“Ooh, kitty,” she says excitedly.
I take Ocho from my shoulder and put her on the ground near the girl. She eyes the small human warily, but accepts the pats.
I’m not sure what people say to parents about their children, so I smile and say, “She’s beautiful.” Hearing my distorted voice through the rebreather, I pull it from my face.
“Do you have one of your own?”
I think of Pale, but shake my head. “What are you selling?”
“Everything. We just moved here, and our unit’s a little smaller than we’re used to.”
I set aside two jumpsuits that are close enough to my size, then pick up a chunky bracelet carved with fine patterns. It won’t let me pass through powershields, but it’ll stop my wrist from feeling so naked. I set it on top of the clothing and ask, “How much for these, and the ship?”
“The ship?”
“If you’re staying, you don’t need it, right?”
The two confer, and I open a link to Waren, plugged into the Nova systems. “What do you think of Blackcoat-class ships?”
“Corvettes but built like small frigates. Plenty of space, lots of armor, but not particularly fast.”
“Would you be happy to call one home?” I ask.
“Anything to get me away from Einri; that thing is terminally boring.”
I watch their little girl play with Ocho, letting her long hair hang down and making it dance so Ocho leaps forward, claws slicing harmlessly between the fine strands.
When the women are done talking, I have to haggle them down a little, and they agree to throw in the bulky water jug for nothing. I hand them the cred chip Sera gave me—every credit left to my name—and they send a secure burst containing the ship’s deed and access codes.
When we’re done, the girl waves goodbye to Ocho, hardly even aware I was there.
I delve further into the Station to stretch my legs and clear my head, and I catch bits of imperial news. They can’t say where Seward was, but they make it sound like it was a burgeoning beacon of civilization, not a planet that only existed to service a secret, illegal prison. They’ve dug up an old photo of me from one of my compromised fake IDs and they broadcast my name across the galaxy, blaming me for the “Slaughter at Seward.”
I install Waren’s core into the new ship, then return to the Nova to grab my scant belongings. Squid carries my bag to the ship, insisting they should help, when I know they just want to say goodbye. We hug, and they hold on a little too long.
“You’ll let me know about Mookie?” I ask.
Squid nods. “Are you sure you won’t stay?”
“I can’t, Squid.” Even if I weren’t public enemy number one across hundreds of worlds, something horrible happens to everyone I get close to—everyone but Squid, so far.
“I’m worried about you, Mars. Promise you’ll stay in touch.”
“I promise,” I say. “Where’s Pale? I couldn’t find him.”
“He was napping.”
“Tell him bye from me, okay? You’ll take those files we found to a doctor and get his seizures sorted out?”
“Of course,” Squid says. They hug me again, and say in my ear. “I will see you soon.”
I pull Ocho from my hood and hold her out to Squid. Squid scratches her chin and kisses her on the head, but Ocho’s never been one for goodbyes.
“Bye, Squid. Thanks for everything. And sorry.”
I board the ship, and close the air lock doors behind me without turning for a final look.
I press Ocho to my shoulder and scratch the back of her head as I walk toward the cockpit. “I suppose we’ll need a new name for this ship, won’t we?” I ask, but Ocho only purrs. “Waren, feel free to take us out at your leisure.”
The AI doesn’t bother to respond, but the floor hums beneath my feet as the engines start warming up. I take the pilot seat and Ocho squirms out of my grip, drops to the floor, and scampers away.
Some time later, Waren intones, “We have reached minimum safe distance.”
“How do you like the ship?” I ask.
“I suppose it will do,” Waren says.
“Be glad you don’t have a sense of smell; that family spent way too long cooped up in here.”
“Whilst I may not have olfactory senses—and thanks for rubbing that in—I have detected something moving in Cargo Hold B.”
“Probably just Ocho,” I say, but then I swivel my seat and see her asleep in the corner of the cockpit. “Void-damn it.”
The ship is dark, and my footfalls echo off the flat metal walls. I hit the button to open the hold, and there he is, eating one of my rations, with another two empty packets on the floor beside him.
“Pale, what are you doing?” I say.
The boy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and smiles.
I sigh and crouch down to his height. “Waren, turn the ship around.”
Pale says, “No,” and shakes his head vigorously. He gets up and throws his sauce-covered hands around my neck.
“You want to stay with me?” I ask, and I can tell he nods because he digs his chin into my shoulder. “I’m sorry, kid, but it won’t work.”
He pulls back, then he pats his chest and then points at me. He repeats the movement a couple of times.
“You’re saying we’re the same?”
“Yes,” he says, nodding.
“That’s not a good thing. Waren?”
“There’s no turning back, Mars.”
“What do you mean?”
“You need to see this.”
I stand and hold my hand out for Pale. “Come on, you stowaway.”
We walk back to the cockpit and he sits down next to Ocho and pats her. She stretches and opens her eyes, but then closes them again and keeps sleeping. The ship’s aft-view is up on the viewscreen. Aylett hangs just off-center, the void between us and it filled with three military carriers and a mass of frigates too distant to count.
Waren zooms in tight so we can see the imperial insignia adorning the hull of each carrier: the Janos stag beetle with wings spread wide. “It’s the Emperor’s Guard,” Waren says, sounding oddly calm.
Fuck. My heart stops for a moment too long, then begins to race. The emperor’s private military police force. It was supposed to be the end: Briggs killed, Hamid and the Legion dead on Seward, nothing left of MEPHISTO but scattered outposts. I was meant to be free of all this.
“They appear to be tracking us, Mars. What do you want me to do?”
“Just get us out of here.” Looking at Pale I sigh. “I guess you’re stuck with me.”
He grins at that and I can’t help smirking.
“Have you got a destination in mind?” Waren asks.
“Did you get a copy of the Miyuki records from Einri?”
“Of course; that glorified calculator wasn’t even interested.”
“Then we’ve got everything we need to treat Pale’s medical condition, except a doctor. Punch in coordinates for Joon-ho—I know someone there we can trust.”
Is this how it started for Squid? Take on one stray, and next thing you know you’ve got a small crew of people who need you? I’ll have to start holding family meetings too. A space witch, an untethered AI, a broken psychic boy, and a self-cloning cat-thing: what a weird family.
An immense field of stars stretches out beyond the cockpit viewport. It’s a view that feels like home. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it inside Homan, but staring out at these familiar constellations, something in my chest glows warm.
“Calculations complete; just say the word.”
“First, tell Squid we had a stowaway and he’s staying with us for the time being.”
There’s a pause, then Waren says, “Message away.”
“Alright—get us out of here before they get any closer.”
“When will you let me choose our destination?” Waren says.
“Next time, Waren, I promise.”
The galaxy folds away and t
he stars vanish as we slip into a wormhole, leaving behind the wrath of the empire. We’re fugitives, outside the law and beyond the walls of the universe. It’s safe here, adrift in darkness. Too bad we can’t stay.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Bryony Milner for her all her support, feedback, and friendship. Phoenix belongs to you. Thanks also to Marlee Jane Ward, whose work is an inspiration and whose support is invaluable. And thanks to Austin Armatys for his feedback, support, and encouragement.
Thanks to Carl Engle-Laird for his support, his keen eye, and his editorial skill. Thanks also to the rest of the team at Tor.com Publishing for all their hard work.
I owe a debt of gratitude to both Chelsea Manning and Gregory Whitehead, whose work informed certain aspects of this book.
About the Author
Photograph by Marlee Jane Ward
COREY J. WHITE is a writer of science fiction, horror, and other, harder to define stories. He studied writing at Griffith University on the Gold Coast, and is now based in Melbourne, Australia.
Find him at coreyjwhite.com and on Twitter @cjwhite.
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Also by Corey J. White
Killing Gravity
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
About the Author
Also by Corey J. White
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novella are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
VOID BLACK SHADOW
Copyright © 2018 by Corey J. White
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Tommy Arnold
Cover design by Christine Foltzer
Edited by Carl Engle-Laird
A Tor.com Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
ISBN 978-0-7653-9692-1 (ebook)
ISBN 978-0-7653-9693-8 (trade paperback)
First Edition: March 2018
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Void Black Shadow Page 13