The Black Stars

by Dan Krokos

  Mason locked eyes with Merrin, who seemed to have already accepted what he was planning to do next. “It’s not over, Po. Not until we get Tom back.”

  Mason stood up; a wave of nausea smacked him in the stomach. His vision blurred. He blinked it away, calling upon the gloves to steady him, a thing they were very willing to do. When this is over, the gloves are coming off. He waited to see if the gloves gave some kind of reaction, but they were quiet.

  “They’re not going to let you go,” Po said. “Not with the gloves. They’d never risk letting the Fangborn get their claws on them. Reckful has been ordered to take us to the Will for a press conference.”

  “It sounds like we’re all famous now,” Risperdel said. “But yeah, they’re not going to let you go to Nori-Blue, and they’re certainly not going to authorize a mission.”

  “I’m not asking for authorization. Who can stop me?” Mason said.

  Po didn’t seem to have an answer for that.

  But Mason wanted to be sure before he risked more lives. He reached down to his boot and removed the communicator Grand Admiral Shahbazian had given to him and Tom. Everyone gave him an odd look when he squeezed it in one hand, before he closed his eyes.

  The incoming sensations of the room Mason was currently in—the dry smell of recycled air, the tiny vibrations through the soles of his feet—all of that faded away. He caught a glimpse of GAS’s office, but Mason didn’t want that just yet. He knew the answer he would get from GAS if he asked for help right now. Instead, he reached out across the galaxy for the other communicator. And he found it. It was inside Tom’s boot, but it gave a picture of the room around it, painted in bluish hues and sharp white lines. The quality was much lower, since the device was not synced to Tom the way it was to Mason.

  Tom was on his side, in a dirty cell carved from rock. The door was a transparent force field. Outside, a Fangborn slinked by, dragging his claws along the force field, creating green sparks. Tom flinched away, shivering, then froze. He looked down at his boot, where the communicator was vibrating on a low frequency inside his heel. He pulled out the device and gripped it tightly in one hand. Two seconds later, Mason stood in the cell with Tom.

  “Mason!” Tom said, but only in his mind.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m okay—they roughed me up a little. But I’m fine. Did you win?”

  “We won.”

  “Of course we did.” Tom seemed to relax, which was odd to see considering he was currently inside an alien prison on an alien planet.

  “I’m coming after you,” Mason said.

  “No! Are you crazy? They’ll expect that. There are Fangborn everywhere. I’m in some kind of underground prison city.”

  “This isn’t a discussion.”

  “You’re right! It’s a suicide mission. They—”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t think you should come, Mason.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because … one of them told me … they said soon I would be like them. They’re going to change me.”

  Mason’s blood went cold. “I won’t let that happen.”

  “There’s nothing you can do about it! I’ll be different. Even with the cure, you won’t be able to get to me in here without getting eaten.”

  “Tom. If I was stuck in there, or Merrin was, what would you do?”

  Tom didn’t say anything for a long minute. Then he shrugged. “I’d come after you. But it’s not worth it, Stark. If you can’t think of yourself, think of your friends who might get hurt. Who will get hurt.” A shadow fell across Tom. Mason looked to the right and saw two Fangborn outside Tom’s cell.

  The larger one spoke, the muscles in his throat undulating. “It’s time to evolve, little one.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Tom looked at Mason, a mixture of resolve and fear on his face. “It’s too late! Stay away, please.” He cut the feed.

  Mason opened his eyes and dropped the communicator. He was shivering like Tom had been. He touched the pocket of his robe and felt the vials within. They had survived their trip through space. “He—he’s on Nori-Blue. The Fangborn have him prisoner. They’re going to turn him into a monster.…” Mason started for the door.

  Lore blocked the way, her hands held loose at her sides. “Reckful won’t take you to Nori-Blue. Are you prepared to fight him?”

  Mason turned to face Po, Merrin, and Risperdel. “I have a plan, but I can’t do it by myself.”

  The three shared a look.

  Po shrugged. “If we don’t go with you, they’re just going to throw us in a cell and question us for days. Might as well.”

  Risperdel nodded solemnly.

  The corner of Merrin’s mouth twitched: the ghost of a smile. “Was there ever any doubt?”

  * * *

  “We’re going to need a little more help,” Mason said to Merrin. They were docking at the Will. Mason felt a rush of air as the main door opened before the pressure could equalize.

  “Luckily, I know a good crew,” Merrin said.

  Reporters both Tremist and human were waiting for them in the docking bay of the Will. They were crowded around the exit ramp with their cameras and their questions. Po was happy to take center stage, but once they saw Mason on the ramp they elbowed Po aside. Mason half considered using his shield to push them back.

  What happened out there what did you see inside tell us about your gloves are you a Blood or a Stone?

  Mason squinted against their lights and held up his hands. The words died away and the reporters seemed to hold their breath, waiting to see what Mason had to say next.

  “I need a ship,” Mason said. “Who wants to let me borrow theirs?”

  No one spoke.

  “You’ll get an exclusive,” Mason said.

  * * *

  Five minutes later they were aboard a shuttle that belonged to the galaxy’s number-one news network, MWNN. The Milky Way News Network had special clearance with the ESC (in exchange for a few positive puff pieces each year), which would make the next part of their mission easier.

  “Better hurry,” Merrin said. Through the window, they could see the Will’s security forces moving toward them. They wore blue uniforms and carried handheld talons—the deadly energy weapons used by the Tremist—on their hips. Security must’ve been watching the news feed and realized Mason and his team had no intention of being part of a press conference.

  Mason piloted the shuttle out of the bay, passing through the force field into space. Once clear of the Will, Mason dropped a cross gate. It expanded in front of them while their com logged over five hundred separate incoming frequencies. I’ve got their attention.

  Only one of them made it through. “Where do you think you’re going?” It was Grand Admiral Shahbazian. “I need you back here now. Nice work, by the way.”

  Mason decided to give GAS one chance. “Sir, I need a team of Reynolds to come with me to Nori-Blue. Cadet Tom Renner is currently a prisoner there. And I am going to get him back.”

  “Nori-Blue? Are you insane, Cadet? You clearly have some schooling left, son. We don’t just execute missions on the fly. We require things like intelligence and reconnaissance. And planning. We currently have none of those things. Which means the answer is no. We can discuss a mission when you get back. But for now, you’re a hero, son. Be a hero to these people.”

  Mason thought of the dead he was unable to save. Of the fighter pilots who perished because of his actions. His best friend captured because of Mason’s arrogance. The people he had saved diminished the lives he had lost not at all.

  “I’m no hero,” Mason said, then he flew the shuttle through the gate.

  * * *

  The shuttle appeared in high orbit above Mars. The computer flagged Academy I and II with little golden rings, highlighting them on the glass. Mason began his descent.

  The com clicked: “Unidentified shuttle, this is ESC traffic control. State your business.”
>
  Po prodded his shoulder. “Say something!”

  “This is Mason Stark,” he said. “I’m here to pick up two cadets. Patch me through to Academy II.”

  Ten minutes later they were in the shuttle bay of Academy II. Having ESC ground under his feet again gave Mason a strange, tickly feeling in his chest. It was a good feeling. But so much had happened, he wondered if he could still be considered a cadet. Was he a cadet, or a rhadjen? Could he be both?

  Mason was not surprised to see two Reynolds waiting for him in the shuttle bay. GAS wasn’t going to give up that easily.

  “Are you here to detain me?” Mason said to them. “Because that will go badly for all parties involved.”

  The Reynolds shared a look, but Mason couldn’t see their expressions behind the blank masks. Their circular eye lenses brightened, flickering from pink to white.

  “No, kid,” the one on Mason’s left said. “Well, yes. We are technically here to detain you.” His voice came out raspy, modified by a computer.

  “But we’re not going to do that,” the right one said. “Vice Admiral Bruce Renner was our commanding officer back in the day. We heard his son is in danger, and that you’re not okay with that.”

  “Not okay at all,” Mason said.

  “So we’re asking permission to come along.”

  Mason wondered if it was some kind of trick, a ploy designed to lower his guard so they could take him in peacefully. After the destruction of the Fangborn ship, who wouldn’t be afraid of his power?

  The left one removed his mask … and Mason discovered he was a she. A tumble of bright red hair fell around her shoulders. Her cheeks were dappled with freckles. She looked around Susan’s age. “Kylie Sparks, at your service.”

  Mason shook her hand. The other one did not seem interested in removing his or her mask. “I need all the help I can get. Thank you. Find a spot on the shuttle.”

  Behind the Reynolds, the doors to the school hissed open. Mason peered over Kylie’s shoulder and saw something that almost made him forget all the bad stuff that had happened. A real smile formed on his face. Because Jeremy and Stellan were here. The team was almost back together.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Jeremy and Stellan walked down the steps and sidled up next to the Reynolds. They were two of the bravest soldiers Mason had ever known, and two of Mason’s closest friends. For this mission most of all, Mason appreciated how different they were. Stellan was purely logical and thought-driven. Jeremy was smart, too, but he liked to break stuff with his hands. They even looked completely opposite: Jeremy, dark hair and eyes, stocky and muscled; Stellan, willowy and tall, bone-thin, with hair so blond it was nearly white.

  “Reporting for duty,” Jeremy said with just a hint of sarcasm. “I hear the Fangborn decided to mess with one of our crew. The lore books will mark that down as a bad idea on their part.”

  Stellan, who was normally the first one to voice a doubt or make everyone take a second to think, was grim, his brow furrowed in anger. He would offer no objections. They were going to get Tom back, end of story.

  Mason put his hands on their shoulders, pulling them into a huddle. “I can’t even begin to express how good it is to see you two.”

  Jeremy grinned. “They can’t keep us apart forever.” Something caught his attention behind Mason, and his eyes narrowed. “What’s this?”

  Mason turned: his new team was on the ramp of the shuttle, gloves glowing softly, rhadjen robes fluttering in the draft from the bay’s climate control. The image struck him as so out of place—this was an ESC school, after all. Mason knew soon the time would come to choose between his old school and the new.

  For now, his blood still belonged to the ESC.

  “You brought Rhadgast here?” Jeremy said. He almost took a step back but seemed to catch himself. Jeremy never showed apprehension, even if he was feeling it.

  “I must agree,” Stellan said, “this is highly irregular.”

  “They’re my teammates, same as you. I can vouch for them.”

  Jeremy’s look softened, but only by half. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

  Maybe too long. How much time had passed? Not even a month.

  “Look,” Mason said. “They’re cadets, they’re soldiers. Just like us.”

  Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Just like us?”

  “Well, maybe not as disciplined as us. Or as disciplined as Stellan, I should say.”

  Stellan grinned. “I can be a rebel, too, you know.”

  “I know,” Mason said. “Will you both keep an open mind?”

  Jeremy nodded. “For you.”

  “I won’t turn away help,” Stellan said. “And I’ve been wanting to talk to a Tremist for a very long time.”

  Mason led them to the others. Po shook their hands eagerly and said, “More humans! I was hoping to meet more. I … that sounds strange, doesn’t it.” It only sounded strange because Po was now speaking English.

  “Probably,” Risperdel said, also in English. Their accents were slightly clipped and proper.

  Lore didn’t shake hands with anyone. Her mouth was a thin hard line. As the team acquainted themselves with Jeremy and Stellan, Mason walked over to her.

  “What?” she said.

  Mason didn’t know where to begin. “You … it seemed like … you were, you know, not going to hate my guts forever.”

  “I don’t hate you,” she said, in a way that said she totally hated him.

  Mason waited until she said more.

  She sighed after a moment, and her shoulders relaxed. “My family has been Rhadgast going back past the days of the Divider. And I’ve lost uncles and aunts in our war with the humans, cousins, too. I know you saved us, but still more Rhadgast are dead.” She shook her head.

  “I never meant…” But the words felt hollow as he thought them. Meaningless.

  “I know that. I know. And I know not everything is your responsibility, even if you don’t. But it doesn’t make it hurt less. You understand that, right? You did everything you could, and I honor you for that. Just give me more time.… I know we owe you our lives, Mason. I am grateful for that. And for you.”

  Mason drew breath to say something—he didn’t know what—but Merrin appeared from around the corner. “Is everything okay?” She looked between Mason and Lore. Lore had her eyes on the floor, but then she lifted them to Merrin, and they were only slightly warmer than before.

  “Everything’s fine,” Mason replied.

  “Good. Because Tom is waiting for us.” Mason felt a pang in his stomach—as if he had to be reminded? “Everyone is loaded up. Let’s fly.”

  In the shuttle’s passenger section, Mason faced his team. Kylie and the other Reynold were piloting them out of the Martian atmosphere. Jeremy and Stellan were mixed in with Po, Merrin, Risperdel, and Lore, a gesture Mason appreciated. They were all crammed in the seats, harnesses locked down tight.

  Jeremy smiled at Risperdel. “Hi, what’s your name? I’m Jeremy. Jeremy Cane. You may have heard of me. I was part of the team that assaulted the Fangborn ship above Nori-Blue. You know, when the Will and the Olympus were almost monster food? Yeah, that was me.”

  Risperdel was looking at Jeremy as if he were some kind of alien parasite trying to burrow into her skin.

  Mason cleared his throat, and Jeremy faced forward, his smile fading into serious mode, with just the hint of a smirk left.

  Mason didn’t have some grand speech planned. He simply said, “Thank you for coming with me. Thank you for the honor of fighting at your side.” Then he buckled himself in and tried to turn inward, to meditate, and to calm himself for what came next.

  Merrin was sitting next to him. He placed his hand on hers, and she curled her fingers around his. He savored the feeling, tried to stamp it into his mind. Because the ride to Nori-Blue was short, and Mason didn’t know how much time he would have left as a human.

  Chapter Forty

  Mason felt the strange static on his skin
when they passed through the cross gate. He unbuckled his restraints and walked into the shuttle’s cockpit. And there was Nori-Blue, massive and green, frosted with wispy clouds from pole to pole. In the southern hemisphere was the dark gray smudge of a storm.

  “Where do you want us to put her down?” Kylie asked.

  Mason popped his communicator into a slot on the console. All ESC coalition ships were required to have basic ESC functions, and this was one of them. A three-dimensional hologram appeared above the console: a photo-realistic picture of Nori-Blue, with a pulsing orange dot south of the equator.

  “There,” Mason said.

  Kylie nodded, then fed power to the engines, bringing the shuttle in at a shallow angle for a smooth approach. The planet grew until all Mason could see was green.

  The ship banked hard to the left, heading south. Mason was thrown sideways; he caught himself on the wall with both hands and barely avoided cracking his head open. Through the windshield was the storm Mason saw from orbit: a wall of charcoal clouds they were heading straight toward.

  “You might want to buckle up, kid,” Kylie said, her hands struggling with the twin control sticks.

  “What’s happening?” the other Reynold said. “I’ve lost control!”

  Mason had an idea, but he dared not hope.

  Allow me … a voice said in his head.

  “Did you hear that?” Kylie said.

  “Allow me?” the other Reynold said. “Allow who what?”

  “Child!” Mason shouted. It was so good to hear the AI’s voice once again.

  You are off course. I’m afraid they moved Cadet Tom Renner and left his communicator behind in the cell. Luckily, I’ve been tracking them. I will fly you to that location now.

  The other Reynold put a calming hand on Kylie’s forearm. “Let him take over. I read the report—there’s an ancient AI on the surface who helped the cadets gain the knowledge of the People. He’s friendly, I swear.” Mason still couldn’t tell if the other Reynold was a man or a woman, as the mask modulated his or her voice into a grainy rasp.