Eclipse the Skies

by Maura Milan

  Angie raised her eyebrows.

  It’s okay, he mouthed, and Angie slowly lowered her arm, the orange charge of the nozzle tip now pointing to the pavement.

  Goner smirked. “Good choice.”

  Then he raised his hand in a lazy farewell. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  The colors of his armor had started to shift to match his surroundings, and soon the outline of his body was a haze, as if between one world and the next. “Oh yeah. This rescuing thing…Let’s keep this between us.” Goner raised a finger to his lips, and soon there was nothing left of him at all.

  CHAPTER 21

  BRINN

  BRINN GAZED through the front glass of Einn’s ship, the observation window so wide that it displayed the landscape below alight in flames. The largest city in the Olympus Commonwealth was completely decimated, and she was fine with that. Let the whole place burn. There was nothing left for her there anyway.

  She thought about her brother. Faren always knew the right thing to do. He stood up for himself way before she ever did. She heard him always, his laugh, the bravery in his voice when he told her he was marching in protest. But now he was gone, and all that was left were those memories.

  Liam stood beside her. The violent light of the city fires curved upon his dark brown skin, but his eyes reflected the bright expanse of the sky above.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were looking for him?” Brinn asked.

  His gaze snapped over to hers. “When Ia has been training you to fight him? I didn’t think you’d be interested, but Einn convinced me otherwise. Believe me when I say I’m surprised you’re even here.”

  “I can say the same for you. The best flyer in our year, model Citizen with a father and brothers who’ve served in the war.”

  “A paralyzed father and three dead brothers. We’ve all lost someone in this mess.”

  Ia had tried so hard to protect her, to teach her how to defend herself. How foolish she was, Brinn realized. Ia didn’t know that there were things that hurt more than blades and fists. Pain. Sadness. No one could ever protect you from that.

  “Those people were taken from us.” Brinn placed her hand on the glass, her palm giant against the city below, like a god swatting down a fly.

  “But they’re not going to take you. That’s why you’re here,” Einn said from the pilot seat. He turned on autopilot and crossed over to her, his eyes glinting like silver. “You know what I’ve learned from surviving for so long? The universe rarely gives you a gift. But you have one now. A new path. You’ve taken the first step. It’s not over yet.”

  A new path. Those words rang loud and bright in her ears.

  Brinn looked back at Einn. She felt strength in his presence. It was something intangible that couldn’t be forced or created; it just existed. He was so different from Ia. Where Ia was rough and loud, Einn was quiet, his eyes always attentive, watching her movements, sensitive to any shifts in the conversation. As if he listened. As if he understood.

  She pointed to the crumbling buildings and the downed battleships, with flames reaching up to the sky. This was all because of Einn. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. “And you, where does your path lead?” she asked him. “I’ve seen what you can do. All of that down there, is this really what you want?”

  “Just like you, these are only my first steps. To create, you have to destroy.”

  Her eyes shined in the face of the orange sun. She didn’t look away as the heat burned her cheeks. “Perhaps you’re right.”

  CHAPTER 22

  KNIVES

  KNIVES RUSHED into the emergency medical department, the lobby overflowing with survivors from the day’s attack. It was the closest medical facility in the area, located almost ten kilometers from the city center. Even so, it wasn’t fully functional. Two-thirds of the building had been destroyed by the fire spreading throughout the city. The winds were strong that day, which gave the flames the ability to jump.

  Knives tried to locate a free hoverbed, but they were all claimed by the wounded that had already trickled in. This event had taken many victims, and judging by the state of the people here, it would take many more.

  He turned to see Angie already dragging a med facility administrator over to their corner. The man had curly auburn hair that had lost its spring, and his eyes were slow from fatigue. But when he looked down at Ia, he backed away without hesitation.

  “Where are you going?” Angie asked.

  The admin paused. “I know who that is.”

  “We just need a med borg. That’s all,” Knives pleaded. Angie stepped in. “My dad is Vojas Everett, one of the most influential members of the Council. You will give this girl medical attention.”

  The admin looked her over and shook his head. “My uncle died during one of her hijackings. There’s no way I’m letting a borg give her medical assistance.”

  “I can handle this one.” A woman’s low voice came from the other end of the hall. “I believe half of these med borgs legally belong to the Star Force anyway.” Knives looked over to see Meneva Patel walking toward them. Her usually impeccable updo was now in a state of mess, but she still stood tall and confident as she flashed her credentials to the admin, whose face had grown red with anger.

  “Do what you want,” he said and then left.

  Professor Patel stared him down until he disappeared around the corner, and then turned back to face them.

  “Meneva,” Knives said.

  Professor Patel gave him a tiny smile as if to say she was happy that he was still alive and breathing, then shifted her attention to the girl in his arms. “What happened to her?”

  Knives shook his head. “I can’t say. I wasn’t there when it happened.”

  Meneva rolled up the sleeves of her long, white lab coat. “Let’s get her into one of the examination rooms.”

  The lights were too bright, but Knives found himself looking at them. If he glanced down, he’d see that Ia was entirely broken. The initial X-rays had shown several injured ribs, a severely cracked femur bone, and spinal compression and slight fractures to several of her vertebrae. If the damage had been worse, she’d have been permanently paralyzed.

  After a quick operation to drain the fluid within her skull, they placed her in a cryo capsule to reduce the swelling. Thank Deus, Knives had come when he did. Professor Patel told him if it was five minutes later, Ia would have suffered irreversible brain damage.

  They removed the modifications installed on her left eye—since the inflammation was pressing against it and could create permanent damage to her vision—as well as all of her other modifications and tech so they didn’t get in the way of her body’s recovery.

  Once that was done, they treated Ia’s spine, which had suffered the most damage. They placed her in an environmentally controlled pod made of tempered glass so it was easy to see her. Knives watched the entire procedure. He stayed planted in the same spot, never leaving her side, even though Meneva insisted it would distract her from monitoring the treatment.

  Ia’s body lay on a plastic platform. Above her, surgical arms were poised for their duties, but at the moment, they hung there on pause. Because everything that needed to be done was on the other side of Ia’s body. A large hole had been carved out of the middle of platform, exposing the flesh along Ia’s spine. If he looked closely, Knives could see the tiny surgibots, with their long, spidery legs, climbing around, operating on her. Precise cuts were made, exposing the bone, but the incisions were smothered in a gel that created an environment to keep the flesh from incurring any further trauma. The bots swam around through the goop, performing the exact repairs needed in order to make Ia whole again.

  Two days passed, and Ia’s treatment continued, the bots constantly readjusting the bone and reconstruction as the swelling went down, using electronic surges to stimulate nerve regeneration. They were making progress, Professor Patel had assured Knives, but every hour that passed, Ia looked the same. Frozen in
place. In a world between the living and the dead. If something happened, if that capsule was opened or damaged, it would be enough to send her off, for her body to crash back to the place where he’d found her. Broken. Severed. Almost gone.

  The door opened behind him, and Angie Everett walked into the room with a bag of fresh oranges in hand. “Is she awake?”

  Knives rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “No.”

  She held out the oranges to him. They were a ripe batch, imported from Targary. He could tell by the hue of the skin, slightly reddish at the navel. He had been craving them ever since he had gotten back to Rigel Kentaurus, but now he didn’t have the appetite.

  “How’s it going out there?” he asked Angie.

  She pulled up a chair, picked out an orange, and started to peel it. “The death count is at six thousand and growing as they clear away the debris. It’s still a mess, sir.”

  She finished peeling the orange and handed him a wedge. He ate it, to be polite. He knew what it should taste like. A tart but sweet flavor, cool on his tongue. It should energize him like the sun that grew it, that encouraged the crimson to blossom on its dimpled rind. But right now, it was flavorless on his tongue.

  He looked toward the windows, but the electronic shutters were drawn closed. He had programmed them that way after the first day when the fires raged throughout the night. Even with them down, he couldn’t get any sleep.

  “Are the fires out?” he asked.

  “All the major ones are under control. There are a few here and there, but there’s no more danger of them spreading. It’s clear enough for people to get outside on the streets.”

  He knew what she meant. He heard them. People were gathering. Rioting. Marching. Looting. The public was angry.

  “There are rumors going around that Einn is leading the Fringe Alliance.”

  Knives shook his head. “Einn has other allies,” he said, remembering the Sino Corp logo painted on the tech of that battleship. But he didn’t bring it up, not when he wasn’t sure. Einn’s people could have stolen it.

  “Even if it’s not true, everyone’s going after the refugees. They think they’re all a part of it.” Angie rolled her eyes. “Say goodbye to the Sanctuary Act. My dad says there’s no hope anymore. Might as well call it dead in the water.”

  Beside him, Knives’s holowatch buzzed lightly against a plastic surface. He had taken it off the first day. The messages were coming nonstop, flooding in ever since the day of the attack. He knew who they were all from.

  “Do you want to get that?” Angie asked.

  Knives swiped his father’s message away from his lock screen. “It’s fine.”

  Angie leaned over Ia’s capsule. “She’ll be waking up in a brand-new world,” she said.

  Knives leaned back in his chair, his eyes resting on Ia’s face. “If she even wakes up at all.”

  Knives had drifted off to sleep. Finally. He’d felt the weight of everything pressing down on him so hard that he had no other choice. He didn’t dream. It was just black.

  “Wake up.” An abrupt voice sliced through the dark abyss. His eyes opened, vision blurry, the light from Ia’s capsule blinding him as his pupils adjusted.

  Across the room, Professor Patel tossed his brown bomber jacket at him.

  “General Adams is on his way,” Meneva said. “He knows Ia is here.”

  Which meant he knew that Knives was there as well.

  “I can go down and walk him to this room, or I can stall,” Meneva continued. “What do you want me to do?”

  Once he was back with the Star Force, they’d court-martial him for abandoning his squadron. That was certain. But most likely, his father would step in. The general would order him to report back to base, where he’d be sifted into another squadron and probably would be dispatched immediately. He wouldn’t get to see Ia when she woke up. Hell, once he was on another squadron, he might be dead before then.

  He stood up, quickly threading his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, minding the wrap around his wrist. His injury hadn’t completely healed, but it was good enough.

  He looked over at Ia, who lay still within the closed environment of her capsule. “Is she well enough to travel?”

  Professor Patel nodded. “You have about fifteen minutes before he gets here.”

  Meneva tapped on the display at the head of the capsule. The unit hissed as the top half lifted. The sterile scent of UV rushed at him.

  He grabbed a blanket from his chair and draped it over Ia’s body. He placed one arm under her knees and another around her shoulders as he scooped her up.

  “The gel sealants on her wounds will hold for a few more days.” Professor Patel placed one of the surgi-bots in his chest pocket. “She’ll need to be stitched up once you settle somewhere.” Then she reached into one of the pockets of her lab coat and pulled out an amber bottle. “And you’re going to need this. Just a few drops on her tongue so the bio-bots can get into her bloodstream. She’ll be in a lot of pain, but don’t go overboard, or her body will become too dependent on it. Do you understand?”

  She looked him straight in the eye, and he nodded.

  “Good.” Meneva slipped the bottle into his chest pocket, where it settled on top of the depowered surgi-bot. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

  “I know a place,” he said. It would be a gamble, but it was something.

  He moved toward the door, but before he left, he turned back. “Thank you, Meneva.”

  She nodded with a tight smile, and then he passed through the doorway.

  “Wait,” she called out, running into the hallway after him. “Your holowatch.”

  “I don’t need it.” He knew that the Star Force could track his location if he brought it with him.

  “Good luck, Knives,” she said. It was the first time she had ever said his first name. All it took was the world to end for them to actually become friends.

  With Ia in his arms, he ran.

  CHAPTER 23

  BRINN

  EINN’S SHIP, Shepherd, flew for days before Brinn noticed them slowing to a stop. She glanced out the window at their destination, a chunk of rock floating dangerously close to a gigantic black hole.

  She stared into the swirl of matter in the black hole’s center. “That doesn’t look like a wise place to anchor.”

  “That’s Aokonic,” Liam said. “The flyers learned about it in class. It’s the largest black hole in the known territories, and it’s still growing.”

  Brinn recognized the name. Aokonic was located right at the edge of the Commonwealth territories. There was strategy behind Einn’s decision to place his headquarters at that exact corner of space, she realized. So she took back what she had previously said. It was the perfect place to anchor. No one, not even the Royal Star Force, would dare to venture close to it.

  She was so far from home. Her thoughts went to her parents. She had to hope that they were safe, even if she hadn’t heard from them since the attack on Calvinal.

  To forget her worries, Brinn turned her attention to the structures built all around the planetoid’s cragged crust. The chunk of rock wasn’t just a dead planetoid. It was an actual colony, and Einn’s headquarters. She’d expected a mishmash of old space stations welded together. A rust bucket of scrapped parts jigsawed into a somewhat functional amalgamation. But what she saw was a self-sustainable space station with enough advanced tech to rival those in the Olympus Commonwealth. There was no way that all of this was stolen. Einn must have aligned himself with some powerful backers.

  She glanced over at Einn, wondering about the shadows in his history. He caught her gaze and then gestured to the sight before them.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Einn said.

  “This is your headquarters?” she asked.

  “No.” His features softened, his sharp brow for the first time appearing less severe. “I call it home.”

  And she remembered the way Ia used to talk about her brother wh
en she and Brinn first met. No matter how far Ia had drifted, Einn was the anchor who would always pull her back. To where? Here? This same place Brinn was looking at right now? How strange that she was the one seeing it in Ia’s stead.

  But it was Ia who had made that choice. To fight her brother like that and die. To never see this home again. Faren was the same. He’d decided to go to that protest despite the risks. And now they were gone.

  Everyone made decisions that hurt her. Now Brinn had made her own selfish choice. This was the only way she could ignore the holes that were eating through her heart.

  A new path. That was what Einn had said. The Star Force was no longer her destiny, but as she looked up, Brinn saw something that could possibly take its place. A massive structure that stilled the breath in her lungs. At first glance, it looked like an intergalactic gate, but larger than any of the ones she had seen, which wasn’t many since space travel was expensive and heavily regulated by the Olympus Commonwealth. This grand circular structure was large enough to fit a whole planet in its center. Work vessels had been deployed, crawling all over to repair the damage it had withstood. She had gathered that this was on the other side of that wormhole that tore open the skies of Calvinal.

  “We call it Penance,” Einn said as he marveled at it.

  There was something about it that gave Brinn a strange sense of déjà vu. As if she had seen this exact thing before. She dug through the pit of memories, trying to piece it together.

  “This was Bastian’s work,” she said, her breath fogging the glass on the window that separated her from the structure before her. She had seen it so many times, drawn in the pages of his journal while she worked through equations at the other side of his desk. She never asked what it was because she thought a structure like that could never actually be built. But here it was, staring back at her, a goliath brought to life.

  This was what had created the wormhole to Calvinal without a receiving gate, which in itself was a marvel of engineering. But it wasn’t all this structure could do. She knew from her work with Bastian that more was possible.