by Erica Rue
“I have doubts about Sam’s ability to deliver on that promise in her current condition. She’s the one who wrecked the Calypso in the first place.” Oberon thought a moment before adding, “What if it was on purpose?”
Zane cocked his head to one side. He hadn’t thought of that. He didn’t think Sam would do something like that, but the timing was convenient. “I don’t think so. She would have asked, just like last time with the charging matrix. Even if she did do it on purpose, it doesn’t matter now. The damage is done, and by refusing, the only people we’d be hurting are the colonists. I don’t think it’s much of a choice.”
“No,” Oberon said. “I still think I can fix the Calypso. She’s been with me for so long. I’m sure there’s something I haven’t thought of yet. I just need a little more time.”
“If there was a way, you’d have figured it out by now,” Zane said. “Sam said she’d be able to get us a Flyer if we help her.”
“There’s a way back for the Calypso,” Oberon insisted. “I won’t give up on her any more than I’d give up on you or one of the girls.”
“Let me see,” Zane said, holding out his hand. Oberon once again handed over the tablet. Zane exhaled and studied the simulation carefully, checking all of the parameters Oberon had entered, but nothing seemed amiss. He might be able to do a physical hull repair, but the damage to the internal systems was beyond the capability of the nanotech. Zane handed back the tablet. “I have another question.”
“What now?”
“Why bother fixing her? Her jump drive is useless. We’re never getting that charging matrix back. We’re never going to leave this planet in the Calypso. Fixing her is a waste of time and resources.”
“She’s my ship!” Oberon protested. “When we do leave, whatever ship takes us can dock her.”
“But she can do good here. Integrating some of her components will allow this base and the Icon to continue to function. What if the Vens come back?”
Oberon frowned.
“Think of it like organ donation. Without Sam, this base has a brain with no real processing power. Grafting the Calypso onto the old AI will save both of their lives.”
The silence that hung between them was heavy. Finally, Oberon bowed his head. “Do you know what I went through to get this ship? The amount of paperwork and grant applications? Have you ever filled out a grant application, Zane?”
Oberon cracked a sad smile. Zane could tell that deep down, the professor knew the Calypso was dead, but his emotional connection kept him hanging on to a hope that wasn’t there. Zane needed to find a way to help him say goodbye.
“Don’t think of it as a goodbye,” he tried. “Think of it as her new legacy.”
Zane left the professor in the cargo bay staring at his tablet. Whatever was on his mind, for the moment, it wasn’t the Calypso’s repairs. Bel was right when she said that none of them would be the same after Kepos, but she hadn’t really included Oberon in her assessment. Zane was coming to realize that she should have.
14. BEL
The day passed slowly. Bel’s legs ached, and her backside was sore from uneven gait of the machi. She hadn’t ridden an animal since she was a child back on the Dappled Rim, before the colony had been destroyed. Back then she’d shared with her brother Halen, and she didn’t remember it being so uncomfortable. She enjoyed the machi’s damp, earthy smell. Its speed also impressed her, even though a maximute could easily outpace one.
Lithia rode in silence next to her, a frown wrinkling her face. Normally, Lithia didn’t stop talking. Bel and Dione could work in silence without a problem, but Lithia? Any time they got paired up at school, Bel had struggled to focus under the constant barrage of questions and snarky comments.
Bel enjoyed the silence, though, and soaked in the breeze that rustled the tree branches. The buzz of insects was musical, beating throughout the forest like a pulse—easy to tune out, but omnipresent, a reassuring vital sign. She basked in the warmth of the day and the arboreal melody, relaxing so much she didn’t realize her hunger until Theo called for a lunch break.
She and Lithia ate quickly. The food filled her, and she found herself lost in her thoughts again until Lithia finally said something.
“Are you going to eat that?” She pointed to the heel of bread in Bel’s hand.
“Here.” Bel handed it over and stood, more restless now than hungry. “I’m just going to stretch my legs a bit.”
Lithia’s response was muffled by a mouthful of bread, but Bel was already off. Careful to stay within earshot of the caravan, she began to explore the forest. This was her first time really examining her surroundings. Before, with the Vens in full force, she’d only had eyes for research and revenge.
Looking around her now, she saw the imperfect beauty of the native trees, scarred by insects and birds. Not everything on this planet had been engineered by Jameson and the other scientists, and those organisms deserved just as much of her appreciation.
Shouts abruptly broke the serenity of the wilderness. Bel crunched through the bushes back to the caravan.
A man two or three years younger than Cora struggled against Theo in vain. He had dark hair and a large nose. He had not been a part of their group, and it didn’t take long for Bel to put the pieces together.
They thought he was a Green Cloak.
The boy shook his head as he replied to a question Bel had not heard. “I’m not with them.”
“Then why are you out here?” Cora said. “I recognize you. What’s your name?”
“Asher. I had to get out of the town. I was going to check on the farms, see if they were all right.” His voice shook when he spoke.
“Everyone was supposed to stay put,” she said. “Why are you really out here? Going to warn your Green Cloak friends?”
“I already told you, I couldn’t stand being in the town anymore. I can’t be the only one. Doesn’t your cousin Evy run off all the time? What if you found her out here?”
Cora’s voice was stone. “She’s ten, and she didn’t open the gates for the Ven army. Did you?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Are you a Green Cloak?”
“No, I’m not.” His eyebrows knitted together in a frown.
Cora looked the young man up and down. “I don’t believe you.” When he protested, she drew her pila blade and held its tip to his chest.
Cora was going to kill this boy, and Bel had doubts about his guilt. He was tall and lanky, barely old enough to be involved. If he were a Green Cloak, he had probably been manipulated or dragged along by a trusted adult. She could see in Cora’s eyes that she wouldn’t care about this distinction.
Bel made her way to Lithia. “Do something,” she urged.
“Like what?” Lithia replied. “Stop her?”
“Exactly that, yes,” Bel said. “Or she’s going to kill him in front of us.”
Lithia clenched her hands at her sides, but did not turn to look at Bel. “ If he’s a Green Cloak scumbag, maybe he deserves it.”
“And if he’s not?” Bel was afraid of the answer. She felt the anger radiating off of her friend. Lithia didn’t have the chance to respond before one of their group spoke up.
“He’s just a boy.” Heads turned toward the voice. It was Gavin, the man Elijah had volunteered. “Just think, he’s somebody’s child.”
“He’s Elijah’s son,” Theo replied. “As you well know, since you’re close to him.”
“Elijah’s not the enemy. Just because he asked a few questions at the dinner last night, you’re going to kill his son?” Gavin shook his head in disgust.
“This has nothing to do with last night,” Cora said, lowering her blade.
Theo stepped toward her, then whispered into her ear. Her brow remained wrinkled in anger, but she nodded in acquiescence to his request.
With a gesture, Theo signaled for the boy to be tied up. “Break’s over. We leave in five minutes,” he said.
Uneaten food found its way int
o bellies or bags, and every one returned to their mounts. The presumed Green Cloak was loaded onto a maximute with one of Theo’s men.
Bel paid closer attention to Lithia as their caravan returned to the trail. Her silence, which had been welcome in the morning, seemed sinister now. Bel knew better than anyone what hatred for the Vens could do, the depths to which it could pull you down.
The more she thought about the Vens, the more she began to doubt what the Alliance said about them. Why hadn’t the Vens regrouped and attacked? Or fought to the last man? That was what she’d expected based on the Alliance literature. She wondered if shutting down the Vens’ communication had anything to do with their behavior. Next time she spoke to Zane, she’d ask him to look into it.
15. DIONE
When she got the message that Lithia and Bel were pursuing the Green Cloaks, Dione immediately composed a reply about how dangerous it was and how they should have stayed with the professor. Once she read it over, she deleted it. Her message had been so hypocritical even she had noticed. She had a better idea.
Dione: Since we’re both doing stupid, dangerous things, let’s just do check-ins. I’m alive. You?
Lithia: Alive. Sounds good.
Whenever they were worried, one could just ping the other. No need for explanations or apologies, just reassurance.
Dione pulled up the read and ignored messages from Oberon. She sent him a reassurance, too. His response was almost immediate.
Dione: Alive.
Oberon: Thank you.
Just those two words. Dione felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She should have replied sooner. Underneath all of the scolding, he was just worried.
“Dione?” Brian called. She had stopped in her tracks, allowing him to take the lead.
“Coming.” They were nearly at the stream. She could hear it gurgling loudly. “We need to be careful. Everything needs water to survive. We don’t know if we’ll be sharing the stream with anything.”
“Oh, is that how streams work?” Brian smiled, but Dione didn’t, leading to an awkward silence that lasted until they could see the water flowing in front of them.
Poison. That’s all Dione could think when she looked at the water.
“We need to boil it, but what if it contains some type of toxic compound from the nearby vegetation? We can’t trust anything on this island.”
“I think we don’t have to worry about that at least,” Brian replied, pointing to a small, furry creature drinking upstream.
In a moment, Dione had her stun rifle pointed at the beast, her whole body on alert.
“Relax,” Brian said. “It’s just a rabbit.”
“More like death rabbit. Remember that innocent-looking moss that nearly killed you?” Dione fired at the rabbit, but missed, scaring it away.
“You’ve saved us,” Brian said, rolling eyes.
“I’ll add it to the tally,” she replied, looking pointedly at him. “Let’s just get this water safe to drink so we can be on our way. Here.” She handed him the machete. “Get some larger pieces of firewood.”
Dione herself searched for smaller kindling. This part of the woods was full of tough little shrubs that seemed to shed dry leaves and twigs.
Once they’d accumulated enough fuel, Brian lit the fire. She had to admit when it came to things like that, Brian was an expert. She cleared a patch of ground nearby and took a seat. They’d have to boil the water in batches, as they only had one large metal container.
When they had filled all of their containers with water, Brian doused their small fire. “Thank you,” he said.
Dione raised her eyebrows at him, so he continued. “Thank you for saving me from the sundew. And the moss. And for coming here with me, even when you didn’t want to.”
She hesitated a moment before replying. “You’re welcome.”
“But more than that, I’m sorry. I know I really hurt your feelings, and you didn’t deserve that. I don’t like Lithia like that, so I didn’t see it as a big deal. It wasn’t like when I kissed you. That felt like something. I know it probably doesn’t make a difference to you, and that you’re mad at me for more than one good reason, but I meant it when I said you were special. I don’t expect another chance, but I want you to know that I care about you, Dione. More than I’ve cared about any girl before.”
Dione looked away, formulating her response. Several possibilities flew through her mind, some angry, some forgiving, but she still didn’t know where on the spectrum she had settled. Her heart and her head were not in agreement.
As she was searching for her reply, something on the tree she had been staring at caught her attention. She stood up. “It’s an arrow.”
“What?” Confused, Brian followed her gaze.
“An arrow, come on.” Dione was already off the ground and at the tree where the shape of an arrow had been carved into the trunk.
“My dad,” Brian said, reaching out and tracing the arrow. All of the gravity of his recent speech was replaced with something beyond excitement.
“Or the Farmer.”
“No, it’s my father. It has to be.”
Dione stumbled over one of the large roots and took a moment to try and identify the tree. The three deeply cut lobes of the leaf gave it the appearance of large, thick bird tracks. “It’s some kind of fig, I think.”
“Here’s another.” Brian approached the next fig tree a few meters away. “Pointing in the same direction.”
He was already on his way to the next tree when Dione said, “Hang on. We don’t know where they came from.”
“I know you have doubts,” he said, “but my father carved these arrows. I can’t give you any evidence, but looking at them, I can just tell they’re his.”
Intuition was something Lithia relied on with an uncanny amount of success. After a certain point, Dione had done some research into it. “Sometimes our intuition is just our brain putting together clues we’ve noticed subconsciously to reach a conclusion our conscious mind can’t,” Dione said.
She studied the arrow again. “Maybe there’s something about the type of tree he chose or the way the shape was cut that makes you recognize your father,” she conceded. “Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking. Either way, whoever carved these arrows was human, and even if it was Jameson, I think we should follow them. Maybe your father found them and followed them, too. Any direction is better than no direction at this point.”
Dione was not interested in wandering aimlessly in the wilderness. Even if it was the wrong direction, having an objective, a path to follow, comforted her. Her curiosity about the arrows outweighed her caution, though she didn’t think she was ready to face the dragons guarding the colonizer at the center of the island yet.
Only the fig trees had arrows, which made the next one easy to find. It was a clever way for the carver to make sure that their directions could be followed. They talked pleasantly as they walked, mostly about what StellAcademy was like, and in the conversational lulls, Dione thought back to what Brian had said next to the fire. She was glad to have more time to replay his words and dissect them. I care about you. Sometimes people really did make mistakes and deserve second chances, but Dione wasn’t sure if this was one of them.
Not too long after they’d begun their journey, the fresh, clean forest smell gained a dusty quality. It wasn’t a bad odor, but it wasn’t good either. The air smelled pungent and a little stale. After a few more minutes of walking, she barely noticed it anymore and figured they had walked past something decaying, or maybe some creature’s lair.
When Brian spoke next, though, his tone had changed. “Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?”
“Like we’re being watched.”
They continued along their path for several more minutes before a sense of foreboding grew in Dione. “Yes, I feel it.” The dense undergrowth on her left seemed to shift, but when she turned, she didn’t see anything. Another few minutes went by before she again noticed the shifting o
f the bushes on her left. “Did you see that?”
“I can’t tell what it is, but something is definitely following us,” Brian replied.
This happened a few more times until a thin patch in the undergrowth gave her eyes enough information for her brain to put it together. “It looks a bit like a dog.”
“I saw it, too. Not a maximute—too small—but it’s stalking us.”
The undergrowth shifted again. “They are stalking us.” She was certain there was more than one, based on the movements she had seen.
“Any ideas?” Brian asked, slowing his pace. “What are they waiting for?”
That was a good question. She thought back to her biology classes at StellAcademy. If these animals were doglike pack hunters, they might behave like wolves. “Don’t run,” she said. “We need to maintain our pace. Some animals that hunt in packs wait for their prey to run before attacking. Or to display a sign of weakness. If these things don’t think they can take one of us down, they might give up and leave us alone.”
“Do you think that’s likely?”
“We’re in Jameson’s twisted playground. I assume everything will try to kill us.”
“Right. Like the death rabbit.”
Dione readjusted the stun rifle so she’d be able to respond more quickly to a threat. Despite his jokes, Brian took her cue and kept his hand on the machete’s handle.
“I think we’ll just have to hope that we look too difficult to kill, and they move on to easier prey,” Dione said.
“Right.” They spent another few minutes in silence, following the trail.
Brian broke the silence. “There’s another fig tree up ahead.”
“Try not to stop as you check the direction.”
“I can see it from here. Keep going straight.”
Dione glanced at the tree herself, no longer carefully picking her way through the thick undergrowth. She tripped over one of the roots, coming down hard on her knees and bracing herself with one hand. She cried out as pain shot through her wrist. This was the moment the creatures had been waiting for. One lunged from the undergrowth, and the only thing Dione noticed was its teeth, long and sharp.