by Rebecca Rode
“They’ve nearly broken through,” Harlow said.
This wasn’t working. She reflected on that moment when Ruben had broken through her shield and seized control. There had been nothing gentle about it.
She cradled the man’s light in her hands, then plunged her arm in. Instead of reading what was inside, however, she forced her inner light to overtake his.
Foreign memories flashed before her eyes, memories experienced by another. A feeling of sad, overwhelming disappointment overcame her. The sounds of gunfire and the worried whispers of her friends faded.
She sat at a table, a microphone to her mouth. She studied the control panel in front of her—er, him. It was far more complicated than she could ever comprehend. A single switch covered with a clear plastic box caught her attention. She swung it open and slammed her—his—fist down onto it.
The shooting stopped so suddenly it jerked Ember right out of the man’s soul. She blinked, relieved to see her own hands again. For a moment she had been him, connected with him as though they were one. She’d done it.
Ember sent a gentle blow to the operator’s light, sending him into unconsciousness. She couldn’t have him sending the mechs after them, after all. She hoped by the time he was discovered, their purpose would be fulfilled.
She turned to face her companions, who openly gaped at her. She gave them a tight smile and retrieved the knife from her boot. Then she initiated the hatch opening sequence. “Time to run.”
Harlow was a step behind the others, but he retrieved his stunner and followed. They shoved their way through the descending hatch and sprinted down the gangplank, the mechs that had shot at them quiet and still now.
“Can someone tell me what just happened?” Harlow asked once they reached the corridor. “It’s like they all just . . . turned off.”
Ember ignored the question. She felt as though she’d plunged her arm elbow-deep into a puddle of mud and she couldn’t quite shake the man’s despondency from her soul. She’d manipulated a man’s light. For a brief, terrible moment, she’d become like Ruben.
You are like him, that inner voice whispered. Or perhaps he is like you. Either way, you can learn from each other.
Ember’s stomach clenched. The voice was back, but this time she knew exactly what it was. She didn’t have time to fight with herself. They had enough enemies.
“Strong shields,” Reina said as they entered the corridor.
Ember wasn’t Ruben, but the light had one thing right. To defeat Ruben, she’d need everything she had learned. She focused for a moment, changing her shield. The nut shape felt unfamiliar, which meant it would require more thought to maintain. But if it meant buying them a few more seconds to accomplish their task, it was worth the effort.
Reina frowned. “Are you sure the emperor is here, flare? Because I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Me neither,” Brennan said. He placed his back against the wall and peered around a corner, weapon at the ready. “These corridors are emptier than they should be. The ship must be on lockdown. If the emperor was here, he’s probably long gone.”
Ember reached out inwardly once more. The emperor’s light flickered several decks above them as it had before. But something was still off about it. She tried touching it, but it seemed as if a sheet of glass separated her from his location. She could see his light, sense it, but she couldn’t handle it.
Ruben and Ember had sensed that shuttle on their last mission, but none of the flickers had. Flares must have had a stronger range. It simply meant Ember would have to face the man while she killed him. She swallowed, recoiling from the emperor’s light and pulling back to herself.
Sand and water.
“He’s here,” she told her team, her hand tightening around the knife. “And I know exactly where he is. Follow me.”
Chapter 27
Stefan expected his guards to toss him into an execution chamber or interrogation room, but to his surprise, they escorted him back to his office.
Kane’s office. Or rather, Ruben’s. It belonged to a Kane before him, and it was returning to a Kane now. Stefan was a placeholder, a fraud. The thought bothered him more than it should.
“Why here?” Stefan asked a guard as they dropped him on the sofa, his hands still secured behind him.
“The flare ordered it,” Harpen snapped from the doorway.
He blinked. “You left the meeting to follow us?”
“His Eminence sends me to all the executions. Needs a witness he can trust.” She lifted her weapon, adjusted the setting, and trained it on Stefan. For a second he thought this was it—the moment he would die.
Alarm shot through him. So Kane’s son wanted Stefan to die here, on his sofa? Why hadn’t he done it in the conference room in front of everyone?
But the woman didn’t hit the trigger. She simply smirked and kept her weapon trained on him. “The new high commander wanted to do it himself,” she said. “Not sure why. It’s not like shooting you is an honor. The Union and that worthless gypsy will finally die today, and he’s up there watching the feed while I’m stuck here babysitting lover boy.”
Stefan’s heart nearly shot out of his chest. Ember was still alive. There was a chance she’d survive all this. Now if he could just get himself free and warn her.
“Better place some guards at the door, too,” Karyl said from the doorway. “You don’t know what this flicker is capable of.”
He frowned. Karyl wasn’t a friend by any means, or even a comrade, but he’d thought they at least trusted each other. Apparently that trust had been one-sided.
Keeping her weapon trained on Stefan, Harpen turned to examine Karyl. “Assistant. Come in here. Guards, situate yourselves near the doors. I have the prisoner well in hand.”
Karyl stepped inside with her head bowed as the guards went to obey. Stefan had never seen her take such a stance before, even when there were superiors present. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, her voice high and soft.
“Tell me what you mean by that. What has this flicker done?”
“He is prone to fits of temper when cornered, ma’am. I’d give the boy some distance if I were you. And don’t look him in the eye. It can be a bit . . . unsettling.”
Fits of temper? What in the stars? Stefan stared at her, uncomprehending. Then he saw how her mouth tugged upward, hiding what was obviously an amused smile.
Harpen smirked. “Yes, young flickers are all like that. Leave us. And don’t presume to order my guards about. Remember your place, or you’ll spend the night in a cell.”
“Of course.” Karyl inclined her head again and turned to leave. But as she reached the doorway, her fingers brushed against the sensor. The doors slid shut right in front of her. “Oops.”
Harpen whirled to find the doors closed and her guards outside. As she leveled her gaze at Karyl, the weapon inched away from Stefan and aimed at the desk instead.
Fits of temper, indeed. Stefan leaped to his feet and threw himself at the woman. The stunner fell from her hand, clattering to the floor. But his victory was short-lived. The woman was already on him, sending a blow to his face that he couldn’t block with his hands secured. He rolled just in time, landing hard on his shoulder. Harpen cursed and began to search the floor for her fallen stunner.
Pounding sounded from outside. The guards. Karyl stood calmly by the door. Muffled shouts sounded from the other side, and then the banging began again. They’d call for backup soon. Stefan had to defeat this woman now.
Harpen had retrieved another stunner from her belt, smaller but just as lethal. And Stefan didn’t even have the use of his arms.
He rolled to keep her off balance, then swung awkwardly to his feet and leaped behind the sofa, nearly losing his balance. His instincts cried out for him to run, to fight, to flee—but his body froze in horror. Stefan had no weapon, nowhere to hide. All he could do was sit and watch death claim him at the hands of a lowly guard.
He heard a soft footstep come toward him. Then
another.
It would be over soon. Commander Kane’s son would enter soon, find his body, and order his remains ejected from the ship, preserved forever in the frozen dark nothingness of empty space.
Ember.
If she were alive, he had to warn her to stay away forever. As terrible as that procedure room was, knowing she would be in the hands of the other flare enraged him.
He didn’t think. He just rolled.
The shot whooshed past him as he whirled to the side. Then he hid behind a second soft chair that caught part of the weapon’s deadly blow. It vibrated. That stunner was definitely set to red.
The pounding on the door stopped. There was talking on the other side. Had backup arrived already? Or had they managed to bypass the locking mechanism somehow?
He was out of time. He reached out with his inner light and cursed. The woman was heavily shielded. She must have felt his touch because pressure began to build against his own shield. It was weak compared to the substantial power of Ruben’s touch, but it was obvious Harpen was stronger than most of their kind. As long as neither could penetrate the other’s defenses, they’d be doing this the old-fashioned way. He’d simply have to find himself a weapon.
He placed his head on the floor for the second time that day, craning his neck to see past the chair’s legs. There it was—the stunner that had so blessedly fallen from Harpen’s hand. Karyl was creeping toward it, as yet unseen by the emperor’s assistant. He had to distract the woman so Karyl could reach it. But there were few options—a sofa, a side table with an ironboar stone on top . . .
An ironboar stone.
He sat up and turned around, trying to grab the strange piece of art between his locked arms. It was far too heavy to lift, let alone throw, from that angle. He gave up and placed his foot on the table leg, then kicked with all his strength.
Stefan expected it to move a little. Instead, the leg snapped. The miniature meteor slid from the top and hit the ground with a heavy thump. Harpen turned at the sound and spotted Stefan. With a grin, she strode toward him, her stunner aimed squarely at his chest.
But in one smooth motion, Karyl swiped the weapon off the ground, aimed it, then closed her finger on the trigger.
An invisible fist seemed to slam into Harpen, and she flew several feet in midair, an expression of shock on her face. She landed on the floor, then went still.
Stefan released a long breath and stumbled to his feet. Karyl stared at Harpen’s body with an expression of revulsion. “I never liked her.”
The pounding at the door stopped. The guards were likely going to get help now.
“Nice shot,” Stefan told her. “A little too good for a lowly assistant, I might add.”
Karyl grinned and shoved the stunner into her belt. “I might have a wee bit of training.”
Suddenly it all came together—Karyl’s skill at research, her secret passcodes. “You’re a Union plant, aren’t you?”
The woman’s grin widened. “I’ve covered this ship for months. I volunteered to serve you when nobody else stepped forward. Figured it would make for interesting intel at the very least.”
He groaned. “You’ve had contact with the Union this entire time?” He’d searched so desperately, and the key to reaching Ember had been sitting outside his office all along. “Can you reach them now? Can you get a message to—” He paused. He sensed a presence a few decks above them, someone he hadn’t expected to feel ever again. He dove at the person’s inner light and hovered there a moment. She was protected by a strange, nearly round shield, but he knew it was her.
His heart leaped inside him. She was alive, and she was here. He had to find her.
“No,” Karyl said when he didn’t finish. “They’re evacuated. And don’t ask me where they went, because I’m not allowed to know.”
He barely heard, the possibility of reuniting with Ember occupying his mind and soul. She was so close. But something deep inside told him he’d missed an essential detail. The medical records, the flare research. The emperor’s journal entry.
The girl said my daughter would one day murder me as I lay upon my bed. Then she’d set the Empire on a stormy, war-filled path that would lead to the extermination of nearly every existing race.
If Ember really did have that virus—and if there were indeed other flares like Kane being created—he had to find out how it worked and why. It was vital to the survival of the realm. He felt it in his gut.
“See if you can get this thing off,” he said, angling his arms toward Karyl. “Quickly.”
It took her a few tries, but she finally managed to spring the mechanism that released his bonds. He tossed the lock aside and turned to Kane’s desk.
“They’ll be back any second,” he said. “We’ve got to get those cabinets open.”
Now she looked positively horrified. “What? No, we’ve got to get out of here. I was seen coming in here. My cover is blown.”
“Trust me. This is important.” He strode over and examined the locks. They must have been of Kane’s own design, digital yet mechanical. Probably required all kinds of spoken words and access codes, maybe even fingerprints.
“The codebreakers already tried,” Karyl said. “They couldn’t figure out how to get in. Last I heard, they scheduled demolition to get the cupboards removed. Tomorrow, I think.”
Demolition. That was it. Stefan scoured the room for a moment before settling his gaze on the fallen rock. It had cracked the hard floor beneath it in the fall but remained intact.
Stefan smiled.
Chapter 28
How many corners are there on this stupid ship?” Reina muttered, a stunner in each hand as she flattened herself against the wall.
“They built them all just to torment you, Reina,” Brennan said. “Only two more corridors once this group passes. Then our only obstacle will be a couple of soldiers. We’re nearly there.”
Harlow nodded as if he’d spoken directly to him. He probably had. Harlow was the only member of the team who couldn’t sense the approaching soldiers, and he seemed to resent that fact. He wiped his damp neck with a worn shirtsleeve and checked the settings on his stunner again.
Ember hated moving so slowly. They were fortunate to have gotten this far, but the Empire would discover the technician she’d downed in the mech booth at any moment, and they’d be in serious trouble.
Brennan was correct about the lockdown. They’d encountered only two groups of soldiers on the way here, and both had been too distracted to notice them until it was too late. It was almost as if the lockdown was caused by something completely unrelated to their presence.
It had to be the gathering near the emperor’s location, Ember decided. It had dispersed fifteen minutes ago, the officers scattering throughout the ship. Something important had happened in that meeting. Even Stefan had escaped the room quickly, ahead of the others. She could feel him a few decks below. His earlier anger had muted to a sharp determination. Did he know she was here? Was that why he’d run away so quickly?
I don’t care, she scolded herself. He’d made his position clear. The fact that he stayed away now only confirmed her suspicions that he’d changed.
She forced her thoughts back to their situation. Even if Stefan didn’t know she was here, Ruben did. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t challenged her yet. If he wanted her dead so he could have the emperor’s glory, why allow her to approach unhindered? The only logical explanation was that he was distracted by whatever had caused the lockdown.
Harlow swore, looking behind them. “We’ve got company.”
Ember turned as Reina groaned. The pounding of a dozen mechanized footsteps was unmistakable. They’d found the mech operator. She adjusted the knife in her hand, which suddenly felt ridiculously inadequate.
“Stunners do absolutely nothing against those things,” Brennan said. Positioning himself in front of Harlow, he retrieved a strange-looking stunner from his jacket. It fit awkwardly in his hand and had a huge barrel.
“You all go on ahead. This should take out a few of them at least.”
“This isn’t the time to test your antique weapons, Bren,” Reina said, frowning in distaste as she examined the weapon. “What is that, anyway?”
“A Taser. Preceded the stunner, but this model supposedly shorts out anything with wiring. It’s over two hundred Earth years old. Would’ve used it earlier, but the seller said it only works on one machine at a time.” He fiddled with a panel at the bottom. Then there was a faint buzz. He aimed it at the corner where the mechs would emerge any moment.
“An ancient Taser against a group of mechs? I think our trip’s rotted your brain.” But she crouched next to her brother, stunners raised. Then she called over her shoulder to Ember. “If you guys are going on ahead, you’d better go now.”
Ember paused. She couldn’t leave the twins alone against so many mechs, but soldiers now approached from the opposite direction. If she waited much longer, her entire team would be caught in the mayhem. She reached out again, searching for the mech operator. There were simply too many shields to break through, too many people to read.
“Go!” Reina hissed.
Harlow grabbed Ember’s arm and yanked her around the corner just as the contingent of soldiers arrived. Like the others, they seemed surprised to see her stumbling down the hallway. As they aimed their weapons, Ember swept the entire group and sprinted past as they fell. A victorious shout sounded from Brennan farther back. Apparently the antique Taser worked.
Footsteps sounded from ahead. Harlow put on a new burst of speed and stunned the couple as they rounded the next corner, their eyes wide in shock. Ember leaped around their falling bodies and raced after him. The room where all the officers had met lay just ahead beyond a set of double doors. Only a few officers remained, and she could take them down easily. But that wasn’t her destination. She could feel the emperor’s dim light just meters away.