Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

  25

  There we go,” Daisy says, sitting back from her handiwork. She wipes her hands with a proud smile on her face. “That ought to do it.”

  Before her, Orion looks down at his new hands and wiggles the toes of his feet. Daisy has spent the last two days putting the cyborg back together again with Taka’s help. Between the two of them, they fashioned something resembling a human, even if his hands are different sizes and colors and one leg is shorter than the other. It’s a far cry from where Orion had been.

  “Thank you,” he says softly. “I never would have thought that I would miss my limbs so much.”

  “That’s because you don’t like being dependent on anyone else,” I say crossing my arms. “But in this case, you needed it.”

  “Yeah, especially since he doesn’t like accepting any form of help,” PC mutters. “Androids are as stubborn as female captains.”

  I can’t hide my smile.

  It’s been a few days after we left Alpha. Three days of relaxing and trying to figure out what to do next, as there are too many details and questions ahead of us. But after everything that happened, we’re taking this time to regroup and gather strength. After all, we lost a month of our lives on that space station—the universe can afford for us to take a little bit longer of a break.

  I notice my timer near zero again, the important one that’s keeping me from infecting everyone on this ship. I offer up a brave smile and get to my feet. “Well,” I say, slapping my hands to my knees, “I’m going to go to bed.”

  PC blinks at me. “What?” he asks. “And miss out on poker?” Ever since we got onto this new ship—it’s called the Argo—he hasn’t approached me about explaining what Maas had told us before we docked. Both he and Orion had been very respectful in that case.

  I’ll have to tell them someday. But I don’t want to face those demons of mine yet.

  I shrug. “I’m just tired.” I give a lazy wave. “See you tomorrow.”

  I get to my feet and make my way to my room. The captain’s quarters are so unlike the quarters of the Pícara. It’s more luxurious, for one. And it’s much larger. I stand in the threshold, taking it all in. There’s a vertical garden on one wall, growing herbs and succulents. The light is brighter, too, and less blue. I never realized how depressing our rooms were until I compared them to this one.

  And this is our new ship. At least for now. Who knows how long we’ll have it—we’re fugitives.

  But I can’t help thinking that Louis would have loved it.

  I push aside the thought of the former captain. I’m still grieving for him. And I know that I will continue to do so for some time. But I can’t do it now. Not after everything I’ve done.

  You’re a monster.

  I’m not human. Not machine, or even cyborg. Monster.

  I walk over to the bed, running the fingers of my left hand over the walls, feeling the texture of it, how it’s so different than the cold, steel walls of my childhood home. I pull out the backpack of vials from its hiding place underneath the bed and check the timer.

  I cut it a little close this time.

  I take one out and a syringe and measure the right amount and stick it into the fleshy part of my left shoulder. It burns as I press the plunger, but I don’t have any bad side effects, at least not yet. It’s uncomfortable, but it’ll keep the Infinity Virus under control for now.

  Stay dormant, I silently tell the virus. There’s no answering call back, meaning that I’ve at least put enough of a leash on it to keep it quiet.

  I should probably keep a vial with me at all times. In case I’m away from my room and can’t get back in time. So many things to think about and to make sure that I don’t cause another outbreak. I’m dangerous. I know it.

  Funny how I don’t feel any different.

  There’s a buzz at the door. I stash the vials before calling out, “Come in.”

  The door slides open, and my breath catches in my throat. “Orion.”

  For once, he looks nervous. There’s an energy about him that I’ve never seen before. Like he’s unsure of himself, which is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen on the android before.

  But I put on a smile. “Glad to see you walking around again.”

  He scratches behind his head. “Yes. You do not realize how much you miss it until you do not have it.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “I have two items to talk to you about.”.

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “First.” He reaches behind his head, and, as he turns his head, I see a panel I’ve never noticed before in his hairline by his temple. Orion is full of surprises sometimes. He takes out a storage chip and holds it aloft. “This is a backup of all the systems of the Pícara. I downloaded them before we arrived on Alpha. In case we never saw the ship again.” He gives me a smile. “I have only now been able to access it since I have hands.”

  I blink a few times, trying to understand what he means. “You mean… You have everything from the Pícara there?”

  He nods. “Videos, travel logs, captain’s diaries, and certain idiosyncrasies.” He smiles about that last part, showing me that he knew the ship had a personality. “They are all here. I know how much the ship meant to you and Popcorn. So here it is.”

  I take it from him, and I can’t help my own grin that spreads across my face. “How was it having the Pícara in your systems?” I ask. “She never really did like me.”

  He gives a nonchalant shrug. “The Pícara was an old ship that had picked up many bad habits in its time. If I could preserve it, I wanted to do so.”

  I clutch it to my chest, feeling a sense of relief that I hadn’t lost everything with the metal ship. I can’t believe that I’m about to voluntarily bring that ship’s personality back on this perfectly fine ship. I think about the cold showers I’ll have in the future, the doors randomly closing on me, things not working…

  And I’m excited to have it back.

  “Thank you,’ I whisper. “Thank you so much.”

  “There is another thing,” Orion says, and his expression hardens. “I want you to erase an event from my memory banks.”

  My euphoria from knowing that the Pícara will be back fades. I look up at him, confused. Hurt. “What event?”

  “The kiss.”

  Oh. My mouth opens for a retort, I can’t do that. I can’t take the risk that I’ll accidentally erase something else or change his behavior based on that one exchange. No. No, I can’t do it. I don’t want to go back to before. I don’t want to remember the kiss while he doesn’t.

  “I’m so sorry that happened,” I say. “I was grieving, and—”

  “It…changed something in me, Clementine,” Orion says and my heart shudders to a halt. “When I thought you had been infected and were dying, I acted out my feeling for you, not for the good of the crew or the ship. I put myself at risk for one person rather than the entire team. And…” The hard lines of his face fade away and he looks unsure once again. “I cannot have that impacting my decisions.”

  “But…it happened,” I say. “And just because you want it erased, it doesn’t mean it goes away. I’ll still remember it.”

  He nods. “And I apologize for that. But I cannot have it impacting my performance. I cannot have it drive me in illogical ways.”

  Illogical. That’s what he thinks of this. My buried feelings for him. The way he thinks of me. He thinks it’s illogical. And it probably is.

  But we can’t just pretend that it didn’t happen. I don’t know if I can.

  “Please?” he asks. “I want to be the navigator I was programmed to be. And I think omitting that event will reset any inconsistencies.”

  And my resolve weakens. If that’s what he wants…

  I close my eyes. “Okay. Okay, fine. I’ll do it. If you trust me not to mess you up.” I hold my cyborg hand out and call my fingers to turn into the tools I need to access the memory banks in his brain. I’ll have to connect to him and sift
around through his memories in order to delete that instance.

  And hopefully not fuck it up.

  Relief spreads across his face. “I do trust you. Thank you, Clementine.”

  He takes a spot on the edge of my bed, his back to me, ready for the procedure. I can’t help but think that I’d been wanting him on my bed for different reasons.

  But that’s apparently not going to happen now.

  I hesitate for just a moment before I sweep aside his thick dark hair and access his core at the base of his neck. I hold back the shakes in my fingers as I work. Orion is eerily still as I work, and I use it to remind myself that he is not human.

  He is an android. And I must remember that.

  Even if his lips were the softest I’d ever kissed. Even if I’ll never taste him again. This will be the most intimate I’ll ever get with him—digging through his memories. I try to avoid any that feel too…personal to him. Which is ridiculous since he is a machine.

  But I don’t want to see anything I don’t like. So I keep searching.

  “Sometimes, I do reflect on if events had unfolded differently,” he says suddenly.

  I lick my lips. “How do you mean?”

  “If I had been a human instead of a machine. Maybe I would not be bound by protocol to put the crew and the ship above everything else.” He pauses. “Maybe it would have been all right to remember that kiss.”

  I grit my teeth as I find the singular event. “We’ll never know, will we?”

  And I delete the kiss from his memory. Forever.

  “Are you sure you want to bring the Pícara back?” PC asks. “I thought you had a supposed feud with the ship.”

  “It’s what Captain Louis would have wanted,” I answer.

  We all watch as Taka works on the central console of the ship’s bridge. Like everything else on this ship, it’s far fancier than the Pícara’s. There are more cameras across the ship, better navigational maps.

  And the view from the bridge is stunning. A complete 360-degree panorama of the galaxy as we sail through it—I feel like I can just extend my hand and capture a star.

  Daisy, PC, Orion, and Oliver sit in chairs that they’ve chosen, although there is enough here to sit twenty. Maybe we’ll fill them with more pirates coming up. Surely there are more people who want to overthrow the chokehold that these corporations have on the galaxy.

  Wherever we go from here, I’ll be glad to have my crew with me. We’ll figure this out. We’ll do it together.

  I try to maintain my composure around Orion, who looks at me like I’m a complete stranger. No, scratch that—he looks at me like he knows me, but it’s cold, distant. He’s not the android I kissed.

  And he won’t ever remember it.

  “All right, the chip is installed,” Taka says as he gets to his feet from his crouch. “A reboot and that should do it.” He wipes his hands.

  “A reboot, huh? And that should be it?”

  He nods. “If that is the full backup, it should assimilate with the current operating system and be able to control all the functions of the ship.”

  “Good job,” I say appreciatively. “Thank you.”

  I key in the code for the ship’s systems to restart. It won’t bring back Louis or Venice. And it won’t make this new ship the ship of my childhood.

  But maybe I can bring a piece of my past with me into the future.

  I initiate the restarting sequence.

  The entire bridge goes dark, and the backup lights flicker off, for just a moment. I hold my breath, wondering what we’re going to find when the ship is back online.

  Unlike the Pícara, it boots up in seconds.

  The lights turn on again and the air system picks up and starts humming again. I glance around and feel a wide grin spread across my face.

  “Did it work?” Daisy asks.

  I look down at the console and there’s a message there. It’s not much, and it doesn’t say that I’ll be battling the ship every morning.

  But what I see is encouraging.

  Welcome to the Pícara II, the screen says. I enlarge it on the window screen so that everyone else can see.

  “I think it did.” My grin widens. “Everyone, welcome to the Pícara II.”

  I’m almost ready to cry, and I can see Daisy sniffling as she looks at it. Even PC looks emotional as he does so. We have our ship back, sort of.

  “Where to first, Captain?” Taka says, glancing back at me.

  “Well,” I say, slowly, looking at each member of the crew, memorizing their faces in this moment. I avert my eyes a little quickly from Orion. It’s going to take some effort to hide my feelings for him. “We have a lot to do if we want to make some changes. Not to mention that Syn-Tech and possible the Feds are probably looking for us. But,” I look directly at Oliver, “we need to make a pitstop and pick up a robot pup for you.”

  His eyes widen as Daisy’s stern face breaks into a wide grin.

  “Really?” the boy asks, his voice quiet.

  I nod. “Absolutely. This ship needs to have a puppy running around pissing oil in all the corners.”

  I feel a groan throughout the ship in response, like the Pícara II is dreading the thought of that. She’s back. And I can see it reflected on everyone’s face.

  My crew. My family.

  And we’re going to make our futures better for everyone.

  To be continued in Book Two of The Rogue’s Galaxy:

  Touching Humanity

  About the Author

  Sci-fi junkie, video game nerd, and wannabe manga artist Erin Hayes writes a lot of things. Sometimes she writes books.

  She works as an advertising copywriter by day, and she's an award-winning New York Times Bestselling Author by night. She has lived in New Zealand, Hawaii, Texas, Alabama, and now San Francisco with her husband, cat, and a growing collection of geek paraphernalia.

  You can reach her at erinhayesbooks@gmail.com and she’ll be happy to chat. Especially if you want to debate Star Wars.

  Visit her website at: erinhayesbooks.com

  Keep up to date with all the latest, including the next book in The Rogue’s Galaxy, by signing up for her newsletter here.

  Death Plague

  K.J. Colt

  When the Death Plague sweeps across the kingdom of Senya annihilating its populace, the king enslaves the only beings who can save them: healers.

  Lead by the crafty, ruthless High Priestess Toxiv, the healers fight back. But the king will do anything to hold onto his power, even destroying the kingdom and his own beloved family.

  1

  Quxa

  91 years prior to the Death Plague.

  By candlelight, deep underneath the main temple in Senya, Lightend Sanctuary, Healer Quxa unrolled sacred parchment revealing the story of Meldrassa: the first of the healers and the only recorded healer to have born a child. Tomorrow—the first day of November—marked the Feast of Meldrassa, where healers across the lands of Senya would close their temples and travel to Lightend Sanctuary.

  The feast came once a year, in spring, allowing devoted followers of the Sun God to mingle with the common folk amongst the beautiful sanctuary grounds. Quxa yearned to see strapping farm boys or metal workers from the nearby villages. The idea thrilled her no end.

  Quxa tingled with excitement; her feet aching to dance. Instead, she breathed deeply, composed herself, and then carefully placed heavy stones on the four corners of the ancient, stained scroll. She’d stolen the document from her mentor, Superior Cilan, after noting it held details of Meldrassa’s story not commonly known. She checked that her roommate Pinda was fast asleep before reading.

  Meldrassa and Efloog, a humble couple not one year married, were due to greet their first child with the coming of the new moon. Unfortunately, Efloog fell gravely ill after slicing his arm on a rusted edge of steel. Unable to afford the special herbs for Efloog’s healing, the couple faced his inevitable death.

  One the first day of November, after
her husband’s first dip into madness brought on by a fever, Meldrassa ran into a wide and begged the sun and skies for help. The sun god struck her down, turning her eyes golden. Meldrassa awoke filled with lust, and returned home to make love to her husband for the last time. To their surprised, Efloog was healed—the Sun God had made Meldrassa a healer when he gave her golden eyes.

  Though Efloog survived, their poverty deepened. Unable to pay their taxes with only a week until their child’s birthing day, they feared losing everything. Efloog spoke to Meldrassa, convincing her that healing other men would make them rich. Reluctantly, Meldrassa agreed to one healing for five gold coins—enough to pay their taxes until the birth of her child. News spread quickly, and after one old man’s healing from near death, men from across Senya flocked to their marital home.

  Meldrassa healed hundreds of men out of fear they would kill her. Even Efloog could not stop them, though they always paid their coin. They tied Meldrassa to the bed and ravaged her body.

  Her body healed, but her mind withered. The child in her womb grew stronger and was soon born. A daughter, whom she named Curatia.

  Meldrassa tried to kill herself, but failed to bleed to death, or choke. Her body’s exceptional healings kept her alive through her misery. She sought out a mercenary, paying him fifty gold to sever her head. Before her death, Meldrassa gave her close friend, Wenda, a letter to pass onto her daughter Curatia on her eighteenth birthday.

  Quxa turned her head as the tears dripped down her cheeks. Meldrassa’s story saddened Quxa, as if she was a part of Meldrassa somehow. Even worse, Curatia had never known her mother’s sacrifice. It angered Quxa that healers couldn’t have children. Meldrassa was the first and last healer to succeed. That’s why Quxa was obsessed with the story. She desired a child herself. It meant more to her than living.

  Quxa read on.