by Erica Rue
“There’s no short answer to your question. I was part of an elite group of terraforming researchers working in the space station and on the planet. Our goal was to introduce new species and optimize the environment for colonial life. Our discoveries here would shape how other worlds were made habitable. The project had been going on for decades before I arrived, but I was excited to be here. I had been studying ways to embed musical keys in DNA. Jameson had already been around a few years and had built up a reputation. I eventually got assigned to his team. At first, I was in awe of him. He could somehow find the perfect balance for a new creature. But as time went on the power went to his head. His creations took a dark turn.”
“And your supervisors allowed that?” Dione said.
“As long as he completed his assigned projects, no one cared what he did in his spare time,” Sam said. “I had barely been here five years when the call for evacuation came. The Venatorians had arrived in our corner of the galaxy, so the station and the planet Kepos were no longer safe.”
“If everyone evacuated, how did you get back here?” Dione said.
“I never left. I had no family. I was only interested in discovery, and I figured that one day someone would find my research. If not, I would have satisfied my own curiosity at least.”
“But you could have continued your research somewhere else. There are other terraforming programs,” Dione said.
“None with the freedoms Kepos offered, believe me. The liberties we took at times… I am not proud to remember.”
“So Jameson stayed, too?” Brian asked. “Did you work with him?”
“No, his arrival was a complete surprise. He left with the rest, but he had poured too much of himself into his work here, I think. He had engineered perfection and destruction, and by the end, he believed he was a god. Not an actual god, he wasn’t delusional, but he saw himself more as creator than created.”
“He came back,” Brian said.
“Yes. Jameson was charming. I have no doubt that all the people he recruited thought they would be coming to paradise. He used his savings to buy a colonizer, filled it with willing travelers, and returned here, knowing it wasn’t safe, but banking on his weapon to protect the colony.”
“That’s ridiculous. No one remembers coming here,” Brian said. “How is it possible that hundreds of people forgot a journey through space?” He would never forget such an incredible experience.
“That’s what the nanotech will do.”
Dione gasped. “That’s horrible. How is that even possible?”
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Why is nanotech so bad?” Dione’s response worried him.
“Nanotech is never supposed to be used on humans. Even medically. People have tried to heal others using nanotech, but it’s been deemed too dangerous,” Dione said.
“I think it works better than people know. A few high-profile deaths early on, and some bought-and-paid-for studies forced the government to shut down research. That, and lobbyists who made money from people being sick.” Dione looked shocked at Sam’s words, but Brian wasn’t surprised. He’d dealt with enough Aratians to know that for too many, power was more important than anything.
Sam continued. “Jameson used it on his crew, I’m sure of it. It’s the only thing that could explain the memory loss. I had a little luck restoring memories, but the nanotech adapted quickly. I couldn’t give people back who they were for more than a few weeks, so I stopped trying. Sometimes the memories were too painful.”
“Miranda,” Dione said. “I read her journal.”
“Yes, Miranda Min. I thought if I could show her what Jameson had done, she would be able to convince others. When the memories started to fade again, I thought the journal would help her. That she would see her own handwriting, her own words, and believe them, but… it didn’t work.”
“She killed herself,” Brian said. He knew the stories. The Ficarans always got blamed somehow.
“I don’t think she remembered everything when she killed herself, but she could still feel it. She hated who she had been, and she didn’t want to lose herself again.”
“Is that why you never told us the truth?” Brian said. He was sitting with his head in his hands.
“I tried to help you all. I tried to find a way to permanently reverse the nanotech, but I couldn’t. You called me a god, because I was like Jameson. I knew things. I hated it. I just wanted to be left to my research with no one to disrupt me, but eventually I got swept into the struggle. So many people were unhappy. Anytime you focus on eugenics like Jameson did, women stop being people. They become breeders. That I couldn’t stand.”
Brian couldn’t stand it either. That’s why he helped smuggle out Aratians around the Matching. The next one was in a few days, and they’d already smuggled out one couple. But that confession didn’t make him any less angry. She could have stopped it all.
“So you let us live like brainwashed puppets?” Brian couldn’t believe it. That someone who wanted to protect them, who saved them from Aratian rule, had let the Aratians continue unhindered. She had the power to stop the Matching, but she had just left the remaining Aratians to their rituals.
“When reversing the nanotech didn’t work, I realized there was nothing I could do. My attempts at explaining everything didn’t go well. I sounded crazy, and I needed people to listen to me, to fight back against Jameson, so I took on the role of Architect. I convinced as many as I could to leave. I locked the Flyers, but I didn’t stick around to rule.”
“No, you abandoned us. We could have used your help.”
“There was more at stake. I didn’t abandon you, I killed the puppet master. Jameson came looking for me after Miranda died, and I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I just shot him.”
“You could have told us more. My father left looking for answers that you could have provided.”
“Do you think he would have taken my word?”
“There was plenty of proof you could have given us,” Brian said.
“You can hate me all you want, but there are other problems that require your attention. The Venatorians were able to find this place decades ago, and they’ve done it again, but this time, it’s no scout ship. I won’t be able to stop them all. You’ll need to prepare everyone, Ficarans and Aratians alike,” Sam said. Brian clenched his fists. Sam’s tone made it clear she was done talking to him.
“I need some air,” he said. He left Dione and Zane in the basement and went straight outside to the landing pad. He wanted to watch the Ven Invader explode. The Vens would have to be taken care of before he went to the southern island to find his father. And maybe even the fabricator. He would have to inform Victoria of all that he knew, and he wasn’t sure she would believe him. She probably wouldn’t kill him, though, and that was a start.
If Dione would come with him, and explain everything, Victoria could be persuaded. Dione had this amazing way of explaining things clearly, just like his father. Victoria would see the ships arrive. She would figure out what was coming, and realize that these people could help them.
45. DIONE
Upstairs, Bel was still unconscious, and Evy was asleep in a chair. Lithia was stirring, but still looked groggy. She would be upset that she slept through everything. No, not everything. More trouble was coming their way, of that Dione was certain.
After a few minutes, the somber mood began to suffocate her, so she followed Brian to the landing pad outside where he was sprawled out on his back, looking up at the now dark sky. There was no moon, but stars came into view. The mountains buzzed with the sounds of life. Bugs, mostly, and a few noises that reminded her of frogs, though on this planet, who knew what was out there. The air was fresh, but held no fragrance, unlike the green, humid scent of the forest.
“I’m here for the show,” Brian said. “She’ll get one of them. My people will get the rest.”
The first ship was streaking low across the sky. Dione watched it disappear into the distance.
“What’s in that direction?”
“The Field Temple.”
Brian’s home. She wanted to pour out how sorry she was and explain how she would fix it, but she couldn’t. It was all she could do not to cry. She should be researching every article in her manumed with information about Venatorian colonial assaults, looking for patterns, weaknesses, anything, but her arms and legs wouldn’t move. Then Brian wrapped her hand in his own, warming his fingers against her leg. Every part of her was cold and numb, except for the electric warmth that spread from Brian’s hand.
He was confident that the colonists could resist the Vens, and she wanted to believe him.
She heard the door open and crossed her arms. Soon Zane and Lithia joined them. They were carrying Bel. Evy followed, rubbing her eyes. Lithia sat down and cradled Bel’s head in her lap.
“We wanted to watch Sam shoot them down,” Lithia said. “We thought Bel would want to see, too.”
The humid night air was warm and saturated with unspoken words. She wondered what would have happened to this planet if the Vens had killed them all and taken their ship, or if the professor had been the one to plant the explosive on their ship. According to Samantha, there was a Ven distress beacon in the forest somewhere, and only her dampening field had protected them this long. How many years of protection would the colonists have had if they hadn’t come along?
None of it mattered. This wasn’t some experiment she could redesign and retry, controlling for more variables, improving her accuracy. The results were here, and just because she didn’t like them didn’t mean she could deny them. She would have to work with what she had.
The next Ven vessel, the Invader class by the sound of it, rumbled in, flying in the same direction as the last.
Dione broke the silence. “Maybe, if we—”
But Lithia cut her off.
“Bel? Can you hear me?” she asked.
“Zane?” Bel said.
Zane was there in a heartbeat, hand on her forehead. “I’m here. She feels cooler.”
Dione sat up too quickly, and dizziness washed over her along with relief. Bel was alive, at least. She was going to be okay. If she was awake, it meant the anti-parasitics were working. Bel would know what to do.
“We’re all here,” Zane said.
“Where?” Bel said.
“On the planet,” he said.
“Home?”
“Not yet,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
Above them all, a loud explosion boomed out across the mountains, and fire and pieces of debris burned up as they rained down, like fireworks. Destruction had never been so beautiful, but that’s because it was more than just destruction. She visualized a horde of Vens, then removed half. This was very good news. It was hope. It was hundreds of Vens that she didn’t have to worry about.
Dione smiled. It was a good omen. Bel was alive. One of the Ven ships had been destroyed. There were only a few hundred more to go, and they could be killed. She had already killed one. In order to kill the rest, they would have to come up with other methods of destruction. She would make this right, not because she was now tied to the fate of these colonists, but because it was the right thing to do. How she had ever hesitated in the first place, she didn’t know.
“What was that?” Bel said, trying to prop herself up.
They all exchanged looks, sharing the same unspoken question: Do we tell her yet? Dione knew the answer. People were always more powerful with all the information. Bel needed to know. If the Vens had failed to kill her twice now, she could handle some bad news.
“Remember the space station? We’re all down on the planet it orbits. The Vens found us. It might have been the tracer, but there’s also a distress signal emanating from an old Ven ship that crashed in the forest. Two ships headed toward one of the settlements here. And we can’t leave because we used our charging matrix to power the weapon that just destroyed the third Ven ship.”
Bel closed her eyes, and at first, Dione thought she was unconscious again. But soon, she reopened them and spoke, her voice a little stronger.
“How many Vens?”
“Estimated under three hundred.”
“How many colonists?”
Brian was the one who answered. “Nearly two thousand all together.”
“We’ve got a chance. Destroying that third ship may just make this a battle, not a massacre.”
Dione felt one of the weights lift from her shoulders. All of the trials of the last few days seemed worth it now that Bel was awake. But now, there was someone else she needed to talk to.
“Lithia, I have something for you. Come on.”
To her surprise, Lithia followed her back inside the base without snark or comment.
Dione pulled a book from her bag. “The journal I found in that apartment in the Forest Base? I think it belonged to your grandmother. Miranda was the Farmer’s wife.” She offered it to Lithia. “It’s why you could open the DNA lock in the Forest Temple.”
Lithia didn’t seem surprised. “I don’t want it,” she replied.
She was so stubborn. Dione opened it to a page she had earmarked and began reading:
I don’t remember what it felt like to be the Miranda Min who left her family. Each new memory feels like I’m seeing a recording. I hate her. She’s a coward. I don’t understand how she could leave her son. I know that she was afraid, but I can’t feel that fear. I can’t understand it. I keep searching the fragments of memory for the real reason. I keep waiting to remember my husband hitting me or abusing me, but there’s nothing. I have no choice except to believe that I left because I was selfish. Because I didn’t want to be a mother. Because I wanted to explore the galaxy. I thought that living a quiet life would be my regret, but I was wrong. I think of my son and Clara, and I wonder if they’ll forgive me.
“See, even she can’t believe what a horrible person she is,” Lithia said. Dione thought her eyes looked a little glassy.
“You don’t have to read it. But I still think you should have it.”
Lithia took the journal from her outstretched hands. “Thanks.” Lithia opened it to the end and glanced at the last entry, but Dione could tell she wasn’t reading it.
“I also think you should know…” There was no easy way to say this. “She committed suicide, shortly after writing this journal.” Dione watched Lithia’s jaw clench, but she didn’t say anything. Dione needed to change the subject.
“How are you feeling after… Cora?”
“Horrible actually, but not because I got shot. Because I somehow pissed off a very friendly person who was predisposed to like me. Enough to make her shoot me.”
“Well, it certainly makes the family resemblance easier to detect.”
Lithia gave her a faint smile. “I’ve got some wrongs to right with Cora. I don’t think I ever really accepted the fact that she’s my cousin. I feel like she’s an impostor.” Lithia hesitated a moment. “Hey, about lying to you about your dad’s access code, I’m sorry. I should have just told you.”
“No, it’s okay. You were right. I don’t know if I would have helped you. I don’t know if the rule-follower inside of me could have let you.”
“I know. I didn’t want to put you in that situation,” Lithia laughed. “Now that we’re here, we’ll make a rule-breaker out of you, yet.”
“Don’t get too crazy. Maybe a rule-bender.”
They could have said more, but they didn’t need to. Dione knew that they would fight again, that they would let each other down, but that was okay. The storms defined the calm, and she would take the next few hours of calm before plunging back into the storm.
The Vens were here. It still didn’t seem real.
“So what do we do?” Lithia said.
“Get some rest, and in a few hours, we take inventory, gather all the information we can, and make a plan. You heard Bel. If there’s going to be a battle, we’re going to have to think outside the box to win,” D
ione said.
“Then I’m glad you’re here,” Lithia replied.
The two friends stepped back outside. Dione looked up at the burning debris falling to the ground. They could do this. They would find a way to stop the Vens.
Thank You
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Acknowledgments
First, I’d like to thank my mom Jane. She has always believed in me and helped me achieve my dreams. I’d also like to thank my husband Jacob for his eternal patience and support throughout this process. A huge thank you goes to my beta readers: Maggie Burnside, TR Dillon, John Dwight, Jane Eickhoff, Adrianna Foster, Donna Royston, Bradford Karl Slocum, Martin Wilsey, and Jason Winn. An extra thank you goes out to Martin Wilsey and Tannhauser Press for helping me navigate the world of indie publishing. I also owe a great deal to my writing group, The Hourlings. Thank you for the feedback and support, especially the previously unmentioned Liz Hayes, Jeffrey C. Jacobs, and David Keener, who are regulars at our meetings along with TR, John, Donna, and Marty. I’d also like thank Jessica Hatch of Hatch Editorial Services for the fantastic editing. And finally, thank you to Emily for all the book recommendations.
About the Author
Erica Rue is a reader and writer of science fiction and fantasy, especially YA. Her abandoned biology major and handful of astronomy classes have prepared her well for writing sci-fi. She enjoys learning new words and promptly forgetting them so that she can rediscover them. When she's not writing, she forgets to water her garden, completes every side quest she triggers, and boosts her dog's self-esteem.