by Sara King
Go home. Die. Scream and start shooting.
Because Magali couldn’t pick one, she just stared off at her ragtag army again. They followed her with the fervent devotion of people who had no idea she was ten times more scared and unsure of herself than they were. They saw her as nothing but a symbol to get behind, and it totally terrified and pissed her off.
Today, the pendulum was swinging towards pissed off.
“Jersey,” Magali said evenly, “let go of my hand.”
The Nephyr dropped it quickly and got back to his feet. Clearing his throat, he said, “Mag, we’ve gotta do something. They’re losing confidence.”
“You think?!” Magali snapped, scowling out at the camp. “They’ve locked everything down! Silver City, Rath, Boomberg… Cut off energy shipments from the Orbital—we’re gonna run out of fuel, and we’ve got nothing else we can do except sit here, waiting for them to find us.”
“We need another successful attack,” Jersey insisted. “We need the publicity. We’ve gotta take another Yolk factory, or maybe liberate Silver City or Glassburg or Rath—”
“Rath?” Magali demanded, finally looking at him. “Do you have any idea how many robots are guarding Rath? There are four altrameter muskers in Rath.”
“True,” Jersey said quickly, “but they sent the Nephyrs to guard the remaining Yolk mines. It gives us an opening.”
“What opening?” Magali snapped. “They’ve got like, what, thirty Pods of Bouncers? Three dozen operators? It’s not exactly like they left Rath undefended, Jersey.” She’d spent the last two days mulling over that fact, agonizing over every detail, always coming up with the same answer.
Rath, to her ragtag ‘army,’ was totally unassailable, even without the Nephyrs. Now that the easy wins were over, her army was already falling apart—two ships had left the previous night, stealing a good portion of their supplies as they went. “All they’ve gotta do is wait us out, and they know it.”
“No,” Jersey growled, grabbing her hand again. “We’re going to finish this. They killed my family, Mag.”
Magali laughed. “Okay then. Tell me. How are we gonna take on that kind of air superiority to even get into Rath? What are we gonna do…shoot soldiers outta the sky? There’re only two pilots I know even remotely capable of doing that, and one’s a total scumbag trying to convince Jeanne Ivory to let him live, and the other fries electronics whenever she gets near them.”
Jersey hesitated.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Magali just shook her head. “I’ll go down there and tell them I’m giving up.”
“The fuck you will.”
The voice was deep and gravelly, and made both Magali and Jersey turn.
Patrick’s twin brother, Milar Whitecliff, came striding up to them with an expression of grim purpose on his face, some hunk of mechanics slung over his shoulder. Behind him trailed a gangly kid who appeared to be talking to himself. Jersey immediately moved between them, blocking Milar’s path.
“Cupcake,” Milar said, not even bothering to look at the Nephyr, his body utterly rigid, “if you don’t get out of my way so I can talk to Mag, I’m going to put your nuts through your spleen.”
Jersey didn’t move. Glancing over his shoulder at Magali, he said, “You know this guy?”
“That’s Patrick’s brother,” Magali said. “Let him through.”
Flinching, Jersey stepped aside.
“What’s up, Milar?” Magali asked, tired.
“Mag,” Milar said evenly, “why do you have a fucking Nephyr following you around like an overstuffed lapdog?”
“His name’s Jer—”
“Prick doesn’t need to know my name,” Jersey said quickly. Much too quickly. Magali frowned at him. Jersey was looking decidedly anxious. He met her eyes and gave a quick head-shake.
But Milar caught it, too, and his eyes narrowed. He glared at the Nephyr a moment longer, then slapped down what looked like the black metal arm of a spider on the makeshift card table in front of her. Instead of fingers, it had an odd oval at the end of its arm. “That,” Milar said, “is off one of the invisible Aashaanti guard bots patrolling the North Tear, keeping out intruders.” He swung around to give the Nephyr a malicious look. “Slices through Nephyr skin like butter.”
Magali just stared blankly down at the alien-looking machine. “What?”
“It’s Aashaanti tech,” Milar said, “and we’re gonna use it to get my brother back.”
“It’s pretty sweet,” the kid behind Milar said. “Watch this.” He set a battery down on the table in front of them and carefully touched two wires to specific places inside the robot arm. Immediately, the metal of the arm turned white and the oval ‘hand’ started to crackle in an electric black that seemed to eat the light. A second later, it disappeared, and at the same time sliced through the table and fell to the ground, where it started to slice through that, too.
“Holy shit!” Jersey cried, taking a quick step backwards. “What is that?”
Ignoring the Nephyr, Milar said, “These things have a defense perimeter that will keep out all comers.”
“Yeah,” the kid with him said, pulling the conduits away, powering down the robot arm once more. “It’ll shoot down ships, too. That’s why everybody keeps going missing in the North Tear. These things are killing them.”
Magali, who had likewise stepped away from the vanishing alien robot arm, swallowed. “Aside from Joel’s ship, I’ve never heard of any functioning Aashaanti tech. Not even the Void Rings are Aashaanti—Anna says they’re older.”
“There’s more where this came from,” Milar said. “And we’re going to set our base of operations down right in the middle of it.”
Magali tore her eyes up from the creepy black robot arm. “We are?”
“I know someone who can get us in,” Milar said, casting the Nephyr a suspicious look before returning his attention to Magali, “and you’re going to use it to take down Rath.”
“Rath.” Magali scoffed, unable to hide her wave of despair. “Milar, we can’t take Rath. There’s only a few thousand of us. They’ve got dozens of soldiers and Nephyrs and infantry—”
Milar grabbed her and yanked her towards him, until they were eye-to-eye. “They have my brother,” he said, his voice glacial, “and you’re going to help me kill them all.”
Magali shoved him away from her before Jersey could intervene. “Why me?” she demanded, getting angry, now. “Why does everyone want me to fight?”
“Because Patrick still loves you,” Milar growled. “Anna and I broke you two up, and we shouldn’t have. You and I are going to get my brother back, and then you’re gonna do with him what you were planning to all along.”
“There’s no hope for your brother,” Jersey offered softly.
“Mag,” Milar said evenly, “if that glittering cupcake opens his mouth again, I’m going to shut it permanently.”
Realizing he was utterly serious, Magali glanced at Jersey. “Could you give us a few minutes?” she suggested.
Jersey gave Milar a nervous look, then nodded and left.
“We’re rescuing him,” Milar said, once the Nephyr was gone. “We’ve got working Aashaanti tech. Cloaking devices. Blades. I’m not asking you to lead. I’m going. I’m offering to let you come. I will get him out of there.”
Magali found herself taking strength in Milar’s confidence. Of anyone, when Milar said he was going to rescue someone, Magali believed it.
“Now,” Milar gritted, “where’s your little twit of a sister? She’s going to help, or I’m going to put a bullet between her eyes.”
Magali felt another spike of hurt drive itself into her heart. “I let a robot take her. Back in the Yolk mine. She’s being tortured with Patrick.”
“Your little sister,” Milar said darkly, “never got taken anywhere. She’s still on Fortune, doing science experiments in Rath.”
Magali frowned. “What?”
Milar didn’t bother to elaborate. “A
sk her yourself what she did to Tatiana,” Milar growled. “I tell it to you here, I’m gonna need to shoot something.”
Magali froze, her heart giving a sudden hammer. “You found Tatiana Eyre? The cyborg you’ve been dreaming about?”
“And then your sister immediately gave her brain surgery,” Milar said. “Remember that node Patrick kept drawing? Yeah. She’s got it now.” His big hands tightened into fists.
“Oh God,” Magali whispered, remembering Patrick’s dozens of sketches. “Aanaho, I’m so sorry.”
“Just send out a wave to the usual suspects. The little gremlin is alive, and she’s going to help us if she wants me to refrain from hunting her down and executing her like she deserves.”
“I say kill her anyway,” the kid with Milar said. There was absolutely no humor in his single brown eye. “I’ll help with the rest.”
Looking the kid over, Magali noted his profusion of scars and one cloudy eye and suddenly, recognition hit her in a wave. “You’re FlameOn.”
The kid shrugged.
“She made you put the wrong catalyst into a Yolk synthesization experiment because she wanted to see it explode,” Magali whispered, horror still clawing at her heart, guilt at yet another atrocity her own sister had wrought upon another human being. “She told me about it after she did it. Laughed the whole time. Thought it would be funny to give you a reason to have the moniker.”
The kid’s brown eye darkened. “Anna will eventually get what’s coming to her.” He held out his scar-puckered hand. “Steffen Hayes.”
She shook it. “Magali Landborn.”
“We need to take Rath, Mag,” Milar insisted. “I took what they dished out for a full three months, but I’d be surprised if Patty can go three days. We’ve gotta get him out of there before they do something permanent.”
Magali swallowed, realizing that Milar obviously hadn’t been watching the news. She glanced at Steffen, who, by the grimace on his face, most likely had. “They burned his skin, Miles,” she confessed. “They didn’t want a repeat of what happened with you. As soon as they got him inside Rath, they skinned him and burned it. He’s got nothing to put back on.”
Milar froze. For long minutes, he said nothing at all. Then, very quietly, he said, “I’m gonna salt every single Nephyr on the planet and leave them to dehydrate in the sun.”
Magali’s eyes reflexively found Jersey, who had been her rock this last week. He was amicably examining a smuggler’s weapon, talking with the owner about how to properly care for it.
“What’s his name?” Milar barked, following her gaze.
“Jersey Brackett,” Magali said.
Immediately, Milar went totally, completely still. After a moment, he gritted, “Born on Fortune? Drafted when he was sixteen?”
Magali frowned. “Yeah, how’d you kno—”
Without another word, Milar picked up the heavy alien robot arm, walked down to where the Nephyr was conversing with the smuggler, and, as Jersey was looking up with curiosity, hit the man as hard as he could in the face with the heavy black metal. “Checkmate!” he snapped, kicking him the rest of the way over. “Backstabbing coaler shit.” Then he shouted up at Magali, “Call your sister! Have her take a look at this.” He threw the robot arm back up the hill at her. “I’ll be on the mountain with Tatiana, waiting to hear from you. I don’t hear from you in two days, I’m getting him out on my own.” Then, as the Nephyr was still trying to scramble to his feet, Milar stalked off, the teenager trailing behind him.
“Milar!” Magali cried. He didn’t even turn. When he was out of earshot, she went down to offer a hand to Jersey, who was nursing a bloody nose. “What the hell was that about?”
Jersey gave Milar’s back a sorrowful look as the rebel boarded Liberty with the teenager in tow. “Ancient history.”
When he didn’t seem interested in elaborating, Magali glanced at their ship. “Can that thing do a universal wave?”
“Sure,” Jersey said, frowning. “But anything you say over it will be heard by everyone within range.”
“Good,” Magali said. “I need to put out a call to my sister.”
A day and a half after Milar’s visit, Anna answered her summons in a stolen Coalition ship piloted by a nondescript man who nodded respectfully when Magali and Jersey greeted them at the loading ramp with grenades and powered-up rifles.
Anna had hesitated upon seeing the Nephyr, but after briefly consulting with her friend, had walked down the ramp anyway. All around them, Fortuners were standing around watching with mixed expressions of awe and trepidation—everyone had heard of Anna Landborn, but few had the dubious pleasure of seeing her in person.
“Well, if it isn’t my backstabbing sister, all grown up and taking over Fortune,” Anna said, clapping her hands together. As Magali stiffened, Anna glanced at the dozens of curious onlookers. “Got someplace private to do this?”
“The flagship,” Magali said. “We’ve got a table set up in the galley.”
“‘Flagship.’” Anna scoffed derisively, but started up the hill, not even bothering to ask which ship was the one in question. The man with her followed close behind, scanning their surroundings with the unmistakable focus of a bodyguard.
She’s gone two weeks and she comes back with a ship and a bodyguard. Caught somewhere between fury and trepidation, Magali followed her, Jersey sticking even closer than usual.
As Anna and her friend were sitting down at the table inside the ship, however, Jersey nudged Magali aside and said, “That guy’s a robot. He’s laced with metal and hydraulics.”
“Don’t forget the top-secret government weaponry and Triton-level processing capabilities,” Anna said cheerfully. To Jersey, she said, “Hello. I hear you’re fucking my sister.”
Jersey froze and looked at Anna like a startled starlope.
“Not fucking her, then.” Anna seemed to find that surprising. “Huh.”
“Anna,” Magali gritted, “they’ve got Patrick.”
“Yeah, I heard.” Anna plucked a sweetpod from the bowl and idly dropped it into her mouth. Chewing, she cocked her head. “So?”
“They’re killing him!” Magali snapped, slamming her fist to the table in rage.
Anna waved that off dismissively. “He was the dumber twin, anyway.”
On an irrational wave of fury, Magali lunged across the table at her sister, only to be caught by the big man beside her, his grip like iron around her shoulder, stopping her like a brick wall before she even got halfway across the table. An instant later, Jersey had his hand on the robot’s throat, preparing to rip its head off.
“Call it off,” Jersey growled, eyes on the robot’s calm face. “Or your pet’s dead.”
Anna just giggled. “Yeah, I’d like to see that.” She tossed another sweetpod into her mouth and chewed it, grinning as she watched the three-way showdown as if it were the most entertaining thing she’d seen all week.
“I’d appreciate it if we can keep this meeting relatively peaceful,” the robot said. “I disdain violence.” He hadn’t removed his hand from Magali’s shoulder.
Jersey narrowed his eyes. “Anna, you’ve got two seconds to call it off.”
Anna just grinned wider. “Show him, Dobie.”
“I’d rather not injure him, if I can avoid it,” the robot responded.
That made Anna frown. “I said show him.”
The robot sighed…then, in a move too fast to see, shoved Jersey hard enough to send him toppling into the far side of the room, taking an entire wall of metal ship cupboards and racks with him and denting the internal support structure.
“As you can see,” the robot said, as Jersey extracted himself from the debris, “I am not interested in hurting Magali—just keeping her from hurting her sister.” Indeed, while the hand preventing her from reaching Anna was like iron, it hadn’t inflicted even a modicum of pain.
“But he will,” Anna added, as Jersey came back to his feet with a dark look, “if you don’t sit down, sh
ut up, and tell us why you broadcasted my codename all over Fortune and had me leave some very important projects to fly down here.”
Magali pulled back and gestured for Jersey to sit down. “We need to take Rath,” Magali said. “It’s the only way we’ll take control of Fortune.”
“You mean Milar came whining to you about his brother and now you wanna go rescue him,” Anna countered.
Seeing her totally unsympathetic face, Magali had the sudden urge to put a bullet through it. “We had something to show you,” she gritted. “But if you’re just gonna be a shit, you might as well leave now.”
“Me?” Anna demanded, her brown eyes cold. “You’re the one who handed me over to the Coalition. You didn’t even fight when they came to take me away.”
“From what I heard,” Jersey said, leaning across the table with the sound of glass sliding on metal, “you needed a wakeup call.”
“Oh, I got one,” Anna said, giving them a mirthless smile, “but it’s probably not the one you were hoping for.”
“Look,” Magali said. “Milar found some tech. Alien tech. We think we might be able to use it to take Rath.”
Anna perked up a bit. “You got it with you?”
Magali went to the crushed cabinets, pulled the robotic arm from the wreckage, and dropped it onto the table in front of her. “That came off one of the alien robots guarding the North Tear,” she said. “Jersey and I went up there with Milar and checked it out while we were waiting for you. Aashaanti robots have a huge defense barrier set up. There’s a trick to getting past it. Milar thinks we could use them to protect us from a ground attack.”
Anna’s eyes were locked on the black metal arm. “That was working?”
“Yeah,” Magali said. “And there’s a lot of others. They slice right through Nephyr skin, so we could use the North Tear as a base.”
“On what power source?” Anna demanded.
“Still can’t figure that out,” Jersey said. “But we were able to rig it for electricity.”
Anna rolled her eyes. “Of course you were. Any ham-fisted idiot can modify Aashaanti tech to work crudely with electricity. I’m trying to figure out what they used so I can advance the human race.” She snorted. “Philistine.” Sniffing, she examined the arm carefully. “So what are they protecting?”