by Rebecca Rode
That did seem familiar, but references to the vanguard were always in the past. “They’re still out there?” Ember asked. “I thought the Empire already conquered everything.” Of course, the Daughter had once mentioned the realm having a boundary. Maybe it was something the Empire didn’t want its citizens to dwell on.
The general sent a glare at the Albines. “The universe is a big place, flare. Power must be seized. Not only does the Empire need homages to keep things running, but ensuring our neighbors are loyal makes the entire realm more secure. Or so they believe.”
Stefan exhaled. “But it also stretches their resources, which means less military power for domestic issues.”
Maybe that was the point. The tighter Ruben squeezed, the more citizens revolted and the more troops were required to keep them in line. But if he had a nearly unstoppable force at his disposal . . .
The training captain frowned. “How many ships are we talking about, exactly?”
“Thousands,” Sa’Kahn said. “Hundreds of thousands of fighters and several million soldiers—all very experienced and hardened from decades at war.”
General Pyne nodded, not seeming to care that he’d just agreed with their guest. “These are people who haven’t seen their families since they were infants. But that isn’t the worst part.” He took a deep breath. “The vanguard was created to sweep entire planets quickly. They use chemical warfare.”
Ember shivered. “How does that work?”
Sa’Kahn spoke up now. “It depends on the planet. Sometimes they gas the atmosphere until the residents are unconscious. Other times they destroy crops, poison water supplies, or destroy entire industries to prevent independent sustenance and trade. Once the planet yields, leaders are executed and families are separated until proven loyal. Then they plant vanguard teams to teach the citizens Common, estimate homage payments, and demand a percentage of their young for the military. Some of those offered are sent back to the Empire, but most become vanguard soldiers. Thus the cycle continues. But that, unfortunately, isn’t the worst part as you say. There’s something far more chilling.” She swept the room with her gaze. Everyone hung on her every word now. “The Empire leadership is of human heritage and are partial to those who look and talk like them. They’re afraid of those who do not, so they extinguish them.”
“Those who don’t look and talk like us,” Captain Terrance repeated, his voice heavy with awe. “So it’s true. There are other types of intelligent life out there.”
“It would require an Albine lifetime to describe them all to you,” Sa’Kahn said. “And Albines live a very long time.”
“Pardon my rudeness,” Reina said, finally leaving the back wall to join the group in the center. “But your kind aren’t strictly human either, and they didn’t extinguish you.”
“But we have the same physical weaknesses as humans, which made us easy to conquer.” There was the smallest hint of bitterness in Sa’Kahn’s tone. “We have learned to cooperate with humans for our own survival. They fear our abilities, so we keep them hidden.”
Ember always believed the Empire was terrible, but this was worse than she imagined. Genocide? Most of her fellow soldiers during flicker training had looked similar to her, obviously of human descent. But occasionally there was a being who stood out, like the pink-haired guard Talon and her unnatural height. She’d hinted once that she hadn’t willingly joined the military. This new revelation added a whole new element to Talon’s forced enlistment. Not only had her freedom been at stake if she refused but probably the lives of her loved ones as well.
What percentage of the Empire’s forces didn’t even want to be there? How many of the realm’s worlds would prefer their independence? And how many souls had lost their lives fighting for it?
A new determination swelled within Ember. That was why they struggled. Once they defeated Ruben, Ember would dismantle the Empire as she should have the first time and establish something better.
I was always meant to be a god.
Ember flung the thought away in disgust. The shadow began to laugh again.
“How long does the poison last?” the engineer asked. “I mean, when they’re gassing planets to destroy a planet’s agriculture.”
The Albine materna frowned, but Sa’Kahn answered easily. “A small dose means months without crops. A heavy dose could sterilize the soil for decades.”
Ember met Stefan’s gaze. By the alarmed look on his face, she knew he was thinking the same thing. They’d tested the soil and fortified it without success. Had the vanguard come through here first, decades before? Was that how the natives lost their lives? A chill wriggled down her spine.
If the revolutionaries did nothing, they would be next.
“Do we know where the vanguard is now?” Captain Terrance asked.
“It was called back nearly six weeks ago,” Sa’Kahn said. “It has reached the outer quadrants already. It was last seen sweeping the sixteenth through nineteenth sectors.”
For the third time, a stunned silence gripped the room.
“All four at once?” Stefan choked.
Sa’Kahn nodded. It looked unnatural on her. “They travel in net formation. This enables them to sweep more distance.”
The revolution hid in the twelfth sector. That meant they had not weeks but days. If they were lucky. Stars. If Sa’Kahn was telling the truth, they were in serious trouble.
“You keep saying ‘sweep,’” Reina said. “What exactly does that mean?”
Sa’Kahn inclined her head. “That is where our warning comes in. We believe they are searching for you, Ember Gheorghe. They are gassing every remote planet or moon that can sustain life, then sending in search drones. It is certainly an ‘attack first, ask questions later’ endeavor, as you say.”
Ember’s breath came hard and fast. The ventilation system still whined overhead, struggling to cool the crowded room, but she felt like she was suffocating. The processing caverns, like the housing units, were created to fit only a few people at a time. This one held twelve. It wasn’t hard to imagine being stuck down here, crammed in and sweating, just waiting for unconsciousness to fall as their oxygen ran out.
Ember had been worried about her followers starving to death or dying at the end of a soldier’s weapon. This was far worse.
“Sa’Kahn is right,” Stefan broke in. Ember saw the strain in his posture. He did not want to admit this. “If the vanguard really has been called back, we can’t hide for long. We can temporarily seal the caverns, but that means no oxygen reaches the lower levels. And that’s assuming they don’t discover our water. It would be too easy to slip something in.”
The head engineer looked reluctant. “True, unfortunately. Our oxygen pumps take air from the surface and filter it through a complicated system. The pumps would remove some of the toxicity, but not all. The workers would be knocked out before they finished changing the filters.” He glanced at the other cabinet members. “I suppose they could wear masks, but I doubt we have enough to last more than a couple days across all four pumps. And the water filters are practically useless against poison. Not much we can do there.”
There was only one thing to do. “We evacuate, then,” Ember said. “Go straight to Helden Farr and start over.” Their backup station was located on a small moon. It was a temporary solution, but it was located on the other side of the giant planet cluster. It would take the vanguard weeks to reach them there. They could find a more permanent solution in the meantime.
“You’re forgetting a very important detail,” Stefan said. “Even after this last raid, we don’t have the supplies to transport fourteen thousand people to Helden Farr. It’s almost a month away.”
“Space is only one issue,” the mechanic said. He was a thin man who rarely spoke, and he flinched as the entire room turned toward him. “The power circuits on most of our vessels have a strict load capacity. They can’t operate on maximum power for a month straight without burning up all our cores. We’d end up
stranded without replacement parts.”
To Ember’s surprise, it was Captain Terrance who jumped to her aid. “Then we need to steal more ships. Preferably another freighter or two. If we’re lucky, they’ll be loaded with the exact supplies we need to make the journey.”
General Pyne scowled. “We don’t have time for any more missions.”
The captain’s voice rose with excitement. “Just one last cargo run, sir. The MaKan convoy passes through by this system the day after tomorrow. It transports from the Lenno-na system. They provide almost half of the Empire’s fresh food, which means their ships are well-maintained, roomy, and full of newly packaged nutrition. We steal a couple and maybe a passenger ship and we’re set to go.”
“I don’t think you understand the danger involved,” General Pyne said. “It’s a bunch of cargo ships under hired security. If there was ever a convoy we should not attack, it’s a large, fully armed one like the MaKan. We’d lose half our fleet.”
“I wasn’t proposing we attack them in our might, General.” The captain’s eyes darted to Ember. “I thought this could be a flicker team thing, a small unit breaking in and taking them down from the inside. And I do understand the danger. My mother used to work with teamsters in her transportation business, so I’ve traveled in many a formation. The MaKan convoy will never expect an attack of this nature.”
“Because it won’t work,” Stefan grumbled, unfolding his arms and stepping away from the wall. “Those huge ships are impenetrable.”
An idea blossomed in Ember’s mind. “How does one go about joining such a convoy?”
The captain grinned, seeing her plan immediately. “Easy. Pay a fee to the shipmaster and you’re in. They’re a suspicious bunch, but when it comes down to it, these guys are in it for the cash. If you’re willing, I volunteer to head this mission.”
“This is crazy,” Stefan muttered. “We don’t have any evidence that the vanguard is even headed this way. We could be taking a huge risk for nothing. And we haven’t even addressed the issue with our guests yet. Who are listening, by the way.”
Ember looked around at the cabinet, who for some reason was watching her. Everyone knew Ember would be a major part of Captain Terrance’s plan if they carried it out. Sa’Kahn still stared at her with that eerie expression of hers. Ember couldn’t think of a single reason why this woman would lie about the vanguard. And if the visitors had dark intentions, they would have made their move by now. If only she knew for sure.
This wasn’t the time for propriety. She had to see for herself.
Ember reached out inwardly, slow and cautious. She sensed Sa’Kahn’s inner light, but the material comprising the woman’s shield—soft and flexible rather than hard and unyielding—was impenetrable. There were no openings whatsoever. It was like trying to stab through a rubber ball. Though the newcomer didn’t look at her, Ember thought she saw the woman’s lips turn slightly downward.
Ember pulled back, defeated. One thing was certain. The Albines couldn’t expect Ember to leave with them now, not when her settlement was in such danger. If Er’len truly wanted to talk politics with Ember, he would have to wait until she got everyone out safely. Protection for her people first, overthrowing the Empire second. She agreed with Stefan about that at least.
Stefan faced the group. “I’ll have my comms techs look into the vanguard threat. We need to confirm—”
“That will take time,” Ember jumped in. “Time we don’t have. If we’re going to attack the convoy in two days, we need to begin preparations now. We’ll have to forgo the vote. The settlement will begin its evacuation for Helden Farr while we’re gone. Have Sa’Kahn and her companions shown to private quarters until then. Once we’ve safely evacuated, I’ll decide what to do about Er’len.”
For once, the general didn’t argue. Captain Terrance looked strangely delighted, probably eager for the mission. The engineer and mechanic appeared glum. But Stefan . . .
He stared at Ember as if she were a stranger, his jaw working as if he were about to object. He seemed to think better of it and slid the bolt open, freeing the door and allowing a fresh, cool breeze to fill the small cavern.
Then he was gone.
Chapter 7
Ember stood on her doorstep, fingering the flaking layer of bright paint she’d applied to it the summer before. The window in front was whole, perfect, like no rock had ever shattered it. The faint sound of Dai snoring hovered in the air, as did the smell of newly roasting pig over an open flame. She let it permeate her nostrils and breathed it in. Never had the scent of meat smelled so good.
Roma townspeople wandered the worn dirt road despite the early hour. Boria carried bags full of meat and vegetables to sell at the market, their colorful skirts swaying with each step. Most of the young married women had been up for hours already. An older man shaved under a tree, scraping his chin clean while children watched in fascination. Herman. He’d always enjoyed his daily performance for the village’s young ones.
This was life. This was right.
And then it wasn’t. A dark shadow moved impossibly fast over the scene, the cloud stealing the color and bathing the village in darkness. As it swirled around the village like the beginnings of a tornado hovering overhead, Ember’s happiness shriveled and blew away on the wind.
Herman splashed water on his face and gasped dramatically, drawing a delighted giggle from the surrounding children. The only quiet one was a young, round-faced girl of about six, her hair wild and sticking up on one side. Jaelle, her neighbor. She stared at the sky with horrified eyes.
The clouds deepened, growing blacker with each second that passed. Then the morning sun was just a memory, hidden behind a thick fog. Ember barely saw the buildings around her now. Terror gripped her throat. This storm wasn’t natural. How could her town not see the danger swirling around their heads?
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted in Romani, “Go home! Seek shelter quickly!”
Herman picked up his water bucket and dumped it over his head, the children shrieking with delight, leaping to their feet to applaud. Only Jaelle, frozen in fear, seemed to hear Ember.
Ember leaped off the step and planted herself in the middle of the packed dirt road, facing down the approaching women and their heavy loads. “Do you not see the sky or feel the wind? Look up!”
The women walked past as if Ember had never been there at all.
Down the road, Bianca stepped out of her home. She held little Luca’s hand. Both wore wide smiles. Luca’s hair was neatly combed, his shirt newly pressed. Bianca had risen early indeed.
Ember was already running. She halted just in front of her friend, blocking her path. She could barely hear her own voice now for the vicious wind whipping her hair about. “Take him inside. It isn’t safe here. This storm means us harm.”
Bianca looked at Ember, her gaze turning sad. “Oh, Ember. When will you see that the storm is you?”
Staring at her friend, Ember took a step backward into the road. What was that supposed to mean?
Ember looked around at the villagers, who still plodded about their daily tasks as if nothing were wrong. Then she looked at the sky. The darkest part of the cloud had begun to descend from the sky like a giant black finger.
Then it stabbed at Ember.
Pain exploded in her stomach. She screamed, but the knife twisting in her gut, then began yanking and sawing through her body until she had no breath left in her. Just before she was about to give in, she gathered her last bit of strength and threw herself at the blackness.
* * *
Ember hit the ground with a yelp, her entire body trembling and soaked in sweat. Her breaths came in desperate, ragged gasps. The space around her was dark, the air stuffy and cool as always. No giant clouds, no clucking hens. No familiar, comforting snoring from inside a small stucco structure. Just a cavern inside a mountain, far from home.
It was just another nightmare.
She’d slept too deeply, then.
She couldn’t let that happen again. Ember sensed the shadow hovering in her mind, waiting. Did it have something to do with the giant blackness filling the sky in her dream?
As she pulled her legs in to get up, her foot hit something hard. She sucked in a breath and recoiled, heart hammering in her chest. She reached out into the darkness, half hoping it was her imagination at work again.
A man’s arm.
With a cry, Ember stumbled to the sofa where she kept her lantern. She switched it on and whirled around.
Stefan lay unconscious on the floor, a blanket twisted around his legs as if he’d stumbled over it.
“Stefan,” she cried, stumbling over to him. Stars, no! She could imagine it—her crying out, Stefan waking from the sofa and hurrying over, reaching out to wake her from her nightmare as he had done so many times. “No, no, no. Please wake up.” She’d only been defending herself. It wasn’t supposed to be real.
He lay still.
Hands trembling, she placed her fingers to his neck, then released her breath in a long, strangled gasp.
He was alive. She hadn’t killed him.
Her relief was so sharp she nearly collapsed on top of him. Neraline had tried to warn her about Dai’s symptoms. At the time, Ember was so overcome with grief she hadn’t listened carefully. If only she could remember. Something about his eyes growing hard and his struggle to remember who his friends were.
And then he would do strange things, Neraline had said. Horrible things—nightmares, panic attacks that often ended with . . . Stars. She remembered.
Nightmares that ended with bodies on the floor.
If only Neraline were here now. Ember had so many questions about her father’s struggle, things she would never know. Things he should have explained to her when they had the chance. The last good-bye had stolen him before Ember even knew what to ask.