by White, Gwynn
Now his mouth tugged upward. “You really think failed flickers get sent home?”
She went stiff, struggling to keep her face impassive. “Why wouldn’t they?”
The moment the words escaped her lips, she knew how naïve her question sounded. It was clear from the high commander’s bemused expression that he was thinking the same thing. “Security issues,” he said simply. “Not to mention the cost involved.”
“So it’s true. You kill flickers who fail.”
He chuckled. “Of course not. They’re useful in other ways, but we keep them under very tight security. We can’t have failed flickers running around breeding and being snatched up by the enemy to use against us. It’s hardly a secret that the emperor monitors your population very carefully for the safety of the realm.”
“What other ways?” she demanded. “What do you do with—”
“Enough,” he spat. “Your little stunt with the escape pod this morning is unforgiveable. You’re fortunate you didn’t try to open the door. You would have been killed on the spot. Now that you know what’s at stake, you will answer my questions. Are there other flickers in your family?”
She fingered the container of medicine in her jacket pocket. Kane knew her father. She’d have to choose her words carefully. “I’m not a flicker. I just read the cards for tourists, that’s all.”
“Not a flicker?” He exhaled in a burst, almost like it was a chuckle. “Fine, I’ll play your game, gypsy. You’re going to predict my future just like you did for young Stefan a few days ago.”
Had it only been days? It felt like months. “That was a performance. I made it up. Did a poor job of it, too.”
“I spent twelve years scouting your kind as a seeker. I know a flicker when I see one, and your reading of young Stefan was impressive. Refuse me, and I will fail you here and now. Like I said, failed flickers have their purpose.” He paused. “Particularly the women.”
Nausea swept through her as she realized what the officer was suggesting. The anger that had pooled in her stomach began to leak into her blood now. She welcomed it, letting it expand and fill her with power. She would never belong to this man.
Fine. If failing wasn’t an option, she’d just find another way off this ship and away from Kane’s greedy clutches.
Ember closed her eyes and began to hum, but she wasn’t gentle this time. She found his inner light and slammed into it, the memory of his sinister, suggestive smile singeing a hole into her mind. The light pulsed and fluttered.
She sifted through the man’s memories. Five older brothers and a sister. A woman in a white uniform holding an infant. A funeral. The emperor’s offer of a new position. Battle after battle. Kneeling at the emperor’s feet, watching the old man’s hands tremble with age. A more recent scene of Kane arguing with another high commander.
One light on the fringe pulsed brighter than the others. She reached out, hesitant, but the vision came to her before she could pull back.
High Commander Lazarus Kane stood gazing out the window at the battle beyond. It was like a giant chessboard, this battle. It had taken him years of fighting to finally understand the truth of it. Every living being was just a pawn waiting to be placed wherever the master liked.
Today he was the master.
Lazarus smiled and lifted a single finger, then pointed it at the largest enemy ship.
He would have liked it to explode, but the lights in the windows simply flickered and died. The starboard thrusters went next. His fighters, seeing the massive ship’s shields disabled, quickly swooped in to finish it off. Seconds later, a huge cloud of fire consumed the vessel.
He grinned again and pointed at the next ship.
The girl at his side flinched, but she was just another pawn too. An important piece. A queen, perhaps. He admired her slender form as she stood there, her dark eyes wide at the realization of what she had just done, her black hair falling forward into her face.
The emperor would be watching this battle with interest. He might even be excited at the prospect of ending the war in a single battle. But Lazarus’s plans extended far beyond destruction of the enemy. There was a greater prize to be won than the bits of glory given at the old man’s hand.
Ember yanked herself out of the vision with a gasp. She was on the floor, her chair overturned.
The commander calmly looked down upon her, but his eyes were bright with excitement. “Do you always react so dramatically, gypsy?”
She sat on the ground, trembling. That terrible image of Kane standing next to the window wouldn’t leave her—the way he’d pointed with no regard whatsoever for the lives he was taking.
And the very worst thing of all, the most horrifying twist she could imagine . . .
The girl at his side was Ember.
“Do you still deny your power, gypsy girl? It’s obvious you saw something.”
Ember’s voice came out hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. “You glory in death. You—you murder people and call yourself a hero!”
He dismissed her words with a flick of the hand. “We’re at war. The only difference between a hero and a villain is whose side you’re on.” He tapped his knuckles on the table, and the door whooshed open, revealing the waiting guard.
“Sir?”
“The girl appears a bit ill, so escort her to the medical bay. She was given a pill upon arrival, but I want a more thorough flush performed immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned on her. “Congratulations, gypsy girl. You’ve passed phase one.”
13
Ember stumbled out of the medical bay, hand on the wall to hold herself up.
“Get back in here,” the medic called out behind her. “You can’t walk around for another twenty minutes.”
She shook her head and straightened, burying the nausea inside her. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t. Ember had never been through such an invasive, terrible procedure. First they’d made her drink some horrible liquid, then she’d spent an hour in the bucket room—bathroom—vomiting. Along with the germs and bacteria, she also felt like she’d lost a liver and kidney.
Though that wasn’t nearly as bad as witnessing that terrible man’s future.
Her stomach churned at the memory, at the utter callousness Kane had displayed. She wished her mind could be cleared rather than her body. Her vision of Stefan kissing her was nothing compared to this.
Surely the stars were wrong about what awaited her. If she could just get home, none of it could happen. She had to focus on her goal.
But not right now. She just wanted to go back to her room and disappear into a blissful sleep. Even now her stomach was unsteady enough that she never wanted to eat again. Thank the stars she’d skipped breakfast.
Holding on to the rail, she slowly made her way down the corridor leading to the lift near her quarters. Two hallways later, she caught the scent of food and realized how near she was to the cafeteria. It was just ahead—and so was another trip to the bathroom if she didn’t get away from the smell. Holding her nose, she stumbled past the double doors.
“Hey, you passed.” Stefan approached and halted abruptly when he saw her face. “Whoa. What happened?”
She gritted her teeth. Why now, of all times? “Commander Kane felt a flush was in order.”
“Ah.” He nodded sympathetically. “I went through that when I was eight. By the look on your face, I’m guessing they haven’t improved the process any.”
She gripped the side rail more tightly and shook her head.
“I’ll help you to your room.” He took her arm and draped it over his shoulder. Somewhere from deep beneath the nausea, she realized Stefan was more toned than she’d thought.
No, she reminded herself. She was going home to marry a respectable Roma man. The future her gift had revealed could never be. Not if it meant fulfilling Kane’s future as well.
“But you’ll miss lunch,” she managed.
“I already ate.”
/> A lie. He’d been heading toward the cafeteria, not away from it, but she didn’t have the strength to argue. It was clear she’d never make it to her room on her own.
He placed his other hand on her waist, sending a shower of tingles up her spine. He was now supporting most of her weight.
“Is this all right?” he asked, sensing her discomfort. “I guess I could carry—”
“No,” she barked. “This is fine.”
“I was going to say I could help carry you to find a hoverchair,” he said, “but if this works . . .” He grinned as he continued to help her move forward.
It was several minutes before they reached the wing where the flickers’ quarters were situated. The silence between them was heavy yet comfortable. He seemed to sense that Ember wasn’t in the mood to talk. Two flickers Ember recognized from yesterday walked past them with raised eyebrows. Stefan greeted them casually, as if he escorted sick girls home all the time.
When they finally reached her door, she extracted herself from his arms and stood shakily on both feet. They held this time, but her nausea still threatened to manifest itself.
“I found a shipping department on deck thirty-three central,” he whispered. “In case you still need to mail your package. Not sure how expensive it is, but hopefully they deliver to Earth. I know you’re worried about your dad.”
“Thirty-three,” she repeated. “Thanks.”
The bitterness in her voice must have been evident, because he waited until a group of workers passed before he spoke again. “I know you don’t want to be here. But since you are, why not explore a bit? I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted a tour of the recreation deck.”
“I thought you wanted to stay away from me.”
His smile faded. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You feel guilty. You feel responsible for me being stuck here. Is that it?”
“No. Well, yes, but—”
“If you’re worried I’m mad at you, just forget it. Go impress your friends and pass their tests and become a better flicker than your brother. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
His thick eyebrows drew together in a grimace. “Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want anyone to know about Adam? From the moment they dragged you onto the ship, my friends haven’t stopped asking me questions.” He released a long breath, then spoke more slowly. “Look, I’m not here to impress anyone, Ember. I’m here because I want to serve the Empire. Because I believe in it. The Empire isn’t perfect, but it’s better than the way things were before.”
“It’s better for you. Not for everyone.”
“You honestly believe Earth would be better off without the Empire? It wouldn’t even exist. The scavengers would have destroyed it long ago.”
Stefan knew more about her planet than she’d guessed, but she wasn’t ready to give in yet. “They don’t come around very often. We could fight them off if the Empire would allow us weapons.”
“I thought you were a peaceful people. That’s what the info screens say.” He cocked his head. “Although having known you a few days, I’d say that couldn’t be further off.”
“Very funny.” The door opened, but she hesitated. “Info screens, you say?”
His defensiveness went back up. “I looked up the history of your people last night. I needed some good reading.”
Interesting. She couldn’t help but wonder what the Empire thought of the Roma people. Ember knew a little of her own town’s history, but it was hard to get specifics from the elder Roma. All she knew was that the Roma had been left behind during the great exodus. Once everyone left, they had traveled from the desert to the coast, where the land was more fertile. They’d taken over the agricultural buildings and now grew their own food, but their fertile land and freshwater were growing more scarce as Empire’s restrictions grew.
“So the info screens are on the recreation deck?” she prodded.
“I thought that might catch your attention. If you meet me tonight, I’ll show you how they work.” He sighed. “Well, I have something right after dinner, so let’s meet there around 20:00, if you think you’ll be up to it. Deck 59. There should still be screens available that early. If we wait until later, the gamers will stake their claim and play all night.”
She nodded despite herself. “Fine.” If these info screens had information about her people, maybe they had current news as well. “And thanks for the tip about the shipping department. I didn’t think you’d actually help me.”
“Help you? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He threw her a mischievous grin. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”
* * *
Deck thirty-three looked just like every other deck until Ember reached the central packaging unit. The woman at the desk was on a call, talking so fast Ember could barely understand her. The lady thumbed through the virtual file hovering in front of her, its outline barely visible. She finally closed the call with a quick “Yes, ma’am” and turned to Ember, looking her up and down. “What?”
“I need to ship something,” Ember said.
“You’re a flicker.” The words darted out of her mouth so quickly Ember almost didn’t catch their meaning.
Ember raised an eyebrow, unsure what the woman wanted her to say. “Yes?”
“Officers don’t send flickers to run errands, so this must be a personal issue. This is a military station, with military personnel and vehicles. We don’t ship things for soldiers.”
“But—”
“I don’t care if your baby brother is dying or your best friend is committing suicide or your planet is about to explode. And believe me, I’ve heard it all. I can’t take whatever it is you want to send. You’ll have to wait for reassignment on a civilian planet. Some mercenary will be happy to take care of it for you.”
Ember took a deep, frustrated breath. “You don’t understand.”
“No, you don’t understand. Using military resources to send a personal package is illegal—against the law, punishable by imprisonment, unethical, and in nowise allowed. Now leave me to my work.” The woman turned back to the screen and began fumbling with it again.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Ember said quietly. “They kidnapped me. My father desperately needs this medicine on Earth. There must be something I can do.”
The woman tensed, her fingers pausing midair. “Did you say Earth?”
Ember nodded.
Fast-talking lady muttered something under her breath and began her fumbling again.
“Excuse me?”
“Talk to Ambrose,” she repeated, her voice barely audible. “Short, fat guy who comes in once a day. He hasn’t been in yet, so if you wait in the hall, you might catch him. Now stop looking so hopeful. There’s a camera above your head, you know.”
Ember let her shoulders slump as if disappointed, then turned toward the door. But inside her heart was leaping. Ambrose.
It was her smuggler—the one who visited Earth once a month for deliveries. Even better, he was still here. She was willing to forgive him for standing her up if it meant he could help her now. The man had a ship somewhere on this planet where he stored his illegal cargo. Surely there was enough space for her on that ship. And if he refused to take that risk, he could at least deliver Dai’s medicine for her until she got home.
Ember stood in the hallway for a while, bouncing on her toes and pacing to contain her excitement. After forty minutes, her frustration had ceased to become an act—she was supposed to meet Stefan any minute now. She could hear the woman inside bidding her coworkers farewell. The dock was closing for the night.
She checked her wristband for the sixtieth time and sighed. Another day wasted. Tomorrow would bring another test, another humiliation, another day under that dreadful man’s thumb. Ember had showered the moment she’d returned to her room, trying to wash the filth of his vision away, but she still felt the taint on her soul.
Ember would come back tomorrow. And the next day. Whatever
it took to meet Ambrose, she would do it. He would make everything right.
She gave the shipping door one last look, then trotted toward the lift.
14
Ember was blasted with the sound of loud music as the lift opened onto the rec deck—at least she thought it was supposed to be music. It thumped through her soul in a harsh, sharp way. Not at all beautiful or poetic. The crowd mingled, bodies dancing to the sounds pumping through the wall speakers. And the way they combined themselves—it just seemed wrong. Men and women dancing together. They couldn’t all be married.
Ember scanned the room and found the info-screen booths on the opposite wall. She’d have to push through the crowd to get there. If Stefan was correct, the crowd would only get bigger—and drunker—as the night wore on. She didn’t see Stefan anywhere. If he was dancing, she’d never be able to distinguish his face from the hundreds of other faces under the colorful lights.
She stepped into the pool of writhing bodies, grimacing as she received an elbow to the face. Halfway through, someone stepped on her foot, but eventually she managed to reach the other side. The lighting here was blue, bathing everything in an eerie, cold hue. A few screens were set into the walls, and people sat in front of them, bizarre-looking goggles on their faces.
She chose an empty screen and sat but didn’t put the goggles on. Instead, she touched the screen.
“What can I do for you?” the automated woman’s voice said in Common. No language options, of course. A display of options appeared at her fingertips. She read through them slowly, wishing she’d practiced her Common a bit more thoroughly. Entertainment. Games. News. Music videos. Education. Research.
She tapped the last one, and a huge menu appeared. She scanned through the items until one caught her eye. She selected it and sat back to watch, breathless. Was this really stored here for anyone to see?