by Jay Allan
Era looked back at Zephyr, but her somber expression was gone.
“I’m getting really sick of plain quin, anyway,” Zephyr said. “How can the lower levels eat this every single day?
Era shrugged. Command level life on the London did have its benefits, not the least of which was a more varied menu. And quin liquor. She and Zephyr had gotten drunk on it while the ship rioted. Era pushed the memory down.
Dritan caught sight of them and pointed to an empty table in their usual spot in the middle of the galley.
Zephyr and Era had tried to sit with his crew once, but the table had fallen silent when they showed up, and a few of his crew members had even shot Zephyr dirty looks. Never again. They stuck to the tech tables now.
They walked to the table Dritan had picked for them, and Era dropped down next to him.
Zephyr slid onto the bench across from them and dug her fork into the small pile of grain. “How do they expect us to survive on these rations? The Meso’s sure been doing a kak job lately.”
Dritan tilted his head to the side and squinted at her. “Yeah, I guess that’s what happens when ya send ten sublevel crews down to Soren and only two come back.”
Zephyr pursed her lips and folded her hands on the table. “If the Meso needs to recruit, they should put out a notice to the other dekas. That’s the proper procedure.”
Era usually mediated this sort of thing between them, but not today. She kept her eyes on Dritan, stomach churning. How could he lie to her?
“You volunteering to transfer to the Meso?” Dritan took a swig of his water. “Then you can let’em know what a kak job they’re doing. Or help out. You know how to grow quin, right?”
“I don’t see—”
“Nope. You don’t.”
Zephyr sniffed and shoved a forkful of quin into her mouth.
Dritan exhaled and turned to Era. “So how was your shift?” He leaned in to kiss her but paused an inch from her face. “What’s wrong?”
“You lied to me.” She kept her voice too low for anyone else to hear.
Dritan glanced toward the sublevel tables, and he took a deep breath.
“The president ordered personnel records,” Era said. “How could you not tell me you worked executive sector?”
“I didn’t want you to worry, Er.”
“I can’t believe you never told me you had hull duty…”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“What if…what if they’re trying to find someone to blame for the breach?”
“They’re not.” Dritan bit his lower lip and rubbed Era’s leg. “My crew does good work. And they’ll see that.”
He cleared his throat and turned away to eat. Zephyr was staring at them.
Era pushed her plate toward Zephyr. “You can have mine if you want it.”
Zephyr raised her brows, questioning, but Era shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. Dritan had sounded so sure of himself. Was she overreacting?
The lights in the galley flickered and went out. Conversation died down. Dritan wrapped an arm around Era and drew her close, their argument forgotten. Forgiven.
The scent of boiled quin seemed to intensify. Every murmur, every scrape of a plate, every rustle of a suit seemed louder in the darkness.
“Just another power outage,” Dritan murmured. “They’ll get it back on soon.”
Several minutes passed, and the sirens didn’t kick on. She relaxed into Dritan and inhaled his clean scent. The London had fewer outages than theParagon, but that was just a perk of being on the deka that manufactured most of fleet’s power components.
The lights blinked on, and the entire galley seemed to exhale. Conversation started up again, louder than before.
The shift buzzer sounded, calling an end to last mess and the beginning of night shift.
Dritan kissed Era’s neck and held his mouth to her ear. His warm breath sent a pleasant shiver through her body. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll see.”
“Just don’t keep things from me,” Era whispered. “Tell me next time.”
“I will. I promise.”
∞
The ship is on lockdown.
Sirens. Emergency lights. I race up the deserted stairwell to the first set of doors and swipe my shift card, but the doors won’t open.
I rip the panel from the wall. All that’s there is a jumble of singed wires, the components around them blackened. But I can fix this. Can’t I?
I drop my hands to my waist, seeking my work belt, and my heart drops. My stomach is flat. Empty.
They’ve aborted my baby.
I choke back a scream and run up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Dritan’s on level six. He’ll help me. I reach the landing and slip in a pool of dark, viscous liquid.
I crash to the floor. The pool is deep red, sticky, half-dry. The thick metallic scent of it fills my lungs, and bile rises in my throat.
An arc of spattered blood coats the doors and drips down the number six. I try to lift my palms, but they stick to it. “Dritan—”
The door slides open and steals my breath. My body lifts off the landing, and the corridors of level six flash by.
There’s a hull breach.
And I’m being sucked into space.
Era’s eyes fluttered open in the pitch dark, and she sat up straight, gasping for air, one hand on her still swollen belly.
Just a nightmare. She hadn’t had one like that since after her father died.
She reached out a hand and found Dritan’s warm body at the edge of the bunk, against the wall.
She cuddled up to him, and he groaned and rolled over in his sleep to wrap her in an embrace. Her body relaxed, and she closed her eyes. Dritan had a way of keeping the nightmares at bay.
CHAPTER FIVE
Era leaned against the sink and stretched her legs. Her hips ached, no matter what she did. She chose a helio sector suit from the rack and set it down on the bench.
Zephyr already had her suit on, and the white fabric made her skin look even paler. “Dritan doesn’t like me.”
Era sighed and slowly unzipped her suit, trying the whole time to think of a good response. “He does like you. He just takes a while to get to know.”
“Funny, he seemed to get to know you pretty fast.”
“It’s just—sometimes you say things.”
“What?” Zephyr placed her hands on her hips. “The things I say never bothered you before.”
“They don’t bother me…”
“Ha. Told you he doesn’t like me.” Zephyr faced the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair, working out tangles.
Era frowned and tucked her short brown hair behind her ears. Much more practical. So maybe Zeph wasn’t Dritan’s favorite person in the fleet. But he knew Era cared for her, and that was enough for him.
Era finished removing her boots and suit and placed them in a locker. She was stepping into the helio suit when a young woman left the showers. The woman scowled at Era’s bare belly.
Era’s cheeks warmed, and she zipped up the suit. Not like it covered anything. It was sleeveless, ended mid-thigh, and hugged her curves, accentuating her growing bump in a way her regular suits didn’t.
She walked to the sink and tapped it to rinse her hands in the small trickle of water that came out. Then she grabbed a rag from the bin of suit scraps and dried her hands.
“You ever gonna tell me what the big deal was last night at mess?” Zephyr asked.
“If I do, it won’t be here.” Era eyed the woman again in the mirror. The woman caught Era looking, frowned, and turned away to finish dressing.
Zephyr adjusted her too-tight suit and struck a pose in front of the mirror. She danced around Era to get to the door. “Can’t keep my lover waiting. Wouldn’t wanna ruin his whole midbreak.”
Era rolled her eyes and followed.
Dritan had eased her mind about the hull breach investigation last night, but she’d still half-expected guards to storm the cubic
and arrest him. She’d been wrong, though. Only her nightmare had interrupted her sleep.
Era and Zephyr turned the corner and hit the wave of heat emanating from helio sector’s open doorway. The tension fled Era’s body, and her skin tingled in response to the warmth. She picked up her pace. Unlike the burn Zephyr would get, the super helio would give Era’s skin a warm glow and energize her. It always did. If only they opened helio sector for recreation every day.
A guard, his face coated in sweat, stood next to the scanner. He nodded to them as they swiped their shift cards.
They stepped into the vast space, and Era took a deep breath, relishing the sweet air. A new Earth would smell like this, infused with the clean air plants make.
The super helio hovered near the high ceiling, too bright to look at, and a crowd of colonists basked beneath it.
Helio sector’s tall, white hydropods had been moved to the edges of the space. The Paragon had hundreds of them—more than Era had ever seen in one place. Probably nowhere near the number the Meso had, but still more than any of the other dekas. And this wasn’t even all of them. There were more hydropods on Zero Deck. Other sectors that were off-limits—where they grew and made medicine.
Greens poked out of each pod, creating an effect like the trees Zephyr had images of on her family’s cubes. Tough to believe these lush greens were the same wilted fare turned out by the galley cooks.
A few colonists strolled the edge of the massive space, and Era and Zephyr dropped in behind them.
Zephyr gripped Era’s hand. “He’s here.”
Tadeo sat near some pods ahead, alone, his arms crossed over his knees, staring out at the crowd gathered in the center of the room. His straight black hair had fallen into his eyes, but he seemed oblivious to it.
“Well, go talk to him,” Era said.
“Come with me,” Zephyr said, dragging Era toward Tadeo.
He glanced up as they approached, and Zephyr dropped Era’s hand. His gaze went straight to Zephyr, and his brown eyes brightened.
“Why you sitting by yourself?” Zephyr asked. “Everyone’s over there.”
“I’m not here to see everyone.”
Zephyr looked like she was about to swoon right into Tadeo’s waiting lap.
Someone really needed to file an image of this boy’s face in the archives, under the word ‘enigma’. “I’m going to go wait for Dritan.”
Zephyr nodded without looking at Era and dropped down next to Tadeo on the floor.
Era continued walking the space and kept her eye on the entrance.
She’d walked half the sector when she saw the guards up ahead. Her stomach clenched, and she slowed her pace.
The guard closest to her stood straight, sweat dripping down his face, and watched the crowd. One hand rested on his pulse gun, as if he thought he might actually need to use it here.
Behind the guards, President Nyssa Sorenson and her fourteen-year-old daughter Tesmee sat on a blanket. Instead of standard helio suits, they wore sleeveless beige suits that looked new.
Era let out a breath and tried not to stare as she walked past, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d been here months and had only caught a few glimpses of the president and Tesmee.
The president wore her hair styled in a perfect blond bun kept in place by shiny metal pins. But her well-groomed appearance was marred by the deep lines creasing her face and the dark circles under her eyes. She shifted on the blanket and glanced toward the exit.
Tesmee looked nothing like her mother. Era had seen Tesmee’s father once. He’d been of Earth-Asian ancestry. Tesmee had his eyes and his straight black hair. She stared out at the crowd, shoulders slumped, longing on her face.
Tesmee’s father had died in a transport accident when the fleet first got to Soren two years ago. If rumor in the fleet was to be believed, she wasn’t ever allowed to leave Command home level by herself.
Era tore her gaze from the girl and headed for the crowd at the center. Dritan should be here. Zephyr and Tadeo were still in the same spot she’d left them. They talked, sitting close enough to touch, but neither of them looked at the other.
Era settled on the hard tile floor, and a moment later Dritan plopped down beside her. He pressed his lips to hers for a quick kiss, then cocked his head in Zephyr’s direction. “Went after the heir of the Meso, huh? Guess heading up one ship isn’t enough.”
Era jabbed him in the side. “Stop it. Give her a chance. She’s easy to love once you get to know her.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like her.”
“Well she thinks you don’t.” Era lowered her voice. “Any news on the breach?”
“They’re looking into the panels we did.” Dritan rubbed his arm. “But they’ll see our work was good. Are you feeling okay today?”
“Haven’t been sick at all.” Era leaned back on her elbows. If Dritan wasn’t worried, why should she be? The president would see his work was good, and this would all go away.
A young girl with dark skin and braids bounced past, laughing as another child chased her. Era smiled. Today would feel special for them, a day free of the boredom and routine of hours spent in caretaker sector. Would she and Dritan someday sit here like this, watching their own child play?
Dritan must have had a similar thought because he gently placed a hand over the rise of her belly. A tiny flutter reverberated through Era’s womb, and she gasped.
“What?” Dritan sat up straight.
“Nothing. I thought I felt…” It was too soon for that, wasn’t it? Babies moved. A ‘collection of cells’ didn’t.
“You thought you felt what?”
“I thought…” Another tiny flutter. Era licked her lips and glanced sidelong at the couple sitting next to them.
“I think I just felt it move,” she whispered.
Dritan looked at her stomach. When he met her gaze, his hazel eyes had a new shine to them. “You sure? Does it mean…”
Does it mean our baby’s healthy?
“I’m not—” Era clamped her mouth shut, her eyes drawn to a scene at the entrance.
A group of guards had walked through the doors. The one at the front, with silver-brown hair and broad shoulders, turned and lifted his comcuff to his mouth. Chief Petroff.
Era leaned into Dritan, every muscle in her body tight.
The chief gestured to the other guards. They activated their eyepieces and began moving through the crowd.
The president and Tesmee came into view at the far side of the room, accompanied by two of their guards. They were heading for the exit. Era clutched Dritan’s arm and felt him wince as her nails dug into him.
One of the guards stopped in front of a group of colonists near Era and Dritan. A man rose to his feet, and Dritan tensed beneath Era’s tight grip.
The man was one of Dritan’s crew members—one of the maintenance workers from the list. He lunged for the guard and ripped the pulse gun from his holster. Then he darted forward, pushed through the colonists blocking his path, and went straight for Tesmee and the president.
The guards didn’t see him coming. He ducked around them and tackled Tesmee to the floor.
The area around Era grew quiet as the colonists near Era saw what she saw. The man had the pulse gun pressed against Tesmee’s temple. Her eyes were wide, riveted to her mother. The president stood still, her face pale.
Dritan leapt to his feet. Era tried to drag him back down, but he brushed her off and jogged straight for the guards. A small moan escaped Era’s lips, and she went after him. What did he think he could do that the guards couldn’t?
Dritan stopped just behind the uncertain guards, his body rigid, his fists clenched tight at his sides. Era reached him and laid a hand on his arm.
The attacker’s face was coated in sweat, and the hand holding the pulse gun to Tesmee’s temple shook. His wild eyes were focused on the President. “…I will. Gonna kill her. You think I care what happens to me? You took everything from me.”
“Stop. Let her go.” The president’s voice wavered. “We’ll forget about this. You’re clearly—”
“The Defect is a lie. A lie. You killed our baby. You killed my wife—sent her to that planet. You’re gonna pay for that.”
The president went white and shook her head. She stole a glance at her guards, but none of them seemed to know what to do.
The Defect is a lie?
Dritan shifted, and Era squeezed his arm. He pulled away from her and stepped in front of the guards.
“Wait.” The president jerked one hand out to stop the guards. To stop Dritan.
But he walked past her and squatted down a few feet in front of his crewmate. “Sam.”
“Dritan.” Recognition dawned on Sam’s face. “Your wife—your wife’s pregnant. Dritan, it’s a lie. The Defect isn’t real. They’ll kill yours like they killed mine. I gotta stop her. One by one, everyone dies—”
“Sam. Listen to me. You said Lynn was proud to serve on Soren. That she believed in this fleet.”
Tears began to leak from Sam’s eyes, and he looked back at the president. “She killed them.” His nostrils flared, and he pressed the pulse gun deeper into Tesmee’s temple. She whimpered.
The president lifted a hand to her mouth. The rest of the guards arrived, finally aware of what was taking place. They clustered near the president, pulse guns primed.
Dritan inched closer. “Sam, look at me. Lynn would never want you to take another kid’s life.”
“It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters. They’re gonna take me out, too, and she’s coming with me.” Sam shifted his hate-filled gaze to the president, and adjusted his finger on the pulse gun. One small movement, and it would go off, taking a chunk of Tesmee’s skull with it.
Dritan held out a hand and said something too low for anyone but Tesmee and Sam to hear. Sam hesitated and stared at the high ceiling for a long moment.
His whole body went limp, and he shoved the pulse gun into Dritan’s waiting palm. The guards were on Sam in seconds, and Tesmee scrambled into her mother’s arms.