Something rustled in the trees, and she felt chill bumps on the back of her neck.
Come on, come on!
She knew the only reason Kildare dealt with her at all was because she never showed her fear. But that didn’t mean she never felt it.
A twig snapped.
She focused on the movement only ten feet from her. A flash of orange-and-black fur slipped from view. Then she saw it. She could smell the animal’s rank, iron-tinged breath.
“I’ve got your payment,” she said just above a whisper. He’d probably heard her the first time, but she couldn’t just stand here being stalked.
Leaves rustled again, and the tiger’s face pushed through the brush. His teeth were the size of her fingers, his body bigger than Tram or Trif. A second tiger appeared, panting in the heat. Both of them stared right at her, eyes intent on their prey. She’d heard they’d eaten off at least one man’s arm in the past.
The huge tigers sat on their haunches, waiting for her next move. She didn’t dare turn her back on them or run. Kildare had them trained to wait for his commands in their ear implants, but Grey couldn’t look at those massive jaws without feeling like tiger bait.
She saw rather than heard when Kildare finally called off the cats by the twitch of their ears. They slunk off into the brush again, and a barefoot young boy appeared, waving for Grey to follow him. She recognized him as Jonah, Kildare’s only son.
She and Jonah passed through the first doorway into almost complete darkness—at least it seemed that way at first, coming straight from the blistering sunshine. Grey followed the sound of Jonah’s footsteps until her eyes adjusted and his energetic form took shape again. Torches along the stone wall illuminated their path.
Jonah turned a corner and they faced another wooden entry, this one smooth and polished. He pulled it open using all his body weight. Grey stayed close as they entered the widening cavern, and now she had to squint in the sudden brightness.
Hanging from the ceiling, gigantic UV lights shone over rows of broad-leafed green plants. Workers dressed in white body suits with protective glasses and face shields were busy tilling in between the rows.
Grey shielded her eyes and could just make out Kildare walking toward them. He was the only one here not wearing white and instead wore a dark blue jumpsuit. A Panama straw hat shielded most of his face. She’d never seen the man smile.
“You’re late,” Kildare said.
“I’m here.”
Kildare waved his son on to other matters, and the boy scampered off.
“You’re still late.”
Grey pulled the carefully-counted coins from her tunic pocket and handed them to the man. Bringing the silver close to his face, Kildare made sure to count it himself. He jerked a thumb toward his indoor field. “New crop’s almost ready.”
“Same price?”
“Maybe.”
Which meant he’d be raising it again. Jet would not be pleased. If she ever worked with Jet again, that is. She decided now wasn’t the time to negotiate. Rin would worry if she wasn’t home before dark.
She turned to leave, but Kildare cleared his throat. Grey knew better than to proceed. With her back to him, she waited.
“Be careful,” he said.
Grey twisted around to see his face, but he’d already disappeared back into his domain of tobacco and artificial sunshine.
* * *
Chapter 6
Grey was a mile from home when she sensed something was wrong. Growing up as they had, she’d learned early on to trust her gut. It could save their lives. She paused beside a boulder, scanning the landscape and wishing once more she had brought the ocelli.
Far in the distance, she thought she spotted a tower of giraffes gathered around one of the few natural watering holes. Closer by, a lioness sprawled beneath an oak tree, panting and waiting for nightfall. A few white cirrus clouds streaked through the sky, but she saw nothing to set her on edge. Nothing to confirm her hunch.
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Oh, please. Not now.
Grey resumed walking, flinging the quote from her mind. She needed to concentrate. Carefully, slowly, she placed one foot in front of the other and continued to scan her surroundings. If a wild animal was following her, it was possible she wouldn’t see it in time to react.
Rock clacked against rock, and Grey spun around, holding her breath so she could listen. If only she had Rin’s auris.
Reaching for her ankle, she unbuckled the gun and waited. But as the sun dipped closer to the line of hazy mountains in the West, there was nothing but a roadrunner trilling from far away and a lizard crawling across the dirt. The wind blew through the branches of the scrub oak, a sound she normally enjoyed. She must just be on edge or overly tired. What she really needed was a cool bath and some of Jet’s delicious leftovers.
Her mouth watered thinking about biting into one of the chocolate apple crisps, and Grey re-holstered the gun and pushed forward toward their silo entrance.
Out of nowhere, a catchship rose over the ridge. Completely silent, it sent stinging dust flying into Grey’s eyes. She held up her sleeve to ward off the debris, glancing in the direction of home. If she ran, she could make it. In a few mad sprints she’d be safely locked behind their steel door, Tram and Trif looking up at her from their dinner wondering what all the commotion was about.
But Grey saw the Mazdaar star insignia on the ship’s side, and she realized that by running she’d be leading the craft straight to their home.
Straight to Rin.
Grey covered her face with her hand and turned away from the hidden entry. Tears filled her eyes as much from the gritty dirt as from the understanding that her worst fears were coming to pass.
Stay inside, Rin. Stay inside!
If her sister came running out here, they would both be captured. At least this way she could keep her sister safe. Rin would figure out a way to survive without her. Mrs. March would take her in if need be.
The catchship hovered ten feet off the ground in front of her and a deep voice boomed, “Grey Alexander, you are ordered to kneel and place your hands on your head. If you do not comply, we will open fire.”
She closed her eyes, falling to her knees as the ship dropped the rest of the way to the ground. The moment it thudded on the desert floor and Grey felt the impact through her body, an opening appeared and two armed metallic drones—they hadn’t bothered covering these with bioskin—in the Mazdaar silver-and-green uniform marched toward her. One of them snapped thin wire restraints on her wrists that she knew were made of unbreakable titanium. If someone tried too hard to remove them they’d dig through muscle and bone. The other drone ripped her pant leg and tore her gun away.
Icy, metallic fingers grabbed her arms and raised her to her feet, shoving her toward the gaping hole in the catchship. Grey longed to look back and call out to her sister, to tell her to be brave and strong and to trust no one but Mrs. March. She closed her eyes as they shoved her inside the ship.
I love you, Rin.
The huge hatch zipped closed behind her, and she felt the ship rise under her feet with a sickening lurch even as the drones pushed her into a seat along the wall.
The reality of what was happening hit her like the frigid air inside the dark ship. Surrounded by black metal and huge support beams, there was no color other than the drones’ uniforms. Grey’s stomach dropped as the ship flew upward and then quickly leveled. Ships like these could reach the Plano city zone, the capital of the Alamo Republic, within minutes.
But the minutes ticked by, and the drones stood silent guard over her. If this was a Mazdaar catchship, wouldn’t they take her straight to the capital base? And wouldn’t they have arrived by now? She knew asking questions of the drones would be futile as they were probably programmed only to make the grab.
After at least an hour of flight, the pressure in her eardrums became so intense as they dropped that she
instinctively cupped her bound hands over one of her ears while trying to shield the other with her shoulder. She felt the ship shudder. Then everything was still except for a dull vibration within the walls.
The drones grabbed her by both arms again and led her out of the ship. Grey sniffed and squared her shoulders, preparing herself for whatever came with as much strength as she could muster.
***
The cell where they dumped Grey reeked of sweat. The slab of a bed was stainless steel with scratches marring its surface, and the toilet and sink were steel too. A few strands of hair clumped over the drain in the floor.
She knew she was being watched as she carefully washed her wrists in the sink and tried not to wince at the sting of the water hitting the thin red lines the cuffs had dug into her skin. To calm her racing mind, she played back her visit with Mrs. March and hoped the officials here hadn’t discovered a way to read thoughts. She’d heard of that.
Mrs. March had always been a little eccentric, but that’s what Grey liked about her. She didn’t fit any mold. But Jupiter? Had she really meant it when she said she’d flown convicts to the planet? It was hard to picture her as a Mazdaar pilot. Mrs. March was against everything they stood for.
A buzz came from the door, and two guards entered. Grey keyed herself up, glancing quickly into their fully-dilated pupils. One had a scar on its forehead as if it had been injured. She didn’t realize bioskin could repair like that.
“Turn around.” The drone’s voice had no fluctuation.
The restraints were clamped back on her wrists, a little looser than before.
They led her down a hallway, and her heart pumped in time with their footsteps. Passing through two security blocks where someone had to unlock the entrances for them, Grey quickly lost track of where she was. Even if she could fight these drones off, she wouldn’t have a clue how to escape.
The drones stopped in front of an unmarked white door, pausing probably for whoever was inside to scan their brain chips for the information they’d gathered on Grey.
As soon as the door opened, the machines that looked like humans led her inside. It reminded her of when Carr had left them in that conference room waiting for Jet. Only instead of a luxurious, clear conference table, a black metal desk was placed squarely in the center. A leather chair was behind it with a molded plastic one in front.
The drones deposited Grey in the plastic chair, and she had to sit on its edge with her hands twisted behind her back. At least they’d let her keep her clothes, and she hadn’t undergone a strip search since they’d performed a total body scan. Which meant they had to know she wasn’t connected by now. Had they finally decided to crack down and force those on the outside to have the Mazdaar Communication Dot implanted?
Dot implants had first been introduced back when Mazdaar took power and the survivors of the War were in panic mode. No larger than a grain of rice and injected painlessly into a person’s head or hand, they were given to everyone free of charge. All personal information could be stored in a Dot, and buying and selling was as easy as a hand swipe. People were eager to connect to the security and convenience Mazdaar offered.
Later, they upgraded to implants that could do more, including chips in the brain which operated by cognition. Combined with permanent ocelli lenses and auris plugs, they allowed a user to connect to all the networks, communicating easily with anyone, anywhere.
She almost hoped that was why she was here. If they forced her to get a Dot, they’d probably release her. There were procedures to remove them later, though they were painful.
Grey jumped as the wall beside her opened. When she saw the woman who entered, her pulse thumped.
General Evangeline Yurkutz glided into the room and stood behind the leather chair, her yellow eyes resting on Grey. A dark green cape flowed over one shoulder and down her back, the Mazdaar emblem prominently stitched to her sleeve. The general sat down at the desk, and dread surged through Grey. Mrs. March had warned her about this woman. Had they found out about her shooting the patroller?
The drones saluted, retreating back into the hallway and leaving Grey completely alone with someone she was sure wasn’t above killing her just for sport.
“Since you are not connected, I will speak out loud for your benefit,” General Yurkutz said in an accent Grey had never heard before.
“Where am I, and why am I here?” Grey scooted even farther toward the edge of her chair.
Yurkutz waved toward the wall behind her and a panel of floor-to-ceiling windows appeared. Grey cringed at the view. Glistening in the orange evening sun, a thousand sparkling buildings stretched toward the sky. If it wasn’t utterly terrifying, it would’ve been breathtaking. This wasn’t a painting on the wall of Jet’s office. This was a window, and the long flight now made sense.
They’d taken her to Mazdaar City.
* * *
Chapter 7
Why am I here?” Grey repeated.
She stood up to appear stronger than she felt. She was now on the other side of the world—as far from the Preserve as she could possibly be—and she had no idea why.
General Yurkutz folded her hands, and Grey noted the woman’s fingernails were filed to points.
“I was surprised when your name came to my attention,” Yurkutz said.
She knew her name?
“I wasn’t aware my name would matter to someone like you.” Grey kept her tone as respectful as possible.
The general stared at her with those weird eyes, and Grey almost wondered if she was fully human. Maybe they’d finally found a way to stabilize zoonotic genetics.
“You’re Tanner and Sue Alexander’s daughter.”
She suddenly felt like a mouse in this lion’s lair. “What do my parents have to do with this?”
“Everything.” Leaning forward, the woman’s eyes flicked up and to the right, and a life-size 3D hologram of Mom and Dad materialized beside them. It was all Grey could do to maintain her composure. They looked so real, just like the last time she’d seen them.
“I . . . I don’t understand.”
“Let me remind you that lying to me will get you nowhere.”
Grey stared at the image of her parents. Seeing them again, even in this form, caused a rush of yearning.
“They’re dead,” Grey said softly.
“What did they tell you about their mission?”
The wire restraints seemed to pinch tighter, and Grey dropped down in the chair again. Mission? Dad fixed things, and Mom grew medicinal herbs. There was no mission other than to make sure she and Rin survived outside of Mazdaar long enough to grow up. She tore her eyes away from the image.
“I don’t know about any mission.”
“Really?” General Yurkutz raised an eyebrow.
Grey glanced at the hologram again. Frozen in place, her parents appeared to be staring at something in the distance. Both wore tan cargo pants and white tunics like they always had.
“I want to know what I’m charged with.”
Yurkutz gave a slight laugh. Her hands were still folded. “Grey Alexander, you haven’t been charged with anything, yet.”
“Then why am I here?”
The Mazdaar general blinked twice, and the hologram disappeared. “Your charges will be dealt with in time, I assure you. On top of your smuggling activities, you have murdered a border patrol agent. Both merit strict punishment.”
Grey’s mouth suddenly felt as dry as her desert home. She had hoped the guard had survived. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself not to show any sign of guilt.
“And you are not connected. But you may be surprised to know that I do not really care about any of those things. I have different plans for you.”
Grey balled her fingers into fists behind her back.
“Oh, you can try to be tough. But it won’t be of much use, I’m afraid.” Yurkutz leaned across the desk. “Mazdaar always wins. Your parents know this better than anyone. Now why don’t we try this again.
Where are they?”
What was she talking about? Grey had given up wishing Mom and Dad were still alive, and she didn’t dare let herself hope again.
The general glared at her, and the smallest of smiles crept onto her lips. Suddenly, searing pain shot through the wire restraints into Grey’s wrists and up her arms with the intensity of a lightning bolt. She braced against it. The pain arced down her spine radiating toward her legs, and a guttural cry came out of her mouth.
The pain left as quickly as it had come.
“Perhaps now you understand how important this is to me,” General Yurkutz said.
Grey straightened, the back of her shirt now sticking to the plastic chair. She tried to catch her breath. “I . . . don’t . . . know what you’re talking about. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” Grey braced for another shock from the cuffs, but Yurkutz stood to her feet. She had to be at least six feet tall.
“I can see you will need some convincing,” Yurkutz said.
The drones returned without warning and grabbed Grey by the arms again. She flinched at their touch. Their bioskin was warm. She tried to stand, but her legs almost gave out. Her muscles still trembling, the drones practically carried her out of the room. In one of the corridors, a group of men in black suits came toward them in the hallway. When Grey caught sight of the man in the long tailcoat, she called out.
“Jet?”
His eyes met hers, then darted away. Had he ratted on her?
The group parted for them as they passed, but Grey strained against her captors, twisting around to see Jet’s form drift away.
“Jet! Jet, please!”
“Quiet,” one of the drones said in a synthesized voice.
Jet kept walking and didn’t look back.
* * *
Chapter 8
Hiding in the alcove at the top of their silo, Rin had helplessly watched them take Grey. It took everything in her to keep from racing out to try and rescue her sister. She’d held her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. She knew why Grey hadn’t run for home, and the tears hadn’t stopped pouring from Rin’s eyes since.
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