by Caryn Lix
“There’s more going on than you realize. If you’ll just calm down and trust me . . .”
“No.” I repeated myself, staring deep into Dad’s eyes. “You trust me, Dad. Come with me. Talk to my friends. Give us a chance.”
“It’s against—”
I groaned. “If you say the word ‘regulations,’ I swear to God, I will start throwing things.” It unsettled me how much I sounded like Mia. It unsettled me more that I didn’t mind.
Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “We live by regulations.”
“Mom lived by regulations. She was willing to kill me because of regulations. And she died because of them.” I tried to jerk my thumb over my shoulder, forgetting again that I was cuffed, and almost wrenched my arm out of its socket. “All those people on Obsidian are dying because of regulations. Was that part of the plan?”
Dad’s silence spoke volumes, and the floor seemed to give way beneath me. I staggered to a chair and sank into it, still staring at Dad the whole time. “My God. It was the plan.”
“We needed a quiet way to eliminate Obsidian without inflaming their contacts on Earth. The underworld is an unfortunate reality, and we have to deal with it. The inhabitants of Obsidian, though . . . they’re criminals, Kenzie, every single one of them. Criminals who’d started to think they were in control of us instead of the other way around. And not just pickpockets and scumbags. Mobsters. Assassins. They live outside the reach of the law. Do you know how many people they kill every year? The solar system is safer without them.”
“I was on that station!” I shouted, the words exploding with such rage they almost took on physical force. It wasn’t enough that my own mother was willing to kill me. My dad, too?
He staggered a step, eyes flashing with rare anger. “And you’re here now, aren’t you? You and your hooligan friends. Why do you think I sent the hunters after you? It was to get you off Obsidian before the aliens arrived! Legion had strict orders not to harm you in any way, you or any of your friends.” He smiled faintly. “It’s not my fault you turned out to be rather skilled at evading them.”
“Don’t you dare try to make this a joke.” I glared at him. “What about the kids on the station, huh? The ones born there, who didn’t do anything at all. Is it okay to kill them, too?”
A glimmer of something human passed over his expression again. Hope surged inside me. Maybe I could reach him after all. But his next words could have come from the Omnistellar training manual. “If there had been a way to help them, we would have. But it’s too late. They’ve grown up in that place, surrounded by criminals, and . . . well, every war has some casualties, sweetheart.” He spoke that last part in barely a whisper, not daring to meet my eyes.
I reeled. “Is that what you believe? Or what Omnistellar told you?”
“There’s no difference. You knew that once.”
He’d dug in to the Omnistellar line. I changed tactics. “Since when do you have the authority to order teams of hunters, anyway?”
Dad shrugged. “As the only ranking individual who’d had contact with the fugitives—which includes you now, by the way—who else would they put in charge of this mission?”
I felt like I was going to be sick. “You have no idea what you’ve unleashed.”
“Of course we do. The aliens cleared out Obsidian, or most of it, anyway. We’re going to flood the station with powerful gas. Hopefully we can reclaim Obsidian, but if not, we’ll destroy the place. There will be no one to blame once news of the alien attack leaks. You don’t have to worry. We’re perfectly safe. Omnistellar won’t let those things near Earth, near any human settlement. After that, we take their ship, just like you did.” He sighed and turned his back to me, his shoulders taut beneath his uniform. “Look, I get how this sounds. But that’s why you were a junior guard. You’re not old enough to understand the complexities of how corporations work, of the sacrifices we sometimes need to make for the greater good. I need you to trust me here. That’s all I’m asking.”
I shook my head, betrayal warring with the need to speak, to reach him. “Trust you? This is the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard. You are connected to Obsidian. Those things rip through the hulls of spaceships. Nothing is going to stop them.”
“We learned from what Matt told us, Kenzie. This ship was originally designed for high-security covert operations. The entire hull is outfitted with triple-reinforced steel and electric shields. Nothing gets through here without a blowtorch. It’s—”
The ship heaved violently, and the chair lurched beneath me, throwing me to the floor. My bound elbows hit the carpet, skidding and shredding skin on the industrial fibers until I smashed into the side of the table. The world spun, and the room plunged into darkness.
THIRTY-SIX
“DAD!” I SHOUTED. “DAD, ARE you there?”
No response. I fumbled in the dark, dragging myself along the floor, groping with my bound hands. The emergency lights flickered to life. I scrambled to where my father lay slumped on the floor and struggled with his weight, heaving him onto his side. I found his pulse, fast and uneven. Blood smeared the side of his head.
“Come on, Dad,” I muttered, shaking his uniform jacket. Sure enough, I found the chip that unlocked my cuffs in his breast pocket. Awkwardly, I angled my hands to scan it over the cuffs, and they dropped away. I kicked them for good measure and pocketed the chip. I never wanted to wear any kind of restraints again. Was this what had made Cage so desperate to escape Sanctuary? The prisoners spent their lives chipped and monitored. I’d long since stopped being angry with them for taking me hostage, but now I understood their motivations on a deeper level.
I had to learn what was happening on the ship. On the off chance they’d left Jasper his communicator, I triggered my own with a thought.
A wave of agonizing pain overwhelmed me. I screamed, pitching to the floor and clawing at my head as if I could scrape the shards of torment from behind my eyes.
The pain faded, leaving me gasping at my comm device in astonishment. I stroked my finger over it. What had just happened? I’d had my comm device since I was fifteen. I’d never gotten this kind of feedback before.
Did I dare retry? I hesitated. My heart clamored at the thought of more pain, but on the other hand, the comm unit was my only hope of contacting the others. Staring at my distorted reflection in its surface, I ground my teeth and triggered it again.
The agony was even worse this time. I tasted blood as I bit through my own lip. I signaled the comm device to deactivate, but the pain distracted me, shoving my effort aside and doubling me over in torment. I used the pain to narrow my thoughts, deactivating the damn thing on the third attempt.
If that first attack was a warning, this was the real thing. I yanked the comm out of its slot, leaving a metal hollow in my arm, and gaped at it in disbelief, this thin metal circle that was so much a part of my life. Having it turn against me felt like almost as much of a betrayal as my parents siding with the company.
Part of me wanted to throw it away, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. Still, I sure as hell didn’t want it connected to my body, so I tucked it into my pocket.
Only one person other than me had touched that device.
Liam.
It had to be him. He’d done this. But how? And why?
It didn’t matter. If I ever saw Liam again, we’d be having a very serious conversation, one that just might end with me using my newfound abilities to open a hole inside him.
Nanakorobi yaoki . . . fall down seven times, get up eight. Except I’d lost count. I was probably on nineteen or twenty by now. What wisdom would Robo Mecha Dream Girl 5 contain about that?
Dad was alive, but I couldn’t wake him, and I didn’t know how badly he was injured. I hesitated. Dad’s omnicard allowed me to access almost anything on the ship. Only a few very sensitive systems actually required biometric scans, which were too complicated for a secure area like a spaceship. The smartest thing for me, for my friends, wa
s to focus on escape.
I looked at Dad lying on the floor, fresh blood oozing from where he’d hit his head, but otherwise so peaceful, like he was napping on our couch at home. And I remembered going to my first Knicks game when I was nine years old, and eating popcorn for supper when Mom left town, and the absolute devastation when he’d told me he and Mom were splitting up.
And naturally I remembered Mom, her eyes sightless and staring, those white alien cataracts like a film trapping her soul.
My friends needed me.
Dad needed me more.
I hesitated, hovering over him. My powers were changing. Growing. Maybe I’d adopted Imani’s or Reed’s healing abilities. Even as I thought it, though, I remembered my inability to turn invisible in the corridor. Still, it was worth a try. I pressed my hands against Dad’s wounds and willed every ounce of healing energy I could summon into his body.
Nothing. At least, no change I could see. And I didn’t have time to mess around any longer. Maybe my friends were out of range, or maybe if I tried a bit harder, a bit longer, I’d find a connection to that healing ability. But I didn’t know how long Dad had, and I couldn’t afford to wait.
Grinding my teeth, I reached for the comm device embedded in the wall. Dad had his own wrist comm, of course, but they were attuned to individual brain waves and DNA; his would be of no use to me. I swiped his card to activate the comms and said, “Medical. Come in, please.”
No answer, not even a faint buzz to indicate a connection.
I frowned. Medical should never be deserted, not ever. The light on the touchscreen was green, so I knew the problem wasn’t on my end. “Medical?” I repeated. “This is an emergency. Come in, please.”
Nobody answered. I closed my eyes, braced myself, and said, “Security. Come in, please.”
Nothing.
Okay, now I was worried. This was Omnistellar we were talking about, the most paranoid corporation in the entire solar system. There was no way, none, they didn’t have an alert security force with their comms active.
Unless security was too busy responding to another threat to deal with random calls?
I threw caution to the wind. “This is Kenzie Cord, Omnistellar security clearance 3524-89A,” I said, although I was sure they’d have blanked my code. Maybe it would catch someone’s attention. “If anyone can hear me, please respond. I have an emergency situation.”
No answer. I slammed my fist into the wall in frustration. “This is Kenzie Cord. I’m a wanted criminal and I’m holding your commanding officer at gunpoint. If someone doesn’t answer me this second, I’ll pull the trigger.”
Silence.
I sank to my knees, monitoring my father’s chest as it rose and fell. Either comms had failed throughout the ship, an unheard-of situation for Omnistellar, or . . .
Or there was no one to answer them.
I sat another minute with my legs curled beneath me, staring at Dad, running through options in my head and rejecting them. I had no idea where anyone was, if anyone was left, no idea if I was alone or if aliens had overrun the ship or if my friends were alive.
The rush from the pills I’d taken earlier had worn off. I wished for another dose. One more, ten more, I didn’t care at this point. I needed something to get me through this situation. Dad’s blood coated my hands. They’d been wet with Mom’s once before, with Rita’s before that. I’d soaked my hands in Matt’s blood, in Tyler’s, in Mia’s and Cage’s.
It seemed like ever since the aliens had shown up, the people I was closest to kept winding up dead. That didn’t bode well for my friends.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, but eventually I realized I had to do something. I went through Dad’s pockets again, hoping for a weapon. No such luck. Either he’d been suspicious enough to disarm himself before coming to visit, or someone had insisted. In spite of myself, I hoped it was the latter.
I considered pulling him under the table to hide him, but I wasn’t sure how badly he was injured, or if I’d hurt him worse by moving him. I reached for the lights but stopped myself. The aliens didn’t rely on sight. We did. If a medical or security team happened along, I wanted him found; if it was something else, darkness wouldn’t shield him.
I did lock the door behind me, though, scanning Dad’s omnicard to do so.
I found myself in a familiar Omnistellar corridor. Doors lined the walls, leading, I guessed, to more conference rooms and offices. At least that would be the case if this ship functioned anything like Omnistellar’s usual design. I went in the opposite direction and rounded a corner. Only two doors graced this corridor, one on either side: ENGINEERING and COMMAND LEVEL 1.
Steadying myself, I scanned Dad’s omnicard and entered the command center.
Half of me expected to find myself facing a horde of startled Omnistellar pilots and ship’s crew in a split-second face-off before they drew their weapons. The other half expected to find nothing at all, more empty stillness—just like Obsidian.
I did not expect to find a slaughter.
The smell hit me first, copper and decay and something hard and astringent. At first, I didn’t even know what I was looking at. My eyes took in the sight, but my brain struggled to catch up, to process the pools of drying blood, the sightless stares of a dozen Omnistellar crew members draped around the room. Some lay where they’d fallen on the floor. Some slumped in chairs. Lots of them had run for the exit and had died where they fell.
I took a hesitant step forward, then another. I followed the fingers of an arm to its shoulder. It had been torn right off the body that owned it.
In the same instant my brain finally processed the reality of the situation. Bile surged in my throat and I spun, spewing vomit over the floor, further desecrating this killing ground. As I straightened and wiped my mouth on my sleeve, I found myself eye to eye with a woman. She’d died against the wall, propped against a console, her mouth stretched wide in a mask of terror. Her face was inches from my own. We stared at each other, and I realized I was waiting for her to blink first.
I staggered back, almost slipping in a puddle of blood but managing to catch myself against the wall as I fumbled for the door. My feet teetered on the edge of a massive, gaping hole. I threw myself aside, landing in something wet and crying out in spite of my resolve to stay silent. The hole was at least six feet wide with jagged, sharp edges. I couldn’t see below and didn’t want to. Instead, I struggled to my feet, slipping once more in blood, finding the wall and spinning. With Dad’s omnicard clenched hard enough to leave grooves in my hands, I slashed it past the card reader again and again, screwing up the reading so badly I had to stop, close my eyes to calm down, and give it one steady pass.
The door beeped and opened, and I ran into the hall. As it slid shut behind me, I drew great gasps of air, cleansing the stench of the command center from my lungs. My hands shook around the omnicard, and it clattered to the floor. I dropped beside it, still sucking in air until my lungs burned with the effort. One of my cousins had asthma, and I’d seen her gasping for breath before she was treated. This felt the same as she’d looked, like someone was closing a hand over my throat, leaving me less than a straw’s width to breathe through. I hunched my shoulder forward, gasping, choking.
I’d seen death before but, for the most part, it was . . . clean. The kids who’d died on Sanctuary mostly died in the clear goop the aliens used to preserve them, no signs of visible injury. I’d seen the result of my own gunshot at Matt, and I’d seen what the aliens did to Tyler, but that was nothing, nothing, to an entire room of eviscerated people. And I’d never been great with even small amounts of blood. The carnage behind me . . . I was amazed I was still conscious.
I sat against the wall, staring at the closed door to the command center. I should go back in there. Search the bodies for weapons. Access the computer system and try to learn what had happened. Find the holding cells. Something.
But I couldn’t move. I couldn’t return. I simply couldn’t. After a
ll, it wasn’t like their weapons did the ship’s crew much good. If I survived, it probably wouldn’t be because I’d shot my way out of the situation. And I’d hesitated on Obsidian. I wasn’t the same with guns, not anymore. Maybe not ever again.
I swallowed hard, glancing down the hall to where Dad rested behind a door: my last link to a normal life, to my family. The last person from Omnistellar I’d thought I trusted. If I left him alone here and the aliens returned . . .
But if I stayed with him, I had no hope of protecting him. At least unconscious, he’d be silent. His only hope was if I found him help.
Where else could I go? I glanced behind me, at the big door indicating the entrance to engineering. I could access the computer system there. But what if I found another massacre?
I dropped my head to my hands and forced myself not to hyperventilate. Those people were dead. I couldn’t help them. But my father and, I hoped, my friends were still alive. If the aliens had killed those people, and I had to assume that was the case, even though I’d never seen them attack like that before, then they were cleaning house, and I didn’t have much time. And on the off chance that it wasn’t the aliens, I had even less. It put a time limit on the driving need to figure out what was going on and who was responsible.
Either way, I couldn’t keep sitting here.
I willed my legs to move. At last I managed to stagger to my knees. That seemed to give me some strength. Gripping the wall, I pulled myself to my feet and then, much more cautiously than before, I opened the door to engineering.
THIRTY-SEVEN
I PLASTERED MYSELF AGAINST THE wall and held as still and silent as possible. The room lacked windows. A solid wall ran the length of the corridor, so I couldn’t even peek inside. But when nothing screamed or lunged or attacked, I risked peering around the corner.
Engineering, thank God, was not the slaughterhouse I’d seen in the command center. Instead it was totally empty.