by Brenda Poppy
Burn sighed quietly, bracing herself for yet another call to arms, which was Hale’s first recourse in almost any situation.
“I have recently gathered some disquieting intel that, when paired with Burn’s recent experiences, paints a grim picture for the future of Kasis. According to my informants, factories on the edge of the city have been steadily increasing their production of weapons components.” He looked around, ensuring all eyes were on him for his next declaration. “The Peace Force is arming itself for war.”
Murmurs danced across the room as people took in his words. Kasis wasn’t close enough to any other planet for all-out warfare. If it had been, the military would have already sent out their troops to conquer more land in hopes of sending their “undesirables” off-planet. No, if the Peace Force was preparing for war, it would be against its own citizens.
Hale raised a hand for silence. “You know what we need to do. We need to attack first. We need to infiltrate the factories, arm ourselves, and destroy the rest of the ammunitions. With the weapons in our hands we would finally have an advantage.”
Burn couldn’t stop herself. Standing up, she bit back, “We don’t even know what they’re planning. Shouldn’t we learn as much as we can before blindly attacking? The armories are heavily guarded, highly fortified. Going in blind could decimate us.”
Hearing whispered affirmations from the crowd, she continued, emboldened. “Besides, we don’t have an army.” Burn gestured at the handful of shopkeepers, tradespeople, and professionals around her. “Even if we were armed, the Peace Force would still have the advantage – in both numbers and tactical skills. And you know they would take any act of sabotage against their armories as high treason, putting the entire city on lockdown and killing anyone they saw fit, Lunaria or not. You wouldn’t just be putting us in danger. You’d be putting all of Kasis at risk.” More murmurs of assent from the crowd.
Before she even knew what she was saying, she continued, “I can find out what they’re planning. Just give me time to listen in, to discover why the Peace Force is arming themselves. Then we can determine if an attack is even necessary.”
Hale stared at her, wrath in his eyes. “Of course you would stand with them,” he spat out. “They’re coming for us. Why can’t you see that? This is the only way we’ll stand a chance.”
“We can’t protect the city if we’re already dead.” They stared at each other, the world dimming until it was just them, one against the other.
A new voice broke through the commotion, shaking Burn out of her stupor. “It’s clear we have to do something,” said Symphandra, coming to stand between Burn and Hale. “But it doesn’t have to be one or the other. Burn’s right that we need more information before we act. But, like Hale says, we do need to act.”
Both Hale and Burn looked at her warily, unsure of where she was going.
Symphandra continued, unabated. “I say we give B time to discover their plans. Meanwhile, Hale returns to his contacts to get any additional information he can. We reconvene back here in three days to review the intel and plan a course of action.”
“And if they make a move in the meantime?” Hale asked gruffly.
“We act,” Symphandra said simply. Hale smirked. “Everyone in favor?” she asked. Hands shot up around the room, clearly favoring her compromise. “Then it’s settled. Three days.”
She turned to Burn, lowering her voice. “Good luck,” she said sincerely before returning to her seat.
Burn stood there, lost in thought and unable to reply. Three days. She had three days to discover an entire secret plot and come up with a way to foil it that didn’t include mass casualties. She would need more than luck on this one.
Chapter 8
Burn paced down the hall for the hundredth time, going over her options. Or, to be more precise, her option. She’d been racking her brain for the better part of an hour but could only think of one way she could get the information she needed.
She had to go down to the station. She really didn’t want to do that.
If only she could use blackmail to find out what they were planning. But she had nothing of that magnitude to leverage. If an officer were found to have tipped off someone to a plan like this, they would die, as would their family, friends, and possibly even their entire squad. General Cross made an example of traitors. Even with the best blackmail, no one would risk it.
So she would have to go to the source – literally. If she got within the Peace Station walls, she could listen in to conversations throughout the building. It was her best chance to overhear something of value.
The only problem was Cross. He wasn’t exactly her biggest fan. If he saw her lurking around, there was no telling what he would do. The thought made Burn grimace.
But it was up to her. The Lunaria were depending on her. Cross be damned. If she got the information they needed, it would all be worth it in the end.
Buoyed by that thought, Burn grabbed her cloak and set off, throwing a quick farewell to Scar as she shot out the door. This was going to work, she told herself. She’d learn what they were planning, figure out a clever way to stop it, and avoid any bloodshed. It was all going to be fine.
By the time she arrived at the station, she’d nearly convinced herself. But the imposing structure, paired with the swarms of officers flowing in and out, put a dent in her confidence. She was on their turf now, and if anything went wrong she would be at their mercy.
She’d been coming to the station since she was a child, but somehow it still managed to amaze her. Polished white floors connected to double-height walls with arched ceilings, evoking the feel of a chapel rather than a prison. The space was lit with hundreds of incandescent lights, banishing the dim haze and replacing it with pristine radiance. The sudden brightness made Burn blink.
It was all a façade, of course, with beauty and light masking the true darkness within. It was the palace where Peace Officers played while Kasis burned. It was a lie. And she’d come to expose the truth.
But first, she needed an excuse to be there. Standing in the entry, she’d already gotten occasional looks from passing officers. She couldn’t afford to be conspicuous, so she moved further into the building, stationing herself at the end of a short queue.
In no time, she was at the front. She didn’t recognize the officer behind the desk, but he was young and green, likely a new recruit forced to serve his time here before graduating to actual duty. Without glancing up, the man repeated the same line he’d presented to each previous citizen. “Please state your full name and your reason for coming here today.”
“Auburn Alendra. I’m here to talk to Detective Grayland.” The boy looked up, paying a bit more attention. Her name had struck a chord – hopefully because of her father and not because she’d been added to some sort of watch list.
“What’s this regarding?” he asked, skeptical. It wasn’t typical for commoners to walk in and demand a chat. “If it’s a police matter, we have paperwork you can fill out...” his voice trailed off.
“No, nothing like that,” Burn said, smiling sweetly. “He’s an old friend of the family. In fact, he worked with my father, Arvense Alendra. You may have heard of him.”
The boy nodded. Burn noticed that he kept glancing to her lips – and other parts of her – as she talked. She could work with that.
Burn inched closer to the desk, leaning in as she spoke. “I wanted to stop by and talk to him, to thank him for helping me out the other day.” She placed her hand on top of his on the counter, then looked into his eyes, making hers as wide and sincere as possible. “It would mean so much to me to see him.”
The boy swallowed, then stammered that he’d be more than happy to assist. He indicated a bench along the wall and told her that if she’d care to wait, it would be his pleasure to personally find Grayland.
Burn took a seat. She felt guilty for manipulating the boy’s emotions and hoped he wouldn’t face any repercussions for leaving his post. But the soo
ner she got the information she’d come for, the sooner she could leave – and the less chance she’d have of running into Cross.
She scanned the lobby yet again to make sure he wasn’t in the vicinity. Once she was sure of his absence, she closed her eyes and sharpened her hearing, searching for a clue. The building was abuzz with activity, each conversation merging with the next to create a constant hum. She focused in closer, scanning each group as she went. Typing, laughing, crying. Reports of pickpockets. Cracking down on ManniK dealers. Gossip about some opulent Peace Force party.
Nothing about ammunition or weapons or rebels. Nothing she could take back to the Lunaria. She needed to go deeper. This was merely the gateway, where the public and low-ranking officers mingled. What she needed was to get behind enemy lines, into the belly of the beast.
As if on cue, the eager officer returned with Grayland trailing in his wake. The detective smiled when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but return it.
“Back so soon, Burn?” he asked lightheartedly.
“I couldn’t stay away.” They chuckled with the ease of old friends.
Noticing the officer was still stationed at his side, Grayland turned. “You can go now, Officer Straad.”
The boy nodded and turned to leave but couldn’t resist another glance back at Burn, nearly colliding with another officer before finding his way safely back behind his desk.
“What did you do to that poor boy, Burn?” Grayland asked, his voice low and friendly.
She looked up at him, feigning innocence. “I have no idea what you mean.”
He shook his head, not believing her for a second. “Don’t go making trouble, Burn. I won’t always be here to help you get out of it.” He took a deep breath, changing the subject. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Do you think we could talk in your office?” she asked plainly. “It’s just so loud out here.” It was the truth, after all, although it wasn’t exactly silence she was seeking.
Grayland didn’t question her. Gesturing for her to follow, he snaked through the maze of desks and people until they reached a door at the end of the room. He pressed his thumb to the pad to grant them access to the inner sanctum. Weaving through yet more halls and doors, they inched closer and closer to the heart of the building.
Reaching Grayland’s office, Burn situating herself in the low chair across from his desk. But instead of sitting behind it, Grayland perched on the corner, looking at her expectantly.
“I wanted to thank you for helping me out yesterday,” Burn said truthfully. “My dad would have been grateful. It’s the kind of thing he would have done.”
“I was glad to help. You didn’t belong down there,” he replied gently. “But you didn’t need to come to my office to tell me that.”
“I know,” Burn sighed. “I actually need one more small favor,” she said, looking up at him sheepishly.
“Ahh, of course,” he said, nodding. “Now we’re getting somewhere. And what else do you need from me?”
“Well, I’m not sure if you heard, but our whole street had a routine search yesterday.” Grayland shook his head. “They took my tab. There wasn’t anything on it. Well, nothing important. Just…personal.” If you could call a fake encrypted shopping list personal.
“I was hoping you could check on it? See if they’re done processing it yet? It would be nice to have it back.”
Grayland nodded knowingly. “You’d be surprised how often this happens. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you,” Burn said sincerely. His willingness to help her yet again, even with something so trivial, was a testament to his character.
Grayland nodded and departed, leaving Burn alone. This was her chance. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her. Office chatter, typing, papers being pushed around. Not what she needed.
She shifted her attention to another part of the building, alighting on a spirited conversation. Apparently they’d recently brought in a dozen more dangerous “freaks” and stashed them in the cells. Interesting, but unhelpful. She scanned some more before another conversation piqued her interest.
“Did you hear they sent out a team to the Saffron Quarter?” said a male voice conspiratorially. Without waiting for a reply he continued, “Apparently some guy’s gone insane. Started smashing anything he could find. Even took out a patrol officer who tried to stop him. Flung him across the street and into a wall.”
Burn heard an intake of breath before another male voice replied, “Tough break, man. I bet it’s more of that damn tainted ManniK that’s been hitting the streets. The same thing happened last week. The cases are ramping up.”
Again, interesting but not what Burn was searching for. She was getting frustrated and knew she only had a few minutes before Grayland returned. She took a deep breath, centering herself, and went deeper into the building.
Then she heard it – a familiar sneering voice that instantly made her blood boil: Illex Cross. Bingo, she thought, smiling.
“That’s not enough,” Cross said, low and insistent. “When the time comes, we’ll need more officers on site.”
“But sir,” a smaller voice broke in, “we don’t have enough protective gear. It won’t be safe.”
“As long as we have the weapons, we’ll be fine,” Cross cut back. “Just hand out the gear to the higher officers. The rest are disposable.”
“What then?” the little voice asked. “What’s the plan when we get there?”
This was it. Burn shut out all other stimuli, immersing herself in their words.
“When the men are assembled in the streets,” Cross said casually, as if he’d gone over this a hundred times, “we’re going to…”
But Cross’ words were abruptly cut off by a third voice. “Sir, I’m glad I found you. Do you have a minute?”
No! Burn had been so close. Maybe Cross would send the man away and they’d pick up where they'd left off. Maybe the conversation could still be salvaged. But fate was not on her side.
“What do you want, Officer…?” Cross spat, searching for the man’s name.
“It’s Officer Petala, sir. Kaz Petala.”
Chapter 9
Burn froze, her head swimming. Kaz. The same Kaz whose house she had broken into. The same Kaz who had saved her from the Peace Force. He was one of them.
She had no doubt it was the same Kaz. The deep voice matched that of the man who had so gently taken her leg and dressed her wound. She listened with rapt attention as he continued.
“It’s the prisoners, sir,” he said. “A few of them are acting very strangely.”
“How so?” Cross said flatly, with no hint of curiosity in his voice.
But once again, Burn wasn’t destined to discover the answer. The door to the office suddenly swung open, startling Burn back to the present. She tried to slow down her pounding heart as Grayland entered.
“Well, Burn, I’m sad to say that I can’t help you.”
Burn stared at him, lost. She’d been so wrapped up in the conversation with Cross and Kaz that she’d momentarily forgotten why she was there in the first place.
Grayland continued, not seeming to notice her confusion. “Apparently your tab has been misplaced. No one in evidence seems to know where it went. It’s simply vanished.”
Right, her tab. She was there to see about getting her tab back. She put on a disappointed face, hoping Grayland couldn’t see past it to the turmoil within. Why did she even care that Kaz was on the Peace Force? He wasn’t anything to her. Just a stranger she’d passed in the night.
But then it hit her. If he saw her there and asked around about her, he could easily learn about the tail that Cross had on her the night before. He’d figure out that she hadn’t been where she was supposed to be. He could piece it together. The chase, the blood, the body. He could turn her in. She needed to get out of there.
“Well, thank you for checking. I’m s
ure it will turn up.” Burn didn’t even know what she was saying. She got up and moved toward the door, hoping Grayland would take it as a sign to show her out.
He seemed surprised at her sudden change of tone, but merely replied, “I’ll let you know if we find it.”
He opened the door and led her back out into the hall. Burn’s concentration was shattered, and she could no longer locate Kaz or Cross in the building. She kept checking over her shoulder, expecting to see them appear behind her at any second.
Grayland guided her back the way they had come, the journey seeming to take 10 times longer than it had on the way in. Finally they reached the building’s lobby.
“Say hi to Scar for me, will you?” asked Grayland.
Burn assured him she would and promised to keep in touch. With that, he left her and she turned to leave, relief peeking through the stress of the last few minutes. But she wasn’t out of the woods yet.
“Well, well, well,” said a cold voice behind her. “Who do we have here?” Burn stopped, not daring to turn around. Or speak. She merely stood there like a statue, her eyes trained on the exit.
Cross walked around her languidly, coming to stand between her and the doors as if blocking her escape. “Auburn Alendra. Back already?”
Shock and panic still fought in Burn’s mind, making her feel stupid and slow. She knew she had to say something, but no words came to mind.
“I’m just here to see an old friend,” she eventually managed to say, her voice tight and clipped. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” She started to walk around him but stopped when a large hand latched onto her arm.
Cross’ warm mouth dropped to her ear, whispering, “You have no friends here. Remember that.” With that, he dropped her arm and sauntered off into the bowels of the station. Burn stood still, locked to the spot.