by Elliott Kay
“The Union Fleet already has personnel at your home, Mr. Geisler,” said Janeka. “We’ve taken care of your travel arrangements.”
* * *
“Your evacuation is nearly complete. You could let me go.”
“Yeah?”
“We have been here for hours. You must want to move. You have biological needs.”
Tanner sat where he’d been since the fight ended: on the floor behind the ring of obelisks, with a bloodied Amara wrapped in his arms. He still held the grenade in front of her. The activator still blinked. None of it had gotten any more comfortable over time. “Joke’s on you,” he croaked. “I took care of that before we came out here and now I’m dehydrated.”
Despite her injuries, Amara seemed as awake and alert as ever. Her arms still hung limp at her sides. The bleeding ended long ago. Apparently she could control that on her own. She’d already said plenty about the superiority of her current form to theirs. “Major Dylan could take over,” she suggested.
“I’m not taking an active grenade,” said Dylan, crouched low beside them. She kept her eyes on the entryway.
“You hardly need it. You have virtually all you wanted. I would gain little in harming you now.”
Tanner looked up to the image of Minos. Two more large freighters pulled away from orbital range. With their holds emptied for this flight and configured for internal layers, they might carry hundreds of thousands between them. Others were well on their way out of the system.
“There’s only one problem with that idea,” said Tanner.
“What?” Amara asked.
“You’re a fucking psycho and I don’t trust you.”
Amara seethed. “I’ll see you burn.”
“And you wonder why I don’t let you go,” said Tanner.
“I’ll see you burn and your own people will help.”
“I already live with that, too.”
“Of course you do. Your entire species fights itself. The others see it, too. You are hopelessly divided.”
“Yeah, kinda.” He yawned, entirely without pretense. “I should probably say some shit about diversity being our strength, but fascists never understand that so it’s a waste anyway.”
“Fascist? Is that what you think I am?” Amara scoffed.
“I’d probably have to work to string the comparison together in an essay. Considering I’m sitting here with a grenade, I feel like the academic rigor is a little relaxed right now.”
“We could gag her,” suggested Dylan. “Or both of you.”
“The Krokinthians were the same once,” said Amara. “Divided. Like you. Their divisions remained and hindered their development until one faction stamped out the rest. What you see now is the faction that survived.”
Tanner said nothing. Krokinthian monoculture had been a point of interest for everyone from scientists to diplomats since the early days of contact. The Kroks themselves never spoke of it.
“My people were much the same until I came to power,” she added. “Long ago. It’s a wonder yours ever made it to the stars as you are. You won’t survive long this way in the cosmos. One faction of your people will see it. One or another. They will see what I offer. What they can become. They will be the faction that survives. You may live to see their ascension, but you will not live to enjoy it.”
“Wow. You’re cheerful.”
“I am.”
“Malone, can you hear me?” asked a voice nearby. His eyes found the image of Beowulf’s flag bridge floating low over the console edge. “How are you doing?”
“Hanging in there, admiral,” he replied wearily.
“Good,” said Khatri. “We’re moving the final pieces now. There’s a small ship inbound to your location for retrieval. They’ll be on site in minutes.”
“No more humans will enter my sanctuary,” said Amara. “I will not allow it.”
“The ship can land in the canyon close to the entrance,” said Khatri. “We can accept transfer there. The area will be covered the entire time. Empress Amara, let me be clear: if your forces take further action against my people, we will retaliate. The Krokinthians will be the least of your concerns.”
“I could tell you the same,” Amara sneered.
“Very well. Major, Mr. Malone, your ride is en route. I suggest you be on your way.”
Dylan cleared her throat. “Amara, do you want to relay that to your people outside?”
“Do you think they heard none of this?” the empress said in disgust, but called to her warriors anyway. “Sentinels. Lower your weapons and keep a distance between us. The invaders are leaving.”
“Think you can walk?” Dylan asked.
“I’ll manage,” said Tanner. “Let’s go.”
They shuffled out. As Amara had ordered, the sentinels, Regents, and others all stayed back, though never too far out of sight. Dylan paused only to collect identification and holocoms from her fallen people along the way.
“You are shorter than I. We are both injured,” said Amara. “This pace is awkward.”
“Live with it,” grunted Tanner.
She didn’t complain again. They covered the long walk in silence, passing bodies and wreckage strewn along the corridor. The way out took much longer than the way in. Only daylight provided any sense of relief as they neared the end.
Sentinels and Regents awaited at either side of the exit.
“Tell them to back off,” said Dylan.
“I will not,” said Amara. “They stand guard against treachery. My people will not allow you to take me from them.”
Again, Tanner sighed. “Lady, I don’t want to take you anywhere. I just want to go home.”
She turned her head to sneer back at him. “You don’t have a home.”
“…You’ve got me there.”
“Enough of this shit,” grumbled Dylan. “Send them outside to guard if you need, but we stick to the plan. Nobody wants to kidnap you.”
“We both know you would gladly do so if you could, Major,” said Amara. “Kidnap or assassinate.”
“Tanner?”
Her silhouette stood in the middle of the open doorway with her longcoat billowing in the breeze. Her voice made him grin. She wasn’t alone. He recognized the other silhouettes without trouble, particularly by virtue of the large guns carried by one of her companions. “Something wrong?” called out Lynette. “We’re all ready to go.”
“Nothing at all. Same plan,” said Tanner. He lowered his voice. “Keep walking.”
The group moved slowly into the open. Skies choked with ash all night now held a thin layer of haze, letting in most of the natural sunlight. Sentinels and Regents lined the sides of the great door. Phoenix sat at the base of the ramp, guns extended from the joints at her wings.
Tanner’s eyes adjusted. Lynette and Val slowly backed down the earthen ramp, weapons in hand but not raised. Cervantes and Salgado from the yacht’s engineering crew walked with them. He knew who would be at the helm.
The crew slowly backed up, ever closer to the lowered ramp of the ship, giving room for the critical trio to come down. Everyone gave them space at the bottom of the earthen ramp. Dylan kept walking, turning only once she was under the bow of the yacht.
Tanner slipped away from Amara. He lowered the grenade to his side, but didn’t disarm the detonator until they parted. The empress held his gaze. “You will burn for this,” she said, and then turned away.
Half of the escort party moved up the ramp before he did. Lynette and Val followed him on board. Amara watched from the top of the earthen ramp.
“Sanjay, we’re in,” said Lynette. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“Phoenix is outside lunar orbit,” announced an officer. “All craft are clear from Minos.”
“Then we withdraw. Pull Java and the rest from their positions. We have our courses.” Khatri felt as weary as everyone else. No one on the bridge had left their stations for more than a few minutes since this began.
Her eyes ne
ver came off the screen. Java and her escorts pulled away from their face-off with the Krokinthian dreadnought and the bonded pod of Nyuyinaro by its side. The Minoan ships held their positions in orbit. “What do you expect?” she asked the man at her side.
“The Krokinthians were adamant,” said Young. “I don’t know about the Nyuyinaro. Caught in the middle, maybe?”
The Krokinthian dreadnought advanced. The Nyuyinaro trailed behind. Resolution came within seconds, as a trio of bright yellow rays burst from the planet to cut through the dreadnought in a single flash.
“Tactical?” Khatri asked.
“No survivors, ma’am,” answered one of her aides. As he spoke, the Nyuyinaro pod pulled away. “Barely even any debris at all.”
“Signal from the Nyuyinaro,” called another report. Khatri waved in answer. The pod turned back from the planet before vanishing from Beowulf’s screens.
“It is as we said,” came the artificial voice. “The people of Dust know us. They are ready for us. Soon, they will be ready for you.”
* * *
He kept the lights low. Nothing made a sound but the soft hum of the ship’s systems. Nothing was out of place. Nothing moved. Nothing threatened.
Tanner sat on the floor against Lynette’s bed. It felt more like a floor than a deck. More like a room than a cabin. He might feel differently later. The distinctions seemed important for now. He wore a loose shirt and shorts left behind after his first overnight stay. It had been her suggestion. The subtle hint of plans for more had meant the world to him.
Phoenix was in FTL after blasting halfway through the system alongside Beowulf and her escorts. After Elise saw to the wounds on his face and basically stabbed water and electrolyte nonsense into him. After picking up a last couple of refugees from the mountains with their dog. After talking on a point-to-point channel with Admiral Khatri, Ambassador Young, and a couple of officers from Union Fleet Intelligence. More of that awaited him when they came out of FTL. Debriefings and interviews and meetings until he would go blind.
This would be worse than anything he’d endured before. Aliens and an entire lost colony were a whole new level. He felt bad for Naomi and the rest of the class. Tanner at least had some experience being in the center of an interstellar fiasco and its aftermath. Antonio knew what it was like to be in the spotlight by virtue of sports stardom, but that was it. None of them could be prepared for what lay ahead.
They were all on Beowulf, also in FTL now. He’d gotten them out alive. All of them.
He’d managed that much.
A knock at the hatch pulled him from his thoughts. The wheel on the hatch turned before he said anything. Not for the first time, he thought about how much quieter and nicer all the little starship fixtures were on Phoenix than on the military vessels he’d known. Lynette poked her head inside before stepping through and closing the hatch behind her.
“You’re on the floor,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“There’s a bed behind you and a couch against the window and a chair at the desk.”
“I think you’re supposed to sit on the floor when you’re brooding. That’s how it works in the movies,” said Tanner.
“Are you brooding?”
“Maybe? I didn’t look up the definition to be sure.”
“Who are you and what have you done with the real Tanner Malone?”
“Are we okay?” Tanner asked.
“Seems like it. We’re in FTL. Didn’t take a single solid hit in the whole fight. The snipes went over every little thing to make sure the ship’s okay. Nobody’s hurt. Oh, and I got a message from Gunny Janeka, of all people. She said, ‘Please tell that moron to write to me and don’t worry about implicating me in anything,’ so I guess she’s okay.”
“I mean us.”
“I came all the way out to goddamn Minos to see you,” she chuckled. “Dragged my whole crew with me, too.”
“Yeah. I figured you might be pissed at having to do that.” He shrugged. “Seems like the sort of thing I shouldn’t take for granted.”
Her lips twitched. “I am a little concerned that you went to such extremes to keep me from seeing the mess in your apartment.”
Tanner laughed. “Y’know, I was behind on the laundry and the dishes, and I thought…” He shook his head. “You’re beautiful. It’s ridiculous. I don’t know how long you’ve been up. You went through a space battle and an evacuation crisis. You aren’t even dolled up at all and you’re still hot.”
“You’re saying that because you know I’ve got the nicest bed on the ship.”
“As tired as I am, I could sleep in a chair in the galley.”
“Oh God, you must actually mean it, then,” Lynette grumbled. She sank down onto the floor beside him, leaning against his arm. “How are you?”
“Aside from all the obvious stuff? At some point I’m gonna break down into sobbing tears. It won’t be pretty. That’s not sarcasm, either.”
“You won’t be the only one,” said Lynette. “It still hasn’t all sunk in yet.”
“No. But it will.”
“So if that’s later, what’s now?”
Tanner looked past his knees. Past the wall. Lyn knew the weird ways people processed stress and violence. She wouldn’t judge. “Nobody’s ever going to hire me.”
“What?”
“My name and my face are all over every book and documentary about the war. NorthStar and a whole lot of other angry rich assholes do all they can to remind everyone how many people I killed. I can’t go a whole year of college without finding my way into the middle of a massive crisis. Can’t even hold down an apartment without blowing it up. Planetary survey work isn’t like running a coffee shop. Even the smaller outfits need charters and backing and financing and careful vetting.” Tanner shook his head. “Hell, I’d be lucky to get a job in a decent coffee shop. Everything I touch explodes.”
“I think this qualifies as brooding,” said Lynette.
“Cool.”
“Tanner,” she began.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he muttered.
She sighed. “I don’t know about ‘ever,’ but yeah. It’s gonna be tough. You didn’t bring this on yourself or anyone, though. You didn’t put the bad guys there.”
“’Sure, he’s qualified, but is he worth the risk?’” Tanner asked in a mock voice. “’Even if it’s not all his fault, isn’t it strange how he’s always there? Do we want to be associated with him?’ I get demonstrations while going to class. Picket signs. Graffiti. Eggs.”
“You’re also a goddamn hero, and lots of people know it. When shit goes bad, they’ll want you there,” said Lynette. “But I hear you.”
“Know what the worst part is?” He shook his head. “The worst part is all the innocents dead and lives destroyed, obviously, but…. The class was rough. The professor was a dick to me, and now I feel like I kinda know why, but it was rough. Most of the students kept me at arm’s length. Then suddenly there was an actual bad guy and the shooting started and I knew I’d be alright. I knew how to deal with it. Didn’t know I’d live through it, but I was okay with that. I knew I’d be alright. So what’s that say about me?”
“It says you know who you are when it counts.”
Tanner snorted. “Honest to God, even with the professor being an ass, I was learning a lot. I seriously thought about changing my major.” Lynette laughed, drawing a grin out of him. “It’s true. Digging around trying to figure everything out. Seeing how people developed on a whole ‘nother planet. It was cool. Oh.” He reached for the discarded filthy pants nearby to pull a small, crumpled box from one pocket. “This is for you.”
She opened the box. Black diamond-shaped stones polished to gleaming sat pinned to a small piece of felt. “You got me earrings?”
“Yeah. It’s Minoan obsidian. I don’t know if you’d ever wear black earrings, but I wanted to get you something. Turns out I only had the one chance to shop in the capital.”
“You kn
ew that planet was about to explode,” said Lynette. “You told all your classmates to get ready to evacuate. You fought your way through all that nonsense… and you had earrings in your pocket for me the whole time.”
“I was afraid they’d be tacky,” he said.
“We’re fine,” she interrupted, smiling. “You and I are better than fine.”
“Even if I make things explode all the time?”
“We’ve made two covert gun runs into Hashem on this ship under contract with the Ministry of Intelligence. I don’t get to throw stones.”
“Shit.”
“You know what I’m like.”
“Yeah.”
“Tanner. What do you want to do?” She leaned forward, turning her head to look at more of his face. “What do you want to do about school and all the rest?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what the university will say, or even when we’ll get back. And I have no idea what happens after that. Except…”
“…what?” Lynette prodded gently.
“She was right. Amara. That stuff I said in the debrief. Someone’s gonna make a side deal with her. Somebody’s gonna be that fucking greedy and that fucking dumb. There’s always someone. The only reason it never happened with the Noonies or the Kroks is because they don’t play like that. But the Minoans? This shit is only beginning. People are gonna wish I took her out.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because it was the only way to save all those people. And because I would’ve died, too, and I want my fucking life,” he grumbled.
“Good, then. Me, too.”
“I’m just saying. Shit still gets bad from here. Maybe it’s a ways off. Maybe not.”
“Can I make a suggestion? Or an offer?” asked Lynette. “Come work with me. I’ll hire you.”
He didn’t need to ask if she was serious. “This is an Archangel ship. I can’t go home.”
“Eh. We can get around that. Technically you were never charged with anything.”
“Yet. And partly because I left.”
“So we’ll deal with that if it happens.”
“How?”