Ignite the Stars

by Maura Milan

  “What does that mean?” Brinn stared at him, caught off guard.

  The headmaster cleared his throat. “Ms. Tarver, your loyalty to the state is unwavering despite your family’s complicated history.”

  Brinn froze in her seat. Of course the headmaster was aware she was Tawny. He had access to her files.

  His face was relaxed, and he looked her straight in the eye. “No one else knows, except for me.”

  Brinn’s face flushed, and she looked away, uncomfortable.

  “Everyone has a complicated past,” the headmaster continued. “But we don’t run from it; we face it, accept it. That is how we all grow stronger. Don’t you agree?”

  It took all of her strength to nod. “But what if she won’t change? She practically murdered us in the teamwork test. Doesn’t that prove how heartless she is?”

  “Before you judge, I want you to see something.” Headmaster Weathers tapped on his holopad. Projections shifted onto the walls, and the room transformed around her. The office furniture, the portraits on the walls, even Headmaster Weathers were nowhere to be seen. Everything vanished behind the holographic world before her.

  Lights flashed red into her eyes. And the shrill notes of warning alarms flooded her ears.

  Foosht. Brinn turned around to see the double sliding doors open. Ia Cōcha stood in the doorframe, her obsidian eyes searing through the translucent visor of her helmet.

  “You,” Brinn uttered under her breath.

  But Ia looked through her as if she wasn’t there. Brinn crossed the room and waved her hands in front of Ia’s face, but she didn’t respond.

  That’s when Brinn understood. All of this was a recording. It was the teamwork simulation from earlier that day.

  Ia’s holographic image kept walking until she passed right through her. Brinn turned, following Ia to the navigational orb, skirting around the consoles, until Ia finally stopped in the center of the captain’s deck.

  There, lying on the metal floor, was an unconscious Brinn.

  Over the rising screech of the emergency sirens, the computer’s staccato voice chimed in an update. “Cabin will depressurize in sixty seconds.”

  None of this made sense. Ia should have been long gone by now. And where were the other cadets—Cammo, Reid, and Liam? None of their bodies were on the floor. What had Ia done to them?

  Ia crouched down, leaning over Sleeping Brinn’s oddly peaceful body.

  And then she did something completely unexpected.

  Ia hooked her hands underneath Sleeping Brinn’s shoulders. She let out a guttural cry as she pulled, her muscles taut and straining through her flight suit. Sweat glistened upon her brow.

  It was strange to see Ia struggle, to see that confident grin no longer wiped across her face. Ia Cōcha was flesh and blood like anyone, and even she had her limits. But despite this hardship, Ia never seemed to stop. She never seemed to give up.

  Brinn followed Ia as she dragged Sleeping Brinn’s body across the captain’s deck. Within seconds, they were at the far end of the hall. Ia stopped. Yellow and black caution lines rimmed the double-sided doorway before them. A small circular window made of clear quadruple-walled plastic was built into the door. Brinn caught a quick glimpse inside and saw him.

  Liam.

  Brinn ran through the metal doors, her body slipping through the projection until she was at his side. Ia had placed a calibrated helmet on Liam. Brinn peered through his visor to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She saw a slight rise in his shoulders. Up, then down. He was breathing.

  She glanced around and saw Cammo and Reid, both in the same state. Brinn wondered why Ia had bothered. Why would she increase their chance of survival by equipping them all with calibrated helmets? She turned around and saw that all three of them were strapped into flight seats attached to the walls.

  This wasn’t a room at all. It was an escape pod.

  Behind her, the door slid open, and Ia inched in backward, dragging Sleeping Brinn inside.

  Overhead, the computer’s calming voice called out, “Warning. Fifteen seconds until depressurization. All personnel must evacuate.”

  The lights in the main hallway flickered as the ship began to power down, channeling all of the remaining power into the escape pod.

  Baffled by the turn of events, Brinn followed Ia’s every move, waiting for her to do something bad. Inside her helmet, Ia’s face was drenched in sweat, and with a hoarse, labored breath summoned from deep in her gut, she hoisted Sleeping Brinn into one of the seats.

  “What are you doing? That’s the last seat,” Brinn shouted, even though the words wouldn’t reach Ia. Because this had already happened. It wasn’t a premonition of what was to come; it was actual truth, the irreplaceable, immutable past.

  In one quick motion, Ia slipped off her helmet, and Brinn stood, her eyes growing hot as she watched Ia fix the headpiece onto Sleeping Brinn’s head.

  “Cabin will depressurize in five…”

  Ia scanned the pod, doing a quick check on everyone’s seat harnesses.

  “Four…”

  Ia rushed out of the escape pod, and the doors slid closed behind her. Brinn stayed on the other side of the door, watching Ia through the circular window. Was she rushing to another escape pod? Surely, Ia Cōcha had a plan to save herself. She wasn’t going to sacrifice her life for them, for four helpless cadets who couldn’t even save themselves.

  “Three…”

  But instead of running, Ia stood by the doors, her fingers flying across the activation panel.

  “Two…”

  Brinn watched as Ia finished inputting the launch code. Ia tilted her head up, getting one last look through the window. Gazing back at her from the other side, Brinn could see the triumph in Ia’s eyes.

  Without hesitation, Ia slammed her hand against the red launch button.

  “One…”

  Brinn squinted her eyes through an explosion of light and steaming exhaust. It was so bright that it burned. Yet none of that bothered her because she had just seen the unimaginable. Even as the veil of fumes dissolved around her and the dim of the All Black loomed, she recalled the changed look in Ia’s eyes. This was only a simulation, and there was no real danger to this test they took, but Ia had done something selfless, so human. Brinn’s eyes burned with shocking realization.

  Ia Cōcha had saved her life.

  The world went to black as the recording reached the end, and one by one, the panels of the headmaster’s office returned to reality.

  Brinn’s movements throughout the recording had left her standing at the far end of the room. She could sense Headmaster Weathers shifting in his seat, waiting for her reaction. But she remained staring at the wood grain on his wall.

  “The ship was equipped with one escape pod,” the headmaster said. “There was only one casualty in that mission.”

  Brinn took a deep breath. No, it couldn’t be, she thought. Ia Cōcha was the most wanted criminal in the known territories. She hijacked resource ships, kidnapped Commonwealth officials, and killed anyone who got in her way.

  The headmaster’s voice pierced through the clamor of Brinn’s thoughts. “Everyone is capable of good, Brinn. Even her.”

  CHAPTER 19

  IA

  IA STARED AT THE WALL by Brinn’s bed, her eye mod set to thermal imaging. The bundle of communication wires glowed red behind the metal wall. Connection to the ArcLite was usually wireless, but there were ways to get around that in an emergency.

  She glanced underneath her bed at the collection of broken bio-plastic sporks she had stolen from the canteen. Her guards weren’t warriors by any means, but they had eyes like hawks. It had been hard sneaking anything into her room to use. The utensils from the canteen were the only things she could slip away unnoticed, wiggling one each day into the sleeve of her flight suit. And one by one, she had broken them all.

  There was a slight indentation on the wall near where the wires were. A dimple. Ia figured that if she hit it at jus
t the right angle, with just the right amount of pressure, then perhaps she could gouge a small enough hole into the wall. But today, like the previous times, the spork had shattered in her hands. She threw the broken pieces on the floor with a grunt, then kicked her foot at the wall over and over again, screaming in frustration. And when she fell to her knees with exhaustion, she glanced up at that wall, seething at that damn little dimple. But still there was no change.

  “You sound distressed,” the Monitor observed. “Shall I play some music?”

  “Fine,” Ia said. Maybe it would spark some inspiration.

  “Accessing classical music stream.” The loud thump of double bass drums and aggressive guitar thrashed through the dorm room. It was music from Ancient Earth’s first technological renaissance. Heavy metal, they once called it. Ia was a huge fan of the classics, but today it did nothing to elevate her mood.

  She looked around the room, at the empty bathroom and the spare bed where Tarver was supposed to sleep. It was rare that Ia was left in the room all by herself for long periods of time. Tarver was usually locked in the bathroom, and when she did finally venture out to the main room, it was only to deposit her duffel bag in the closet before classes started in the morning. The second she returned, she would grab the bag and bring it with her into the bathroom for the rest of the night. But now Tarver was in the med bay after what had happened during the teamwork test.

  Ia glanced at the closet.

  She found Tarver’s duffel bag on the floor of the closet space. Ripping open the clasps, Ia emptied out the contents. Basic clothing. All the necessary toiletries. A hairbrush. A lot of brown hair dye.

  And scissors.

  She examined the blades. They were blunt but had enough edge on them to make a mark. Not as a weapon. But perhaps as a tool.

  She just hoped she had enough time to put them to use.

  “Monitor, can you track down Tarver’s device?” she called out.

  “The device is currently in the North Wing.”

  The headmaster’s office was in that part of campus.

  Ia frowned. “How long has Tarver been there?”

  “Exactly twenty-nine minutes and thirty-four seconds,” the Monitor answered.

  A long time. Ia hoped that whatever business Tarver had with the headmaster would last long enough for Ia to get ahold of Einn.

  “Keep track of her,” she said. “Let me know if she’s headed back.”

  Ia clicked her eye mod on, switching it to thermal view, until she spotted the landline warming to red behind the wall. With sure and certain movements, Ia knelt next to Tarver’s bed and thrust the scissors into that same dimple, creating a small hole. She wiggled the tip back and forth, using it as leverage until the wall panel clicked and the bottom corner popped open.

  With no time to lose, she plunged her arms into the wall. Her fingers fished blindly, sifting through the empty, frigid air. Holding back a whimper, she overarched her shoulder to give her arm more length. Finally, her fingertips knocked against rubber-coated wires. She snatched at the bundle and fished it out. The wires wrapped around each other like a growing vine. Buried in the center, she found the thinnest one. She was about to cut through its protective rubber sheath when she caught sight of a faint metallic glimmer in the coating.

  “Mif,” she muttered. The wires were patched into a secure system network. If she cut through one, someone in Aphelion would know. She yanked her hand out of the wall and threw the scissors across the room, dragged her fingers through her hair, and uttered curses at Deus for deceiving her, for giving her hope when there was none.

  Then, through the booming music, she picked up the Monitor’s staccato voice. “Cadet Tarver is one minute away.”

  Ia’s eyes scanned the room. The place was a mess. She needed to hide all evidence that she was trying to escape or else Tarver could go out there and report her to her guards, to that headmaster, maybe to Knives. And she really didn’t want to hear the flight master laugh at her for once again failing.

  On the floor, Tarver’s duffel bag was splayed open, its contents still strewn all over. Ia’s hands darted here and there, stuffing everything back inside.

  She reached for Tarver’s hairbrush lying in front of her. And stopped. With delicate fingers, she plucked out a strand of hair.

  She stared at the curiosity of it. She was sure her eyes were deceiving her, but after twirling it in her fingers, there was no mistake.

  It was half brown and half navy blue.

  CHAPTER 20

  BRINN

  WHAT WAS ALL THAT NOISE? It sounded of distorted tones and thudding booms.

  Turning the corner into her hallway, Brinn realized it was coming from her room. She pressed her hand on the scanner, prepared to find the room a total mess. She was surprised to see nothing was broken. Instead, it almost looked cleaner inside, shinier.

  Ia Cōcha sat on her bed, her back against the wall, staring at her.

  Brinn spoke. “Monitor, music stream off.”

  The song faded until they were left in a surprisingly loud bubble of silence. She glanced at Ia, remembering the recording she’d seen just moments ago at the headmaster’s office. Maybe there was more to Ia than her crimes.

  She decided to extend some sort of olive branch. So she spoke, her voice awkward in the glaring silence. “Still up?”

  But Ia said nothing.

  “We should get some rest. There’s an early class tomorrow,” Brinn rambled on as she moved to the closet. Before getting to bed, she had planned to do a quick touch-up on her roots. Her fingers fished through her duffel bag, sifting through her toiletries.

  Wait. Where was her—

  “Looking for this?” Ia interrupted.

  Brinn’s hairbrush dangled between Ia’s fingers. Before she could say anything, Ia threw it over to her.

  “You should have told me you’re Tawny.”

  “What are you talking about?” She had to deny, deny, deny.

  Ia held up a long strand of hair. Of Brinn’s hair. “Your roots are showing.”

  Oh. My. Deus.

  Brinn rushed to the bathroom. She leaned over the sink, her head as close as it could get to the mirror. Her fingers flew through her hair, parting it everywhere to check her roots. Her eyes zeroed in on a navy-blue stripe near her right ear.

  Her heart beat fast as she tried to figure out what to do.

  Behind her, Ia leaned up against the doorframe. Brinn swiveled around, and she knew how her own face looked right then. She was scared.

  Then Ia paused, squinting in observation, and Brinn knew she had pieced everything together. “You lied on the teamwork test, didn’t you? You could have hacked into their system in seconds.”

  It was true. Brinn had the final line of code figured out, but she took her time, typing it and then deleting it.

  “I could have. But I didn’t.” Her legs were shaking so hard that she was ready to fall to her knees, to beg and plead for everything to be as it had been just moments ago when her secret was not yet out. “Please don’t tell anyone. I’m not even full Tawny.”

  Ia’s usual smirk was gone. “You should be proud. The Tawnies I’ve met are the most brilliant minds in our universe.” Ia leaned against the doorframe, watching her. “Why are you hiding who you are, Brinn?” It was the first time Ia had called Brinn by her name.

  Brinn had spent her whole life fighting with her mother on this, so she already knew what to say. “You’ve seen how they are. People hate the Tawnies. They call us mungbringers.” The Uranium War was now over, but still, when Citizens saw the Tawnies, it dredged up all their past associations with one of the deadliest wars in all of Commonwealth history. Brinn didn’t even want to imagine how the cadets at Aphelion would react to a Tawny in their midst. They’d bully her, make her life so miserable that she’d have to go back home. She looked up at Ia. “If anyone here finds out who I really am…”

  Brinn tried to decipher the look on Ia’s face, but it had grown cold an
d calculating. What was she thinking right now? What was Ia planning?

  Finally, Ia leaned in. Her dark hair swayed like a curtain across her face, but even so, Brinn could see the danger in her eyes.

  “I’ll keep your secret. But I need something in return.” Ia nodded at the holowatch strapped around Brinn’s wrist.

  “No way,” Brinn snapped. “If they find out I let you use it, I’ll be tried for treason. Who do you want to contact anyway?”

  Then Ia sighed, her gaze landing on the floor. “If you must know, I want to talk to my brother.”

  Brinn stared at her silently. She had expected that Ia would want to get hold of a criminal almost as awful as she was. A serial killer perhaps? Like the BroadStone Slasher that was terrorizing the mining colonies. But not her brother…

  “Space is a gigantic place, Tarver. No matter how far you journey, your family is the anchor that brings you back.”

  There was a deep sadness in Ia’s voice, and Brinn, for the first time, saw a speck of vulnerability in Ia’s armor.

  It would have been simpler to hate her, to believe aggressive weirdos like Ia were born alone, that they were brought into the world as orphans, with no parents or siblings. But now that she knew Ia had a brother, Brinn was struggling with one strange fact.

  They had something in common.

  Brinn unhooked her holowatch. “Fifteen minutes. That’s it.”

  CHAPTER 21

  IA

  IA TURNED TARVER’S holowatch over in her hands, amazed at how easily Tarver had said yes. Tarver and her little secret had just fallen into her lap like an answer to her prayers. She thought about the number of failed attempts to pierce through that wall and the sad pile of sporks underneath her bed. Receiving favors for keeping secrets was sometimes the best way to do anything. Bribes, blackmail, tit for tat. Why hadn’t she thought about it earlier?

  Brinn hovered over her shoulder, her fingers touching the bare ring of skin on her wrist where her holowatch used to be. “Clock’s ticking. Even though I don’t have my watch, I can still keep track of time.”