by F. T. Lukens
Ren blinked. “Uh… yes?”
“You don’t sound very sure.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Try. How does the freaky science-magic work? And why do they…” She lifted her chin in the direction of the hallway that led to the bridge. “…get all jittery when you do it?”
“They do?”
“Are you kidding me? They’re like a rare-meteorite peddler in a room full of thieves. You know… skittish.”
“I understood the metaphor.”
Chin in her hand, knees bent, she shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. You’re a duster. You have different frames of reference.”
Ren didn’t want to have this conversation lying down and grudgingly pushed to a sitting position. “There is always a price to… freaky science-magic. I need to have an anchor, or I might forget that I’m human.”
Darby’s mouth thinned into a line. “Okay. And I’m guessing someone on this ship is your anchor.”
Grimacing, Ren looked away. “I lost my anchor. But I’m going to get him back.”
“Ah. That explains a few things. I think. Maybe. Okay, not really.”
Ren sighed. He rubbed his temples. “I haven’t been well, and my perceptions of some situations were wrong. Part of that was someone manipulating me. The other part was me and how I panic sometimes. And I scared the crew. I scared myself.”
Darby wrinkled her nose. “But they trust you.”
“I think so.”
“That wasn’t a question.” Darby brushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear and leaned in. “They may get skittish, but they trust you. They trusted you to get the information from that data pad. They trusted you to get us through that locked door on the drift. And then they trusted you to transport us across the cluster. And now, they trust you to find the missing crewman.”
“How do you know that?”
She waved her hand. “Gaining trust is kind of my specialty. I learned how to recognize it young and how to exploit it. Don’t worry,” she amended hastily. “I’m not trying to pull anything on your crew. I’m not addled.”
“Thanks,” Ren said drily.
She pulled back. “I don’t get it, though. Why do they put so much faith in someone who scared them? How can they believe in you?”
“Because they’re good people. They’re my friends, my family.”
She threaded her fingers and rested her chin on them with her elbows planted on her knees. “Huh.”
“Yeah.”
They sat in companionable silence. Darby dropped into a chair and bounced her leg on the deck plate. Her gaze was far away. Ren saw someone different from the cocky thief with the big mouth who had stolen aboard their ship looking for a quick credit. He saw a vulnerable young woman who readily left a drift with a bunch of strangers because there wasn’t someone for her to run back for and save from the chaos. He saw a girl who questioned kindness and didn’t quite grasp forgiveness. He saw someone who was as lost as he sometimes felt.
He was glad of the quiet and leaned back into the cushions of the couch. He was scared of what he’d find or wouldn’t find beyond the thick crush of nature that surrounded the ship. Was Asher really here? Would they be able to find him? Would they be able to free him? Would he want to be freed? Was he even trapped?
Before the doubts could completely creep in, Ollie’s voice boomed over the comm.
“All crew meet in the cargo bay. We’re going exploring!”
_
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Lucas said as he followed Ollie. For once, his goggles weren’t tangled in his brown hair, but were pulled down onto his face. In his hand he held a data pad that guided them. Their path to the village was a winding red line, and they were a blinking blue dot. “If I die, take my body to space and eject me into the nearest star. Please ensure my constituent atoms are able to roam the cluster freely and aren’t trapped on this dirt hole.”
“Stars, Lucas, I didn’t know you could be so dramatic.” Rowan walked behind him and picked her way through the overgrowth. “Does Pen know this side of you?”
“Of course she does.”
“I guess what they say is true then.”
“What’s that?” Lucas asked as he swatted away a large bug. He ducked and shrieked when it swooped at his head and then took off for a higher branch.
Rowan’s lips lifted in a small smile. “That love makes fools of us all.”
“Hey!”
Ollie snorted.
Ren rolled his eyes but couldn’t argue. Asher had done things for him that couldn’t be classified as rational, and he was tromping through a teeming rain forest on a hunch that Asher may be nearby.
Using a modified welder and a large knife they found in the cargo bay, Ollie cut a trail. In some parts of the rain forest, the canopy blocked all light and thus the growth on the floor wasn’t too difficult to maneuver through. Other than the trunks of skinny trees, there weren’t many obstacles. In other areas, where light did filter through gaps, the group encountered thick undergrowth that snagged their clothes and grew higher than their knees, sometimes their waists.
Ren, certain he’d disturbed some animal’s nest, grimaced as he trudged through the small opening Ollie had made. They’d seen the huge snake, and Ren had added colorful frogs, birds with magnificent plumage and loud caws, and something that had growled at them from a perch. He hadn’t caught of glimpse of it other than patterned fur, but Lucas had dropped the data pad and almost jumped into Rowan’s arms at the sound. Ren’s skin had prickled, and he’d wished he hadn’t turned down Rowan’s offer of a pulse gun.
It was difficult to determine the passage of time, since the sky wasn’t visible and the light seemed filtered, so, when the trees became sparse and the edge of the jungle was discernible, Ren was surprised to find it was twilight.
Rowan frowned. “Bara has short days.” Thunder rumbled above them, and rain smattered the leaves. “And frequent rain storms.”
“Great,” Lucas mumbled. He clutched the data pad to his chest. “We’re close. Finally. That village is ahead; the Corps camp is a little farther. There should be a road.”
Ren huddled into Asher’s jacket and tugged the collar higher around his ears. They trudged forward, breaking out of the jungle into a clearing.
Before them, the metal of buildings rose from the landscape and gleamed in the last of the sun’s rays. Houses made of wood and stone dotted the perimeter. It wasn’t a town, but a city, and it was certainly bigger than Ren’s village had been. It nestled between the rain forest on one side and a ridge of mountains on the other. Roads and buildings sprawled outward following the contours of the land. Craning his neck, Ren spied the towering space port; transports floated to land somewhere in the middle of a cluster of buildings. Along the ridges of the mountains, the sunlight reflected from structures, and Ren followed the line of development which connected the main part of the town in the basin with the buildings on the ridges all the way up to a bridge built out of the side of the mountain connecting to the spaceport. This gave access by both air and land to the platforms. It was genius.
“Wow,” Rowan said, shielding her eyes, as she also stared at the construction. “Who knew dusters could be so…” she waved her hand, looking for the word.
“Smart is the word you’re looking for,” Lucas said.
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Ollie said.
Ren huffed. “You’re all so arrogant.” He pushed past the others and headed into the town. “Come on.”
They passed a line of clothes becoming damp in the drizzle. Rowan tugged a dark cloak off the line. She tossed it to Ren.
“You and Ollie are going to go check out the Corps encampment. Lucas and I are going to stay here. I want to talk to a few locals.”
Furrowing his brow, Ren wrapped the cloak around him
. He pulled up the hood. “Won’t you be noticed?”
Thumbs hooked into her pockets, she shook her head. “A town next to a spaceport with the Corps nearby, they’ll be used to travelers.” She scanned the city’s outskirts. “We’ll maintain comm silence until you contact us. We’ll meet back here.” She leveled a hard gaze at Ren. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Ren bit back a frown and nodded. “Yes, Captain.”
“Good.”
Lucas smacked the data pad into Ollie’s chest. “Don’t break it. It’s precious to me.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
Rowan sighed and rolled her eyes. She pointed her finger at Ren then at Ollie. “Nothing stupid.”
Ollie and Ren skirted the city, which took longer than either of them would have guessed. The sky darkened, and clouds and thunder rolled ahead. Three sister moons glowed in the sky. Despite the descent of the sun, the heat didn’t abate, and sweat rolled down Ren’s skin, followed the curve of his spine, and gathered at his temples.
Transports whizzed past them, and they walked around carts pulled by small work animals, but the farther they went, the more the population thinned. Once they were the only ones on the road, Ollie tilted his head and Ren joined him to dart into a patch of trees.
“It’s just up ahead.”
“I know.” Ren tugged on his hood and concealed his face, except the burning blue of his eyes. The power generators from the camp thrummed under his skin. The warning beacons surrounding it pulsed in his ears, and forcefields hummed in his chest. The ping-back from weapons threatened to overwhelm him, but he centered his power with thoughts of seeing Asher again. He swallowed hard. “I can feel everything.”
Ollie flashed him a concerned look, and rested his hand on Ren’s shoulder. “We’ll be all right.”
“What if he’s not here?”
Ollie lifted an eyebrow. “Then we’ll look somewhere else.” His fingers squeezed. “We won’t stop searching for him.”
Fear clogged Ren’s throat. His muscles tingled with fatigue. He felt pinched and drawn, and his senses were drowned in tech.
“Let’s go.”
Ollie and Ren approached the Phoenix Corps camp—a bustling makeshift city of temporary housing—under the cover of the surrounding trees.
Ren sweated beneath his clothes; the rain only made the atmosphere muggy. Insects as big as Ren’s palm flew between the thick towering trees. Occasional howls and calls from local fauna cut through the silence of the night and sent chills down Ren’s spine.
Ren’s body tensed beneath his borrowed cloak. Clouds swept across the sky and obscured the stars, but one of the moons hung low and reflected the nearest star through breaks in the canopy to illuminate their path.
They skirted the perimeter, scouting the area, taking stock of the encampment. It wasn’t large like the citadel on Erden, rather the size of a village, but the power it generated was overwhelming. Ren did his best to catalogue the buildings and the tech signatures, feeding the information into the data pad. They’d decipher it later and form a plan.
Ollie and Ren picked a path in the brush that ran to the muddy earthen road connecting the city to the Corps encampment. Following it, they came around a sharp bend and stopped short.
In front of them sat a small cargo ship with the symbol of the Phoenix Corps emblazoned on the side and several Corps members. Ren hadn’t picked up the signatures from the transport or their weapons because his senses were flooded by the generators and the forcefields of the main camp.
Scrambling, Ollie and Ren ducked into a large pile of brush. Mud clung to Ren’s pants, and thorns caught on his cloak, but he didn’t dare move, almost didn’t dare to breathe as he peeked through the dense crush of foliage. He fervently hoped he hadn’t bothered any of the local wildlife, especially any snakes. Ollie crouched, his large body bent double as he clutched his pulse gun. Ollie held a finger to his lips, and Ren nodded.
Squinting, Ren made out four individuals in Corps uniforms around a small shuttle and a hovercraft that reminded Ren of the floaters back home. Pulling his power from the main area, Ren focused on the shuttle. It was old and damaged and had lost power. The smaller hovercraft hummed with low power, enough to float, but not near enough to make it to the spaceport towering over them a few miles away. Three of the four guards carried weapons, and all four wore comms.
“Did you hear that?” one of the Corps members asked, turning around to survey the area with weapon drawn.
“How could I hear anything over your complaining?” another one said. “You haven’t shut up since we left the main base.”
The original soldier huffed. “Well, I hate this place.” His voice rang out clear over the buzz of insects. He slapped his palm against his neck and grimaced. “Cogging bugs. They’re everywhere.” He shook out his hand.
“And the heat,” another one said. She tugged at her high collar. “It’s nighttime. Isn’t it supposed to let off? I feel like I’m going to suffocate. Where are the environmental controls?”
“This is a planet, cog. There aren’t environmental controls.” The second one wiped his brow. “Besides, if you didn’t whine so much then you wouldn’t waste the air.”
The fourth member, who lugged boxes between the shuttle and the hovercraft, let out a snort. The leader, a thick tall man, whipped out a baton and smacked it against the box he carried.
“Have something to say, Private?”
“No, sir.”
Ren stiffened. It couldn’t be. But Ren knew that voice. He’d heard it every night lying in a cell in a stone citadel. He’d heard it calling him back when he was immersed in the ship. He’d heard it whisper his name as he lay dying on a table.
Asher.
“You better not. And keep moving. Those supplies aren’t going to unload themselves. Cogging supply transport busted like it is. I don’t know how they expect us to get a job done with cheap equipment.” He kicked the ship. The solid thunk of sound echoed loud in the night, followed by a curse and laughter from the others.
Asher sidestepped him and grunted as he hefted the box higher, then trudged between the two vehicles. The leader glared at him.
Ollie clamped his hand over Ren’s shoulder, and that’s when Ren realized he’d pulled his body into a crouch and had inched closer.
A break in the cloud cover allowed the three moons and stars to light the whole clearing. And Ren could distinctly make out the small group. Yes, four of them, including Asher, who was unmistakable in the moonlight—his light hair and his muscular frame and the way he moved and the sound of his voice were all achingly familiar. His uniform was torn and disheveled, and his boots were caked with mud.
Asher carried another box and slid it into the bed of the hovercraft.
“I’m done.”
“Took you long enough, grunt. Stars, my grandmother could’ve done it faster. Is that why you were busted? For being a lazy cog?”
Asher remained silent.
“I heard it was because he went AWOL. Ran away from his post and hid,” the woman said. She sneered at him. “Job get too hard for the pampered little drifter prince?”
The third scoffed and joined the others in a semicircle around Asher. Rain fell heavier. Thunder rumbled.
“I heard he’s a traitor. Consorted with the enemy.”
“Oh yeah?” the leader asked. He prowled around Asher, moving closer. “Explains why leadership has been close-lipped about you. That true, grunt? Are you a traitor?”
Asher turned his head.
“I asked you a question. Are you a traitor?”
Asher tipped his head, looking to the sky.
“I think he’s refusing a direct order.”
“Sure looks that way.”
The leader laughed, low and menacing. “You know what happens to traitors, right?” The punch to Asher’s gut d
oubled him over. The shove had him on his hands and knees.
Asher coughed once, but otherwise didn’t make a sound. He shifted to stand in the mud, but slipped while the other Corps members around him laughed. Rivulets of rain ran down his face, and he wiped them away with his sleeve, smearing mud across the sharp jut of his cheekbones. He attempted to stand again, but was pushed back to the ground with a weapon that reminded Ren of the prods the soldiers’ used during his own captivity.
“How’s the dirt down there, Private? Does it taste good?”
The biggest of the three kicked Asher’s leg from under him and Asher fell all the way to the ground, landing on his bad shoulder. He grunted, features twisting in pain.
Ren burned. He moved to stand, but Ollie grabbed his arm, pulled him down, and shook his head.
Don’t do anything stupid. Stick to the plan. Ren needed to stick to the plan. But for that to happen, he needed to look away, and he couldn’t do that either.
“I asked you a question, Private!”
Asher laid in the mud, breathing hard. He stayed silent, expression hard, jaw clenched as he watched the three standing above him.
His silence seemed to anger them.
“Well, come on. On your feet.”
Asher rolled to his stomach and pushed up on his elbows. He was rewarded with a kick to his ribs which sent him sprawling. His chest heaved. His head splashed in a puddle. The three above him guffawed.
“He gave you an order. Get up.”
Asher grimaced. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry, what was that, nub?”
Ren didn’t know what the word meant. It wasn’t a term he’d heard, but it meant something to Asher, because his entire demeanor changed. Asher staggered to his feet. He wiped his thumb over his bottom lip; blood smeared his chin. He looked at his thumb, then looked at the three that surrounded him.
“Don’t touch me again.”
“I don’t think I like your tone, nub.” The leader grabbed the weapon from his friend; the end of it sparked in the rain. He raised it, the energy hummed, the tip glowed blue and hovered close to Asher’s face.
