The Confluence: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 6)

by Valerie J Mikles

  “I’ve had many lovers here. Parker wasn’t one,” Sky said. “It was Diana.”

  “Diana Solvere?” she sputtered, slamming the brakes. “The sadistic, psychopath—”

  “She was a good person when I left her,” Sky said, her cheeks burning with regret. “She never hurt anyone before she climbed into Parker’s bed.”

  “Do you know what she did to Santos’ kid? To his wife?” Saskia asked. “I’m surprised we got you back in one piece.”

  Sky nodded. The look on Diana’s face when she found out that Parker was keeping her chained told Sky that her old friend was in there somewhere.

  “He asked me so many times to help his family escape, and I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to. His kid is a luna-born,” Saskia said. “But any physical injury he might get in Quin is nothing compared to the 5.”

  “Before we subject a little boy to a life of paralysis and abandon every other kid on Terrana, let’s try to save the moon first,” Sky said, a smile of hope curling her lips. Santos wasn’t the only one oppressed, and if she could convince him to rally his people, they’d take back their world. She hadn’t staged a revolt in forever.

  They rolled to the gate and a bored-looking attendant tapped on the driver-side window. Sky stretched lithely across the cabin, opened the window and leaned out, giving the attendant a wink. If she kept his eyes on her, he wouldn’t look at their cargo.

  “We’re required to be here for work if we want food. Deivon—Mr. Parker asked us to move his Yangs,” Sky said to the attendant, her sweet smile begging forgiveness for the faux pas.

  “Tell him he needs to requisition a truck. It’s a simple form. It takes two seconds,” the attendant said irately. By his tone, he frequently encountered this kind of entitled behavior from Terrana’s most powerful. Or he saw through the lie.

  Sky leaned a little farther out the window, calling up a spending account that she’d shared with Diana. “On this account, please.”

  The attendant’s eyes widened. “Done,” he squeaked, making a quick note. “I’ll handle the paperwork.”

  “Of course you will.” Sky gave a satisfied hum, then drew herself into the truck and rolled up the window. She smirked triumphantly at Saskia, but Saskia didn’t share her confidence. The attendant parted the doors and waved them through the gate, his fear of Solvere obvious in his urgency. The port gate dumped them into the southeast sector of the Main City, and Saskia turned right down the road that circumnavigated the dome. Since most of the traffic was pedestrian, there weren’t a lot of places that had vehicle access.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if you didn’t chain yourself to Parker’s bed,” Saskia said.

  “I may have the first day. When I thought he’d let me go,” Sky confessed. “Tamrin Lab is on the northeast side. Their grav-tech research might help us keep Parker’s portals closed.”

  The trip to Tamrin was quick, and Sky was glad to be out of the truck. Sikorsky came out, too, looking sick to his stomach, keeping his injured hand in his pocket to give off a stoic appearance.

  “Santos said he would meet you here?” Saskia asked.

  “Maybe on the front side of the building,” Sky said. Santos hadn’t answered her, and she feared he wasn’t coming at all.

  “I have a few more weapons to ready before we storm the castle. Meet you there,” Saskia said. “Call when you’re ready to rendezvous.”

  The truck took off and Sikorsky linked Sky’s arm. “I wonder if we can coax your finger back into this realm with a therapeutic grav-disc,” Sky commented. “I bet they have a few at the lab.”

  “I’d rather the tip stay lost than risk losing the whole hand,” Sikorsky said. “I don’t care how pretty it looks or how much it glows, don’t touch it.”

  “The stone you touched was glowing?” Sky asked. “Hanyu ore doesn’t glow.”

  “Sweetheart, Janiya was glowing,” Sikorsky said. “If you’ve ever watched them smelt ore to make a grav-source, it was that kind of glow, but it seemed to come from everywhere.”

  “Do you usually see things like that?” Sky asked.

  Sikorsky shook his head. “Never outside of that room. Never understood Moonspeak outside of that room, either. He’s close, Sky. Let’s not dawdle here.”

  The research lab had moon-glass walls that let in the day-GLO, casting rainbow colors on the wall. A partition divided the entryway from the lab space, and Raymond Leal poked his head around, breaking into a wide smile when he saw Sky.

  “Ishtar! Oh, honey, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he gushed, giving her a big hug, leaving smears of black moon dust on her white clothes. He had the hunched shoulders and fine face-lines of an engineer. His long, scraggly hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and his teeth looked as white and fresh as though they’d been implanted yesterday.

  Sikorsky stifled a laugh at the name, and Sky shot him a look.

  Ivy, Raymond’s wife came next, gushing with relief and sandwiching Sky in a hug. “When you didn’t come back, we thought sure they put you in the 5,” Ivy said. “They copied every piece of research you gave us. They took my nanobots.”

  “They gave them back,” Raymond chuckled.

  “But I’m only allowed to use them in avalan synthesis now,” Ivy said, stepping back and rubbing her hand through her frizzy, black hair. “Parker didn’t trust us with his avalan. I don’t suppose he trusted you.”

  “He has avalan?” Sky asked.

  “He left me a few scrapings so the nanobots would have something to model off of. He brought it the other day,” Ivy said. “It was weird that he brought it and not one of his guards, and he was hesitant to let us touch it. He didn’t let it out of his sight the whole time.”

  “We found a whole quarry of avalan north of Quin. That’s why Parker brought us on,” Sikorsky said, looking for a place to sit. The cover story was paper thin, despite the truth about the quarry.

  “We’re actually here looking for Andrew Carr,” Sky said.

  “Why? What’s he done now?” Ivy asked.

  “What did he do before?” Sky repeated.

  Ivy started to speak but Raymond shot her a look.

  “Good question. What is it you think I’ve done, Ivy?” Andrew Carr carped, coming around the partition, arms crossed. His build was similar to David Carr, but the grayish tint on his olive skin screamed luna-born. He was more clean-cut than the other two, but his youth was tainted by tension and stress.

  “If it’s collapsing walls between dimensions, I might have an explanation,” Sky said. The other three stared at her. In their line of work, a comment like that wasn’t immediately read as sarcasm. “I need to talk to you about David. Is there some place private we can go?” Sky asked Andrew.

  “No, you can’t just drop a hint like that and go talk to the medical applications developer,” Ivy protested.

  “Did something happen to David?” Andrew asked, his concern tempered by sad resignation.

  “He took a stunner blast to the chest, but that’s not why we’re here,” Sikorsky said.

  Andrew’s lips parted and he dashed for the door. Sikorsky tried to grab him, but keeled at the pressure on his missing finger. Sky caught his arm.

  “Let me tell you why this is happening first. I can guarantee you, the Guard won’t,” she said softly. She released his arm, but Andrew didn’t run again. Fishing a Feather from his pocket, he vrang his husband and stalked to a side storage room. Sky followed, but the brightness of the place made her stop short. The tables were cluttered, and she had to move carefully to keep from knocking into things.

  “How much has Lt. Carr told you about Galen?” Sikorsky asked, hurrying the conversation.

  Andrew finished leaving his message for David, obviously stressed by the lack of answer he got to his call. “Everything,” he said tersely.

  “How much do you believe?” Sikorsky asked, pushing Sky out of the way so he could take the chair in the room. Sky bumped into a table and her eyes locked on a square device. It w
as about one-foot square with no obvious function. A bag of inch-round grav-disks sat next to it. Without avalan, she couldn’t create a focused pulse like she could with a grav-gun, but that didn’t mean these sources were useless.

  “More now than I did,” Andrew said. “I saw one of those portals that he’s so scared of. I saw the creatures on the other side.”

  “What were they doing?” Sikorsky asked.

  “There was a pair of them,” Andrew recalled. “One was injured and the other was healing him. Not with a tool, but there was this glow around his fingers, and it made sense in an alien sort of way.”

  Sikorsky elbowed Sky, and she glanced up from her pilfering. The box still caught her eye. It wasn’t glowing the way Sikorsky described, but then, she wasn’t a hybrid.

  “We think Galen is trying to heal your husband,” Sikorsky said, realizing Sky’s mind was elsewhere.

  “Opening creepy windows to other realms hasn’t helped at all,” Andrew commented.

  “I can imagine. Do you have any Hanyu ore jewelry or gravity sources at home? We think there might be a connection,” Sikorsky said.

  “It’s my fault?” Andrew whispered, his face paling. He reached to the wall for support, and sank to the floor.

  “How do you mean?” Sikorsky asked.

  “I thought I could use a grav-device to close the window. To make sure they’d never stay open around us. I thought it was working. I’d activate one, and the window snapped shut. That’s why Ivy’s angry. She doesn’t think the modifications I’ve made are safe, but she also doesn’t know about the windows.”

  “Is that what this machine is?” Sky asked, running her hand over the mysterious device.

  “No, that’s Ivy’s fantasy for dome-wide gravitational adjustment. So luna-borns can be raised in Aquian gravity. She just can’t stand that her kid is luna-born and is stuck here like the rest of us,” Andrew replied.

  Sky lifted the loose casing to see inside, and suddenly felt like Spirit’s form was being ripped from her torso. Her ears were overwhelmed by a deafening screech, and her eyes clouded by red fire. She screamed and writhed, and out of the chaos, a version of Hawk flew to her side, covering her with his wings, whispering words she’d never remember. The screeching sound stopped, leaving her ears ringing.

  “Ishtar! Are you hurt?” Raymond asked, gingerly cradling her head, dabbing blood from her face. “Does anything feel broken?”

  Panting for breath, Sky took stock of her body. “Just my hearing,” Sky said, looking around for Sikorsky. His body was close to hers, and his face ashen.

  “Hearing?” Raymond asked. “I would think this bump on your head would register.”

  “More likely, they’re both sensitive to the Hanyu resonance,” Ivy said, dabbing gauze against Sikorsky’s ear. “Another case for Doctor Draver, maybe. It’s strange that it hit both of them. Two in a million, I guess.”

  “Where’s Andrew?” Sky asked, sitting up carefully. She felt woozy, like she had after she and Hawk collapsed in the 1, but she hadn’t had a full-on dream this time.

  “Gone. He’s not coming back,” Ivy grumbled. “I can’t believe he messed with my machine again.”

  “He didn’t touch it. I did,” Sky confessed. “It was calling to me.”

  “You didn’t feel a concentrated beam or a pressure wave when you lifted the shield?” Ivy asked hopefully.

  “The sound was the greater force,” Sikorsky grunted, accepting Ivy’s help to stand.

  “We’ll walk you to the hospital, if you’re up for walking. Or I can call an ambulance,” Raymond offered.

  “I felt fine once the machine was off,” Sikorsky dismissed. “We have other places we need to be.”

  “Are you sure, Ishtar?” Raymond asked, holding Sky’s hand in both of his.

  “Dinner, later,” Sky promised. “We’ll talk avalan and dimensional rifts. And you can explain this machine to me.”

  Arm-in-arm, Sky and Sikorsky headed outside. Sky could feel her mind clearing the further they got from the place.

  “Ishtar?” Sikorsky asked her. “I haven’t heard that name before.”

  “Do you like it? I went through a love goddess phase,” Sky said.

  “If they’re loyal Nationals, they’ll tell Parker we were there and what we were asking,” Sikorsky pointed out.

  “I don’t understand that ear splitting noise,” Sky said. “I have been around gravity powered machines without experiencing that.”

  “I heard a sound like that when I was first pulled into the Marble. Again when I was pulled out,” Sikorsky said, then he tapped her arm rapidly. “Sky! It’s Cheoff.”

  “Where?” Sky asked, scanning for an entourage, surprised to see Cheoff moving with a single guard at his side. “Where’s he going?”

  “I’ll follow him. You keep on Carr,” he said.

  “Sikorsky,” she protested, but in a flash he’d teleported fifty paces away. She saw his posture stiffen, and he shook out the tension. He hadn’t meant to teleport.

  Sky tapped her Feather. “Míge, you weren’t at Tamrin. Please, I need to see you.”

  No answer. Sky sent a text, but then she saw Hawk and Benedict. Colonel Rhodes walked a few paces behind them, and by the way Benedict shook, Sky knew there was a weapon in play. When they got to the steps of the Marble, Rhodes stopped and looked around, scanning the courtyard. Benedict tried to bolt, but Rhodes nailed him with a stunner, knocking him to his knees. Two passers-by noticed, and intentionally looked away.

  Sky tapped her Virp. “Míge? Rhodes took Hawk. Please help me,” she begged.

  Cheoff had never been to the slums of Terrana before. He’d seen pictures and signed work orders. He’d recommended the relocation of the residents so that they could launch a full-scale renovation. He never understood why people were so reluctant to leave a part of the city that was falling to disrepair.

  Then he learned that every GLO luminator they repaired was shot out by the residents, and any house that was restored with public money got looted the next day. The people here received the same food rations, health services, and public education as those in the rest of the city, and it wasn’t enough. They were bitter and resentful, angry and destructive. Or like Diana Solvere, hiding.

  For the first half of the journey, Lieutenant Turner tried to talk Cheoff out of coming. There was an obvious turning point, where the city became unkempt. Turner shed his jacket and tucked it into a bush, explaining that the Guard uniform was more likely to get them shot here. He kept quiet after that, his stunner activated, but down by his side. Cheoff didn’t question him.

  A door cracked open, and a young man stepped out, eying Cheoff and Turner. He turned just enough to show them the pellet rifle in his hand. Projectile weapons had been outlawed for centuries due to the fragility of the dome environment, but Cheoff had been shot by more than one in his tenure as Governor. The first time was during the October Massacres eleven years ago. The pellets had shattered his elbow, and he’d had to get the joint replaced.

  Turner kept his head down and picked up his pace. They rounded a corner, and Turner opened the door to the first house on the left and disappeared inside. Cheoff hesitated, suddenly worried about Turner’s loyalties. Cheoff didn’t have a weapon to defend himself.

  The young man with the pellet gun rounded the corner, and Cheoff hurried into the dark house. Turner had protected him thus far. In the dim foyer, there was an old table and a tapestry. Broken ceramic crunched under foot, and Cheoff recognized the pour spout of a decorative teapot.

  “Over there,” Turner whispered, nodding into the living room.

  The room had the mixture of opulence and decay of a long lost treasure. On the couch, illuminated by a single ray of day-GLO, lay Diana Solvere. There was a limp pillow under her head, and her feet were propped on the arm of the couch. She had a lacrosse ball balanced on the bridge of her nose.

  Cheoff tensed again, wondering if he’d been lied to about the extremeness of her injury.


  “You resigned… again,” he said, stepping into the room, smelling mildew and feeling the squish of the damp rug underfoot.

  “Come to hang me?” she asked, matching his accusatory tone, but giving her attention to the ball.

  “I’ll restrain myself,” he said, stopping over top of her, blocking the daylight. She wore a low-cut top that had been pushed up so she could wrap her broken ribs. A brace covered her bruised left shoulder. She had a minor bruise on one cheek, but Cheoff suspected she’d dropped the ball on her face more than once trying to quell her boredom. Her right arm was free to grab the pulse rifle at her side, and despite her injuries, she looked anything but helpless.

  “I didn’t know this would happen when I demanded you be disciplined,” Cheoff said, changing his tone.

  “Then you’re blind,” she scoffed, dropping the ball. It landed hard on her chest, making her gasp, and she let it roll away. Cheoff stopped the ball with his foot and picked it up.

  “That is becoming apparent,” Cheoff agreed. “Help me see what I’ve been missing.”

  “And why would you trust me now?” Diana challenged.

  Cheoff held the ball over the shoulder. He didn’t like making the threat, and she knew it. “Did Parker order an attack on Oriana or any other transport vessel leaving Terrana? Is he a threat?”

  “Absolutely,” she said with an arrogant smile. She laughed, then winced, gingerly wrapping her good arm around her torso.

  “Is he responsible for the Disappeared?” Cheoff asked.

  “He is,” she confirmed, pushing herself unsteadily to her feet, and tottering toward him, pulse rifle in hand. Cheoff planted his feet, knowing he could overpower her if it came to that. Turner had his stunner drawn and pointed directly at her. Or him. It was hard to tell from the corner of his eye.

  “Has he ever tried to kill me?” Cheoff asked.

  Diana laughed again, then whispered conspiratorially: “He was the first.”

  She stumbled and fell into Cheoff’s arms, dropping her pulse rifle, her body shaking.

  “Turner, we need to get her to the hospital,” Cheoff said, pushing Solvere back to the couch, helping her lie down. He searched for a blanket that looked clean, but everything here was damp and molding. Shedding his jacket, he laid it over her and she stared in surprise.