by Caryn Lix
A moment later, the door flew open, almost knocking him over. “Yeah?” demanded a voice. I couldn’t see its owner. “What do you . . . ?”
There was a long, tense silence, followed by an ear-shattering shriek. A girl, a couple of years older and a few inches shorter than me, flew through the door, launching herself into Jasper’s arms. He staggered, managing to catch her before they went flying. “Easy, Nina!” he laughed, hugging her in return.
“Oh my God, Jasper, is it really you?” She stepped back and stared at him. She had Jasper’s high cheekbones and dark hair, although hers was braided and coiled around her head, and the same arched, almost elven ears. She was dressed for kitchen work in a clean white apron, jeans, and a T-shirt. The rest of us watched awkwardly as tears flooded her cheeks. “The news said Sanctuary blew up. It said no survivors, you jackass! We had a funeral for you!”
“Nina, I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything, I promise.”
She withdrew, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “You stink.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Jasper, Mom and Dad are going to freak out. Not to mention Lita and Gabriel and . . . oh my God, Kiikaa. He cried for days.”
Jasper winced. “None of this is as helpful as you might think.”
“I’m not trying to help you! I’m trying to tell you how . . .” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the rest of us. “Jasper,” she said, a dangerous note entering her voice, “who are these people?”
“It’s a long story, but they’re friends of mine. Can we find them a room, some clothes, some food?”
“Absolutely not. You’re coming straight to Mom and Dad. You don’t think they deserve to know you’re alive?”
“I said them, not me. I’ll do the family reunion thing.” He sounded annoyed, but a pleased glimmer in his eyes belied his exterior.
Nina shook her head furiously, her beaded earrings jangling. “All right,” she said. “But it’s better if the kitchen staff don’t see them. I’m guessing none of you are supposed to be here.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“Meet me at the family entrance. I’ll be there as soon as I figure out which suites aren’t being used tonight.” She gave him another fierce hug, punched him in the arm for good measure, and slammed the door behind her.
“Um,” said Jasper. “That was my big sister.”
“We guessed,” replied Cage dryly.
“Apparently, I have some explaining to do, and I suppose some of you do too. If you want to call your families from the room, you can. Get Rune to scramble the number. Just in case anyone is, you know, suspicious.” I glanced around curiously. I didn’t know anyone’s family situation but Rune’s and Cage’s, but no one’s face gave anything away.
Jasper led us down another narrow passageway, stopping outside a plain door. “This leads to my family’s rooms, but it connects to the hotel, too. Come on in.”
We found ourselves in a surprisingly low-key entrance. Framed family portraits lined sleek metal walls, dozens of shoes and jackets strewn about. Jasper’s sister emerged from a door I hadn’t noticed on the other side of the entry. “Okay, come on,” she said. She led us up a dark, shadowy staircase, probably either a staff passage or a fire exit. After five flights of stairs, with Reed gasping all the way, she used her thumb to open a door and peered outside before gesturing for us to follow.
The corridor was the picture of elegance, in sharp contrast to the stairwell. Not a speck of Martian dust here. Soft lighting illuminated polished wood floors, which we tracked dirt over with every step. A whirring told me the busy robots would tidy here, too. Framed pictures of Martian landscapes graced the walls. Nina led us to a set of double doors between two pillars, the number 530 etched across them. “You’re in luck,” she said. “Only a few visitors on this floor right now. But don’t stick your heads outside. I’ll have some food sent up. Don’t answer when they knock. I’ll tell them to leave the cart. If you need something, call the front desk and ask for Nina.” She glared at us as she scanned her thumb to open the doors. “Don’t wreck anything. Jasper, you come with me.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said with a mock salute. “I’ll be right back, guys. I hope.”
Nina looked about three seconds from grabbing him by the ear and dragging him off, so we hurried into the room. Unable to help myself, I peered around the corner and watched Nina lead Jasper away. She stood a full foot shorter than him, but Jasper still cringed as she delivered what appeared to be a stinging lecture. I bit my twitching lips. At this moment, I would have given almost anything for that kind of reunion with my parents. Even if Mom were alive, though, and even if Dad weren’t furious with me, that had never been our family dynamic. We were quick-hug-and-pleasant-smile people. It had never bothered me before. I’d always known love lay beneath. Now, though, I realized the truth. For my mom, at least, love of Omnistellar outweighed love of me.
What about Dad?
“Oh my God,” gasped Rune. I turned and staggered.
This wasn’t a room. It was some kind of luxury suite. We were standing in an entranceway leading into a spotless living room, four doors exiting to other areas. We gaped in silence for a moment and then all broke into a run at once. We threw doors open, finding bedrooms with king-sized beds, holovids, and best of all, their own private bathrooms.
“Dibs on the shower,” announced Mia, materializing in the middle of us and bolting for the biggest room. Without a word, Alexei followed, slamming the door in our faces.
“Ow,” muttered Reed, who’d been peering into the room behind Mia. He rubbed his nose.
“All right then,” said Imani dryly. “Rune? Be my roommate? I’ll let you have first shower.”
Rune took her extended hand. “That’s not a deal I can refuse.” She glanced over her shoulder at Cage. “Um. We should maybe talk or something. You know, later.”
“Later,” he agreed with a smile.
Reed sighed heavily. “I guess that means Mia’s not going to give me that first aid kit she found in the warehouse, huh?”
Cage gestured at the closed door. “Feel free to storm in there and demand it.”
“Yeah, no. I think I’ll go spend about three hours soaking in a tub.” Reed’s eyes twinkled. “Kenzie? What do you say? Roomies?”
Before I could answer, Cage gave him a shove in the direction of one of the rooms. “Get moving, smartass.” He glanced at me, his expression awkward as Reed chuckled and limped toward the door. “Um. That does leave the two of us, but I’m not saying we have to share. I can easily sleep on the couch.”
“Great,” I said brightly. “That means I get the shower to myself, right?”
He leveled a finger in my direction. “That you have to share.” Red suffused his cheeks as he realized what he’d said. “Wait. Not . . .”
I laughed in spite of myself, but quickly sobered as the awkwardness of being alone together settled in. We stared at each other. It wasn’t the first time we’d been alone since Sanctuary, but someone always lurked around the corner. Now, as we stood in a closed space with little threat of interruption, tension wrapped us in its grip. “You and Rune aren’t the only ones who need to talk,” I said quietly.
He closed his eyes as if in pain but nodded. “I know.”
“I think . . .” I shifted awkwardly. I’d been dodging the subject for weeks now. How did you ask someone if they were a murderer? Whether all the fears you’d held about them might be true? Especially when it was someone you cared about? “I think I need a shower,” I blurted out.
Great. Fan-bloody-tastic, as Mia liked to say. Way to step up and face the music. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to continue, “But we can share the room. We’ve been sleeping beside each other for weeks anyway. And we do need to talk. Just . . . can we do it later?”
Cage passed his hand over his face and nodded. “Yeah. I think we’ll both think more clearly once we’ve cleaned up and eaten. Why don’t you grab the shower first?”
TEN
NOTHING HAD EVER FELT AS good as that shower. I stood under the hot water, washing three weeks’ worth of filth, blood, and dirt down the drain. The hotel provided abundant shampoos and soaps. I used an entire bar scrubbing myself raw. Part of me screamed at the delay. We should be destroying the alien ship right now, or at least making a plan. But we couldn’t go much longer without rest. We had a deadline: less than twenty-four hours until Omnistellar arrived. I didn’t think the aliens would show up before that. At least, I hoped they wouldn’t. If we took a few hours to bathe and eat and recharge, well, was that so terrible? I’d never been someone to put my personal well-being above my duty, but I’d never faced challenges like this, either. Even in the brightly lit bathroom, I had trouble closing the shower. I couldn’t stand not seeing the entire room. What if something lurked in the corner, waiting for me, stalking? I knew I was safe. I knew that. And yet I left the shower door open.
At last I emerged and let the sonic beams brush me dry, my hair settling into a curly mess. I couldn’t face the thought of putting on my filthy guard’s uniform, maybe wouldn’t have wanted to even if it had been clean. The Omnistellar logo was no longer a mark of pride but a symbol of my own gullibility. I’d accepted everything the corporation said without question. I’d toed the company line. My mom had drilled that into me. She’d been a true believer herself, and she’d molded me in her own image. In another thirty years, would I have sacrificed my own child for company regulations? I bunched up the uniform, shoved it into the garbage chute, washed my hands again, and wrapped myself in a thick robe.
I took a moment to stare at myself in the mirror. I’d turned my back on Omnistellar. Seventeen years of defining myself as a guard out the window. What did that make me now? Outlaw? Anomaly? Reject? All of that, yes. But maybe more: friend, fighter, planner. I brushed my hair behind my ears and nodded at myself.
My experience with the aliens had left marks on me. Physical marks, yes, but something deeper. I used to walk through the darkest silence without fear. Now, every muscle tensed, every nerve in my body constantly ready to flee. I’d faced a formidable enemy, one no amount of training or expertise or maybe even anomalous powers could defeat. If it returned . . . Blood drained from my face, and I clutched the counter to keep from falling. Before Sanctuary, I would never have believed there existed a threat Omnistellar couldn’t conquer. The rest of the corporation might believe that too. Dad seemed to. How did you argue against blind allegiance? No amount of facts would convince them of Omnistellar’s fallibility, nothing but the sight of bodies torn to shreds.
I wouldn’t let it come to that. I forced my face into a steely resolve. Robo Mecha Dream Girl would never allow a corporation to call aliens to our solar system. I’d always dreamed of being Yumiko anyway. Until I found my own identity in this new world, maybe I could rely on hers.
In the bedroom, I found a bag on the bed with my name written on it. I opened it to find two T-shirts, underwear, a pair of jeans, shoes, socks, even a toothbrush. I didn’t know where it came from, but I dressed gratefully, combed my hair, brushed my teeth, and at last noticed what I’d somehow missed before: the smell of food wafting in from the other room.
I burst through the door to find Rune, Imani, and Reed attacking an assortment of dishes spread across the coffee table. They were all clean and dressed in new clothes. I lunged between Imani and Rune on the sofa, grabbed the nearest item, which happened to be a sticky pork bun, and shoved it into my mouth.
We hadn’t starved on the ship, but we’d survived on pressed bars of protein, emergency rations pilfered from Sanctuary. “Oh my God,” I said, collapsing over the back of the sofa. “Is this as good as it tastes, or am I just desperate for real food?”
“Both,” said Rune. “Get over here and try the clam chowder. And there’s an amazing fruit salad. Nina didn’t know what we liked, so she sent a bit of everything.”
“And everything means everything.” Reed grabbed a piece of cake and shoved it into his mouth with his bare hands. Rune uttered a cry of protest, and he grinned at her around smears of icing. “What? Who knows when we’ll eat like this again? I’m taking advantage of it while I can.”
“Take advantage of the forks.” Imani tossed one at him. He snatched it out of midair and made a show of scraping the icing off his face, licking the fork clean between each swipe.
I grabbed a plate and loaded it with anything in reach—except the stuffed mushrooms, obviously. Who ate fungus?—before Reed could make me lose my appetite. Nina might not be thrilled that Jasper had dragged us home like stray dogs, but she’d come through with an abundance of food. I no longer had any doubts about Jasper’s family. They could turn us in to Mars Mining for all I cared at this moment. “Where’s everyone else?” I mumbled.
“Cage said you took too long and went to use our shower,” Rune answered. I winced inwardly. Had I really spent twice as long in the shower as the other girls? But no one seemed too put out; Rune mentioned it in a casual tone and immediately moved on. “We haven’t seen Mia or Alexei in a while. And I assume Jasper’s still with his family.” She glanced at Imani and Reed. “What about you two? Do you have family you want to contact? I can rig the comms so you can’t be traced.”
Reed fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “I guess I should. My moms are probably worried. But . . . I’m not sure what to say to them, you know? This whole thing isn’t over. We could still be killed. And soon. I don’t know if I want to give them a bunch of hope and then . . .”
Imani nodded. “I see what you’re saying. But I still want to call home. I should do it now, before I chicken out.”
“Let’s go.” Rune swallowed a mouthful of chowder, wiped her hand across the back of her mouth, and led Imani into the other room, leaving me with Reed.
“How’s your ankle?” I asked.
His face twisted in annoyance. “Sore. I’d really like to get my hands on that first aid kit.”
We glanced at Mia and Alexei’s closed door. After a moment I got to my feet, crossed to it, and knocked loudly. “There’s food!” I called.
“Go away!” Mia bellowed.
I returned to Reed, shrugging. “I tried.”
“My hero,” he replied dryly, shaking his head and biting into an apple. “It’s so ridiculous, you know? Here my power is healing, and I’m sidelined by a sprained ankle. I have a feeling I’m going to have to stay here while the rest of you take on the ship. I’ll only slow you down.”
“You’re absolutely sure your power only works on other people?”
“Yeah.” He made a face. “Learned that one the hard way. When my power first manifested, I cured my sister’s broken arm. I assumed I was invincible. Then I fell off the roof of our house and cracked my skull. Wound up in the hospital for three weeks. That’s how I learned I can’t heal myself, and that my power only applies to injuries, not illnesses.” His expression became distant, sad. Something had happened to cause that look. I was about to ask when the door burst open to admit Jasper, looking somewhat disgruntled, but clean and in new clothes. His seemed to fit better than ours, leading me to assume he’d raided his own closet.
“Thank God for Nina,” he muttered when he saw the food, straddling a chair and reaching for plates, shoving things into his mouth without worrying about cutlery. Reed nodded approvingly.
“For your entire family,” I said awkwardly. I barely knew Jasper, but I owed him a lot. “This . . . this is better than anything I could have imagined.”
He shrugged. “Well, once Mom and Dad finished yelling at me, and my grandparents had a go, and my siblings got done, they turned me over to my cousin, who stood outside the shower swearing at me until I was ready to get dressed. So I figure I earned it.”
I hated to ask, but I had to. “They won’t turn us in?�
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Jasper shook his head, seemingly unoffended. “Nah. They might be citizens of Tourism Rouge, but they’re not the biggest fans of the corporations. Tourism Rouge is a pretty laid-back corp. It doesn’t demand undying loyalty the way Mars Mining and Omnistellar do. And besides, my family would never turn their backs on each other.”
A moment later, Rune and Imani returned from their room. Imani’s eyes were suspiciously red, but she kept her head high as she settled on the couch, gnawing on a piece of garlic bread. “So,” she said, “what do we do now?”
“We need to make a plan to destroy that ship,” I replied immediately. As I spoke, Cage emerged from the girls’ room. I glanced at him and he almost took my breath away. I’d damn near forgotten what he looked like clean and healthy, and I’d never seen him without his prison uniform. In his jeans and T-shirt, his hair tousled, a black hoodie slung carelessly around his shoulders, he looked more confident, stronger, more like someone you’d run into on the streets. He caught my eye and winked, and my cheeks grew warm. Actually warm, like a blushing anime schoolgirl. I wrenched my eyes away to hide my embarrassment. “As I was saying,” I said, “we have to destroy that ship, and it has to be soon. Before Omnistellar gets here, for sure. Sooner if we can manage it.”
Reed glared at Mia and Alexei’s closed door. “We should have everyone here before we discuss this.”
“Still?” Cage rolled his eyes, crossed to their door, and hammered on it. “Mia! Lex! Get out here!”
I couldn’t hear the response, but Cage shouted in reply, “I don’t care! We need you. Let’s go.”
He rejoined us on the couch and snagged a bowl of soup. “What?” he demanded as we stared at him.
“I don’t . . .” I met Rune’s gaze and shook my head. “Never mind.” I still didn’t understand Cage’s relationship with Mia, or Alexei for that matter. But they seemed to more or less follow his orders. Not mine, evidently.
But at the same time . . . I realized that if I’d banged on that door shouting for help, both Mia and Alexei would have materialized in seconds. Alexei was easier to understand. He was soft-spoken, kind, protective, but with a metal core you couldn’t tarnish. Mia, on the other hand . . . on some level I liked her and thought she liked me. But now, I realized I trusted her as well. Despite my initial worries, she’d come back for us at the Mars prison without any second thoughts. Whatever else happened between us, I knew Mia had my back.