Lunar Eclipse

by Gun Brooke

  “Kragh has a second weapon!” Tracks roared.

  As Beaux flew forward, she barely registered Tracks opening fire. She landed painfully on her knees next to Moon, who wasn’t moving. “No, no, no.” Pulling at the still body she had caressed only that morning, she dragged Moon away from the mess that used to be Drak. Bending over the still form, she listened for anything that would betray life in Moon. She pressed her fingertips against the artery on Moon’s neck, and at first, she couldn’t distinguish between her own tremors and a potential pulse, but eventually she detected a faint rhythm. Beaux looked frantically for a wound. Tugging the jacket open, she couldn’t tell at first, but then she touched the shirt and found the black fabric saturated with blood. “Oh, please.”

  “Let me see,” Somas said, joining her. He felt under Moon’s shirt and then sank back on his heels. “Beaux. I’m so sorry.”

  Beaux bent and pressed her lips against Moon’s forehead. “Please. Oh, please.” Holding her hands against the wound, she futilely tried to stop the blood, but it trickled between her fingers. Behind her, Nia was crying, and then she heard another entirely new sound. Dancer was howling, and his voice seemed to fill the air and drown everything else out. His grief was so obvious and profound, Beaux knew she would hear this sound in her dreams for the rest of her life.

  Something nudged her shoulder, and she swatted at it, thinking it was one of her crew trying to pull her to safety, away from Moon. Couldn’t they see she was still alive? She refused to let go of Moon until she’d drawn her last breath.

  The nudge returned, harder this time. Beaux fell sideways and furiously whipped her head around. “What the—” A large, golden, transparent hand shoved her farther aside. Beaux tried to get back to Moon, but this time Somas pulled her to the side.

  “Wait.” He pulled Beaux with him and sat down with her on the grass, restraining her when she single-mindedly tried to break free. “Just wait.”

  The being cupped its hands around Moon’s body and then lifted her. Another being, also golden, but a darker hue, approached and pushed its face close to the still form. It opened its narrow mouth and blew at the dying woman in their hands. Carefully, the second being peeled the shirt away and kept blowing at the wound.

  “What are they doing?” Nia whispered, her voice thick with tears.

  “Are they trying to heal her?” Tracks asked. He too sat down, and Beaux vaguely registered that his face was also wet. She felt her own cheeks. Yes. So was hers.

  Now the beings hummed, but this was yet another sound—light one second, dark the next. They appeared to be performing some ritual. The dark-golden one placed a digit in its mouth and bit down. Pulling it out, it let the golden substance drip onto Moon. Then they closed their hands around her and seemed to rock her as they moved their arms together in a strangely beautiful dance.

  Beaux was numb and could only stare at the unimaginable scene before her. Dancer had stopped howling and now came over to her, his legs unsteady as he slumped down and pushed his nose against her stomach. Beaux covered the top of his large head with her hands and just held him. It seemed the least she could do, and somehow comforting him made it possible for her to breathe.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Moon pressed her face against the small, round viewport. The pod was hurtling too fast toward the planet. She had been elated when she saw the planet appear on long-range sensors, but now she didn’t know what to do. The escape pod that had kept her alive for more than seven months in the vast coldness of intergalactic space could now become her tomb. Like a missile, it left orbit and headed for the northern hemisphere of the beautiful orb. If she couldn’t find a way to slow it down, it would incinerate as it entered the atmosphere. If she miraculously survived that danger, how would she make it slow down and not crash into the ground?

  Moon ran over to the console she’d familiarized herself with during all this time alone in space. The sensors were flickering, and she surmised something was malfunctioning. She took the binder from the shelf and browsed the section on troubleshooting with trembling fingers. Mostly it provided information about life support, food dispensers, climate controls, waste disposals, and docking procedures… Moon stopped browsing and blinked. Docking procedures. Wait. If she were to dock with something, that would mean slowing down first, right? She brought up the chapter about docking procedures and ran her fingertip, much steadier now, down the list of commands. Soon, she was punching in diagnostic commands while refusing to look out the viewport. If she did, she might freeze up from sheer terror.

  After Moon had completed all the measures she could take to ensure the pod would slow down enough not to kill her, she threw herself back into the chair and strapped herself in. The head strap hurt her skin as she had tightened it hardest of all, afraid of breaking her neck when the pod set down. She gripped the harness that crisscrossed over her chest tight and shut her eyes. Against her closed eyelids, she could see the flickering light of flames as the pod skidded along the atmosphere, then broke through it. Moon prayed the cooling surface on the pod would not fail her. She remembered how she’d been knocked about by debris when she jettisoned from the Utopia. The craft might have been damaged in ways she knew nothing about.

  As the pod neared the planet’s surface, she felt it lurch in different directions and was grateful for the snug harness. The sound the careening pod made grew from a screech to a roar, and Moon found herself screaming as fear and helplessness permeated her. She dared to open her eyes and looked toward the viewport, seeing what she thought were trees, mountains, and blue skies rush by. Wasn’t this still too fast? If it was, she couldn’t do anything about it.

  Moon closed her eyes again and conjured up the image of her mother. The way she remembered the mild-mannered woman who gave birth to her and managed to keep her until she was four and sold appeared like glimpses of images and fragmented sounds. Gentle hands, rough from hard work, would push Moon’s long hair from her face, brush it, and tie it back with a worn piece of fabric as a ribbon. The gentle voice would instill in Moon her full name and tell her to never forget. Loving arms would hold her, comfort her, and encourage her to remain true to herself.

  “Mama.” Moon’s tears overflowed, and she could see the expression of devastation on her mother’s face when the slave traders took her away. Still, her mother had smiled and mouthed, “Moon de Cruz. Remember that.” Moon laughed through the tears. At least, while aboard a pod set for destruction, she could give her mother that. She had lived as a free woman for seven months, and she had never forgotten her true name.

  Moon opened her eyes, saw tall trees through the windows, and then everything went black.

  * * *

  That weird sensation of floating was new. Not counting that time one of the passengers’ children had pushed her into a pool, she had never floated in her life. And where was the water?

  Moon looked up, but the piercing light made it impossible to keep her eyes open. In the background she could hear a faint humming sound, and now she did feel wetness against her. No, not wetness—humidity. Cool humidity that gave her goose bumps all over.

  The humming increased, and she thought the bright light was mellowing. Slowly Moon opened her eyes. Above her a face hovered, no, two faces, and their stark beauty made her gasp and pull back, but she couldn’t move. Something both humid and cool kept her in place. The faces tilted from side to side, and the golden eyes blinked slowly at her. They didn’t seem to mean her any harm, but rather appeared as if they were trying to figure her out.

  “Who are you?” Moon asked, stunned at how her voice echoed. Where was she?

  The faces looked back at each other and then at her again. One of them bent down, or did they raise her? Moon couldn’t tell. Pursing its thin lips, it began to blow against her body, which Moon only now realized was naked. Too shocked to bother, Moon felt the breath against every part of her, warming her.

  They kept blowing at her, and Moon was almost asleep, soothed by the
warmth, but then she was sinking, or perhaps falling, until she felt solid ground under her. She still couldn’t see where she was, or in what sort of place, but she wasn’t in the pod. This place had a tall ceiling, and the dark walls looked like bedrock. The darkness seemed to billow around her, and she thought she saw other creatures like the ones before her. “Where am I?” Moon asked.

  The beings didn’t answer, only nudged her to move by pushing at her with their big hands. Moon realized that she’d been cradled in their hands before, and now they wanted her to stand up. Doing so on wobbly legs, she stood before them, still feeling strange.

  The two beings nodded at each other, and then one of them scooped her up again. Moon gripped one of the long digits for support but was abruptly pushed back into a reclining position against its palm.

  The next things Moon experienced were radiant sunshine and the sweetest breeze she’d ever felt. Around her she saw trees and heard the wind go through them, also sounds of what could be birds or animals.

  The being put her down, and Moon stared at what was left of the pod. The floor and one side were destroyed. The chair she’d sat in was missing, and turning her head, she saw the remnants of it over on a slope. How had she survived? She looked down at her naked body and found herself intact, except for a few long lines that looked golden in the sunlight.

  The being moved its hand, and the other one did the same from its angle. Pushing against the ground, it looked as if they had scooped up dirt around the pod and packed it around the vessel. When Moon stepped closer on her unsteady legs, she saw it wasn’t dirt. The beings had actually reshaped the bedrock.

  Her knees giving in, Moon sat down on the ground. Next to her lay a piece of the hull, as reflective as a mirror. She was starting to feel nauseous but still lifted it, turning it around to examine it. She saw her own reflection and experienced a ridiculous relief that her growing hair was still there. Then she met her own gaze and blinked slowly, much like the creatures earlier. Before she gave in and passed out, Moon tried to figure out when her pale-blue eyes had turned a bright golden.

  * * *

  Moon opened her eyes and looked up. Expecting to see the creatures again, she instead found herself staring up into Beaux’s bloodshot eyes. She looked like she’d been through hell.

  “Were they really here again?” Moon cleared her throat when she heard how husky she sounded.

  Beaux merely gazed at her and then pulled her up into a firm embrace. “Not sure who you’re talking about, but if you mean those golden Mer’idians, then yes.”

  Moon didn’t understand. Only a moment ago, she had been naked in the grass next to the pod, and…no, wait. That wasn’t right. She had been with Beaux. Images of being held, caressed…kissed twirled through her mind. That was it. She had been in the pod with Beaux. Then she had knelt over that diseased man, Drak, with a knife in her hand, and she had— “Oh, no. Oh, what did I do?” She pushed at Beaux, who reluctantly let go of her.

  “Calm down.” Beaux pushed Moon’s hair out of her face. “You did nothing wrong. In fact, you seem to have saved every single person aboard the Empress.”

  That didn’t make sense, but Beaux’s warm expression, albeit tinged with sadness and something else Moon couldn’t decipher yet, did help calm her down. “How did I do that?”

  “By rendering Drak’s dead body harmless.” Beaux held up a hand. “I’m not the best at explaining the technical part of it. Mind if some of the others come inside for a moment? You can just tell us to leave you alone if you’re tired.” Beaux smiled, but her expression didn’t look thoroughly genuine.

  “Sure.” Looking around her, finally, Moon realized she was in one of the tents the Empress seemed to have in abundance. Next to her, a piece of medical equipment was hooked to her arm. So, one of their medical tents.

  Tracks, Somas, Nia, and Doc entered the partition. Doc helped raise the head of the bed, and only then did Moon realize that someone was missing. “Dancer?” she whispered and started to tremble.

  Beaux’s smile turned genuine. “Look under the bed.” She supported Moon as she glanced over the edge of it. There he lay—her little man, sound asleep under her bed. Now she heard his soft snores, and her world began to slowly right itself.

  “Is he all right?” she asked, just to be sure.

  “He’s fine. And once he wakes up and sees you, he’ll be even better.” Nia stepped closer and took Moon’s hand. “Good to see you awake.”

  “Thanks.” Moon drew a deep breath. “Did I dream it, or…”

  “Or did I tell you I was once a slave too?” Nia nodded solemnly. “No, you didn’t dream it. The captain saved me, and there’s no way any of us will ever rat you out. I’m not the only ex-slave on the Empress—just so you know.”

  This news was too hard to digest. Moon could only squeeze Nia’s hand. “What’s this about my saving someone on the Empress?” She looked at the faces around the bed. They seemed glad to see she was all right, but something was amiss.

  “You saved us all. If Kragh had brought Drak aboard the Empress, the fluids and tissues they tried to smuggle would have caused a catastrophic event.” Somas stepped closer. “And seeing the bastard reanimate after he died made us realize that something else was going on here that we could never have anticipated.”

  Moon pressed the back of her head harder into the pillow, needing to create some distance. “What was that?” she heard herself ask, even if she didn’t want to know.

  “We don’t fully understand it.” Doc sat down on the edge of Moon’s bed. “But we thought you might be able to fill in the blanks.”

  Moon searched for Beaux’s face, panicked when she couldn’t find it, but then realized she stood right next to the head of the bed.

  Beaux placed a hand on Moon’s shoulder, and the warmth of her touch settled Moon somewhat. “Once you stabbed Drak, and no, before you begin feel awkward about it, he was indeed already dead, the fluids Kragh meant to smuggle began oozing out. We managed to obtain a small sample for Doc to test planetside, which only supplied us with more questions. One thing that was obvious was its power to reanimate dead tissue. That and that it would never be able to travel through space, which is a blessing in disguise.”

  “Why? What’s—what’s wrong with it?” Moon was trying to keep up.

  “Nothing,” Doc said. “From the viewpoint of this planet, it’s a marvelous thing. As I see it, it helps keep this entire world functioning like the Haven you named it. Animals here live in harmony the way nature intended. At least above ground.”

  “And the creatures below it?” Moon asked, but then her tremors grew worse, and new images snapped through her mind as if they were projected on the blades of a knife.

  “Yes, the Mer’idians. We performed deeper scans, and even though we cannot fathom some of the readings, we have a theory.” Somas tapped his chin. He walked to the foot of the bed and squeezed Moon’s foot in such a friendly, non-imposing way, her eyes welled up with tears. “What can you tell us of the crash landing of your pod, Moon?” He tilted his head, and she could tell he really wanted to know. He wasn’t accusing her.

  “I never could remember all the details,” Moon said slowly, moving her hand up to grip Beaux’s. “I did have the strangest dream just before I woke up just now. But perhaps…perhaps it wasn’t a dream?”

  “Tell us about it, please?” Beaux pulled up a stool and sat down next to her.

  Moon recounted what she remembered of the landing in her dream that might be more than that.

  “I took a look at the pod.” Somas spoke gently. “The crash was devastating. Nobody could survive such an impact against pure bedrock.”

  Moon knew that. She had known it when her memories came back through the dream that wasn’t a dream. The broken pod. The seat torn from its bolts. “They healed me?”

  “Yes. We think so. Especially after you told us about your eyes shifting color like that. That was another piece of this puzzle,” Doc said.

  �
�But why aren’t I like Drak? He was murderous. I thought he would kill me.” Moon shuddered.

  “Because the Mer’idians know what they’re doing, and Kragh didn’t. He had probably no idea about the reanimation qualities of the fluid. He most likely found some rejuvenating properties during Ilienta’s relentless scans, and since the youth culture is rampant on Cimeria Prime, hell, throughout the Territory, Ilienta saw this as a perpetual source for creating eternal-youth products.” Doc shrugged. “When he pumped the dead Drak full of the stuff, he created a monster and a ticking time bomb. From my tests, if this substance leaves Haven’s atmosphere, it will destabilize and create a cataclysmic event, depending on how much we’re talking about.”

  “The amount in Drak would have easily obliterated the Empress.” Somas shook his head, looking dismayed. “Possibly even destroyed the ability to go to swift-speed in the surrounding sectors.”

  A thought buzzed in the back of Moon’s mind, but her fatigue made it difficult to grasp. “When I was underground,” she said, suddenly remembering something that wasn’t in her dream, “it wasn’t just a big cave. It was bigger. I could see bedrock above me and some walls just below it, some shelves, but besides that…it was a huge void. Even if just two creatures were tending to me, I saw movements. As far as the opening above us provided light, I saw movement. Can that be right? Could there be vast caves down there full of Mer’idians?”

  The others exchanged looks. “We managed to send down a probe where the crevice hadn’t closed completely the other day. This explained so much that we couldn’t make sense about earlier.” Doc patted Moon’s leg. “This planet, Haven, is not really a planet at all, my girl.”

  “Wh-what?” Moon gaped. “What do you mean? I’ve hiked all over the place, and—”