by Rebecca Rode
“Try that again, and you’ll deserve what you get,” the woman snapped. She looked Ember up and down for a moment, then stalked away.
Ember examined the door again, looking for a weakness in its defenses. The sensors lined the entire width and length of the door. Taking out one or two wouldn’t do it. She was considering trying again when the officer returned with two guards. They trotted in and stopped in front of Ember, stunners raised.
Ember stiffened. She should have waited for the woman to leave first. Maybe if she returned later . . .
“Hold out your band,” the officer said. Ember complied and held her arm extended while the soldier scanned it.
“Just as I thought. You’re supposed to be in phase-one testing right now, flicker. Deck 14, B-72.” The officer gestured with her stunner. “We’ll escort you. Someone has to make sure you get there without tripping over any more giant, clearly-marked emergency lines.”
One of the guards snickered at the officer’s joke, but he was tense as he took Ember’s arm. Did touching a flicker make him so nervous?
The officer strode toward the clear lift tube. Ember raised an eyebrow. If they weren’t arresting her, maybe her plan would actually work. Ember checked the time on her wristband. Surely she would have failed by now. She was almost twenty-five minutes late.
“I can’t wait,” she said.
Ember’s escort shoved her forward, making her stumble. “She’s one of yours,” the officer snapped at the guard waiting outside the door. “We caught her testing out the security measures on escape pod 32.”
“I got a little lost,” Ember said.
“Right,” the guard said sarcastically. He swiped his band and the door opened. “Get in there and find a seat.”
Ember grinned. She hadn’t even gotten a lecture. Maybe flickers were more feared than she’d thought. She filed the information away for later.
The meeting room was full of chairs filled mostly with bored-looking flicker recruits. Many of them turned toward the doorway, watching her with disapproval. There was no speaker, and the room was deathly silent.
“Interviews,” the guard said behind her, as if reading her thoughts. “Sit.” He shoved her inside, and the door closed behind her.
She ignored the watching eyes and found an empty seat, then settled in for a what she figured would be a long wait. She caught a glimpse of Eris sitting near the back, scowling at her. She seemed slightly more lucid now.
Six doors lined one side of the room, each with a single guard and a flicker waiting uncomfortably in front of it. Several empty seats were positioned at the front of the room, the first filled by a long-legged Talon. The chair was far too short for her, and her knees were practically folded up to her head, which gave her an eerie spiderlike look. The woman glowered at Ember.
It seemed the only people bothered by Ember’s tardiness didn’t have the power to do much about it. Her rebellion had been pointless.
The six doors began to open, and the next flickers were admitted. As they disappeared into what had to be a small, closet-sized room, Talon called out more names. Various flickers stood as their names were called, some shaky and nervous, others more confident. Ember rubbed the sleep from her eyes, wishing they could have scheduled a bit better. It would take hours for six interviewers to get through all these people. Why did they have to sit there and wait because of the Empire’s poor planning? And what exactly was this supposed to accomplish? Surely the Empire already knew everything about each person. Stefan had said most were raised on stations preparing for this.
Mar crossed the room and sat next to her. “I can’t believe you did that,” she whispered. “Do you realize how dangerous that was?”
“What?”
“Getting here so late. I know you did it on purpose because I saw you standing in the corridor. I was almost late too.” Her cheeks were still flushed, probably from her dash across the station.
Ember shrugged. “Nobody seems to care.”
“Oh, the interviewers will care. They look for every opportunity to trim the numbers. There are only so many slots, and they give them to the higher families first.” She sighed. “I can’t decide which I fear more, failing or passing.”
Six more names were called out. People stood and walked through the doors.
“Neither one sounds all that appealing,” Ember admitted. She looked around the room at the nervous smiles and stiff postures of the other recruits. Stefan had called this a competition. Was Mar right about what failing meant? “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, well, the Empire obviously thinks otherwise.” She sat back and sighed. “Let’s talk about something else. My stomach is doing flips here. So what’s it like to be a gypsy?”
“Roma,” Ember corrected.
“You descendants of the Romans? I watched a special on the Roman Empire of Earth once. It was so interesting.”
She paused. “Not exactly.” That was a common mistake. Her people were travelers with blood from a dozen ancient countries. Ironically, they had very little Roman ancestry. She opened her mouth to explain it to Mar, but the girl had already moved on.
“I noticed Stefan has taken a liking to you.” There was a question in her words.
Ember glanced across the room. Stefan was talking to one of his friends. He looked calm and unruffled.
“I never welcomed his attention,” Ember muttered.
“Maybe that’s why he likes you, then. Galaxy knows he’s had enough women throwing themselves at him. Maybe you were a refreshing challenge.”
I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, Stefan had said. It was touching that he’d felt responsible, but irritating that he’d taken her under his wing like a lost baby chick—and then tried to distance himself from her.
I don’t care, she reminded herself. I don’t need him, and I never will.
Five more names were called, then a pause. “Gypsy.”
“Sorry,” Mar whispered as Ember stood. She wasn’t sure whether the girl was apologizing for the lack of tact in the word gypsy or the fact Ember had been called up so early.
The guard practically shoved her inside the tiny room. Ember let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. A table sat in the middle, with a chair on either side. Her interviewer had his hands folded on his lap.
Commander Kane.
12
This is the one who was thirty-four minutes late, sir,” the guard said from behind her. “Would you like me to send her with the failed group?”
“Not yet. Dismissed.”
The guard complied, and the door slid shut, leaving Ember alone with the man who had stripped her of everything she loved. All the loneliness and worry she’d experienced over the past few days hardened, pooling into a single emotion. Anger.
“Sit.”
She folded her arms and remained standing.
His mouth twisted, but he didn’t pursue it. “You will answer my questions immediately and efficiently. Tell me your nationality, parents’ names, their siblings, and any relatives, including cousins. Then we’ll move on to your medical history.”
The Empire already knew all that. This had to be a formality. “I’m not cooperating until you send me home.”
He looked up from the tablet in his hands, his face darkening. This man wasn’t used to being opposed. Something fluttered in Ember’s stomach, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact. However powerful Kane was, he couldn’t force her to do anything.
“Home.” He smirked. “Your chief gave you to me. I own you. I donated you to the Empire for testing. If you fail, you fall back into my hands.”
The words stabbed her in the gut, but she stood her ground. “The first emperor outlawed slavery eighty years ago. You can’t own a person.”
The high commander gave her a long look, and for a moment Ember wondered if he would stand and strike her down. Surely he had the authority to do whatever he wanted. But he just leaned forward, his voice low and deep. “You can own a planet, gypsy girl. And those who own it
, rule it. I have thirty thousand loyal citizens now, and they’d be happy to train you in my service. You’re closer to failing than you know.”
“I’m not what the Empire wants. I think we both agree on that. And I’m a free citizen of the Empire just like anyone else, so I’ll be traveling to Earth with or without your permission.”
Now his mouth tugged upward. “You really think failed flickers get sent home?”
She went stiff, struggling to keep her face impassive. “Why wouldn’t they?”
The moment the words escaped her lips, she knew how naïve her question sounded. It was clear from the high commander’s bemused expression that he was thinking the same thing. “Security issues,” he said simply. “Not to mention the cost involved.”
“So it’s true. You kill flickers who fail.”
He chuckled. “Of course not. They’re useful in other ways, but we keep them under very tight security. We can’t have failed flickers running around breeding and being snatched up by the enemy to use against us. It’s hardly a secret that the emperor monitors your population very carefully for the safety of the realm.”
“What other ways?” she demanded. “What do you do with—”
“Enough,” he spat. “Your little stunt with the escape pod this morning is unforgiveable. You’re fortunate you didn’t try to open the door. You would have been killed on the spot. Now that you know what’s at stake, you will answer my questions. Are there other flickers in your family?”
She fingered the container of medicine in her jacket pocket. Kane knew her father. She’d have to choose her words carefully. “I’m not a flicker. I just read the cards for tourists, that’s all.”
“Not a flicker?” He exhaled in a burst, almost like it was a chuckle. “Fine, I’ll play your game, gypsy. You’re going to predict my future just like you did for young Stefan a few days ago.”
Had it only been days? It felt like months. “That was a performance. I made it up. Did a poor job of it, too.”
“I spent twelve years scouting your kind as a seeker. I know a flicker when I see one, and your reading of young Stefan was impressive. Refuse me, and I will fail you here and now. Like I said, failed flickers have their purpose.” He paused. “Particularly the women.”
Nausea swept through her as she realized what the officer was suggesting. The anger that had pooled in her stomach began to leak into her blood now. She welcomed it, letting it expand and fill her with power. She would never belong to this man.
Fine. If failing wasn’t an option, she’d just find another way off this ship and away from Kane’s greedy clutches.
Ember closed her eyes and began to hum, but she wasn’t gentle this time. She found his inner light and slammed into it, the memory of his sinister, suggestive smile singeing a hole into her mind. The light pulsed and fluttered.
She sifted through the man’s memories. Five older brothers and a sister. A woman in a white uniform holding an infant. A funeral. The emperor’s offer of a new position. Battle after battle. Kneeling at the emperor’s feet, watching the old man’s hands tremble with age. A more recent scene of Kane arguing with another high commander.
One light on the fringe pulsed brighter than the others. She reached out, hesitant, but the vision came to her before she could pull back.
* * *
High Commander Lazarus Kane stood gazing out the window at the battle beyond. It was like a giant chessboard, this battle. It had taken him years of fighting to finally understand the truth of it. Every living being was just a pawn waiting to be placed wherever the master liked.
Today he was the master.
Lazarus smiled and lifted a single finger, then pointed it at the largest enemy ship.
He would have liked it to explode, but the lights in the windows simply flickered and died. The starboard thrusters went next. His fighters, seeing the massive ship’s shields disabled, quickly swooped in to finish it off. Seconds later, a huge cloud of fire consumed the vessel.
He grinned again and pointed at the next ship.
The girl at his side flinched, but she was just another pawn too. An important piece. A queen, perhaps. He admired her slender form as she stood there, her dark eyes wide at the realization of what she had just done, her black hair falling forward into her face.
The emperor would be watching this battle with interest. He might even be excited at the prospect of ending the war in a single battle. But Lazarus’s plans extended far beyond destruction of the enemy. There was a greater prize to be won than the bits of glory given at the old man’s hand.
* * *
Ember yanked herself out of the vision with a gasp. She was on the floor, her chair overturned.
The commander calmly looked down upon her, but his eyes were bright with excitement. “Do you always react so dramatically, gypsy?”
She sat on the ground, trembling. That terrible image of Kane standing next to the window wouldn’t leave her—the way he’d pointed with no regard whatsoever for the lives he was taking.
And the very worst thing of all, the most horrifying twist she could imagine . . .
The girl at his side was Ember.
“Do you still deny your power, gypsy girl? It’s obvious you saw something.”
Ember’s voice came out hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. “You glory in death. You—you murder people and call yourself a hero!”
He dismissed her words with a flick of the hand. “We’re at war. The only difference between a hero and a villain is whose side you’re on.” He tapped his knuckles on the table, and the door whooshed open, revealing the waiting guard.
“Sir?”
“The girl appears a bit ill, so escort her to the medical bay. She was given a pill upon arrival, but I want a more thorough flush performed immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned on her. “Congratulations, gypsy girl. You’ve passed phase one.”
13
Ember stumbled out of the medical bay, hand on the wall to hold herself up.
“Get back in here,” the medic called out behind her. “You can’t walk around for another twenty minutes.”
She shook her head and straightened, burying the nausea inside her. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t. Ember had never been through such an invasive, terrible procedure. First they’d made her drink some horrible liquid, then she’d spent an hour in the bucket room—bathroom—vomiting. Along with the germs and bacteria, she also felt like she’d lost a liver and kidney.
Though that wasn’t nearly as bad as witnessing that terrible man’s future.
Her stomach churned at the memory, at the utter callousness Kane had displayed. She wished her mind could be cleared rather than her body. Her vision of Stefan kissing her was nothing compared to this.
Surely the stars were wrong about what awaited her. If she could just get home, none of it could happen. She had to focus on her goal.
But not right now. She just wanted to go back to her room and disappear into a blissful sleep. Even now her stomach was unsteady enough that she never wanted to eat again. Thank the stars she’d skipped breakfast.
Holding on to the rail, she slowly made her way down the corridor leading to the lift near her quarters. Two hallways later, she caught the scent of food and realized how near she was to the cafeteria. It was just ahead—and so was another trip to the bathroom if she didn’t get away from the smell. Holding her nose, she stumbled past the double doors.
“Hey, you passed.” Stefan approached and halted abruptly when he saw her face. “Whoa. What happened?”
She gritted her teeth. Why now, of all times? “Commander Kane felt a flush was in order.”
“Ah.” He nodded sympathetically. “I went through that when I was eight. By the look on your face, I’m guessing they haven’t improved the process any.”
She gripped the side rail more tightly and shook her head.
“I’ll help you to your room.” He took her arm and draped it over his sho
ulder. Somewhere from deep beneath the nausea, she realized Stefan was more toned than she’d thought.
No, she reminded herself. She was going home to marry a respectable Roma man. The future her gift had revealed could never be. Not if it meant fulfilling Kane’s future as well.
“But you’ll miss lunch,” she managed.
“I already ate.”
A lie. He’d been heading toward the cafeteria, not away from it, but she didn’t have the strength to argue. It was clear she’d never make it to her room on her own.
He placed his other hand on her waist, sending a shower of tingles up her spine. He was now supporting most of her weight.
“Is this all right?” he asked, sensing her discomfort. “I guess I could carry—”
“No,” she barked. “This is fine.”
“I was going to say I could help carry you to find a hoverchair,” he said, “but if this works . . .” He grinned as he continued to help her move forward.
It was several minutes before they reached the wing where the flickers’ quarters were situated. The silence between them was heavy yet comfortable. He seemed to sense that Ember wasn’t in the mood to talk. Two flickers Ember recognized from yesterday walked past them with raised eyebrows. Stefan greeted them casually, as if he escorted sick girls home all the time.
When they finally reached her door, she extracted herself from his arms and stood shakily on both feet. They held this time, but her nausea still threatened to manifest itself.
“I found a shipping department on deck thirty-three central,” he whispered. “In case you still need to mail your package. Not sure how expensive it is, but hopefully they deliver to Earth. I know you’re worried about your dad.”
“Thirty-three,” she repeated. “Thanks.”
The bitterness in her voice must have been evident, because he waited until a group of workers passed before he spoke again. “I know you don’t want to be here. But since you are, why not explore a bit? I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted a tour of the recreation deck.”
