Hybrid: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 4)

by Valerie J Mikles

  “What did you do? Where are we?” he asked, blinking away the haze. His eyes kept clouding. From some angles, he could only see the marble they were in, but with a slight turn of his head, he could see a thousand others.

  “This is the Spirit Realm,” Liza smiled. “This is my healing space. I activated your eyes.”

  Her hand felt solid in his, and he held on tightly, heart pounding. Liza glowed with a bluish tint and had the silhouette of an angel. Her arms looped around his chest, and he leaned his head against her, feeling both warm and cold.

  “You gave me Hawk’s eyes, you mean,” he whispered. His skin hurt, and he shuddered. Closing his eyes, he pressed his head against her chest and clung to her. This realm felt more familiar to him when it was shrouded in darkness. The light brought confusion.

  “Not exactly. I just used his to figure out… it won’t last.” Liza touched his eyelids, and the sting made him flinch, but he opened his eyes. The sooner he saw what she wanted him to see, the sooner she’d let him go.

  “This is my bubble. It’s light,” she said, carrying him through the boundary of the marble, moving with translucent wings. The space outside was suffocating, and Kerris held his breath instinctively.

  Liza’s bubble glowed blue and green. There was more space between the marbles than he’d thought from inside. There were a few nearby, but the rest were scattered like stars, out of reach. “That grey one is yours. I pulled you from there. When you push, it moves and knocks into other bubbles. That’s how you move things in the physical realm. Your hands come out, but your face was always covered until now.”

  The grey bubble looked like a dark, cold lump, dead compared to the other spheres in the realm. One glowed red, another glowed blue like Liza’s. The rest had subtler colors. There was light inside, but they didn’t shine. Kerris reached out for his marble, yearning to bring it closer, and was shocked to see his hands. They were scaly and gray, like lizard hands.

  “Can I go back there?” Kerris asked, closing his eyes again and clinging to his sister.

  “So long as we don’t lose the bubble, and you don’t let go, I should be able to,” she shrugged.

  “Should?” Kerris shuddered and Liza hugged him, kissing softly at the corner of his eyes.

  “I won’t let go,” she assured.

  “Why won’t it last? My vision?” he asked, trembling as he spoke. He always knew that Liza saw the world differently, but he’d never imagined this. People were no different than objects with these eyes.

  “Okay, I didn’t activate your eyes. I did take Hawk’s. You didn’t have any eyes!” she said defensively, perching them on the edge of his grey bubble. The bubble started glowing as soon as his feet touched the edge. It felt cold and soft, more like a jellyfish than a marble. Kerris felt safer, calmer, and more whole simply being in contact with it. His feet sank into the surface, and the pain on his skin subsided. Liza touched his cheek tenderly, turning his head.

  “Doesn’t he need his eyes?” Kerris asked.

  “He didn’t want to see anyway,” Liza mumbled. “So we let his crew find him, and we stay here until the trouble goes away. It’s the perfect solution.”

  “Why is everyone a marble except us?” Kerris forced his eyes open, waited for the Spirit Realm to focus, and stared. Glistening, gold threads seemed to rise from the bubble, like thin hairs. When Kerris blinked, the hairs were gone. He turned his head, trying to find them again, but maybe he’d imagined them.

  “They aren’t marbles. They’re in marbles. A great big ball of memories.” Liza’s grip loosened and Kerris dug his strange lizard fingers into her skin, flailing his legs.

  “My bubble,” he whimpered, closing his eyes again. The further he floated from the bubble, the more flayed his skin felt.

  “We don’t need it. Not if we stay here. We can stay here forever,” Liza said dreamily. “You don’t have to see it to enjoy it, but at least you have seen it now.”

  His eyes filled with tears and his heart with panic. “Liza, I need my body,” he sobbed. He looked at her, but his vision faded in and out. His stomach leapt into his throat, like he was falling, and suddenly, they were back in the physical realm. Kerris awoke on the hard-packed dirt floor, hearing Liza call his name. His skin burned. He tried to roll—to put out the fire, but his limbs were numb and unresponsive. There was blood on his face, and when he tried to open his eyes, everything was black.

  “Liza, I can’t see,” he called out. He could hear the walls rattling. Dust shook loose from the ceiling, agitating his burning skin.

  “Lie still. I’m going to heal you,” she said, brushing his hair back. Her hot tears fell on his cheeks, making his wounds sting.

  “Liza!” There was a surge of heat, and he no longer felt her hand in his. He lay on the floor, blind, and alone.

  “Liza!” he screamed. Pain consumed him, and he cried out in agony, no longer caring about controlling the quaking city. If he’d been a normal kid, he’d have died with the rest of Boone. He never would have suffered.

  33

  The flames rose over the platform serving as the execution stage, the smoke choking Kerris’ lungs, stinging his eyes. Liza was tied next to him on the pyre, but he blocked her thoughts. She remained unapologetic for her role in their death sentence at the hand of the Gavameti, and blamed him for not running sooner. Kerris couldn’t take his eyes off of his wife.

  Nalia’s legs were broken, her arms bound, but she fought with all that was within her to get into the fire—not to save him; only to join him. Kerris held her back with his spirit arms, hoping to comfort her in his last moments. A part of him looked forward to death. Then the fire reached the soles of his feet, burning through the rope that bound his legs. Burning his legs.

  The ground rumbled in response to his pain, dislodging the supports on the platform. Kerris released Nalia, shifting his spirit hands to keep himself and Liza from falling into the flames. Liza screamed. The weapon triggered. In a flash, Nalia vanished, turned to dust. Kerris had seen it a dozen times before, but this time, it felt like a piece of himself had turned to dust.

  “Liza!” he cried. He would have preferred death over watching another family vanish.

  “Better them than us!” she retorted.

  “You couldn’t have done something before they set us on fire?” Kerris griped.

  “You didn’t want me to,” she said. “I tried not to interfere, Kerris. I can’t die for you. Not like this.”

  Using his spirit hands, Kerris untied himself, then Liza. His legs were burnt to a crisp from the knees down and he couldn’t move.

  “Put the fire out. The fire!” Kerris cried.

  “I’m trying. I’ve been trying!” Liza exclaimed.

  Kerris grasped for water. The Gavameti had a tank nearby to extinguish the flame after the execution. Kerris swirled the clouds in to help.

  “Liza, help me,” he begged.

  “You can do it, Kerris.” Even in his mind, she sounded weak. The rain started, and the fire went out. Kerris crawled on his elbows from the smoldering pyre, landing on the fine dust—all that was left of his wife and his Gavameti family. He felt Liza lay her head on his back, her body quaking as she sobbed. He didn’t ask how she was. He didn’t want to be near her. But when he tried to get away, he couldn’t move his legs. Now that he was off the pyre, there was nothing for his hands to grasp.

  “Hold still. I’m going to try something,” she said, wiping her tears on her sleeve. She glowed like the embers, though her clothing wasn’t even singed.

  “What are you going to try? Liza, tell me,” he begged.

  “It’s a new trick I discovered. I’ll restore your legs,” she sniffled, her hands raking through the dust that was once their family, then spreading it over his skin. It was strange, but it cooled the burns. “I hope I can heal you. Hold still, Kerris. I love you.”

  Hawk laid on the floor of the avalan quarry, writhing in pain. He could feel the bleeding gaps where Liza had ripped out h
is spirit eyes, and it made the rest of his ghost form all the more palpable. He didn’t have long, extendable arms like Kerris, but he had wings like Liza. They were massive and soft, like a blanket, and he used them to cover his face, protecting the open wound.

  Help!

  Hawk tensed, recognizing the sound of Kerris’ voice in his head. Crawling to the edge of the avalan pit, he found a spade to swipe with. He could pull Liza out of the other realm—she’d proven that.

  Kerris, take my hand, Hawk called. The quarry rocked, a whirlwind stirring up the dust. Then the ground shook and Kerris fell on top, bringing storm-force winds with him.

  “I’ve got you. You’re free,” Hawk whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, holding on to Kerris. He could feel the vibrations through his ghost body driving the wind. Kerris fought back tears and writhed in Hawk’s arms, his anguish making the machines in the quarry rattle.

  She mutilated you, he moaned, his voice booming in Hawk’s mind. Mutilated me!

  “I know,” Hawk whispered. “I got a message to Sky. She’s coming for us.”

  For you, Kerris corrected. He tensed and shuddered, kicking up a whirlwind again, waving his hands around his face as though fending off a swarm of insects. Or light from eyes he wasn’t used to possessing.

  The wind stopped, and Hawk heard an oomph as Liza hit the ground. Hawk’s breath quickened and he hugged Kerris tighter, squinting his eyes, but unable to make out her hazy, blue aura. The ache spread to his real eyes when he felt Liza’s hand on his cheek.

  “Don’t touch me,” he said, sniffing and turning away. It felt like there was blood in his nose and mouth, and on his eyes.

  “I’m trying to help,” she said, retracting her hand. She spoke aloud, letting his Virp translate for him.

  “You’ve done enough,” Hawk muttered. Kerris cried out, and Hawk realized he was squeezing the man too hard. He adjusted his hold on Kerris, but Kerris writhed and moaned.

  “I’m sorry, Kerris,” Liza murmured, leaning over the pair of them and cradling her brother’s face. “I don’t have the strength right now. I will finish healing you; I promise.”

  Hawk rolled his shoulder back, resisting the urge to shove her off, but she collapsed, unconscious, her head dropping into his lap. He didn’t have the heart to reject her then.

  “Sky, can you hear me?” Hawk said, testing the Virp. He hadn’t heard from Sky since yesterday, and was starting to think he’d imagined it. “Sky, if you can hear me, we’re all hurt. All of us. Sky.”

  What am I seeing? I don’t know what I’m seeing! Kerris whimpered, a verbal cry punctuating the question.

  “If your eyes hurt as much as mine, you’re seeing a blurry, bloody light blob,” Hawk said, peeking one eye open, then closing it again.

  These spirit eyes, Kerris croaked, his body writhing. What is all this noise?

  “Oh,” Hawk laughed, pressing his forehead to Kerris’, hoping to catch a glimpse. Unfortunately, their telepathic connection didn’t work that way. “Well, let’s see. If you see something blue and misty lying across your lap, that’s your sister. And, um, that purple river around the building is an energy conduit that powers the diggers. Nothing’s on though, so I don’t guess you’re seeing much purple. I don’t know what I look like, but I think I have wings like you and Liza.”

  He mentally thought about moving his wings around Kerris, and instantly felt the warmth on his skin.

  They’re shielding me. I see it. I feel it, Kerris shuddered, relaxing. A vibration that Hawk hadn’t realized he’d felt let up, and a sense of peace came to the moment.

  “Kerris?” Liza asked, lifting her head, her red hair askew. She laid her head on Hawk’s lap again, sighing softly. “You’re shielding him.”

  She’d lived with her brother’s tension inside of her for her whole life. Protecting him should have been as natural to her as protecting herself.

  “Why did you do this to us?” Hawk begged, nuzzling against Kerris.

  “It’s better there. Everyone we love is there on that side, and we’re trapped here,” Liza replied, her tears falling onto Hawk’s lap. “You won’t get through to Sky. The droids won’t let a signal past.”

  “Then you have to get through,” Hawk said.

  “Me?”

  “You’ve done it before,” he said, putting a hand on her head. “You were in Saskia’s body. Go to Oriana. Find a way to bring help.”

  “How are they going to get past the droids?” she sniffled.

  “You’re going to let them in,” Hawk said, letting the accusation stand. The guilt on Liza’s face told him that she knew a way. Or she thought she did.

  The bugs weren’t the only creatures attracted to Oriana’s open bay doors. Even with the electrics up and running, the ship needed airing out. A bird flew into the bay, perching on the middeck railing, then taking off again. Tray lay on the floor, wishing Hawk were here to see a bird in their cargo bay.

  “Oriana?” Madricka asked, stirring her paint, then biting her lip. She’d painted his arms with fancy calligraphy and between the symbols began spelling out the name of the ship. Tray figured he’d go along with the cultural ritual, and Sky had told him the paint would repel insects.

  “It’s the Lanvarian spirit of the New Dawn. It’s part of an ancient pantheon,” Tray explained.

  “Ah, you’re mystics,” Madricka said. “The Chanti have a sunrise god.”

  “We named the ship for the idea, not for belief,” Tray frowned. “No one has believed in the spirit pantheon for generations. Well, not no one. And the more people like Liza I meet, the more I’m inclined to believe… something.”

  “That is a confusion I understand well,” Madricka smiled, languidly drawing her brush over Tray’s elbow. Of the Nelka, she wore the least paint and the most clothes. “Look at these hands. You do most of your work on computers, don’t you?”

  “Before we came here, yes,” Tray confessed. “Hard labor is pretty new to me.”

  “I wish I could stay with the Nelka and have such a choice,” she said distantly. “But we are a labor force. Until we become a tribe in our own right, hard labor is what we do.”

  “You’re not a tribe?” Tray asked.

  Madricka shrugged and shook her head. “We are a blend of tribes. Many of us had siblings among the Ennox, the Dioda, and Gavameti. Liza killed them. We have family among the Lansing, the Nunaq, the Chanti. We are here to protect them. We will let you retrieve your friend first, but our mission is to find a way to keep those two contained.”

  Tray bit his tongue. He and Madricka had come here in frustration, both having been told that they would not be going into the city. Tray told himself he was happy to be left out of this fight, but he felt like he owed Hawk a rescue. Instead, he’d be sitting here, stressing over comms that were only partially working, babysitting Amanda, who the Nelka had been kind enough to tranquilize. He figured the Nelka were going to try and kill Liza, and given how she’d violated him, Saskia, and Hawk, Tray wasn’t sure he was against the idea.

  “How do you know it was her?” Tray asked. “I’m sure tribes enter conflicts all the time. How do you know when it’s Liza?”

  “You find a patch of barren land where a tribe is meant to be. A desert in the midst of a jungle, where nothing grows and nothing can,” Madricka said. “There are plenty that travel beyond our range and we never hear from, but the destroyer leaves them in dust.”

  A breeze gusted through the bay and the bird swooped in a circle, perching on the makeshift shower by the door.

  “They’re playing with the weather,” Madricka said, glancing outside where the Nelka wagon was parked. They’d brought only one, and had four people. That was all their tribe would risk to save Hawk. The wagon looked as unsophisticated as it sounded. It was a noisy rotorcraft, with only a thin, translucent shell protecting the passengers from the massive, spinning blades. It could manage vertical takeoff and landing easily in the jungle, and the cannon the Nelka brought was under-mounted.
Kraven said there were multiple thrusters to keep the vessel steady when the cannon fired. The vessel itself had wide, all-terrain wheels and a boxy shape so that it could store large cargo, or carry a dozen people and their weapons.

  “Earthquakes, rainstorms, heat waves, and an army of flying drones and droids,” Tray said. “And what do we have?”

  “We have her,” Madricka said, pointing to Sky, her tone chilling Tray to the core. “She’s Panoptica. This is the closest we’ve ever been to evening the odds against endemic-kind.”

  Sky squealed with child-like glee as she dashed through the rain, covering the short distance from the wagon to the ship. Madricka watched with reverence, and Tray worried the woman had put too much faith in Sky.

  “Looking good, Skipper,” Sky commented, shaking the water from her hair. “Clear out this area. We’re bringing the wagon onto Oriana.”

  “I thought we were taking the ‘sled and the wagon,” Tray said, leaning back on his hands. “The droids already pushed Oriana off that cliff once.”

  “And taking smaller vessels will make us more vulnerable,” Sky pointed out. “Madricka, want to help me with the grav-drive? That’s all we have to fly with right now.”

  “You’re flying with gravity sources?” Madricka smiled, abandoning her bowl of paint, eagerly following Sky up the stairs. Tray sighed, feeling a bad plan becoming worse. He looked down at the blue paint on his arms.

  “Oriana,” he whispered. He didn’t have much hope for tomorrow, but seeing the word painted on his arm somehow made a difference.

  Liza rubbed her hands as she left the quarry. It had been so warm lying next to Hawk, feeling peace in her heart and her body for the first time since she’d seen her mother murdered. The acidic twitter in her gut had been there ever since, but Hawk could change all of that for them.