by Dan Krokos
The Tremist loomed over him, staring down, head cocked to the side as if he found Mason curious. Then he raised his broken talon high above his head, the advanced weapon reduced to a club that could crush Mason’s skull—
He closed his eyes reflexively, but they flew open a second later, when Susan grabbed Mason and threw him onto the Egypt’s deck. A second of pure relief while he was airborne: his head was in one piece. He could get back into the fight.
Mason tumbled hard and lost his breath, then rolled to all fours, head snapping up to see Susan now taking on the two Tremist by herself. He was about to charge forward, but Susan elbowed the door control.
No, that couldn’t be right. She wouldn’t lock herself in. Mason wanted to scream but the air hadn’t returned to his lungs.
He watched as the huge dock door slammed shut between them.
The green light of talons filled the viewport. A flash of Susan’s midnight hair dropping out of sight.
Silence.
Chapter Twelve
With a shudder, the Hawk detached from the Egypt and began to drift away.
“No!” Mason screamed, pounding on the door. “No no NO!” All at once he understood. His EMP grenades had kept them alive, but it had also knocked out the electronic door controls. The button she’d elbowed had been the mechanical release where the two ships met. But it was located outside the Egypt. Someone had to stay behind, and Mason had sealed her fate from the moment he dropped the grenades.
It was his fault she was trapped there.
The flash of green light still danced on his retinas, but he didn’t believe it. They wouldn’t have killed her. No. She was outnumbered. The king wanted to talk to her still. Yes, they would keep her alive. They would make her join the other prisoners. Maybe the talon fire had been to subdue her, or scare her.
He had locked his sister on the Tremist ship.
“Mason, we have to go. Mason!” Merrin was pulling him from behind, but he kept wriggling out of her grasp and pressing himself to the viewport. He had to see. There was nothing visible through the door; the Hawk had already dropped out of sight.
“She’s gone,” Merrin said. “She’s doing her duty.” She pulled at him again, but Mason shoved her hand away. He grabbed his helmet and ripped it off his head.
“What duty?” he spat. “To get caught? What good can she do over there?”
“Maybe she’ll escape…” It was weak and they both knew it. Merrin looked like she wanted to take it back.
Her violet eyes were bright, pleading. Mason knew she wanted to comfort him any way she could, but the color of her eyes reminded him of a crucial thing. He could see the faint lines of purple veins in her neck, up the sides of her face.
Mason took a deep breath. He had to know what she knew. Friends or not.
“Are you a Tremist?” he asked.
You know what she is. She’s your friend. Your only friend.
“Why would you…?”
“I saw one. They have the same hair and eye color as you. The same kind of skin.” He tried to swallow but his throat was too dry. “Do you dye your hair? Did you change the pigmentation in your eyes?”
“No, I—”
“So are you a Tremist?”
She pressed her lips together and glared at him. His stomach clenched with regret; he hadn’t meant to sound so cruel. But if Susan had just stayed behind so Merrin could be free, he wanted to know she was ESC to the core. Especially since they still had to deal with the Tremist controlling the Egypt. He needed to trust her, badly. You do trust her, you idiot, Mason thought. As much as Susan. What are you doing?
“I’m not a Tremist,” she said finally. “The fact that you would ask me that says a lot, Stark. We’ve known each other since before we were cadets, and you ask me that?”
Mason felt a sharp sting in his chest. He made his voice softer, not as accusing. “I saw one close up, Merrin, that’s all. I took his armor and saw his face.” He reached up absently to touch her cheek, but she pulled away before he could. His cheeks heated up.
“My name is Merrin Solace. My mother is a commander in the ESC. My father is a doctor. I was born on Mars in 2787. If you don’t trust me, that’s your problem.”
She started to walk away. Mason grabbed her wrist.
Merrin looked at where he touched her, then let her eyes drift to his, slowly, almost lazily. Dangerously. “Let go of me,” she said, voice cold as ice.
He did.
“I’m going back to the others now. They need us.”
He couldn’t forget what he saw. The logical part of his brain said it wasn’t a coincidence. But his gut said trust her. It said that whatever blood ran through her, it belonged to the ESC, like his. But how could he really know? He would have to wait, and see, and keep his guard up at all times.
Tremist or not, she’s on your team, and you’re on hers.
He put out his hand, and she looked at it for a second. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You know I would do anything for you.”
She nodded stiffly, then grabbed his hand and shook it once.
Through the window, the Hawk was positioning itself outside the Egypt’s storage bay. They weren’t coming back for Merrin.
The weapon was more important to them.
“You’ll help me find the other cadets?” she asked.
“Yes,” Mason said. “But there’s something I have to see first.”
* * *
She followed him as he retraced his steps to the storage bay.
It was locked.
The main doors were open to outer space; there wasn’t an atom of breathable air in the room. Through the window, the cube was visible as it moved sideways out of the bay, completely silent. The Hawk was towing it out somehow, most likely using the twin tractor beams underneath the engines.
The Tremist had the weapon now. Whatever that meant, it was a mission failure. Mason had failed to stop the enemy. The soldier part of him was shamed he chose his sister and Merrin over the goal any superior officer would’ve given him: to keep the weapon out of Tremist hands.
The brother and friend part of him didn’t care.
“What is it?” Merrin said, her voice full of awe. The size of it still startled Mason. It was one thing to see something huge made by man, like the Olympus space station, but a different thing when you had no idea what you were looking at. It was the mystery of the thing. He had no idea how it was built, or where it came from.
“It’s the reason the Tremist boarded us, whatever it is. I know it.” He turned to her. “We have to be careful.”
They left the door, heading for the elevator that would take them to the lowest level of the crossbar. Once inside, Mason pressed the down button. He touched the space under his ear. “Elizabeth?”
“Yes, Cadet Stark,” she said in his ear.
“How many personnel on this ship? ESC and Tremist.”
“There are nineteen ESC personnel on the ship. And twelve Tremist, not including the unconscious one in the engineers’ tunnel.”
That stole the breath from Mason. There were eighteen cadets total. There had to be a mistake, so he asked, “How … how many ESC of rank?”
“Commander Lockwood is the only remaining officer on the Egypt. Two hundred and ninety-six have been captured and are on the Tremist ship, thirteen have been killed. Commander Lockwood is in critical condition in the sick bay, along with the cadets.”
He released the breath he was holding. The cadets were okay, and together. A fierce rush of pride gave him strength: his fellow cadets had evaded capture.
“What about the Tremist?” he asked. The relief didn’t last; there were twelve active Tremist on the ship. The cadets outnumbered them by six, but he’d already seen the enemy up close, in action. Engaging them directly would never work. They needed a plan, something with guile and surprise.
“There are six on the bridge. Five moving through the ship. And one in the bathroom. Plus the one you locked in the engineers’ tunn
el.”
The lift stopped and they got out. The way was clear, so they stepped onto the moving track and were propelled toward crewside, port. Elizabeth would have to be their edge; he knew where the Tremist were, but they didn’t know where he was. It was a start.
“Can you isolate them?” he asked. “Can you lock the one in the bathroom?”
“Done,” Elizabeth replied.
Now there were eleven to worry about. “Brilliant. What about the others?” he said.
“The five are not near your position, but can move through certain areas. I cannot stop the six on the bridge from accessing the Egypt’s controls, and I cannot stop them from leaving. They are trying to gain entrance to my mainframe, and I will not be able to hold them off much longer.”
Losing Elizabeth would be game over. Not only would the Tremist have complete control of the Egypt, they would be able to find the cadets without having to do a room by room search. They’d be able to eject the escape shuttles before the cadets could use them to escape.
“How much time do we have?” They reached a faster section of the track. Mason kept his balance, wind roaring in his ears.
“I suspect I will be loyal to the ESC for another hour, perhaps sixty-eight minutes.”
Mason and Merrin almost fell sideways as the Egypt began to accelerate. The cube had to be clear now, towed along by the Hawk’s tractor beams. He imagined it floating in space.
And now the ship was moving. Not a good thing.
“Tell me about the weapon,” Mason demanded.
“Please narrow your query.”
“The big cube thing in the storage bay!”
“That is classified.”
“Tell me something. Who made it?”
A pause. “I have no information about its creation. I could not tell you even if ordered to.”
“Can you tell me anything?”
“Stand by. I will try to gather information for a more complete report.”
The walkway dumped them at the elevator on the left side of the ship. Sick bay would be four levels up, a couple hundred feet aft. The other cadets wouldn’t be far. They seemed safe, but the moment the Tremist took control of Elizabeth, they’d be sitting ducks. Or, more accurately, fleeing ducks that would be easy to find. Not to mention the Tremist could leave the bridge and begin a manual sweep at any time.
Mason and Merrin rode the crewside elevator up, then jogged down the hushed hallway.
“Are we still clear?” he asked Elizabeth.
“Two Tremist are making a sweep toward crewside. The earliest they could be at your position is three minutes. I will inform you as they get closer. It’s likely they will enter crewside, but not stray too far from the bridge.”
Mason broke out in sweat again. Elizabeth telling him was one thing, but he wanted eyes on the enemy, to know exactly how they were moving and where. Parts of the Egypt were still unfamiliar to him. He half expected the enemy to be around every corner, behind every door.
The ship was quiet save for the constant background hum. Not quiet in a good way. It was a tomb now. Nearly lifeless. The crew numbered in the hundreds when it left space dock two weeks ago—there was usually never an empty hallway; someone was always walking somewhere. Now the crew was either dead, or worse, on the Hawk.
They rounded the corner into sick bay, and Mason saw how alone they truly were.
Chapter Thirteen
The room held eighteen cadets counting Mason, Merrin, Stellan, Jeremy, and Tom. Ages seven to thirteen. All of them bunched on one side of the bay, doing their best to stand at attention but fidgeting for the most part. The younger ones were wide-eyed; the older ones sweated through their suits. They saw Mason in his armor and a few of them gasped, even though he’d removed the helmet. He thought about immediately tearing the rest off but decided losing the protection it offered would be foolish.
Commander Lockwood, bald head shiny with sweat, lay on his back in a bed, burns covering his neck and the side of his face. His ESC uniform was singed in places, but burned away completely under his right ribs. There the skin was black and red. He was going to die if they didn’t get him to a real hospital soon, that much was clear. Mason felt hollow, because he knew Lockwood, who was the unofficial cadet herder sometimes. He also felt heavy, because when Lockwood died, they would truly be alone. Just Elizabeth to keep them company on a ship controlled by the enemy.
The cadets waited quietly at a safe distance while Stellan administered fluids through the IV. Jeremy’s eyes were red with tears. Tom was silent and sullen. Mason approached the bed slowly. He didn’t want to see the wounds up close, but couldn’t appear unnerved in front of the others.
Lockwood barely moved, just rolled his eyes toward Mason. “Cadet Stark,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Report.”
“Yes, sir,” Mason said. “We’re the only ones left, sir. There are six Tremist on the bridge and five roaming the halls, and I had Elizabeth lock one in the bathroom.”
“A damn shame, that is,” he said. “Were you on the Hawk?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Impressive.” He coughed, wet and deep. “You see our crew?”
“Yes, sir. They’re alive. Prisoners, sir.”
Mason felt pressure behind his eyes, and a lump in his throat. I will not cry. He had to be strong. If they were the only ones left, someone had to be strong. If Susan were here, it’d be her, but she wasn’t. A Stark leads, she told him, many times. Our parents were leaders. Leading is a responsibility, not an honor. A duty.
Duty. He hated the taste of the word now.
“You listening, Mason?” Lockwood asked. The hair on the right side of his head had been burned away. His voice was shaky and weak.
“Sir,” Mason said.
“I understand your sister was acting captain before she left the Egypt.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m hurt, son. Bad.”
Mason looked over the wounds. “It doesn’t look so bad. Not for a commander in the ESC.”
Lockwood cracked a smile, but it turned into a grimace.
“Jeremy, another ten units,” Stellan said.
“No! No…” Lockwood said. “I need to be lucid. The pain is fine, boys. Pain can be a soldier’s friend, if one uses it to stay sharp.”
“Sir,” Mason said. “What was in the storage bay? The cube.”
His eyes cleared, free of pain for a moment. “They took it, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You know what it is?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s the end of the world, son. We got greedy. The whole ESC, the whole united worlds, this is our doing. We got greedy.”
The sweat under Mason’s armor turned cold. If it truly was a weapon, the Tremist had it now, and there was no one to take it back.
“What is it?”
“It’s a cross gate. The biggest ever built.”
At first, Mason thought he misspoke. A cross gate was exactly that: a gate. A ship would deploy it, usually from the engineering side. It looked like a chunk of metal that would unfurl in space, pieces moving until there was a circle with rims no thicker than Mason’s wrist. The circle would be big enough to fly a ship through. The gate would fold space until whatever distant location you wanted was right inside the gate. It allowed for instant travel throughout the galaxy, if you knew where you were going.
But what Mason had seen wasn’t a gate. It was a chunk of metal from which thousands of gates could’ve been made.
“Sir?”
“It’s one gate, Cadet. One gate.”
Mason remembered the size again, the length and width. Imagined it unfolding in space. His brain simply couldn’t process it, the same way it was hard to imagine the distance between stars.
“We came out here…” Lockwood’s voice rasped and gurgled until he coughed. “… to negotiate a treaty with the Tremist. To share Nori-Blue.”
The idea of a treaty with the Tremist rocked him. The war would be ove
r, and both species would have enough of the planet to thrive on. It seemed too good to be true, even though the idea seemed so easy.
Lockwood’s eyes said it was too good to be true.
He continued. “That’s what we were here for on paper. But it was never going to happen. The ESC will not surrender even partial control of Nori-Blue. This is all classified, by the way.”
Mason just nodded. He felt Merrin grab his hand and squeeze. Across the bed, Tom watched the commander gravely. And still the other fifteen cadets remained quiet, listening, as they were trained to.
“Instead we were going to unleash the biggest cross gate ever created. The cube unfolds. It’s really made up of hundreds of thousands of poles that will … telescope. Extend.”
Mason began to see the truth, the intent, before the commander finished, but he had to hear it. He had to hear it to believe.
“Big enough to pass a planet through…” Lockwood said.
“Sir…”
“We were going to cross Nori-Blue into Earth’s orbit. It would share the same orbit as Earth, just on the other side of the sun. After Nori-Blue adjusted, we’d have an inhabitable planet right next door. With the planet that close to the ESC’s main bases, the Tremist would have no chance. No chance to win.”
It was brilliant, yet horrifying. To steal a planet from its natural orbit and add it to our solar system. Mason couldn’t understand how the ESC could’ve come up with this plan and put it into action. Nori-Blue didn’t belong in our solar system; it wasn’t natural. Could they even know for sure what effect it would have? The balance of gravity in the solar system would be thrown off. Unless they had some way to compensate.
