by F. T. Lukens
“Power,” Asher said.
“No.” Ren shook his head. He shared a look with Ollie. “Millicent left Crei because of the opportunity to escape her situation. Power isn’t what drives her.”
“What is it then? It’s not for anyone’s benefit but her own. That much is obvious.”
“You’re right on that front,” Ren said as Asher drummed his fingers on Ren’s shin. “She’s not in it to make friends.”
Ollie frowned. “She wants freedom.”
“She doesn’t want to be confined to a single drift. She was confined on Crei, in more ways than one. She wants to move freely and by taking over several drifts she’s able to maneuver.” Ren laid his hand over Asher’s, stilling the movement. “She’s building a base.”
Asher squeezed Ren’s hand.
“What does this mean for us?” Rowan paced, her boot heels clicking.
Asher sighed. “It means we can’t run and hide.”
Ren threaded his fingers with Asher’s. “The best way for a star host to be able to have freedom from the Corps and from Vos is to destroy both the Corps and Vos.”
“We have to stop her,” Ollie said.
“I agree.” Darby propped her head on her crossed knees and put her boots back on the table. “I don’t want to live through another Phoebus and, as much fun as Echo was, I don’t think the hilarity would hold when she decides to vent everyone because being a ruler doesn’t suit her anymore.”
“What can we do to thwart someone who can control tech and makes our own technopath ill when they interact?” Rowan asked more to herself than the group.
Ren rubbed his eyes. “Free Abiathar.”
Rowan stopped pacing. “What? Free that cog? So he can turn you against us? I don’t think so.”
“He’s in Perilous Space with Liam. It’s worth a try.”
“Or we could get an ancient gun like Zag did and shoot her. It worked on Ren.” Ren narrowed his eyes at Lucas, and Lucas raised his hands. “What? It’s a valid option. Unsettling!”
Penelope raised her hand. “Maybe we should figure out a way for Ren to be able to… override Millicent? Do you think that might be possible?”
Asher resumed his rubbing of Ren’s legs with more focus and with more pressure. Ren bit off a gasp when Asher’s fingers dug into a tender spot on his calf.
Ren cleared his throat. “I could try?”
“Sorry, Ren,” Asher said with a frown, “but that’s not a good enough plan. That’s not a plan at all. We don’t even know what we’re going to do when we get to the prison.”
“We’re puttering in that direction, right now,” Lucas said. “In case anyone cares.”
Rowan scrubbed her hands over her face, then dropped them, fists clenched.
“We need to talk to Mother,” Rowan said.
Asher recoiled into the cushions. “Do we have to?”
“I’m missing something,” Darby said. “Who is your mother?”
Rowan and Asher shared a glance, and Rowan tugged on her braid. “Our mother is the esteemed Councilor Morgan of the Drift Alliance.”
“Your mother is a politician?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”
Rowan rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately. She has to know what is happening to the drifts. And if what those cogs said was true, if Millicent vented those Corps soldiers, Mother needs to know that as well. She can pass the information on to VanMeerten.”
Asher laughed without humor. “Do you think she’ll tell the general anything? They hate each other.”
Rowan shrugged. “It’s worth a try. Especially if Mother can send help. Maybe she can convince the Corps to release the prisoners in Perilous Space without us having to get involved.”
Ren raised an eyebrow. “Does she even know what they’re using Perilous Space for? And last time we talked to your mother, before she met me, she didn’t even believe people like me existed. Now, we’re going to tell her Millicent is killing people and taking over drifts? And that’s somehow going to convince her to allow the star hosts in Perilous Space to be released?”
“You have to admit that you are farfetched,” Darby chimed.
Ren glared.
“What?”
Lucas stood. “I’ll get the comm set up.”
“I’ll get ready.” Asher gently pushed Ren’s legs from his lap. He shot him an apologetic smile, then kissed Ren’s cheek.
Ren’s heart raced, and his blush deepened.
Darby whistled and grinned ear to ear. She raised both eyebrows in quick succession and laughed at Ren’s mortified expression. Asher made an impolite gesture with his fingers when he left the room.
“Rude!” she called after him.
Ren buried his face in his hands.
_
Ren stood at Asher’s shoulder while he and Rowan prepared to face their mother. Rowan brushed imaginary lint from Asher’s shirt. Throat bobbing and jaw working, Asher swept the ends of his blond hair from his forehead.
Ren tentatively placed his hand on Asher’s shoulder and squeezed.
“You should be out of sight,” Asher said and immediately pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, that came out badly. But you shouldn’t be where they can see you.”
Ren admitted it stung, but he understood. By all accounts, he was dead, and they needed to keep it that way. “I’ll be right over there.”
“Okay you two, show time. Best smiles,” Lucas said, pressing buttons and flipping switches.
Ren left the bridge but hid behind the doorway. He tucked himself into the small space at the top of the stairs between the sliding door and the entrance. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. His stomach flip-flopped when he reached into the systems.
He boosted the signal as Lucas put in a message request with the councilor. Through the comm system and the vid feeds, the screen was a blanket of interference and snow until the ship connected and a clear picture slowly sharpened.
Councilor Morgan looked remarkably like her children. She had the same light-blonde hair and the same vibrant green eyes. She had their strong jaws and straight noses and light brows. Wrinkles spread out from the corners of her eyes, and she had frown lines around her mouth. She was beautiful and strong and terrifying when she forced a smile at her children.
“Good morning, my loves,” Councilor Morgan said as she smoothed her hair from her eyes. “I haven’t heard from you in months. Asher, I thought you were back with the Corps.”
“I left,” he said flatly.
Her smile didn’t move, but her eyes gave her away. “Is that wise? They’ll court-martial you.”
“I’m fine.”
Her smiled wavered. “I’m sorry about what happened to your little friend. I know he was dear to you.”
Asher didn’t move; his expression seemed frozen. “He was. I loved him.”
Ren’s breath caught. Warmth was like a live wire in his middle, and he shivered and pressed a smile into his knees. The fabric of his trousers felt coarse against his mouth.
Councilor Morgan’s expression remained placid. She changed the subject. “And Rowan? Still drifting from place to place with those friends of yours?”
Rowan’s smile was frightening. “Yes, Mother. Actually, I wanted to talk with you about that. We’ve recently been to Echo drift and—”
“Oh? You’re far out in the cluster, my dear. I’ve not been to Echo in years. It’s almost as quaint as the planets Asher is fond of.”
“Have you heard anything about Echo? Or about Phoebus? Or any others?”
Their mother shook her head. “No, dears. You understand there are so many drifts these days that it’s difficult to keep up with them all. Echo and Phoebus are so small and far out from Mykonos. Why? Are they having trouble?” Her
eyes flitted to stare at something off screen.
Rowan and Asher shared an uneasy glance.
“Yes,” Asher said.
Councilor Morgan’s gaze slid off screen again, and Rowan stepped forward.
“Who’s there with you, Mother?”
“What?” Her manicured fingers rested against her throat. “No one is here with me.”
“Don’t lie to us. Is it Corps? Vos? That girl Millicent?”
She sighed and put her hands on her hips, all pretentions vanishing. “You’re too perceptive for your own good.” She addressed the individual off screen. “Well, Grace, might as well come out from hiding.”
Grace?
A shadow moved across the screen, and Ren clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp.
She looked different with her iron-gray hair falling around her shoulders rather than pulled back in a severe bun. Her scar was unmistakable, stretching from her ear, down the line of her jaw, then stopping at her chin. She wasn’t wearing her uniform, and the shapeless dress she wore made her appear softer than normal, though her gaze was as sharp as ever.
Asher jolted back. Ren jerked, and moved to run to Asher’s side, but stopped himself. Asher made a movement with his hand, and Ren recognized it as a signal to stay put. He crouched behind the door.
“Private Morgan,” VanMeerten said, peering down her nose. Her eyes seemed hard and glinting with disapproval. She swished a glass of wine; the red liquid swirled like blood. “There you are. The last I had heard, you were lost in a commotion on Bara that was blamed on the residents of the nearby city. Now I must conclude that it was your sister who destroyed the generators and aided in your desertion. I’ll be issuing a warrant for both of your arrests.”
“You will do no such thing, Grace.” Councilor Morgan slammed her hand on the table. Her tone dripped with venom as she continued. “You leave my children alone. Whatever truce is between us extends to them.”
VanMeerten eyed Asher and Rowan. “You’re lucky your mother has the means and power to stay my hand for the time being, but, as far as I’m concerned, you’re a deserter and a traitor, Asher, and you, Rowan, are a pirate.”
Rowan lifted her chin. “And you’re a bitch, but name-calling isn’t going to bring us any closer to figuring out how to stop the attacks on the drifts. We’ve encountered two drifts that have been sieged by zealots.”
VanMeerten set her glass of wine on the councilor’s desk. “No need to worry. We have the situation well in hand.”
“Right,” Asher said. “And how do you plan to stop her? Are you going to use the prisoners in Perilous Space to do so? I know you have someone there that can manipulate others with his voice. His name is Abiathar, if you’ve forgotten. We captured him on Mykonos.”
“Why would we need to utilize that ancient cog?”
“Oh, do you have another trick up your sleeve? Is Zag going to hide around a corner and shoot her with an ancient projectile, like you did Ren? Kill her from a distance? Like a coward?”
VanMeerten’s eyes flashed. “I don’t have to justify Corps decisions to you.”
“No, you don’t.” Asher strode forward, hands clenched. “That’s the problem. You have no accountability to anyone and indiscriminately make decisions that affect others with no regard to the consequences on dusters and drifters alike!” His chest heaved. His voice rose, banged through the silence, echoed around the small area of the bridge. “You’re the real villain.”
“How dare you lecture me! That star host was dangerous. He was bringing that tunnel down around you all, and you would have let him.”
“He was afraid.”
“He was wild and out of control. He was possessed!”
“He was a teenager!” Asher pointed a shaking finger. “He was doing the best he knew how to do. He was frightened and unsure and only wanted to go home, but he couldn’t, because the Corps had taken that home away. And you’ve done the same to others, and now they’re rebelling and trying to make a safe haven for themselves. You’re not the only one to blame, but you’ve as much of the burden to shoulder as anyone else.”
“We already have the suspect in custody.” She placed her hands on the table and loomed over them. “I won’t deny that you’re passionate, but its best to know the facts before you jump onto a soap box.”
Asher bristled and shrugged off Rowan’s placating touch to his shoulder.
Councilor Morgan spread her hands; her mouth twisted into a frown. “Asher and Rowan, please, leave this business to the general and myself. We are aware of the situation in the outlier drifts. We have no plans to allow it to escalate further. You two should find a place to relax for a few weeks while we rid the drifts of these ridiculous dusters and their dreams of grandeur.”
Asher didn’t move, but Rowan knuckled her eyes in exasperation.
“Mother, we’re dealing with something you don’t seem to understand.”
“Who do you have in custody?” Asher asked.
“Don’t answer,” VanMeerten snapped. “That’s need-to-know, and a deserter doesn’t need to know.”
Rowan threw up her hands. “Mother—”
“Rowan, please, don’t do anything rash.” Councilor Morgan picked up her own wine glass. “I know it’s been a tough few weeks for the both of you. Please find a nice spot to rest. I’ll send you the credits to cover the cost, of the whole crew even, for you to have a nice relaxing vacation.”
“A vacation? Are you cogging—”
“Cut it off,” Asher said, waving his hand to Lucas. “Cut it off.”
The screen went dark. Ren pulled out of the systems and hurried through the entranceway to Asher’s side.
“Well,” Lucas said with false cheer, “at least they don’t hate each other anymore. That’s something, right?”
Rowan looked to the ceiling. Asher shook his head and sighed.
“Don’t do anything rash,” Rowan muttered, echoing their mother’s words. “A vacation. A vacation! And offering to pay for it! Who does that woman think I am? I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen! I don’t need her credits!” She wagged her finger in Ren’s face. “We’re going to Perilous Space. We’re going to find your brother. And we’re going to stop Millicent. I swear to the stars, a vacation!” Rowan stalked off, yelling over her shoulder. “I’ll tell the others!”
Lucas shot to his feet and followed, loudly talking about coordinates and space routes and the estimated time to arrival.
Asher leaned hard against Ren’s side. “I feel a headache coming.”
“Come along, then.” Ren threaded their fingers and gently tugged Asher off the bridge and down the hallway.
_
Asher closed the door behind them and leaned against it, allowing his head to fall back against the metal. “Finally, we’re alone.”
Ren smiled. “Too much?”
“My mother is always headache-inducing, not to mention the general. Also, Darby talks more than Pen and Lucas combined. Once you get her going she won’t stop.”
“Darby is something.”
“She is. You didn’t tell me she tried to steal the Star Stream out from under you.”
“I was kind of passed out on the deck and pretended to be a ship. Not my most brilliant moment and not something I’d want to share with the cute guy who likes me.”
Asher ducked his head and laughed. “You forget that I met you in a cell. I’ve seen it all, and you’re not going to scare me off.”
Ren sobered. “Thank you.” He shucked off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. “Thank you for what you said to your mother. I needed to hear that.”
“You’re not going to scare me away, Ren. I’m with you.” Asher crossed the room and placed his large hands on the jut of Ren’s hips. He rested his forehead against Ren’s, and his green eyes fluttered closed. “It’s going to tak
e much more than a little freaky science-magic and glow-action to scare me away.”
Ren looped his arms over Asher’s shoulders. “And I’m with you. Always. I messed up before, but not again. You’re all I have.”
Asher huffed. “That’s not true. I think Rowan likes you more than she likes me. Ollie certainly does. And Darby is in awe of you.”
“Rowan would fight the universe with her bare fists for you; don’t start.”
Chuckling, Asher nuzzled his nose along the line of Ren’s jaw up to his ear. “She might.” He kissed the line of Ren’s cheekbone.
Ren let out a stuttered breath. “She would.”
“You too are scarily alike. Maybe that’s why I fell for you.” Asher’s grip on Ren’s waist tightened. “Do you miss your family? Do you miss Erden?”
“No,” Ren lied. He missed his brother, but that was no secret. Sometimes, in the night, when memories filled the spaces in his head, Ren missed the simplicity of the village: the sense of knowing where he belonged; the structure and familiarity of the homes and the lake and the work; the seemingly petty village politics. He missed his mother—the person he had thought she was, not the one he knew now. He missed the secret visions of his father, the man he’d never met. He missed the small moments when his stepfather treated him like a son. He missed Jakob, the brash naïve boy who carried himself like royalty, and he missed the man he’d become, the protective and supportive friend. He missed Sorcha, the beautiful girl with the spine of steel, the fiery leader he’d left behind to rule. “No, I always wanted to be in space and here I am. I may miss a few things, like the smell of the earth after the rain and the sunrise over the lake. But I’m happy the Star Stream is my home now. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“You’re my home.”
The sound of that was small and vulnerable, and Ren’s heart ached. He tucked Asher closer in his arms, and slid one hand into the thick strands of Asher’s blond hair. “I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”
Asher nodded. “Good plan.”
“Come on.”
They dressed for bed and climbed into the small bunk together. Asher curled on his side and Ren spooned around him. His arm wrapped around Asher’s body; his palm pressed against Asher’s chest so the steady beat of his heart was beneath Ren’s hand.
