
“That’s stupid,” Harper muttered. “How can the warships form bonds with links if they’re not allowed to get to know them?”
Liv arched an eyebrow at her and retorted, “Since when do you care about the warships?”
“I don’t,” Harper corrected. “I care about those girls. And it sounds like some warship they don’t even know will just be forced onto them. After what happened to us, how can that not bother you?”
“Harper, it…” Liv trailed off as light from this solar system’s star reflected off something approaching them, something large enough to be visible while it was still in orbit. The massive object was soon silhouetted against the sun.
Harper stood up straighter and gasped. “A warship. Liv, hide!”
“Where?” Liv exclaimed. “There’s nowhere to hide, and the AI most likely pinpointed our ship already.”
Harper pulled on Liv’s arm, urging her away from the ship they’d stolen. “We’re in a canyon. There has to be a cave around.”
“Oh, brilliant idea… let’s trap ourselves inside a hole with no possible escape route,” Liv snapped.
The warship kept getting closer, its engines rumbling louder in the sky. It wouldn’t be long before it was close enough to strafe them if they didn’t get away from the stolen vessel.
“Liv, we have to get out of this canyon,” Harper insisted. “We don’t have time to strategize here. As soon as we’re in range, they’ll open fire, and we will die!”
She tugged on Liv’s arm again. Above them, the rhythmic purring of the warship’s engines grew into a roar, so Liv didn’t argue anymore. They were out of options. And they were out of time.
From his orbit in space, Vengeance prepared to launch three transports with a full complement of sentinels in each ship. As soon as he’d tracked the stolen ship to this planet and scanned to confirm his targets were here, he’d broadcast the new intel to the rest of the Spire hive-mind.
He hadn’t had a choice. The other AIs would have sensed a lie of this magnitude the next time he synced with the hive-mind. So he’d reported the incident to the Spire, leaving out Liv’s involvement, but outing Harper as a telepath and telling his superiors that he attempted to prevent the pirate’s escape but hadn’t wanted to risk killing his crewmember. That was at least partly true. He had believed Liv was Harper’s prisoner until they’d reached the hangar and used telepathy to escape. The Spire Triumvirate had immediately assumed his failure was due to the repairs and upgrades he’d been putting off for years, and they were insisting he return to Teutorigos to receive them.
This region’s Spire Queen had confirmed his orders—capture the rogue telepath alive and rescue his kidnapped crewmember. For now, Olivia Hawthorne’s secret was safe.
The AI Spire Queens had tacked an addendum to their command: Under no circumstances was he to allow the rogue telepath to escape him a second time. If he had to kill her to stop her, they wanted her body preserved and shipped to them as soon as possible to evaluate this new threat to Spire security. Apparently, the Spire Triumvirate was just as disturbed as he’d been about the possibility of telepaths operating on their own.
The entire experience was humiliating. He’d been outmaneuvered, and now he was being treated like a relic. That humiliation warred with other emotions though. The anger and betrayal were still there, but they were losing ground to another dominant emotion sparking though his primary core: excitement. Liv was on the planet below.
Surveying the barren planet, he merged the new data with the information already on the bridge’s energy webs. The downed transport ship’s location appeared, along with his three transports leaving alpha hangar bay. The visual aid was entirely for the benefit of his senior officers.
“ETA of the transports to the site of the stolen transport’s location,” Captain Welner demanded.
Ven’s drone actually rolled his eyes at the captain. Was the human blind? The information w
as right there on the screen. He answered the captain’s requests with direct, uninflected sentences. Nothing in the days since the drill had gone as he’d planned. He’d just had one of his rare arguments with Renee, who had been angry that he was sending down so many sentinels with the plan to capture Liv. He’d also made it clear he’d kill the pirate if he must.
Renee had launched into a tirade, and for the first time in over two hundred years, he’d severed their link. While she was momentarily speechless, his drone had stormed off to the bridge.
If the crew found it strange that his drone was there without his link, none of them were foolish enough to bring it up. They could obviously tell he was in a bad mood.
Ven’s drone folded his arms across his chest and scowled at the energy webs, ignoring everyone on the bridge as he attempted to will the mission to be over. He was doing a fine job, too, until something triggered a warning alarm on deck thirty-seven. His consciousness homed in on the alarm, even though he already knew what it was. There was only one thing stored on deck thirty-seven.
A life-pod had just been launched, and like all life-pods, it was designed so an AI couldn’t override its controls.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Vengeance muttered. He rubbed his forehead, wondering if, for the first time in his long life, he were truly developing a headache.
“Captain Welner,” he sighed. “I must inform you that I’ve lost another crewmember. Primary Link Renee has just used one of the life-pods to enter the planet’s atmosphere. I assume she’s attempting to reach the rogue telepath before my sentinels do.”
Before the captain or crew could respond, he spun around and marched from the bridge, prepping another transport for launch.
15
Footsteps echoed against stone outside the cave where she and Harper were hiding. They sounded light against the pebbles and dirt, and the two women backed farther away from the opening, hoping they’d be able to lose their pursuer in the darkness. It was foolish. They were stranded on a barren planet with nowhere to go, but neither woman was ready to die.
