by Josi Russell
“Then what am I paying you for?” Marcos paced, agitated, around the room.
“Your scrip doesn’t buy us super powers, Mr. Saras.” Her voice was acidic.
Marcos stepped closer to her. “I want answers. You’d better be able to show me that you’ve got doctors on this around the clock.”
“Of course we do,” Zuma snapped. He saw her hesitate, then she looked him defiantly in the eye. “Do you truly want answers, Mr. Saras? I’ll give you answers. Our preliminary findings suggest, Mr. Saras, that something in or near the mines is making these people sick.”
Marcos felt himself flinch as if she’d slapped him. He collected himself, sucking in a breath and letting it out very slowly. He met Zuma’s gaze.
“That is not a statement you should be tossing around carelessly,” he warned. “In fact, I never want to hear it again. The mines have cutting-edge technology to detect hazards. None of them have reported anything out of the ordinary.”
“But Mr. Saras, you don’t—”
He didn’t let her finish. “This is non-negotiable. If you want to remain my head of pathology,—in fact, if you enjoy practicing medicine on Minea at all—I won’t ever hear that allegation again.” He stepped menacingly toward Zuma. “Keep looking. It’s not my mines, Dr. Zuma.” It was less an opinion than a command.
She stood still and quiet, and then she spoke. “If I had known back on Earth that the job awaiting me was not medicine but acting and cover-up, I’m not sure I would have come to Minea.”
Veronika scoffed, toying with her ruby pendant, and spoke up. “Nobody knew exactly what it would be like here. But it’s a long way home, Dr. Zuma. And you probably ought to remember that the other colonies have their own contingents of doctors. If we find it necessary to fire you, you won’t have a good reference from Saras company.” Veronika leaned in, confidentially. “Regardless of your skills or education, you’ll be in the mines or the refineries just like your patients. Your family will be just as hungry, your living conditions just as crowded. You see, every day, where that leads.” Veronika swept her hand wide, indicating the floors of people struck with Minean Fever that lay just outside Zuma’s office door. “That’s not really an option, is it?”
Marcos saw Zuma’s defiance crumble. She nodded briefly. Veronika was adept at getting what she wanted. He stepped in to lighten the mood.
“Great,” Marcos said. “You’ll continue working on a cure, I’m sure. The sooner the better. I’m glad we were able to chat.”
Zuma sunk onto the exam table. He knew this was not the adventure she had signed on for. But her job was secure and fulfilling, her house was comfortable, and her groceries were delivered every Thursday without fail. He couldn’t allow her to think things here were tougher than they were. Back home she would have had difficult administrators to deal with, too. Back home there would have been mysteries to solve and patients she would lose. He shook her hand and turned toward the door. From the corner of his eye he saw Veronika reach to shake the doctor’s hand as well.
When she drew back her hand, Marcos saw she had left Zuma holding a small silver vial. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but Veronika strode past him, out the door, and by the time he had fumbled his mask into place she was halfway down the hall.
When he caught up to her, she looked him in the eye. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to,” she said sharply. “But you always know I’m looking out for Saras Company.”
She didn’t say, “You know you can trust me,” or “You know I’m looking out for you,” and Marcos wasn’t sure what her answer meant for him, personally. But he did know that plausible deniability went a long way with the UEG, so he bit back his questions.
Chapter 26
Though the dawn was breaking across the river and Ethan wanted to run as fast as he could out of the cave, he waited at the top of the Yynium staircase to help the crew get out. Brynn and Maggie were the last to come up.
Brynn was walking very close to Maggie. When Ethan reached out to steady the two women, Brynn seemed to trip and lunged savagely forward, toward Maggie. Ethan, knowing Maggie was still too unsteady to catch her, stepped between them, reaching for Brynn. He felt a sharp pain in his side as her weight hit him and figured he must have pulled a muscle. That would make crossing the river and running for home a bit more uncomfortable.
Brynn pulled back from him. He couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed that she’d tripped or if she was angry that he’d caught her instead of letting Maggie. But he was glad he did or both women could have fallen back down into the pit. And now they were walking, all five of them, out of the cave and into the growing sunlight of dawn. He reached around and rubbed the sore spot on his ribcage as his eyes played across the surface of the water.
He thought he heard someone call his name.
That’s when he saw her. Aria was coming towards him on a boat, looking like a goddess with the wind in her hair. She jumped out before the boat was all the way to the bank and waded through the river calling his name. He went to her.
He held her without breathing, soaking in her hair against his face, her arms around his chest, her voice repeating, “Ethan, Ethan. You’re alive. You’re alive.” And, lost in the rhythm of her, he closed his eyes and felt himself falling.
***
Aria had not known Hank was nearby until he was there beside her, helping the two dark men from the survey crew lift Ethan into the boat.
Aria’s head was spinning, and Hank threw an arm around her shoulders. She was enveloped in the pungent aroma of pine and dirt that always accompanied him. “He’s likely dehydrated and sunsick. You get him back to the city,” Hank said. “He’ll be all right.”
She looked at the strange man who had taught her so much. She didn’t know if she’d see him or the other Evaders again.
“Tell them we found him,” she said.
“I will.” Hank smiled encouragingly.
“And tell them thank you.”
One of the men who’d staggered out of the mine stepped up to take the pole and maneuver them onto the water. Aria waved to direct him down the river, toward home. She was grateful to him as she sat in the bottom of the boat with Ethan’s head in her lap. She couldn’t believe that he was in her arms, and she was paralyzed by the terror she felt at his collapse. She wished Luis were here, or Kaia. She tried to calm her fears and sent a message to both of them, letting them know he’d been found.
Glancing up, she saw that she was surrounded by strangers. The little boat was full to capacity with the quiet, weary crew. But they loved Ethan, too. They didn’t speak, but she saw it in the way their eyes lingered on Ethan’s still form. One of them began to sing, a hopeful, but somber, song in a language Aria had never heard. She hoped Ethan could hear it.
Chapter 27
Kaia saw from the set of her father’s jaw that the Asgre had finally crossed a line. They had gone to Coriol and dropped devices from their ship, scattering them throughout the city. Upon receiving the news, Reagan and Kaia, along with a large contingent of the defense force from Lumina led by Sergeant Nile, boarded Champion and went directly to Coriol.
It was the first night they’d spent at home in their cottage. Though Kaia didn’t miss the bare walls and thin mattresses of the barracks they’d stayed in at Lumina, the alien ship sweeping over the city robbed even their home of its feeling of security. She got little sleep that night, keeping watch out her bedroom window and listening to her father’s snoring in his room downstairs. She was relieved when morning came and they left for the base.
They had a full debriefing that lasted most of the morning. By the time it was done, the devices had been collected from around the city and teams had begun analyzing what they were and what dangers they posed.
As she followed her father into the lab at Coriol Defense Headquarters, Kaia realized she’d left her missive back at the cottage. She didn’t use it much, but there was a certain security in having it with her. As
they entered the lab she saw a tech team bent over a smooth white table. In the center of the table was a piece of alien tech.
The metal emitted a smoky odor, and Kaia blinked as it stung her eyes.
“What is it?” Reagan barked.
Kaia was guessing a measuring device.
“An instrument of some sort. It was transmitting readings before we disabled it.”
She’d been right, then. She smiled a little. “What does it measure?” she asked.
“We don’t know yet. Maybe surface radiation, maybe air quality, maybe some element we don’t even know about. It’s alien tech.” Kaia heard the excitement in the technician’s voice and couldn’t blame him. Reagan heard it, too, and she could tell he was less enamored with the idea.
“Don’t forget that we’re here to make sure these things aren’t going to hurt anyone.” He said gruffly. “If you find out what it does, I want to know immediately.”
He walked out before they had a chance to answer.
Kaia’s head was spinning. She felt a bit weak after all the excitement of the last few days, and the ship above the city set her on edge more than she had anticipated. The summer air hummed with expectancy. Something big was coming. She felt it.
Military personnel flowed around them in the narrow corridor. Many of them had swirling purple bruises on their forearms and necks. They looked afraid. Though she had on her thought blocker and she couldn’t hear their minds, those first few months on Coriol came back to her, when she and Ethan were so overwhelmed with the constant thoughts of everyone around them. Now, she felt their presence as an overwhelming weight, hanging above her, waiting to crush her if she were to lose her thought blocker. Her breathing was shallow. She wished for Ethan, wished for his calming presence. He was the only one who really understood her, on every level. But Ethan was gone.
Her father was looking at her strangely. “You’d better get some rest,” he said. “You’re worn out.” She didn’t argue. “Go home. Eat something. Sleep a while. I’ll let you know if anything important happens.”
Kaia looked at him. She looked at the people swarming through the building. She needed to be alone. Nodding, she walked out into the sticky Coriol air to catch a hovercab home.
***
Aria watched Ethan for signs of improvement. He had been home almost a full day and there was no change. The doctor had no theories about what was robbing him of his consciousness. Aria could not—would not—believe that she had regained him only to lose him again to this mysterious illness.
She watched as he lay in their bed. Ethan still flinched like he’d been struck when the light fell on his face, so Aria had draped the windows with heavy blankets. The jingle of her missive brought him nightmares. He cried out. So she had stashed the missive in a drawer downstairs after the third time his new friends from the survey crew called to check on him.
When she sat with him she talked to him. She told him about the children, about the plants, about Kaia’s departure for Lumina and about the mysterious ship above the city. And she talked about her love for him, because his love was what always pulled her out of her own stasis nightmares.
“I have waited every day to see you come through that door,” she said quietly. “Every day, Ethan.” She slipped her hand under the heavy press of his unmoving hand. “I don’t care how I got you back. It only matters that you’re here.”
She knew he was still in there. He did respond, sometimes. He tensed whenever she left the room, and she saw the strain of it on his face when she returned.
“I’m here, Ethan,” she said quietly. “I’m not leaving. You’ll never be alone again.”
She smoothed the knots of his dark hair, trying to see through the dark to the familiar lines of his face. She lay beside him and moved closer. Only when she wrapped her arms around him did she feel his body relax. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Later, she shaved the curly beard from his face, finding him again beneath its wild tangle. Gently, she removed the thought blocker, sending her thoughts willingly to him, hoping they would reach into the darkness and pull him back.
She washed him, running a warm cloth over his cheeks, over his forehead, over his neck and shoulders, rinsing it again and again as layers of cave dirt came away. It was then that she saw the marks: three pinpricks in a triangle, slightly bruised, hidden on his side just under his elbow. He was covered with strange scrapes, so she wasn’t sure what it was about this one that disturbed her so much. She put a bandage over it and reminded herself to ask the doctor about it.
Aria was downstairs when she was startled by frantic pounding on the door. When she opened it, she found Kaia. The message had finally reached her.
“He’s home?” Kaia’s voice was breathless, unbelieving. Aria nodded.
Kaia didn’t hesitate. Aria followed her to Ethan’s side.
Aria watched as the frail old woman stroked his hair and his cheek.
“Oh, Ethan.” Her words fell as soft as leaves. Aria saw her slip off her thought blocker and felt a surge of hope. But Kaia turned and caught her eye in the dim light, shaking her head softly. Even she couldn’t hear him.
They stayed at his side, unmoving, speaking softly to him and to each other, until evening, when the Saras Company doctor arrived to check on him again. Saras was, Aria was sure, less worried about his health than about their liability and Ethan’s role in the Colony Offices. Later that evening, Saras also sent a psychiatrist, who had just come from evaluating the members of the survey crew who had been with Ethan.
He said that the strain of the ordeal had fractured their sense of reality. He said they’d had hallucinations in the cave. It was likely, he said, that Ethan was suffering from a breakdown.
But Kaia scoffed at that. “Ethan has been through much more than that,” Kaia said, her voice rough with emotion. “Five years in space didn’t break him. Genetic manipulation at the hands of aliens didn’t break him. What makes you think that a few weeks underground would break him?”
Aria didn’t want to say it, but she was afraid he had broken. She heard him last night calling the names of the people whose bodies remained in the cave.
After the doctor left the cottage, she tried to explain it. “They didn’t all make it, Kaia. He still feels like the Caretaker—of us, of Coriol, of that survey team—and they didn’t all make it. He lost over half of them.”
Kaia quieted, but she still clung to Ethan’s hand. “He’s stronger than this, whatever it is,” she finally said.
Kaia stayed another full day, then her missive buzzed. She was needed at the base.
Aria walked her to the door and they embraced. Kaia caught Aria’s gaze with her gray eyes. “Take care of him,” she said.
Aria closed the door and leaned against it. The weight of Kaia’s words settled on her. She felt her bravery melting and she imagined Ethan on the ship all those years. She imagined him holding all those lives in his hands, going on even though he didn’t know if he would ever see her awake again. Now it was her turn to be the caretaker, and she didn’t know if she could do it.
Chapter 28
Reagan had gathered the whole UEG fleet—all six battleships and the smaller company ships—to Coriol. The time to watch and wait was over. He was leaving the company ships to watch Galo’s ship above the city and taking his battleships into orbit to assess the rest of the alien fleet. He wanted to see these orbiting ships for himself, and show them that the best of Minea’s defenses were not afraid to engage. Perhaps just knowing they were willing to fight would scare the aliens away.
The aliens had never responded directly to their hails. Though they had announced their presence and stated their supposed purpose in each city, they had not complied with requests and had not communicated over the hailing frequency the humans opened for the purpose.
Reagan walked beside his daughter onto Champion’s bridge with a strange sense of calm. Though he did not know what was coming and he did not know his enemy, he knew these s
hips and he knew his troops.
The commander’s chair stood empty, waiting for him. He gestured Kaia to a seat near the comms table and noted her buckling in before he hailed the six other ships preparing to launch. Images of their captains appeared like playing cards on his comms screen.
“We’re taking these birds up as a unit. I don’t know what the Asgre will do, but we don’t want them picking us off one by one. We move together until we’re in orbit, then, if there’s not an immediate threat, we’ll group and move to defensive positions. If, as I suspect, we’ve got an Asgre welcoming party up there, then warp to your safety coordinates and we’ll try to come in behind them. We’ll rendezvous at 2600.”
“How many ships are we facing, commander?” asked Nieman, the relatively new captain of Vigilant.
Reagan shook his head. “At last count, fifteen. But they’re appearing all over up there. I don’t know how many there will be by the time this is over.”
The other, more experienced captains kept their mouths shut. They had trained for this, and he felt from them an almost impatient anxiousness to get it started, whatever was going to happen.
Six ships. Nearly fifty times that many lives. He glanced at Kaia. Perhaps bringing her along had been a bad idea. Reagan dismissed that thought and ordered the launch.
Reagan saw them through the observation windows surrounding him as each ship lifted from its secure place on the ground. Five sleek ships around him, rising like steam from the liftstrip. He smiled wryly as he noticed the difference in the captains evident in their ships’ ascents. Unity, captained by veteran Halo Moscovy, shot straight up, unwavering and putting all she had into the launch. Moscovy didn’t wait around for anything, barely even orders.
Tenacious went up a couple hundred swift meters at a time, pausing briefly as its captain, Brus Travers, checked the situation before proceeding.