by Mary Weber
The rest of the kids were already squealing and running through the adjacent area when the small tunnel opened up onto a terrace hovering five stories above the capital’s buildings. A crystal-looking dome covered the entire place, sealing in a level of heat that bordered on suffocating, while giving a perfect 360-degree view of the sky above and the surrounding snowscape below. It was a terrarium in the midst of a cult compound, housing a living garden of glorious vegetation. Most of which were plant types Sofi had never seen. Purple vines, brown flora, and branches hanging off of multicolored trees.
It was both exquisite and a shade off. Again with the overly sharp atmosphere.
“Now that they have a distraction”—Ethos nodded toward the kids—“why don’t we proceed?” He indicated a silver-coiled table that held a spread of Earth foods. “Some water perhaps. Or the famed Earth tea Ambassador Miguel has made so popular here.”
“I’ll ask again—where’s Miguel?”
Ethos’s response was to pour a cup of tea and hand it to Sofi. She took it but didn’t drink. Just used it as something to hold between his face and hers as she sniffed and said, “Because you’re violating human rights by keeping us here.”
“Oh, come now, Girl-Sofi. It’s a matter of logic, really. For security reasons, until we have the information we need, we will be unable to release any of you. Even your corporate nations understand that.” Ethos took a sip of his tea and his cheeks did a weird glitching thing across his face. “So it’s really your decision.” He stopped. And blinked. “How were you able to hack into our space station’s security system? Particularly one as incredibly advanced as ours?”
Sofi shrugged. “Maybe you should make your system harder to hack.”
Ethos’s lips thinned. He pressed them together and ran his long fingers over the table’s smooth, silver surface. “You can see how dangerous it would be for my people in the future if someone outside was able to break into our system again. No, I’m sorry, we cannot have that.”
From behind her, Sofi heard a slight throat clearing.
“Thankfully,” Ethos added as if on cue, “one of your Earth companions had some rather helpful information.” He flicked an unblinking gaze at the opaque door to the left. And took a soft gulp of his still-steaming drink just as Earth’s Ambassador Alis and Sofi’s game tech, Heller, were brought in by guards.
Sofi’s cup fell from her fingers and hit the terrace floor with a sharp crash.
Heller? Her mouth went dry as she took in the face of the person who’d been her friend up until this morning.
“Hey, Sof.” Heller’s eyes and voice were more alive—more wildly colorful than normal. Just like his cheek piercing, which was a strobe-light stud, currently flashing as wild as usual.
She didn’t respond, didn’t move, didn’t do anything to acknowledge this person who’d plotted to help murder her brother.
Ethos stepped between them. “Boy-Heller here mentioned Ambassador Miguel solicited help in accessing our system to find the children. Using your friends, Ranger and Vic—both of whom have now been evicted from our systems. But it was your seeming understanding of our technology that enabled it. Who are the others who assisted that knowledge, please?”
Sofi refused to look at Danya.
“Ambassador Danya assisted as well,” Alis said.
Sofi hurled mental daggers at her.
Heller moved in. “Sofi, if you’d only listened—”
“You killed our team. Our friends, Heller.”
“I’m not a killer. I did what I was told. But if you’d let me, Sof, I would’ve been able to help and we could’ve gone home. Everything could’ve gone back to normal.”
“Nothing is normal,” Sofi spit out. “None of this—none of them. They are using you, Heller.” She swerved her gaze to Ethos.
“Yes, that’s it,” Ethos said in a smooth tone. “Let those emotions emerge, Sofi. Tell me how they lend to your mental acuity in regard to our technology. How do they help you access it?”
“Just like your mom used you and Shilo,” Heller said to Sofi. “Can’t you see how doing so is making the world a better place for—”
Sofi lunged at the tech kid’s throat. The air around them zapped, and suddenly Ethos was breaking between them as Heller made a desperate grab for her hand.
“Thank you, Boy-Heller, for the benefit of your reaction as well as Girl-Sofi’s. So very helpful. Peacekeepers? You may escort him away now.”
Sofi jerked away, but not before Heller had slipped a note inside her palm.
The peacekeepers moved for Heller and dragged him out while he yelled, “It wasn’t them or us, Sofi. It’s about all of us achieving survival.”
Ethos beckoned them to the curved window. “Come. See.”
The guards pushed them over, to peer below where the yellow fog was still settled far beneath, lurking like a misty ocean around the barrack buildings. The entire tiny city looked half submerged. What were they doing?
Thirty seconds went by before a movement on the ground floor, catty-corner to the window, caught her eye.
Even Alis gasped as suddenly the door at the base of the building slid up and Heller appeared. His short, dark hair and black slim-suit out of place against the yellow fog.
Sofi’s gut filled with horror. No. She’d hated Heller for what he’d done, but she didn’t wish this on him. She turned to react only to find more guards on either side of her.
Danya uttered a cry, and from Sofi’s peripheral she saw as Heller swerved around but was shoved farther into the icy world where he stumbled, then turned to shout. Too late. The fog surged over him and caused him to fall.
Through the mist Sofi watched in terror as he hit his knees first, then his stomach. And even from this far up, she could make out Heller’s body choking and shaking. And Sofi was shaking too. She wanted to scream—to rip into Ethos. But the guards stood over her like stone.
And then Heller just stopped moving.
Ethos turned to face her. “Now, Girl-Sofi, I’ve kindly been patient. But we really need the truth about how you broke into our system. And you will tell us plainly, or this will happen to every one of those children whom my men have just removed from this garden.”
12
MIGUEL
When planet delon arrived eleven years ago, it appeared as a beautiful, silvery globe in the sky, made up of wintry atmosphere and ice-tipped trees.
As a wild, dirt-bike-riding boy, Miguel had been awestruck. He excitedly raced home, wondering what it must be like to live and travel on this white ball of snow that Earth’s satellite cameras caught erupting from a wormhole in space.
“¿Qué haces?” his madre said as he grabbed a cold soda beneath her disapproving eye. “No sugar before dinner, Miguel!” But she’d let him keep it anyway as he popped it open and joined Padre and his siblings to watch the news screens along with every other human alive—staring wide-eyed as the planet slowly made its way across the sky to settle into orbit on the far side of the moon. They’d held their breath as the reporters showed all the Corporations rushing to contact the visitors with questions of whether they had, in fact, “come in peace.”
“Peace and generosity,” was the reply, and the world let out a collective sigh. Because for what little information humanity had on them—heck, at least this was hopeful. And for an eight-year-old dreamy-eyed, old-lady-neighbor-terrorizing kid, it was a promise. Of life bigger than he’d known.
Miguel stood in the dim room with the now-dark screen that Ethos was towering in front of in his signature silver robe that made him seem more like an insecure rock musician than the leader of a planet.
This was not the version of a bigger life Miguel had planned.
“All that glitters isn’t always good,” his padre had once said. The man would never know how right he was.
Ethos turned to him. “Clearly you understand that it is you who chose to come here against our laws. And with that in mind—”
“And yet you
and the Council bent those laws in allowing us to come with Sofi rather than turning our shuttle around,” Miguel interrupted quietly. “In that way, we are here at your allowance, Lord Ethos, and the fact we stumbled upon unsettling issues is a question upon your people’s honor, not ours. I imagine Earth will be just as concerned by what we have to say. Perhaps even more so if it comes to light that you seem to be claiming no knowledge or minimizing crimes going on beneath your very nose.”
If a Delonese could flush red, the ambassador would be flaming with the level of anger radiating. Even in the dull lighting, Miguel could see it clearly. Ethos practically sputtered, “As I said, the choice was made by you. We have more than enough right to detain you, as Earth well knows, considering you’ve brought a top-tier fugitive here. So, while I plan to do everything in my power to return you in the proper time . . .”
A wave of disgust rose up for Ethos, for Inola and Hart—for all of those people he’d seen on the monitor screen who’d been playing with the lives of the very kids he and Claudius had been hell-bent on saving and yet, so far, had never been able to rescue, no matter how much investigation they’d done.
He’d spent over a year searching out these kids—collecting their few memories to figure out their stories—to find what the Delonese were doing to them and what massive human-rights violations were taking place.
And here he’d watched Earth and Delon just have a freaking board meeting, discussing it like the kids were a product?
Images of Earth’s protestors bled into his mind. The signs they held up with pics of alien-human hybrids slashed through with blood. Suddenly those calls to violence against the Delonese didn’t seem so far-fetched.
“I do hope by the end of our conversation,” Ethos continued, “we will be able to smooth over that discovery and come to an . . . agreement. As allies. Just as we have always been.”
Miguel raised a brow. “Allies who abduct kids for their body parts? Forgive me, Lord Ethos, but you know me better than to think an agreement can be reached on that. Particularly when the evidence in the belly of Delon suggests you’re using them for far more than regeneration. One might even be inclined to suspect your sights are set much further than your own repopulation. Perhaps to domination.”
Ethos’s eyes narrowed and shot to the telescreen that held the stats written in the Delonese language. Then just as quickly relaxed, and the patronizing smile returned. “Yes, I can see how that must look. But let me assure you, you and I will come to an arrangement, one way or another.” He snapped his fingers, and two seconds later a door behind Miguel opened and Ambassador Claudius strode in.
Miguel caught Claudius’s discreet nod as his twenty-four-year-old, Euro-born friend offered his broadest grin beneath a platinum head of hair that contained so much gel, the peak at the front hadn’t even moved since yesterday. “Hey, cuate. Looks like we ride again, eh?” Claudius glanced at Miguel, then Ethos. Then stopped. And faced the Delonese full on. Two seconds later his face broke into a teasing expression of admiration. “Ethos, friend. That robe. You’re a dream in it.”
Miguel felt his muscles ease. He exhaled. Claudius could put on a show like nobody’s business, and that was a show if he ever saw one. Nice timing, friend.
The old alien’s robe rustled around his tall, thin frame. “Yes, thank you. I’m quite aware.” But his body stood a little taller.
“I’m thinking the silver cape could be all the rage for next season. What say you?” Claudius glanced at Miguel.
“Pardon my fashion distraction,” Ethos interjected, “but as you can see, I am privately here, without the eyes of the Council, to offer you, as Earth’s ambassadors, a final opportunity to restore relationship with us. Reaching a satisfying agreement will be necessary for everyone to move forward.”
That last part . . . Ethos’s words were too careful. Calculated. Almost mechanical.
Miguel stared at the alien’s facial features.
Having been the youngest Earth ambassador ever also meant having been the Delonese’s favorite ambassador ever—which had rendered Miguel a lot more time with them and reading their cues than just about anyone else.
And Ethos’s face . . .
There was something in the tightness of his lips. In the way he was breathing.
A flicker of recognition crossed Miguel’s mind. He peered closer and watched the Delonese’s expression.
Then lifted a brow and leaned back.
“Lord Ethos, considering your people retrieved the shuttle before it hit Earth’s radar, my assumption is you don’t want your operation discovered. Which suggests a surprising level of fear.”
The leader’s eyes cracked the slightest bit wider.
Ah.
“Ambassador Miguel, I find your—”
“Which leads one to believe one of two things. Either your people are terrified that, should your appalling actions be discovered by Earth, they’ll be forced into a war they’ve not had the manpower for—or they’re afraid of the consequences of said war. Namely, in order for Delon to win, it would have to use weapons on us. And in doing so, risk losing its easiest source of healthy test subjects.”
The Delonese lead ambassador stared at him. Then spun and left the room.
“Looks like someone’s been drinking the Kool-Aid,” Claudius said quietly. He glanced at Miguel. “You think the fear and flattery bought what we need?”
“I think we bought his pride for the moment.” Miguel turned and kept his voice low. “But where are the kids?”
“I couldn’t stop them. They took them from the shuttle. And . . . Miguel, they have Sofi.”
Claudius might just as well have taken a blade and sliced at Miguel’s soul. He absorbed the shock over what that meant, while giving a nod as his only external acknowledgment. Between Sofi and the kids—if he thought of them right now, he’d be useless. He needed to find a way to reach Earth. They needed a bigger threat on the table.
He strode over to both telescreens, which had shut off with Ethos’s exit. Miguel slipped his hand in front of them anyway. Nothing. Then touched the second one. The thing stayed blank.
“He’ll not let you live, you know,” a voice said from the shadows.
Miguel and Claudius both spun to find Ambassador Alis watching from a doorway she’d just slid through.
Claudius snorted. “And so she ascends from hell.”
“I made a deal.”
“Yes, that was pretty obvious in the whole betrayal of twenty children thing you did a few hours ago.” Claudius glared at her as the door closed and she strode to the window the metal shades were still covering.
“I get to resume my duties.” She turned and offered a hard smile. “I wonder what it would take for you to do the same.”
Miguel frowned at her. His nerves were buzzing. Raw. As if something bigger than this moment was off. And it wasn’t just the conversation. It was the look and smell and atmosphere. It was that one telescreen and the warehouses of bodies.
It was the air swishing around his feet that was forming into a fog.
“What the—?” Claudius jumped toward Miguel as the creamy cloud engulfed the floor.
Alis’s expression was just as startled. She lunged for the door but Miguel was already there, hitting the scanner, aware his guards were gone as well. Nothing happened. He pressed it again. “Move!”
Alis tried, with the same result—and it didn’t matter anyway because that fog was already rising and swirling and entering their throats.
13
INOLA
A flicker of unease hit Inola.
She flipped around to see Corp 24’s vice president, Zain, standing in the afternoon shadows cast by the CEOs’ FanFight tent. “Strange not seeing them here, eh?” He tipped his head down one level where the Delonese’s empty, private cabana sat in view, just above the gamer rooms that overlooked the arena—where each team’s techs manipulated the virtual components. “The Delonese, I mean. Not my dead players and yours.”
<
br /> She stayed still, not taking her gaze from him as he moseyed toward her, one hand in his pocket, the other smoothing his brown hair flat, while staying close enough to the cabana to stay out of direct public eye.
“In fact, I believe this is the first round our friendly ice visitors have missed in the past three years.”
“What do you want?” she murmured.
“Same as you, I suspect.” He stopped beside her. “The truth.”
She laughed softly. “And who’s to say I don’t have it?”
He turned and pierced her with his eyes. “Oh, I think you do. Mostly.”
Inola raised a brow and assessed him. The man was smarter than she’d given him credit for. “In that case, you should know speaking with me in public is a dangerous idea. For both of us. People will assume we’re doing business. So I’d prefer if you—”
“Is it?” He smiled. “Seems to me business deals are being discussed all the time. Take your VP Gaines and Corp 13’s CEO Hart, for instance.”
She didn’t have to look to know they were still deep in conversation. She could sense it—just like she could sense one of the players below was about to be eliminated based on the gasps and yells of the crowd. “Yes, but they’ve not had a player actually blow up the FanFights, nor a daughter accused of instigating it.”
He shrugged. “True. Although the way I see it, it would make sense that two responsible, heartbroken leaders such as ourselves would be discussing our concerns. Especially when we both know we had nothing to do with the bombing.”
A scream ripped through the air as one of the players in the arena earned elimination by what sounded to be a lion attack. Inola didn’t look.
VP Zain turned away from it. “You know what I find interesting? How Corp 13’s player is down there but your kids are not.”
Inola kept her expression blank. What is he getting at? What does he want? She glanced at her watch. “Forgive me if I’m not following, but I’m actually running late. Perhaps—”
A second scream rang out, and the coliseum’s crowd was immediately on their feet. Inola and Zain both swerved to look—and were in time to see a few of the players already starting in on the second portion of the round. Except one of them was being shredded by a howler. The thing was leaning over him about to absorb his life when the beast suddenly disintegrated into the nanobots it was created from. But not before the boy’s blood was staining the ground and the med hovers were heading in to rescue him before he bled out.