by Lily Archer
“I’m okay.” I tell Uaxin in the mirror as Tilda scrubs. “I’ve had bullies like her before.” I don’t want to go into that part of my history. Then I realize there are several segments of my past that are better left alone. My mother, my disappearing act of a father, the cruel kids at school, the jerks like Van—it all makes me wonder why I want to return to that life. Is Ilwen a problem? Yes. But am I afraid? No. Not like I am when I walk through my front door every day after school when I know my mom’s home. And I have something here that I never had there—Ceredes, Kyte, and Jeren. Just the thought of them makes me tingle all over. The link I shared with Jeren last night changed me somehow, gave me a lifeline to him that feels like a bond. One that is unbreakable. All because we touched when the guys were all together around me. Will it be the same with Ceredes and Kyte?
“Which one are you daydreaming about?” Tilda wipes my cheek until it’s red, but the black marks are gone.
“All three.” At least my other cheek’s blush will match.
“I’m not judging. They are some mighty fine Alphas. Don’t you think so, Uaxin?”
Uaxin doesn’t respond, but she also doesn’t look angry anymore. So that’s a win.
Tilda peers at her handiwork. “All clean. Let’s get to the hangar. Hopefully, we’ll beat Master Daviti back. He tends to arrive a bit late, and often drunk.”
“Drunk?” I let her pull me back through the portal, and Uaxin follows.
She shrugs. “As flying instructors go, that’s pretty normal.”
“Flying?” I step from the portal and bump into a wall. Or, more accurately, Jeren’s back.
“—think that’s funny?” His voice is one hair shy of murder.
Ilwen backs away from him as Ceredes and Kyte hem her in from behind.
“It was just a prank.” She looks around, perhaps seeking help from her Justa and Unar. They don’t move.
“The next time you pull something like that.” Jeren cracks his neck in a decidedly unnerving way. “We’re going to have a problem, Omega.”
She turns to Ceredes and presses her hands to his chest. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that? I’m an Omega.”
I want to remove her hands at the wrists for touching him. Stepping around Jeren, I fist my hands and start for her, but his firm grip on my shoulder keeps me in place.
Ceredes glowers, his body tense. “I suggest from now on you think very carefully about bothering Lana.”
The other students crowd around, though none of them intervene. Gavros grins. He’s like a shark that’s tasted blood in the water.
Kyte circles around to Ilwen’s back. “Do something like that again, and I’ll show up in your dreams. I can find your worst fears, pull them out, and make them come to life for you.”
“Ceredes, please.” Ilwen’s voice cracks. “He’s threatening me. You’re Alpha commander, and you should—”
“You heard him.” Ceredes lifts his gaze to Kyte, unspoken agreement passing between them. “Lana is off limits.”
“Ceredes.” She actually sounds hurt. I would feel sorry for her, but the stinging in my freshly-scrubbed cheek prevents it.
On a sob, Ilwen pushes through the crowd and opens a portal, then disappears through it. Her minions Justa and Unar seem glued in place, their gazes on Kyte and Ceredes as they walk over to me.
Jeren turns me around and strokes my cheek. “It’s all gone.”
“You okay?” Ceredes asks.
Kyte touches my arm, his calming presence percolating through me.
“I’m okay.” I glance to where Ilwen disappeared. “But I think Ilwen may have peed herself.”
“Good.” Jeren grins. “Serves her right.”
“Pillars, that was some choice entertainment.” Tilda elbows in between Jeren and Ceredes. “The look on her face will be something I treasure for—”
“All right, grunts!” A gangly-armed man—male, I suppose—strides in, hiccups, then pushes his white cap back on his forehead.
I take a step back, right into Jeren’s arms. “Three eyes. He’s got—”
“A pilot’s greatest asset is timeliness.” He takes a swig from some sort of black canteen, rinses his mouth, then spits. The metal floor sizzles. “Timeliness? Did I say timeliness?” He laughs, the sound high and verging on insane. “I meant liveliness, of course. Staying alive. I’m still here.” He takes a swig and swallows this time. “Oh, Pillars, I’m still here.” He sounds like he might cry.
I expect him to choke on whatever he swallowed, but he seems fine, though his steps are wobbly as he approaches the class.
“Here we go.” Ceredes turns to the students. “Alphas, Betas, Omegas, in line!” His barked command gets everyone moving.
“You, too, Lana.” Kyte escorts me to the Omega line where Unar and Justa scoot away from me. “Have fun.” He takes his spot in the Alpha queue.
“New Omega, eh?” the teacher asks.
I whirl and meet three bloodshot eyes. A yelp escapes me as he leans closer and peers into my face. “I’m Master Daviti. Flying instructor. You are?”
“Lana.” I force myself to stay put during his inspection. After all, I can’t spend my time here running and screaming every time I’m faced with a three-eyed, gangly-armed, drunken alien, can I?
“What are you?” He sniffs.
I get a whiff of something that smells a lot like gasoline, if gasoline were mixed with battery acid and burnt toast. “Human.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” He straightens, belches, and staggers down the short line of Omegas.
I glance at Kyte. He shrugs and gives me a cocky smile. Ceredes remains stoic, and Jeren twirls a blade in his palm but keeps me in his sights. I marvel at how quickly I’ve come to rely on them. At home, I had a few friends, most of them kept at arm’s length. I didn’t tell anyone about my mom. After all, being sent to some foster home to be abused or forgotten or sold in human trafficking didn’t seem like a better alternative to taking a few hits. (I wouldn’t let myself consider the possibility of a better situation like a foster parent who cared.) Besides, I intended to leave home within the next few months. I would graduate, get a job, and go out on my own, somewhere far away from my mother’s anger. Instead, here I am in an alien academy, learning about this new galaxy and forming bonds. The idea of going home is already fading. Maybe—I look at all three of them—maybe this is my new home.
“It is.” Kyte’s voice tiptoes across my heart.
“Knock it off.” I shoot him a sharp look.
“Sorry.” He shrugs, the picture of ‘not sorry at all.’
“Let’s take out some of those new V-11 birds today.” Master Daviti points to one spaceship.
“That’s the Falarin 10, Master.” Tilda points farther down the line. “Those are the V-11s.”
He turns and shades his eyes from the glare of … well, there’s no sun in the hangar, so I’m not sure why he’s shading his eyes. “Right you are, cadet. Let’s move on down to the V-11s, then. Wait, there aren’t enough, even if I’m seeing extra.” He waves his hand in front of his face. “Omegas, you get the V-11s, Betas and Alphas, you get the Falarin 10s. At least four to a ship. I’ll be on comms.” He taps the side of his nose. “Get a move on. First one in gets to be the captain.”
The Alphas take off at a run, the Betas not far behind.
“Come on!” Tilda grabs my arm and pulls me down the line of enormous aircraft.
“Wait, we’re supposed to fly these on our own?” Excitement and horror mix as I stare up at the sleek aircraft Tilda is aiming for. Blue lights streak down its black sides, the front is pointed, and the wings are long and striated, sort of like a fin.
“I’ve been taking flying lessons since I could walk. Haven’t you?” She pulls me into the back of the craft, and I follow her past what I assume is a cargo area and into the cockpit. Three seats are along the front window, and one is toward the back.
“What are these for?”
“Pil
ot.” She sits in the middle seat. “Co-pilot.” She points to her right, and I take that chair. “Co-pilot.” She points to her left. “And, in the back, primary gunner. Though, of course, our controls can also handle the guns. But when you’re in a real firefight, you need someone who isn’t distracted with flying.”
“Have you ever been in a real firefight?”
“Of course not.” She taps something on the control panel, and a clear screen, perfectly angled toward her, pops up out of nowhere.
Another cadet climbs aboard, though he grumbles loudly about not getting the pilot seat.
I look over at him as he settles into the other co-pilot seat. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I’m Lana.”
“I know.” He gives me an appraising look. “Everyone knows the Omegas.”
“Stop being a cad and introduce yourself.” Tilda presses a series of buttons on the screen, and the back door closes, the machine rumbles, and I grab the seat arms for dear life.
“I’m Avriante Havaniedes Luranin.”
Tilda frowns. “He’s Avri, an Omega, when he’s not being full of himself.”
He scowls, then shrugs. “Avri.”
“Nice to meet you,” I offer.
“Same.” He flings a long blue braid over his shoulder.
“Ready?” Tilda glances at me.
“How do I do the screen thing?”
Avri groans. “I hate new ones.”
“Shut it.” Tilda snaps at him, then smiles at me. “Hold your hand up. No, not like that. No. No. Like you’re washing a window. Yes.”
A screen pops to life in front of me. “What’s it made of?” I press it with my finger and it’s solid. Something on the ship starts chirping in alarm, and Tilda reaches over and presses a green button.
“General tip for any flying machines. Don’t press it if it’s red.” She settles back in her chair as I try to figure out what the buttons do and follow the scrolling line of text at the top. All systems go. Flight prepared. Guns disarmed. Virudivan engines online. Atmosphere thinning with a southwesterly wind.”
“Cadets.” Master Daviti’s wobbly voice comes through from all around. “Take the birds out for a nice, easy flight. Stay on planet. None of you are ready for space yet. Omegas first, then Alphas, then Betas. Follow my lead.” He chuckles. “If you can.”
“He’s on the sauce a bit early today.” Avri swipes his screen away.
I copy his movement and do the same.
He notices. “Co-pilots can take over if need be, but the main controls—and the ones that matter—are in Tilda’s hands. So you may as well sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“I see.” Why do I feel disappointed? It’s not like I have any clue how to pilot an airship, especially not this one.
I turn to look at the long row of ships, all of them humming to life, some of them louder than others. Which ones are Kyte, Jeren, and Ceredes on?
The whine of metal catches my attention, and I look toward the back of the ship. The rear door opens, and a high lavender ponytail appears.
“Great.” Tilda rolls her eyes as Ilwen plops into the gunner chair.
“It was the only ship still available.” She sniffles, then wipes her face, her gaze sticking to mine. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” I turn back around as the door shuts.
“Won’t this be fun?” Tilda goes back to her screen, then swipes it away. “Let’s go.” A stick forms in front of her from the same sort of nothing as the screen. But she grabs it with both hands. “I like it manual.” She waggles her brows at me.
“Okay?” I squeeze the arms of my seat as we begin to roll forward.
“First out.” Tilda nods. “Maybe we’ll be the ones to catch Master Daviti.”
“Catch him?” I try to control my fear as we roll out of the hangar and into the sun.
“That’s him.” She points to a rusty gray aircraft ahead of us. It looks more like what I’m used to—wide wings and a narrow body. But the blue engine glow is definitely different.
“It’s so … old looking.” It feels weird to say it, given that whatever technology they’re using is far beyond anything of human invention.
“He fought in the last Sentient War. He was flying that thing three-hundred years ago.” Avri kicks one foot up on the control panel.
Tilda smacks it away.
“Three-hundred?” I gawk.
“So?” Avri doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that Master Daviti is at least three centuries old. “Anyway, he flew that ship for every one of his missions for the fleet. He won’t fly anything else.”
“He’s the last one.” Tilda makes that odd sign over her body again, like some sort of prayer. “All the other fighter pilots in his squadron died in the war.”
“Wow.” I stare at the gray ship as it lifts off with ease. “No wonder he drinks.”
“Right.” Tilda pulls back on the stick and we rise straight up.
I bite my tongue by accident. “Shit. You could’ve warned me.”
“You’re in an airship, what did you think we were going to do? Sit on the ground all day?” She leans up in her seat, her hands at ease on the stick between her knees as she watches Master Daviti hover just ahead of us. “He’s tricky, but if we manage to shoot him down, it’ll guarantee us a spot of honor at the ball.”
“What is the ball?” I think I’ve heard it mentioned before.
“Big party at the end of the school term.”
“So, like prom?”
Avri and Tilda exchange a perplexed look.
I skip the explanation. “And then what? A break for summer?” Will I get to go back to Earth?
Ilwen snorts. “No, then it’s next term. The fleet doesn’t give breaks.”
“I need you on your game, Ilwen.” Tilda looks at her.
“Don’t worry about me,” she snipes right back. “I’m not the newbie here.”
I ignore her and stare out at the academy grounds. The tops of the dorms glisten in the distance, and the nearby forest is a slash of deep green. It’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen on Earth, and I can only imagine what the rest of this flight holds.
“There he goes.” Tilda grins as Master Daviti’s ship darts forward. “Hey, V-11.”
“Online.” A robotic voice speaks from everywhere.
“Play some Granterrian beats.”
A thick, thumping sound fills the cabin and creates a buzz inside me. When Tilda holds out her hand, a second lever appears from the invisible material and molds itself to her fingers. “Time to fly.” She pushes it forward, and the ship shoots through the sky.
“Holy shit.” I hold on, but I don’t have to. I can’t feel the motion. I can see it—the ground whizzing by in a blur, but there isn’t any pressure. It’s nothing like being on an airplane. I may as well be sitting in my living room, though the view here is far, far better.
I keep my eye on Master Daviti’s ship as he speeds away. “Is his faster?”
“No.” Tilda frowns. “At least it shouldn’t be. This ship is the newest tech. His is ancient. But he’s got that special something only true pilots have.”
“Do you have it?” I gasp as we head straight toward what looks like a glass dome that covers the entire academy. “Watch out!”
I throw up my hands to shield my face, but we sail through the barrier.
Ilwen forces a hard laugh. “Look at you. It’s like showing an animal a portal door.”
I’ve already had enough of her, and we’ve only been on the ship together for a few minutes. Right when I decide to turn around and let her have it, Tilda says, “Master Daviti can open the academy shields. It’s kind of necessary for a flight teacher.”
“Mmhmm.” I blink. Then blink again. “Wait, where’d he go?”
A larger ship cruises past us on our right.
“Whoa.” Avri taps a button on his screen. “Too close, Alpha 7.”
“Stop being a crybaby,” a gruff vo
ice filters over the thumping beat.
“Gavros.” I give his ship my best stink-eye.
“Is that my sweet little human Omega?”
“Get off their comms, asshole.” Ceredes’s voice cuts through everything. “They might need it for the exercise.”
Gavros grumbles, but his voice fades out, and the music comes back full force.
A few more ships have overtaken us, their blue thrusters bright even in the daylight.
“No, seriously. Where did he go?” I peer down at the landscape. It’s craggy with trees growing thick in deep ravines. A waterfall glistens up ahead; otherwise, one spot of terrain out here looks just like every other spot.
“He could be anywhere. That ship of his still has a functioning cloaking device. We usually don’t see him until he shoots us down.”
“Wait, so he’s trying to kill us, too?”
“Not kill us. We’re all shooting blanks. No energy cores are in the guns. But once you’re tagged, you’re out.” Tilda swivels her head to the right. “Case in point.”
One of the ships that looks like ours is blinking red and losing altitude.
“He’s already taken one out.” Avri sighs.
My heart races, excitement flooding me as I scan the horizon. “Has anyone ever shot him down?”
Tilda snorts. “Never.”
I watch the way Tilda maneuvers the stick, memorizing how it works, and I keep up with each button she presses on her screen as we zoom across the landscape. It’s not so different than the online games I play, and the controls seem to form around whatever command Tilda gives. Just the flick of her wrist can have the material rearranging itself. If it can do that for her, it can reform as my gamer setup for me.
We’re in the air for over an hour, and I spend each moment learning how the aircraft functions, but eventually Master Daviti shoots each one of us down. The entire flight is exhilarating, and I promise myself that next time, I’ll be the one in the pilot seat.
14
Ceredes
She sits beside me in almost all our classes for the rest of the day. Each breath she takes is a distraction, each moment spent with her like the pull of a dark star. My blood roars through me, and I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to feel the circle bond with her.