Lander

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  The boy shook his head. “We are one.”

  “Did you have a name before too? The nimfeach part?”

  The boy’s face tilted, and he nodded slightly. He touched her face, and a light went through her, filled with reds and golds and a taste like cinnamon and chocolate.

  “That’s… gonna be hard to pronounce. What should I call you?”

  He smiled weakly. “Morgan is good.”

  JAMESON OPENED a waygate back to Bolcà Isle and sent Vestra and Venin back through to prepare the Erriani there, and to bring them to Xander under cover of darkness. Jessa decided to stay with Mylin to see what she could do there.

  Mylin saw them off. “Good luck.” She reached up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll look after him. So will Alia.”

  Xander was nowhere to be seen.

  “Thank you.” Jameson closed his eyes, wishing it were Xander who would accompany him, instead of Alix. “Take care of yourself too, little sister.”

  She grinned and hugged him. “I wish I were.”

  He kissed her forehead, then gestured for her to stand back.

  Next, he opened a waygate to Gaelan, to the room where all the pith had been stockpiled. He and Alix stepped through the gate, and Jameson let it close behind him.

  “Let’s get this stuff moved.” The place was strangely quiet, empty.

  Alix pulled him back. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Jameson shook his head. “I hoped… I wanted it to be different. Maybe he doesn’t love me after all, but that doesn’t matter at the moment.” Like hell it didn’t, but he couldn’t deal with it now.

  Alix held his gaze for a moment. “I get it. Come on. Let’s get this done.”

  Jameson was grateful to Alix for understanding. He opened a new gate, this one to the caverns where he and Xander had taken refuge. Alix crossed over to the other side, and one by one Jameson handed the crates of pith that OberCorp had stockpiled across the waygate. In fifteen minutes, they had transferred it all to its new place for safekeeping.

  Jameson took ten vials and stuffed nine of them in his carry sack. At least I figured out the pith shortage. It seemed like such a small victory in the scheme of things, but it was something.

  He stared at the last vial for a moment before putting it in his pocket. This little thing, the cause of so much trouble for the Common Worlds. For Oberon and Titania, the landers and the skythane. For him and Xander.

  With Alix at his side, he closed the waygate and opened one more, to the one place in Oberon City that he remembered most clearly, the storage unit where he and Xander had gone just before they fled the city.

  “Ready?”

  Alix grinned. “Not really. You?”

  “As good a time as never.” They stepped through the gate, one after the other, and Jameson closed it, shoving the key into his carry sack for safekeeping.

  Alix looked around. The place had been ransacked, the door still in tatters from the enforcer attack.

  “Xander’s secret bunker,” Jameson said by way of introduction. “Where he kept his stash of clothing, food, and weapons, in case he ever needed to flee.”

  Alix looked at Jameson, raising an eyebrow.

  “You didn’t know about it?”

  Alix shook his head. “Not until this evening. Either he rented this place after I left, or….”

  “Or he never really felt safe, even when he was with you.” Jameson had seen it many times before, in abuse cases. The abused were always ready to run, because they were always sure they’d have to, one day. “It’s no reflection on you. What he went through with Rogan….”

  “Maybe not. But I always thought he felt safe with me.” He spat. “And now you’re going to make a deal with the man who abused him.”

  “I know. It feels wrong. But we have no other good plays, and it was Xander’s idea, after all. If you can’t convince your mother—”

  “You better get going. I’m going to take my PA out of stealth mode. I’ll give you the location as soon as I get a lock, but in about five minutes, this place is going to be swarming with enforcers.”

  “Good luck.” Jameson held out his hand, but Alix pulled him in for a hug. “I think we would have been good friends, if none of this had happened.” He let go of Jameson, closed his eyes, and placed his fingers on his left temple, pressing in and muttering “Code alpha-gamma-379106, pass code black angel.” He blinked. “I’m in. Tracking Rogan.”

  “No rush or anything.”

  “Got him. We’re in luck. He’s at the Castle.”

  “The Castle?”

  “It’s a Syndicate stronghold outside the city. I can slit it to you—”

  “We burned out our implants. Didn’t Xander say there was a tracker chip here somewhere?”

  Alix dug through the bins that were thrown about the back of the storage unit.

  “Running out of time.”

  “Got it.” He pulled out a small silver disc and pressed it to his temple for three seconds. Then he handed it over to Jameson. “It will blink faster and faster until you reach the target. Fly east and then follow the tracker.” He grinned. “I also downloaded some blackware into it. Press and hold the button for five seconds when you get close, and it will disable the house’s security routines for a good five minutes.”

  “Got it.” Jameson turned to go. As he stepped over the wreckage of the roll-up door, memory tugged at him, and he turned to see Xander standing there, looking invulnerable, a black-winged angel. He blinked, and it was Alix again.

  “Godspeed.” Alix waved him off.

  “You too.” Jameson turned away again and leapt in the air, making for the far side of the city.

  ALIX WAS off by about four minutes. He used the extra time well, sending messages to Braid Seneford, Sera Thorpe, and several other OberCorp board members, laying the groundwork in case his mother stubbornly refused to see things his way.

  It took nearly ten minutes for the hoversport to find him, and by then, he was sitting lazily on a crate, chewing an old Nutrisynth bar he’d found in one of the crates. The enforcers poured out of the craft, pulse rifles at the ready, but he made no move to oppose them. Instead he put his hands in the air and stood still as they surrounded him.

  “Alix Preston, you are under arrest, under the laws that govern Oberon City.”

  “I won’t resist.” He threw the wrapper aside. His hands were pulled behind his back and locked with stim cuffs. He was careful not to push too hard against them. He didn’t relish the shock they would produce.

  They hauled him into the hoversport, and it lifted smoothly into the air, carrying him back toward OberCorp headquarters.

  He wondered how long it would take for word to filter up to Lena Preston.

  The prodigal son had returned.

  FOR THE first time in weeks, Xander really missed his implants and his PA. The planning was done for the assault on the OberCorp forces in Errian. Now all they had to do was wait.

  He sucked at waiting.

  If only he could spin up a few tunes in his head to distract him. Something by the Preachers, rough rock with a smooth beat. Or something by Anellia, with her soothing triple harmonies, something only extensive genetic body modification had allowed her to achieve.

  Instead he sat on a high branch of an ironwood tree in this strange jungle, looking up at the stars. Wondering what the new day would bring.

  “Xander, is that you?” It was a woman’s voice.

  He glanced down at the ground. It was too dark to make out much, but he could see she was a lander. Jessa.

  “I don’t really want to talk.”

  There was no reply.

  He sat back against the trunk of the tree and stared out at the rising moon. Bandia shone silver light across the treetops, washing out all the color and leaving things cleaner, simpler. He wished it would wash over his heart as well.

  The tree shook. “What the hell?” He peered down to find a pair of eyes staring back at him.

  Jessa levered herself
up onto the branch, looking around her. “Wow, it’s really beautiful up here.”

  “I said I didn’t want to talk.” He was surprised that she showed no fear. Landers usually preferred to stay closer to the ground.

  She ignored him. “This world is much wilder than Beta Tau. Did you know there are cat-spiders in this jungle that can eat people?” She shuddered.

  For his response, he stared off into the star-filled sky, refusing to engage with her. Two could play this game.

  “You’re being an idiot, you know.”

  He stared at her. “I’m being an idiot? So says the woman who followed her crush halfway across the Common Worlds.”

  “That was love, not stupidity.”

  “Looks about the same from here.”

  “Touché.” She dusted the bark off her hands. “I’ve known Jamie since we were kids. I always knew we were supposed to get married. As I grew older, I knew… or guessed… other things too.”

  “So, you knew?”

  “That he was gay?” She sighed. “I suspected. Or at least bi. But he was my friend long before we were supposed to be something else to each other.” She took his wrist, then saw the scar there. “You burned out your implants?”

  “Yes. When we were on the run.”

  “I wish I could show you what he was like. Back then. I have pictures, but they’re all in my head.”

  He nodded. “I miss being part of the grid, sometimes.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine.” She edged closer to him on the branch. “Look, I don’t know you. But I can see why Jameson chose you. You’re—pure?—I don’t know. You’re real. No bullshit.”

  “Really? You can tell all that just by looking?”

  “I’m a good judge of character.” She took his hand again. “I’ll say it again. You’re being an idiot.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled his hand back and wrapped his arms around his chest.

  “You’re scared your feelings for him aren’t real. You were hurt before, when Alix left you, and now that you’ve been dosed full of pith, you think you can’t trust what you feel for Jameson.”

  “How do you—”

  “Alia and I talked. She’s worried about you too. She said you’re waiting to see if you feel the same when the pith wears off.”

  He took a deep breath. “That’s true. Or that’s part of it.” He set his hands in his lap, searching for the best way to explain it. “I was abused as a child, by the man Jameson is going to see.”

  “Oh.” She looked pained and put a hand on his.

  So, she didn’t know everything. “When Alix came for me—he bought out my contract—I thought I loved him. But I know now that it wasn’t love. When I saw him again, I was relieved. Not in love. He was my savior, and I transferred everything over to him—all my hopes and fears. I needed him to be my protector. When I lost him, I thought my hope died too. And then Jameson came along.”

  “And you trusted in the future again.”

  He thought about it for a moment. “Yeah. I guess I did. But it was all a mirage, a drug-induced fugue.”

  “Are you sure? Are you willing to lose him just to prove your point?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She ran a hand through her blonde hair, smoothing it back. “Look at it this way. Every day people meet and fall in love. Sometimes it’s because they miss the train and take the next one, only to bump into someone they’ve never met before. Sometimes they are in an arranged marriage for years, and suddenly truly see the person before them. Other times they bond over drinks at a bar on a space station.” She squeezed his hand. “My point is that it doesn’t matter how they get there. It’s the end result that matters.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “How do you feel about him right now?”

  “It’s not—”

  “Right now. Do you love him?”

  He shuddered. “Yes. But—”

  “But nothing. Do you love him? Or are you going to be an idiot and let him go?”

  “I….” He didn’t really know how the stuff worked. Maybe it had permanently altered his brain. Maybe he loved Jameson only because his mind had been warped. But did it even matter?

  I love Jameson.

  Maybe it didn’t. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to help us? You must be furious at him for keeping a secret.”

  She smiled wanly. “Jamie and I had a long talk. I will always care about him. But he’s not supposed to be with me. You’re the one he needs.” She kissed his cheek. “Just promise you’ll take care of him.”

  Xander laughed. “I can do that. I think. If he’ll still take such an idiot back.”

  She grinned. “He will. He’s a bit of an idiot too.” She looked down at the ground far below. “Mind giving me a ride down? Up was hard enough, and it’s gotten a lot darker.”

  “Of course.” He swept her into his arms and carried her down to the ground, grinning the whole way.

  I love him.

  He didn’t need his implants to hear the music in his head now.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: The Prodigal Son

  QUINCE AWOKE, feeling more refreshed than she had in weeks. She lay on her side in a white bed, as utilitarian as the rest of the room, and yet supremely comfortable. The material conformed to her shape, cradling her the same way she cradled Morgan.

  The lights in the room—dimmed when she woke—brightened as she sat up and put her feet on the cool, smooth white floor.

  She was clean too, as if she’d just taken an ionic shower, and her clothing looked like it had been laundered and repaired. She could get used to this place, looming alien threat notwithstanding.

  Quince turned around and gasped.

  Robyn lay on the table, once again exposed to the world, but still as death. A pile of clothing sat on a pillar next to her.

  By Gael’s blade. Robyn had wings again.

  Quince leapt up and practically ran to her side, putting a finger on Robyn’s carotid artery. If the bastard place had killed her….

  Robyn’s pulse was strong.

  Her green eyes flickered open. “What happened?” She sat up, looking around wildly. “Where are we?”

  “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe. Morgan saved us.” She leaned down to kiss Robyn. Their lips met, and it was as sweet as ever.

  Then Robyn pulled back. “What’s… wait… holy Split, I have wings!” She tried to twist around to see them, and they fluttered in agitation. “How in the three hells…?”

  “This place. Morgan said he’d fix you, but I never imagined he could fix that.”

  “Oh my gods, Quince. I have my wings back. I have my wings back!” She danced around the small room, and there were tears in her eyes. “I thought I was crippled for life.”

  Quince pulled her close. Robyn’s heart beat next to hers. “It didn’t matter to me.”

  “I know. But it did to me.”

  “I know.” Quince couldn’t imagine losing her wings. They might as well have thrust a dagger into her heart.

  When they separated, Robyn’s cheeks were wet. She wiped them with the back of her arm. “What is this place?” she asked, looking around.

  “It’s the home of the nimfeach, and their masters. It’s why Morgan called us here.” She sat Robyn down on the bed.

  Morgan watched them from where he sat, on the bed, back to the wall, his knees tucked under his arms.

  Quince explained what she’d learned, and at her request, Morgan showed her the Ithani in their cavern far below.

  Robyn pressed her hands against the transparent surface, taking it in. “They’ve been here all this time?”

  Quince nodded.

  “How sad for them.” In the great open space below, the nimfeach made their rounds among the pods. “Buried here under the ice for a hundred thousand years, waiting for their spring.”

  Quince frowned. She saw things differently. “When they awaken, Morgan says they will destroy the world.
”

  Robyn looked at her. “That could be a problem.”

  Quince laughed ruefully. “Yeah, it could. Question is, what do we do about it?”

  They both turned to stare at Morgan.

  He shook his head. “It’s too late now. You have to save those you can.”

  “How?”

  “Send them back.”

  “To Titan Station?” Quince shook her head. “Even if we knew how, without another shift, there’s no way to evacuate so many people from the world.”

  Morgan looked miserable.

  Quince sat down next to him and hugged him. Whatever he’d started out as, he was at least half-human now, and she could see that part of him was scared. “We’ll figure something out.” She laughed ruefully.

  “What?” Robyn asked, crossing her arms.

  “Looks like we’re gonna have to find a way to save the world again.”

  JAMESON FLEW east, following the beep beep beep and blink blink blink of the tracker. He kept low to the ground, hoping to avoid detection, though he was sure his outlandish (by Oberon City standards) clothing didn’t help. He knew he wasn’t the only skythane in the city, but there were precious few.

  He turned a corner and was almost battered by an oncoming freight hover. He flattened himself against a wall as the thing lumbered by, his feet perched on a small ledge.

  This would have been easier if he’d had a point of reference outside the city.

  Oh damn. Of course he did. The immigration center, where he’d first landed on Oberon.

  He flew on to the Slander, where he was less likely to be seen when he opened the waygate.

  The traffic slowed down as he skirted the edge of the decrepit district, leery of tripwires or traps that might have been set for his kind. Even up here, the putrid smells from the streets reached his nose, and he wrinkled it in disgust.

  The company allowed such misery to flourish at its doorstep, filth and poverty and criminal behavior that went far beyond anything on Beta Tau. For all its faults, his homeworld took care of its own.

  My homeworld. This was his place of birth. Maybe once all this was over, he’d find a way to do something about the way its people were treated.