by Erica Rue
Zane ended the call and read Cora’s second message: Hello? -Cora
Zane smiled a little. Cora kept signing her messages like they were proper letters. Zane responded: I am the harbinger. We need to speak privately. Are you alone?
Cora replied: Yes. -Cora
Zane called her. “Cora?” he said, not knowing quite what to expect.
“I’m here,” she said, way too loudly. He winced.
“You don’t need to shout. I can hear you if you speak normally.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said at a more tolerable volume. “Is the Farmer coming back?”
“Not yet. That’s why he sent us.”
“Us?”
“Yes, Lithia is working with me,” he said, mustering all the authority he could.
“Oh, then I can tell my father and uncle. They will release her.”
“No!” he blurted out. Then, more calmly, “No, I do not trust them. I trust you. Will you give her this communication device? I need to speak with her.”
If he could get in touch with Lithia, maybe she could do the rest of the convincing. She was much better at this sort of thing than he was.
“Is she… is she really my cousin? The DNA tests say she is.”
Zane tempered his reaction. Lithia had gotten him remote access to the Alliance databases so he could pull certain private flight plans and unlisted planets, like this one. He knew she was looking for her grandmother, but he didn’t realize she had found her. In fact, he doubted Lithia had known, or she never would have come here with the Vens on their trail.
“You should ask her that question.”
“She’s currently in the detention center, but I can offer to bring her morning meal,” Cora replied.
“Thank you, Cora.”
“Can I know your name?” she asked.
“My name is Zane.”
“Thank you, Zane,” she said and disconnected.
Relief flooded through him when he received a call from Lithia shortly after.
“Zane, what kind of crazy are you cooking up there? You got the manumeds to work again!”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, Cora left it with me and said she’d come back in a few hours. She called you the harbinger?”
“She thinks that I’m working under the Farmer’s orders and so are you.”
“You know about the Farmer?”
“Dione caught me up,” he said. “She’s okay. She and Brian are working on a plan to come get you, but it will be a lot easier if you’re—”
“Not my usual tempestuous self?”
“—not in prison.”
“I’m not leaving this place without the meds for Bel. How is she feeling?”
“She’s in bad shape. Sleeping a lot, needs help breathing.” Zane’s voice caught in his throat with that last word.
“Shit.”
“You’ll have to convince Cora to get you the meds, then you’ll hide out in the woods. After that Dione and Brian will come and get you. They’re getting a shuttle right now. Just hang on to your manumed so they can find you.”
“Dione’s gonna fly the shuttle? I’m better off walking.”
“Let’s hope that everything goes smoothly, or you might have to. Dione will check back in once she has the shuttle. She’s out of contact right now.”
***
Exhausted, Zane went back to the med bay and lay on one of the beds next to Bel. She was sleeping. Zane could see the green glow under her skin. Once confined to her leg and one side of her body, it was now spreading to the other side. As he looked at her gaunt face, he asked himself the question he had avoided before. Would it be too late for the anti-parasitics? Had so much damage been done that it was irreversible? He closed his eyes, fighting against his worry for a bit of rest.
He hadn’t been asleep long when an alarm went off. Its urgency shook any sleepiness from his mind, and he sprinted back to the command center. He silenced the alarm before he fully realized what it meant. A ship was approaching!
The sensors on the station had a much greater range than those on the Calypso, but they didn’t have a ready profile for this ship. It must be a newer class of vessel, or a custom pirate ship, neither of which was in the station database. He could copy and transfer some of the profiles from the Calypso to the station, and that might allow him to identify the ship. It didn’t take long, but in that time, the ship didn’t move.
When the station identified the ship, he went cold. Venatorian. Marauder class, just like the one that had attacked them. The coincidence was too great. The Ven ship had found them because they had taken too long to destroy the tracer, but there hadn’t been a choice. Once they jumped, without the matrix, they were stranded. They had intended to jump to an uninhabited planet where they could make repairs without dooming anyone else in case they failed, but they’d screwed that up, too. This planet supported around two thousand people, and the Vens were here to kill them all. Even a ship of fifty Vens like the Marauder could have a devastating impact on a small colony. So why wasn’t it moving?
Maybe the jump had knocked out their stabilizers again. Maybe they were making repairs. Zane saw no signs of instability though. He would keep an eye on the ship and set up a link to his manumed so that if it moved, he would know immediately. He sent a message to both Dione and Lithia. They had to hurry. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to stop this ship.
31. DIONE
Dione felt naked without her manumed and machete. Brian had also left the stolen pistol in the small storage chest in the smuggler’s den.
“No one knows about this one. These things will be safe here.”
“Are you sure we can’t we keep them?” she asked, watching as he slid the storage chest back against the wall. “Your own people won’t take your things, right?”
Brian made an equivocating gesture. “Like I said, the concept of personal property gets shaky when resources are scarce and war is looming on the horizon.”
He also stowed Lithia’s pack, which he had stuffed with rations from the Forest Temple hideout. He handed her one, and ate three himself.
“Why aren’t you taking those back? Don’t your people need the food?”
“Everyone gets a share, but they don’t get equal shares. These will go where they’re needed.”
Dione had never lived in want, let alone need. She tried not to, but she couldn’t help pitying Brian and the Ficarans.
They left while it was still dark, and they reached the open plain in time for Dione to watch the sunrise gild the grass and trees. Soon, she saw it.
It was similar to the Forest Base, but it was smaller and surrounded by a wall. A patrol on the wall spotted them, and Brian waved in greeting. The man beckoned to him to continue on.
Its small appearance was just that, an appearance. Brian led her around the other side, and the building that appeared over the wall was just the tip of the iceberg. The structure had been built into the hill, and several floors were exposed to the other side of the plain.
Brian met the guard at the gate, said a few words, and they were both admitted.
“Victoria?” Brian asked.
“At the morning meal,” the guard said.
“Thanks.”
Brian led Dione straight inside the station where the entrance hall had been converted into a mess hall. Dishes and utensils clashed, and the low hum of conversation and laughter echoed through the room. The food was simple: porridge, fruit, and bread. A few diners even had eggs. As they walked among the tables, Dione noticed that some people actually had very little food on their plates. She supposed this was what necessity looked like.
They approached the table at the very back, and Brian muttered to her, “That’s Victoria. Follow my lead.”
The woman’s posture and stern expression easily identified her as the leader. Her long, brown hair was in a no-nonsense ponytail, and when Victoria looked up, Dione couldn’t see any warmth in her gray eyes. It worried her. Brian had alr
eady told her to keep all the stuff about space stations and aliens to herself, and she trusted his judgment.
“Brian,” Victoria said. “We were expecting you two days ago. Have a seat. And who is this?”
“This is Dione. She was in the Flyer that went down in the forest. I assume you saw it.”
“I did. And how did she get a Flyer?”
“Apparently they have a few still working on the southern island.”
“The southern island?” Victoria said, looking at Dione with interest now. “We all thought the talk of a city down there was nothing but a myth. What brings you up here?”
Dione told the truth. “My friend is very sick, and we heard the meds she needs are up here.”
“We?”
“I came with my friend, Lithia, who was captured by the Aratians.”
“You crashed. Didn’t you know about the Icon?”
“No, we don’t use the Flyers unless we have to,” Dione said. That sounded believable, right? Why was Victoria so suspicious? Dione didn’t like this woman very much.
“Surely you have more experienced pilots. Why send someone so young?” Victoria asked.
Great. The leader of the Ficarans didn’t believe that she had crashed. Victoria probably thought she was a spy, here to sabotage all their Flyers. She had a point, though. Why would a proper city send a couple of teens? She would let Victoria be clever and right, and maybe once she felt like she had been smart enough to see through her, she wouldn’t ask questions that led to answers including space stations and aliens.
Dione did her best to look nervous, which wasn’t hard under the scrutiny of Victoria, and began her confession. “No one sent us. We took the Flyer without permission. We heard about the medicines in your temples, and we decided to come find out. We didn’t know about the Icon, or whatever it was that hit us.”
A smug smile spread across Victoria’s face. She enjoyed being right. “And you think you can unlock our Flyers?”
“Yes.” The pit nearly dropped out of Dione’s stomach. When they had met Brian, she always figured Lithia would be the one to unlock the Flyers, but now that task rested squarely on her shoulders.
“I suppose you want something in return.”
“I want use of one of the Flyers. After we get Lithia and the meds, Brian will come with me to the southern island. After that, he’ll bring the Flyer back to you.”
Her piercing gaze shifted to Brian. “Interesting how you get exactly what you want out of this deal.”
“That’s the beauty of compromise,” he said. “What do you say?”
Victoria thought for a moment. “Well, I’ve got nothing to lose if you fail to start them. But I mean all of them. We’ll need them for what’s coming.”
Dione still wasn’t certain why Victoria needed all of the Flyers so badly, but she didn’t care. She was ecstatic. All she had to do was start a few Flyers, and she and Brian would be off to get Lithia.
“I’ve got some business this morning, but around midday, meet me in the shuttle bay. Brian, I’d like to see you in my office for a few minutes about your original mission.”
“Jackson’s tractor repair? Yes, ma’am,” he said, grabbing his pack.
“Give her half a serving,” Victoria said to one of the men sitting at the table as she rose.
Brian left, and Dione was sitting at a table of curious strangers. One of them was especially large, and he seemed to have twice as much food as everyone else at the table. His down-turned eyebrows gave him a look of permanent irritation. Dione avoided eye contact.
When the other man came back with a piece of greasy bread and a few slices of fruit, she thanked him. She knew what a meal meant to these people, and felt guilty that they were sharing it with her. The meager portion wouldn’t take long to finish, even if she ate slowly. Still, she would have to try, because once she was finished they might start asking her questions she couldn’t answer. Maybe that was Victoria’s plan.
32. BRIAN
Victoria sat behind her desk. There were no elaborate decorations on her office walls, no ornaments. Everything in the room was functional and necessary. She lived the same austere life she expected of her people, and Brian had always respected that about her. She did not invite Brian to sit, and even though that bothered him, he stood without complaint. He needed her in as good a mood as possible.
“You’re late. When Canto came back alone, I was worried,” she said.
“That’s why I sent him with the all-clear tag.”
“But no real information,” she countered.
“You must have realized I was caught in the storm.”
“I figured, but I didn’t count on you bringing back company.”
“If Dione can start the Flyers, it will be worth it.”
Victoria paused, smoothing down her ponytail. “You trust her?” she said.
Brian hesitated. “Not completely.” He wanted to trust Dione, but he didn’t. She didn’t understand what life was like here, what was at stake. He would have to show her later. If she understood what things were like…
“Good.” Victoria’s curt reply brought him back to reality. “Don’t be an idiot like your father. In fact, it would be better if you didn’t fly off until after the attack. After we’ve taken over the Aratian food supply, I’ll give you your own personal Flyer to keep. But we need every single Flyer if we want the assault to work.”
Brian sounded confused. “The assault? You’re going through with that plan?” The worse things got for them, the more eager Victoria was for war.
“If we get the key to the Flyers, then yes. It’s long overdue.”
“You know that’s not what the Architect wanted,” Brian said. He knew the Architect wasn’t a god, but she had been sincere in her attempts to protect them all, and she had been the one to lock all the Flyers.
Victoria sounded bored. “The Architect did a great deal for us, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t make mistakes. She said herself that she was only human. I’m surprised to hear you defending her. I thought you hated her.”
It was true, for the most part. He blamed the Architect and her enigmatic warnings about the southern island for his father’s departure.
“She may have withheld some information, but I think she was right when she warned us about the Flyers. They’re tools, not weapons.”
“I’m not going to have this debate with you. I make the calls. I give the orders. You’ll follow them if you want a Flyer afterward.” Victoria’s forehead wrinkled as she frowned at him. “I expect you to join us. You’re more familiar with their territory than most.”
Brian glanced up sharply, failing to conceal his surprise. He hated the Aratians, but this wasn’t the way. Holding Evy hostage would have been one thing. Hostages don’t have to get hurt. But an assault? That wouldn’t go well for anyone. He didn’t want to join the assault, but he couldn’t refuse if he ever hoped to find his father. He bowed his head in a nod of assent and submission. He would figure something out later.
“Now, to business.” Victoria motioned for him to have a seat. “Report on your appointment with Jackson.”
“We made the arrangement for six, but when morning came, he didn’t want to pay. Said he didn’t have six, and offered me two, so I looked around and found them.”
“How many were there?”
“Ten.”
Victoria smiled. “Even better.”
“I only took six.”
Anger swept over Victoria’s face faster than a wave breaking on the shore. “Explain.”
“The deal was for six. I keep my word. That’s why the Aratian farmers come to us.”
“The message you sent is clear. Don’t pay us, and you can get away with it.”
Brian responded. “He didn’t get away with it. I’ve got the full payment, right here.”
“There’s no reason to pay us in full. They can try to cheat us, and we’ll still only take the original amount. There’s no consequence for their treacher
y.”
“I’m not a thief. We had a deal with him. I held up my end, and I made him hold up his.”
“If something like this happens again, you take everything. Understood?” She paused for effect. “Or do you want me to cut your mother’s rations because we don’t have enough to go around?”
Brian struggled to control his tone. “You’re barely feeding her enough as it is. She’s so weak she couldn’t contribute labor, even if she tried.”
“She made a choice to stop working and take the ration cut when your father left. She knew what it would mean. And I cut her more slack than most because of your talents. Now, do we have an understanding?”
Brian enunciated so that every syllable of his reply dripped with hatred: “Yes, ma’am.”
Maybe he should have taken all ten food packets. They certainly could use it. Still, he didn’t want to sacrifice his reputation among the Aratian farmers because sometimes, he worked for them on the side to get a little extra food. With the cache they found in the Forest Temple, he wouldn’t have to find extra work for a while. He would have enough to feed his mother and the others Victoria deemed unworthy.
He was waiting for her to dismiss him, but she still had something to say.
“This girl,” Victoria said, “Dione, has she mentioned anything about the fabricator? Do her people have it on the southern island?”
“She hasn’t mentioned it,” Brian said. Victoria looked him in the eye, scrutinizing his expression. She doesn’t believe me. “But I can ask.”
“Good. That fabricator could solve a lot of our problems. Dismissed.”
Brian left. So that’s her next move, searching for some mythical device that creates things out of nothing? A lot of people thought the fabricator was there. His father had believed it. After all, if the southern island had been forbidden to them, there must be something important there. It didn’t matter whether you thought the Farmer was a god or a man, because the Architect had forbidden them from going there as well. The two had very different motives, but the mystery of the southern island was a preoccupation of both Ficarans and Aratians alike.