Heritage Lost

by S M Wright

  As Katya and Mina's lift descended, more details came into focus. Three males, two females, though the one with her shaved head was only distinguishable as such by her slighter frame. A captain, commander, a lieutenant, and two ensigns. Katya's pulse thrummed. They would overpower them in a second if given the chance.

  Mina faltered, but Katya prodded her forward. From the tremors passing down the girl's back, her mind was considering similar possibilities.

  The one bearing the rank of captain was the same Oneiroi Katya had seen on Dandis VII; she was certain of it, despite how homogeneous the species appeared on the surface. The lift halted on the designated level, and she pressed her hand against Mina's back, guiding her toward their intended ride. Words would have only been coated by the sirens and weapons discharge. Despite it, Sotiris shrieked, his hands covering his ears.

  Mina obeyed her and took off ahead. Katya trailed behind, minding the action below them. The Oneiroi were a formidable team, working in perfect harmony to cut down their enemies.

  The Oneiroi almost had the Jar'rask contingent contained. Katya paled when one of them—the commander, her hair in a braided bun—shouted and pointed at her. The lieutenant whirled, firing a blast a foot in front of Mina. The girl screamed and dropped, her remaining arm shielding her head. Katya joined her to present less of a target. Sotiris became more hysterical, wailing, gasping for air.

  "Mina," Katya called. "Get her going."

  Below, a deep male voice belonging to the captain roared at them. "Give him back!"

  Mina looked over her shoulder at Katya, tears spilling over her eyelashes. "I can't crawl with him."

  "Leave him," Katya said. "I'll get him."

  "He doesn't belong to you," the captain bellowed in perfect Magistrate, only a trace of an accent. "He belongs with his family. You may have had good intentions when you picked him up—I don't know what they were, but I've come to suspect they were good. But you've done enough. I'll take my nephew where he can get the help he needs."

  Mina crawled past Sotiris to their mark. The boy laid flat, his hands balled into fists while face scrunched with tears. Her own throat tightened. The boy deserved to be reunited with his family. Tears prickled in her eyes as she watched Sotiris twist on the catwalk unable to crawl or even rock onto his stomach. This man was his uncle, or so he'd said—but who else would've attacked fellow Elites for the boy?

  Distrust warred in her, stories of the Oneiroi surfacing. Perhaps they'd take Sotiris and leave her and Mina behind as husks. Katya pressed her forehead into the grated catwalk. What would they do with him? Would they find a way to place him into the Magistrate's care? Would they pursue an alternative? Sweat crept along the back of her neck. Could she even do better than them, his own people?

  Letting go of her handguns, Katya reached into her shirt and removed the Jar'rask slate from where she'd stashed it. The C-Class interceptor breathed to life, causing three of the Oneiroi—the lieutenant and ensigns—to run toward the lift. She stood, both hands above her head, hoping no one would shoot.

  Clearing her throat, Katya shouted, "I took him from a tomb." She paused to let her wording sink in. "He was the only living thing among corpses." She wiggled the hand with the slate before tossing it to the captain, who leapt forward to catch it. The lift was now at the Oneiroi's level. They would be up soon. "Go to the seeing room—"

  The female commander's hand shot up. "Cap—"

  Katya swiveled. Boom! Pain seared through her shoulder and chest, dropping her to the walkway. Bursts of weapons fire followed, from the floor and above. Pressing her hand inches above her left breast, she met dampness. Tremors overtook her, but she kept her hand pressed against the exit wound. Above, another contingent of Jar'rasks had set up and now traded shots with the Oneiroi. One blast scuttled near her, ringing off the walk's metal.

  Lurching forward, Katya scooped up Sotiris and raced toward the ship. She didn't care to guess how much blood was leaving her. Her heart rattled an unsteady cadence. Below, heavier armaments entered the fray. The Jar'rasks had launched a two-prong assault. A blast ricocheted off the ship when she reached its hatch and stumbled in, just behind the cockpit.

  "Detach and disembark!" she barked.

  Mina did as told. Bracing herself, Katya pressed her right hand against her wound. Her extremities had a creeping chill; potentially, shock was setting in. She staggered around the metal screen that separated the small cockpit, with its two closely placed chairs, from the rest of the ship. She set Sotiris in the secondary chair and stood beside Mina's seat. The girl whipped them through the shield and into space. A welcome sight. Tapping the teen's shoulder, Katya nudged her head to the side, and Mina slid out of the seat.

  "You're wounded!"

  Taking the helm, Katya said, "Get something to stem the bleeding, a chest seal."

  The warship fired blasts at them, aware that their interceptor had been hijacked. Katya dodged them, the ship proving to be exceedingly responsive to her commands. The systems were also more advanced, even to the point of nullifying the need for RMP pills. She'd never flown something so . . . peppy.

  In another situation, she would have enjoyed it. She gritted her teeth through the pain, each movement jarring her wound and her aching hand. Get clear, get clear. Pulling out ahead of the blasts and stray fighters, she launched the navigation charts while staying out of reach. She picked a random destination—one in the middle of nowhere—for a jump. Satisfied, she activated the interceptor's FTL drive and punched it.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Akakios clutched the slate as he navigated the corridors of the Jar'rask warship—the Gershna—with his team. Ambrosios and Charis flanked him with Elpis in between. The twins guarded the rear. They met marginal resistance, though the majority of the ship's inhabitants saw fit to hide from them, either waiting for them to leave or planning to launch a sneak attack. Taking in the corpses they found along the way, it appeared the Jar'rasks had already been dealt some black eyes.

  The majority of the Jar'rasks' resistance came from above where their officers had the lifts locked down. Fortunately for them and their brethren Elites, Charis had been able to override their commands. His main concern with their "fellows" was that they'd be able to get their ship back online, effectively trapping his team; however, Akakios was confident that their strategic shots and the virus they'd uploaded into the A-Class warship through a Magistrate backdoor would keep the Gershna dead in space. But the longer they tarried, the more likely it was that they would have to take the bridge. A prospect Akakios didn't relish. A jump into the heart of Magistrate space or even near a military post would be disastrous. Their careers were already sacrificed . . . he wouldn't let them so easily throw their lives away.

  "The lizards are running scared," Ambrosios commented, breaking the eerie silence. "Good thing your gut about something being fishy was right, aye? After our entrance, we could be tried for treason and summarily executed. I still think you should've left one of the twins behind with the ship."

  "Kyrillos can manage the Boreas's armaments. And I think Chrysanthos's skills in combat have improved." Akakios cast a sideways glance at Ambrosios, who snorted.

  Their methods constituted treason. There were no alternative words to describe them. But they'd been able to uncover something of a truth, unconfirmed as it may be—an outsider's word could never be trusted. "I removed him from a tomb." Those words ran endlessly through his head, and he had to fight the sickening image of Sotiris with his parents' bodies nearby. But the image was stuck. And no matter how hard he tried to dislodge it, push it to the back of his mind, it remained, leaving him cold.

  They passed more corpses near the seeing room. Whatever was in there had better be good. Good enough to warrant their venturing farther into this boiling vessel. He'd thought to disregard it and pursue Sotiris immediately, but curiosity won out. Curiosity to know more about the people Sotiris traveled with. There'd been an edge in her voice, one he couldn't shake. No matter what
, he would track that woman. His nephew needed—

  Akakios grimaced, inhaling sharply, when another mind touched his with the finesse of a badger. Frantic, confused . . . the mind could only belong to an Oneiroi. Similar to Sotiris, the being behind door spewed images and emotions in the manner of a child who had forgotten how to communicate. But this child delivered to the Magistrate had a completely different method of communication, or language, than Sotiris. It wasn't the Magistrate tongue. Akakios frowned and mentally responded in an attempt to settle the other Oneiroi. Unlike his nephew, this one had been around another very different species for far too long.

  Next to him, Ambrosios stopped, his hands going to his head. His face scrunched and went an even more ghostly white as he stumbled, bracing himself against the wall. Across the communicative bond between them, he felt their wayward friend thoroughly examining his third in command's mind. Elpis approached Ambrosios, only to be waved away. Akakios heard Ambrosios mutter something about being fine.

  Going to the door, Akakios found it locked.

  "I'll get it open," Charis said. She brushed past him and got to work. A fine layer of sweat clung to her forehead, the heat wearing on her. "Whatever would this team do without me?" She smirked when the door popped open. "Not get through doors."

  Pelagia clapped her twin's shoulder. "We'd just use Pelagius's head." She chuckled at her brother's expense.

  Akakios inhaled when welcomed cold air struck his face. Their suits had made their passage through the Jar'rask vessel bearable, but this room, well, it was a relief. Even the lights were dimmed, perfect for their eyes. Removing his sunglasses, Akakios stepped in and froze. Clenching his fists, Akakios swallowed his revulsion while the muscles along his jawline twitched. What he'd expected—whatever it'd been, it hadn't been this. All the machinery, the slight frame . . .

  "Elpis," he managed to say.

  She approached the boy, an adolescent, one of the children they'd sent away, and launched her examination. In the doorway, Pelagius swore and his sister clenched her AAR, spoiling for a fight. Akakios rubbed his jaw and turned away, blocking out all the tubes and mutilations to the boy's body. Had Kallistrate and Amyntas found out about this? That this was the fate waiting for Sotiris?

  "Both of you outside," Charis ordered the twins. "Sir, we'll keep out unwanted intrusions."

  The trio exited, the twins griping about returning to the heat.

  Ambrosios moved closer to the boy. "I think this is a cousin on my line," he said. His eyes were mere slits, no doubt due to the preteen's continued intrusion into his mind. "Never met him in person; there was no ceremony with him . . . Zinon. I think that was his name. Probably around fourteen or fifteen. He was the second mark on the family and was delivered into the care of the Magistrate." Ambrosios frowned. "Poor Chrys . . . Little Zin has found that connection and is fascinated with it."

  Akakios tapped Elpis on the shoulder. "Can we get him off these machines?"

  Elpis squeezed her lips together as she examined each tube and machine. "Some of the machines, not all of them. They've been keeping his bodily functions running in a manner that counteracts the degradation resultant of the defect; he's probably been on them since he was three." Her hand skimmed against one of the machines attached to the boy's forehead, carefully avoiding its buttons. "The defect has been encouraged. These are neural devices, and they've been used to induce sleep. The gurney is designed to lessen bedsores, and these"—she peeled a little round metal device from the boy's legs—"are stimulating the muscles to prevent complete deterioration and blood clots. They're probably placed all over his body. What did they hope to achieve?"

  "They wanted to harness the defect and use it as a weapon . . . like they've already been wielding us. However, these children are soldiers groomed to do whatever their handlers ask them to." Akakios ran his hands through his hair. "Elpis, get him prepared to leave."

  "Then what?" Elpis asked, her tone rather sharp. "Some of these machines, I have no idea what they do . . . it'll take time to grasp everything these have done to him. How am I expected to maintain his health on the Boreas?"

  "I know you, Elpis. You’ll think of something."

  Swallowing, she shook her head and then said more quietly while gesturing to Ambrosios, who was resting his head against one of the metal walls, "And what if he drags us under?"

  "If Jar'rasks can keep one of our kind in this manner and not be drawn under, then we can—without these machines, without using these children like this." Akakios's voice cracked, images of Kallistrate cradling Sotiris bringing tears. "These are our children."

  Elpis ran a hand over her pinched face. Her hands were shaking, but all the same, she inspected the machinery, more intent on removing them. She murmured something under her breath as she tracked each tube's path, peeking under the gurney too. She touched a smaller machine under it, formulating some plan, or at least Akakios hoped she was. She had to.

  She stood from her stoop and clasped her hands in front of herself, stilling them. "I'll do what I can. Some of these might be portable." She bit her lip and faced the gurney, her hand seizing its edge. "This may be beyond me."

  "Do what you can. We aren't leaving him."

  Then facing away, Akakios came face-to-face with a metal table with a variety of items scattered on it: women's clothing, a few clothes belonging to a toddler, diapers, general toiletries, a few slates, blankets—Akakios touched a familiar toy in the shape of a Polikós yak. Its fuzzy surface still as soft as the day he had bought it. And there was the light cube, used to stimulate the mind. Akakios's lips quivered while he banished a memory of trying to dissuade Amyntas from purchasing the device, one a child with the defect couldn't possibly use.

  His hand faltered on Kallistrate's journal. He couldn't bring himself to crack it open. She may be gone, but it still felt like a breach of privacy. Prickling curiosity stirred to know what had been on her mind during those last days. But cunning as she was, Akakios doubted he'd find that answer among its pages.

  He almost choked on his spit, catching the silver glint of a holophoto frame. His hands clasped it. There they were, all three—two smiling back at him, the third asleep. He hadn't seen this photo before. Without a doubt, it was probably the most recent—the last—taken.

  His thumb passed over the image of his brother's face, causing it to flicker. The woman didn't have to take these objects; in fact, they would have hindered her. "Ambrosios, if you're able, go ahead and pack these. We'll return them to their owners."

  "Captain," Charis said from the door. "We've got guests."

  "Elpis, get to work. We'll handle them."

  Akakios joined Charis, Pelagia, and Pelagius. The air in the corridor had shifted, growing cooler, though it had a long way to go before it became comfortable. Slowly, their virus was tipping the scale in their favor now that it'd embedded itself into the habitation system.

  he sent along the channel between them.

  Elpis would need all the time she could get. And even then, it might not be enough if the Jar'rasks had managed to work past other elements of the virus and had called for help. But they would worry about that possibility later, he decided.

  Akakios fired off a blast, eliminating one of their attackers. They ran farther down the hall until they came across a group of six Jar'rasks, all wearing full armor. Their foe had created a makeshift barricade out of ration crates from the nearby mess hall and only lifted their heads above it to fire at the Oneiroi, who were forced to shelter behind the thin ribs in the metal wall.

  For now, they had to survive. Survive and find a way home—expose what had become of their children. He faltered and had to throw out his elbows to rebalance himself, ducking behind an outcropping along the wall in the process. A blast buzzed by and dinged off the wall a ways behind him.

  Did the Agoranomi know? Had Kyros . . . A grim line formed across his mouth. No, the man would have never approved of such a thing. None of them would hav
e; it broke everything their people held dear. He moved into the open, lining up his AVI M-10.

  Charis collided with him as a blast screamed by. she shouted in his mind.

  Gritting his teeth, he nodded. Focus. Clear this, take the bridge. He brought up his AVI M-10, breaking up bits of the crates with its rapid fire. Clang, clang, clag! It beat against armor. Between his and his teams' fire, the Jar'rasks lay battered.

  Stepping over them, a rush of adrenaline spiked through Akakios.

  Sotiris, he thought, I won't keep you waiting long.

  Stars and empty space, void of any civilization. Katya found it comforting. Bending over, she retrieved the cold compress, which had fallen off her battered hand, and returned it to its place even though it was no longer as cold as it should be. Her shoulder burned with the movement. She'd taken painkillers . . . She couldn't remember how long ago she'd taken them. There'd also been antibiotics with the bandages and chest seal. She hadn't bothered with the zerna ointment, given the severity of the wound.

  Resting her head against the back of the pilot's chair, she rubbed her sleep-encrusted eyes. Mina and Sotiris were back in the crew area—a cramped section that served as sleeping quarters, a galley, and a general location for R and R—where they slept on. She stared at the stars, not really focusing on them. Her mind still felt clouded. The ship would be easily tracked. She needed to move.

  Tears escaped her eyes as she grew immersed in the glowing orbs, nebulas, and distant planets. She'd forgotten how beautiful they could be. She wiped the moistness away and removed the IV that'd been keeping her hydrated. There'd been no blood packs for humans, and she was certain she needed a blood transfusion. She rose and swayed, grabbing onto the metal mesh wall. When her world steadied, she went to check on Mina and Sotiris.

  Mina still looked like death warmed over, but her face was more relaxed as she slept in the top bunk. Of course, the strong painkillers they'd found on board were undoubtedly responsible for that. Katya touched the IV attached to Mina. She'd have to detach it soon. Below, Sotiris blinked at her. He'd rolled onto his stomach at some point.