Ignite the Stars

by Maura Milan

  Outside of her direct line of vision, she saw flashes of limbs and metal. The sounds of struggle mixed with Angie’s screams.

  She tried to sit up, but it felt like a boulder was on her chest.

  The hollow clang of metal cracked against bone, and she heard a body crash to the ground. The clatter of the fight died away, and Angie’s screams muffled down to panicked sobs.

  But what about Liam? Where was he?

  Fingertips padded against her cheek, and she tilted her head up. Hot tears seared the corners of her eyes when she saw him standing over the slaver’s unconscious body.

  He was okay. Liam was okay.

  He smiled but then glanced toward her side. “Don’t move.”

  Angie appeared behind him, a look of horror on her face. “Brinn, you’re bleeding!”

  Brinn felt pressure as Liam’s hands pressed down against her ribs.

  Gunshots echoed toward them, loud like bombs. They were getting closer.

  Liam looked her in the eye. “Brinn, we have to get you up. It’s going to hurt.”

  She nodded through the pain.

  Liam pulled her up. The throb in her chest radiated outward, buzzing toward her stomach and knifing through her brain. She whimpered, tears wetting her cheeks.

  Brinn leaned on Liam, while Angie took her other arm. They had made their way through the first stretch of hallway when they heard sickening laughter between the gunshots.

  “We know you’re out there,” someone hooted. “Keep crying, so we can find you.” More slavers joined in, snickering, high from the hunt.

  Brinn felt Liam’s grip loosen as he eased himself away from her, his absence like a hole in her side. It made her shiver.

  “Cut through the canteen,” he told them. “You and Angie need to run until you’re safe.”

  What about you? Brinn wanted to say, but she didn’t have the strength.

  And then Liam was running. All she could see was his back as he headed toward the gunfire.

  Angie pulled her into the canteen. “They’re everywhere. There’s nowhere to hide.”

  “I know a place,” Brinn managed to whisper, thinking of the secure uranium core. Her breathing grew sharp and staggered. She jutted her chin toward the engineering wing, and Angie hurried them through a maze of tables to the main hallway. They passed through the Horticulture labs, then the Armaments facilities, until finally they stopped in a dark room with a set of elevator doors.

  They just needed to get into the elevator, and they would be safe.

  “They’re here,” she heard in the distance. She didn’t have to turn to know the slavers had sniffed them out.

  It took all of her strength to lift her hand. Seeing her struggle, Angie gently guided her palm to rest against the sensor. The scan lit up, warming at her touch. But it didn’t open. She didn’t have the access to get through. If she could hook into the sensor—

  She froze. The cold nozzle of a pistol dug into the back of her skull. The slavers had found them. Brinn swallowed, closing her eyes, waiting for the trigger to click.

  A woman’s voice interrupted Brinn’s thundering heartbeat.

  “Put your weapon down. They’re with us.”

  Brinn turned her head slowly. It was Ia’s guard, Aaron, who held the gun, now lowered at his side. His face was clawed, the skin textile shredded off half his head. Professor Patel stood beside him. She held her arm where a gash had splayed her flesh.

  “Professor,” Brinn choked out.

  Professor Patel glanced at Aaron. “Quickly, help them.”

  Aaron hoisted Brinn’s other arm over his shoulder while the professor scanned her hand against the sensor. With a lurch, the elevator doors churned open. Shots fired around them, clanging on the floor at their feet.

  Professor Patel shoved the three of them inside and rushed to the controls. The elevator doors closed behind them as a second round of gunshots fired, their bullets hitting the polycarbon of the door instead of their flesh.

  As they descended, heat rose around them, making it hard to breathe.

  The elevator thudded to a stop, and there it was. The uranium core, showering them with its energy. It was surrounded by an intricate set of hover pods levitating it high above the rock surface, and a network of piped vents siphoned cold air from outside onto the core.

  At that moment, Brinn’s knees gave out, and she fell forward.

  Professor Patel’s hands pressed hard against her ribs. “You’re losing too much blood.”

  Brinn’s mind grappled for other possibilities, other ways to survive this, but there was only one option. There was no way around it; they would have to see. This was not worth dying over.

  Brinn closed her eyes and focused until she saw the blood pumping through her veins, the hemoglobin racing to clot the flow, and then her mind snapped to a stop as she located it. The plastic bullet was buried in her right lung, hidden in the rapidly collapsing cavity inside her chest.

  With every ounce of energy, she willed her cells to create new cellular tissue. They bridged together while pushing the bullet out of her body at the same time.

  The plastic bullet fell to the floor with a soft clink.

  As her lungs renewed, she took in a deep and hungry breath. Her eyes fluttered open, only to see a mixture of shock and horror on Angie’s face.

  “What the mif?” Angie whispered.

  Brinn collapsed to her side, her face angled to the glow of the uranium. Despite how powerful her mind was, it was far from a perfect system. She still needed to rest. And against her will, she closed her eyes while Aphelion fell. Her mind slowly faded away to an eerie lullaby, with the hum of the core as its melody, and the explosions upstairs as its drumbeats.

  CHAPTER 43

  IA

  IA WAS OUT OF GAS.

  Why?

  Because she had decided to turn back.

  Yep. Back to miffing Aphelion.

  And in her haste, she had gotten stuck in a megaplanet’s orbital pull. It was a bitch to get out of. She had used all of her fuel to escape its gravity, and now she was stuck floating around at the edge of some unknown star system.

  The best she could do was signal for help and beg for some fuel. But the place was deserted. She had to wait.

  Ia groaned. She’d been sitting for two days, surfing transmission channels, both the mainstream and Dead Space ones. But nothing was coming her way.

  Her stomach growled, and her hands clutched down to her belly. She had already eaten all the food packs she found by the console, but she hadn’t gone through the emergency reserves.

  Ia turned off the grav system to save energy. She threw her head back and drew her knees into her chest. Her weightless body somersaulted backward. Kicking her legs out, she pushed against the ceiling.

  Maybe she’d find some chocofluff. On Orca, she always kept her backup supply stocked with berry twists, sugar drizzle, and lopti jerky.

  Ia found the emergency reserves in an overhanging storage chest. She tore the plastic bag open, letting its contents stream out. Band-Aids, regen serum, H20 jelly, adrenaline shots. But no chocofluff.

  At least there was a calorie bar buried in the bottom of the bag. She shook it out of the plastic until it spiraled outward, and then plucked it out of the air with her fingers. Within seconds, the entire bar was stuffed in her mouth. It was dry and starchy, but it would occupy her stomach for the time being.

  Ia arched outward, her arms stretched above her head. She would have been content falling asleep this way—and was well on her way to doing so when a beep resounded from the scanner systems at the head of the jet.

  People!

  She pulled herself to the front of the jet and hovered over the scanner screen.

  There, right around the nearest planet. A starjet was heading her way.

  She accessed the transmission interface, setting it to automatically jump onto the approaching vessel’s system.

  “Hi there,” she said in her sweetest voice. “Could you
spare a couple pods? I’m completely stranded.” She tried to sound as helpless as possible to appeal to the other pilot’s generosity.

  No answer.

  “I’ll pay you,” she pleaded. “I have NøN. Or Zeroes. Even century coins. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Again with the radio silence.

  Seriously? That offer could have hooked even the stiffest of cargo pilots.

  “Hello?” she asked one last time.

  “Well, well…” A familiar voice crackled through the speakers. “If it isn’t the Blood Wolf of the Skies.”

  Ia angled her head trying to pin down the owner of that voice.

  No, it couldn’t be. A smile tickled at the edges of her lips.

  “Knives?”

  Ia stood in the middle of the training jet, waiting. The Kaiken was docked, and the chamber that bridged the two vessels was in the process of vacuum sealing and acclimatizing. Finally, the entryway unlocked, and she watched Knives as he ducked in, a rush of air blowing into his face as he stepped through. She couldn’t tell if he was angry. In fact, his energy seemed muted.

  “Before you pull out that heart tracker, I just want you to know that I was on my way back,” Ia blurted out.

  “I don’t have time for this,” Knives said as he entered the cargo deck from the regulation chamber.

  Ia opened her mouth to say something, to tell him about the scout she had spotted heading toward Aphelion. But then she noticed how he carried himself. Slowly, carefully like he was injured underneath his fresh flight suit. He gingerly raised his hand to unlatch his helmet. She gasped. His face had changed, like he had been to hell and back, a ripe cut buried down the skin of one cheek.

  He walked toward a nearby passenger chair and eased into the seat. His hands ran through his hair, slick with sweat. She lowered herself into the chair next to him, her eyes resting on his hands gripped between his knees. He was trembling.

  “Knives, are you all right? Where have you been?”

  He stared at the floor. “We were in Fugue…”

  “Fugue?” A piece of a memory flashed in her string of thoughts. “The Fugue from that story?”

  “We were attacked,” Knives cut in. “Bastian’s dead.”

  Ia washed her eyes over his features. No wonder he was so upset. She wanted to reach out to him, but she stopped herself.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “When we got there, someone was waiting for us.” Knives breathed. “It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He had a whole bunch of Tawnies chained to chairs, all dead when I found them.”

  “Sounds like a top-level mungwad to me.” Ia knew people like that back in Dead Space. They loved torturing their prisoners, taking their time with it. She had obviously killed before, but she tried to make it quick. Merciful, even. At least compared to them.

  “He branded them,” Knives continued. He traced a finger against his neck. “Two hearts.”

  Her stomach dropped when he said those words. “Show me.”

  He glared at her like she was a serial killer.

  “Show me,” she repeated.

  A photo screen hovered before her, and for a moment, she was too frightened to raise her eyes to look. It was a face she wanted to see again, but not like this. Now, the Elder’s eyelids were swollen shut, a crust of dried pus cemented at the crease, and his lips, the same ones that smiled at her, were red with dried blood. Along his neck, an imprint branded the Tawny Elder’s skin. Two identical hearts. Side by side.

  A wave of dizziness swept over her, and her knees grew weak. “That’s my brother’s mark.”

  Knives furrowed his brow, his eyes digging into hers. “Your brother did this?”

  “It can’t be him,” she stuttered. “He wouldn’t have.”

  Knives tapped his holowatch, accessing his photo stream. Several holoscreens popped up before them. All close-ups of Tawnies. Their faces gaunt, their skin suctioned close to the bone on their skulls. Bruises and cuts spidered across their skin. They had been tortured to a point that they could no longer heal from their wounds.

  Still, Ia recognized them. They were the people on the travel ship, the ones who helped her, and the people her brother had promised he’d protect.

  Anger ripped through her, flaring like a hot fire. She wanted to shut out everything she saw. All she could hear was her heart, exploding like gunfire inside her. Thoughts, ideas, excuses popped up in her head, crashing like thunder to explain all of it away. Maybe Knives had faked the pictures to make her turn on Einn. Maybe the Commonwealth had killed the Tawnies, and they were trying to frame her brother for the crime.

  Maybe…

  Maybe…

  Maybe…

  Her head felt heavy as her thoughts fumbled into one another. It was a feeling she wasn’t used to. It picked at her over and over until it exposed everything wrong inside.

  Just then, a sharp tone broke the silence, rising in pitch until it fell down to start again. It was an SOS signal.

  Knives staggered over to the transmission console, enlarging the audio pattern to extract the data from its wavelength.

  He gawked at the contents of the message. “This can’t be right.”

  Ia looked over his shoulder, staring at the coordinates on the screen. She knew where it was pointing.

  “I passed a Dead Space jet on my way out,” she said, rushing to the pilot’s seat. She checked the fuel gauges. While the Kaiken was anchored to the training jet, Knives had transferred his fuel over to it. Thankfully, there was enough power now to fuel them and bring the Kaiken back with them.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Knives twisted to grab her wrist, but he winced at his injuries.

  “Getting you to Aphelion. You’re in no condition to fly.” She looked him in the eye. “Besides, I’m a faster flyer than you, and you know it.”

  The way he looked at her was different, as if they had time traveled back to the day they met. He didn’t want to trust her.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  She took a breath, eyes forward into the All Black. “To remind myself I’m not as horrible as everyone thinks.”

  With sure and steady hands, she punched the thrusters up to full speed.

  CHAPTER 44

  BRINN

  BRINN WOKE TO SILENCE. The explosions were gone, and it seemed like time had folded back upon itself. Angie peered over at her, a deep crease denting the skin between her eyebrows.

  “Oh thank Deus above.”

  Angie motioned for Aaron to come over and help ease Brinn up. Brinn’s legs wobbled underneath her weight, but soon she was able to steady herself. Her fingers felt around her rib cage, digging underneath a bandage that had been wrapped around her while she was unconscious. But there was no longer any wound. That was when she remembered how she had healed herself.

  She opened her mouth to say something, but Angie interrupted her. “You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t do anything but wrap you up.”

  Brinn pointed at Angie’s now-sleeveless flight suit. “But you had to ruin your nice outfit.”

  “Oh shush,” she said as she gave Brinn’s leg a tiny nudge. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  Despite the fatigue, Brinn felt a small smile flicker upon her face.

  She stretched to the side, testing out her new flesh and skin. There was no pain, only a tightness she was sure would disappear once she moved around a bit.

  “How’d you heal so quickly?” Angie asked. “Did your parents implant you with cybercells when you were younger? I didn’t know you were rich.”

  Professor Patel stood in the distance, observing them. “I’m sure Cadet Tarver is too tired to discuss anything at length right now.” She gave Brinn the slightest of nods. She knew, Brinn realized. And she would keep her secret. But was it really worth keeping, especially now?

  Aaron stood in the elevator shaft and peered up through the dark cylinder. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but it seems that someon
e is up there.”

  Brinn walked over to the opening of the elevator shaft and peeked upward. They were hundreds and hundreds of feet underneath the planet’s crust, where they were safe from the slavers. But there was still the radiation. The core was so strong their skin had started to burn. They’d be dead if they stayed there much longer, but that might be better than facing whoever was up there. She angled her head and caught the sound of sparks tinkling against metal.

  The metal screeched, and she could tell the doors had been pried open.

  “Aaron,” Professor Patel whispered. “Do you have your pistol handy?”

  Aaron unclasped his holster.

  A voice shouted into the darkness.

  “Tarver, you down there?”

  Brinn felt her heart grow hard.

  What on Ancient Earth was Ia doing back here?

  CHAPTER 45

  IA

  IA FLEW DOWN the elevator shaft, a windpack strapped around her chest. She touched down on the elevator landing and turned off the windpack, the blades of the fan slowing to a halt. She searched through the dark for Brinn’s face, expecting a warm welcome. A hug, a hello. Anything.

  Footsteps stomped toward her, followed by the sting of a palm against her face.

  All right, that worked too.

  “Why are you here?” Brinn shouted.

  “To rescue you, you idiot!” Ia screamed back.

  Brinn’s face was red with fury. “Why don’t you just head back up and leave again? I don’t need your pity.” There was acid in her words, an anger backed up by hurt.

  A hesitant voice called out from above. “Uh…everything okay down there?” It was Knives. He had stayed above as lookout but must have heard them.

  “We’re fine!” they both screamed in response.

  “Honestly, people are too emotional for their own good,” Aaron muttered.