Lander

by J. Scott Coatsworth

  Rogan grumbled but allowed himself to be escorted through.

  Jameson snapped the waygate shut as soon as he was gone. He felt dirty, but Rogan’s time would come.

  He opened another one back to Xander’s camp along the Argent Sea.

  ALIX CHECKED his chronometer.

  “It’s 7:03 p.m.,” Erissa whispered in his ear. He’d missed his PA.

  Jameson had agreed to check back with him at midnight, and every six hours after that, at the storage unit. He didn’t see how he was going to make their first check-in, but he’d figure it out somehow.

  Two years in ranger training and deployment had changed him. He wouldn’t just nod and do what she demanded.

  She palmed open the door to her private residence, and he stepped into the most luxurious apartment in all of Oberon. Unless one of the Syndicate bosses had something nicer.

  The flat was enormous, spread over an entire level of one of the arcos. The top one, of course. It was floored with bamboo, imported from Earth at tremendous cost. Floor-to-ceiling force windows showed an early evening sky. On one side, the waters of the Gildensea glittered under the silver light of an alien moon.

  She led him to her sitting area, taking a seat on a white granth-leather couch. The rare feline species had been hunted to near extinction a century before on Pleiades Six’s only inhabitable world and the ice cats put on the endangered species list. Hunting them was a crime punishable by death.

  Those couches sure didn’t look a hundred years old.

  Alix took a seat in an armchair across from his mother. Lena Preston crossed her legs and stared at him. A servitor brought her a crystal glass filled with something golden. Brandy would be his guess.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she said at last, taking a sip.

  “Until last week? Locked up in a work camp on the Split. But surely you knew that.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Of course.”

  She was hard to read, but he’d learned through trial and error over a lifetime. She was surprised. She hadn’t known.

  “I mean, since that time. Since that damnable event.” She set her drink on the synthglass table next to her chair. Ripples of colored light radiated out across its surface.

  “With Xander.”

  She scowled and pushed herself up, taking her drink with her, to stand by the window. “Those wing men are plotting, even now, to take us down. It was a mistake not to wipe them out when we had the chance.”

  That brought him to his feet. “You don’t mean that. They’re not like that. Xander’s not like that. What happened to make you hate them so?”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Mother….”

  “There was a man. One of them. I met him in Philo.”

  He came to stand next to her, looking at the darkening sky. “You’ve never told me this before.”

  “It was a brief affair. One that ended painfully.”

  “So one skythane man breaks your heart—”

  “He raped me.” She said it as calmly and coolly as if she were commenting on the weather.

  “Oh my God. I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t know.”

  She looked at him and shrugged. “How could you? It was a long time ago, before you were born.”

  “Still, they’re not all the same.”

  “They’re animals. Savages. None of us are safe while they rule half the world.”

  He closed his eyes. She would never change. It explained so much, though.

  “The stars are different,” she said softly, catching his attention once more.

  “What?”

  “The goddamned stars.” She turned to face him, and the mask slipped a little. She was afraid. “Where in the seven suns are we?” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Titan Station is gone. The whole of the Common Worlds is gone.”

  “We’re in Titania’s universe now. Surely you know that. You sent us there to take over the pith supply.”

  She turned away. “I did. That seems like a long time ago, now.” She put her hand on the window. It fuzzed, sending a ripple outward from her hand. “I didn’t believe this was possible.”

  “It’s not too late to change course, you know. Call back the rangers and enforcers from Errian.”

  She looked up at him and put a hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry, darling, but I can’t. The board would fight me on it. They’re running scared, sure the barbarian hordes are going to come after us, now that we share a world.” She shook her head. “They’re not wrong. We have to see this through now. Danner Black made sure of that when he dropped the bomb on that town of theirs. And the occupation of Gaelan only took us farther down that road. It’s them or us now.”

  Alix groaned. “It doesn’t have to be. I know these people. I spent a year among them. Hell, I lived with Xander for nine. We can still stop this.” He took her hand. “I still love him. Even if he doesn’t love me.” That was a bitter pill to swallow, but there it was.

  “I wish I could. Truly. But we may never get back home, to the Common Worlds. I’m only acting to secure this new world for you, for our kind.” She took a deep breath, and her mask came down again. She pulled her hand away from his. “In any case, you’re home. You’ll stay here, of course, until we can figure out other arrangements.”

  “That can’t be how this ends. Mother. Mother!” He tried to stop her, but she moved out of his reach.

  “I’ll see you in the morning. Zenix will see you to your room.”

  “Goddammit.” It had been a long shot, but he’d been sure he could change her mind. “Zenix, where’s my room?” he asked the house AI.

  “This way.” A series of lights lit up the floor.

  He took one last look out at the Gildensea. Xander and Jameson were somewhere across that expanse of water and its twin, the Argent.

  Alix sighed. He had one more play to make. If that fell through, he’d have to find a way to get word to Jameson that he’d failed.

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Breakthrough

  MORGAN LED them out of the small room where they’d spent the last day.

  Quince looked back once more at the transparent wall. She shivered at the thought of what lay beyond it.

  When they were in the hallway, he put his hands up along the doorway, and the wall reappeared there, unbroken.

  Damn, that was cool.

  He led them back the way they had come, as far as she could tell—up a long, featureless passageway. They weren’t intercepted, and after a time, Quince began to relax. It looked like they were going to make it out okay after all. Not that their odds over the longer term were all that great.

  She took Robyn’s hand, and it was warm in her own.

  Part of her ached to be out of the confines of this dark warren, back in the clear skies of Erro. Part of her was afraid to leave Morgan—Tanner—behind.

  They reached the end of the tunnel, a blank wall where they had come through the waygate earlier. She knelt next to the boy. “Come with us.”

  He shook his head. “I need to stay here, or they will suspect. I can try to slow things down.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded.

  She pulled him to her breast and hugged him tight. “We’ll come back for you. I promise.”

  He slipped something into her hand.

  As he let go, she held it up. It was another key. “You will know what to do with it.” Its surface swirled like mercury, and it was bigger than the one Robyn had given her, so many years before. “You have to go. They will come soon.”

  She looked at it for a second, and then tucked the key away in her carry sack.

  Morgan touched the wall with both hands, and a new waygate appeared. The towers of Errian, bathed in the light of late afternoon, awaited them.

  She knelt and kissed Morgan on the forehead and stepped through the gate. Now she just had to find Jameson.

  Robyn followed right behind her, and the gate winked out of existence a second later.

  “What’s that
doing here?”

  Quince turned to see a hoversport sitting in the middle of Errian’s main plaza.

  She looked around. The city was in shambles. OberCorp had already come.

  “Fly!” she yelled to Robyn, and leapt into the air.

  Something slammed into her back. Her body sizzled with electrical current, and then everything went dark.

  JAMESON LEANED back against an old wormwood tree whose branches reached out over the little stream that ran through the Torr Talam camp.

  He’d checked for Alix twice at the old storage unit in Oberon City, but there’d been nothing—no one and no note.

  Night had fallen over this stretch of Titania now, and he needed solitude.

  Xander had been so cold to him before he’d left. So closed off. Like when they’d first met, before things had blossomed between them. Now Jameson was shattered. For once, he was the one ready to go ahead, to stop running.

  Xander was the one who didn’t want to be with him anymore.

  Jameson picked up a pebble, slinging it down the stream. It skipped a few times and then sank below the water, leaving no trace of its passage.

  “Hey, I was looking for you.”

  Jameson looked up to see Xander in all his beautiful glory, his black wings spread against the evening sky.

  “I didn’t feel like talking with anyone.” He stood and stretched his own golden wings, a challenge of sorts. How quickly he’d gotten used to them. “This seemed like a quiet place for a little contemplation, but I can go find another.” He got up and started off up the stream bank.

  “Wait.”

  “Why should I?” He turned on Xander, and his voice came out angrier than he had intended. “Just so you can tell me you don’t want me, again? I get it.”

  “No. I mean… I don’t—”

  “Why can’t you just trust this thing between us? Wherever it came from, however it started?” He took a deep breath, calming himself. This was not how he’d wanted this to go. “I flew to Rogan’s estate, outside of Oberon City. I cut a deal with him to try to save our people, all the while knowing what kind of monster he is. What he did to you. And all I wanted to do was to kill him, to grind that fat face into the dirt. All I want to do is to protect you. To be with you, and you won’t let me in—”

  “Would you just shut the hell up for once?”

  Jameson stared at Xander. The hairs stood up on his arms, and the adrenaline rush sent a thrill up his spine.

  “Look, I came to find you because I had something to tell you.” Xander took a deep breath, then forged ahead. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter how we got here. I just want to be with you.”

  Jameson was stunned. He opened his mouth to speak.

  “Just hear me out. More than that, I don’t even care whether it was pith or fucking fate or just the chemical attraction that brought us together.” He ran his hand through his dark hair. “Damn. I’m shit at all this. What I’m trying to say is—”

  Jameson pulled Xander close and kissed him. “I think I got it.” Their bodies entwined, and Jameson dragged him to the mossy ground next to the stream.

  Xander whispered, “I love you.”

  Jameson grinned. “About fucking time.” Though he was still pissed about all the runaround. He’d just have to take it out on Xander’s poor body.

  He unlaced Xander’s shirt and his own, and pulled Xander down to kiss him again.

  His hand went inside Xander’s pants. Xander was excited and ready for him.

  Soon they were both transported to a world with no one but the two of them, and they didn’t need a waygate to get there.

  XANDER WAS flying.

  As they moved in perfect sync, he felt a surge of love for Jameson. This offworlder who was really skythane. This man who had broken past all his barriers, one way or another.

  As they climaxed together, his spirit soared.

  He was far above Erro, his wings no longer black, but an iridescent rainbow of colors. He felt different, looser, freer. His thoughts raced in an alien tongue, and Jameson, next to him, was the same, like two glowing butterflies.

  To him, Jameson was beautiful.

  The sun rose in the distance, but it was an angry sun, bloated past its normal size. The heat hit him immediately, and the air started to boil.

  Below, the forests burst into flame, and the lakes began to steam and evaporate.

  He pulled Jameson to him as the heat became unbearable, and then vision ceased.

  Xander sat up, rubbing his eyes.

  What the hell was that? Another memory? It had felt so real. He was sweating profusely.

  Jameson sat next to him, looking dazed.

  “Did we just see the end of the world?”

  Jameson looked up at him. “You saw it too? The sun and the flames….”

  Xander nodded. “The last thing I felt was you in my arms.” He pulled Jameson close, not caring that they were both sweating. “I was… we were something else.”

  “I know. I’ve seen them before. They lived here once.”

  “On Erro?”

  Jameson frowned. “I think so. They were the ones who split the world….” He shivered in Xander’s arms.

  “Hey, it’s okay. That was a long time ago.” He stood and pulled Jameson up with him. “What matters is the here and now. You and me. Come on!” He padded into the stream, where the water was deepest, and rinsed himself off.

  Jameson followed and soon was splashing Xander playfully.

  Xander splashed him back and then pulled him close. “I’ve missed you, robin.”

  “I’ve wanted to hear you say that for days and days.” He kissed Xander, and Xander’s heart hummed.

  “I see you two have finally made up?” Alia was staring down at them from the shore. “It’s about time. Come on. We need to finish planning for tomorrow.” She turned away. “And put your clothes on. You’re creating quite a distraction.”

  Xander watched her go. “Think they really need us right now?”

  Jameson laughed. “I don’t see what difference another fifteen minutes will make.”

  ALIX HAD spent the last three hours trying to find a way to crack the grid block Lena’s AI had on the apartment. Clearly she wanted him out of the game until it was all over, but he’d learned a few tricks in his time with the rangers.

  He ran a patch app that would fool the AI, making it seem like he was in his room sleeping.

  Then he tackled the grid issue. Oberon’s grid ran on a super high frequency network, and the blocker kept him from accessing it. With enough power, though, he could build an amplifier that would pierce the block, and then he could send whatever he wanted across the grid.

  He stripped the wiring out of one of the lamps in his bedroom, and used a couple strips of metal from his mother’s collection of ancient machinery. She was gonna kill him for that one. He found a roll of insulating tape to cover the wires. Next, he pried open the access panel on the grid transmitter and patched in the whole mess. He plugged it into the power source and sat back to examine his handiwork. It was an unsightly jumble, but thankfully his mother had left him all alone in the apartment while she attended to what she was calling “the skythane mess.”

  Alix tested his connection. He could reach Oberon City’s grid, but the signal was still intermittent. He needed a bigger antenna.

  Alix looked around, and his gaze fell on the white leather couches. They were made offworld, on a fairly primitive planet. Maybe…. He used a kitchen knife to cut open one of the seat pads, and sure enough, there were rows of metal coils inside, so he pulled a few out and twisted them together. Soon he had a stronger antenna, strong enough to reach the grid.

  Success. He sent out two instructions. One to get a messenger to meet Jameson at the storage unit at noon, and one to advance another plan he was working on.

  Then he set to overriding the lock code on the front door. That took another hour or two, as he tried several different hacker apps to try to tease out the l
ock code.

  In the end, he resorted to brute force, disabling the lock through a rapid-fire series of commands that pried at the lock until it finally slipped open. It was less elegant, but in war sometimes you had to be a little rough. It would also set off an alarm, but he planned to be far away from there by the time anyone came to investigate.

  Sure enough, a siren started blaring behind him. He had about thirty seconds to get to his old hoverbike before the system shut down the building.

  Alix ran down the hall and plunged into the dropshaft that would carry him down two levels to the family garage. He slammed into the floor, knocking the breath out of his lungs, and gasped for air as he pushed himself forward toward the bike. Alix pulled himself onto it, sending the command via his PA to open the window.

  Taking in a long, ragged breath at last, he gunned the engines as the plas slid open.

  It stopped and started to reverse. Lockdown was coming.

  He shot forward, put his head down, and rammed through the closing panes of plas, shattering them outward as he raced toward freedom.

  JAMESON OPENED the waygate to check for Alix one last time, at midnight, not expecting anyone to be there.

  A young man waited for him, wide-eyed, wearing a helmet, elbow and kneepads, and standing on a hoverboard. “Jameson Havercamp?” he asked, staring at the world through the waygate, his mouth falling open.

  “That’s me. Who are you?”

  “Alix Preston sent this for you.” He handed over a package, trying his best to behave professionally in a circumstance that should have left him speechless.

  Jameson took it and opened it, reading the terse message.

  No dice. It’s war. I will do what I can.

  There were also two pairs of communicators, one marked “Alix” and the other “untraceable—for Rogan.”

  “Thanks,” he said to the messenger. “I’d give you a tip, but I don’t have any wetware.”

  The boy laughed. “That’s all right. This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen—”