by Erica Rue
Dione should have been worried about access, but she had a strong feeling that Jameson’s hubris had taken over so that he hadn’t programmed some key or passcode, relying instead on his magnificent and terrible dragons to take care of anyone who ignored the warnings about this island and discovered the colonizer.
She and Brian walked around the front of the craft to the opposite side, where they saw a clearly marked door. A few dragons slept along their path, but they crept silently around them, never getting close enough to startle the beasts awake. Few creatures would be foolish enough to invade their space.
As Dione had suspected, the door opened with no resistance. It creaked loudly, and she heard the dragons stir behind them, but they were inside before she could tell if any had woken and seen them.
The lights automatically came on, along with life support. The ship used very little power in the absence of its crew, but Jameson must have programmed it to maintain certain settings. Dione was unimpressed with the cold metal and industrial feel of the passageways, but Brian was awed. Though they were presumably safe, they continued in silence, whispering when necessary.
“What’s it like to be here?” she asked.
“Well, on the one hand, this place pisses me off,” he said. “Everyone lied to us about this island. Jameson because he parked this colonizer here, Sam because she knew how dangerous it was. But my dad survived here for years. We could have handled this place. We could have used the materials on this ship. We needed a fabricator. This ship would have settled the question of the Farmer long ago. The Aratians would have admitted the truth.”
Dione sighed. She’d listened to her father and his friends complain about the steadfast ignorance of their political opponents too often to have that much faith in proof. “There will always be some who ignore the evidence in front of them. There’s no guarantee.”
“Yeah, but a massive space ship is gonna convince most people.”
“You might have a point there.”
They wandered a bit, opening doors and exploring the ship. This first section was huge. The first thing they noticed were all of the doors and branching hallways. They opened a few, and each revealed a tiny cabin that would have housed one of the original colonists that Jameson brought. A few contained personal effects, though most were bare.
“This level is just cabins, I think,” Dione said.
There were five levels in this segment, and they had to climb a few ladders in order to get to the main one. This housed a conference area and a few larger cabins, probably intended for senior crew. Again, there was a maze of hallways, but they stuck to one of the two central hallways until they found the bridge.
Though the controls were not as confusing as on a Ven ship, the interface was old. It was familiar but clunky to her, like when she tried to use one of the school computers that ran a weird operating system that only tech nerds like Zane knew how to navigate. Once she got the hang of it, though, she had access to all of the unrestricted systems. Thankfully, that was most of them.
“Looks like this segment is safe. The doors haven’t opened for decades, see?” she pointed to the display. “I assume that was Jameson’s last visit.”
“What about breaches?” Brian asked.
“None. Hull integrity in this segment is good. There are a few weak spots in the next segment and some weakening near where it joins to the final segment, but those won’t be an issue in atmosphere. The final segment is… compromised, to put it lightly. ”
“What’s that?” Brian asked.
There were some warning lights flashing on the screen.
“That’s the last segment. The hull has been breached, and there’s a fire.”
“That’s not good.”
“Could be worse. The sections of a colonizer were designed to detach. They can be piloted independently. We just need to hope that nothing vital is in that last section, and considering its size, we just might get lucky.”
“So we can detach the last section?” Brian said.
“I think so.”
“What about the fabricator? Is that in the last section?”
Dione did a little digging. This first segment was the primary one. It contained the bridge, cabins, and the jump drive. The final segment contained mining equipment and other gear. Jameson had probably had some grand plan for introducing more and more of that tech. The middle segment contained more cabins, the med bay, the mess hall, and Brian’s holy grail, the fabricator.
“It’s in the middle section.”
“Good.” Brian sighed in relief. “Let’s detach the dragon nest and get out of here.”
31. DIONE
The computer kept spitting back error messages.
Dione slammed a fist onto the console. “Come on! Can’t we catch one break?”
“It won’t detach, will it?”
“No, it won’t. I could separate this segment from the middle one, no problem, but the fabricator’s in the middle one. The middle segment won’t separate from the dragon-infested one.”
“Can we move the fabricator? How big is it?”
“Too big. The only way to bring it back is to take the whole middle section with us. The dragons must have done something to the separation mechanism, maybe damaged the wiring, fused the hull, I don’t know.”
Dione backed away from the console and sat in one of the many unoccupied chairs.
“Let me see,” Brian said.
He was a natural. Sure, colonizers were supposed to be idiot-proof since they were often filled with hopeful farmers and miners rather than experienced space-flight personnel, but those people would have received weeks, maybe even months, of training.
Brian had no training, but he dove right in. He’d been watching her closely, and he had an intuition with tech that she could never hope to learn. Dione pulled her legs up into the chair and rested her head against them, closing her eyes. She would let him figure it out.
Her mind was buzzing with the new discovery she’d made while in the ship’s systems. She’d checked the jump drive, and it worked. She could go home. They all could.
She sent a message to Lithia. On the colonizer. The jump drive works! We can go home!
Brian interrupted her thoughts. “I got it to run a diagnostic. The problem is fixable. It’s just some damaged or faulty wiring.”
Dione hopped out of her chair. “Great, I’ll message your dad.”
“Hang on,” he said. “There’s more. The bad news is that this can only be done from inside the last segment.”
Dione scoffed, but Brian’s expression remained earnest. “You can’t be serious. There’s no way we can pull that off,” she said.
“I don’t see another option.”
“It’s a pretty obvious one. Leave the fabricator here. There’s nothing wrong with the mechanism that detaches this segment from the middle one.”
For a split second, Dione thought about just detaching the first section, refusing to entertain any argument from him. It was what Lithia would have done.
“We need the fabricator,” he insisted.
“No, you don’t. This section is more than enough evidence of the colony’s origins. Plus, the jump drive works. We can go home and tell the galaxy about you. Once people know you’re out here, you’ll be able to buy and trade for what you need. You could even get a fabricator. I bet I could find a way to get you one for free. A grant or something. My dad could pull some strings. A week ago, you didn’t even believe this fabricator existed. Why is it so important now?”
“I thought no one would come out here. What about that Bubble you mentioned? Even assuming you’re right, how long will it take?”
Dione didn’t answer. Bureaucracy moved slowly, even she could admit that.
Brian continued. “I like this alliance with the Aratians. I like this peace. I like knowing that there’s another meal coming for my family and friends. This is our chance to convince them all, beyond a doubt, that the Farmer was a liar. We can repair the
ir tech. Even with Moira’s help, our land won’t be clean for years.”
There was so much uncertainty in his eyes. “I think I understand why it’s so important to you,” Dione said, “but this is way too risky. The dragons are defending their nest. You’ll have to walk right into it to pull this off. And we don’t know how long it will take you to fix it. Or if you even can. If anything happened to you—”
“You’re leaving me anyway! Why do you care?” Brian’s eyes flashed. “If I die, you can take this first segment and jump back home. Win-win.” He lowered his gaze back to the console.
Dione took a step back. “Is that really what you think? That I’m desperate to leave you behind? I don’t want to lose you.”
“I saw your message to Lithia. This ship will get you home.”
Couldn’t he see that this wasn’t about leaving him? It was about returning to the life she’d been ripped from. “I don’t want to leave you. But I. Don’t. Belong. Here.” She slammed her open palm on the console as she spoke those last words.
A long silence hung between them. Dione didn’t know what to say next. “Brian, please. It’s not personal. You get that, right?”
“I do.” He wouldn’t look at her.
She did not want to lose him, not to dragons, not by leaving Kepos. “Come with me.”
Instead of speaking, Brian closed the gap between them and cupped her face in one hand. He kissed her, pulling her close with the other hand on her waist. She wrapped her arms around him in response, crushing her body and lips to his, wishing there were a way to get closer.
When they finally parted, she was breathing heavily, reluctant to let go. The austere gray interior brought the reality of their mission crashing back.
“I don’t know if I can,” he said softly, kissing her forehead. “But I want to.”
Even that gentle kiss sent warmth tingling all through her body.
“Help me come up with a plan,” he said.
Dione took a few deep breaths to focus her thoughts on the problem. “You need access to the attachment mechanisms. Where, exactly?”
Brian pointed to the ship map. “Here.”
Dione studied the map alongside him. All of the segments were connected on the second level. There were two main corridors that ran parallel down the length of the ship on either side, and one segment separated from the next by a door that joined the corridors. The other levels within the first and middle segments were not connected.
“Okay, that’s near the starboard entrance.” Dione traced her finger along the starboard corridor. “If we follow this corridor down the whole ship, we’ll be able to use the starboard door that joins the middle and final segments.” She stopped and tapped the location on the map.
Brian frowned. “That’s the issue. The starboard door is malfunctioning, but the port door works.”
“If you go in through the port door, you’ll have to head into the last section until you reach this cut-through,” she said, pointing. “Here.”
Brian cocked his head. “That doesn’t look so bad.”
“That cut-through is one of the more open areas of the ship. You’ll be exposed.”
“Only if the dragons find me.”
“That’s the other thing. See this?” She motioned to a flashing red icon; he nodded. “It’s a fire indicator. There’s a fire burning in that room.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re in there. It could just be—”
“It has to be recent,” she said. “There’s not enough flammable material for a fire like that to burn unassisted.”
“You think the dragons have been bringing in sticks and logs, just like we saw them stoke their watch fire outside.”
“It would explain the fire. Maybe their eggs need to be warm,” she said.
“So, if they are in that cut-through, how do I get past them? What about the maintenance tunnels? I’ll need to use them to get to the attachment mechanisms anyway.”
“Those are a death trap. I’d spend as little time as possible down there. If you meet a dragon in those close quarters, you can’t run or maneuver away from them.”
“And meeting one in the cut-through or corridor will be better?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You can run there, maybe even close some doors to buy you time to escape.”
“If you say so. There’s the dragon song, too.”
“It won’t work on all of them.” After their last encounter with the dragons, she needed to be prepared to defend herself, even if that meant using lethal force.
“It might. If it was enough for Jameson, it will be enough for me.”
“We can’t count on it. Let me think,” Dione said, closing her eyes.
She was a dragon slayer. What did she need? Claws that could rip through their hides. Maybe they could find a sharper weapon. She lacked the strength necessary to wield that kind of weapon, though. Were there guns on board? A chemical weapon? Would the medical bay have anything?
She was a dragon slayer. She would need thick, protective skin. Fireproof, just like the dragon hides. Ship work could be dangerous. Emergency response gear? Work gear?
I am a dragon slayer. Dragons were fire. She would be ice. No, she would be the absence of fire. A fire extinguisher?
“Dione?” Brian asked.
She opened her eyes, mind filled with ideas and questions. They needed to do a little scavenging. “I am a dragon slayer. Follow me.”
32. CORA
The darkness suited Cora just fine. She was standing out in the field where her father had been killed, glad to be left alone. Unable to sleep, she had wandered out into the emptiness, a comfortable distance from the Marauder and the small camp that had sprung up around it. The grass rubbed against her ankles, making them itch, and a moon owl hooted in the forest.
The Vens were dead. The Green Cloaks were dead—at least, the ones who were at the farm, but that only lifted some of the weight from her shoulders. She knew there must be more, hiding among her people, and she had no clue how to find them or what to do about them.
They had blindly sided with the Vens because the Farmer hadn’t told them the truth, and instead of answers, they had received the same violence as every other inhabitant of Kepos. There were gaps in Jameson’s story that most people overlooked. Unpleasantness that people dealt with. That was life. The Green Cloaks had only been searching for truth, and that search had led them to do terrible things. She could almost understand their motivations. Could she bring herself to pardon them? Could her people forgive them? Should they? She didn’t know.
A pale glow lit the horizon. Dawn was coming, and it was nearly time to interrogate Asher. Without Gavin around, she was hopeful he might betray some of Elijah’s plan. The man was up to something. The more she thought about his words at the memorial dinner, the more uneasy she felt.
She took a deep breath and returned to the camp. In a few hours, they would return to the Vale Temple, once she knew what to do. The pictures, along with the knowledge that there were still Green Cloaks in her home, gave her plenty to consider.
Lithia had stumbled off to rest before she’d had a chance to thank her. As much as she wanted her cousin’s input right now, she would have to trust Theo.
He, along with the other Aratians, had set up a little ways from the Ficarans. He was having a few words with his men outside one of their tents. She was hardly surprised they were already awake. Duty and discipline were Aratian virtues.
“Has Asher told you anything, yet?” she asked. Before they returned home she wanted to know as much as possible about the Green Cloaks still in the town, and what Elijah was planning. Many of his actions didn’t make any sense to her. If he was against the Farmer, why was he so intent on keeping the Matching? Before she went back with the photographic evidence, she needed to anticipate how he and her other opponents might react.
“I wanted to wait for you,” Theo said.
“Thanks.”
The two entered the tent where Asher was
now asleep. Or pretending to be asleep. Theo woke him, and he made a big show of yawning.
“Time to go home?” he asked.
“Not quite,” Cora replied. “I have some questions for you.”
“I don’t have any answers for you,” Asher said. “Just take me home.”
For a second, Cora pitied him. She remembered his grief earlier that day, how, in a moment of anguish, he had confessed and given them more information than he had probably intended. “We need to know what your father is planning,” she said. “He’s the one leading the Green Cloaks, isn’t he?”
Asher just frowned at her.
“He’s the one who challenged me at the memorial dinner. He’s your father. No one remembers seeing him during the battle,” she explained.
“The battle was chaos. That’s hardly proof,” Asher replied.
“Here’s what I don’t understand. If he was so opposed to the Farmer and his teachings that he would sacrifice his friends and neighbors to the Vens, then why is he fighting me on the Matching? Wouldn’t he want to eliminate such a strict tradition that the Farmer established?”
Asher opened his mouth like he wanted to reply, but just as quickly stoppered it. “Why should I tell you anything?” he finally said. “What good will it do me? I’m just going to end up like them.”
Cora raised her eyebrows as she understood. “You think we’re going to kill you.”
He glared up at her, his face a dark mix of anger and pain.
“A day ago, that would have been true,” she admitted. “I wanted to kill every last Green Cloak left on Kepos. You all would have deserved it. You still deserve it. You murdered my father. You murdered our people. My people. You are guilty, and have earned death as a punishment.
“But yesterday, I saw what that revenge would look like, and I couldn’t stomach it. Maybe it means I’m weak, but after seeing those bodies, I realized that I want them to be the last.” Tears stung at her eyes, but she reined in her sorrow. “You will be punished. Your comrades will be punished. You will have to earn your place back in society, but we will find you a place.”