by Maura Milan
“Brinn,” Angie cut in. “I know you’re angry, but we can be angry upstairs. My insides are starting to cook.”
“Agreed,” Professor Patel said. She walked past them to a small panel mounted on the far railing of the platform. “If you must, you may fight on the way back up.”
Professor Patel touched one of the buttons, and the metal underneath their feet vibrated as the platform rose to the surface. Ia seethed in silence while Brinn was on the opposite side, arms crossed, refusing to make eye contact.
A strange anxiety flooded Ia’s chest. Fighting was second nature to her—the physical, hard-knocks-on-the-head kind, and even the kind that ended in a flurry of name-calling. She had gotten in hundreds of shouting matches with sky pirates over the past few years, but this fight between her and Brinn was different.
Maybe because she actually cared?
Light trickled in from above, and Ia caught a glimpse of Aaron’s face. Half of the skin textile on his head was burned straight off. But what was most troublesome was the fact he stood alone, without a certain person by his side.
“Where’s Geoff?”
Aaron’s head swiveled clunkily toward her. “He’s not here. Isn’t that obvious?”
Great. Even the borg was giving her the third degree. She would have knocked Aaron on the side of the head if his face didn’t look so pitiful.
“Who took him?”
“Slavers. They penetrated our defenses within minutes. He was trying to help a group of cadets when the nets caught him.”
“With that core as hot as it is, the slavers were sure to find this place.”
“The core was cloaked,” Professor Patel snapped, her dark eyes flashing even from the shadows. “The entire level was surrounded with cryo capsules.”
“Then how did they find us?” Angie asked.
“The way they moved, it was like they’d been here before. They knew every corner, every room,” Brinn said. “One of them said they were looking for a girl.”
The truth dawned upon Ia like fierce sunlight.
The data she had shared with Einn in the White Room included blueprints to Aphelion, as well as a rundown of their security systems.
Einn had told her he’d come for her, hadn’t he? And her brother, no matter what his crimes, was never one to break his promise.
CHAPTER 46
KNIVES
KNIVES PEEKED THROUGH the jagged hole ripped into the thick sheet of metal. He couldn’t see through the darkness, but he heard their whispers echoing throughout the elevator shaft. For now, he was alone.
He couldn’t believe it when he first saw it. Aphelion was abandoned and burning. But Ia hadn’t been fazed. When they landed, she scrubbed through the hallways, gazing into each pile of rubble. He didn’t know what she was looking for until she stopped at the closed doors to the core room elevator. She peered down at the ground under her feet.
“There’s someone alive down there,” she said.
And just like that, they ripped the elevator door to shreds, then she snatched his windpack and flew off. Like the first time they met.
So much had changed since then.
He was still dealing with the emptiness created by Marnie’s absence, and now he had lost Bastian. He tried to keep his eyes wide open. Because every time he blinked, he saw the headmaster, his blood pooling around his head like a plume of feathers.
Back on Fugue, Knives had insisted on accompanying Bastian’s body back to HQ, but his father had refused, ordering him to return to Aphelion to await further commands. The general didn’t realize how much Bastian meant to him, how Bastian was like the father he never had.
Knives rubbed his eyes, stopping the tears before they fell. He needed to walk, to clear his mind. He wandered down the main corridor. It looped through the entire academy like a backbone.
As he walked, he was careful not to overextend himself, in order not to break the biosealant keeping the wounds on his bicep and chest together. Before he left for Aphelion, Knives had quickly treated the injuries he received from his encounter with Ia’s brother. But now the broken skin was beginning to throb underneath the wound dressings. He grunted through the pain; he would survive. The flickering lights above him illuminated the destruction around him. He stepped into the main atrium. The space was dark. It smelled of smoke and danger.
Knives tapped his holowatch and activated a light screen. The shadows stretched away from him so that he could see.
He gasped.
The sculpture of the raised fist was gone, now shattered into a million pieces of marble. And with it, so was the motto inscribed upon its wrist:
Of Progress. Of Prosperity. Of Proficiency.
He’d read those same words millions and millions of times over throughout the years. He had almost gotten them tattooed on his own wrist—to prove his loyalty and so he could be just like his sister.
Thank Deus he never had.
After her death, he fantasized about firing charge missiles at the sculpture, so he would never have to see it again. And now those words were finally broken.
An empty pit gouged right through him. He had been angry for so long now, but that wasn’t what he felt now.
It was loss.
There was history here, and now it was all gone.
As if in mourning, the beams above him groaned. He looked up, catching a glimpse of the ceiling shift. It was going to collapse.
He leaped out of the way. Panels crashed down, along with pipes and rock from the surrounding mountain. Dust covered him like a veil. Coughing, he wandered back to the elevator.
He wiped the dust away from his shoulders and shook what he could out of his hair, all the while stepping carefully around large piles of debris and across deep cracks in the floor. Suddenly, he couldn’t help but laugh, imagining the look on Bastian’s face if he had lived to see the state of this place. Knives knew he was horrible for finding that funny. But after mungpiles upon mungpiles of mung rained down on him, he had to find humor in something.
Like his ridiculous feelings for Ia. She was a murderer, a rebel, the Blood Wolf of the Skies, but she was also something else. He didn’t know what exactly she was to him, and it was making his thoughts feel light and heavy all at the same time. When this was all done, he decided he’d seek out Rx meds to put his brain back in order.
But for now, he would try very hard, desperately hard, not to smile at the sight of her.
When he got back to the elevator shaft, the platform had just settled at the top. Ia’s eyes were already searching for him.
“I have to tell you something,” she said. “But you have to promise not to be mad…”
CHAPTER 47
IA
“YOU SHOWED THEM how to break in?” Knives said, then raked his fingers through his hair. “How did they do it? There are defenses on every corner.”
Ia knew exactly how, but she was struggling to get the words out of her mouth. She was sure he’d explode if she did.
Professor Patel interrupted. “They came in through the Origin Site. It’s off the security grid.”
Knives glared at her. “That day I brought you to the Nest…”
Ia’s skin bristled at the rise of Knives’s voice. She glanced down the hall at everyone else, hoping they didn’t hear. But of course they did.
“You didn’t expect me to just sit around and play Bug with you forever, did you? I took note of everything I saw, all the layouts, the security, the ins and possible outs. And that information found its way into their hands.”
“So you wanted all this to happen?” Knives’s voice flared with anger.
“No. Not this,” she said, waving her hand at the academy crumbling all around them. “All I wanted was to escape. But I’m here now, and I can help. I just need to know who these slavers are.”
Knives stared at her coldly. Finally, he nodded for her to go on.
“All slavers broadcast a signature cattle call to alert other slave nations about which territor
ies they’ve claimed.”
Angie’s eyes widened as she tapped on her holowatch. “I found this the other day, but I couldn’t figure it out.” She projected the screen outward for everyone to see. It was an audio waveform, but instead of peaks and crests, it was a straight line. She played it, but all that came was silence.
“There’s nothing on the transmission,” Knives said.
“Wait. Let me take a look.” Brinn took hold of Angie’s screen, pinching her fingers on each corner and drawing them outward to zoom in on the waveform. Embedded on the audio file were a series of slight jagged peaks.
“It’s a Dead Space encryption,” Ia said.
“Can you decipher it?” Knives asked.
Ia took hold of the screen, manipulating the file with a series of spins, each time making specific changes to the angle of the turn. With each rotation, she extracted a layer of information meant to garble the encrypted transmission, until all that was left was the original waveform reshaped into the crests and valleys of sound. She pressed the play button.
A loud cacophony of squawks filled the air like a fury of crows blacking out the skies.
Everyone clapped their hands over their ears. Except for Ia. Her face paled as the message droned on.
The last time Ia had heard that call, she’d been contracted to lead an exodus of five thousand Viivi refugees. Viiv was about to be taken by the Commonwealth. The Viivi monarch, King Roiv, had promised Ia and her crew 560,000 NøN to move the remaining survivors safely across the Commonwealth offensive line.
They were almost to a safe zone when she caught that same raucous signal. The Armada had descended on them in a pinch formation, squeezing the spread of her convoy into one tight area. There was nothing Ia could do to fend them off.
Why on Ancient Earth would Einn send them? He had never worked with them in the past. It made more sense for Einn to send Ia’s crew, and even more sense for Einn to come himself.
“Shut that thing off,” Professor Patel ordered, her hands still clamped tightly against each side of her head.
Knives charged up to the screen and closed down the audio transmission, but its echoes still reverberated around them.
“They call themselves the Armada,” Ia said in the foreboding hush. “Once they catch a scent, they don’t stop.”
Professor Patel interrupted. “Slavers know better than to attack the Commonwealth.”
“No,” Knives answered. “General Adams mentioned a group of slavers that was targeting the colonies. If these slavers are one and the same, then they’re in league with someone powerful enough to disregard the political consequences.”
“They are.” Ia swallowed hard as the words passed. “My brother sent them.”
Einn was smarter, cleverer than she was, which meant he could take on anyone. Her brother had made her who she was. The bulk of Ia’s most vicious plots, the ones that made her infamous, were of his design. He acted through her, used her name and her courage, while he himself kept a low profile. He was Deus-damn brilliant.
“Your brother?” Brinn asked, her voice stiffening. “The one you’ve been using my holo to talk to?”
“You let her use your holo?” Professor Patel voice rose. “That’s a massive breach of security.”
Ia’s eyes shifted between Brinn and Professor Patel. She felt like she was caught in a riptide. All throughout her stay at Aphelion, she had been selfishly manipulating Brinn. And now because of her, Brinn would be kicked out of Aphelion or, worse, tried for treason.
“It’s not her fault,” Ia explained. “I tricked her into it. She didn’t know anything about the escape plans, or of my brother’s reputation.”
But the worst part of it all was that Ia had lied to someone who trusted her. Normally, she wouldn’t have cared. Lying was something she was good at, and if she had to do it to get ahead, then so be it. But now her lies were exposed, and she couldn’t look at Tarver’s face, at the hurt in her eyes. Ia had taken advantage of her kindness, and she hated herself for it.
“You really are as awful as they say you are,” Brinn said as she backed away.
“Tarver, wait,” Ia shouted, but Brinn was already running away.
Ia searched the halls, looking for Brinn, but she was nowhere to be found. She needed to find her and explain herself. And tell her what? That it had been her plan all along? That she had wanted to betray her? She did everything she could to escape. Lied, stole, blackmailed, and threatened. And it was easy at first. But her friendship with Tarver had changed so much. From enemy to roommate to someone Ia cared for. Someone she wanted to protect.
And she had betrayed her.
After half an hour of searching, Ia ended up on the flight deck, where she found Knives prepping the Kaiken.
Great, another person Ia had to explain herself to. She had given away the Nest’s location as a possible point of entry, something she wouldn’t have found out if Knives hadn’t brought her there. He had opened up to her about his sister while she was only thinking of escape the whole time, even though she promised him she wouldn’t.
Well, not the whole time. There was that moment while they sat in silence in the candlelight. And there were other moments. Joyriding in his Kaiken. Watching that Kinna Downton movie. There were times she worried about him. There were times that she cared.
She wasn’t ready to make sense of it. Not quite yet. She backed away to leave, but then she saw what he was doing, that he was loading fuel pods into his tank and readying for flight. All he needed to do was hop into the pilot seat and take off. There was only one place he could be going.
She called out to him. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of going after them all by yourself.”
He saw her, but kept on his way. “No one else here is going to do it.”
“This is the Armada we’re talking about. If you go up there, the next time I’ll see you will be on the Dead Space Market. In pieces. Do you understand what I’m saying?” She was shouting, but it felt like he couldn’t hear her.
“I can handle this,” he answered.
“No, you can’t. Not alone. Send your generals, your captains, your war fleets.” Her voice was desperate as she reasoned with him. “Or send me. Let me deal with them.”
Knives laughed.
“I’m not joking.” In fact, it was their best bet. She knew the Armada’s Alpha. They weren’t friends, especially after he had enslaved the five thousand Viivi she was trying to relocate, but Dead Space was a small place, and there were times when they were forced to cooperate for their mutual benefit. Certainly he would be able to do her this one favor, especially if she were to break off all his digits—and not just the ones on his hands.
Knives glared at her. “Stop with the act, Ia. You got your wish. Aphelion is completely destroyed. The cadets will be sold into slavery. And I’ll die trying to stop it. Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”
Ia paused. She didn’t know the answer. Her mind searched for words, but the words didn’t come. They stayed inside, burning through her chest.
“That’s what I thought. Stay here.”
He was turning away from her, and she hated that above all things. To be ignored like this. To be abandoned. By someone like him, by someone she…
Her body moved of its own will, her legs running after him, her arms pulling him back so they were face-to-face.
She swung her fist back, ready to come down like a grenade. If she knocked him out, he would stay. He would be safe.
As her arm came down, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She pounded her other hand against his chest despite all his injuries. She didn’t even care if it hurt.
“Don’t be an idiot!” she screamed at him.
“I know. I’m an idiot,” he said. And his lips crashed down on hers.
The world fell from underneath her, and all Ia could do was hold on to him. His hands held her hips, bringing her closer and closer. He kissed her feverishly, his tongue parting her lips, and she took him
in, feeling him in a way she had never expected.
He found emotions that were trapped so deep inside her, unable to take shape until now. This fusion of desire and anger and hate for herself for not understanding what was right and wrong. It was all that was left as the rest of her fell away. There were many questions etched deep into her flesh, and he answered her without fear. Because he wanted the same thing. He wanted to know that this was right.
Everything she was raised upon, her actions, her past opinions, Einn and all the people who fought alongside her would scream that it was all wrong. But she still didn’t want to stop.
Like a ghost, it haunted her, and like a ghost, it faded away, the kiss ending as quickly and as suddenly as it started.
Her eyes fluttered open, searching for him, for the familiar peaks of his lips, that wonderful scar along his jawline, and his cold blue eyes, marbled with gray, like the lonely memory of her home planet moments before it disappeared.
Knives was already boarding his Kaiken when he turned to her.
“I told you I was an idiot,” he said. His eyes were on her, a sadness laced all along the outer rims. He tapped at the temple of his helm, and a visor fell forward.
“Knives…” she called out breathlessly, but it was too late. The heat of the Kaiken’s thrusters already burned at the memory of everything that happened, and like a fool, she let them.
She stood there frozen, staring at the dark stretch of runway long after he was gone.
“Oh Deus,” Ia muttered over and over. Her short legs paced up and down the hall, trying to expel all the energy stuck inside her. All because of that kiss.
She’d had her fun with boys in the past. Like Vetty. They romanced each other around the stars until they couldn’t see straight. But those relationships quickly fizzled, and then she never thought twice about them. Vetty was fun, but Knives was hard to define. Yet she felt it, burning inside like a supernova.
Ia stormed down the hallway through the maze of wreckage until she found herself stopped in front of the med bay. The ceiling had collapsed around the entrance, giant black boulders now lying in a chaotic pile on the floor. She stared at the rubble, waiting for the satisfaction to rush over her, but as much as she wished for it, as much she demanded, it didn’t come.