“No.” Aries surprised herself with the amount of venom in her voice. Now was the time to come clean, to voice the emotions she should have spoken long ago. “They’re telling you what you want to hear, Barliss. I’m sorry. I should have told you in the first place I never wanted to marry you. Even if it’s never been done before, I should have tried.” Her words fell out and a wave of relief spread through her, as if her declaration removed all the obligations clinging to her chest.
He sat there with his mouth half open, and Aries took advantage of his stunned silence. “I want my own life, my own choices.” She stressed her next words. “I want off this ship.”
Barliss shook his head. “That’s impossible. There’s nowhere for you to go. You’re destined to be here, to be my mate. It was chosen by the Guide.”
“What have you done with Striker?”
Barliss scowled. “That man is not of your concern. You’ll never see him again, so put him out of your head. You need to think about your place here, beside me.” He spoke as if he were correcting a child’s insolence.
Aries’ frustration boiled inside her. As always, he wasn’t listening to her. “I’d rather die than marry you.”
Barliss stood abruptly and raised his hand to strike her. With a lift of her chin, she dared him to come at her. She had a few blows saved up for him as well.
The moment hung, sizzling in the air.
Barliss looked away as if he couldn’t bear to stand the sight of her. “Then I’ll have you put on suicide watch. You’re very sick, my dear Aries. I’ll see to it you get better, even if I have to administer your medication myself, every day of our lives. I can tell you this: until you do, I’ll make sure you don’t leave this cell. You have a mighty fine life here. All of your needs are cared for. You have all the possessions you could desire. There’s a price everyone pays, most of us happily, in grateful celebration of our mission. In return for all the New Dawn has done for you, we need your genetic code.”
He stood up, placing his fedora back on his head. “Someday, you’ll come to your senses and then you’ll have to make it up to me. Whether that comes sooner or later, it’s up to you. I have my whole life to wait.”
Aries wanted to hit him with her balled fists until he hurt as much as her sore heart, but she stood mute and frozen as he left her cell, and the chrome wall solidified back in place.
…
The heat could drive any sane person delirious.
The sun beat down on Tiff, slowly microwaving the top of her head. When she ran a hand through her hair, it singed her fingers. With enough time in the sun, the blond spikes would bleach to white again, like they had five years ago. Tiff sipped from her water bottle and trekked ahead, following the coordinates on Reckon’s life scanner, her boots slogging through loose sand.
She glanced behind her to check on the others. Loot dragged the packs of food and water behind him, making a winding trail in the dunes. Drifter followed the boy, keeping his laser cocked and ready to fire. He’d already fired at a few moving sand mounds to scare away whatever came at them. They were all armed. Her gun bumped hard against her pelvis as she walked, but she felt safer with the extra weight.
Reckon stumbled behind them, falling in the sand every few feet. Tiff worried about him the most. They still might need him to decode the map if Striker was unwilling to help.
“Reckon, keep up. I don’t want to leave you behind.”
He’d wrapped his head with strips of fabric from his bed sheets, reminding Tiff of the videos of mummies she’d seen from old Earth.
“Tell that to my legs. I’m being pulled to the ground.”
“That’s the gravity.” Tiff could feel it as well in her burning muscles. “It’s heavier here than on our ship or the space station.”
“Yeah, it’s real gravity.” Loot’s voice was full of awe. “Not some fake pull generated by a compressor.”
“It feels horrid.” Reckon stumbled again and pulled himself up with a face full of sand.
Loot grinned, his freckles stretching across the bridge of his nose. “I love it.”
Tiff punched him in the shoulder. “Wait until I get you to Refuge.”
“I hate to break up this loving family moment, but we’ve got a job to do.” Drifter chewed his lower lip. He’d lost his gum during the crash and Tiff knew not having something to clench in his teeth made him anxious. Drifter tapped his fingers against his holster. “What do the coordinates say?”
Tiff squinted her eyes to make sure she read the device correctly. “There’s a scattering of life-forms in this area, but more on the higher ground by the mountains. It’s a few days’ walk from here, but I think it’s our best bet.”
Drifter looked at Loot. “Will the rations hold out until then?”
Loot glanced down at the swollen backpacks. “They should.”
“All right, Tiff. Lead us there.”
As she crested the ridge, they emerged on a great plateau, surrounding a crater in the center. Tiff froze, scanning the ground. The red orange of the sand had been blown away to layers of deep brown and slate gray, as if the land had had a chunk bitten out.
“What the…?”
Drifter looked over her shoulder. “Looks like Striker’s been busy.”
“No, this isn’t Striker’s doing.” Reckon huffed as he caught up and peered over the rim. “Those marks are made by machines, great mining drills. An excavation team worked here recently.”
“That can’t be possible. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s the only logical answer.” Reckon dug in the ground, pulling out a frayed piece of metal. “Look here. See this symbol? It’s from a colony ship.”
Drifter stole the metal from his hands and smoothed his fingers over the indent of an ancient ocean-going vessel cutting through waves. “You mean those high-up preachers that left our ancestors rotting on Earth?”
“Yup.” Reckon kicked the sand with the toe of his boot, looking for more evidence.
Drifter pocketed the metal. Tiff wondered if he’d try to sell it at the station later. If they ever got back. A chill descended on her shoulders. Somehow she didn’t think she’d ever see anyone on the space station again. She pushed the negative feeling away.
Her hunches usually came true, but she didn’t have the same psychic abilities as her mother. Even now, the thought of her mother’s ridiculous studio with its glowing beads and shiny relics made her sick. She never wanted to be like her, weak and vulnerable to her clients’ whims to the extent she never told them the whole truth. Her brother had been her true role model, not her mother. Then her brother had grown reckless and delusional, too.
She looked back at Drifter. “Looks like Striker’s gotten himself in way over his head.”
Reckon fumbled with some of his devices, scanning the area. “If we’re lucky, he let them be and didn’t get involved.”
Tiff’s eyebrows rose. “Man, you don’t know Striker at all, do you? He always wanted in on the action. Oh yeah.” She threw a rock over the chasm in frustration. “He got involved. He probably got rich, too. He’s probably not even here now.”
“Come on.” Drifter clutched her arm and yanked her forward. “Let’s get moving. There’s nothing left for us to take.”
Tiff jerked her arm back and grabbed the life scanner out of Reckon’s hands. Sure enough, the vast majority of life-forms populated the mountain ridge. She could see the peaks in the distance over the rolling dunes.
“You sure he’s still here?” Reckon asked her under his breath. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d uncovered her mother’s occupation. He seemed to think she would actually sense Striker’s presence.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She hugged her shoulders as she walked on, skirting the scar in the desert sand. The longer she spent on Sahara 354, the more guilt piled on her for leaving him behind. It was as if the sun stared at her in judgment, branding her with the scarlet letter B for Betrayer.
Chapter Seventeen
What it Takes
“Way mad cool! This leg bone is as big as a table in the Omega dining hall.”
Loot dropped the packs and ran up to a whitewashed bone twice his height, running his hands along the curve of an impossibly large rib cage. “What do you think this was?”
“I don’t want to know.” Tiff picked her way through the bones, careful not to brush one with her arm. The vibrations in the place reeked of death and it made her spine prickle.
“I think we should make camp for the night.” Reckon’s voice sounded weak behind Tiff’s shoulder. She turned around and saw him sink to the ground, cradling a bottle of water.
Drifter gestured at the sky. “What night? This place has two suns, of all hellish things!”
Loot jumped into the jaws of a massive skull. “Yeah, my arms ache. Let’s call it a day, Tiff.”
“Every second we waste, Striker could get farther away.” Tiff might as well have been pulling canisters of lead behind her instead of people. The entire journey was taking longer than she thought it should. A current of rising dread nudged her on, like time was the deciding factor in whether they got out of there alive.
“Where’s he gonna go?” Drifter’s exasperation showed on his crooked-nosed face. “The man’s stranded in this sand trap just like the rest of us.”
“Fine.” Tiff wiped sweat from her forehead. “We’ll make camp. Let’s get out of these bones first. I don’t want some creature’s empty eye socket staring at me while I sleep.”
“One more mile,” Drifter said. “That’s it.” He walked by her, stepping on the bones. He cracked a femur into splinters without a care. The sound rattled Tiff’s teeth.
A hopeless sense of loss settled on her shoulders as she trespassed through the graveyard of a long-dead species. Her throat constricted, and she had trouble sucking in enough air. If these great beasts couldn’t survive, then how would a five-foot, hundred-pound waif of a woman make it? Feeling as though she’d used up her own resources long ago, Tiff believed this race to paradise was her only hope. She couldn’t go back to Outpost Omega—she couldn’t live such a desperate life.
But who would help her? Tiff turned to Drifter, but the space pirate avoided her eyes and kept his distance. True to his name, his shifting nature couldn’t possibly provide the support she needed to feel safe.
Tiff was relieved when they left the bones behind, and she walked on clean sand once again. An indent in the side of the mountain provided enough shelter to make camp. Tiff helped Drifter set up a perimeter fence with metal poles and connecting lasers. Loot volunteered to be the first at watch while they slept. He climbed an adjacent ridge and sat with his laser gun cocked.
While Reckon settled off to sleep, Tiff approached Drifter and sat beside him. A desert breeze caressed her sunburned cheeks. “Do you think we’ll find him?”
Drifter ran a hand down his face, wiping away sweat. “How should I know? You’re the freaking psychic. Shouldn’t you be asking yourself?”
Tiff huffed air through her nose. “If you’re gonna insult me, then I’ll turn in for the night.”
“Good.” Drifter’s gaze wandered out to the sand dunes.
Tiff wondered if he was in one of his weird, philosophical moods. That’s when his hard edge really came out.
“You’re bad news for me, girl. Your trouble is, you don’t know what you want. First you wanted Striker. Then you abandoned him here, for me. When we got back to the station, all you could talk about was Striker, and now you’re here, back in the desert, and you’re trying to make amends with me? Shit, Tiff. Find out what you want already and be done with it. Stop wasting everyone’s time.”
His speech was the longest string of words he’d said since they’d left the space station. Drifter stood and walked away, leaving her alone on the ridge, still hurting from the truth of his words. He climbed down to their camp and unrolled his bedding. When he lay down, he turned his back to her.
The sun set in a massive blaze of firelight as the larger sun peeked over the horizon. Not wanting to go near Drifter, Tiff remained on the plateau. As she curled up to sleep, blocking the light with her torn jean coat, she thought about Drifter’s statements. Even though she was the last woman on the planet, Drifter wouldn’t have her back, and she didn’t want him anyway. She’d used him all along.
He was wrong about her. She did know what she wanted. Tiff craved a life of continuity and safety. She wanted to know her man looked after her, no matter what, and planned their future together down to her last days with enough food, shelter, and water to survive. She’d concocted her tough-girl identity out of necessity, but that’s not who she wanted to be. No man alive fulfilled her needs.
What she needed was a time machine. She’d watched all those scratchy, archival videos of old Earth. There was a golden era when women could stay home to raise their kids in pretty painted houses with small gardens and a family dog. She wanted such a life—not having to worry about fending off lusty men in the space station, or going hungry when the food processors broke down. If only she could travel back, if only Loot were her real son, playing catch with his father in the green grass.
Who would that father be?
The sound of laser fire interrupted her thoughts. Tiff sat up, her coat falling from her face as Loot’s scream echoed off the mountain. Drifter was already up, reaching for his gun. He glanced over at her with a dark energy in his eyes. “Let the games begin.”
Tiff fumbled for her laser gun and stood, then stumbled after Drifter. Reckon huddled underneath a small crevice in the rock face. She had no time to admonish his cowardice.
Her breath heaved in and out as she crested the ridge, heart beating like a wild drum. She spotted Loot as he fired at a behemoth armored beast with crab claws for arms and a head full of antennae, twitching angrily. Although Tiff had never seen any animal, insect, or plant in person, to her it looked like a cross between a lobster and a centipede with a dandelion for a head. Its shell was the color of burnt orange, blending with the rippling sands.
The monster clacked its claws and Loot fell, dropping his gun. Drifter fired from the upper ridge, attracting its attention away from the boy.
“Loot!” Tiff yelled so hard she thought she’d spew out her lungs. “Over here!”
Loot scurried underneath the plethora of insect-like legs, grabbed his gun, and escaped as the monster turned its vengeance on Drifter.
Loot met her on the ridge. “It came out of nowhere!”
She pulled him off the ridge to hide behind a dune with her, grasping his arm so tightly, her fingernails poked through his coat.
“I’m sorry, Tiff. It just rose from the sand. I didn’t see it coming.”
“Let it go, Loot.” Tiff felt tears brimming in her eyes. “You’re okay now, and that’s what matters.”
“But Drifter—”
Tiff chanced a fleeting look over the dune. The beast was nearly as tall as the ridge, its front claws snapping only a few feet from Drifter’s boots.
Drifter called over to them. “Fire your lasers! Drive it back!” The crab monster balanced on its hind legs, forcing Drifter to jump back as a claw grazed the ground by his feet.
“Stay behind me.” Tiff unlocked the safety latch on her trigger and ran across the top of the dune. She fired at the beast, but the lasers only left darkened blotches on its armor. She changed the frequency, but still the blasts failed to penetrate the shell.
She spotted a black crevice underneath its arm and aimed, firing white light. Loot followed her and aimed pulses at the same spot. Together, their lasers weakened the joint and the creature fell back, clicking its mouthful of teeth, its front legs jittering.
“Drifter, fall back!”
He ran forward, shooting at the head sprouting with antennae. The monster retreated on its hind legs, claws swinging in front of its tube-like head in defense. Drifter leaped off the ridge and ran at it.
“Drifter, come back!” He was caught up in one of his
rages, blind and deaf to reason. She’d seen it before. Once again, she had a decision to make. If she jumped off the ridge, Loot would follow, and no one would have a good shot at the creature.
They watched from the ridge as Drifter chased the monster. The blasts of laser fire tainted the air, and Tiff held onto Loot and waited. She lost sight of Drifter and the crab beast as they tumbled together down a dune in a slew of spindly legs.
Loot wiggled in her arms. “I want to go help him.”
“You’re not getting involved in his crazy suicide. Stay with me.”
The firing ceased, and Tiff and Loot stood frozen in anticipation and fear. Smoke rose from behind the dune, and the air reeked of burnt flesh. She had a moment of regret.
Loot whispered in her arms. “Is he dead?”
A single black silhouette crested the ridge. In his arm, he held a part of the claw.
Loot cheered and hollered, throwing his gun up in the air. He jumped from the ridge, and Tiff raised her arm in salute, but inside she felt empty. Ashamed. She’d stayed on the ridge in safety instead of helping another person.
Tiff jumped down from the ridge as Loot ran to see the war trophy. Drifter seemed proud to show it off to the boy, but he never glanced in her direction.
She didn’t blame him. Yet again, she’d put her life ahead of another man’s, like she’d put her needs in front of Striker’s five years ago.
A coward like she was didn’t have what it took to love anyone unconditionally, to put her herself on the line.
Chapter Eighteen
Visitor
When Aries looked down, her hands were old, the skin thin and wrinkled like ancient silk. She wore two rings on her left hand: a silver wedding band and Barliss’ diamond studded family heirloom. They felt heavy and loose on her bony fingers.
The carpet underneath her feet did little to dampen the sputtering engines of the New Dawn. The ship sailed along on its last leg in one final push to reach its destiny. She moved to the bubble-shaped, glass window, peering at a blue nebula surrounded by shimmering stars. Her reflection in the glass stared back at her in condemnation, a halo of gray wisps and sad, crinkled eyes. Her life was spent. She wouldn’t live to reach the paradise planet. She’d never leave the ship.
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