Shadows of the Son

by E L Strife

  Embarrassment burned in Atana’s face. “Thank you for covering for us.”

  Bennett’s voice softened. “You needed a break. I’m going to check on the collector progress.”

  “You need rest too,” Azure challenged.

  “The nap was enough.” With a glower, Bennett stalked off. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  Chapter 21

  AZURE WAS TORN amongst conceding to Kios’s request, refusing it, and flat out killing Bennett. Beside him, Atana talked about Agutra, but he honestly couldn’t sort what she said through his disappointment. Teek il tsusa. Kiatna ahtz pelatues ituuvia verso.

  Atana stopped and shook him. When he looked to her, her brows lifted, and she repeated the question. “What’s going on with you?”

  Azure forced his jaw to loosen. He swayed, not wanting to admit weakness around her, but he had to clear his head before returning to work and caved. “I thought Kios looked to me as his father because we’re his kind.”

  A slow nod accompanied her rub of his arm. She didn’t understand how those little gestures set him on fire inside. There was no love in her eyes when she did it in front of others. He wished she was proud to be his mate enough that she didn’t care who saw.

  Shepherd Law was not the law of life.

  “Kios doesn’t understand how family structures work,” she said, glancing around at the passing shepherds. “Neither do I other than a few flashes from before the collectors picked me up and what Rio has explained to me. Kios does think of you as his father. He feels safe with you. He just likes Bennett too, because he had what we didn’t.”

  Azure sighed with discontent and chewed the inside of a cheek to keep from objecting.

  You know exactly what I mean. In her tired eyes was a warning. Don’t deny it because you wish you had it and don’t, or because you think less of Bennett because he did not suffer the same as us. His pain is different but equal.

  A normal life on a planet, he grumbled. Entering the hangars, Azure stole her off between stacked crates of cargo destined for Agutra, wanting a private moment. “It’s hard to let go of that dream.”

  “Azure?” She resisted breaking her course at first but followed.

  “Just one breath, please,” he begged.

  Pushing the loose bangs out of her face, she set her hands on her hips. “What’s up?”

  He slid his arms around her waist and drew her body against his. It felt like everything and everyone was trying to take her away from him. Just don’t want to—never mind.

  “Want to what?” she asked from his shoulder.

  Azure buried his nose in her hair. Catching Bennett’s scent, Azure felt the urge to growl, but ground his teeth instead.

  “You’re acting strange lately, Azure,” she said, pushing back. Her fingers drummed in place on his arms. She scanned the bins around them as if looking for something. “Have you ever been in a sector container when it landed on a planet?”

  His grip loosened. “In Siphon status? No. Anyone inside will die on impact. Siphon is automated and controlled by delegate Suanoa.”

  “How do you know when they are planning a Siphon?”

  “There is a system,” Azure paused, releasing a hot breath as her hands slid down his bare forearms. “First, the water shuts off. Then the lights go out. The atmosphere is collected into storage containers in the sector’s dock housing. We clear everyone out as fast as we can before the atmosphere is gone. The Saemas and Healers know about when the fields’ shelf cycle is nearing completion, and they warn us workers.

  “The delegates purge everything, and we scrub the container. Then it goes into Siphon sixth phase: dark matter gravity dampeners kick on, and the sector container is released from dock by slip ships. The treypack thruster units initiate, directing the descent of the container to the planet surface. It always drops drill first.”

  “Oh.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

  Surprised by her sudden affection, Azure wondered if something was wrong. “Are you okay?”

  Atana looked up. “Sorry. I’m working on so many projects simultaneously that sometimes I pull energy from my basic functions to continue.”

  After Bennett’s untimely interruption, Azure had felt like a bundle of knots. Having her sink into him again made the notion he was being rejected melt away.

  “Can I get your help on something?” she asked, quickly walking off through the parked collectors. “I know you have synzer units to program. It will only take a minute.”

  Azure followed her to a row of wall lockers, disheartened by the brevity of their moment. She pulled out a crystalline panel, similar to a collector’s, and handed it to him. It was so dark in color he had to lift it to the light to confirm what it was. Etched in the violet glass were thousands of electrical traces. “Where did you find this? Diachrysm is hard to come by.”

  She winked but offered no details. “It has a few redundancies in the rev-limiter programming. I need the idle at 3,800, and the max permitted 6,580 RPMs, not 5,950. The current settings are too cold. Can you fix it for me?”

  “Yes, but I’ll have to use the synthesized filler we made up for the collector panels.”

  “Good enough. I just don’t have the time to do this myself, and I know I can count on your skills. Message me when it’s done and if you need anything.” Closing her locker, Atana tapped her wristband screen on and started down the aisle between the parked ships.

  He knew they were busy, but he’d hoped for a little more of a goodbye. He called after her in the traditional Xahu’ré way. Alatus iveron, lisano. Together forever, beautiful.

  She looked back but didn’t stop. Alatus iveron, meturlion.

  Her smile didn’t quite lift her cheeks. Azure couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or something else. Atana continued down the deck without another word—a swaying splotch of rusted leather amid gray and blue jumpsuits and black BDUs.

  Azure set the crystalline panel on a workbench and watched her. She scanned every ship and person as she passed. No tool or table was left unturned by her eyes. At the end of the row, she placed her hand on a metal personnel door. The light on the lock blinked from red to green. She slipped inside. When the door shut, the light turned red again.

  He stood, dumbfounded. She’d never called him by that name, not even as teens. Females used it when referring to attractive males they perceived as fearless, usually reserved for only the top-ranked warriors of Vioran armies. The realization made him blush. But her cryptic behavior made him worry. She was working on something alone, hiding things from him, which mates never did.

  Bennett stepped out from a group of chatting doku between the collectors to stare at the door Atana had vanished through. When he turned around and met Azure’s gaze, he looked as befuddled as Azure felt. At least they were equally out of the information loop. Yet Azure’s concern grew. If neither one of them were privy to her plans, there was no way to know she would be protected, safe.

  Even if he despised the man, Azure knew Bennett did what he could for her.

  Studying the gentle radiance Bennett spread on the faces he talked to as he meandered away, Azure felt his leadership status was inferior. His confidence faded. Shepherds and doku alike left Bennett’s conversations with smiles. They didn’t with Azure.

  Bennett was what the kiatna needed.

  Prying his jaw loose, Azure picked up the diachrysm and got to work.

  Chapter 22

  BENNETT SANK back onto his bed, flopping over onto a new pillow. He’d reworked every tactical strategy plan he could think of with the available information. What he needed was reassurance the Linoan collectors could perform to expectation, or he feared he’d be directing every pilot to their deaths.

  The prospect didn’t sit well in his stomach. Or maybe it was just the protein bars he’d resorted to because they took less time out of his day than a regular meal.

  He prayed to the stars Paramor and Rimsan would pull through for him. Every time Ben
nett considered talking to Azure about his back-up plan, an instinct tugged at his spine, pulling him away. He only caught glimpses of Azure working on the collectors amidst the crowds of doku and maintenance shepherds.The man had avoided him at every cost since their argument. Atana spent the evening in the simulator labs and the Technical Integration facility. They’d barely managed one "hey" in passing.

  Command had assigned Bennett a team of tactical experts, only one of which was space qualified. Bennett had never studied how gravitational pull and rotation affected the satellites and the ascent and descent of ships. But to effectively design maneuvers, he’d forced himself to learn.

  He’d ended up making regular, poor-attempts at communication with the doku to get their input. They spoke so many languages it was almost impossible to know who would understand him. The number of times they played ‘telephone’ to translate, Bennett wasn’t sure if he could rely on the answer when he got it. Space Station Hope’s commander filled in the gaps of knowledge he could. But there hadn’t been a battle in Earth’s orbit in well over a century.

  Bennett puffed out his cheeks and closed his eyes, trying to empty his thoughts and listen to the silence of his room. Instead, he found himself sinking into a familiar dream.

  Steel rumbled beneath his feet. Before him, Tanner knelt over Amianna’s limp body, tears streaking his face. A horn blared deep to Bennett’s left, its sound filling the dead-quiet of the lunchroom.

  Fear surged through Bennett with inundating force. He froze with the dream, staring up at the cracked glass and a monstrous shadow looming in the sea beyond.

  “Son, you need to stop them. The universe has shown this to you before. Do you not remember?”

  “Father?” Bennett spun, searching for him.

  “The universe has been trying to warn you,” his father said. “Where were you last night?”

  Bennett slapped a hand to his forehead. “I took a nap with Kios. Didn’t dream. It was wonderful.”

  For three breaths, his father didn’t respond. Bennett stared up at the white fissures creeping across the glass. Drops of water bubbled through, falling slow as if gravity were not of Earth but the moon instead. “Dad?”

  “You can’t rest with the boy anymore.”

  “But you told me to protect Kios. He wants me to be his father, like Azure. I can’t open that door and then slam it in his face,” Bennett defended. “And I’m not going to.”

  “I— He what?” His father groaned, sounding startled and hesitant all at once. “I’ll look into the boy. Just remember this dream. You are running out of time!”

  Bennett squirmed under the urgency of the request. “How do I—”

  “Remember this!”

  The Prospector’s command rattled his brain, shaking him awake. Bennett sprang up from the bed. Heart pounding, he paced his bunk room, replaying the events he could. He was surprised to find more came to him from the earlier dreams as if a broken bridge had been mended.

  In a panic, Bennett slung his hands in front of him. To his relief, they were dark. But nothing could calm the prickling awareness flooding his body.

  Checking his wristband for Atana’s location and finding her in the lunch hall outside, he flung his door open. Bennett hustled—barefoot, in just his gym shorts—out to the darkened tables. She sat near the wall, a tablet lighting up her face. Hearing teams of shepherds chatting in the main hall, Bennett swallowed his urge to yell. Home Station had to forego the usual nightshift reductions to accomplish everything in time for the war. Nakio, I need to talk to you.

  Her eyes lifted to him inside soft shadows of hair. She set her screen down and stood. “Bennett?”

  Bennett stopped before her, scanned the darkened level to ensure they were alone, and then leaned in close. “I think I had a premonition about the destruction of Home Station.”

  She studied him in length until he wondered if he’d warped time on accident.

  Atana grabbed his arm and urged him to the bench with her. “What makes you think this?” she whispered. Her hair had fallen in loose tangles around her shoulders, the corners of her eyes creased in exhaustive concentration.

  “This is the second, maybe third, time I had the dream. My father spoke at the end, telling me to stop it from happening. But I don’t know how or what I’m supposed to be stopping. Or if I’m just going crazy.”

  “Can you tell me what happens in your dream?” She scooted closer, the navy T-shirt she wore sagging from her shoulders.

  Bennett stilled. “Since when do you wear Azure’s clothes?”

  “He wanted me to wear it while I programmed out here in the dark,” she said apathetically. “I don’t know why. Please, get back to this dream.”

  Bennett swiped a hand down his bristly jaw, thinking she was far too amenable when it came to Azure. “Probably a scent thing,” he said, remembering how Azure said he’d found them on Agutra.

  “Likely,” she responded cold and curt. “Dream.”

  “Right,” Bennett ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his nerves. “It’s a little different every time, but the two bottom levels, Eight and Nine, get flooded out. Everyone’s dead except Tanner and me. At the end, a submarine rams into the side of the glass wall and floods out whatever mess hall Tanner and I are in.”

  Atana sighed and pinched the space between her brows. “Are you sure it isn’t a metaphorical situation resulting from your concern for everyone? I’ve pissed Command off enough.”

  Sitting back, Bennett rested an arm on the top of the bench and planted the side of his head in his palm. She’d find out eventually. “Since I met you, Nakio, I haven’t had any dreams other than premonitions, memories, or other literal things. It took me a while to figure it out. I’m still struggling to remember upon waking. But it’s getting better.”

  Atana cocked her head, eyeing him with caution.

  He released a short embarrassed laugh, thinking back to his first dream of her before the mission. “Do you trust me?”

  “Jameson, it should never be a question in your mind. Trust is an essential component of love.”

  Bennett’s heart skittered. He shook the distraction away. “What do we do now?”

  “We need to tell Command, so they can decide what to do with the information. Not mentioning it is a risk we can’t afford to take.” Spinning on the seat, she collected her tablet. “Best suit up. I’ll call a meeting. See you in a minute.”

  “Copy.” Bennett followed her to their residence hall, worry turning him inside out. He had to be calm. The last thing they needed tonight was him blowing up Home Station. Changing into his black BDUs, he tried to calm his growing apprehension over Command’s reaction. He’d never broken protocol for something as extraneous or subjective as dreams before. Stepping into the hall, he checked the buttons of his top, waiting for her.

  “You ready?” She asked from the main corridor, her leather-clad body a glistening silhouette in the dark.

  Bennett swiveled in surprise and hustled her direction. “Ya-yeah, right behind you.”

  Chapter 23

  COMMAND STUMBLED into their conference room for the emergency meeting. Bennett held the door until Atana ushered in Linas and Jorjan

  She leaned toward him as he firmly shut the door. “Found them on the stairs. I almost didn’t see them.”

  Bennett thought it unlikely. Atana saw everything, even in the dark. He eyed the two as they took their seats with the others.

  Gruégon grumbled from the closest seat on the left as he rubbed his face. His normally combed hair was a pile of sooty feathers, his ashen robe on inside out. Most members were similarly disheveled. “What’s the reason for disrupting us at two in the morning?”

  “Since this transformation, or whatever, began, I’ve had reoccurring dreams. I think you need to see this one.” Bennett signaled Atana, trying to act confident despite his growing concerns about their perception of him after the meeting was over.

  “Over the head like a crown,”
Atana directed. She slid the looped receiver harnesses off of her arm and handed one to each of the non-telepathic members of Command. “Switch goes to the base of the skull.”

  Command draped the wire over their heads as instructed.

  Bennett took a seat at the end by the doors and lowered his head. This was the only way to ensure there was no misunderstanding, showing them so they could decide for themselves. Resting his arms on the table, he bound his fists together and closed his eyes. Atana said she would help, but doubts about his capabilities made it hard to pull the images together into something coherent.

  Atana’s light footsteps stopped behind him. Her hands rested atop his shoulders and gently squeezed. You can do this.

  He relaxed beneath the heat of her fingers and slipped into the dark clouds of Ether, this time without a fight.

  Black and orange clouds swallowed him like usual, thrusting him out into space. A golden flake consumed in fire drifted by. He caught it in his hand. Bennett knew his channel to the universe was through fire. “I need to see the vision again.”

  The single flake turned into ten. Then those ten into a hundred more. They spread before Bennett in a trail. He followed it to a blistering portal in the night and stepped inside.

  A tangerine nebula glittered around him, clusters of stars and galaxies spiraling in all different directions. Behind him, in a circle, the silvery orbs of the receivers floated between the colorful auras of the telepathic Command members.

  In the coruscating clouds beyond the screen sat the brightest point in Bennett’s Ether. An effulgent orange band connected the image before Bennett to the distant light, like a cosmic projector. Bennett watched his dream ripple to life before him. He drifted to it and focused on the vision.

  “That’s it,” Atana encouraged in his right ear.