All the Stars Left Behind

by Ashley Graham

  She woke early for her appointment on the mainland. On the drive to the tunnel, Grams stopped at an intersection, and Leda glanced outside. A gray blur, like human-shaped fog, moved toward a house.

  She sat up straighter in the front passenger seat. The blur paused near a window on the first floor. A second blur joined the first, and the two worked the window free. Then one of the blurs materialized into a boy with shaggy, lion’s mane hair.

  Leda narrowed her gaze as Grams pulled forward, waiting to enter the tunnel in the morning congestion. Even from this distance, she recognized the build and the hair. She’d spent enough time staring at the guy to know it had been Roar.

  Chapter Five

  “I can’t find Stein.”

  Standing in Arne’s shop with a broom in one hand, Roar pulled his phone away from his ear and stared at the screen, like it might rewind time or decrypt Oline’s random statement.

  “Okay,” he said quietly, aware of Leda sitting in the corner across the room. Roar set the broom against the wall and stepped outside. “I didn’t know he was missing.”

  “Well, he is. His guardian said he’d gone off somewhere the other day and never came home last night.”

  Roar pressed his eyes shut and took a long, slow breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The mission was simple: fly to Earth, play refugee aliens, find the weapon, and return to Aurelis. Nowhere in his training did it tell him what to do if one of his crew members ran away.

  “The last time I saw him, he did his disappearing act right in front of me. In the middle of the road, Roar. He’s taking risks, and we can’t afford risks. We need to find him,” Oline pressed.

  “I know.” From his pocket, Roar took the faceless coin-shaped disc and rippled it over his knuckles. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll get Petrus.”

  Oline clicked off without saying good-bye.

  Not even halfway through my shift. He pressed a thumb to his temple. What else could go wrong? Well, Leda might catch him staring at her again and kick him off the property.

  “Something the matter?”

  Roar startled at Arne’s voice. He spun around, hiding the disc behind his back. “Uh—” He broke off, seeing Leda in the doorway. A thousand sharp-winged birds took flight in his gut and his skin vibrated.

  Her brows arched, like she knew what she did to him. “Trouble in paradise?”

  He swallowed. “Little emergency.”

  “Go take care of it,” Arne said, his tone insistent.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.” Arne held out a wad of kroner. “For today.”

  “I can’t take your money.” Over Arne’s shoulder, Roar saw Leda watching him. Standing without her crutches. She looked…different today. Exactly why, he didn’t know, and he wasn’t about to look too close. Whenever he laid eyes on this girl, he lost chunks of time and did things that were so out of character, he didn’t recognize himself.

  “I can’t not pay you for your work today.”

  In the hour he’d spent at Arne’s shop, Roar mostly moved wood around, handed tools when they were asked for, and swept the floor. “Fine,” Roar said, accepting the cash. He split the stack of bills and gave the larger half back. “But I’m not taking it all.”

  Arne smiled and Leda’s eyes flashed wide in obvious surprise. She couldn’t hide her emotions.

  Once he said good-bye, Roar jogged down the street to his house, the disc squeezed in his palm. He didn’t take his shoes or jacket off when he shut the door behind him.

  Roar bounded through the house until he found Petrus. “We need to talk somewhere private.”

  Understanding flared in Petrus’s eyes when he saw the disc in Roar’s hand. Petrus went to his dresser and pulled a false bottom out of the top drawer. “You slip this into Charlie’s coffee.” He gave Roar a tiny vial filled with clear liquid. “I’ll contact the others.”

  Roar had never poisoned anyone before. He didn’t care much about Charlie, but he didn’t want the guy harmed. “You’re sure this stuff won’t hurt him?”

  “He’ll sleep,” Petrus signed. “For about forty hours or so. When he wakes up, he’ll have one hell of a headache, but that’s all.”

  “Okay.” Roar took a shaky breath and headed for the stairs, the vial tucked in his sleeve and the coin safe in his pocket.

  Charlie was in his office, hunched in front of a whiteboard. Roar noticed his coffee cup was empty and relief settled over him for a moment. Clearing his throat, Roar said, “Can I refill your cup?”

  Startled, Charlie looked up, a couple of dots of marker near his mouth where he must have tapped the felt tip against his face instead of the back of the marker. Then he peered down at his empty mug. “Oh yes, yes, yes. Coffee. Please.”

  With a slight tremble in his fingers, Roar carried the mug to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure how old the half-empty pot in the coffeemaker was, so he boiled the kettle for a fresh cup. While the water heated up, he scooped a spoonful of coffee crystals into the mug and dropped a spoon in. Charlie took his coffee black and strong which would help mask any flavor Petrus’s sleeper mixture might have.

  He dumped the contents of the vial into the mug. Coffee granules melted and bubbled, then settled. Roar sniffed the mixture. All he smelled was bitter coffee and some of the tension in his shoulders deflated. The kettle boiled and he filled the cup with hot water, stirred well, and carried the mug to Charlie’s office. He watched Charlie down a quarter of the mug in one breath, then another sip.

  “Mm, this is good. Best cup…” Charlie paused to finish the mug off. “I’ve ever…had.” Charlie brought his hand to his head, confusion pinching his brows tight. “I feel sort of—” He drifted into what Roar assumed was Croatian, and Roar had to catch Charlie before he fell.

  Lifting Charlie up was easier than he thought it would be—the guy weighed next to nothing. Roar set him on the sofa in the corner of the office. He was about to leave, but he grabbed the wool blanked from the back of the sofa and pulled it over Charlie so he wouldn’t get cold. He didn’t know how long this would take.

  Roar met Petrus by the door, and Roar grabbed the keys to the Jeep from the hook. They stepped outside in time to see Oline running up the street. Snow-white strands slipped from the clip and danced by her shoulders. Somehow, Oline always looked like a delicate princess, though he knew better.

  “I’ll drive,” she said, snatching the keys from Roar, her nails long and human’s blood red. “The last time you were at the helm, you almost steered us into a sun that was ten minutes away from going super nova.”

  Embarrassment pricked the back of Roar’s neck. “That was an accident.”

  “Don’t tease him,” Petrus signed. “He can’t help it if his sense of direction only leads one way.”

  “And thank the stars for that.” Oline popped the locks and everyone piled in. “Hey Petrus, any word from Stein?”

  Petrus shook his head.

  “We’ll find him,” Oline said, her eyes on Roar in the rearview mirror. “And make him see reason.”

  Roar frowned. “I hope you’re right.”

  “You know I am.” Oline flashed a quick grin. “What have you guys been up to?”

  Petrus signed, “Roar’s been spending time with a girl.”

  Heat prickled Roar’s face and his self-defense instincts kicked into gear. “I work for her uncle. That’s all.”

  Oline raised a thin blond brow. “Sure. What does she look like?”

  Beautiful in an exotic kind of way, and probably the saddest girl he’d ever seen. Roar shifted in his seat. “Can we talk about something else?”

  Oline laughed, her voice light and airy. “That, right there, is what gives you away.”

  Roar steered the conversation away from himself. “Let’s focus on one issue at a time, guys. Like Stein’s behavior. Any of you noticed how bitter he’s gotten since we came down to the surface?”

  “He was bitter before,” Oline pointed out.

  “Yea
h, but not this bitter. On the journey here, I could at least have a conversation with him. Now, it’s different. And he looks tired all the time.”

  Petrus signed: “Drinking doesn’t help him there.”

  “No,” Roar agreed.

  “It’s a big change,” Oline said, “coming here from Aurelis.”

  “Nah, that’s not it.” From the changes in him since they arrived on Earth, Roar figured something was going on with Stein and he could assume himself into a corner wondering what. But unless Stein opened up, there was no way of knowing.

  From the front seat, Petrus snapped his fingers, getting Roar’s attention. “Don’t worry too much about Stein. He’s going through a lot right now.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do. The drinking and aggression is just a side effect of stress and pressure.”

  “Stress from what, though? Aren’t we all under a lot of pressure? Maybe he deals with it differently. But the rest of us are keeping our heads together the best we can, and none of us are getting drunk and blowing cover. If we don’t find the weapon and get back home, we all know what’ll happen.”

  “You’re right,” Petrus signed. “But there’s more than what you see and know.”

  “So I should go easy on him?”

  Petrus shook his head. “No. Just treat he—” Petrus’s hands stilled but his eyes flashed with some unknown emotion. “Treat him like you’d treat any one of us who stepped out of line.”

  Though Roar wanted to push Petrus to find out what he meant, he was too tired to argue and Petrus had already turned in his chair, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

  Twenty minutes after they left Vardø in Charlie’s Jeep, Oline pulled off the road and headed up a steep incline, the truck’s suspension and four-wheel drive kicking in over the unforgiving rocky terrain. Chocolate bars shuffled in the glove compartment. Roar’s stomach received the same knock-around treatment.

  Oline stopped the Jeep in front of a small lake and motioned for the others to get out. Standing on the ground next to the vehicle, Oline pressed a finger against it—color bled to the ground, leaving the truck almost invisible. It was dark enough out here that no one would see the Jeep unless they were up close and looking for it.

  Petrus walked to the edge of the water and waited. Roar took Oline’s arm—she insisted on wearing skyscraper-tall heeled boots and shoes, even on outings like this. She muttered about the outdoors and how it ruined her footwear, and that Roar and Petrus were going to replace her boots. Like that was going to happen.

  Nervous energy bubbled over his skin like a plague as Roar walked to the edge of the lake. Petrus glanced around to be sure they were alone, then raised his left hand and flicked his index finger at the water, making it part. Over the years, training with the Elders back on Aurelis, Roar had seen Petrus do some crazy stuff, but this morning he’d pulled out all the stops.

  Roar’s shoes squelched in the soft mud on the lakebed. Walls of water glistened and fluctuated on either side of the path and Roar couldn’t hear his own thoughts over the powerful sound of the wind. A strong current buffeted him, making every step a challenge. Up ahead, Petrus’s short hair waved wildly. Roar’s calf muscles burned as they journeyed deeper toward the middle of the lake, which seemed to take forever. Petrus came to a halt and motioned to Roar.

  He stepped forward and held the coin flat in his palm. The coin pulsed, emitting a white light around the outer edge, and it lifted up and floated above his hand. A tinkling, like tiny pieces of hail dropping on a tin roof, filled Roar’s mind. He felt it deep inside, in his bones and muscles, riding through his veins. The coin grew to more than twice the size of the Jeep, elongated, becoming spherical, then stretched to a tube-like oval on its side. Once the change had concluded, the disc resembled a large, smooth, pearlescent ovoid hovering a couple inches above the ground. They had two spare shuttles, which they kept as back-ups for emergencies. This was one of them.

  When all three of them stepped inside, Petrus released the walls of water, and for a brief moment, the shuttle was pummeled. Then the inertial dampeners kicked in.

  Oline released an annoyed breath. “I’m tempted to lock Stein in the brig on Equinox where I know he can’t get into any trouble.” The brig contained a force field that nothing could escape, not even Stein.

  Roar thought about Oline’s suggestion. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”

  Petrus stood between them. “No one’s locking anyone up, unless absolutely necessary.”

  “Fine. Why is it always so hot inside this thing?” Oline pouted as she stripped down to her bra and underwear.

  Roar cleared his throat and focused on Petrus. “I may have a short-term solution for Stein’s outbursts.”

  Petrus signed, “What?”

  “The Elders gave me something to use only in case of an emergency. I’d say almost blowing our cover counts as an emergency, wouldn’t you?”

  Petrus nodded.

  From a hidden panel near the entrance, Roar grabbed a small pouch and removed its contents. He tucked it in his pocket. “Here’s how we’ll do this. Oline, you’ll bring him here,” Roar said. “Petrus, you distract him, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  Roar dropped down in the pilot’s chair and began powering up the pod. Oline sat at the radar screen. No one needed to be told what to do now; they had their roles. Petrus sat next to Roar and joined in for pre-flight checks.

  Unlike Earth aircraft, their technology was genetics based and required touch sensors. Roar rested his arms on the armrests. On the ends, soft, squishy mounds filled his palms, pulsing and moving until they fit perfectly in his hands. Then he pulled in the power from the shuttle, combining it with his own, and lifted the shuttle up.

  Soon they were soaring through the atmosphere with the cloak engaged so the humans wouldn’t detect them. From their position, Roar could see the International Space Station, a hodge-podge of silver and white and solar panels looming above the Earth.

  Roar established orbit. “Everyone ready?”

  “I see Stein,” Oline said. “Want me to bring him up?”

  Roar nodded. “Do it.”

  A moment later, Stein appeared in the shuttle—his energy signature snatched from Bangkok, Roar saw on the screen. When Stein realized where he was, he tried to take a swing at Roar, but in his state, Stein’s reflexes were no match for Roar. Bloodshot eyes and the spicy scent of Stein’s breath were all the clues Roar needed. Stein had been drinking again. A lot.

  Rage filled Roar’s vision, and he grabbed Stein by the back of the neck and held him firmly in place.

  “Bravo, you wanker,” Oline said with a scowl. She had picked up the phrase while watching some idiotic Earth show from the United Kingdom. “You don’t even think, do you? No, you just do whatever you feel like, because you’re Stein, and everybody should bow down to you.”

  Stein swayed on his feet, a scowl on his lips. “Whatever.”

  Petrus signed: “Get over yourself, Stein.”

  “Screw you,” he replied.

  Petrus shook his head. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  For the first time since Roar met him, Stein blushed.

  Using Stein’s level of distraction against him, Roar said, “This is for your own good, Stein.”

  Frantic, Stein glanced around. “The hell are you talking about?”

  Using all the speed he could muster, Roar stripped Stein’s shirtsleeve off and clamped the armband around his bicep. Burning pain shot through Roar’s fingertips and he yanked his hand away from the device. A thin layer of sweat coated Stein’s brow as he scraped his nails over the armband. Then Stein went paler than Petrus. Oline rushed over, holding an empty firstaid kit near Stein’s face, just in time.

  Petrus looked like he felt Stein’s pain tenfold. The alcohol in Stein’s system must have sharpened his pain receptors, making Petrus experience a higher reaction. Roar balled his hands into fists so he wouldn’t slap Ste
in in the back of the head.

  Mercifully, Stein finished retching and blacked out.

  “Ew, ew, ew!” Oline held the first aid kit as far away from her body as she could. “Someone take this, please!”

  Since he was closest, Roar grabbed the kit and Oline jumped to her station. A blink later, the kit vanished. Teleported outside of the shuttle. Only a drip remained on Roar’s hand. Gross. He wiped his hand on his jeans, hoping the puke burned up on entry into Earth’s atmosphere.

  Oline used the sanitation station on the shuttle, then took her seat again. “Let’s do something useful while we wait for Stein to wake up.”

  Roar nodded and dropped into the chair at the tactical station. “Good idea.”

  The only sounds in the shuttle were the ping, ping, ping of virtual artillery hitting satellite marks as Roar played target practice, the whisper of Oline’s fingers sliding over her console, Stein’s snoring, and Petrus chewing the inside of his cheek as he read, a constant squelching sound.

  “Um, guys?” Oline said.

  Stein groaned as he came to. “I feel like someone shoved me through a cheese grater.”

  Petrus met Stein’s eyes, his expression sympathetic. “That’s what drinking an entire bottle of vodka in one go does to you.”

  Oline huffed. “Hello…”

  Ignoring her, Stein turned a sneering glare at Roar. “What the hell else am I supposed to do while shit-for-brains here tries to find the damn weapon?”

  “This is kind of important,” Oline pressed.

  “What is it?” Roar moved behind her and examined the screen.

  Oline had been doing a scan of the planet for out of the ordinary things like topographical changes and matching life forms in the pod’s memory banks, as she had on their arrival, before they “surrendered” to the Norwegians. Only this time, the system picked up a new anomaly it hadn’t noticed on Equinox: a small section of the island lit up in Vestervågen, encompassing the area directly beneath—

  “That’s Leda’s place,” Roar whispered. Air inside the pod grew thick.

  Oline glanced up from the screen. “Leda? The girl you had dinner with?”