Fractured Era: Legacy Code Bundle (Books 1-3) (Fractured Era Series)

by Kalquist, Autumn

  “We have much to discuss, but now is not the time.” She guided him back to the door and opened it.

  Chief stood in the corridor, arms still crossed. “It’s all clear,” he said.

  “The second you find anything like what I described,” Nyssa said to Tadeo, “bring it straight to me or Chief Petroff.”

  “I will, Madame President.”

  Air.

  Dritan sucked in a breath and coughed. He lurched to the side, and pain shot through him. His right arm didn't work like it should, didn't feel normal. He fumbled in his suit for an emergency glow bar and pulled it out, shaking it until it illuminated his surroundings.

  Rock, all around. A bloodied arm, crushed and disembodied under a large boulder next to him. Another, up ahead, in the shadows. More blood, closer. Guts trailing from a dead man.

  Dritan’s empty stomach heaved, and he collapsed against a jagged rock wall, the scene blurring before him. What was I looking for?

  He glanced down. His mask lay beside him, crumpled—empty—oxygen packs next to it. He'd used up all his oxygen. Spots of light drifted across the packs, and he shook his head.

  You need air, Dritan. Find air.

  “Era?” Dritan sat up straighter. A weight settled in him, a terrible sense that he couldn’t save them both from this.

  No. He was on Soren. Era was safe. Up on the Paragon.

  And he was suffocating.

  He tucked his mask and canteen into his work belt and staggered toward the figure to his right. Blinding pain coursed through his injured arm, and he cried out. He stopped, panting.

  The air's bad, he heard Era say.

  Dritan shook his head and ground his teeth against the pain as he dragged himself over the sharp rocks. He was hallucinating as the poisonous air stole his life away. He had to find an oxygen pack. But there was barely enough room to crawl, and the rock walls seemed to grow closer as he moved.

  He raised his glow bar, casting a faint blue light over his immediate area. Two of his crew mates lay beneath an enormous rock, thick, viscous blood pooled beneath them, their limbs splayed at awkward angles. Pricks of light danced across Dritan’s vision as he edged around the bodies.

  Oxygen, his Era hallucination insisted again.

  “Oxygen.” His heart thudded against his chest, and he gasped, trying to suck in air. He moved closer to the crushed bodies and searched the twisted limbs for signs of a work belt. There. One still had a few oxygen packs and a helio.

  As he pulled the packs and helio from the belt, his trembling fingertips touched a cold white length of bone jutting from the man’s torso. He shuddered, and his world slid toward the black nothing of space.

  Air.

  The darkness wasn’t his glow bar dying. He was dying. He blinked against the black and rushed to twist a new oxygen pack onto his mask. He inhaled. Once, twice, three times he breathed in the metallic taste of the liquid-packed oxygen. Soon the spots of light dancing across his mangled crew faded. He tried to survey the scene, but his glow bar barely lit two feet in front of him. He picked up the helio. Please work.

  He tapped the cool, metal sphere, and it floated into the air and brightened, its yellow glow warmer than the cool sun Soren orbited. The helio illuminated a wider space, allowing him to make his way around the fallen debris. Was he the only one left? Memories tried to surface in Dritan’s mind, but everything was foggy, disjointed.

  Then he caught sight of another body, half buried in scree. A woman, her bloodied white-blond hair matted to her head. Janet Lanar. A fellow sub from the old Paragon crew. She had a mask on, but her oxygen pack was flat, nearly empty. Was it a trick of the light, or was her chest still moving? He made his way to her, wincing against the pain in his arm, and crouched before her.

  “Jan.” He replaced her oxygen pack with unsteady hands. “Jan, can you hear me?”

  Her eyelids fluttered, and he let out a breath. He used his good arm to pull the lightweight rocks off her body, then shook her again. This time, she let out a moan.

  Two survivors. Dritan sat back on his heels and took a few more breaths. His mind began to clear as he struggled to make sense of it all, fought to remember how long they’d been trapped down here. He inhaled again, taking less oxygen this time.

  Jan finally opened her eyes, and Dritan offered her his good arm to help her sit up. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I… I don’t think anything’s broken,” Jan said, her voice muffled by the mask. “Is anyone else…?”

  Dritan shook his head, and Jan’s face darkened.

  “I thought I was done for in that last quake,” she said. “How’d you survive? I guess those guys you knew from the London were right. You got some kinda lucky gene.”

  Lucky.

  Dritan lifted his canteen from his belt and shook it. There was a little water left. He unscrewed the lid with one shaking hand and gave it to Jan. She lifted her mask to sip it, and he did the same.

  “I don’t remember…” he said.

  Then everything came rushing back—each moment outlined in his mind as surely being his last.

  They were expanding the subcity on Soren, just like Era had thought, and he’d been ordered to help clear tunnels for a new sector. Forty men and women—five full crews—loaded into rockcrawlers and were dropped off over a mile outside the main subcity.

  They placed a charge near the end of the massive cavern. It should have blown a small hole in the rock, but instead… something went very wrong. The explosion was bigger than they planned. There were screams, so many screams. Dritan fell beneath the rubble, dazed, sounds of the dying echoing off the high ceiling. Then the cavern collapsed, trapping them all.

  But there were a few survivors, and they worked together to find the way to the exit that led back up to the poisonous surface. Then, one of the many quakes that plagued the planet had brought down even more rock.

  He reached a hand to his head, and blood came away on his fingertips. A small gash. He was injured, but alive at least. The others…

  “It’s definitely been more than forty-eight hours,” Jan said.

  Dritan nodded and helped her to her feet. “The rescue crews might think we’re all dead, but someone’s gonna come eventually. We just need to focus on finding more oxygen and water—so we can survive until they do.”

  Jan leaned on him, and they helped each other step around the fallen rocks as they assessed their situation.

  “We were working over there—they thought the exit was that direction.” Dritan pointed toward a series of dark crevices.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Dritan cradled his bad arm and scanned the area, trying not to look too hard at his fallen crewmates. He didn’t want to know who they were. Who they had been. “We need to search all the bodies. Move the rocks to find supplies.”

  “Corinth?” Jan lightly touched his arm.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t want to say it when the others were still…”

  Dritan waited, but she didn’t finish. “Just say it.”

  “That explosion wasn’t right.”

  Dritan looked down at Jan. “We followed procedure. Something went wrong—the cavern was unstable.”

  “No,” Jan’s deep blue eyes met his. “I originally came from mining—from the Perth.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “My parents managed to get me off there—and now here I am… buried beneath rock anyway.” Jan knit her brows together. “As a half, I helped mine the meteors a few times.”

  “And…?”

  “And I saw the charge the guys planted down here. It didn’t have enough powder to cause that kind of explosion. Nowhere near enough. The Artex powder had to be augmented. With… Zenith or something, as crazy as that sounds.”

  A bitter taste rose in Dritan’s mouth, and he risked another small sip of their water. “I don’t understand. Zenith?”

  “It increases the power of a blast. But, my point is… Wha
t if no rescue’s coming?” Jan said. “What if… what if this wasn’t an accident? All the crews from Paragon were on this mission.”

  Dritan shook his head. “No. No way. We had nothing to do with—”

  “With the terrorists?” Her eyes narrowed. “But we did. We worked alongside them. And that was treason enough. That’s why they sent us all here—to get rid of us.”

  “No,” Dritan said firmly. He walked away from her, toward the cluster of boulders, more bodies crushed beneath them. “They sent us because everyone has to serve a term here. We all need to do our part.”

  “They sent us here to send everyone a message.” Jan said, her voice rising. “How many others in the fleet would be happy to see the president—the board—dead? My family’s up there on the Paragon. I need to protect them. And I’m… stuck here. What if it’s not safe up there either?”

  Dritan’s gut twisted. Era. I have to get back to Era. And to our baby. But he didn’t say it. He hunkered down beside the bodies and reached his hand beneath the boulder, eyes closed, feeling around until his hand touched a work belt. One more oxygen pack. He pulled it out slowly, fighting the urge to vomit as the corpse squished against his arm. He stood up and took a step back, staring down at the pack. “The Paragon is safe now.”

  “How do you know?” Jan’s voice cracked, and her eyes went a little wild. “And what if there are colonists like Sam, Tati, and Jonas still up there? They talked to so many others—not just us. All those people are still up there on the Paragon. Did you know Tati even had a lover? My husband Gavin told me the rumor. But no one seemed to know who it was. What if—”

  “Stop it. Our families are safe up there,” Dritan repeated. He went to Jan and squeezed her arm until her fearful gaze met his. “We need to focus on surviving. Rescue will come. They won’t leave us here.”

  Jan let out a harsh laugh and grimaced against some pain inside her. She pulled her arm away and leaned against a rock. “If they think sending us down here will stop people from talking treason—they’re wrong. All of us dying down here—it’ll be like dumping Artex on a fire.”

  “We’re not going to die. And don’t say that kak.”

  “Who’s going to hear me? Is it fair all the subs have to die young to take care of the rest of the fleet? When’s the last time they sent a crew of techs to blow a hole in rock?”

  “Is it fair? I don’t know. But it’s not their job. It’s ours. We all have to play our part so this fleet—”

  “Corinth. Are you listening to yourself?” Jan focused on Dritan’s face, clearly trying not to look at the corpses behind him. “I’m worried about my family. Aren’t you?”

  Dritan pulled at his short curls, thinking of Era—alone on the Paragon—and winced as his fingers brushed the gash on his head. “Look. Others might talk, but that’s all they do. Talk. The terrorists did more than just talk. They crossed a line. And they’re dead now. People will see that—no one else will want to cross that line.”

  “I wish they’d succeeded,” Jan said through gritted teeth. “I shouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be here if they had.”

  Heat spread in Dritan’s chest. “Succeeded in what? Blowing a hole in exec sector?” He stepped toward her. “Killing the president and the board? Everyone has a place in the fleet. That is theirs. This is ours. It’s how we all survive.”

  “What if getting rid of them is the only way to survive? What if… doing the right thing means doing the wrong thing?” Jan‘s eyes went to the bodies beneath the rocks, and her jaw went tight.

  Dritan closed his eyes, and the anger drained from him. Tati, Jonas, and Sam had all talked treason. And when Dritan saw Sam attack the president’s daughter—when he’d realized the three of them caused the hull breach, he’d turned on them—turned on his own people. Subs never turned on each other. Shame flooded him, but he pushed it down. I did the right thing.

  “Yeah,” he said, “sometimes doing the right thing means doing the wrong thing. But I draw the line at trying to take someone else’s life.”

  Jan licked her lips. “They take ours. And maybe this accident wasn’t an accident. Maybe no one is coming for us.”

  Dritan swallowed and met her gaze. She was wrong. He was loyal, and he’d proved it to the president. No one had a reason to want them dead. “We need to focus on the here and now. On surviving. Get it together, Lanar. The Paragon’s safe, and there’s no conspiracy to kill us.”

  Jan pressed her lips together, and her eyes shone in the yellow light of the helio. “I just want to see my daughter again.”

  “And you will. We will both see our families.” He slid the oxygen pack into his work belt and turned away from her.

  He was not going to die down here. He’d been a small child when his parents went to fix a hull breach and never came back. And he wouldn’t leave Era and their baby the way his parents had left him. He was getting off this damn planet.

  He started around the boulders, searching for more of his fallen crewmates. He’d made it three feet when another quake reverberated beneath his boots. His heart sped up, and he snatched the helio from the air, crouching low against a boulder as more rocks began to fall. He closed his eyes and pictured Era as the planet shook around him.

  The day they paired. Her laughing brown eyes. The feel of her lips against his, holding her in his arms. Would he ever see her again?

  She had been laughing on their way to the tattoo cubic. She even smiled through the pain of the infinity tattoo, so proud to finally leave her half status behind. Afterward, they had a special meal up on command level. Something Zephyr smuggled out of the galley for them.

  “I never thought I’d feel this happy again,” Era said, her bright eyes meeting his over a meal better than any Dritan had ever eaten.

  “Now you’ll have to live in paired couples sector with me,” he replied. “You won’t get to live up here on command level anymore.”

  “I don’t care. I’ve told you—I’ll be happy anywhere, as long as I’m with you.”

  Era needed him, like no one else ever had. He had to get back to her.

  The quake seemed to last forever, but finally, it ended. Dritan stood, his legs weak as fresh poured metal. His “lucky gene” had saved him again.

  “Dritan,” Jan called, her voice weak.

  He released the helio, and it floated beside him as he pushed around the new debris, seeking her.

  “Jan!” Dust flew through the air, obscuring his vision.

  “I’m here.”

  Dritan moved through the dust and found her. She was trapped against the rock wall, a trail of red running down her head and neck. An enormous boulder pinned her leg to the ground, and blood gushed from it, pooling beneath her. She turned her head, pale eyes watering, and a whimper croaked from her throat.

  He reached her just as her eyes fluttered shut.

  Darkness enveloped Tadeo, and he sensed he’d stayed in his bunk too long. But when he lay here in the dark, he could pretend Kit was still alive—that he was still on the Meso, and he could run down to the sublevels and meet her there. In secret. Breaking the rules.

  I killed them. Era… and Kit.

  He hadn’t felt this bad since he first got to the Paragon. Grimp would make it all go away. But his mother had made sure no one on medlevel would give it to him. She’d saved him from his addiction and his grief.

  Tadeo opened his eyes, blinking in the darkness to banish the vision of pregnant Era—standing naked in the airlock, staring down at the infinity symbol on her wrist, tears streaming down her face. This nightmare would not follow him around every waking shift, because Era had deserved to die.

  He sat up and slammed a hand against the switch beside his bunk. The lume bars in his sleeping compartment flickered to life, and Tadeo groaned, tossing his sweat-soaked blanket to the floor. He rose, naked, and walked across his cubic.

  His muscles ached from his run through the sublevels the night before, but the spongy rubber tiles felt cool under his f
eet, and the drafty air chilled his overheated skin. The small, square holo screen on his wall displayed the time. Kak. He was late for mess again.

  When he reached his lav unit, he turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face. He glanced at himself in the cracked mirror. A hunk of his black hair hung in his bloodshot brown eyes. He pushed it off his forehead and smoothed it back. “You’re an idiot.”

  Why couldn’t he forget Kit? He gripped the edges of the sink and tried to focus. There were traitors on this ship. And today he needed to find whatever it was Era had stolen for them.

  Tadeo’s comcuff went off from inside the curved metal cabinet bolted to the wall. He pulled it out and checked the ID. It was Darren Omar, son of the Vancouver’s navigator, and one of Tadeo’s few true peers on this ship. He was the closest thing Tadeo had ever had to a friend here. Tadeo sighed and pressed the button to answer it.

  “Raines.”

  “Where are you?”

  “My bunk.”

  “Seriously? I figured. You’re late for mess. Again.”

  “I’ll get there.”

  “Yeah, you will.”

  A loud bang resonated from Tadeo’s door. He groaned and walked over to open it, realizing at the last second he was still naked.

  “Kak, man.” Omar’s eyes widened, bright against his black skin, and he shielded them with one hand. “I don’t go like that.”

  Tadeo’s gut twisted at the remark, but he smirked at Omar with forced amusement. He knew what some people said about him—that he didn’t like women—just because he hadn’t paired with anyone yet. But people also whispered he’d seduced a girl back on the Meso—and then she’d disappeared. He’d rather them believe he didn’t like women than the rumors that came so close to the truth.

  Tadeo stepped out of the way, spreading his arm wide. “Come on in.”

  Omar pressed his lips together, clearly embarrassed by what he’d insinuated. He focused on Tadeo’s face, trying not to look at the rest of him, and reluctantly crossed the threshold, keeping his distance.

  Tadeo took his time walking back to his cabinet, forcing Omar to feel discomfort at his full-on nudity. He pulled a fresh guard suit out, and as he stepped into it, he gestured to the small couch across from his bunk. “You can sit.”