Embers in the Sea

by Jennifer M. Eaton

  A square appeared in the bottom left quarter of David’s window. A violescent face appeared. Deep, turquoise eyes blinked twice and darkened to the same shade as the dim, mottled spot on the corner of the alien’s shoulder. The tense set of David’s posture told me the man was Sabbotaruo—the commander of the Erescopian fleet, and David’s father.

  The edges of Sabbotaruo’s bridgeless nose flared. Erescopian words echoed throughout the cabin, but I heard English in my mind. “Surrender the ship, Tirran. Enter through our forty-fifth sector and wait to be boarded.”

  “Father, listen to me.” Again, the words David spoke were his own language, but somehow my brain translated. How was this even possible?

  “I have no time for childish games. Comply. Immediately.”

  “I will not. I have found the secret to make it rain. I can bring life to Mars.”

  “So you have said before.”

  “But I can do it this time. You need to trust me. We need to remain allied with the humans. We’ll need their help.”

  “We will not need their help if we have their planet.”

  “This isn’t right. You have to stop this.”

  “The decision has been made. We must do what the Caretakers have deemed necessary to save our race.”

  “Why can’t you trust me? I’m not an idiot!”

  Sabbotaruo moved closer to the screen. “You have been a continual cause for embarrassment. The Caretakers have been gracious enough to let me hold my title despite your recurrent ineptitude. They will not accept more failure. Land that pilfered ship. Now.”

  “I won’t let the humans die. It’s wrong. Coud never would have agreed.”

  I flinched. Coud was David’s mother’s name.

  His father’s irises swirled, the colors separating before coming together again. “For the first time in my life, I am glad she is dead. It saves her the agony of knowing she wasted her youth raising the likes of you.” A grimace skewed his thin lips. “I renounce you of her name. And mine.” He waved his hand beside his face, and the communication faded back to the stars.

  A jolt of agony flooded through David. A pain so deep I nearly slipped from my chair.

  Four orbs dropped around us. Thomp. Thomp. Thomp. Thomp. The sounds drowned into one, continuous throttle of excruciating drums riddling the sides of our ship.

  The walls baulked. Jittered.

  A stream of mottled feelings ricocheted back and forth between us, rattling our tether, strengthening the bond in one wave, weakening us in the next.

  I reached over and grabbed David’s wrist. “Don’t let him get to you. You’re strong. You’ve made the right choice. Don’t let him beat you.”

  Strong. Strong. Strong. I didn’t know if silently repeating the word would help, but Sabbotaruo’s rebuttal had sliced though David. I needed to get through to him somehow.

  David blinked, his eyes staring at nothing. Anger simmered deep in my chest. I glanced out the window at the largest ship shifting behind the others in the distance. Why’d his father have to be such a dick?

  The walls flashed yellow. David didn’t respond.

  “Edgar,” I cried to the ceiling. “David can’t answer!”

  Dammit, I hoped there wasn’t something he needed David to do.

  I stood and grabbed David’s cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. He can’t take away your name. He can’t take away who you are.”

  David shuddered. “Yes, he can.”

  “No. He can’t. The only one who can take away who you are is you. You decide who you are. No one else.”

  His gaze finally met mine. “I have no name. You don’t understand.”

  “Then take mine.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “My father said he’d be proud to call you his son. Hey, Martinez isn’t all that bad a name.”

  He closed his eyes. His lips trembled. Unfortunately, the ship trembled more.

  “It’s a good name. A strong name,” he said.

  “You bet your ass it is. And Martinezes don’t give up. Ever. So I need you to pull yourself together, soldier, and high tail it out of here before your good-for-nothing father blows us out of the stars.”

  His eyes popped open and focused on me. “You’ve been so mad, I wasn’t sure about us anymore. You really want to give me your name?”

  Dammit! This wasn’t the time to have a heart to heart about our relationship. “Okay, I was mad. I’m not anymore. Everything is fine. You, me, the connection thing, it’s all great.”

  His eyes quaked. “Taking your name, it’s permanent. You understand that, right?”

  A boom rattled through the floor. Was he even aware of the ships shooting at us?

  “Yeah, fine. Good. We’ll sign the freaking adoption papers tomorrow. Whatever. Let’s just get the hell out of here!”

  Another shot flared across our windows. David glanced at the glass, unaffected by the attacking orbs. “Edgar, I need about four minutes. Keep us moving.”

  The ship jerked left, then right. The orbs still managed to hit us. What was he doing?

  “David, we really need to go.”

  The sense of loss scooted over our bond, a hole longing to be filled.

  He reached for me. “I need you.”

  “I’m here. I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’re really sure?”

  Three more ships throttled towards us. “Yes, dammit, come on!”

  He grabbed both my hands and looked deep into my eyes. No, through my eyes. My psyche locked, toiled, fought, and then opened, bearing myself to him. Everything that I was splayed out before David in an onslaught of my most cherished memories and my most embarrassing secrets … everything, anything, and more. Until there was nothing but me, naked with tears running down my cheeks.

  My energy seemed to drain out my toes. “Wh-what just … ”

  He kissed my forehead. “Shh. It’s done,” he whispered.

  “Done?” What was done?

  His gaze darted to the flashing walls. “I’m here, Edgar.”

  Edgar? Oh, yeah. Ship. War. End of the world.

  I stumbled to my chair. The room rolled and warbled.

  “You all right?” David asked.

  Stars. Pretty.

  “Jess?”

  My sight cleared. I pointed at David’s window and I screamed as a dark opal dive-bombed us.

  “Got it.” He sank his hands into the controls. The walls continued to flash as Edgar communicated via the lights. “You don’t need me to tell you to reinforce the hull. Just do it!”

  We whisked away from the attacking opals, but four more appeared in front of us. The area between our ships blurred as they discharged their weapons. David maneuvered us down, missing their fire.

  My stomach churned. I ran my hands across my wrinkled tee-shirt and jeans. I wasn’t naked. Maybe I never had been. But he’d seen much deeper into me than what my clothing hid.

  “They’re crowding us,” David yelled to the walls. “They know they’re no match for us if we get into the open.”

  Open. Exactly. I’d been opened. Cracked, split, and put on display. I should have been angry, but all I could feel was pleased. Whole, but then again, not so whole. Lost. Empty. The spinning orbs and the flashing weapons fire crept into the background. A dull, meaningless hum.

  The air around me quivered, and the chair beneath me bubbled to life. I shrieked as it seized me, until the room cleared of the fuzzy haze, and the battle outside came to a crisp, clear focus.

  A thousand of them. One of us. Not. Good.

  27

  We spiraled, cascading toward one of the liquescent opals. The ship backed off, only to be replaced by another. I blinked twice. How long had I been dazed, and what happened?

  A flash of light skidded across our windows, just missing us. “Don’t we have any weapons?”

  “Of course we do. But I’m not shooting at my own people.”
<
br />   They sure didn’t have a problem shooting at us.

  A small space opened between two ships on my lower right.

  “David!”

  “I see it.” He waved his hands, plowing straight past another orb that tried to block our escape.

  Clear, bright stars opened up around us. David breathed a sigh of relief and a smile burst across his lips. My restraints loosened.

  “Don’t you think they’ll follow?”

  He shook his head. “My father may be many things, but he’s not a fool. They can’t catch this ship in the open, and I’m not his priority. Earth is.”

  Okay, well, that didn’t make me feel better. “Shouldn’t we go back and distract them some more, then?”

  “We rattled them pretty bad. We gained Earth a few hours.”

  A few hours? That wasn’t much. “How long will it take to get to Mars?”

  He frowned. “Almost a day.”

  A small white square formed on the screen. The box expanded, showing a small red and blue marble in the distance.

  My stomach sank. “And how long does it take to scourge a planet?”

  His lips formed a straight line as he stared into the console.

  “David?”

  He turned to the wall beside him and tapped the small shining panel. “I need to check on our guests.”

  I spun to the window, painfully aware that he hadn’t answered me.

  Our guests … a bunch of pilgrims on a big, shiny liquidic Mayflower. But their new world may come in the wake of the Earth’s destruction. What if all this was for nothing?

  “Don’t think that,” David said. “This will work. It has to work.”

  Clear droplets gathered in the air between us, flinging from unknown places in the ship and gathering into a solid tube that shimmered and pinched until Maggie’s perky curls and brilliant smile beamed back at me.

  “It has become easier to breathe,” Ruby said through Maggie’s lips.

  David plopped back into his chair. “I regulated the pressure. I’ll be able to keep a better eye on you now that no one is trying to kill us.”

  “We sensed a great deal of fear. We were concerned.”

  “We’re fine for now. The next stop is a clean, clear, beautiful blue ocean.”

  Ruby smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

  A frothy spiral appeared beside Ruby, forming shiny gray arms that elevated of their own accord before Silver materialized behind them. “Is it truthful to tell our friends there is nothing to fear?”

  Other than traveling to a planet where they might not be able to survive in a stolen ship where a bunch of aliens will probably try to blow us up? Nope, nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

  David smirked at me before returning his gaze to our passengers. “There is always the concern about the new environment, but I’m going to slowly change the chemical make-up of the seawater in your alcove to match the oceans on Mars. It should help to relieve some of the shock.”

  They nodded, and Silver splashed to the floor. The dampness dissipated and disappeared.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked Ruby.

  “He’s healing quickly. He still has some pain, but his wounds have closed over.”

  I shifted my weight. “I’m happy for you.” And I was. It was very romantic, running away together to another planet. What a sacrifice.

  She smiled at me and then David. “I hope I can be as happy for the two of you one day.”

  Her image split into thousands of sparking droplets that hovered for a split second, catching bright prismatic light, before falling to the floor and seeping through the tiles. The girl certainly knew how to make an exit.

  David tapped on the panel beside the console. Erescopian symbols streamed across the screen.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “I’m contacting Nematali Carash on Mars.”

  I smiled. Nematali had stood beside David two years ago as he begged the Caretakers to spare Earth, and fought at our sides when one of those Caretakers almost broke the treaty. Out of all of David’s people, I trusted her the most. After David, of course.

  “We’re going to need ionic particle stabilization in the Martian ocean. That will help create the pressure we’ll need to keep our friends alive until they sink into the correct depth.” David rubbed the back of his neck as the characters continued to flow across the screen. “I’ve devised a way to start the chain reaction using the secondary propulsion engines on our ship.”

  “Perfect!”

  “Almost. Stabilization will take time. Time we don’t have.” He tapped the screen. “There are three of these ships in existence. If Nematali can get to one of the other two prototypes, she can use my directions to start the reaction before we get there.” He turned toward me. “We also need a food source for these creatures or they’re going to starve on Mars. Falen Nematali studies the biology of alien species. I’m hoping he can help come up with something.”

  I shivered, remembering Nematali’s mate and the examination from hell. ‘Scientific curiosity,’ he’d said, pocketing a stolen tissue sample. My pelvis still stung when I thought about it.

  David glanced at me and then back to the console. “Sorry that happened. I can’t condone his methods, but he’s one of our best.” He tapped a blinking light. “I’m sending them the data. We’re going to need all the help we get.”

  I nodded. Even if Falen was an ass, it would be nice to get some help for a change, rather than dodging people trying to kill us all the time.

  The characters faded from the screen as David stood. “There’s not much more we can do until we enter Mars’s atmosphere. We should probably get some rest.”

  The floor behind us rose into a coffin-like rectangle. The creamy liquescence swirled and kneaded like waves lapping a beach, before solidifying into a deep, gray recliner-like chair.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t splurge on a couch?” I reached for his hand. “I’ll rest if you do. Sit with me.”

  He smiled, a slight blue tinge touching his cheek. “I need to tell Edgar we’re going to relax a little.”

  The chair widened as I approached, then deepened long enough to lie on. I sat on the edge, but the cushion barely budged. Extra firm for my first nap in space.

  David slid beside me and propped himself up on an elbow.

  I laid back slowly. It had all the comfort of cuddling up on a hardwood floor. “Is there any way to make it softer?”

  The cushion shifted beneath me and I sank nearly a foot deep into the fluff. Piles of soft squish covered me nearly to my nose.

  “Too soft! Too soft!”

  I clambered back up beside him, the fibers below solidifying into a much more manageable, cushiony softness.

  David hadn’t moved a muscle. He barely fought his chuckle.

  “You did that on purpose.”

  “Maybe.”

  I brushed my cheek against his. The quick intake of air that skidded through his lips sent a shiver across my skin. I’d forgotten how stimulating that simple gesture could be.

  Still trembling, I leaned away. “Before, when you kissed my forehead, you said it was done. What did you mean by that?”

  He smiled and traced his thumb across my bottom lip. “My bond to you is now the strongest tie possible between two people.”

  But when he had looked into my eyes, through my eyes … “You know everything about me now, don’t you?”

  David nodded. “And you’re even more perfect than I thought.”

  My cheeks heated. “Perfect? You’re just saying that.”

  “I’m not.” He cupped my cheek. “All those dark places, all of your hurt—everything in your life has made you who you are. What I saw was incredible. You are so much more than you know.”

  I slid my palm across his cheek. “So are you.”

  “I wasn’t, but I am now—now that I can draw on your strength.” He glanced to the side be
fore his gaze skated back to me. “We could finish it now, if you want, so you can draw on my strength.”

  “Don’t I already? I mean, sometimes I can feel you.”

  He nodded. “That’s a result of our initial connection, but it can be more like … ” He stared at the couch. “I can’t find a human word. Sharing, I suppose is the closest concept. Deep, perpetual sharing.”

  “And you did that by looking inside me?”

  “That’s the beginning. Sharing is a commitment to the other. You should always know what you’re getting into before cementing a bond.” He twiddled his fingers. “I can guide you, if you’d like to see inside me, first.”

  All I ever wanted was to know what was going on in that head of his. Could I really see everything, like he’d done to me? I shuddered. Did I really want to know that much about a person—no secrets at all?

  His brow lifted, his gaze wide and expectant. His bottom lip twitched. What he’d just asked me was something huge. Huger than huge, to him at least. As scared as I might be, how could I ever say no when he wanted to share something so deeply intimate?

  I nodded. “Show me. I want to see everything.”

  Smiling hesitantly, he slid his hands into mine and eased us both to our knees. The flutter of his lashes relayed a fear deeper than I could understand—at least until he let me in.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered.

  His hands trembled in mine. “If you don’t like what you see, you can always stop. Just let go of my hands.”

  I closed my eyes as a tingle skittered through my palms, seeping into me and grabbing on before drawing back and whisking me along with it. I plunged into a river of cascading colors. Each swirling slash of pigment encircled me, welcomed me, cherished, and exploded in pure, expectant joy. The different hues melted together, spun, and flashed into a bolt of blinding yellow. I spiraled into the soft glow and landed on my knees in the center of a dull, gray room.

  A boy knelt beside me, violescent except for a few faint bluish spots. My breath hitched. He was Erescopian.

  A woman’s voice filled the room. “Eyes down, Tirran.”

  Tirran … David’s real name.

  My stomach balled. The boy beside me was David. I reached for him, but my hand went right through his lavender arm. He didn’t react.