Diffraction

by Jess Anastasi

  Varean crossed his arms, first launching into the story from where the Imojenna’s crew had split up, so Rian had all the details, bringing them to where he’d been approached by the two Mar’keish on Barasa and then on to how he could access the different consciousnesses of both human and Reidar, ending with finding Rian in the Reidar hive mind and bringing them both back by accessing his Mar’keish abilities.

  “It’s a lot to take in,” Varean finished. Really, he didn’t expect them to all just believe him and go along with it. This went way beyond the realms of outlandish into downright preposterous.

  “If I hadn’t seen that energy blast out of your hands myself, I’d be calling bullshite on everything right about now,” Forster put in. “We were already like a flying bull’s-eye to the Reidar. If we add some kind of super-freak to our lot, then it’s going to make us that much more of a target.”

  “Honestly, Qae, you might be right,” Rian replied. “But they won’t succeed. Because Varean won’t be alone. Believe me, we’re better off with the doc’s new boyfriend in our pocket.”

  A slight flush of color stained Kira’s cheeks, but he tightened his hold on her, drawing her closer. Damn, he wasn’t a fourteen year old, but he liked the idea of being Kira’s boyfriend way more than a grown-ass man should.

  “Right.” Forster clapped his hands together, pushing to his feet. “We’re five days out from the Barbary Belt, unless we want to pay another gazillion credits to go through a transit gate again. Much as I love you, cuz, you need to get your own damn ship back, ’cause I ain’t gonna be no one’s chauffeur.”

  “Don’t worry, Qae,” Rian muttered darkly. “Getting the Imojenna back is right up there on my list of priorities.”

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use a good meal and a decent few hours’ sleep,” Forster tossed over his shoulder as he headed out of the cargo hold.

  The combined crews all broke into smaller groups, some following Forster and some heading elsewhere in the ship.

  Varean turned to look down at Kira where she still sat on the crate.

  She stared up at him, a hint of wariness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. “So you’re like some kind of superman now?”

  His lips lifted in a half grin. “Not even close. I’m not invincible, I can still bleed, and I can still be killed. And there is a downside to using the Reidar consciousness. Too much, and I risk getting lost to the darkness. I could end up just as evil and psychotic as the aliens. La’thar and Ko’en warned me, and I felt it firsthand before I found my Mar’keish abilities. I’m still the same man. Just consider that I have a few upgrades.”

  She pushed to her feet, bringing herself up against him as she wound her arms around his shoulders, her gaze becoming warm, loving, and trusting.

  “Interesting. And are any of these upgrades going to be beneficial to me? For purely scientific reasons, I mean.” Her irreverent grin told him the exact opposite to any of this being scientific.

  He leaned in closer, relishing the comfort and security of having her against him. “I don’t know. How about we go find out?”

  Epilogue

  The infamous Tripoli bazaar bustled with late evening crowds, people coming out in the pleasant temperate night air after the smothering humidity of the day. Women in exotic and expensive clothing shopped, people from all walks of life drank and gambled in booths and through the walkways. Scents of every type of food and cuisine throughout the galaxy blended to create a riot for the senses.

  Even though the Ebony Winter had landed less than an hour ago, after five days with too many people on his cousin’s small Sylph class ship, Rian hadn’t returned to the berth on the Swift Brion that Zander had offered him or to the mansion-like guesthouse Corsair Rene Blackstone had set aside for their use when they were in the Barbary Belt. As the sun set into an orange-pink ball behind the thick green of the jungle mountains outside the city, he left everyone wearily disembarking and going their separate ways to get himself lost in the winding streets and alleys of the bazaar instead.

  He’d purchase a bottle of Violaine from the first trader he’d found, since the rest of his supply was stowed on the Imojenna, wherever she was out in the universe right now.

  The thought of his missing ship uncharacteristically made his insides squeeze, setting off a burn through his limbs he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember. But that was only marginally better than the acid-like smolder in his guts whenever he thought of Callan and Sen.

  Damn it. He took a swig of the Violaine, bottle emptying too fast, considering he didn’t have a second.

  The crew had organized a memorial or some frecking thing for the following day. He’d join them, but he hated all that standing around and talking about people in ways that didn’t really reflect the life they’d actually lived.

  Take Callan. He’d been a son of a bitch on his best of days, regularly flipped off the whole chain of command, and didn’t have a sensitive bone in his body, especially when it came to women. But he’d been their son of a bitch. And without his universal-class forgery skills, they’d have ended up on Erebus a long time ago.

  So, no, he didn’t really prescribe to the whole celebration-of-a-dead-man’s-life thing, but he’d go because Zahli expected him to, and because it was important to the rest of his crew.

  He dropped down on a vacant seat roughly carved out of a local white wood, situated under a couple of tall swaying trees, the fronds flicking back and forth in the slight breeze. This time, his swig from the bottle was more contemplative. There was something almost hypnotic, something calming, in the busy, raucous crowds. For a moment he was just a guy on a seat drinking his Violaine without a need to be anywhere else.

  “Clearly I’m spending too much time around you.”

  Rian glanced up to see Qae standing a few steps away, holding his own bottle of Violaine. His cousin closed the distance and sat beside him.

  “You know, I never thought I liked this stuff.” Qae held up the bottle, still well over three-quarters full, unlike his own that was already half empty. “But I’m beginning to see the appeal. Plus, apparently pirates love this kind of poison, so as long as we’re in the Barbary Belt, I’ve got to make like a native.”

  “Yeah? Well that also includes being able to walk straight once you’ve downed that bottle.”

  Qae shot him an indignant glare. “Are you saying I can’t hold my drinks?”

  “Drinks? Yes. Violaine… I guess we’ll find out shortly.”

  “That we will.” Qae leaned over to clink their bottles together. “Here’s to those dick-faced shite-gibbons, the Reidar. May you all burn in hell.”

  Tipping back his head, his cousin took a long swallow of the Violaine, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

  “So, how’s your revenge plotting coming along?” Qae set his bottle on the seat next to him then clasped his hands together.

  “What makes you think I’m plotting?” Not anywhere near ready to relinquish his own hard comfort, he took another drink to avoid looking at his cousin.

  “Because that’s what you do. People get killed, and you go off on these crazy vendettas of blood and slaughter.”

  He cut an annoyed, sideways glare at Qae. “Then I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear the only plotting I’m doing right now is how to get my frecking ship back. Though no doubt there’ll be some level of bloodshed involved.”

  “Of course. I’d be worried if there wasn’t.” The usual cynical gleam left Qae’s eyes. “What are you going to do?”

  “Since I’m not the marauder in the family, I’m not actually sure.” He shifted, slinging an arm across the back of the seat to look directly at his cousin. “I’m going to need you on this, Qae.”

  “You got it. Whatever you need.”

  Though he’d already assumed he could rely on Qae to help him get the Imojenna back, hearing him say the words quelled some of the smoldering in his guts.

  “First, we need to find her.” Aro
und them, a few fat stray drops of rain splattered the ground.

  “I’ve got people I can reach out to.” Qae gripped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Rian, we’ll get your ship back.”

  “I know we will.” He didn’t doubt for a second that they’d recover the Imojenna. The problem was, how much more would it cost him by the time he did?

  Qae grabbed his bottle and stood. “There’s a bar down the way me and the crew like to frequent. You coming?”

  “Maybe in a few.”

  Qae nodded and headed off, weaving through the crowd that was starting to shift more quickly now that rain was periodically sprinkling from the sky.

  After getting slowly to his feet, Rian set off in the opposite direction, checking the various displays and stands as he went. At last, he came across the kind of stall he’d been searching for—one selling wind chimes, colorful hanging decorations, woven blankets, and jewelry. But not the glitzy gold and diamond type. The earthy type made from natural products like wood, crystal, and stone. He stopped in front of the trays displaying loose beads, glancing over the options. A few moments of poking around and he found what he needed. A platinum bead, chunky, dully polished, looking like it could withstand nuclear fallout, for Callan, and a smaller, unusual bead made from rusted metium and alloy, similar to a ship’s hull, for Sen.

  Lastly, he grabbed a generic white crystal bead to add to the other dozen or more similar white crystal beads already on his wristband. For every time he’d been directly or indirectly responsible for the Reidar killing innocent people on a mass scale.

  He set his half-finished bottle of Violaine on the table while he pulled out a few credits to pay for the beads. He glanced down at the band, hating the thing as much as he needed it.

  A tingle of energy trickled down his spine, and without looking up he knew Ella was near. Unable to help himself, he glanced across the bazaar, where she appeared out of the crowd and floated toward him, no doubt totally aware of his exact location.

  They hadn’t spoken since the cargo hold of the Marsala, before he’d nearly died. Again. But not because either of them were avoiding each other or everything that had passed between them. More because nothing needed to be said.

  Yeah, he’d kissed her, and it had been a kind of revelation, but compared to almost dying and everything he’d found out from the commando, one short kiss didn’t need to be scrutinized and analyzed down to the nth degree.

  She stepped under the awning of the trader’s tent, movements graceful and efficient as always. He didn’t bother greeting her. Those kinds of awkward pleasantries had become pointless. There was no denying they had a connection that transcended whatever feelings he may or may not have. He still might not understand what that connection was, what it meant, or where it would lead them. But Donnelly’s blast of imparting knowledge while they’d been in the collective human consciousness had undeniably changed something within him.

  Whether it was for better or worse, he couldn’t say yet. It certainly hadn’t taken away his bitter rage, the pain, the hatred, or his demon-self lurking in shadows at the back of his mind, bloodthirsty and yearning for death, waiting to take him over when he was at his weakest. That part he now knew was the Reidar’s hold on him he couldn’t shake.

  Ella stopped at his side and gently took hold of the band around his wrist.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, not in an accusatory way, more with plain curiosity. He’d never let anyone witness the not-quite ritual of adding notches to his penance, but he didn’t feel like Ella was butting in on his personal custom, because she understood in a way no one else did.

  Without a word, she unfastened the clasp. She took the new beads from him and wove them into the band with steady, nimble fingers, taking half the time it probably would have taken him. In a matter of moments, she had the band refastened around his wrist, fingers lightly brushing his skin with a teasing hint of warmth.

  Above them, on the stretched fabric of the tent, the chatter of quick splats got faster—the balmy tropical shower opening into a downpour. Ella let go of the band at his wrist and looked up at him, the lamps the trader had strung up to illuminate her wares against the night shadows casting a deeper golden glow across Ella’s flawless skin, catching a deeper green in her mossy eyes.

  “Why did you come here?” he murmured, stepping closer to her, leaving only a breath between.

  “This time, the beads are my weight to bear, as well.”

  He shook his head. “You weren’t responsible for Jensen and Callan. Your warning saved the rest of us.”

  “But as you have so readily pointed out, I could have done more. I could have acted first. I could have remembered my training, had discipline over my emotions, and not lost control when it really mattered. Next time I won’t fail.”

  There was a boldness, a stubborn strength in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

  She shifted away, holding his gaze in a way that made his heart bump against the inside of his chest. He still hated that she’d seen his worst secrets, the darkest places in his soul, the monster he lived with and barely controlled. Yet her knowledge chipped away at the wall between him and everyone else that he’d always considered to be impenetrable. It was a long way from coming down, but the damn thing wasn’t impervious, those small dents a tiny light in a vast darkness.

  Ella took another step back, and he abandoned his bottle of Violaine to pursue her. Another step took her out into the warm, pounding rain, but he didn’t hesitate, going after her, barely noticing the wetness soaking through his clothes.

  He reached out for her, and his fingers brushed her jawline. A smile tilted her lips upward, and she shook her head. Before he could decipher exactly what that meant, she spun, slipping through the rushing crowd of people trying to get out of the rain and disappearing from sight.

  Rian let his arm drop back to his side, water rushing over him, washing off the past five days of being cramped in a ship with too many other people. Cleaning off the near death, the fighting, the running and hiding they’d been doing for months on end before that.

  He’d lost his ship. He still had no plan on how to stop the Reidar or get his revenge. He still didn’t see any other end for himself except total bloody destruction. And he was still a broken shell of himself, bringing danger and death to everyone who followed him.

  But life was fluid. He’d thought himself stuck, trapped by the past, by what the Reidar had done to him, by the things he’d done himself.

  Those things still existed inside him. But he could see now that they weren’t holding him down, they were pushing him forward, that the answer didn’t lay in trying to escape or outrun his past. The answer came in embracing it. In understanding and using what he’d been given to control his future.

  Yes, the Reidar had remade him into a weapon in that godforsaken lab.

  And the only thing more deadly than a weapon used against others was a weapon turned on its creator.

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  Author’s Note

  “Well, is Rian next?” I hear many of you asking. Just how much longer can I possibly drag out this story before the crew finally get their shite together?

  Sorry, but that’s going to have to remain one of life’s mysteries for the time being.

  I can tell you with all certainty that the hero in the 4th book, Entropy, will be Rian’s not-a-space-pirate cousin, Qaelan. Ah, I see that perked you right up. Yeah, Qae is something else, all right. Along with Qae, Rian will have his usual page-time, but I don’t imagine getting the Imojenna back will be all that easy or come without some cost. But that’s a story for another day.

  Acknowledgments

  Though my wonderful editor, Robin Haseltine, assured me otherwise, I felt like Diffraction was one of those books that fought hard before we were able to break it in and turn it into th
e story that’s now on these pages. I have to say, I was very glad to see these edits behind me!

  So as always and forever, thank you, Robin. You already know how awesome I think you are, and that these books would not be the same without your particular eye when it comes to my stories.

  Secondly, and no less importantly, I have to say a huge thank you and shout out to my agent, Nicole Resciniti. I have come so far this year alone, learned so much, been wowed by your energy and absolute belief in me and my books. You were the missing element in my little team, and it might be a cliché to say, but under your care and guidance, I feel like the stars are the limit. I’m looking forward to reaching those heights with you, because I’m sure it’s going to be one hell of a ride!

  Next, I need Liz Pelletier, Tera Cuskaden, and the rest of the team at Entangled, who have been involved in the Atrophy series and securing the future of my books, to know how grateful and thankful I am for your continued support and the amazing faith you’ve put in the continuation of this series. A few years ago, I could have only imagined such opportunities, and now through you, I am seeing my dreams come true.

  And lastly, like always, thank you to my family. Without your love, without the chaos, the laughter, the mess, the general craziness of day to day life, all of this would be pointless.

  About the Author

  Jess has been making up stories ever since she can remember. Though her messy handwriting made it hard for anyone else to read them, she wasn’t deterred, and now she gets to make up stories for a living. She loves loud music and a good book on a rainy day and probably spends too much time watching too many TV shows. Jess lives in regional Victoria, Australia, with her very supportive husband, three daughters, two hyperactive border collie dogs, and a cat who thinks he’s one of the kids.