by Nina Croft
They eventually halted in front of another set of doors. Dylan opened them in the same way as the others and then waved for Milo to enter.
This was a big circular room with blank screens on the wall all around. The bridge, no doubt. In the center of the room, Rico sat in what Milo presumed was the captain’s chair, an impressive array of buttons and panels on the seat arms.
The vampire twirled, then pressed one of the buttons and the screens came to life. Whatever they were showing was dark, and he could make out nothing.
“Welcome to Trakis Two,” Rico said, waving his hand at the screens.
“I thought we were on the Trakis Two?”
“We are. It was suggested that each planet take the name of the ship that lands on it. Hence, as we are on the Trakis Two, that’s now also the name of the planet.”
Milo stepped closer to one of the screens. “It’s pretty dark out there.”
“It’s always dark out there. Don’t you love it? Of course, the other side of the planet is always light.”
Milo thought for a moment. “It doesn’t rotate on its axis?”
“Clever boy,” Rico said. “I knew I was right to wake you. Just the man we need for the job.”
Milo thought about pointing out that he was far from a boy. When they’d boarded the ship, he’d been about forty years younger than Rico, an insignificant amount when you considered they had both been close to five hundred years old. Though Rico must be twice that now, presuming he’d been awake since they left Earth.
“What job?” he asked.
“Curb your impatience. We’re just waiting on the others.” He pressed a different button, then spoke into some sort of comm unit. “Katia, get your ass out of bed and to the bridge now. And bring Logan.”
He waved a hand toward a seating area that contained a table with eight chairs. Milo sat down, and Rico took the chair opposite, Dylan the one next to him. Rico reached beneath the table and pulled out a bottle and three glasses. Suddenly, Milo was very thirsty.
After pouring the amber liquid, Rico pushed one glass across the table to Milo. He picked it up and sniffed—it smelled like scotch—then he swallowed it in one go and nearly choked.
“Jesus. What is that stuff?” His throat was on fire.
“Home brew—I had to do something useful while all you lazy bastards were asleep.”
“You’ve been awake the whole time?” Milo rasped.
“Every single day.”
He held out his glass, and Rico refilled it. Milo sat back in his chair and studied the vampire. “So, you drugged me and brought me here against my will?”
“You were being stubborn. What was I supposed to do? Leave you to your dreams of revenge until the Earth imploded and you died? Your mother would roll in her grave.”
Not possible. As far as he was aware, his mother didn’t have a grave. There hadn’t been enough left of her to bury. But he’d only been six at the time of her death, so the details were sketchy.
“Do we know what happened to Earth?”
“No clue,” Rico said. “The fleet lost contact after a few years.”
Damn. He would have liked to know what had become of the planet. And he would really like to know whether a few old acquaintances were really gone for good. Milo had spent most of his life hunting down his father, seeking for a way to destroy him. Not really revenge—whatever Rico said—more a service to the rest of the world. His father was pure evil. But even if the Earth hadn’t been destroyed, his father was beyond his reach now. Five hundred years and God knows how many millions of miles beyond his reach.
He blew out his breath. It wouldn’t surprise him to discover that Rico had brought him along on this trip for that precise purpose. Rico had long claimed that Milo’s obsession with his father was unhealthy, and that if you made your life about revenge, even if you succeeded, you would be left with nothing. And in some ways, he was right. The search had consumed Milo. So what the hell was he supposed to do now?
“Did all the ships make it?” he asked.
“Not all, no.”
The plan had been for twenty-four ships to leave the Earth. Each carrying ten thousand Chosen Ones. People selected through a lottery process to ensure the survival of humanity. Except the lottery hadn’t been open to everyone—Milo had certainly not received a ticket. So Rico had decided that wasn’t really fair and arranged to exchange half the Chosen Ones on the Trakis Two for people…or whatever…of his own choosing. Milo didn’t know the details, but he suspected it hadn’t gone well for the Chosen Ones involved.
A small, slender woman with black hair and green eyes entered the bridge, followed closely by a tall guy with blond hair and strange, almost purple eyes.
Rico waved a hand toward them. “Katia you know, and this is her friend, Sergeant Logan Farrell of the New World Army.”
He nodded to Katia as she took a seat next to Rico and her friend took the chair on the other side of her. Katia was a werecat who’d worked for Rico a while back. Milo liked her as much as he liked anyone. Her “friend” appeared to be a fairly new werewolf. A strange combination, though they were obviously a couple. There was a sense of closeness to them.
“There’s a New World Army?” he asked.
Katia grabbed a couple of glasses from under the table and poured herself and Logan a drink. “There was,” she said. “Logan here is the sole surviving member. The rest were on the Trakis One when she dived headfirst into a black hole.”
Wow.
He’d missed a lot.
The Trakis One had carried Max Beauchamp, the President of the Federation of Nations. Max was supposed to be in charge when they got to the new world. He was no loss—a total asshole. “The Trakis One is really gone?”
“Well, there’s no coming back from a black hole,” Katia said, then downed her drink.
He’d never seen a black hole, but he wouldn’t have minded seeing Max Beauchamp sucked into one. His lips twitched.
“I think you’re being a little insensitive here,” Rico said. “A lot of people died.”
A lot of people he didn’t know. Why should he care? Hell, he wouldn’t care if most of the people he did know were sucked into a black hole. So why worry about a load of people he’d never met and now never would?
“What is he?” Logan Farrell whispered the question to Katia, but Milo caught the words and realized Logan was asking what he was.
“Can’t you guess?” Rico asked.
Logan shook his head. “Nope. Not a clue.”
“Think magic,” Rico said.
Logan frowned. “A wizard?”
“Close, but no. He’s actually a warlock.”
“There’s a difference?”
Rico leaned across the table and topped off Milo’s glass, which he’d emptied again. “You want to fill him in?”
“No.”
“Why is that no surprise?” Rico snorted. “A wizard is a male witch. They’re mainly human but get a few powers from making dodgy deals with dodgy people. A warlock, like our friend Milo here, is the offspring of a witch and a demon. Their magic mainly comes from demonic powers.” He smirked. “They’re usually unfriendly bastards with chips on their shoulders, and Milo is no exception. He doesn’t play well with others—except unfortunately, this time he doesn’t have much of a choice. Because he owes me.”
The words oozed self-satisfaction, and Milo gritted his teeth.
The truth was, once, a long, long time ago, Rico might have saved his life. And he was never going to hear the end of it. “Just tell me what the fuck you want,” he growled. “I presume there’s something you need me to do.”
“Of course. We’ve been invited to attend a council meeting. On Trakis Four.”
“What council?”
“The newly formed Council for the Advancement of Mankind.”
&n
bsp; He cocked his head. “That sounds completely made up. Is it even a real thing?”
“It is now,” Rico said. “With the Trakis One gone, there’s no one in charge. Some guy called Luther Kinross, on Trakis Four, is making a play for the vacancy, though he’s not saying that outright. The thing is—the other ships are going along with him, so right now we don’t have a lot of choice.”
There was always a choice. “Thanks. But I think I’ll pass.”
“Not an option, my friend.”
Milo sighed. “Why me?”
“Well, we would send Katia and Logan, but Katia was under investigation when the Trakis One went down.”
This just kept getting more convoluted. “Investigation for what?”
“Working with terrorists to destroy the fleet.”
He shot a questioning look toward Katia, and she merely shrugged.
“And there were too many people aware of that,” Rico went on. “Besides, Katia and Logan were supposed to be on the Trakis One when she dived into the black hole. Sending them now will raise too many questions. So I had a think—and came up with you.”
“Why me?” he repeated. “Get to the point.”
“Because you are so charming.”
“Ha.”
“Okay, you’re not particularly charming, but there’s a reason you were the best Facilitator on Earth. You know how to negotiate. You’re level-headed. You can be relied upon not to do anything too stupid. But in the event everything goes to shit, you’ll do what’s necessary. Plus, you can pass for human—which is clearly going to be a big advantage.”
Milo suspected that was the main reason. “And if I do this, then I don’t owe you anymore?”
“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that—I did save your life at great personal risk. But I would be very grateful, and I might even give you your magic stick back.” Rico grinned but then his expression quickly turned serious. “Look, we need information. Find out everything you can about this Kinross guy. Whether he’s got any reason to think he should be in charge and anything to back it up. And most important—is he any threat to us.”
Milo wanted to say hell no, but he also wanted his wand back. “I’ll think about it.”
Rico shook his head. “You didn’t want to come on this trip. I get that. But you’re here now, so make the best of it. This is a chance for a new start. Dios, when you were young, you’d go on and on about changing the world. Making it a place where we wouldn’t have to hide what we are, where we could all live out in the open. Free.”
“That was a long time ago.” He’d been idealistic back then. But the truth was he’d never really let go of that dream, just realized the impossibility of people like him ever being accepted as anything but evil back on Earth. So he’d buried the dream deep. Now it awoke sleepily inside him, nudging at his mind.
“Tell me,” Rico murmured, “that you don’t still want that world.”
A world untainted by religions that claimed they were monsters. “Maybe.”
“Well, this is your opportunity. We can make Trakis Two our world. Unless this Kinross decides to stick his nose in. So get to Trakis Four and find out what’s going on.” Rico took a swallow from the bottle and smiled. “And don’t worry about being lonely. We’re sending Dylan with you.”
Christ, no. “I’d rather go alone.”
“I’m sure you would. But you can’t. They’re expecting two representatives, so you’re going to have to get over the whole I-want-to-be-alone thing and play nice. It won’t be for long. Then you can come back, make your new world, or disappear into the darkness and do whatever the fuck you want.”
“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Then you really need to get out more—another reason for you to be on this job. Practice your social skills.” Rico stood up. “I’m going to make sure your shuttle is ready. Katia and Logan can fill you in on the details of what’s been going on and what subjects to avoid.”
As Rico crossed the room, Milo called after him. “What about my wand? I might need it.”
Rico pursed his lips. “Dios, no. You need to be discreet. Which means the last thing we need is you waving a wand around like Harry-fucking-Potter.” And he was gone.
Milo sat back and sipped his drink, feeling the warmth spread through his stomach. He was still finding it hard to get his head around all of this. They’d come five hundred years across space. And he’d been asleep all that time.
But for now, he was on safe ground. At least for the next few minutes. He looked at the others around the table.
“It appears I’m going for a ride in a shuttle with a werewolf.” His stomach churned at the thought. “What could possibly go wrong?”
Logan raised his glass and grinned. “You really want us to answer that?”
Definitely not.
Chapter Four
“He was a fine, tall, slim young fellow, with black eyes, and hair as dark as the raven’s wing; and his whole appearance bespoke that calmness and resolution peculiar to men accustomed from their cradle to contend with danger.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
Destiny wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Doctor Yang left.
She’d spent most of the time reading The Count of Monte Cristo on the computer. Doctor Yang had provided her with books she deemed suitable, but they were mainly textbooks that had been used back on Earth. Destiny had studied them diligently and she now had the equivalent education of twenty-eight university degrees in subjects as diverse as Quantum Mechanics to Philosophy. She could also speak fifteen languages fluently.
Unfortunately, Dr. Yang believed fiction to be frivolous and inappropriate. But when she was sixteen, Destiny had found a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo buried deep in one of the computer’s hard drives. At first, she hadn’t even realized it was fiction—she’d never encountered a story before. She’d believed it to be true, historical facts. Eventually she had worked out that it wasn’t real, and she’d been utterly fascinated. The story spoke so eloquently of freedom and honor and duty and…love. And a deep craving had awoken inside her for an emotion she hadn’t even known existed.
She’d read and reread the book. Especially at times when she was feeling down.
Like now.
The story gave her hope. Even if it wasn’t real.
Right now, though, she was running on the treadmill, trying to get rid of her excess energy. She’d been feeling so restless since she’d woken from cryo. Before, when they were traveling through space, there had been nowhere to go—the spaceship had been her whole world and so she’d accepted it. Now she felt trapped. Like a prisoner. Outside of the lab, there was a new world to explore, people to meet, and she wanted to be out there so much her chest ached. So she ran until she was too tired to go any farther, too tired to think, until she could feel her heart pounding, and at least she knew she was alive. And still she kept running.
“Destiny?”
She jumped, then slammed her hand on the control to stop the machine. She hadn’t heard Dr. Yang enter, and, breathing hard, she glanced around warily. Her exercise routine had always been carefully monitored and controlled. Today she had exceeded the recommended use of energy and she studied Dr. Yang. Was she annoyed? Would she punish her? But Destiny could tell nothing from the other woman’s expression.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“No, I could tell.” Dr. Yang smiled. “I have good news for you. You’ve been cleared to leave the ship.”
A grin tugged at her lips and she held them tight together. Dr. Yang didn’t like overt expressions of emotion, but inside she was fizzing. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Go shower quickly and collect your things.” She handed Destiny a bag. “We’re leaving right away.”
She jumped off the running machine and hurried to the small bathroom. After stripping off her clothes, she turned the water on to hot. She showered fast then switched to the dryer, bouncing on the balls of her feet as the warm air brushed over her skin. Once dry, she dressed in an identical outfit, pulled on her shoes, then shoved the rest of her things into the bag. Two more identical outfits and a toothbrush. That was all she had.
Dr. Yang was waiting by the external door when she came out.
This was really happening. She was going outside.
She held her breath, sure something would occur to stop them from leaving, as Dr. Yang pressed her palm to the panel and the door slid open. Her breaths were coming hard and fast, and she slowed them down, counting to ten with each one. Then she was stepping toward the door and through it. She stopped for a moment and looked around. They were in a wide corridor with silver walls and bright light overhead. She hurried to catch up with Dr. Yang, who was striding purposefully away. As they came around the corner she almost skidded to a halt as a figure came into sight.
A man.
The first she had ever encountered. He was taller even than her, with short black hair and dark brown skin. He didn’t slow as he passed her, just nodded, and she followed him with her gaze until he disappeared from sight.
Dr. Yang glanced over her shoulder and frowned. “Hurry up, Destiny.”
She shook herself and hurried on.
They came to another doorway. As it slid open, a cacophony of noise hit her ears. She blinked then stepped into a huge, cavernous room filled with things and…people. Men and women. Some pale, some with dark skin, others with Asian features like Dr. Yang. More people than she had imagined could exist in one place. At first it seemed like chaos, but as she watched, she noticed they were actually well organized. They carried things out of the room, unloading the ship. Presumably, this was all the equipment and stores that had been brought with them from Earth. Everything they would need to help humanity settle into their new home.
A couple of men in dark green uniforms seemed to be in charge, directing the unloading. They nodded to Dr. Yang but looked at Destiny curiously. She was dressed differently. The workers were all in beige jumpsuits, hers was yellow—Dr. Yang had let her pick the color. Yellow was her favorite.