Sword of Blue (Tales of a Dying Star Book 3)

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Sword of Blue (Tales of a Dying Star Book 3) Page 2

by David Kristoph


  But when he looked back Katy was gone from the doorway. All resolve disappeared from Charlie's heart.

  And the guard was there, reaching for him.

  Thinking fast, he pushed down a row of seated students and dropped into an empty chair, the only empty chair in the first few rows. He tried to relax his face, to slow the pounding in his chest. The guard watched him a moment longer from the aisle before returning to his post.

  "These soldiers," Jayce continued, "were the best the Academy could offer. Many more were just as skilled as they, but cannot be here because they've paid the ultimate price." He waved his hand in front of his face, a sign of prayer to the Emperor. The students mimicked him obediently. A few of the soldiers copied the sign, but many more remained still.

  Charlie slumped in his seat. The mission was aborted. It didn't make sense. They'd spent weeks planning this, preparing every detail. Did they think he couldn't do it? Onero seemed confident in him, when they'd met the day before. And Katy saw that he was in the aisle, close to completion. Why abort now?

  Katy. Why did it have to be her? he thought miserably. They could have sent anyone. Katy giving him the signal made everything worse.

  "These men trained and practiced," Jayce said, "but that can only go so far. True combat experience is what's required, not hours in a simulator. And as such, the Admiral has deemed it necessary to begin a new flight program, giving students the experience they need alongside their normal studies. Beginning next year..."

  Charlie couldn't sit there any longer, not after coming so close. The students in his row muttered annoyance as he again shuffled past them and back to the aisle. The guard at the front stepped forward, more alarmed this time, but Charlie turned the other way and strode from the auditorium.

  Chapter 2

  The hallway was empty except for the two guards at the door. Charlie felt their eyes on him. Instead of returning to the lifts he turned left down another wide corridor. He passed the door Katy had stood in; another guard was posted there, staring inside to watch Jayce's presentation. Charlie continued walking so as not to arouse suspicion.

  He walked until Jayce's voice grew quieter and eventually disappeared. The silence comforted him; he was alone with his thoughts.

  This hall stood dark and deserted; the auditorium filled most of level 45, leaving room on the sides for only a few small maintenance rooms. He tried opening a windowless door but it was locked. He looked around; he didn't think anybody had come this way.

  A door was open ahead, at the end of the hall. He peered inside but it was just a square ventilation closet, six feet to a side and with nothing but air ducts and racks of computers.

  He turned around. There was nothing else here; Katy must have returned to the lift tubes. I'd better leave too. He took a step forward.

  A hand grabbed his shirt and pulled him backward into the room. The door clicked shut, throwing the room into near darkness. Only blinking green lights from the equipment gave off light.

  Charlie spun. A figure was silhouetted against the equipment. He would have recognized her anywhere.

  "Charlie," a gentle voice.

  His breath caught in his throat. "Katy."

  All embarrassment he'd had from the auditorium vanished, replaced by the flustered excitement he always felt around her. She was youthful and brash, energetic like a hound pup, always darting around instead of walking. He wished he could see her eyes better. She had the most beautiful, lively eyes.

  She was very still now. "I saw you walking toward the stage. I didn't think you'd see the signal in time to abort. If you hadn't looked over when you did..."

  The tone in her voice was strange--she rarely sounded worried. "I saw the signal," he said. "I'm okay. I didn't know you worried about me like that."

  Her hair spun in the darkness as she shook her head. "Onero gave me the order at the last minute. He said he'd string me up on the Wall if I didn't stop you in time."

  Charlie's heart dropped at hearing their leader's name. She always pronounced Onero differently, stretching out each syllable as if it were an exotic food.

  "Why did he abort?" Charlie asked, now angry. "You saw me. I was doing it, Katy! Everything we talked about. Who knows when we'll have another chance?"

  "That's just it. Onero says there's a better mission, more than just killing Jayce and a few cripples."

  "He could have sent someone else. He could have let me finish!"

  "I don't know Charlie," she said, "I'm just passing on the information."

  "He always does this, changing the plans at the last minute without telling anyone."

  She reached for his hand. A shock moved up his arm at her touch. He felt very close to her, alone in the dark ventilation closet. The excitement of their plan, the closeness to death, all of it made him want to finally throw her against the wall and kiss her.

  Do it, he thought. It was the perfect time, here in the darkness. He willed himself to move forward, taunted himself, now you coward, come on, do it, but no matter how hard he tried he could not make that first move.

  The moment was lost as she turned away from him. From the ground she picked up a square object--a grate, it looked like--and placed it over an open vent above their heads. She tightened the screws with a small tool.

  "He spoke highly of you," she said. "Says the new plan won't work without you. I think you impressed him, Charlie." Her shadowy head tilted down. "He never talks about any of us the way he spoke about you today."

  She squeezed his hand. Charlie's arm hung numbly at his side.

  "Onero wants to speak with you alone, so arrive early to the meeting tomorrow, okay?"

  He nodded.

  She let go of his hand, reaching up to shake her hair until it was messy and unkempt. Charlie couldn't be sure but he thought she was smiling. "I'm proud of you."

  She grabbed her bag of tools--she was a maintenance worker who visited the Academy often--and then she was gone.

  He waited in the flickering light of the equipment, both because it was a precaution to leave separately whenever their group met and because he needed to calm his nerves. Charlie's heart raced, almost as fast as when he walked toward the stage, minutes before.

  You're critical to his new plan, he heard her voice say. He spoke highly of you. Katy had to be embellishing, telling Charlie what he needed to hear to calm him down. Onero didn't speak highly of anyone. Stars, Charlie had watched the man kill someone for not following orders perfectly.

  After a few minutes--enough time for Katy to get down the lift--Charlie emerged from the closet. The hallway was still empty, but he stood waiting, listening. The only sound was Jayce's voice drifting down the corridor. He continued on, rounding the corner and passing the guard at the side door. This time he turned away from the auditorium to eye Charlie. "Don't think I didn't see where you went," he said.

  Charlie froze and gaped at the man.

  "She's a cute one. Don't worry," he said with a smile, "I won't tell."

  Charlie rushed the rest of the way, uncomfortable for a new reason. He waited by the lift entrance until the presentation ended. It was easy to slip back among the crowd as they returned to the lower levels.

  The crowd thinned on the first floor as students dispersed to their respective classrooms. Instructor Karrana waited in her doorway, watching her students enter. She watched Charlie with suspicion.

  His seat was in the back, against the innermost wall. The other students ignored him as he sat, busy discussing the presentation. Jayce was very dashing, one girl said.

  When all the students were inside Karrana closed the door and strode to her desk. Third-year students at the Academy were trained in a variety of subjects: mathematics and orbital physics, history and science. Once they reached their fourth year they would branch off into their expected professions, according to the areas in which they were proficient: pilot or gunner, mechanic or engineer, or one of the many other necessary roles. Charlie's parents expected him to become a pilot
like his father, but he surely didn't have the marks. Charlie didn't feel proficient in anything.

  "Yesterday we were learning about the Empire's energy requirements and consumption," Karrana said, beginning her lesson. The computer screen that filled the front wall bloomed to life, displaying charts of data. "Who can explain how many steps it takes for power to reach us here in Luccar?"

  A boy raised his hand. "Four, Instructor: power moves from the solar ring to the Ancillary, then to the Acceptance Station on the moon Latea, then down the Chain to the city."

  "Very good, Will," she said. The computer showed a top-down view of their star system. Each step was numbered, one through four.

  "Now, who remembers what the total energy requirements are for planet Melis alone?"

  Charlie leaned forward with his elbows on his desk to keep the bomb from resting against his chair. He had not expected to return to the classroom that day, and the weight of the bomb was heavy on his shoulders. The trigger was a lump in his pocket; he shifted it to make sure it didn't fall out. With the mission cancelled he was suddenly paranoid the bomb might detonate accidentally, as unlikely as that may seem. His shoulders ached with tension.

  He tried to focus on the lecture. History bored him. The only ones who needed to know about the Empire's power grid were the students who would become engineers. The only lessons he enjoyed involved wars and battles. Great frigates in space, surrounded by smaller fighters, whizzing around in a cloud of carnage. Fighting his father would have taken part in if he hadn't remained stationed close to home, with the Latea Orbital Defense.

  Someone asked a question that interested Charlie: "What will happen when the solar ring is dismantled and sent to the new star system?"

  "Well," said Karrana, "there are backup systems here on Melis. We harnessed wind and water currents for ages before the solar ring was built. And of course we can use solar power here on the surface, it's just less efficient when the rays have to pass through Melis's atmosphere. And that's a perfect question, Will, because that's what our lesson today is about."

  She touched the computer screen. New pictures and charts of data appeared. "By next year, when the dam is completed, all backup energy sources on Melis will be fully functional. Forty percent hydroelectric, thirty-one percent wind, ten percent geothermal..."

  Charlie turned away from the screen. Through the clear wall he saw guards marching down the hallway, escorting Jayce and the other members of the Gold Wing out of the building. They walked slowly so the man with mechanical legs could keep up. Charlie watched them disappear out of view. They shouldn't be alive.

  Karrana paused to admire Jayce before continuing her lecture.

  Beneath his anger at Onero was a growing sense of intrigue. What new plan did he have, and why did it include Charlie? He'd never been important before; today's mission was the first time Onero had trusted him at all. Had it been a test to see if Charlie could go through with a mission?

  He clung to the thought: today was just a test. He'd proved himself, to Onero and to Katy and the rest of the Children of Saria. Pride began to fill him, replacing his disappointment. He couldn't wait to hear Onero's plan.

  When his classes were complete he strode outside with vigor. The air was sticky from the morning's storm. The clouds were parting, and Saria threw beautiful purple and orange across the horizon, behind the towering rows of buildings that stretched to the sky. Charlie smiled to himself. How could people not appreciate their star's beauty? How could they claim she was dying, doomed to destroy them all in the coming millennia? The Emperor might be a God of flesh and clothing, but Saria was a God of fire.

  "Why do you look so happy?" his brother said as he approached. Finn was two years younger, beginning his first year at the Academy. He was already taller than Charlie and showed no sign of slowing; he was composed with better physical genetics. Even his hair was dark and wavy while Charlie's was a brownish-grey, frizzling in the humidity. Intelligence had been prioritized with Charlie's genetic composition, but that hadn't seemed to help with his marks.

  "Shut up," Charlie said, giving him a playful shove. Finn stumbled along the paved path. Remembering the bomb, Charlie wrapped an arm around his brother before he could push back. It felt good to be alive, with something to look forward to. "Let's go home."

  The wide streets of the inner city were thick with steadfasts making their commutes home, though the crowd was orderly. Overhead, between the towering buildings, the south-west rail train hummed along its track, carrying passengers away from the Terminal at the base of the Chain. Charlie and Finn lived within walking distance of the Academy and rarely needed to take the trains throughout the city.

  Their building looked like all the others: blocky and tall, with shiny black windows spaced evenly along its length. A garden on the roof spilled foliage over the edge, like green lengths of stringy hair. They took the lift to the fourteenth floor.

  A small table set against the wall decorated the entranceway to their home. Two photographs adorned the wall: a family portrait from the previous year, and the godly image of the Emperor next to it within a golden frame. The smell of food and spice hung in the air.

  "There you boys are," their mother said, poking her head around the corner from the kitchen. She was short and prim, with her black hair tied up for cooking. She spoke with her perpetual cheer, smiling as if every moment of every day were a nicely-wrapped gift.

  The smile wavered. "Charlie, where is your coat?"

  Star shit. He'd disposed of his coat that morning. "I gave it away," he lied, "on the way to the Academy this morning. There was an old man standing in the rain who needed it more than I did."

  Mother pursed her lips. "While that may have been sweet of you, we have no further clothing credits until next season." She turned back to her cooking, disappearing around the corner. "You'd better hope it doesn't rain anymore."

  Finn glanced sideways at Charlie before putting away his own coat, but thankfully did not reveal the lie. I need to talk to him later, Charlie noted. Some older students took my coat. That's what he'll believe.

  "Supper is in five minutes," mom called.

  Finn said, "Where's father?"

  "He won't be back from Latea until tomorrow."

  "He was supposed to be back today," Finn said. Charlie knew he was upset; their father had been gone three weeks now, longer than usual.

  "I don't know what to tell you," she said. "He's working very hard. Most of the Chain cars are full of settlers boarding the Exodus Fleet."

  Finn grunted before disappearing into his room, unhappy.

  Charlie's room was bigger than Finn's, but still only large enough to hold a bed and computer desk. Grey drawers and a closet were recessed in one wall and another held a tall mirror. Pilots received larger living quarters when they took on more difficult tours and advanced to higher ranks. Charlie's family had remained in these quarters for as long as he could remember.

  He closed the door. He unbuttoned his Academy uniform, carefully sliding his arms out of the shirt before letting it fall to the ground. The bomb was worn like a vest, with straps over each shoulder that clasped at his chest. He turned in the mirror to look at his back.

  Deliberately, he undid the clasp, gripped one of the straps, and began sliding it off. His heart pounded again, as loud as it had in the auditorium. He removed one arm, gripped the other strap, twisted, and slid it off in one slow motion. He laid it on the bed.

  It looked like a plate of body armor, flat and thin and unremarkable. It certainly didn't look like a bomb. His suspicion that it was fake, that it was all just a test from Onero, grew. I'll find out tomorrow, either way.

  He returned to the kitchen, a small square with hardly enough room for two people to stand. With the burden of the bomb gone he wrapped his arms around his mother and kissed her on the cheek.

  She turned, pleasantly surprised. "You're happy. Good day at school?"

  He shrugged. "Just happy to see you is all."

&nb
sp; Dinner was simple fare. Father earned more than a civilian, but not by much. Green potatoes, leafy salad, and small, boneless fish. They sat around the square table, metal forks clinking on plates. Charlie found his appetite voracious; his mother noticed too, smiling as he shoveled potatoes into his mouth.

  "How was school today?"

  "Fine," Charlie said. "Better than most days."

  Finn stared sullenly at his plate.

  "Instructor Karrana contacted me today," she said. "There was a presentation by some of the pilots returned from Praetar?"

  Charlie froze. He'd forgotten. Slowly, he began chewing again.

  "Yeah. I wanted to go. Thanks for giving your permission."

  "Of course," she said, smiling. "I think it's just wonderful you're finally gaining an appreciation for our veterans. For the service pilots like your father give."

  "Dad's not like them," Finn said. "All he does is patrol Latea where it's safe. Nothing ever happens here."

  "That's not true..." their mother began, but Finn was already pushing on.

  "When's he going to be promoted? He's still not even in the Bronze Wing. The kids at school tease me." He looked at Charlie. "They tease both of us."

  Mother stared, aghast. "Your father chose tours close to home so he could be with us. He's made sacrifices for you. Do you want a father who's sent away across the system? Who you only see every few years?"

  "If he tried harder maybe we'd be part of the Exodus Fleet," Finn said. "Half my friends are going. Their fathers spent tours--"

  "Shut up!" Charlie blurted. "It's not father's fault. It's the Emperor, he only rewards those stupid enough to put themselves in danger."

  "Enough," mother snapped, cutting them off. "You can never say those things, can never think those things, about His Luminance." Charlie nodded. "And Finn... your father works hard. He and I have made those decisions together, and you will respect them. Is that understood?"

  Finn stared at his plate.

  Mother forced a smile. "So the speech was good? I've heard Commander Jayce is a charming man."

 

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