by K. F. Breene
“Most of the other cities were better off than LA,” she said. “There were a lot of people hiding. The cities weren’t as barren.”
The environment assaulted them as they exited the bunker and walked along the pockmarked walkway thirty floors above a pile of rubble. A craft hovered next to the only undamaged part of the floor’s bay. The docking didn’t work, so they helped the children over the small gap before throwing in Trent, who kept hemming and hawing about a safety rope.
Once inside, Millicent stood near the console, afraid to sit down lest she instantly fall asleep. She had barely slept in three days—her body was trying to mutiny.
“I sent more troops to pick up children,” Trent said. “There are . . . quite a few of them. Over two hundred from both conglomerates in this city alone! Most of them are normal kids, but some have exceptional abilities. Or so the files Danissa sent to me say. From what we can gather, none have been sterilized. We have a real starter seed for Paradise. Another generation to live on and naturally create a future.”
“I was looking forward to populating Paradise with Millie,” Ryker said with a smirk.
Millicent rolled her eyes. “No. No more. The creation lab in this body is closed, indefinitely.”
“Yes, childbirth is certainly hard on the—”
“Move!” Marie shouted at Terik, cutting Trent off. Trent’s expression immediately turned to annoyance.
Terik stared at Marie, blank-faced, blocking her way. He didn’t so much as flinch.
“Is that so?” Marie asked in a dangerous voice. Her father’s voice.
“They have been at each other since they met.” Trent sighed in exhaustion. “I have no idea what the problem is.”
“He’s a pompous asshole—”
“Marie! Language!” Millicent said with a warning.
“—who thinks he’s the only one who ever had any hardship. Well, I’ve got rare abilities, too. And I’ve been rescued from a lab, too. And yes, I was in a battle. He’s not any better than me!”
“I didn’t say I was better,” Terik said in a deceptively calm voice. “I said that I’m different, and nothing will ever change that.”
“You’re not different!” Marie balled her fists. Ryker rubbed his eyes, minutely shook his head, and looked away, something he always did when Marie got her dander up for reasons he couldn’t understand.
“You’re natural born. I’m lab born. I’m different.”
“I was lab born,” Marie shouted. “My brother and sister were the natural-born ones, not me!”
“Get in the craft,” Ryker said in a deep, commanding tone.
Still glaring at each other, the two children did as they were told, followed by the others.
“I’d like to look and see if these children were flagged to be sterilized,” Trent said, rubbing his chin and staring at Terik.
“Does he talk about you like that?” Terik shoved a finger in Trent’s direction, staring down at a seated Marie.
“Yes! He talks about literally everyone like that!” Marie stood from her seat. “I’m not afraid of you, you know. That flat stare? My dad does it better than you. I’ve half a mind to put my foot up your—”
“Marie,” Ryker said. Silence immediately filled the craft. The two troopers in the rear straightened up, the children’s mouths formed thin lines, and Trent’s eyes popped. “Enough.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Marie said, sitting back down. Terik clasped his hands on his lap.
“Have you heard any word on the Moxidone rocket?” Millicent asked into the blessed silence. Securing it had been a cinch. It turned out, Toton—or whatever those beings called themselves—had been hell-bent on destroying themselves, along with all evidence of whom they were, what they’d done, and why they’d done it, once their chosen few were safely off-planet. That had left the rocket ripe for the taking.
“Perfect working order,” Ryker said. “It was tested in small flights after it was built, and was deemed ready for the journey to Paradise. We should cut our travel time in half.”
Millicent sagged against the console. She wanted to be home so bad she shook.
“Is he coming with us?” Marie asked quietly, glaring at Terik again.
“You know,” Trent mused, folding his hands in his lap with a small smile. “On the other side of hate, there’s often love. Strong emotions mean a strong connection . . .”
Marie switched her glare to Trent.
“Yes, Marie,” Millicent said. It was her turn to run her hand over her eyes. “They are coming with us. Soon we’ll all get separate rooms, we’ll take a long nap, we’ll clean up this planet some, and we’ll leave. Okay? Until then, not another word. Out of any of you.”
“Fat chance,” Ryker murmured.
Chapter 25
Danissa wiped a tear off her cheek as she stood next to the incinerator. Puda, dressed in a clean suit with his hands folded over his chest, lay peacefully on the tray, waiting for his return to the elements. She would take his ashes to the top of the tallest building and release him into the environment to drift down over his home. She’d briefly thought about taking him to Paradise, but it didn’t seem fitting. This was the life she’d known with him—in this place. He needed to rest where their connection was strongest.
She stared down on to his face, remembering their time together. Remembering the long, pleasurable nights, and the many stands she’d made within Gregon to grant him special privileges. It had always been worth it. She regretted none of the time she’d been with him, until the end. By allowing him to take risks with her, for her, she’d ultimately led him to his death.
Guilt tearing at her, she took a step back.
“Wait,” Dagger said in that supportively strong voice Danissa craved. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, wiping another tear as sobs threatened to take over.
His gentle but firm hands landed on her shoulders. He made her take a step forward, back to where she’d started. “Are you feeling guilt?” he asked.
She sighed. “I don’t like how you can read me.”
“I’m great at reading body language, and yours is as telling as anyone’s. Why are you feeling guilty? Because he was with you when he died?”
She couldn’t utter the affirmation, not while the sobs were bubbling up, making her body shake. Millicent, Ryker, and the children stood behind her, lending their support. She didn’t want them to see her break down. It wasn’t something that someone in her position was supposed to do.
“He chose to be with you, right?” Dagger asked, his words coated in velvet. She nodded silently. “He didn’t want to leave your side. He died to protect you. He died a hero. Give him that. Remember him for his valor. For his act of bravery. You didn’t kill him, Danissa. He saved you. Send him to the afterlife with a vow never to forget him. That is what every hero wants.”
Sobs finally broke free. She heaved with them, knowing Dagger was right. Knowing that Puda would’ve wanted exactly what Dagger said. She nodded and forced herself to remember the good times as the door to the transformation coffin opened. She fell into the memory of his dazzling smile. As his body moved into the lit interior, she let the tears subside and said good-bye to her best friend and lover.
When it was over, and the ashes were cooling, she followed the others out of the room, belatedly realizing that Dagger still had his hand on her shoulder. “Thanks,” she said.
“I’ve been through this more times than I would like. I’ve seen people go through it more than that, especially these last few years. It gives a man perspective—helps show him what’s important.”
“Thanks for saving me, too. I don’t think I ever said that. I wasn’t going to jump.” And she hadn’t. Dagger had thrown her out of the building, and she’d screamed the whole way down. She’d been no help at all. It was more than a little embarrassing.
“You did say that. Right before you punched me, remember? I had just pulled you into the craft.” He gave a cute, l
opsided smile, showing his natural-born origins. “It was a good punch, too. Well executed.”
“Oh yeah.” Her memory was hazy—fear and adrenaline had been waging war in her at the time. “Sorry about that. But thanks again. For saving me.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also want to be remembered a hero.” He shrugged.
“What about Roe?” she asked a moment later, slightly uncomfortable and not really sure why.
“Gunner and Foster are taking him back to Paradise. That’s where he was the happiest. They bury their dead in the ground there. So they’ll do that with him.”
“In the ground?” Danissa crinkled her nose in disgust.
“I hear that place is really different. They live on the ground. Their homes only go two floors up, at the most. Their crafts don’t even fly. I can’t wait to see. It’ll be a trip.”
“So you’re really going? You were serious about that?”
He shrugged again. “I think so. You?”
“Yes! I want out of this place. I want a better life.”
“You know . . .” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I didn’t like what Trent said to you, but if you do want to try for a child, I can help.” He held up his hands. “No touching or anything. I’m not saying that. Just . . . if you want to try and reproduce, I can give you all the . . . samples you need. The labs peppered me for them often, so I know how it works. Just throwing that out there. No strings attached or anything. But if you need it . . .”
It was her turn to shrug, something warm and soft infusing her middle. She smiled to herself, remembering what it had been like to hold her newborn all that time ago. Wondering how it would feel to get to keep her child this time. To watch him or her grow.
She bit her lip. “Thanks. Again. I might. It probably won’t work, but it’s worth a try.”
A day and a long sleep later, Millicent stepped onto the walkway in front of a department much like the one she’d left in San Francisco all those years ago. Black scarred the side of the building, and half the bay had been torn away. The computer generation above her was absent, revealing the torrid sky. Even as she glanced up, lightning flashed down in the distance.
She turned and looked out over the changed silhouette of the horizon. The battle that had lasted years had made its mark. Buildings were scarred or missing entirely. An entire block had been leveled, leaving behind nothing but piles of brick, stone, metal, and glass. Countless lives had been lost, mostly innocent, some not. The city had been ravaged. Rebuilding would take decades.
Ryker stopped by her side and waited for her to turn toward the entrance of the building. Danissa, Dagger, Trent, and the children were behind her, along with a half dozen troopers. There were a few remaining tasks before they turned matters over to the officials, who had only recently been elected by the rebels to start rebuilding the city while also helping other areas strengthen their acting government.
One of those things was to further tear down the old regime.
“We probably should’ve left the kids at headquarters,” Trent said as they walked. “It’s not too late.”
“I’m going,” Terik said in a hard voice. He hadn’t wanted his family unit to be separated from Marie. It wasn’t out of fondness, either, if their constant fights were any indication. Millicent had a feeling it was a matter of survival. Terik knew that Millicent and Ryker would always make sure Marie was cared for, and he wanted his little family in on that. He hadn’t lasted this long by making stupid decisions. Millicent had to respect him for that.
“This is just a quick stop since it was on our way.” Millicent checked the time. They had plenty. “We’re here to organize the pickup, mostly. We shouldn’t find any resistance.”
“We’re probably safer with them here.” Dagger chuckled.
He wasn’t far wrong.
“You know,” Trent said. Millicent glanced back. He had pushed up between Danissa and Dagger. “I couldn’t help but overhear your private conversation yesterday. I am so excited, let me tell you. I think you have the groundwork to make intelligent, beautiful children. Don’t worry about the excessive violence from Dagger’s side. With Millicent and Ryker—”
“Step away,” Dagger said in a rough voice.
“Oh. Of course,” Trent said. A moment later, he continued, “With their children, all three, the balanced analytical brain of the mother has counteracted the more violent intensity of the father. It’s still there, of course, as you can see when Marie loses her temper. I have never seen her pick up a stick and try to brain someone, like she did yesterday with Terik, but when pushed, she does react strongly. Still, she is mostly a mellow child of extreme intelligence. And I can certainly help with the procreation, as I said, and even with natural enhancements of the child. It is perfectly safe, I assure you.”
“You aren’t going near my possible child, or its mother,” Dagger growled.
“Oh interesting. Danissa, you are a lucky woman. It looks like you’re in his protection bubble already. I’m lucky enough to be in Ryker’s. Although, if you decide you don’t like him, it could really present problems down the line. Thankfully, Millicent chose Ryker, but if she hadn’t, we would’ve seen some real problems in the community. Still do if anyone flirts with her. Everyone is terrified of him.”
“Trent,” Millicent said, not bothering to hide her smile. “Now probably isn’t the time.”
“Oh sure. Right, yes. Of course.”
They were quiet for a moment as they neared the large entryway. Millicent took a deep breath, half feeling like she was going back in time—and dreading it.
“But talk to them about me, will you, Millicent?” Trent spoke up again. “They’ll trust you. I would love another chance at a couple like you and Ryker. I think I am on to something new . . .”
“Does he ever stop?” Dagger asked incredulously.
“No, he doesn’t.” Ryker grinned as his arm came up in front of Millicent to stop her. “Do you have that heat map active, princess? It’s not showing up on my screen.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” Marie said. “I just gave it to Mommy. Here.”
“Sloppy,” Terik murmured, so low Millicent barely heard. She did hear the grunt of pain that followed, though.
“Marie! See, Danissa, this is what I meant,” Trent whispered. “She isn’t usually this amped up. But it is quite clear that she has learned the proper way to punch. I bet she’ll be an even better fighter than Millicent. We’ll see if Terik can match her.”
“Trent,” Ryker barked. “Shut up or go back.”
“Sorry,” Trent muttered.
There were no spiders or organic robots showing on the map. No blue of Toton. Only green dots indicating humans. The distinction programmed by Marie was hopefully correct.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Foster,” the AI security said as Millicent crossed the threshold.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gunner.”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Lance from Gregon Corp.”
The welcomes continued for everyone who still had an implant, all of which had been mostly restored to their factory settings. Millicent wanted to see what systems were still in place within the building, and what kind of warnings or errors, if any, they triggered.
“Did you put your name back into the system, or had they left it?” Danissa asked in a hush.
“Removed the notices and triggers from our files,” Millicent answered, holding up her gun. “That was all.”
“There is a security breach. Unidentified personnel warning,” Ryker said, his eyes on his wrist screen. “For the children. There is an alert for Gregon staffers visiting without the proper paperwork—that’s Danissa. This would’ve been normal protocol from before the war.”
“That was to be expected,” Millicent said. “Is anyone coming to answer it?”
“Not so far.” Ryker glanced around the floor. Most of the work pods were intact. Chairs were scattered, some screens broken, and a few stations demolished, but the floor was mostly
in workable order.
“Why didn’t this floor get attacked?” Millicent asked, looking over the empty space in disbelief. The hollowness and lack of human activity were surreal.
“Toton had no reason to come here,” Danissa said. “I was never here, none of my hard ports were here, and most of the staffers had already been moved or had vanished. The question you should be asking is why Moxidone didn’t blow it to hell like all of the Gregon and Toton buildings they demolished.”
“I don’t need to ask that question,” Millicent said with butterflies in her stomach. She wondered how the upper-level staffers would react to seeing her face. “I surmised relatively quickly that Moxidone was using this upheaval as a means to economic domination. They took out Gregon in the name of taking out Toton. If they ever defeated Toton, which their arrogance must’ve assured them they would, they would have been the last man standing. Gregon would need loans to rebuild. Toton would need to be taken apart and consumed. Moxidone would’ve been in a great position.”
“That must’ve been before half their staffers vanished,” Ryker said, his gaze constantly scanning.
“Idiots,” Dagger said.
“Always have been idiots.” Millicent shook her head. “It seems only idiots are ever in charge, doesn’t it?”
“Says the woman in charge,” Trent muttered.
“Keep to the middle of this path.” Danissa motioned with her hand.
Random objects littered the sides of the makeshift walkway, from chairs to empty food pouches to cast-aside suits. Off to the right, a skeleton lay in pieces, like it had been blown up years ago and allowed to decompose. Which was surely what had happened.
They turned a corner and confronted a barricade made of office equipment. It was only as tall as a person—not a great defense. Millicent said as much.
“Quick, get to the side!” Trent yanked at Danissa, trying to pull her back to the corner. “They are excellent shots!”
“There is no one there, Trent,” Millicent said, checking her screen again.
