Aurora Burning: The Aurora Cycle 2

by Amie Kaufman

  I hunker down lower, doing the math. Nobody’s spotted me yet, at least, but my squad is now pinned down in a three-way firefight.

  The ground traffic has slowed to a halt; the air traffic is in chaos. A brief lull falls over the scene as everyone takes a moment to reload. Civilians are fleeing in a panic, alarms are ringing, and there’s already a SecDrone hovering above our heads. I can see Scarlett crouched by Kal’s side, whispering in his ear, while Ty looks up and down the street, searching for an escape route. The head of the Dominion Repository guards, a tall Rikerite with two curling horns sweeping back from his forehead, raises his voice.

  “Emerald City Security is en route! Everybody drop your weapons!”

  Our Mistress of Beauty and Terror completely ignores him, pointing at Kal and a still-convulsing Aurora and addressing Skeff Tannigut with at least a degree of civility. “I am only here for those two, little one.”

  Wait … they want Auri now, too?

  Our Tank rises to his feet in one fluid movement, his face twisted in a snarl. “You are hurting her! Stop this, Saedii!”

  Even at a moment like this, I’ve gotta admit that all those buckles and mesh are a sight to behold. His sister’s jaw drops when she sees him.

  “What are you wearing, Kaliis?” she hisses, openly horrified.

  “Release her at once!”

  “Weapons on the floor!” the goon bellows again. “That means everybody!”

  I’ve stolen around a little closer to my squad, lurking near the building opposite the Dominion’s main entrance, still tapping away at my uniglass with one hand. In all the tension of this three-way standoff, the panicked crowds, nobody’s clocked me yet. But looking across the smoke and wreckage, I see Tyler shoot me the smallest of nods. He’s sharp, my Alpha.

  “If you want those two,” calls the gremp leader, nodding at Kal, “then we can take the rest, and part ways before this becomes more complicated. Agreed?”

  “Now listen,” begins the Dominion goon. “We have authority here. Everybody stand down immediately!”

  “We are the faithful of Caersan, Slayer of Stars,” Saedii calls. “This is Unbroken business. Keep your horns out of it before I slice them off.”

  That rocks the Dominion goon back on his heels. The Starslayer has the governments of most of the galaxy terrified, and nobody wants to get on his bad side—let alone some security chud just trying to earn a living.

  The Dominion guards all exchange uneasy glances and ease off their weapons. Contempt on her face, Saedii emerges from cover, flanked by her Unbroken brethren, and begins stalking toward the Dominion Repository. Kal and the others are still pinned down by the gremps—they’ve got nowhere to run. And my mind’s racing light-years per second, wondering how exactly we’re going to get out of this mess, when Zila’s voice crackles in my comms piece.

  “Finian, is the diversion you mentioned still available?”

  “Zila?” I’d almost forgotten she wasn’t here. “Where are you?”

  “Is the diversion still available?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Please activate it in exactly twelve seconds from my mark,” Zila replies, calm as ever. “I am en route with transport. Mark.”

  I can hear the incoming sirens—Emerald City Security is on its way. I slide my fingers over the uniglass, forcing my way into the Dominion Repository’s systems with all the finesse of that metaphorical ultrasaur that stomped me earlier. I catch Tyler’s eye—he’s heard Zila’s message, too. And as Saedii and her crew draw close, I activate the fire extinguishers set up on the marquee in front of the Repository, and the whole world vanishes in a cloud of blinding white fog.

  Over the shouts and curses of at least five species, I hear rising sirens, the hiss of air brakes behind me. My stomach sinks as a heavy airvan barges its way into the intersection, lights flashing, the words EMERALD CITY SECURITY PATROL stenciled on the side. But my heart surges as the door is thrown open and I see a familiar figure sitting behind the controls.

  “Zila?”

  She motions to me, face calm, eyes blank. I break from cover, trying for a run. But my suit finally fritzes at the sudden movement; my knee gives out and I stumble, momentum carrying me forward, hands flailing as I fall. And then someone has me, pain shooting up my shoulder as they catch my elbow and yank me upright.

  It’s Tyler, and beyond him, Kal with Auri limp in his arms, Scarlett carrying the box they rescued from the vault. A dozen disruptor blasts fly out of the fire foam behind us, hit the wall by my head, spraying me with sparks. My breath’s coming quick and hard, and Tyler’s half carrying me as we throw ourselves into the van. I nearly slide right back out again as Zila guns it and the whole vehicle tilts. The Jones twins grab me in concert, and Scarlett hauls me back in as Tyler reaches past me to slam the door, a barrage of disruptor blasts and another of those crackling red energy coils crashing against the hull.

  “Punch it, Zila!” Tyler yells.

  All five of us in the back are crushed up against one wall as Zila stomps the accelerator, takes a corner like she’s tired of living, and zooms out into the thoroughfare. Tyler scrambles past me to slide into the copilot’s seat.

  “You stole a police cruiser?” he asks.

  “You asked me to secure transport,” Zila says serenely, reaching across to turn up the volume on our sirens. The vehicles in front of us part as their autopilots kick in, then close behind us once more, helping block pursuit. I realize she’s wearing dangly gold earrings with little bank-robber masks on them.

  Wait, wasn’t she wearing gremps this morning?

  Tall buildings race past as we roar through the posh end of town, gilt and white facades intermingled with red and green topiaries and decorated portals to the transport-tube network.

  In the back of the van, Scarlett and Kal have managed to unwrap the crackling bands from around Auri’s body. As Kal kicks them into one corner, the energy in them sputters and dies. Auri’s gasping for breath, her cheeks streaked with tears. Technically I’m the squad member who’s supposed to assist Zila with medical duties, so, gritting my teeth, my suit whining, I crawl over and bring up the med-scan function on my uniglass. Scarlett’s giving me an unforgettable view down that damn corset as she leans over Auri, though to my credit I try very hard not to notice.

  “What did they shoot her with?” she demands, staring at the lifeless bands.

  “Saedii’s weapon of choice,” Kal says. His face is grim, his eyes full of fury as he cradles Auri’s head. “An agonizer.”

  “A what now?”

  “A Syldrathi weapon,” I offer, remembering my mechaneering classes at the academy. “The bands hook into your neural network, overload your nervous system. It’s kinda like a disruptor on Pacification setting, but waaaaay more painful.”

  “Is she gonna be okay?” Scarlett asks.

  “She’s just stunned,” I say a moment later, holding up the med-scanner. “No permanent damage. I’m guessing the Unbroken didn’t want her slamming them with her brain magic again. Quick learners.”

  “Aurora?” Kal asks, gently stroking Auri’s cheek. “Can you hear me?”

  “K-Kal?” she whispers.

  Pixieboy sighs with relief, the muscles in his jaw relaxing. “Yes, be’shmai?”

  “Your s-sister is a real bitch… .”

  The joke has us grinning, despite the trouble we’re in. But Zila’s voice from the driver’s seat kills our smiles real quick.

  “I do not mean to interrupt,” she says. “But we are being pursued.”

  “By?” Kal asks, lifting his head.

  “Skeff Tannigut and her associates, the Unbroken, Dominion Repository security, Emerald City law enforcement, and the officers who were formerly in charge of this airvan.”

  “Yay?” I offer.

  “Do we have a destination?” Zila asks.

  Scarlett fishes around in her corset (Eyes forward, de Seel, eyes forward) and brandishes a passkey. “There’s a ship waiting for us at
Gamma Promenade.”

  Her brother twists around in his seat to gape at her. “What?”

  “You won’t believe what we found in the Repository,” Scarlett tells him. “But for now, there’s a ship waiting, and we need a ride out of here.”

  “Gamma Promenade it is,” Tyler says, turning back to the road ahead. “But we can’t lead them all there. We need to lose our tail.”

  I know that in this moment, I’m not the only one who thinks of Zero. That girl could drive anything you can imagine, steer it through the eye of a needle with one hand tied behind her back. The pang hits me like a punch.

  I was such a dick to her. Did she take it seriously? Did she understand I’m just terrible at sincerity?

  Instead of Zero, we have Goldenboy and Zila in the front of the airvan. Ty’s a decent pilot, but until today, I didn’t even know Zila could drive. And I’m wondering if Ty should be the one on the stick when she narrows her eyes, looking straight ahead.

  “Lose our tail,” she nods. “Understood.”

  Ty raises one scarred eyebrow. “Zila?”

  “Squad,” she says calmly, “please secure your safety harnesses.”

  · · · · ·

  The airvan screeches into Gamma Promenade in a spray of sparks, the turbines screaming like Rigellian opera singers. Choking black fumes are pouring out of the engine bay, several traffic cones are embedded in our ventilation intakes, and we’re trailing a large smoking banner that reads HAPPY 50TH LIFEDAY, FRUMPLE in Chellerian. Tyler twists around to check we’re all intact, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen our fearless leader so wild around the eyes.

  “Maker’s breath, Zila,” he mutters.

  “A formidable performance,” Kal agrees, deeply respectful.

  Auri groans from her chair, lolling against her harness. “You should design roller coasters.”

  The engine gives one last desperate cough, sputters, and dies. Zila reaches for the release just as the whole door falls off with a crash. Everyone sits where they are for a long moment, savoring the sensation of being alive. Or in my case, reviewing some of the rash promises made to my Maker over the last quarter hour, in return for my survival.

  “We should proceed with all due haste,” Zila says, staring at us expectantly. “They will easily be able to follow our trail.”

  “We did leave a little debris,” Scarlett agrees.

  One by one we come to life, climbing out of our poor getaway vehicle, staggering for balance. I try not to wince at the pain as my feet hit the deck. It turns out the Gamma docks are Emerald City’s long-term berthing area—many of the ships around us are secured for an extended stay. Our own berth is farther along, but the airvan isn’t moving another meter, so we’re on foot.

  I’m nearly as unsteady on my feet as Auri, but I stumble after the others toward Berth 9, counting the ships and mentally weighing each one. That one would be okay, that one would be good, that one would be amazing… .

  I see it a couple of ships out, and I involuntarily slow, my eyes locked on the … thing that’s waiting for us. I count again, just in case I’m wrong. As we come to a halt in front of it, I look down at the number stenciled on the ground at our feet.

  9[a].

  “You’ve gotta be kidding,” Tyler whispers.

  “We should have gone with the sewage hauler,” Scarlett replies quietly. “At least it didn’t look like it was made of crap.”

  The rust bucket in front of us is a little larger than our old Longbow, and it brings a new meaning to butt-ugly. It looks like someone ripped apart six or seven other vessels, trawled through the wreckage to find all the least attractive parts, then welded them together. It was once painted red, but it’s now completely covered in rust, the bulbous cockpit window almost opaque with dirt, black streaks running down its flanks from every bolt and rivet. It’s like someone who hated speed, efficiency, and style sat down to draw up their dream ship. And then had a really good day at the office.

  “Are we completely sure the admiral is on our side?” I ask.

  This can’t be the one we’re looking for—there’s no way Adams could promise to help us and then leave us something like this.

  “Maybe s-someone switched the ships?” Auri tries.

  “No …” Tyler’s voice is quiet. “This is the one.”

  He walks forward to brush away the rust and grime coating the nameplate beside the main hatch. When he draws his now-filthy hand away, we can all see the ship’s name embossed on the metal.

  ZERO

  How could the ship possibly be named after her?

  Tyler presses his palm to the sensor plate by the hatch. I’m about to break the news that this thing has less juice left in it than my fourth great-grandfather—and he died before I was born—when the door slides open soundlessly.

  Our Alpha looks back at us, and then up along the dock. He knows we won’t have lost our pursuers for long, and we don’t have time to fool around. And, terrible as it is, trying to get this thing up into orbit isn’t actually our worst choice today. I can see a SecDrone already hovering above our position, and a variety of other horrible options are no doubt closing in on our position as we speak.

  So when Goldenboy steps through the hatch and into the dark interior, the rest of us follow. I’m holding my breath, but it’s more a fear of toxic mold than suspense. With a smooth hum, the internal lighting comes to life.

  And it’s like we’re in another world.

  A spotless, gleaming, high-tech world that catches my attention in almost the same way Scarlett Jones does.

  “Wow,” Auri murmurs.

  “You said it, Stowaway,” I murmur.

  Great Maker, this is … incredible.

  Everything is beautifully designed, from the cockpit to the consoles running the length of the main cabin. A suite of displays light up as I watch, broadcasting security vision from the ship’s exterior, from Emerald City main traffic control, and from news feeds around the galaxy. If the outside of this ship was designed to be as ugly as possible, its interior was designed with the exact opposite philosophy in mind. It’s sleek, white, cutting-edge. A Gearhead’s wet dream.

  Tyler’s already sliding into the pilot’s seat, beginning his preflight check.

  “Strap in,” he says simply. “Let’s be gone before they get here.”

  There’s a long, elegant console running half the length of the main cabin behind him, lined with three chairs on either side. The back half of the cabin has consoles with more oomph and larger displays, couches, and doors that lead to storage, sleeping quarters, and the galley.

  Scarlett touches my arm and nods at a chair on the far side of the console. I realize it’s designed for me. There are ports for me to plug into, and the seat is molded to allow for my suit. As I glance around, I realize all the seats are personalized—Kal’s is larger; Auri’s and Zila’s are smaller.

  I exchange a long, baffled glance with Scarlett, and then we slide into our allotted places. Our harnesses snake over our shoulders automatically, our chairs swiveling to face forward for launch.

  “We have incoming hostiles,” Kal reports.

  His fingers dance over the console by his chair, projecting one of the external cams up into the air above us. I see he’s right—the Unbroken have arrived first, and they’re sprinting along the dock in our direction, shoving anyone in their way straight over the edge. I can see Emerald City Security behind them.

  Tyler’s still running through his preflight, working at light speed now, muttering to himself as he punches controls. With a clunk the Zero decouples from the dock, rising smoothly into the air with the soft rumble of our drive systems.

  But Saedii’s only a few steps away, and she’s accelerating.

  Black hair whips around her face in the ship’s downdraft, her expression is cold, beautiful, terrifying. I see her reach the edge of the dock two heartbeats after we’ve pulled away, and without even a downward glance at the void below, she simply launches herself at us
across the gap.

  We watch on cams, riveted as she clings to our closed hatch with boot tips and fingernails, pounding at the metal, rust flaking away under her fists. I’m transfixed, staring at the door, half expecting her to tear her way through.

  Kal’s mouth is open, and though he doesn’t speak, I can tell what he’s thinking. It’s a loooong fall down to the chlorine storm raging below the city, and the pressure and temperature will both kill her quick. Despite everything, I’m sure he doesn’t want his sister to die.

  Fortunately, Tyler’s not feeling as murderous as she is. Carefully, he tilts his controls, circling back above the dock as her feet peel away. Saedii dangles by her fingertips for one long, agonizing moment, and then, with a curse that almost melts a hole straight through the hull, she’s forced to let go, falling to the dock below and landing amid the other Syldrathi, who scatter like kazar birds.

  “Security inbound,” Zila reports.

  Without a word Tyler straightens Zero up, wheeling through the ionized dome and into the raging atmosphere beyond. Our new ship barely registers the turbulence as we hit it, flying smoother than I’d have thought possible.

  “This baby is a beast,” I sigh.

  “Bye-bye, Emerald City,” Scarlett murmurs. “You will not be missed.”

  Auri looks around with a smile. “We made it.”

  “We did.” Tyler nods. “But we still have a long way to go.”

  Our Alpha turns in his chair, his voice all business as he looks at me.

  “Legionnaire de Seel?”

  “Yessir?”

  “Bring up those coordinates. Let’s go find the Hadfield.”

  7

  FINIAN

  The doors to our quarters lead off a gleaming white hallway, the auto-lights slowly glowing to life ahead of me. Some of the doors are unmarked, but the second on the left has the image of a khyshakk beetle—the indomitable symbol of my people and the oldest species still living on our planet—outlined in blue paint.

  I brush my fingers across the access panel, and as the door hums aside softly, I can see why this room is for me. Instead of the clean, light colors that adorn the rest of the Zero, the walls are dark gray to give the impression I’m underground. There’s even a flic vine growing down the wall to my right, taking me back for a moment to my cousin Dariel’s den on the World Ship, and further than that, to my parents’ home on Trask. As the door hums closed behind me, the flic vine’s leaves come to life, glowing gently enough that I could take my contact lenses out if I wanted.