All the Stars Left Behind

by Ashley Graham

  Roar felt his cheeks heat up. “Yeah.”

  Petrus studied the screen. “An underground and undersea compound? What do people on Vardø need a secret underground shelter for?”

  “I have no idea,” Oline murmured. Her fingers worked briskly over the clear-as-glass key panel. “But it looks like there’s one access point here”—she pointed to the harbor on the screen—“and another here.” Her finger slid over to the main house. “I’m just thinking off the top of my head here, but what if this is weapon related? We have to get in and explore.”

  Her suggestion hung in their ears, and that’s when Roar noticed the three of them staring at him. “You mean me.”

  “You said you work for the uncle,” Oline began.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “And from the way you blushed as silver as my fingernails earlier, it’s safe to say you’ve got a thing for this Leda girl. Spend some more time with her. Sniff around the house and see if you can find any secret passageways.”

  Roar shook his head. Being alone with Leda wasn’t a good idea—he knew that, because he wanted to spend every second with her. Wanted to touch her. Who knew what he’d say or do the next time they were on their own with no social buffers? “In the history of bad ideas, this one would be listed at the very top. It’s most likely some kind of bomb shelter, or a cave.”

  Stein laughed and the sound grated on Roar’s nerves. “You’re pathetic, Roar.”

  “Is that so?” Roar held up a vial of thoreine, a strong pain reliever from Aurelis. “I guess I’ll be holding on to this then.”

  “Give it to me!” Stein snarled.

  Rolling his eyes, Petrus took the syringe from Roar and pressed the pressurized injection tip against Stein’s neck. Relief flooded Stein’s expression instantaneously. Petrus, however, glared at Stein. “Now, about the misuse of your abilities.”

  The blissful moment of silence passed and Stein hardened his gaze. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Fixing a stern gaze on Stein, Petrus signed: “You sound like a child, Stein.”

  “So? You guys only think about me when I do something that makes you think about me.” Turning to Roar, Stein said, “If you’re not up for getting in her pants, I’ll distract Leda while you sneak in and—”

  Roar slammed into him, pressed his forearm against Stein’s throat, cutting him off. “Touch her and you’ll regret it.”

  With a deadpan expression, Stein replied, “More than I regret coming to this shithole in the first place?”

  Hot anger simmered in his gut. Roar took a step back so he wouldn’t smash his fist through Stein’s face. “What’s your problem?”

  “You,” Stein said. “All of you. This whole thing is pointless, so why bother?”

  Oline let out a sigh. “What’s so bad about being a hero? Or is it considered ‘uncool’ in the Big Book of Stein to do anything that might be helpful?”

  Stein looked Oline over. “What do you know of heroics, blondie? When’s the last time you did anything for someone other than yourself?”

  She crossed her arms and arched a brow. “I came here on the same ship you did, didn’t I?”

  An ear-splitting whistle tore through the shuttle. All eyes went to Petrus, who was pulling a thin silver tube from between his lips. With his free hand, he signed, “Grow the hell up already. We’re doing this, and if anyone has a problem, I’ll gladly escort you back to Equinox and lock you in the brig until we find the weapon. Any questions?”

  Silence greeted Petrus’s wordless demand.

  “Good,” Petrus signed. “Here’s what we’re going to do—”

  The shuttle jolted, a grinding, crushing sound ripped through the interior. Roar grabbed the console for support, his heart diving into his gut. Petrus straightened, and Oline jerked from her chair. Quick as a breath, Roar was up and checking the sensors.

  “What was that?” Panic flashing in her eyes, Oline tugged the blanket up to her neck as if it might protect her.

  “Not sure,” Roar said, turning to the screen, “but we’re losing air pressure.”

  Another jolt, this one almost knocking him off his feet. Alarms blared, and a high-pitched wailing with intermittent pulsing squeezed his skull. Life support failure—Roar recognized the sound from training.

  “Screw this,” Stein muttered. “I’m outta here.”

  “It won’t work,” said Roar over the din. “The cuff prevents matter from dissolving. Until I take it off, you’re just like the rest of us.”

  Oline pushed Roar away from her station. “Quit messing around! We need to get out of here before the shuttle’s torn in half!”

  Chapter Six

  But the shuttle wasn’t going anywhere.

  They were plunged into darkness, and blessedly, the alarms cut out. Secondary power flickered on, but a moment later, sparks flew from the communications panel. A flash of light so bright it stung Roar’s eyes filled the shuttle, and in the next breath, Oline screamed. Flames danced up the blanket tangled around her, and she couldn’t break free. She thrashed like a wild animal, desperate and frightened.

  Roar didn’t think. He clawed the blanket from Oline’s shoulders and yanked her across the room, away from danger. Scorched shreds of the blanket fell to the floor, then were eaten up by the flames. Oline trembled in Roar’s arms, though she didn’t cry. She was too strong for that—too proud.

  The floor beneath Roar bucked and shuddered, sending him sprawling backward, and his head connected with the wall. White dots flashed in his vision as pain lanced through his skull. His stomach lurched.

  “Get this thing off me,” Stein yelled, “and I can take us home!”

  The shuttle twisted again, and vibrations rippled so strong that they clattered in Roar’s bones. Pushing to his feet sapped the last of his strength. He stood and held himself upright on the back of a chair. In a flash, his pulse doubled. “If I remove the armband, then it won’t work again. And you haven’t proved that we can trust you.”

  “Are you insane? We’re going to die if we stay here!”

  Ignoring Stein, Roar palmed the back of his head, scrounging in his mind for a plan. Never thought I’d have to escape from an escape pod.

  Petrus signed: “I rigged the transporter to activate in an emergency. I just have to hit one button and we’ll end up in my room.”

  Stein scowled. “Well, do it already!”

  Through the shuttle’s dim interior, Petrus pressed a large button on the wall, and Roar half expected nothing to happen. Knowing their luck, nothing should’ve happened. But Roar shut his eyes when he felt the tingle of being dematerialized at a molecular level, as if he had been put inside a giant drum and shaken around until he existed as particles of light.

  Not that he understood the process—Roar was just glad everything ended up where it was supposed to when he opened his eyes and found himself standing in Petrus’s bedroom.

  Some of the pressure in his chest eased. Roar looked around. All four of them were present and accounted for. “Everyone okay?”

  Oline slumped on Petrus’s bed, wrapped the covers around her body, and lay motionless. She didn’t reply, and Roar couldn’t blame her.

  Stein tried prying the cuff from his arm. “What the hell happened?”

  Petrus grabbed his tablet and sat beside Oline, no doubt concentrating on finding an answer. Stein tapped the toe of his boot on the hardwood floor. Roar crossed his arms and sighed every few minutes.

  Finally, Petrus glanced up. “This is footage from the external cameras before we evacuated the shuttle.” He held up his tablet and a video began playing.

  Roar watched a sleek, almost transparent black tentacle reach through space, seemingly from nowhere, and wrap around the shuttle. It looked as though the tentacle was trying to crush the shuttle, then smaller appendages appeared along the tentacle’s surface, which reflected the blue halo around Earth. Each small limb grew until they were just as wide as the first, and they clamped down on the shuttl
e, like fifty or so ropes tied in nooses, pulling taut.

  Then the serpentine limbs began spinning the shuttle, and visibly squeezing tighter, until the exterior tore open. Air burst from cracks in the hull and electric flashes lit up, mimicking stars. The tentacles continued their assault. Sparks flared wherever there was oxygen leaking from the shuttle. An extra arm came from nowhere and smashed navigation, life support, and communications. Whatever this thing was, it wanted the four of them dead and knew just how to achieve its goal.

  Black and white lines crackled across the screen, but the camera held out for a few more seconds, capturing the moment the tentacles squeezed the ship so tight, it cracked and flamed. The remains were scattered in orbit, like the pieces of a popped balloon. Roar’s stomach lurched. The pressure in his chest returned, stronger than before.

  We almost died. He’d never come so close before, not even when the Woede showed up and took over Aurelis.

  Who, or what, had attacked them? And why?

  “That’s it,” Stein said. “This mission is officially over. Let’s just get far, far away from this place.”

  Petrus set his tablet down, and when he raised his head, Roar saw storms in his eyes. Petrus signed: “You mean run away?”

  Stein shrugged. “What’s so bad about running when it saves your hide?”

  At that, Roar sneered. “Everything.”

  “As the girl who almost went up in flames,” Oline said, her voice like rocks in a glass jar, “I’d say we need to regroup and find another way to locate this magical, mystical weapon that’ll help us go home and set everything right.”

  “Agreed.” Petrus rolled his shoulders. “Whatever we’re looking for, it’s got to be at Leda’s house. We need to make a stronger effort.”

  Stein folded his arms. “What do you suggest?”

  “First, I need some clothes,” Oline said. “So do Roar and Stein.” She glanced at the singed holes in Roar’s shirt and jeans, and the polka-dot splashes of vomit all over Stein.

  “I’d go get them for you,” offered Stein, “but someone decided I’m not allowed to do anything without supervision.”

  “Give me a break,” Roar said. “Like Petrus told you on the shuttle, you’ve been acting like a child. So, we decided to ground you. Literally. When you start acting your age, we’ll take the cuff off. Until then, you’d better start proving yourself.”

  “This is exactly why I’m not on board with the plan anymore. Everything is shit, and you guys can’t see it.”

  Petrus scowled and his hands moved lightning fast. “Do you think you’re the only person in the world who’s suffering from things beyond their control? The only one who lost people they love? The only one trying to put the pieces of their life back together? You can be so clueless at times.”

  “I—” Stein broke off, uncertainty in his eyes.

  “There’s an Earth saying,” he signed. “‘Can’t see the forest for the trees.’ It explains you perfectly, Stein. Stop looking at the little details for once in your life, and see the big picture.”

  Stein’s mouth remained in a scowl, but his eyes softened. “What’s so special about the big picture?”

  “You really can’t see what’s right in front of your face, can you?” Dark clouds filled Petrus’s eyes. “Or you’re too stupid to accept it.”

  A pale blush in his cheeks, Stein turned and began raiding Petrus’s dresser and closet for a change of clothes, but found nothing that fit.

  So he left the clothes half-folded and hanging from open drawers, and he stormed down the hall to Roar’s room.

  What does he want in my room?

  Roar followed Stein—

  And came inside as Stein picked Roar’s favorite shirt, a dark brown long-sleeved tee with a picture of a sun devouring a solar system, Pac-Man-style. Roar snatched the shirt from Stein and pulled it on.

  “Pick something else,” Roar said, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

  “Screw you.”

  “You already said that one.”

  Stein settled on a plain black sweater and track pants. When he finished dressing, he flashed Roar the finger and ran from the room. Roar heard the door slam shut a moment later.

  He returned to Petrus’s room and slumped against the wall. The image of that…that thing crushing the shuttle flashed in his brain, making his heart clench. He’d known this mission wouldn’t be an easy one, but no one had mentioned invisible inter-dimensional tentacles of doom popping out of nowhere.

  He ran a hand through his hair, fixing his gaze on Oline. She sat on the edge of Petrus’s bed, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of Petrus’s jeans, running her fingers through the length of her snowy hair, removing bits of ash. The room had been put back together in his absence.

  “Roar,” Oline said, her eyes deep and glassy. “Petrus and I both agree that you should invite yourself to Leda’s. Like, as soon as possible. We need to know what they’re hiding down there. Do whatever it takes to find out what.”

  “I know, I know.” Roar sunk his head between his knees. “I don’t want to use her, though.” I like her, he realized. Way more than he should.

  A hand fell on his shoulder. Petrus stood beside him, holding three vials in one hand. “Take these.”

  One for each member of Leda’s family. Roar was afraid of that.

  “Think of everyone back on Aurelis,” continued Oline. “They’re counting on us. On you.”

  As if I needed the reminder. Roar pocketed the vials and held his breath. “I’m not very good at this.”

  “At what? Drugging people? Or with girls?” Oline grinned.

  For someone who had almost died twice in less than an hour, Oline seemed too cheerful. Maybe shock crossed her wires. Roar sighed. Staring at his shoes didn’t help get the words out. “All right. How would you do this, oh wise one?”

  “Just treat her with respect while blinding her with charm. Then, when she’s not looking, slip the draught into her drink or food.”

  Roar snorted. “Right, so you want me to do the impossible.”

  “It’s not that difficult.”

  Roar glanced at Petrus and saw him holding his sides and biting his lip. “This is hopeless,” Roar said.

  Oline examined her nails, then said, “Imagine she’s the only thing in the universe that makes you feel alive.”

  That wouldn’t be too difficult. Roar swallowed thickly. “What’s my in? I don’t want to force my way into her house and try to act like some alien Casanova with her family around.”

  She laughed. “No, that wouldn’t work for you at all. Show up and ask her if she wants to hang out. You know, kind of like what we’re doing now, but without the smell of burned hair, and more clothes.” A brief pause. “Actually, less clothes doesn’t sound like a bad thing—”

  “Right, I get it.” Roar was almost sorry he asked. The image of Leda in a sweatshirt and nothing else made his blood run hot. He cleared his throat. “What about Stein?”

  A pained look flashed in Petrus’s eyes. “Leave him to us.”

  Roar knew there was more, but, as usual, he didn’t push. When the time was right, Petrus would let him in on the details. But what if he didn’t? What if he pulled another weird distraction like he had at Nils’s house the other night?

  Petrus slapped the side of Roar’s head. “Are you ignoring me?”

  “Yes, I am. Have you been working out? Because that actually stung.”

  Frowning, Petrus signed: “Don’t change the subject. This is serious, Roar.”

  “I know.” He pushed to his feet, fighting the urge to pace.

  “The sooner you get it over with, the sooner we can find what we came here for and go home.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Roar scratched his shoulder, drawing out the moment. After several beats, he gave in, knowing he couldn’t stall any longer. “All right, I’m going. Be ready if I need help, though.”

  Petrus gave him a hard look. “We’re not going to leave you high
and dry.”

  Roar grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet. “Any words of wisdom before I go?”

  Silent for a moment, Petrus held up a finger, then opened a box under his bed, held up a small bottle, and attacked Roar with a spritz of cologne.

  Roar coughed and spluttered, using his T-shirt sleeve to wipe his eyes. “A little warning next time.”

  Petrus smirked, totally unrepentant. “Just helping you out.”

  He arched a brow. “You saying I smell?”

  “Not anymore.” Petrus flicked an invisible speck from Roar’s shoulder. “Go work your magic.”

  Magic, Roar thought as he headed for the stairs. Right. If this whole thing didn’t blow up in his face, he’d consider it a miracle.

  Chapter Seven

  When Roar reached Leda’s house, the upstairs lights were off, but the main floor lights glowed, soft and inviting. He rubbed his hands against his jeans. The idea of getting close to Leda sent warmth curling through his chest and a layer of sweat formed on his palms he couldn’t seem to wipe off.

  He’d have to slip a vial of Petrus’s sleeping draught into her somehow. And her uncle and grandmother. Roar could sense his own distress. It radiated off him, nauseating, like animal excrement baking in the sun—not that he had ever gone looking for the scent in case he needed it for comparison. He wished he’d had some time to practice. Practice what, he wasn’t sure. Humans might appear a lot like Aurelites on the outside, but they were almost another species. Everything seemed the same, physically, but deep down, he had no idea what he was doing here.

  Not giving himself a chance to back out, Roar squared his shoulders, then approached the door. He pushed the bell and waited. Sea birds cawed in the distance. The stillness of the night alerted his senses. He glanced over his shoulder expecting to find someone watching him, but there was no one there.

  Leda opened the door and he was blown away, sucked up into the atmosphere. Ferocious storms erupted in the pit of his stomach and he could almost taste the sandwich he’d wolfed down at lunch. She wore a tight-fitting blouse and jeans, boots up to her knees, hair flowing free down her back, hanging over her shoulders, held away from her face by a gray hairband. She was all curves and legs and sultry sunshine. Dusty plains formed in his mouth. Oceans dripped from his palms.