He’d colonize Refuge, and he’d make his world different. Striker remembered the processor. Tearing the mask from his face, he ran toward the canyon at the far end of the colony. His heart beat faster with each leap he took. What if the New Dawn’s crew had found it? What if it wasn’t there? When he entered the shallow cave, the pearly white shell of the alien construct peaked out in the shadows of the rock.
Striker leaned against it and caught his breath. He’d been here with Aries days ago, and she’d tried to tell him something, tried to open her heart. He wished now he hadn’t shushed her. Her people had been closing in and he’d wanted to get her out of there. He’d thought there was no time for words, but now he kicked himself for not staying to hear her out. What would she have said?
Striker’s determination hardened. He would see her again. He’d told the biggest lie of his life when he’d pushed Aries away and said he couldn’t love her. The truth burned in his chest, waiting to be spoken. She had to know.
The processor was too heavy for him to lift alone, and so he got behind it and pushed. His legs ached from chasing after the hovercrafts and traipsing across the sand dunes to get back to his own ship. He gritted his teeth against the pain and heaved. The processor slowly budged and he pushed it from the cave into the canyon, muscles burning in his arms.
It took him the entire day to drag it back to the alien ship. The duel suns rose and set on each horizon, casting pools of shadows between ridges and bathing the pristine white of the ship in red and orange light as he approached. The coral seemed to glisten stronger in the rays, as if the possibility of completeness tantalized its inner workings.
A rising sense of anticipation overtook him, and his heart beat faster as he dragged the processor to the prow. Five years of work, and now he’d know if it had all been for naught, if he’d be able to get Aries back, if he’d be able to repay the alien race by bringing their eggs to Refuge.
Striker dusted the sand off the processor with the stolen raider coat and inserted it into an indent in the side of the hull, the place where he thought it had broken off. He prayed under his breath as the processor slid into place. The coral fused together, reconnecting with the mother ship. He smoothed his fingers over the melded crack. The entire white shell glowed brighter and brighter until the blue light obliterated the red-orange rays of the suns. His skin prickled with anticipation as he rode a tidal wave of emotions all overwhelming him at once. If the outer shell had that much energy, he couldn’t imagine what it was like inside. Collecting himself, he jumped onto the ship, tracing the hieroglyphs to open the hatch.
…
The monster’s claw tasted better than anything Tiff had ever eaten. She shoved it in her mouth and chewed, enjoying the sensation of her teeth puncturing the flesh. She ate until her belly felt round and she grew sleepy in the arid heat.
Drifter turned another portion of meat over the fire and smiled. “Not bad, huh?” His beady eyes had that arrogant look that drove her crazy and she turned away, spitting out a piece of shell. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
A piece of meat hung from Loot’s chin and he sucked it in with a grin. “It’s so different than our recycled food back at the station.” Drifter handed him another spit from the fire.
Tiff turned toward the horizon. “When are we going to head out?”
The feeling of time slipping away came back to her in a wash, and a sharp anxiety made her dizzy all at once. Maybe she’d just eaten too much, or maybe Striker slipped farther away every minute they wasted. Tiff wondered if he knew they’d landed. Would he run from them or greet them with weapons? She couldn’t bear to imagine what he thought of her.
“Give us time to digest our food, will ya?” Reckon chugged water from a bottle and Tiff made a mental note not to touch that one once he put it down. Her eyes wandered to a black cloud rising behind the next mountain.
“Over there! I see smoke.”
“Where?” Loot ran to the edge of the ridge. Tiff glanced at Drifter, but he gave her a suspicious look through his oily hair and rotated another chunk of the monster claw.
“She’s right.” Loot pointed to the horizon. “It’s coming from the canyon between those two mountains. Well, that’s where we oughtta go, you think?” Loot looked at Tiff with eagerness in his eyes. His optimism pulled at her heart, but the place beyond the ridge exuded negative vibes.
Reckon shuddered and wiped his face. “I don’t know. Seems to me, we should stay clear of anything smoking.”
“Wrong.” Drifter’s voice had an edge of finality to it, like he’d cast the deciding vote. “I say we pack up and see what’s over there.”
Tiff closed her eyes. Something about being on the planet and feeling the gravity, the wind and the sun, and tasting real food, made her body charge with an acute feeling of being alive. She allowed the wind to carry her thoughts, feeling the ground’s pull underneath her feet and the sun’s rays at her back. She sensed Striker’s presence near, like the shadow of an old friend. Tugging on the strand of thought, she pushed the boundaries holding it back. She saw a flash of black fabric, a whitewashed shell, and the curve of a strong-boned cheek.
“He’s been there.” She blurted without a thought as to how her companions would react. She opened her eyes and saw them all staring at her. She’d have to be convincing if they were to believe her. Her voice hardened. “His presence is fading. We must leave now.”
Drifter kicked sand on the fire and reached for his laser gun. He clicked the safety switch off and nodded in the direction of the smoke. “Let’s go.”
Tiff stared at Drifter. “That’s it? No questions, no complaining?”
Drifter jerked his head and flung back his hair. It used to make her skin hot with desire, but now that move just annoyed her. “You don’t think I’ve ever suspected you have the same sixth sense as your mom?”
Surprised by his faith in her, Tiff’s heart opened a little, but then closed back up. “You always called her a crazy bitch.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean her fortune-telling.”
It took them most of the day to reach the canyon, skirting the mountainside and stepping over fallen rocks. Patches of scraggly shrubs poked through the jagged terrain with prickles the size of needles. Tiff and Loot scouted for the safest path, since they had the best balance. As they took the lead, Drifter kept his distance, shuffling behind them and whispering with Reckon.
Loot walked beside her as they slid down an incline of pebbles. “Why did you abandon Striker here, anyway?”
“You know, it was so long ago I don’t even remember why, exactly. Kind of like when it’s been so long, you forget to be mad at the person you’re supposed to be mad at.”
Tiff dusted her knees off and continued, looking back to make sure Drifter was far enough away he couldn’t hear. “Striker had crazy dreams of finding a paradise planet and relocating all of Outpost Omega. When he found Refuge, I wondered why he didn’t just want to be there with me. The two of us, alone, together. If he brought everyone else along, it would just end up like another ruined old Earth: wars, pollution, overpopulation, you know. You’ve heard the stories.”
“Yeah, I heard ’em.” Loot kicked stray rocks and hit the cactus five meters ahead of them, causing a spider-mouse to scurry for shelter. “Still, it’s really good of him to try to save everyone like that. I mean, what a hero.”
The more they talked about it, the angrier she got, resurrecting her old demons. “He loved his ideals more than he loved me, and I hated him for it. If it came down to it, he would have left me for his greater cause.”
“I’ll never leave you. Even though you do act like my mom.” Loot punched her shoulder and she smiled, ruffling his hair. The one good thing she’d done in her life was take him in. She hoped it made up for everything else.
They crested the ridge as the plumes of smoke grew on the horizon. The ruins of a primitive civilization stretched before them in piles of
blackened soot.
“Cool, it’s a lizard man.” Loot scurried down the ridge to where a body lay burnt in the middle.
“Don’t touch it.” Tiff ran to keep up with him, her fingers staying on the grip of her gun. “We don’t know if the thing is diseased or venomous.”
Over her shoulder she heard Drifter call out, “I’ll cover you from the ridge.”
“Don’t shoot anything.” Tiff yelled back to him, “It may be Striker.”
“Wouldn’t want to hurt a hair on his head now, would we?”
“Not if you want to get off this planet, we don’t.”
As Loot bent over the strange, reptilian face, Tiff kept her distance and cocked her laser, peering through the debris for any signs of a live lizard creature.
Reckon caught up to them. When she turned to him, she saw fear in his eyes. His voice cracked on his words. “I thought they were colonists, not marauders.”
Tiff shrugged. “The lizard men must have posed some kind of threat or stolen something very valuable to them.” Although her explanation seemed logical, the carnage made Tiff uneasy.
Drifter finished sweeping the area, tucked his laser into its holster, and slid down the incline. “Well, these lizard people sure as hell pissed the colonists off.”
“I’ll say.” Loot covered a body with a piece of hide from a fallen tent. “Where is everyone?”
“Dead.” Reckon had unholstered his gun and held it in shaky hands. “Or they ran away.”
“Let’s hope so.” Tiff gestured in front of her. “Whoever these colonists are, let’s pray they’re long gone by now. Come on. Search the area. Look for any signs of Striker.”
As she picked her way among the ruins, Tiff had a sinking feeling that Striker had moved on.
“Looks like we missed the party.” Drifter threw a piece of burnt hide over his shoulder and kicked some broken tools in the debris. “There’s no sign of him, psychic girl.”
Reckon sat on a rock and wiped the sweat from his red forehead. “Yeah. Anything that happened here is long done.”
Loot walked to her side and put a hand on her shoulder. He spoke under his breath, “Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
Tiff squeezed back tears as anger and frustration balled up like two fists inside her. She should be the one comforting the boy, but the finality of the dead colony only made her feel like a failure. She yelled a curse through gritted teeth and kicked a rock across the ruins so hard it left a dent in the metal sole of her boot.
“You stay here.” Loot handed her an almost empty water bottle. “I’ll make camp, ’kay?”
She couldn’t bring herself to answer him with her usual “Okay.” Hope seeped away from Tiff, like someone had cut a vital vein in her arm and let her blood flow out. Her body went limp and she gave in to the doubt lurking in her heart. She’d had a true vision when she’d felt like she’d never see the space station again. They were on a wild goose chase, marooned on this forsaken planet for the rest of their lives.
As Tiff looked for something to rip apart, she heard Drifter shout with a voice full of awe. “Oh man! Look at that!”
She raised her head, dreading whatever vile creation came at them next. No giant crab spider descended from above. Instead, blue light filled the sky, like an aurora borealis shining from somewhere in the distance.
“What do you suppose it is?” Loot stopped hammering a perimeter laser in the sand to shield his gaze.
“Can’t be electromagnetic or weather-related.” Reckon squinted his eyes. “Something on the ground is projecting it.”
“Don’t make camp.” Tiff reached out and clamped her hand on Loot’s arm. Her voice was desperate, but she couldn’t control it. Her anguish had bounced back to hope and her body filled with bubbles of anxiety. “We’re going over there.”
Chapter Twenty
Reunion
The hallway leading to the commander’s flight seat lay as empty as the vortex to a black hole. Barliss hesitated, wondering where the attendants had run off to. They weren’t supposed to leave the commander alone at any moment. Barliss buzzed the panel, requesting entry to the control deck, since his lieutenant’s status didn’t grant him clearance. After stating his name, the doors parted and disappeared into the walls. He straightened his uniform, took a deep breath and stepped in. Cool, conditioned air blew out, ruffling his hair. The tangy scent of chemicals tickled his nose. Wires sprouted from the man in the great chair in the center of the room like flowers from a vase, spreading up to connect to the ship’s systems and controls. Tubes holding gallons of pale liquids reflected the fluorescent lights surrounding the armrests of the chair.
“Good Evening, Lieutenant.” The pilot’s seat rotated to face him and the commander’s moon-white face wrinkled into a thin smile. He looked like a stick man in his firmly pressed uniform, the cotton still creased in perfect folds as if he never bent down.
Barliss bowed, looking down at his boots. He scolded himself for not polishing the scuffs before walking in. He felt like he trespassed in the commander’s sterile, pristine accommodations, tramping in with all kinds of germs and dirt. “Commander Gearhardt.”
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” The commander gestured to the wires protruding from his head like metal dreadlocks. “I’m getting older and it’s harder for me to disconnect. The risks are not worth the pretense.”
Barliss had no idea how old the commander was, but the man had been ancient even when Barliss had run around as a boy with plastic laser guns. One of the tubes bubbled and he tried not to stare as the liquid traveled down a clear hose and into the commander’s arm. “I understand.”
“The disadvantages are well worth the service. I have seen many years beyond my countrymen, experienced several generations of life, and, best of all, served the Guide most honorably.”
“You have, sir.” Barliss’ mind ticked away, wondering why the commander explained his duties to a lowly officer of the New Dawn. Was he dying? Barliss had thought the man was immortal. “Surely you’ll live to see the ship reach Paradise 21.”
“Dear Barliss,” the commander waved him closer. “My body is wasting away. Each month, these preservatives have less of an effect.” One gray-white eyebrow twitched up. “Which is why I’ve sent my attendants away and summoned you here.”
Barliss stood within arm’s reach, and yet the commander waved him closer still. He complied with awkward steps, careful not to crunch a wire or tube with his sand-crusted boots. No matter how many times he washed them, the red-orange grit wouldn’t go away. He stood so close, he could see the pink inflammation of the commander’s skin around each wire as it chaffed his head.
“Anything I can do to serve you, Commander.” Barliss tried to steady his voice, but he stumbled on each word.
The commander’s eyes shone bright with intensity. “I want you to follow in my footsteps and lead the New Dawn on its final push to Paradise 21.”
Shock hit Barliss, stinging him all over with numbness. The old man sat up in his chair expectantly, the wires pulled taut behind him.
“Sir?” Barliss questioned if he’d heard the commander correctly.
“Of course, you won’t have to plug in until you’re fully trained and even then you can disconnect to live your life as any normal man. It’s only in your later years you’ll be confined like me. There’s no pain, only a sense of greater meaning, a responsibility of purpose. It’s a big decision, one that will affect the rest of your life and lengthen it by threefold.” The commander raised his hand and waved it across the main sight panel as if he conducted the stars.
Barliss’ voice turned husky with wonderment. “I don’t know what to say. It’s a tremendous honor. There are many more officers above me that—”
“I’ve already chosen you. All you need to do is accept.”
The moment was surreal. Barliss felt like he was floating, unable to feel his feet touch the floor. The main control deck swirled around him, wires dancing around the
commander like snakes on a Medusa’s head. Doubt seeped in, tainting a moment that should have been blissful. The extent of his unworthiness overwhelmed him, spreading like a disease through his mind.
The commander peered into his eyes so deeply, Barliss thought the old man stared at his soul. Fearing what the commander might see, Barliss stepped back.
“I know you have doubts about your abilities, Lieutenant. I’ve seen the evil devils manifest all along. Yet you persevered where many others have failed, fighting your insecurities, challenging the confines of your own genetic code.”
He placed a paper-light hand on Barliss’ shoulder and pulled him close. Barliss found himself oddly steadied. “I look at you and I see someone who will beat the odds, someone who has sacrificed everything for his station, someone who will make the right decisions when the time comes.” The old man’s weak breath fell on Barliss’ cheek like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. “I believe in you, even if you don’t fully believe in yourself.”
A door opened in Barliss’ inner heart. He’d locked it long ago when his father had frowned in disappointment at his poor test scores in emotional intelligence. His parents had created him with the promise of all the best genes, and yet he’d come out lacking, and the old man had never let him live it down. He’d earned every small victory without anyone’s support and had worked his way up the chain of command by his own political savvy. Now the most important person in all humanity offered him the dream he’d always wanted.
Licking his dry lips, something changed inside him. His fragile slew of insecurities turned to a hardened edge of resolution. Barliss grasped the commander’s hand in his own and shook it lightly.
The commander gazed back at him with expectation, weariness wrinkling around his bright eyes.
This time Barliss didn’t cringe or flounder. He stood up, tall as a man newly knighted. “I accept.”
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