Captain Marvel

by Tess Sharpe

  Sona was up out of her chair, both palms flat on her desk, her eyes flashing. “How dare you…” she started to say, but Rhi slammed her own fists down on the desk, leaning into Sona’s face and growling, “Where is my brother?”

  “If you’ll actually listen to me and give me what I want, then I can tell you!” Sona roared back.

  “Sona.” A male voice cut through their mutual fury, and they both turned as one, which made Rhi even angrier that she was somehow on the same wavelength as Sona. A tall bearded man was standing there, with two little girls—no older than three— holding each of his hands.

  Twins. Rhi could see it in their faces. She looked at Sona, wondering whether this was some kind of sick game.

  “Girls.” Sona hurried around her desk, bending down to hug them. The man touched her shoulder briefly, and Rhi could see the bonding bracelets that matched Sona’s own on his wrists. This was her husband. Were these her children? “Can you show Rhi your trick?”

  The girls exchanged a look—a conspiratorial grin that sent Rhi’s heart reeling. Then the girl on the right flicked her fingers, fire sprouting from them. Her sister giggled, reaching out and snatching the fire from her sister’s fingertips as if it were a piece of candy, and the flame sprouted along her own palm.

  Rhi sagged against the edge of the desk, the air punched out of her.

  “Excellent work, girls!” Sona smiled. “Now go with Daddy. Get ready for dinner.”

  “You all right in here?” her husband asked, side-eyeing Rhi.

  “We’re fine,” Sona said firmly.

  She kept her back to Rhi until they were gone, and then she let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping. “The genetics spontaneously appear mainly in twins, or at least we think they do. I don’t have a lot of data on it other than my own, and a lot of my early journal entries are just, Oh no, my babies are shooting fire out of their fingers!”

  “You…” Rhi didn’t know what to say. “Are there more?” she blurted out, thinking of darker repercussions. If Ansel knew about this…

  “We have four girls who hold the flame, including my two. And three little boys as well. My girls are pyrotechs, and so are the boys. The Laya twins, they’re fifteen. Gretta can heal people, and Junie can cloak places. Which is why the Keepers haven’t found us.”

  Rhi stared at the spot where Sona’s daughters had been, thinking about how they had giggled together. How it had been fun, not frightening, to use their powers. “What are you going to do?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

  “What are you going to do?” Sona shot back. “You’re in the same position I am. You can choose to look out for the few or to defend all. Neither path is easy. One seems impossible, and both are dangerous.”

  Rhi couldn’t answer that—she couldn’t bear to. Especially after the chance to free Umbra had failed because she’d put the all before herself.

  Umbra would like Sona, she realized with an uncomfortable jolt. If she were here with Rhi, she wouldn’t have been suspicious like Rhi was. Umbra would be sympathetic. She would help Sona, give her what she wanted, if she had it.

  Rhi finally took a seat in the rickety chair, trying not to smile when Sona’s ruddy eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What do you want from me?”

  Sona leaned against the edge of her desk, folding her arms across her chest. “Years ago, before Ansel was president, he asked you to find something for him—a book. Do you remember?”

  “I do,” Rhi replied carefully.

  “That book belonged to my father. It’s the last official record of the real history of Damaria. The only one written not by the male victors, but by the few women and men brave enough to record their experiences for posterity, no matter the risk.”

  “And you think that if you get this book, you can, what— undo things? Break the system? Punish the Keepers?”

  “Truth is power. And fear and hate are taught, Rhi. We aren’t born with it, even if men like my father and Ansel want us to think we are. And if hate is taught, it can be unlearned, and replaced with understanding.”

  Sona stared down at the ground, her hands cupping her elbows, almost cradling them, like she’d gotten used to hugging herself for warmth on the cold nights struggling for survival. “I know that to you, it seems ridiculous that a mythic woman cursing the world was so real to me. But think about that— think about all the women across Damaria who are certain that power and choices would destroy them… and about the men who push down their instincts ‘for the betterment of all’—even though that’s a cruel lie. But we’re told, over and over again, that it must be true because there is no other option, even though the system hurts men and women and all who do not subscribe to those labels.

  “So you ask what does it matter if I have proof that it isn’t real? That it was a cover-up to explain mass murder? That might be the spark that will fan the true flame to wrest the Keepers’ control away from the Damarians and the Inhumans. If you could help me find the book…” Sona almost pleaded. “It might… no, it will change things.”

  The passion in Sona’s voice reminded Rhi of Umbra. She thought of Alestra and Zeke, of their growing baby, unaware of the oppression possibly awaiting her. She thought of her sisters back in the Maiden House. Of the Damarian girls, tucked away in their own Maiden Houses—not as horrific as theirs, but still prisons. Of all the women living on this monstrous planet—Inhuman and Damarian—all of them locked into lives of servitude, all of them forced to give up their daughters.

  None of them had a choice. And Sona wanted to give them one.

  Which meant Rhi had to make a choice, too.

  She had started this journey determined to trust no one. But she had learned that was no way to end it.

  Making her decision, she pulled the book out of her jacket, unwrapped it from the plastic that protected it, and held it out to Sona.

  “I have to admit, you’ve got stellar timing.”

  “Is that—” Sona’s face twisted in confusion melting into astonishment, and her fingers closed around the volume gently, as if she was afraid it would vanish beneath her touch. Her intensity reminded Rhi so much of Ansel’s reaction she had to bite back bile to remember Sona would use it for good—not evil.

  Sona stammered, “The title… the star on the cover… This… this is it! I can’t believe it. I just can’t—how did you get this?”

  “I broke into Ansel’s house tonight. And burned it down.”

  Sona’s eyes widened in shock. “You… what?”

  Rhi was at a loss to explain how it happened. She didn’t know how to begin to describe Hepzibah—how her joy and freedom were so infectious, making a person feel like they could do anything. Finally she just said, “It’s a long story. I found the book when I was searching Ansel’s office for information on Zeke, and I remembered the time years ago Ansel had me find it, and I knew it must be important, so I took it with me.”

  “This is… you have no idea…” Sona stammered.

  “I do,” Rhi cut in. “I gave you what you wanted, Sona. Which is why you’re going to tell me where Zeke is. Now.”

  “Of course,” Sona replied, getting up to set the book carefully on the desk, like a precious jewel. “The Resistance has friends inside the government. I got word that the prison transport your brother’s on will be stopping to pick up more fuel cells tomorrow morning. I have the route and the times. You should be able to intercept them.” She pulled a map from a stack on her desk, laying it flat on the stone surface. “I can go over the route with you, if you’d like.”

  Rhi leaned forward, her eyes tracking the dark-blue line Sona had traced along the road.

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  27

  CAROL SEEMED surprised to see Rhi and Sona emerge an hour later, not exactly smiling, but definitely not primed to pummel each other. She hadn’t seen that kind of animosity simmering in Rhi before, but once the story behind the twins’ execution was told, she understood. And she felt a corkscrewin
g horror for both Rhi and Sona, for all they had endured—the two sides of the Damarian coin, where no woman won.

  The tent-and-shack city inside the cavern was dank and smelly, but alive with activity: small street markets thrumming, children’s laughter echoing from a makeshift playground of repurposed odds and ends scavenged from the world outside, and music floating above the haphazard tents and buildings as the night unfolded. The team unwound as much as they could inside the restaurant, which was just a lunch counter with a still in the back.

  Amadeus, being Amadeus, had instantly engaged the bartender in questions about said still; by the time Rhi returned, he was on his back underneath it, Scott handing him a tool to replace one of the broken coils and chatting with the grateful owner.

  Mantis had found a bench for Fern to lie down on and was hovering over the child, occasionally pressing her hand to her temple to chase away bad dreams. Jella was asleep in a chair next to her, the events of the day finally catching up to her, her hands shaky until Hepzibah poured her a cup of strong Damarian tea and commanded her to drink it.

  “I’m going back to the shuttle to get some sleep,” Rhi told Carol. “Will you walk with me? I want to talk to you.”

  Carol nodded, rising to her feet. “I’ll be back,” she told Scott and Hepzibah.

  She had expected Rhi to be angry or despairing, peppering her with questions about Umbra, but their walk through the dark tunnel back to the cavern that housed the shuttle was silent. Rhi made no move to go inside the shuttle when they reached the cavern. Instead, she found a rock to sit on, folding her legs beneath her.

  “I’m sorry, Rhi,” Carol said, figuring she might as well start.

  Rhi shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I handed her the EMP patch, instead of just putting it on her arm,” Carol admitted. “I didn’t even think—”

  “—that she’d sacrifice herself,” Rhi finished. She gave a shrug, her hair swinging down her shoulders at the movement. “That’s my fault. I should’ve warned you. She… she’s kind of amazing like that.”

  “So I learned.” Carol leaned against a pillar, staring up at the dripping stone, glowing red even deep underneath the earth.

  “I don’t blame you at all,” Rhi said. “I blame myself.”

  “What—”

  “She always said that we couldn’t leave without everyone,” Rhi continued, staring at her hands, thinking of the last time Umbra had held them, the night before Ansel came to take hold of her. Umbra had kissed each finger and whispered, I’m coming back, I promise to her skin, because she couldn’t say it to Rhi’s face.

  “And I always told myself that when the time came, she’d come. That she’d let herself be selfish. But that’s not the girl I love. The girl I love gave her freedom away to a little girl who doesn’t even understand her own power. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Carol’s eyes shimmered in the dim light. “She told me to tell you this: We do what we must.”

  Her words wrenched a half-laugh, half-sob from Rhi. “Damn her,” she muttered. “Damn her.” She buried her face in her hands, the pain working its way through her, never again to surface. When the last tear finally fell, she wiped it away and squared her shoulders.

  “Ansel’s already adding maternity wings and nurseries to some of the empty Maiden Houses,” she said. “I found his plans when I was searching his office. He’s calling them ‘Heritage Houses.’ Even if we get Alestra away, off the planet, there are going to be countless others left behind to suffer the fate we save her and her baby from.”

  “That bastard,” Carol muttered.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Rhi said. “I thought that I could get my friends and my brother out, and that the rest… the Inhumans, the Damarians, they would have to find their own way.”

  How could she stay? But how could she go? Either way felt impossible.

  “And now?” Carol asked, swinging her arms back and forth as she pushed off the column and began to move around the cavern, pacing in tight little circles that spoke of her restlessness. Rhi knew the lack of flight was bothering her terribly.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, feeling suffocated by hopelessness. “Did you see them?” she asked, looking up at Carol. “The little girls who hold the flame?”

  Carol nodded. “Cute kids. Very… fiery. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised. If the flame really is a genetic trait passed down, it was only a matter of time before it reappeared in a female line. Like gender, genetics is a varied spectrum.”

  “Sona wants to overthrow the Council. She wants me to help her lead the revolution to free Damaria.”

  “You definitely bring a lot to the table,” Carol remarked.

  “I don’t know how to lead,” Rhi blurted out.

  “That’s them talking, Rhi, not you.” Carol said it so softly, with no pity, but it made Rhi flush all the same.

  “You know, one of the most important things I’ve learned is the tricky relationship between being a hero and being a leader. You want to be both, of course, but sometimes leading means making a choice between sacrificing for the good of all or rising for the good of a few.”

  Rhi felt so small when she said, “I never asked for this.”

  “No… but the great leaders rarely do,” Carol answered gently. “Those who are hungry for power rarely want it for good or right reasons. Those who respect power and use it with restraint to help others are the ones who do the most good for the greatest number of people over time.”

  Rhi stared upward. If she squinted, she could swear there was a crack at the very top of the cavern, a sliver where she could see the red sky.

  She had dreamed of the stars. Of returning to them, and leaving Damaria and the hell it was behind. But she had also dreamed for years of green fields, and a girl who’d helped her make them so. A girl who’d want to stay, to help, to create change, to flourish.

  The idea of staying was frightening, but Sona had said something she did believe: Fear was learned.

  And fear could be conquered.

  * * *

  THE NEXT morning, the team gathered around the shuttle for a final check-in. Amadeus had washed off the salve that coated his burn, revealing new skin growth already covering most of the damaged area. He assured Carol he’d taken a sample of the stuff to bring back home.

  “We’re going to split up,” Carol said. “We’ve got a lot to do in very little time. And now that Ansel knows what we’re up to, we’ve got to make every second count. Amadeus and Scott will bring Jella to Fort Olvar to take out the suppression weapon. Rhi and I will intercept Zeke’s prison transport as it stops to fuel up. Hepzibah and Mantis will get in position outside the Maiden House with Sona and the Resistance fighters.”

  “What about Fern?” Mantis asked.

  “She’s staying with Sona’s daughters until we return,” Jella said. “I do not like leaving her here, but she can’t be anywhere near the fighting.”

  “Fern will be safe here,” Carol said, and she believed that. “After the weapon’s knocked out and Zeke’s with us, we’ll hit the Maiden House in a three-pronged attack: from below, from above, and on the ground.”

  “And we’ll finally have Brawn on our side,” Scott said, clapping Amadeus on the back. “Not that you haven’t already saved our asses several times.”

  “I’m definitely feeling like I want to smash some things,” Amadeus said. “And trust me, so is Brawn.”

  “I will not let you down,” Jella put in solemnly.

  “We’ve seen you in action,” Amadeus smiled at the girl. “We know you won’t. I would love to take some energy readings off you once this is all over. The atmosphere manipulation you can do is—”

  “Not now, Amadeus,” Mantis said, poking him lightly. “We need to get going. It’s a long trip to the Maiden House.” She reached out, taking Rhi’s hands in hers. “Be safe, Rhi.”

  “You too.”

  Hepzibah slipped something into Rhi’
s jacket pocket, and when she patted the spot, feeling the curve of an ember bomb, the Mephitisoid winked at her and hurried after Mantis. Rhi could hear the empath saying, “Where did you get that?” and Hepzibah sing-songing back, “Never you mind, Mantis, never you mind…”

  “Sona’s gonna show us the transport we’ll be using, so we’ve got to go with her,” Scott said, smiling at Rhi. “Kid, you’ve impressed the hell out of me this whole mission. You’re gonna keep at it, right?”

  She nodded, letting him hug her tight before turning to Amadeus.

  “Umbra will be back with you soon,” he said, making it sound like a promise. “We’ll find a way.”

  She wanted so badly to believe him. But she also knew that as soon as the team had liberated the girls in the Maiden House, they had to get them off the planet immediately—especially Alestra. But Rhi would have to stay behind, because she couldn’t leave without Umbra. And knowing what she knew about the horrors faced by all women on the planet, how could she leave at all?

  But what could she do about it? Could she be the kind of leader who could help liberate Damaria? Did Sona and the Resistance have a chance? She couldn’t decide.

  Amadeus stepped away to give her and Jella some space. The two Inhumans clung tightly to each other.

  “I don’t want to leave you again,” Jella whispered. “The last time…”

  Rhi’s fingers clenched Jella’s waist as she thought of that day. Secretary Marson and three guards had to drag Jella away. She’d screamed and kicked and scratched, even as they shocked her over and over again. Marson had laughed. But he wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “I’ll be back,” she said, wishing she could put the kind of reassurance in her voice that Amadeus did. “As soon as I have Zeke.”