Zenith

by Sasha Alsberg

  “I haven’t seen one of these in forever,” Valen said.

  He stopped and ran his hands across one of the flags, the purple and white colors a striking resemblance to Andi’s hair.

  “Oh, they’re all over the galaxy now,” Andi said. “Especially in the last couple years, as people are growing more optimistic that Xen Ptera won’t ever retaliate again. The peace treaty holds that hope in place, but their silence has also had a part in it. You must have missed the trend while you were...” She trailed off, frowning.

  “It’s alright,” Valen said with a shrug. “You can talk about my time away. It’s as much a part of me as my scars are.”

  His eyes fell on Andi’s wrists, where her sleeve had ridden up to reveal the marks left over from her accident with Kalee. Even with her cuffs, they were still obvious. She reached to tug her sleeves down, wishing she could take the marks from her skin and hide any evidence that might break the strange peace she and Valen had found.

  Mercifully, he looked back to the flags hanging from the booth.

  “They deserved to be removed from this flag,” he said suddenly, his voice acidic, and Andi assumed he was talking about Xen Ptera. “Millions of people died in that war.”

  The altered flag was a universal screw you to the entire Olen System, displayed on dashboards of starships, hung in windows, tattooed on the backs of old, wrinkled soldiers who had long since retired.

  The design on the flag had always been more or less the same, but when the Unified Systems won the war, what had once been five lines became four, signaling Olen’s split from the Unified Systems.

  Andi was very young during the last year of the war, the worst of the fear having passed her by in her youth, and the sparkling, wealthy haze that Arcardius gave off. She didn’t live in constant fear the way that many of the other planets had during the last days of the war.

  But she’d never forget the day the official removal of the Olen System was broadcasted across the galactic feeds, never forget the sound of her parents cheering instead of mourning when Olen was cast out. She’d never known life without Olen being a dark mark on the edges of Mirabel, an entire system that had exploded into acts of terror when the Unified Systems couldn’t help them save their dying planet fast enough.

  Survival of the fittest had been a saying passed on since the time of the Ancients, and there was so much truth behind those words. Olen wasn’t fit, so they didn’t survive. Andi believed Olen’s act of war was a last, desperate attempt to get what they wanted. Sadly, it didn’t turn out well for them. Even before The Cataclysm, Xen Ptera had been a weak planet, long bereft of resources.

  Now it was shattered, hanging on to life support as it faded away.

  “Let’s go,” Valen said.

  He turned away, casting a final scowl over his shoulder at the flags waving in the wind.

  As they walked on, Andi let her mind sink into a calm state of observance. There was no goal here, no mission to accomplish, no reward on the line. For once, she could simply be.

  She stepped over two kids playing a board game in the dirt. One of them had scales like Lira, which lit up brightly in a summertime yellow. Her friend, a muscular girl who looked a bit like Breck, giggled as they threw the dice at each other instead of playing the game. Such pure innocence made her smile, until she heard their voices a little more clearly.

  “You’re the Xen Pterran. I’m the Arcardian fleetmaster.”

  “I don’t want to be the Xen Pterran! That means I’ll lose!”

  A woman appeared from the tent behind the kids, telling them both not to speak of such an awful place on such a celebratory day.

  As the crowd swept forward, she allowed it to swallow them up, carrying the bad memories away.

  * * *

  Before joining the dancers, Andi bought each of them a mug of Jurum. It was a famous drink on Adhira that was said to make its drinker forget their troubles. It sounded too good to be true, but Andi had had plenty of experience with Jurum.

  “You sure about this?” Valen asked her, sniffing the glittering, bubbling liquid in his mug.

  Andi nodded. “Yes. But don’t drink as much as Lira does. She’s a bit of a pro when it comes to Jurum, actually.”

  She took a gulp. When the drink touched her tongue, the sickly sweet taste turned smooth, like liquid heaven.

  The instant effects were blissful, and Andi welcomed them with open arms. Her vision was enhanced, everything more vibrant and alive than it had been seconds before, making the whole festival pop with color, as if she were looking through a kaleidoscope.

  The world became beautiful around her, all darkness swept away.

  Valen took another sip from his mug. “It’s so...”

  “Lovely,” Andi whispered. Her voice echoed and rippled like a droplet falling into water, and she laughed as she downed the rest of her mug.

  She thought she could feel the ground breathe beneath her feet, hear the distant towering trees laugh with happiness, feel the spiral rock mounds sigh from high above the desert sand. The world was alive.

  “Come on,” Valen said. He faded into the crowd of dancers twirling in time, and as they moved, Andi had to question if her feet were even touching the ground anymore.

  She felt weightless.

  Like a starship made of glass.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  * * *

  DEX

  DEX SAT ON the edges of the crowd, watching the dancers and enjoying the feel of two mugs of Jurum thrumming through his bloodstream.

  This was the type of place he lived for. Dancing women, so beautiful and full of life that he should have been desperate to join the crowd. He’d been asked several times to dance, once even by a woman who’d even offered to buy him a mug of Jurum as she approached him on the edge of the crowd.

  She could have been the woman of his dreams. But tonight...Dex didn’t care.

  In truth, all he cared about was catching a glimpse of Andi in the crowd.

  Andi, with her “stab you in the balls and laugh at you as you scream” eyes.

  Andi, who flung insults as sharp as her electric swords.

  Andi, who’d stolen his heart and later his ship.

  Andi, whom he’d betrayed.

  Andi, Andi, Andi. Her name echoed through his mind like a flock of Adhiran siren birds.

  “Crap,” Dex muttered.

  Something was truly wrong with him. Maybe he’d fallen ill. Maybe Alfie had given him too strong of a painkiller when the AI had patched him up on the ship a few days before.

  Or maybe, an obnoxious voice in the back of Dex’s mind whispered, being back here, on the planet where you once had the luxury of being Androma’s, is screwing with your brain.

  Dex shook his head. He’d been on land for far too long. Once he was back on board his ship, locked in close quarters with Androma Racella, he’d come to his senses again and realize she had absolutely no interest in a future with him.

  He had hoped that telling her the truth about what happened years ago would help mend the break between them. That they could start over—maybe they’d never again share the intimacy they once had, but perhaps they could have become friends.

  But since their conversation, Andi had done her best to avoid him. He hadn’t pushed her. He knew she needed time to process the truth, and perhaps she’d never forgive him.

  Perhaps true forgiveness—a resurrection of their past—would never come.

  Dex shook his head and turned his attention to his third mug of Jurum for the first time since he’d bought it. He’d been too busy with his stupid, traitorous thoughts to pay attention to what was really important to him.

  Getting star-blindingly drunk.

  Right as he lifted it to his lips, the liquid having long since stopped bubbling, his gaze drifted to the dance floor that was slowly ex
panding into a circle. Dancers swayed left and right, clapping and stomping their feet to the steadily growing beat.

  As they twirled and parted into halves, Dex caught a flash of white and purple hair. A woman with her arms raised to the sky, her hips swaying like they were rocking in time with a hidden current.

  His heart eased a bit at knowing where Andi was.

  As if that mattered. He didn’t care. He knew he didn’t care, and yet his mind—which he was absolutely certain was malfunctioning now—was tricking him into thinking that he did.

  “Idiot,” Dex murmured into his mug before downing the contents in a single chug. He knew he’d regret it tomorrow when he woke up.

  Androma.

  Her name whispered into his mind. Past the Jurum, past the wall he’d tried to build up.

  He saw for the first time that she was the main spectacle the circle had been formed for. This Andi was so unlike the one he knew. She glided across the sand as if it were a polished dance floor. She spun in circles and twirled through the air, landing lightly as a feather. Her arms and legs performed dances of their own, flowing with the wind that fluttered through the desert.

  She was sound and wind and movement. The elements that made up the world were hers to command.

  And in this moment, he could see only her.

  The rest was background noise.

  Dex watched as she swayed forward and grabbed a hand in the crowd, bringing the observer into her dancing spell. Though his mind felt stuffed with cotton, Dex could still register the annoyance he felt upon seeing that the person was Valen.

  The pretty little package all tied up like a bow, ready to be delivered to General Cortas.

  Valen seemed cast in a shroud of undulating shadows as she danced around him. He stood there in a trance of his own, eyes glazed over, body barely rocking to the music.

  The crew joined them, Breck and Gilly and Lira laughing as they danced around Andi.

  She laughed with them.

  The sound of it made Dex’s blood sing, but the laugh hadn’t been for him, and at the thought of that, fury raced through him, shocking him like a spark of fire.

  Damn it all to hell and back.

  Even with his head muddled by Jurum, Dex couldn’t blame the intoxicating brew for what he knew he was about to do.

  Tonight, he was going to be an idiot.

  He would deal with the repercussions tomorrow.

  He moved forward on instinct, breaking through the crowd, their cheers roaring against him.

  “Andi.” His voice was a low, purring whisper. Smooth as the Jurum running through his veins.

  She wasn’t his—never truly had been, and never would be.

  That was what undid him.

  She didn’t see him approach at first, but when she spun around, she stopped, gaze transfixed on him. Valen’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, then another, until he faded away into the crowd.

  “Dex,” Andi said.

  At first Dex thought she was going to punch him for interrupting her show.

  He braced himself for the impact, readied himself for a fight, despite the warmth running through him, the ground undulating beneath his feet like rocking waves. But instead of curling her fists, Andi did the complete opposite.

  She ran to him, leaping the last few steps into his waiting arms.

  “Dance with me,” she whispered, her breath tickling his lips.

  Her words were full of such passion, Dex almost fell.

  Her lips were so close as she pressed her body against his.

  “Andi,” Dex breathed her name like a sigh. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  And yet as he held her in his arms, pressing her tightly to his chest, he didn’t want to let go. There wasn’t any space between them, and he reveled in their closeness, in the familiarity of it, the strong sense of balance between the two of them that had always made them so great.

  “We should,” she said.

  So long, he’d wanted this without even knowing.

  His mind screamed at him to stop, that she wasn’t thinking straight, but his body hungered for more. She was looking at him like she used to, long ago. Her fingers were digging into his back.

  The world around them fell away. The past disappeared, swept away in an instant.

  Just before their lips touched, the desert exploded in a blast of fire and light.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  * * *

  ANDROMA

  SCREAMS, WROUGHT WITH terror, rang out across the Sands of Bailet.

  Time seemed to snap back together, a band of rubber popping into place.

  Bodies began dropping around her, people fleeing from the crowd as masked figures appeared, rifles firing. They bore a strange symbol painted on their weapons, their red helmets and battered armor.

  Something Andi had seen before.

  Something she knew she should know, but there was a thickness still blocking her mind, like water drowning her brain.

  Someone screamed and fell to the ground beside her.

  It was a young Adhiran man with eyes as blue as the Endless Sea. A scaled patch shimmered weakly on his cheek as he gasped, pressing his hands to his chest.

  “Lon?” Andi heard her Second say.

  Lira fell on top of her brother, shouting his name, begging him to stay with her, pressing her hands against his chest.

  Dex yanked Andi to the sand, covering her body with his as the crowd erupted into ear-shattering screams.

  It was enough to clear Andi’s head, rip the veil away, as she looked up, suddenly remembering the origin of the symbol on the rifles.

  After fifteen years of peace, the Xen Pterrans had come to take their revenge.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  * * *

  VALEN

  VALEN DROPPED TO the ground and crawled blindly, feeling as if the world had sprouted claws and the sand around him had begun to turn into stone.

  He had to get back to Arcardius.

  He couldn’t go back to Lunamere.

  The festival began to fade from his sight. An image of cell doors took its place, stained with the black burn marks of electric whips.

  The sky disappeared, replaced by the image of a cold, unbreakable stone ceiling.

  Every gunshot was like a whip lashing down on Valen’s back.

  There were a thousand feet running past him, flashes of bodies sprinting past, tangled up in explosive screams as bullets ricocheted through the crowd.

  He couldn’t see the Marauders. He couldn’t see Dex.

  A soldier sprinted up to him, clad in armor, the Xen Pterran crest splayed on his chest.

  The soldier lifted his rifle. Time slowed. Valen saw the soldier’s gloved fingertip stretching toward the trigger, and in Valen’s mind, he saw it all as if he were lying on cold, frozen stones, darkness closing in around him like a dense fog, the flash of a blue whip about to rip into his skin.

  Valen lifted his head, forced his lips to stop quivering as he looked to where he thought the man’s eyes were, beyond his mask, as his finger reached the trigger.

  “No!” Valen shouted. “No! Not me!”

  He closed his eyes and waited for the shot. But instead, a body brushed past his.

  Valen opened his eyes, and the soldier was gone.

  You have to move, Valen, his mind begged him.

  He crawled forward in the sand, closing his eyes when his hands felt the sticky wetness of blood, ignoring the press of his skin against someone else’s, clammier and colder than it should have been.

  He begged himself to stay focused, to stay present, but the world was spinning, a planet cast free from its axis, and he couldn’t keep himself in control.

  He found a booth empty of its keeper, a severed tentacle arm splayed on the dirt floor. A smea
r of blood pooled across the suction cups. Beside it a golden droid lay motionless, torso blasted open and silver liquid oozing out.

  Valen was about to crawl inside and hide himself in the darkness when a scream rang out with his name.

  “Valen!”

  He turned to see her.

  Androma Racella, cutting through the chaos like the sharp edge of a knife, her blades swinging as they took down soldiers. Her crew followed behind her, Dex’s white constellation tattoos seeming to squirm across his skin as he ran, Breck hoisting an Adhiran man over her shoulder. The pilot, Lira, screamed and sobbed as she followed, her skin illuminated by bright purple scales, smoking in the night. In front of them, the smallest crew member held a stolen rifle in her arms.

  One shot. The blast of a light bullet soaring from the chamber.

  A Xen Pterran dropped in front of them, and Gilly leaped over his fallen form, dropped to a knee and aimed again.

  Another shot, a second bullet set free, a whistle that soared just past Valen’s head.

  Behind him, a body dropped.

  All Valen could hear was the hiss and crackle of Andi’s blades. With each soldier who fell in their way as Andi came to get him, Valen winced.

  “I am Valen,” he whispered. “I am Valen, I am Valen.”

  Again, he saw the world flash from bleeding stone walls to the terrorized Adhiran desert and back. He shut his eyes and rocked back and forth, back and forth, until a hand gripped his shoulder, trying to shake him from his trance.

  “Valen!”

  Andi’s voice, but behind that the sound of explosions, gunshots, more screams. Her crackling swords like Lunamere whips that wanted a taste of his burned skin.

  Hands ripped him from the ground, forced him to his feet. He opened his eyes to see Andi staring at him, blood splatters staining her face, her hair. Her mouth was moving, but he couldn’t make out her words.