by Amie Kaufman
As Ty wipes at her faceplate, I can see her eyes are blue, too.
They used to be brown.
“T-Tyler,” she moans. “They’re c-coming.”
“Scar, we need to move,” my brother says. “Now.”
His voice is like iron, but I can feel the fear in him. We’ve known each other since before we were born. I can read him better than anyone. And I know that under the facade, beneath the even tone and steady hands, he’s terrified.
For us.
For her.
I blink hard. Nod once. And then I’m up off my knees, moving quick. We run through the overgrown streets, through the swaying fronds, the med center finally looming up ahead of us.
We have to blast our way past the vines to get in through the entrance, but I’m not sure what he’s hoping to find here. Even if the place wasn’t being swallowed by this…infection, the facilities are two centuries old. It’s only now, up close, that I’m realizing how desperate and hopeless this plan is.
The inside of the building is dark, the windows covered with growth, the power long dead. We arc up the searchlights on our biosuits, bright beams cutting through the gloom. The place is completely overrun—the floors carpeted in moss, the walls crawling with creepers and sticky flowers.
“Zila, what do we need?” Tyler asks.
The girl shakes her head, looking at Cat. Through the visor of her biosuit, I can see our Ace’s blue eyes are open, eyelashes fluttering. Her skin is covered in sweat. I swear there’s a faint silver sheen on it.
“I am unsure, sir,” Zila replies. “I have never seen symptoms like—”
“Improvise,” he snaps. “You’re my Brain. I need you now.”
“Medical storage,” she says. “I do not know what chemicals they had here, or what will be unspoiled after two centuries. But I may be able to cobble together some kind of antibacterial agent or suppressant if we find a supply cache.”
“Right,” Tyler nods. “Let’s move.”
We stalk off through the dark belly of the med center, footsteps squeaking and squishing on the carpet of plant growth. Every surface is covered with it. The heat is oppressive, like the inside of a sauna. I can hear Cat’s shallow breathing, my heart thumping in my chest. We check room after room, but everything is overgrown, useless, unrecognizable. Vague shapes of maybe-beds and possibly-computers, tiny motes of luminous blue pollen dancing in the air.
Cat reaches up in Tyler’s arms, grabs his shoulder. “Tyler…”
“Cat, you just relax, okay?” he says. “We’re getting you out of this.”
“Y-you…” She shakes her head, swallows hard. “D-don’t under…stand.”
“Cat, honey, please,” I beg. “Try not to talk.”
“I…see,” she whispers.
“What do you see?” Zila asks.
“G-men.” Cat closes those new blue eyes. “C-coming.”
“The shuttle we saw.” Zila looks at Tyler. “Survivors from the Bellerophon.”
“Zila, what’s happening to her?” I ask.
Our Brain’s brow creases in thought, her lips pursed. I can see that genius-level IQ at work behind her eyes. Her detachment bringing a clarity I can only envy. I wonder what it was that made her like this. How she got to be who she became.
After a moment pondering, she turns and fires her disruptor at the wall—when all else fails, stick to what you know, I guess. The blast burns a section of the overgrowth to cinders, the blue-green leaves reduced to ashes. Just like when we killed the chimp-things, the rest of the plant life around us ripples, whispers, shudders. And my heart sinking in my chest, I see Cat shuddering too.
“Ohhh,” she moans. “Ohhhhh.”
Zila runs her uniglass over Cat’s body, through the air. The device beeps and clicks, Zila playing it like a concert pianist.
“Legionnaire Madran?” Tyler asks.
Zila shakes her head. “There is so little data. So many variables. But these growths, the infected animals, all we have seen…there appears to be a congruence between them. When one is hurt, the others seem to feel pain.”
I think back to the bridge of the Longbow. The words Aurora spoke when she pointed to those glowing red dots on the star map.
“Gestalt,” I whisper.
Zila nods. “A gestalt entity, yes. A multitude of organisms that are actually a single being. It is as if everything on this planet, everything affected by this plant bloom…it is as if they are all connected.”
Cat begins convulsing in Tyler’s arms, a fit gripping her whole body. Her teeth are bared, and as she thrashes, he lowers her to the floor, tears shining in his eyes.
“Cat?” Tyler asks. “Cat, can you hear me?”
“Ra’haam,” she groans, echoing Auri’s words on the bridge.
“Hold on, we’ll figure this out, I promise.”
Cat groans, head thrown back, every muscle taut as she lifts herself off the floor, back bent in a perfect arch.
“Ra’haaaaa-a-a-aam!”
I feel so useless, I want to scream. Every ounce of my terror, my horror, is echoed in the lines of Tyler’s body, in the way he bends down over her, runs a hand helplessly down her arm, tentative, like touching her might break her.
I know what happened between them on shore leave. Neither of them told me, but I figured it out. Coming back with those new tattoos and a new distance between them. I could see Cat wanted to close it. I could understand why Tyler didn’t. Why it might have been a mistake. Why it might have been the best thing that happened to either of them. Because as in love as Ty is with the idea of being a leader, of being a soldier, of being someone Dad would be proud of, I know part of Tyler is in love with Cat, too.
He just hasn’t figured out how yet.
But what will he do if he loses her?
“I can f-feeeeel it,” Cat hisses, sweat beading on her brow. “I can feel them. This place, this planet…I kn-know what it issssss.”
She sighs and sinks back down onto the mossy growth. Her eyes are open, the same faintly luminous blue as the pollen floating in the air around us. And with dawning horror, I realize her pupils aren’t round anymore.
They’re the shape of flowers.
“Cat?” Zila asks, kneeling beside her. “What is Ra’haam?”
Our Ace looks at Zila, tears shining in her lashes.
“We are.”
“Maker’s breath,” Tyler whispers. “Your eyes…”
Cat’s hand snakes out, grabbing Tyler’s arm so hard he flinches.
“G-get th-them out of here, Tyler,” she breathes, teeth clenched. “Auri, especially. It would have killed you all to stop her finding this place. But now she’s here…you…can’t let it t-take her.”
“Cat…”
“I can f-feel it.” She shakes her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I can feel it inside me, Ty. For the love of the Maker…get…get her out of h-here.”
My hands are shaking and I can’t breathe fast enough. I can’t talk, the sobs rising up in my throat to choke me. But Zila says what I’m thinking.
“But the star map inside the Trigger led us here,” she objects.
“Don’t you unders…understand?” Cat shakes her head, spine arching again. “W-wasn’t an invitation. It-t-t w-was a warning….”
She falls silent, closing her eyes, shivering as if she has a fever. I look to my brother, see his face is pale as old bones. I can see the desperation in his eyes. The hurt. The same sinking feeling that’s building inside my own chest. There’s nothing usable in this med center. We have hostile inbounds—GIA agents in their faceless gray armor and who knows what else. He has to prioritize. He has to put the needs of the group before his own feelings. That’s what good leaders do.
He meets my eyes. And I speak to him without having to say a word.
/> Show the way, baby brother.
He reaches into the utility belt on Cat’s suit, grabs her uniglass. “Kal, what’s your status?”
“We were unsuccessful at the spaceport,” our Tank replies. “But Finian says he can synthesize the necessary components for a new Longbow core if he has access to the colony reactor. We are headed there now.”
“Is everyone okay?”
Kal’s voice lowers, as if he doesn’t want to be overheard.
“Aurora is…unsettled. We encountered more colonists, infected with the same ailment as the chimps. One spoke of…spawning?”
“Yessss,” Cat sighs, writhing on the floor.
I take her hand and she opens her eyes and looks at me. I want to look away from that unnatural color, those flower-shaped pupils. But instead I squeeze my roomie’s fingers, muster a smile.
Tyler takes a shaky breath. “We suspect at least one GIA agent was on that transport—it must have been from the Bellerophon. They’re inbound on our position.”
“The colony reactor is the most heavily fortified structure in the settlement, sir. If we are planning a defense, we should gather there.”
“Roger that, we’ll head to you.”
“I will have deterrent recommendations ready for you when you arrive.”
“We’ll be there ASAP.” He swallows thickly. “Kal…tell everyone to mind the integrity of their biosuits. Under no circumstances are you to allow anyone’s gear to be breached, is that understood?”
“Zero, is she—”
“Just get it done, legionnaire. We’ll be there soon. Tyler, out.”
Ty taps the uni, kneels beside Cat. Putting her arm over his shoulder, he scoops her up. But Cat shakes her head, places one hand on his chest.
“N-no…,” she whispers. “Leave me, Ty.”
He raises that scarred eyebrow of his, and for a second, the charmer in him rises to the surface. “I didn’t know you were trying out for the comedy circuit?”
“I’m…serious,” she breathes. “Let me g-go.”
“No way.” He stands in one easy movement, Cat cradled in his arms. Her head lolls back, her body limp. But with visible effort, she pulls herself up so she can look him in the eye.
“I c-can see it, Ty,” she whispers. “And it can see all of you…th-through me.” She shakes her head, a kind of wonder creeping into her voice. “It’s so big, Ty. It’s so b-big and I’m falling into it and you have to let me g-go.”
“No,” he says.
“Please,” she begs.
“You listen to me, Brannock,” Ty says, his voice hard as steel despite the tears shining in his eyes. “We are the Aurora Legion, and we do not leave our people behind. Do you understand me?”
She licks her lips, eyes slipping closed.
“Legionnaire Brannock, I asked you a question!” he shouts.
Cat’s eyes flutter open and she draws a deep, shivering breath.
“Furthermore,” Ty continues, in his best parade-ground voice, “I shouldn’t have to remind you that I’m your superior officer. So if you’re considering lying down here, if you even think of cashing out on this drop, I’m going to kick your ass so hard the lump in your throat will be my fucking heel, is that understood?”
Tyler Jones, Squad Leader, First Class, doesn’t curse. Tyler Jones doesn’t do drugs or drink or do anything we mere mortals do for fun. I can’t remember the last time I heard him swear. I doubt Cat can, either.
“Is that understood?” Ty roars.
The words have the desired effect. Cat swallows hard and some focus returns to her eyes. Her grip on his shoulder tightening as she whispers.
“S-sir, y…”
“I can’t hear you, Legionnaire Brannock!”
Cat blinks hard, slowly nods. “Sir, yessir.”
Ty looks to Zila and me, his stare hard with command. I can see the leader in him, I can see our dad in him, burning so bright it makes me want to cry. To reach out and hug him, to tell him how proud he makes me. But instead, I stand at attention. Because that’s what legionnaires do.
“Scar, you’ve got point,” Ty orders. “Zila, watch our tails. We go hard and fast to the colony reactor tower, meet up with the squad. Anything gets in our way, we blast it back to the hells. Nobody in this unit is dying here today, am I clear?”
“Sir, yessir,” we reply.
“Right. Let’s move out.”
All around me, Tyler and his squad are transforming the reactor into the place we’ll make our stand. They’re hauling cabinets to block entrances, blasting vines away from windows, figuring out how to augment our defenses with what’s left here.
I’m wrestling with a solidly built table, turning it onto its side to lay in front of Cat, like a kind of last-ditch shield in case they come at us through the windows. My gaze meets Kal’s every minute or so—though he’s busy single-handedly matching the strength of half of us combined, he’s still waiting for me when I look his way.
My nerves are singing as I position the table in front of Cat. The GIA agents are coming for me, but I know they’ll take out everyone here. There’s no way back to the Longbow now without a battle, no chance to repair it, to escape. This is the place we’ll make our stand. And I’m terrified.
“The GIA shuttle is now inbound on our position.” Over by the window, Zila lowers her binoculars, calm as ever. “ETA three minutes.”
“Idea,” Scarlett says. “Could we use their ship to get back off-world?”
Finian rises up from where he’s crouching by a half-dissected computer system, moving with a soft whine of his servos. His containment unit has been rigged up to the core, in a tangle of cables and pipes that look held together by prayers and duct tape. Apparently his rig is synthesizing the elements we’ll need to repair the Longbow’s reactor for when we get out of here.
If we get out of here.
Limping to the window, he squints at the incoming ship, shakes his head.
“It’s just a puddle jumper,” he says. “Meant for short atmo-to-surface transit. If we want to get back through the Fold, we need the Longbow.” He looks at Tyler. “But that shuttle could get us back to the Longbow fast. If, say, we had a genius tactician with great hair and a daring plan to steal it.”
Tyler glances up from where he and Kal are mounting a disruptor rifle on a makeshift tripod near the window.
“I’m working on it,” he mutters.
“Well, while you find your hairbrush, I’m going up a level to main control,” Fin declares. “See if I can boost the output and override the safety protocols on the power supply.”
“What for?” Scar asks.
“I can run a current through the metallics in the structure. Gantries, stairwells, that kind of thing. Cut off access. Electrify them.”
“Won’t that electrify us, too?”
He shakes his head. “If we stick to the concrete, we’re fine. Before I was saddled with you pack of no-hopers, I was tinkering in the propulsion labs back at the academy in my spare time. I figured a way to give the basic DeBray power systems a seven percent bump, and I’m seeing a few similar components here.”
“The propulsion labs you were messing around in,” Tyler says. “Would those be the ones you irradiated?”
“Hey, don’t complain. You got out of your spatial dynamics exam, too.” He’s trying for his usual grin, but none of us have it in us right now.
“This sounds like a bad idea,” Ty says.
“Yeah, but they’re the only kind we have left. I can do this, Goldenboy.”
Tyler chews his lip and sighs. “Zila, go with him. See if you can help.”
“Yessir,” Zila says quietly, turning away from the window.
Tyler grabs Finian’s arm as he limps past. “Hey, listen up.”
He looks at me, lowers hi
s voice. But not quite enough.
“These agents are here for Auri.” He glances at Cat, back at Fin. “Letting them get hold of her isn’t a good idea. Can you rig something up quick? I mean, if it comes down to a choice between getting captured and…”
Finian meets Tyler’s eyes, all the jokes and bravado gone.
“I can do that.”
Tyler nods. And without another word, Fin and Zila head upstairs.
My breath’s coming too fast, my heart singing. The new parts of me are trying to push their way to the surface, but I don’t know how to control them, or how to just let them take me.
If it comes down to a choice between getting captured and…
How did this happen? How did we get here?
I flex my fingers and clench my fists, trying to get myself under control as I circle the table to sink down cross-legged beside Cat.
Everything around me is screaming at my nerves, sending my limbs tingling, the back of my neck buzzing with danger. I’m sure the plants and vines are monitoring us, that the pollen drifting in through one broken window and out through another is part of the way the planet’s keeping tabs on our every movement.
It’s pushing me close to the edge of my courage, but I feel it pushing me closer to the edge of something else as well.
I can feel myself on the verge of…
Cat stirs beside me, and I take her hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her lashes lift, and she fixes those flower-shaped pupils on me, her eyes the brightest blue. We gaze at each other for a long moment, and then she lets out a soft breath that’s edged with a moan.
“I can feel it,” she whispers, and I don’t know what to say, because I can, too. “It’s taking me.”
“We won’t let it,” I whisper in return.
She pins me with a look brimming with fear, with pain, with come on now, let’s not lie between the two of us, and my heart aches, because none of what’s on her face—on her slowly silvering skin—should be coming from a girl my age.
