Zenith Dream

by F. T. Lukens

  Ren reached out, submerged himself in the power source and the mechanisms, and yanked. The weapon sputtered out, but he didn’t relinquish his hold, daring them to touch Asher again. He’d light it up, burn the safeties out of it, until it fizzed and popped, until it turned on the person wielding it. He’d done it before, at the citadel on Erden to Corporal Zag’s unit. He’d scorched them for daring to threaten his friends. He’d do more than that to these cogs, to these men who dared touch Asher, who dared to make Asher grovel in the wet earth.

  The big man narrowed his eyes and cursed. He jimmied the handle, checked the power source, and cursed again when the tip wouldn’t light.

  “Must be your lucky day,” he snarled at Asher.

  Asher tossed a glance over his shoulder, scanning the tree line. “Must be,” he said, voice flat.

  Ren shuddered as Asher’s hot gaze passed over his hiding place. Could he see Ren? Could he feel his presence?

  “Shut up!” The big man gave Asher a shove. “Back to the cell with you.”

  “Traitors get their own special private rooms.” The group laughed.

  Asher turned away, but not without one last, longing look at the tree line. He hopped in the back with the cargo while the others piled in the front. They sped off in a puff of smoke and a spray of dirt.

  Ren and Ollie emerged from their hiding place.

  “We’re rescuing him. Tonight.”

  Ollie nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Ren turned, stride determined, expression grim, star throbbing in his middle, and stalked back the way they’d come. He burned with anger and with strength. He’d save Asher as Asher had saved him. No one would stop him. Then they’d scorch a brilliant contrail through the planet’s dense sky and leave the Phoenix Corps behind in a pile of ash.

  5

  Ren sank into the captain’s chair despite the look he received from Rowan. He had to. His atrophied legs and torso, exhausted from the trek to and from the Phoenix Corps encampment, couldn’t hold him up much longer.

  On the screen in front of them flashed the information he’d secured from the scouting mission. Asher could be housed anywhere in the camp, but he was there. Ren had seen him, muddied and bleeding, but beautiful all the same. Based on the camp layout and the strong forcefield signature emanating from a small building toward the center, they’d guessed that was Asher’s probable whereabouts.

  Darby sauntered onto the bridge as she bit into a piece of fruit she’d snagged from the bowl in the common area. She chewed loudly as she peered over Lucas’s shoulder at the map of the encampment on the vid screen. Her knee bumped Ren’s leg. He grimaced from the flash of pain and inched away.

  “We need a diversion,” Rowan said, pointing to the map. “To draw everyone away from the cell.”

  “I’m good at diversions,” Darby said, taking another bite.

  Ren tilted his head. “This isn’t the kind of diversion we used to get the data pad.”

  “Nah, that won’t work.” She pointed to the power generator. “You need to take that out.”

  Rowan arched an eyebrow. “Take it out?”

  Crunching, Darby nodded. “Yeah. Blow it up. Boom!” She made a motion with her hands that Ren guessed was supposed to be an explosion.

  “Can you do that?”

  She glanced at Ren. “Yes, and so can you. You can do it with your science-magic.”

  “Ren will have other concerns than blowing things up. He’ll need his strength to disable the perimeter alarms and lower the forcefields and then to transport us since we won’t be able to fly out.” Rowan leveled a stare at Darby. “So, are you willing?”

  Darby took another bite. “Oh, yeah. I love blowing things up.”

  “Now,” Rowan tapped her lips, “how to get in.”

  “Capture,” Ren said.

  Rowan’s eyes widened. The group shifted their attention to him. Rowan caught on first.

  “No.”

  “Yes. They’ll take me to the cell, and I can power down the forcefields while Darby creates a diversion.”

  “No, Ren. No. You can’t guarantee they’ll take you to the right building. They may kill you on the spot.”

  “They can’t.”

  “They have. Stars, Ren, are you addled?”

  “I can do it.” In defiance, Ren straightened from his sprawl. His joints protested, and he bit his lip to keep from grimacing. “I need to do it. It’s the best way to guarantee Asher’s location. And I’d rather risk myself than any of you.”

  “You’re still recovering,” Penelope said gently. “Maybe you should stay on the outskirts and do what you need to from afar.”

  “I can’t,” Ren said. “I need to be close to—”

  “That’s a coggin’ lie.” Rowan crossed her arms. “We all know you don’t have to be in the vicinity to do what you need to.”

  Ren gritted his teeth. “I do this time.”

  Ollie and Lucas exchanged a glance and backed away.

  Rowan huffed, her green eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned. “Don’t think you have a monopoly on wanting to free Ash. He’s my brother. He’s been a friend to this crew for years. You aren’t the only one who cares about what happens here. You aren’t the only one who loves him.”

  Ren shot to his feet. “But I’m the one who put him there!” His legs quivered; his muscles strained to keep him upright. “It was my stupid decisions. My altered perceptions. My mistakes that forced Asher to give himself up to save me.” Ren’s eyes watered, and he scrubbed the tears away with the heel of his palm. Exhaustion pulled at him, and pain throbbed from his side to combine with the swirling emotions he struggled to keep in check. His chest heaved; his breathing hitched. “I need to save him.”

  “Ren,” Rowan said softly, “after everything that’s happened, I can’t ask you to be taken captive.”

  “I’m volunteering.” Ren’s voice wavered.

  “What if it triggers a panic attack? What if they beat you? You couldn’t take that right now. What if they use iron shackles instead of a forcefield?”

  All color drained from Ren’s face, and he fell back into the chair. He opened his mouth, but he had no response, much less any air.

  “Then we’ll intervene,” Ollie said. “We’ll have a solid plan B in our pocket. But Ren is right. He can disable weapons and tech and has a better chance than any of us. This is the best way.”

  Rowan slammed her fist on the console. The image of the camp wavered. “I know it’s probably the best way, but I will not give up one crew member for another, no matter who they are. I’m not losing anyone else. I can’t lose anyone else!” Her composure fractured. Her expression crumpled; her bottom lip trembled. Strands of hair escaped from her braid. Silence descended on the deck, and the only sound was Rowan’s harsh breathing. She turned away from them and bowed her head.

  “Rowan,” Penelope said softly, but Rowan held up her hand and stopped her.

  She shuddered, then turned, eyes red, but seeming collected, to address them. “I apologize for my outburst.” She rested her hands on her hips. “And if you are bent on following this course of action, I advise that we at least rest for a day. And then we’ll go. Ren can barely stand.”

  Ren shook his head. “No,” he said cautiously, twisting his fingers, “we go tonight. We can’t let Asher stay there any longer. Not after what Ollie and I saw.”

  Ollie sighed, then clenched his fists. “Captain, I agree with Ren.”

  Lucas shrugged. “Well, you won’t have me complaining about getting off this humid, frightening rock.”

  Rowan frowned and threw up her hands. “I guess it was my mistake to think I had any control over this crew anymore.”

  “If it’s any consolation,” Darby said, crunching a mouthful of fruit, “I don’t think you had control to begin with.”<
br />
  Rowan turned a murderous glare on Darby, and Darby shrank back to hide behind Ren.

  “Anyway,” Lucas said, bringing the conversation back to topic, “the sooner we leave the better. The populace here aren’t keen on the Corps, and there are grumblings.”

  Ren perked up. “What do you mean?”

  “When Rowan and I were in the city, we hit up a bar and listened. The citizens aren’t happy the Corps is here, and there have already been a few scuffles between soldiers and townsfolk.”

  Rowan cleared her throat. “We’ll use it to our advantage. Maybe the Corps will think our diversion was caused by the locals. It doesn’t hurt that they’ll capture a duster lurking around.” She pinned Ren with an intense stare.

  Ren’s throat went dry, and he squirmed. The full implication of their plan was settling in, and with it, all the things that could potentially go wrong. But what choice did they have? He wouldn’t leave Asher there any longer.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said to the unasked question. He hoped he wasn’t lying.

  _

  Ren approached the camp with his cloak pulled tight around his body and the hood pulled up to cover his face. The night had darkened considerably. The moons had moved, and only a few stars were visible behind wispy clouds. The air sat heavy and humid in Ren’s lungs. As he walked the road, his boots sank in the clinging mud and panic swelled in his chest. His throat tightened, and his breath whistled as if he sucked through a straw.

  “You okay, Ren?” Rowan’s voice came over the comm clipped to the hood of his cloak.

  He wasn’t. Everything hurt. Every joint creaked and protested as he moved. Every thump of his heart echoed in his temple. Every second out in the open made his skin crawl. Every pulse of electricity scorched through his veins.

  “I’m fine,” he rasped.

  “Are you sure?”

  Ren closed his eyes and sought out the nearest perimeter alarm. He found it a few feet away and set it off. Then he shut down all the others for Ollie and Darby. No turning back now. He stopped at the edge and waited.

  “Yes. Alarms are down.”

  “Remain calm.” Ollie’s voice was a comfort in his ear. “Darby and I are nearby.”

  “I know.”

  Ren stilled and waited. Soon the thump of approaching boots sounded, and the chatter of voices filled his ears. He crossed the perimeter line and ducked his head.

  “Who are you?” Ren peeked from below the hood. The voice came from the large soldier who had kicked Asher. Ren bit his lip and fought the urge to latch on to the pulse gun in the soldier’s holster and exact revenge. Instead he held his body still. A beating like Asher had taken earlier would crush Ren in his still-healing state, and then they would need to enact their plan B. That plan was haphazard at best and put Ollie at risk—something Ren wouldn’t allow.

  The soldier neared and slowed. He squinted at Ren and stopped a few feet away. Another soldier flanked him, and his comm crackled on his chest.

  “What is it? Another animal? Or did it short out with the rain?”

  “Some duster,” he responded. He lifted his chin. “Are you going to answer me? Who are you? What are doing around here?”

  Ren unclenched his hands. “No one and nothing.”

  “Yeah, right. Are you selling something? Or are you snooping? Because we’re not buying. And if you’re snooping, well…” He pulled out his weapon and hefted it in his hand. “We’ve already had some problems with you backward mud dwellers.”

  When Ren didn’t respond, the guard pushed him hard in the arm with the tip of the pulse gun. Ren wobbled and took a step back. “Don’t.”

  “Or what?” He huffed. “You going to fight me, little duster? You’re obviously too foolish to stay away from where you’re not wanted.”

  Ren didn’t speak. His throat closed at the unwanted touch. His pulse sped beneath his skin. His chest tightened.

  “Go away and don’t snoop unless you want trouble.”

  Ren’s comm crackled. “You have to do something for him to take you,” Ollie’s voice was muffled, but even and sure. “Insult him.”

  “What was that?” The guard stepped forward and grabbed Ren’s upper arm in his meaty grip. “Do you have a comm? What is this?” He ripped Ren’s hood back and snatched the device clipped to the fabric. “What are you up to?”

  Ren swallowed. “I… I don’t….”

  “Do you think we’re addled? That we don’t know about your little duster resistance?”

  Ren’s focus zeroed down to where the guard’s hand grabbed him. His senses fuzzed. Static filled his head. His vision grayed at the edges. He closed his eyes and reached out for tech. He latched onto their data pads. He took comfort in the circuits and bled into them, surging through and burning out the wires.

  The guard shoved Ren toward his subordinate. “Take him to the cells. I’ll go report.”

  Ren tripped and landed on his hands and knees. The charge of a baton reverberated in his veins as the tip pushed hard against his ribs. He opened his eyes. His fingers curled in the sticky earth.

  “Get up.”

  Staggering to his feet, Ren complied. Head ducked, his hood hanging in his eyes, Ren meekly followed. Moving farther into the camp, Ren noted the pole lights in various areas. Finding one near the main generator, Ren reached out and cut it off.

  “Cheap lights,” his captor muttered. “Always shorting in the cogging rain.”

  Ren took that as permission to cut out a few more.

  The soldier led Ren to the building in the middle of the camp and scanned his silver tags in the reader. The door swung open. He grabbed Ren by the back of the neck and pushed him over the threshold.

  “Dim duster,” he spat as he manhandled him into the building. He pushed him down a few corridors and into a room with two forcefield cells. Ren stifled the hysterical laughter that bubbled in his throat at the irony and kept his head down as they pushed him into the electric cage.

  He tripped and landed hard on the wood floor, and dust from the hay wafted into his face. Ren sneezed, and the soldier laughed.

  “You’ve got a roommate for the night, Private. We’ll figure out what to do with witless dusters who snoop in the morning.”

  The forcefield went up around him; the hum buzzed in his chest, under his skin. Once the soldier left, Ren sat up and rubbed his sleeve over his face while keeping his back turned to the other occupant of the room.

  Asher sighed. “Sorry for them. They’re not exactly the pinnacle of Phoenix Corps decorum.”

  Ren closed his eyes and allowed Asher’s voice to soothe him. The anxiety that had swelled in him during the encounter gradually bled away, like the tide receding from the beach, a slow ebb and flow, until he calmed. He had made it. Asher was next to him. Anything else could transpire and it would be fine because Asher would be by his side.

  Asher cleared his throat. “Hey, are you okay? Don’t be afraid. They’ll release you in the morning.”

  Ren stood and turned, wearing a smile so wide his cheeks hurt. A tear spilled down his cheek. His body filled with warmth and happiness, and he was going to burst. “We won’t be here in the morning.”

  The gasp was immediate, and Asher stumbled away from their shared wall. “Ren?”

  Asher’s face was smudged with dirt, but his green eyes were bright despite the mud smeared in his hair. Dark circles spread like bruises beneath his eyes, and the sharp cut of cheekbones spoke of harsh weeks.

  Ren moved forward and pulled his hood away. With a thought, he powered down the forcefields, leaving nothing between them except the musty air and the thick memories from the last time they parted. He reached out a trembling hand. His star instinctively sought out the mechanism in Asher’s shoulder and tingled through it, inspecting the joint; a blueprint of the metal fused with bone lit behind Ren’s eyes. Nothi
ng appeared damaged despite the beating Asher had endured.

  Ren’s fingertips grazed Asher’s jawline, then across the line of his cheek, until they caressed the soft skin of Asher’s ear and his palm cradled Asher’s face.

  “Ash.” Ren said his name on a sigh. “Oh, Ash, I’ve missed—”

  Ren’s words were cut off by Asher’s mouth on his. His hand cupping Ren’s face was gentle, but his arm wrapped around Ren’s waist in an iron grip and pulled him tight enough to bruise. Ren kissed back. His loneliness and grief and relief at finally finding Asher manifested in every rough pass of his lips. He brimmed with emotion—good and bad, light and dark—his body and spirit were bursting and overcome. Power crackled in the air, and goosebumps bloomed over his skin despite the stifling heat and the tight grasp of Asher’s hands. They kissed, needy and frantic, as if they were each other’s air and life and everything good in the world. Ren didn’t pull away despite the need to talk, to plan their getaway. Instead he allowed Asher to back him against the wall and devour his mouth with the same intensity he did everything else.

  Asher finally broke the kiss but didn’t move away. He buried his face in Ren’s neck; his breath was a hot, rhythmic brush on Ren’s skin. He trembled when Ren clutched his body in a desperate embrace.

  “You’re alive,” Asher said, voice breaking. He cradled the back of Ren’s neck with his hand; his fingers scratched through the short hair at Ren’s nape. “You’re alive. You’re alive and you’re here.”

  Ren’s stomach swooped, and his throat clogged with tears. “I thought you knew that.”

  “You were when I left, but I didn’t know. I didn’t know if Pen was going to be able to save you. If you were going to wake up.”

  “I’m alive,” Ren said. He patted Asher’s hair. “And you’re found. And we’re getting out of here.”

  Asher pulled back and placed his hands on Ren’s shoulders. “What the cogs are you doing here?” he said, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. “You’re risking yourself. You could be anywhere. You had your freedom.”

  Ren took Asher’s hand and threaded their fingers. “What’s freedom without you?”