“You’ve done this before, yes? I saw it in you.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. But it hadn’t been like this. She’d been running, afraid, fighting for her life when she’d smashed the drone in the city. Once, she’d directed a view screen to fly into Guitteriez and kill him, another time she’d made data tablets and loose papers fly around Kieran’s room, completely unaware she was doing it.
Roelle was waiting, and Sarrin grunted, trying to ready her mind. Roelle said this was an exercise they taught children, the ash light and easy to shape. She’d passed harder tests in Evangecore. It should not have been difficult.
The monster whispered to her: it was because she was a killer. Playing with ash in a burnt valley held no promise of destruction. It was already dead, she would need to find something alive and breathing.
Her gaze caught on Roelle, going dark around the edges.
Quickly, she pushed it away, and focussed on the scattered debris. She reached her mind out to it, attempting to grasp it, to connect with it. But it was true, it was already dead, there was nothing there.
A black tendril crawled across her vision, and she shoved it down, redoubling her efforts on the ash pile.
“Don’t focus only on the ash. It is not alone, everything is connected. Cast your gaze wide.”
Sarrin looked up at the Agada woman, and Roelle spread her arms. The trees shimmered in the wind, their branches flipping almost in unison. At the same time, the ash, as far as Sarrin could see, stirred and then lit into the sky like a flock of birds. As if they were alive, ash birds swooped and called, dancing in the sky above them for a full minute until they landed on the ground and melted into nothing.
How could she breathe life into something so dead?
The Agada only smiled, gesturing to the pile of ash she had neatly placed in front of Sarrin once more. But, her ear turned suddenly to the side, expression far away. “The trees speak. Do you hear?”
It was not the first time it had happened, and Sarrin shrugged the same as every time before. Roelle claimed the trees brought her messages of what was happening in the forest, that once they had told the Uruhu the goings on of the entire planet, every tribe and scouting party, even the goral they hunted for meat, known to each other.
This time, a familiar pang tickled Sarrin, surprising and disconcerting. But not unfamiliar. She had no idea how she knew it, only that she did: Kieran was here.
“More of your kind are arriving,” Roelle said.
Sarrin was already running, climbing the slippery ash slope to the path above, oblivious to the Agada woman calling out behind her; oblivious to anything in her surroundings. Her legs only knew to pound the dirt as fast as they could as she cut through the trees, sprinting through the maze of woods.
* * *
Kieran landed, his arms instinctively shooting out to balance himself. Around him, Augments appeared out of nowhere. Adeina stumbled and fell, and he reached out to grab her arm.
He let her go just as quickly, hissing as she clutched onto his arm and the still mostly-raw flesh.
“Thanks,” she said quickly, frowning at his sudden pain.
He waved her off, and tried to take a step forward to get out of the landing-zone. It was chaos, and he bumped straight into an Augment as he appeared.
Hoepe landed, staring at a data tablet in his hand that quickly vanished. He grunted, meeting Kieran’s gaze. “She said the others were in a village not far from here.”
“A village?” Kieran raised his eyebrow. “This is Etar's forest preserve.” It had to be, taller trees than he’d ever seen before surrounded him. Not even the fruit trees that grew in the hydroponic gardens could compare. If the landing of over a hundred people hadn’t been so chaotic, and if his skin hadn’t smarted so much, he would have been in awe.
Hoepe shrugged, seemingly unfazed as he alternated between scanning his tablet and the forest in front of them.
“How d’you suppose we find them?” Kieran asked. But he didn’t need to.
Fast moving footsteps, lots of them, shook the forest floor. The warriors appeared all at once, dark skinned and clad in animal hides and bones. The nearest hefted a spear, pointing it at Kieran’s throat. Beside him, Hoepe faced the same treatment.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” the first shouted in a deep guttural tone, his mouth moving around the words as though they were foreign.
Hoepe slowly lifted his hands, and Kieran did the same. “Easy fellas.”
“Are you here with the captain?” shouted the second warrior.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kieran met Hoepe’s gaze, noting the slight nod the doctor gave him. He answered the warrior, “Yeah. That’s right.”
“He said he would bring no more.” The warrior glanced at the others behind them, his mouth dropping. “You are all two-blooded?”
Kieran frowned at Hoepe in confusion.
“Like the two women and the man with his strange skin?” the warrior clarified.
“Strange skin?” Kieran muttered, looking down at his own rippled arms.
“Grant,” said Hoepe, his arms still up in surrender. “Yes, yes. We know Grant. Most of us are Augments, like him.”
The warrior turned away, gesturing and speaking to another in a language Kieran didn’t understand before the other sprinted into the forest.
“You are not meant to be here,” the warrior announced, but he eased the spear off of Kieran’s neck. His strange, pale eyes scanned Kieran up and down. “What happened to you?”
“Uh.” Kieran’s heart raced. “It’s a long story.”
“You’re uglier than a goral’s insides.”
“What?”
“Kieran!” a voice shouted across the clearing. He knew the voice, even before he saw her sprinting through the trees. Sarrin.
She slipped through the guards, startling them as she knocked their spears away without a second glance.
His heart thrashed around in his chest, crashing against his ribs with joy. A smile spread on his face, and he instinctively braced and opened his arms in anticipation.
She skidded to a halt a step away from him. Near enough to touch.
His heart still crashed around, his eyes drinking in all of her — the crystalline blue of her wide eyes, the smudge of dirt on her cheek, the pale skin stretched across her cheek bones.
It took all that he had not to step forward and wrap her in his arms. But this was still Sarrin, half-wild, her eyes unreadable. As the seconds ticked by, he realized he had no idea how she felt. He’d stayed for her. He’d given up everything, he knew, for her. What if it had been a mistake?
Her hand came up, touching the rippled skin of his face, radiating soothing warmth. He sighed, pressing into her palm, savouring the touch.
He smiled.
She smiled back.
He was home.
* * *
In the Agada’s hut, Gal leaned over the rough map Urubane had provided. It had been drawn in white ink on dried leaves fortified with the dark sap they used for everything. More leaves had been added as they mapped additional sectors of the city, and he had to admit it was incredibly accurate, marking the streets and city squares, and the extensive network of tunnels they had dug under the city.
Beside him, Rayne traced the line of one of the tunnels. “I think that’s the one Urubane took us down when we left the city.”
Gal nodded, but he had his eye on another tunnel. “This one takes us nearly to the Armoury.”
“We can’t fight our way off the planet.”
“No, but if we can find uniforms, disguise ourselves, it will be easier to sneak aboard the orbital stations and commandeer a ship.”
It sounded cracked even as it left his mouth, and frustration spread across Rayne’s face. She rubbed her temples. It had been her idea to steal a UEC ship and disappear into the Deep, Deep Black, but even Gal, in all his years with the rebels, had never considered something as spread as trying to steal a ship. Certai
nly not one big enough for all of them. Besides, where would they go?
“Maybe we should try to get hold of Cordelia again,” Rayne suggested.
Gal shook his head. “There no telling when she's coming back.”
“There has to be some way to get ahold of her, to tell her what it’s like here.”
“She can turn into a planet that looks perfect on the sensors from lightyears away, I don't know what her range is exactly, but I'd guess she already knows.”
The creak of the hut door interrupted Rayne. Urubane pushed inside, leaning on the doorframe to take the weight off his injured leg and glaring ferociously. “More have arrived.”
“What?”
“Yes. Nearly one hundred. They say they are well enough now to come to the planet.”
“Where are they?”
“They enter the village was we speak. The Agada brings them.” He shook his head, the tone of his voice saying he didn’t approve, but said no more.
Gal glanced at Rayne. If more were arriving, that meant Cordelia was here. He pushed past Urubane. “Where are they?”
Urubane hobbled after them. “They bring them to the fires. How many are there? The village cannot hold more.”
Gal took a sharp turn, heading for the communal eating area at the edge of the village. He heard them before he saw them. The Uruhu warriors arrived first, a stream of Augments pouring from between the trees behind them.
They quickly filled the small clearing, the weakest — those supported by others — took space on the benches, while the others stood or sat on the ground, packed around each other.
“It is too many,” Urubane huffed beside him.
Gal clenched his jaw. Urubane was right. They had nearly run the food stores dry, and with this many, they would be camping in the woods. If there was a gas attack, they would be squeezing over and under each other in every hut to try to fit everyone in.
Hoepe emerged from the woods, Kieran beside him, clutching Sarrin’s hand, and Gal felt the breath rush out of him. “Thank the Gods,” he muttered.
The doctor and Kieran made their way to him immediately, pushing through the crowd.
“How many?” Gal blurted. He couldn’t believe he was seeing so many Augments, still streaming out of the woods.
“Geez,” said Kieran. “How ‘bout nice to see ya?”
Gal stared at the engineer’s ruined skin. It was good to see him, alive, off the ship, smiling.
“Two-hundred-seventeen,” Hoepe answered crisply. “Half remain on board where Cordelia can support their intense medical needs.”
“And settlers?” He knew he was snapping, the words falling out faster and harsher than he meant, but he needed to know. “Did you find any still alive?”
Hoepe nodded crisply. “Nearly two dozen.”
“That’s all?”
“Their conditions were harsh.”
“And what about Selousa?” he interrupted. “Did you go to Selousa? Was there a settler named Minerva?”
Hoepe glanced down at his tablet.
He needed to know. He knew he was being ridiculous, nearly crawling out of his own skin. The fact there so many still alive should have been good news, it was good news. But he needed to know.
He thought of Aaron, and he thought of Minerva. Her and her friends on the Ishash’tor, on his ship, hauled to Selousa like cargo. Minerva’s face as she stood at the wall and plunged herself into that hostile, barren landscape.
If she was dead…. He should have…. He should have taken them all away. Turned the ship and run, taken them all into the Deep, Deep Black when he’d had the chance. But he’d been too afraid of the Speakers. Too concerned about his own life, his own comfort.
If she was dead.
Hoepe must have see the agony on his face, because he glanced up from his notes, his voice trying to be comforting. “I don’t know. They were all far gone, Gal. Many remain on board where Cordelia is supporting their intense medical needs. However, they cannot leave her ship without her pulling back all of her influence which is currently keeping them alive.”
His eyes flicked to the edge of the woods, the stream of Augments slowing now. At the very last, one of the Augments came into the clearing, carrying a frail woman, skin hanging off her bones. He did a double take; it was her. Gal pushed his way through the crowd, reaching them as the Augment lowered her, and Minerva half-sat, half-fell onto the nearest log.
He heard Rayne behind him: “Tell Cordelia we need her to pick us up. It isn’t safe here.”
“Minerva,” he breathed, uncertain.
She glanced up. She looked nothing like she used to, skin grey and hanging off her — he would have mistaken her for one of the little grey demons that plagued him, had it not been for her flame of auburn hair and the same familiar determination in her eyes. “Gal,” she wheezed.
He glanced worriedly from her angled cheekbones to her pointed elbows, knock-knees poked through tattered and brown-with-dust clothes. She adjusted herself so she could face him more easily, and saluted.
Rayne, behind him, said again, “Call Cordelia.”
“Cordelia told me to tell you specifically you can’t come back,” Kieran said.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of Minerva. What she had become. Because of him.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thank you? I’m so sorry.” He crouched down, taking her hands.
Behind him, Urubane said, “There are too many.”
“We need to find medical supplies,” said Hoepe. “Cordelia is only able to support the wounded to a certain extent. Without proper supplies we cannot treat the injured permanently.”
“No, trust me, our priority is to get off this planet as fast as we can,” said Rayne, frantic. “If Cordelia is in orbit, she can pick us up.”
Minerva gripped his hands with what strength she had. She had been so fierce once. What had he done? She smiled gently, and whispered. “The rations — I know you sent them. We held on just long enough for the rescue to come.”
Behind him, the others bickered.
“If your ship is here, you must go,” said Urubane.
“We can’t,” said Kieran.
“It’s too dangerous here,” cried Rayne. “We need a ship to take us to the Deep, Deep Black, it’s the only way!”
“Rayne.” Gal half turned, not daring taking his eyes off Minerva. Arguing would get them nowhere. There were a lot of people, a lot of very sick people. But Minerva was here, she was alive. That had to give them a little bit of hope, right?
“Cordelia is here, Gal!” Rayne cried.
Hoepe put his hand up. “She has graciously agreed to wait in orbit until such time as we can treat the others and they are capable of leaving the ship without dying. We need to go into the city to find medical supplies. Cordelia is tired. We have asked a lot of her already.”
Gal gave Minerva’s hand a squeeze.
“The city’s too dangerous. It will be crawling with surveillance drones and foot soldiers.” Rayne glanced at him. “They know the Augments are here, everyone will know after we left Alex’s body in the central square.”
“Alex is dead?” Kieran gasped.
Minerva squeezed Gal’s hand back, her eyes locked on his.
Hoepe’s back had gone completely stiff, an immutable board. “How did Alex die?”
“UECs!” cried Rayne. “Tell her it isn’t safe here. We need to get all these people to safety.”
“Rayne,” he said, finally turning, “calm down.” Minerva was here. She was alive. Not all was lost.
“Never give up the fight,” said Minerva. “We only survived because of the rations you left us.”
Behind, Rayne gasped, “Rations?” but Gal ignored it. He’d admit later how he snuck the extra container of supplies and weapons to the settlers as they departed the Ishash’tor, right under her meticulously watchful eye.
Minerva continued, “There were no other colonists on Selousa when we went through the wall, just b
ony corpses and mad-men. I regret we had to use the rifles…. They were wild, cannibalistic, they would have killed every last one of us. By rationing, all twelve of us survived.” She lifted her bone-thin arms. “Mostly.”
Gal returned her smile.
“I’m glad you’re here.” She clamped his arm with bony fingers. “We all thought you’d died. What other reason would there be for you to abandon us, to give up the fight. We’ve tried to carry on, but there are so few of us, and they caught us meeting in the cellar of a cafe and sent us to the planet — no questions, no rehabilitation, nothing. They sent us to die. But, Gal, now that you’re here….”
He cut her off with a shake of his head, pulling his hand back as he stood. The warm joy of seeing Minerva alive and the fit of nostalgia it brought was starting to fade, the harsh reality of the last four years digging into him again. “I don’t do that anymore. John P is dead.”
She stared up at him from bagged eyes, her mouth hanging slightly agape. “You’ve lost the fight.”
The words hung in the air, stinging. But he took a deep breath. “It’s too dangerous, you know that.” He pressed his lips together, half-expecting Aaron to show up beside him, but Minerva was reminder enough. His fist clenched. It was too dangerous. It really was. “You saw what happened to everyone. To Aaron. To you.”
“Too dangerous?” She stood on shaky legs, pressing an accusing finger to his chest. “When has that ever stopped you? When has that ever mattered? You were—.”
He stopped her with a sharp glance before she said, glancing warily at Rayne.
All eyes were suddenly on him. “What’s she talking about?” asked Rayne.
Minerva stumbled, falling back to her seat with a huff, and he realized just how weak she was. And if she was on the ‘healthy’ ones who were able to come down to the planet, he didn’t want to see the others. “Whoever you are now,” she said between heavy breaths, “whoever you were then, it doesn’t matter. You know what they’re capable of, you’ve seen it. Don’t tell me you can just walk away. Not when we have a chance to do something.”
“There is no chance, Minerva. They’re too powerful. They always win. The Will of the Gods is too strong. Rayne’s right, we have to leave. Cordelia is our best chance.”
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