by F. T. Lukens
Standing at the base of the throne was Millicent, surrounded by troops with weapons trained on her; she didn’t appear to be in any distress.
“Millie,” Ren called. She lifted her head, eyes glowing, long hair falling in her face. “Come here.”
She tilted her head; the movement was oddly slow. She paused, then she tiptoed away from the circle of soldiers, joining Ren’s side unhindered.
Vos clapped. The noise startled Ren and echoed in the underground cavern.
“That was almost as impressive as Abiathar, and you didn’t even need to tap into a star to do it. But between you and me, your ability is a little more extraordinary than mere suggestion.”
Asher stiffened beside Ren. He took a step forward, shielding Ren with his body. But Ren didn’t need protection, not from this man.
“Where is my brother?” Ren called.
Vos laughed. “Straight to the point. I like you.” He jumped down from the raised dais, and his black boots scuffed on the stone. He didn’t come closer, but leaned back on his elbows. “You’re the one who escaped and foiled my designs for Mykonos. I really should kill you. You’ve set me back quite a bit, but I have other plans.”
“I’m not interested in your plans,” Ren said. “I want to know where my brother is. He disappeared in one of your raids on our village.”
Vos shrugged. “He could be anywhere. I’m certainly not the only one interested in your kind.” He leveled a gaze at Asher. “But you know that, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Asher said, but his heart wasn’t in it.
Vos laughed at the obvious lie. “So you didn’t send a message to the Phoenix Corps? About half an hour ago? It left from the same console that your friend here used to scan for my beacon.”
Asher frowned. He didn’t answer; his lips were thin.
“You didn’t,” Ren whispered, turning to study Asher’s face. “Did you?”
Asher’s jaw clenched so tight Ren swore he heard his teeth grind together. “I told you. They wanted me among other things.”
Ren took a step to the side, betrayed. And he stared at Asher with disbelief. “You used me.”
Asher’s façade dropped, and he paled, looking stricken. “No. No, it was for your freedom. Me and Vos for you. That’s the deal.”
“I’m not going peacefully,” Vos said, with a wave of his hand. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ll have two technopaths to cover me while we escape.”
Shocked, Ren took another step and wobbled. Asher reached out to steady him, and Ren knocked his hand away.
“No.” Ren said to Vos. “I’m not going with you.”
“Oh, I think you will,” Vos said. “Think about it, Ren. That’s your name, right? Ren?”
Ren nodded. He heard the question, but his thoughts were a blur. Asher had crossed him, as Nadie said. Asher had betrayed him.
Now it was his turn. In this future, the one Nadie had seen, Ren would cross Asher as well, but Ren bucked against it.
He wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t.
“What you have to decide, Ren, is if you want to join with me and have your freedom to fight against the Corps or stay here and be captured again. You grew up on Erden. You grew up with choices. You have dust ingrained in your bones. You may be a star, but you are of dirt. You will never be anything but an oddity to the drifters and to the Corps. Do you want that? To be under the control of a military which would see your village, your family, burn?”
Ren’s chest heaved. His mouth went dry. “No.”
“No. No one would. Come with me,” Vos said, holding out his hand. “Come with me. Escape, and together, we can show the drifts what you’re really made of.”
Ren swallowed.
Millicent turned to him. Her fingers brushed his hand; her touch was searing. “I’ve watched you,” she said, voice soft, seductive. “I’ve watched you struggle with what you are. You can’t be star and flesh. You can’t be both. It will destroy you. You will burn up from the inside until your skin is ash and your bones brittle.”
“I… I…”
“Embrace what you are. They can’t protect you from yourself. Let go.”
Ren shuddered. “It was you,” he whispered. “You pulled me into the ship. You influenced me, made me do all those things in my dreams. You made me almost hurt the crew.”
“I helped you unlock your power. I helped you shed your restrictive shell.”
Ren swallowed. “You’re a star.”
“Yes, and you are too. Come with us. Be happy. Be what you were made to be.”
Ren took a step, swayed toward Millicent’s outstretched hand. “I… I don’t know.”
“Ren, don’t,” Asher said. “They aren’t telling you everything. It’s a trick.”
“I’ve watched you,” Millicent said again. “In the ship, you are free. In the wires, in the circuits, you are happy.”
I watched you. Ezzy had told him that too. She had watched him, in the fields, in the village, but he wasn’t happy there. He remembered longing for a better life, for more.
“We don’t have much time before the Corps invades our little sanctuary. The choice is yours, but make it quickly.”
Millicent crossed the room with her back turned to Ren and Asher. She took Vos’s hand, twining their fingers.
“I am made of stardust. I don’t belong in the ground.”
“No, you don’t, little star.” Vos smiled at her and then lifted his gaze to Ren, questioning. “Come on, Ren. Leave this birdman to his flock. You belong with us.”
Ren shuddered. Vos was right. If he stayed, he’d fall under VanMeerten’s control again. There would be check-ins and panic attacks and the threat of Perilous Space. If he left, he might have a chance to find Liam. He would be free to make choices.
“Ren, don’t be a duster idiot. His freedom comes with a price. He’s going to use you to kill people, to destroy the drifts. Are you willing to pay that? Do you think he’ll let you leave if you want to? What about Liam?” Asher pleaded. He didn’t reach out; he was hindered by the soldiers standing between them, but he begged.
Ren looked around. Vos’s people surrounded Asher; their weapons were trained on him.
“Liam’s not here,” Ren said. His voice choked. Tears welled in the corner of his eyes. He blinked, and they spilled. “I can’t do this.” His hands shook, and he flexed them. “You won’t hurt him.” He said, addressing Vos, gesturing toward Asher. “You’ll let him go.”
Vos bowed at the waist. “Of course. You have my word.”
“Ren.” Asher’s voice broke on his name.
Ren took a step.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” Asher said, words spilling out. “I didn’t want to leave you, but I knew I’d have to in order to keep you free. I thought it would be easier for both of us, but I was stupid, okay? I was the idiot. Don’t go.”
Ren wavered. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t decide. It was too much. But no, he’d chosen his family when he left Erden. He’d chosen Rowan and Ollie and Penelope and Lucas and Asher.
Asher had protected him the entire time. He didn’t want to leave him. He scrubbed his hands over his eyes, then wrapped them around his stomach, holding himself together. His body trembled. His pulse raced. He felt as if he would quake apart.
He couldn’t leave. He couldn’t stay.
The ground rumbled beneath his feet.
“We’re out of time, lads.” Vos nodded toward his small group of soldiers. “He’s coming with us, choice or not. Grab him.”
They swarmed Ren, pinning his arms to his sides. They jerked his hands behind his back to bind them. No. No! He chose Asher. Ren fought. He squirmed and kicked, clawed and scratched. Asher shouted, pushing his way toward Ren, but there were too many bodies between them.
Above
them, the ceiling cracked. Pebbles rained down. Large rocks fell, landing near where Asher and Ren struggled. The tunnel shook, and, with a blast, the rock opened to the sky.
Ren reached for his power, allowed it to flood him, and he drowned in it. The tech which surrounded him pinged in his senses. He flashed into the weapons of Vos’s soldiers and into their comms, and pushed. Blue sparks gathered like fireflies caught in a wind, crackling like lightning. A thick tension hung in the air, a gathering storm of potential. Ren drew everything in; static and strength coursed through him, until he was full of energy and light and power. His star was a second heartbeat, alive with promise, and it consumed him.
It burst from him with a yell—an explosion of blue fire, sizzling down Ren’s arms—and the men around him fell away, blown like leaves in a whirlwind.
The tunnel shuddered with the uniform stamp of feet and the whir of transports now hovering above them in the toxic air. Pieces of the tunnel fell in. Corpsmen swamped the area, filling the vast space with more bodies and tech and sound. Vos’s troops, the ones still standing, fired back.
And in the middle of it all, Ren lit up like a star—fire and electricity pulsed out like the slap of waves on the shore and with the fury of a hurricane.
Vos and Millicent were gone. They disappeared from Ren’s periphery. Millicent’s signature faded as they ran, abandoning their people to the chaos.
Ren didn’t care. He focused like a laser on those around him. Everyone was an enemy. Everyone was a threat. Everyone should cower. They were nothing in the face of a living star, and they would burn in his presence, they would fall to their knees as cinders.
Watch out. He’s a technopath.
Get the weapon.
Ren, get down!
The chatter washed over him, joined the cacophony of sound and taste and touch as Ren fused with all the tech around him. He set comms to static and let loose a scream of white noise. Lights popped, raining sparks. Weapons disassembled. Transports fell to the ground. The ceiling caved.
Chaos reigned, and Ren was king.
A sharp crack pierced through the static and the power. Ren was snapped back into his body. He swayed on his feet. His eyes were half-lidded, as he stared at the destruction he’d wrought. Bodies, wreckage, and tech lay around him in the blast zone, but the hum of the tech was absent. He was disconnected from it all. Strangely, he didn’t reconnect with his body as he usually did, as if there was another way for his body to not to feel like his own.
Zag stood a few feet away with an ancient weapon in his hand; smoke swirled from its barrel. Ren watched the wreath of gray as it dissipated, feeling as if he could follow, disappear into the ether like a ghost.
Asher stared at him with wide green eyes and an open mouth. He looked ridiculous. Ren wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t because he had no air. He swallowed and gagged at the hot metallic taste on his tongue.
Ren swayed again. Fiery pain bloomed from his side. It spread; sizzling agony swept through his nerves, engulfed him, lit him up in a way he’d never experienced. It wasn’t blue, like his power, but orange and red like flames. With a trembling hand, Ren touched the wound and raised blood-stained fingers.
“Oh,” he said.
Then his legs gave out, and he fell like rubble.
14
The ground beneath Ren was hard and cold. The colors leached away, leaving the world grey as he stared at the cracked sky.
“Ren,” Asher was at his side, cradling his face in shaking hands. “Cogs, Ren. What did they do?” Asher pushed down on Ren’s wound and it sparked another fire, but it was weak, sputtered out, and left Ren cold. “What the hell did he shoot you with?”
“Ash,” Ren said, voice thick. “What?”
“Don’t talk. Don’t talk.” Asher was frantic, barking at people, yelling—but his hands didn’t leave Ren’s body. Ren couldn’t feel Asher’s touch anymore. He missed it with an ache almost as sharp as the wound.
He was freezing. And then he laughed. Nadie. Asher had crossed him. But Ren would cross while in Asher’s arms.
“What’s so funny?” Asher asked. His voice was steady in the encroaching dark, but there was underlying fear—always fear.
“Nadie,” Ren choked. “Crossing.”
Realization, panic, and guilt flickered over Asher’s expression, until it landed on determination.
“To the ship,” he whispered. “To the ship. Hey! I need a transport. I need…”
Ren’s eyes fluttered shut, and he drifted. The sharp taps on his cheeks and the urgent voice weren’t important, and they were far away… so far away.
Noises. Voices. Movement.
Ren groaned when he was lifted; his body shuddered of its own accord. The pain was enough to rouse him. He stared up at the underside of Asher’s jaw, where blond stubble caught the low light of wherever they were. They moved too fast, and the scenery blurred. Ren closed his eyes again; the jumble of sensation was too much.
“You stay with me. Okay? You can’t get out of fighting with me by dying.”
Ren smiled, then went limp again.
What happened? Ash, what happened!
Help me get him to the ship.
Stars! Ollie! Ollie, open the bay doors! And get Pen!
Ren stirred when they crossed the threshold into the ship; the Star Stream welcomed him, enveloped him in the warmth of its embrace. He tried to move, to alert Asher, but his body wouldn’t respond. His power swelled in his chest, reminding him he was more than human, more than flesh.
Can you save him?
I don’t know what… is that a bullet?
What the stars happened? Where were you two?
Put him there. Out of the way. I’ll do what I can, but he’s lost so much blood.
Are you okay, Ash? Are you hurt?
No. No, I’m… fine. Save him, please.
Hand me that! Where did they get a bullet for stars’ sake?
This was their only option to stop him.
Why did they need to stop him? Ash?
Ren’s hand fell off Penelope’s table when she jostled him. His fingers grazed the hull. He didn’t hesitate. He fled the pain and the turmoil. He fled his unresponsive body. He fled the phantom sensations of needles and hands.
He’s still bleeding.
I’m doing the best I can. I don’t know…
He fled toward safety. He fled into the ship. Ren dissipated into the ether, into the circuits, into the wires. There, he was happy. There, he was safe.
He’s gone.
* * * * *
Ren watched from the vid feeds. He stared down at the figure on the cot, hooked up to machines, pale and small under blankets.
Someone sat next to the bed… someone… someone Ren knew. Asher. Asher sat next to the bed and held Ren’s limp hand clasped in his own, mumbling words that didn’t make sense. His blond head was bowed; his lips were pressed to his knuckles.
“I’m so sorry. What have I done? What have I done?”
Ren switched feeds, crossed the room, found another angle. He sat watching. Time ticked by, calculable down to the millisecond, not measured in moments or feelings, which were inconsequential to him now. All that mattered was the ship and the systems, operations and electricity and data.
“I have to leave. Pen is going to watch over you. And Rowan. And Lucas. Ollie, too, if he can stand to. He’s upset.”
The lights flickered. A short in the mechanism, but Ren didn’t rush to fix it. Why did Asher need to leave? He shouldn’t leave. Ren didn’t want him to leave.
A woman—Rowan, her name was Rowan—walked into the room. She lightly touched Asher’s shoulder. “They’re here for you.”
Asher gently placed Ren’s hand back on the table and tucked the blanket tighter over the body.
“Watch him.”
“You kn
ow he’s going to come looking for you when he wakes up. It’ll be the first thing he’ll want to do.”
“I don’t know about that. I betrayed him.”
“You were protecting him. He’ll understand.”
Power surged in the bay door mechanism; the lock stuck. People waited outside, dressed in uniforms, ornate birds on their shoulders—Phoenix Corps. Ren hesitated for half a second before fixing the glitch and allowing them entrance.
Rowan grabbed Asher in a hug, and they embraced tightly.
“We could run,” she whispered. “They think he’s dead. They wouldn’t follow. And if they did they’d never find us.”
“They would. And they’d figure out he’s still alive and they would take him. And they’d hurt you and the crew.”
She nodded, her chin digging into his shoulder. “Take care, little brother.”
“You, too.”
They parted.
Asher left.
Following him, Ren jumped to another feed and watched the bent figure walk down the corridor and into the bay. The group of soldiers waited for him. They surrounded him and escorted him out of the ship.
We’re departing for Mykonos.
Aye, captain.
Stars and space.
We’ve got work.
Minutes. Seconds. Hours.
New coordinates.
Another drift.
A dock.
Space and stars.
Credits.
Coordinates. Route set.
A malfunction. Fixed.
A message.
Seconds. Hours. Minutes.
Wake up, brother! Wake up.
Ren gasped when he woke. His back arched off the metal; his mouth and eyes were open. His muscles pulled taut for a long moment before he flopped back to the table, exhausted. He breathed, lungs aching, body shivering from the influx of adrenaline and from the frigid air. He weakly raised his head.
The ship was dark. And Ren was alone.
the BROKEN MOON series conclusion: Zenith Dream
When Ren wakes up from his life-threatening injury, he finds himself on the Star Stream without Asher. He is informed that Asher has left with the Phoenix Corps and that the Corps believes Ren to be dead. Despite the opportunity to disappear, Ren is determined to fix his mistakes. He convinces the crew to join him for one last mission—find Asher, free Liam, and escape from the Corps’ reach. But a war is brewing between the Corps and an army of star hosts, and, despite his wish to flee, Ren is drawn into the conflict. With his friends by his side, Ren must make a choice, and it will affect the future of his found family and the cluster forever.
