by White, Gwynn
I don’t believe one’s past controls one’s future. He heard the words as clearly as if Diana were standing beside him, whispering them into his ear.
“Quiet.” The judge rapped his gavel once upon his desk, silencing the buzz of speculation rising in the room. Derek braced himself for the verdict. Beside him, Mr. Whortley set a hand on his shoulder.
“In light of all the evidence,” the judge continued, “it is the decision of this court that Mr. Byrne serve out a sentence of banishment for life from this, our home planet. We consider it a sufficient punishment. This hearing is now concluded.”
The room erupted, Tipper’s cheering rising over the noise. The judge rose and retired into his chambers, black robes billowing.
“A fine outcome.” Mr. Whortley stood and clapped Derek on the shoulder. “I couldn’t have hoped for better.”
Derek rose, feeling stunned. He’d numbed his senses so thoroughly over the past weeks of imprisonment, bracing himself for the worst, that he wasn’t sure how to take the news.
“How long, before I have to leave Earth?” he asked.
“In matters like this, usually you’ll have a month or two to set your affairs in order, bid family farewell, and the like.” The barrister gave him a keen-eyed look. “Not to mention deciding where you want to go.”
Exile. Not transportation, or imprisonment. Derek’s life was his own again. The knowledge swelled within him, as though he’d swallowed a seed that had suddenly grown all out of proportion.
Where would he go? He hadn’t the faintest idea. Somewhere beyond the INR’s reach, that much was certain. It shouldn’t prove too difficult, as the terrorist organization was focused on reclaiming Ireland’s independence on its home soil, not dispersing out to the stars.
He did know he’d go home and say goodbye to his mother, pay his respects at Seamus’s and his father’s graves. Smell the fresh damp of the rain on the Dublin cobbles and raise a pint in the old neighborhood pub.
And do his utmost to stop thinking about Diana Smythe. He knew she’d never forgive him for his lies.
Unfortunately, the young woman in question was coming toward him, accompanied by Tipper, Nails, and Director Quinn.
“Splendid news!” The director reached Derek and took his hand, pumping it vigorously. “Well, not the part about being banished from Earth, of course. But it could have been far, far worse.”
“Aye,” Derek said.
“I’m sorry you have to go.” Tipper looked up at him. There was a smudge next to his nose—flour maybe, or baking powder. “But just think—you could go anywhere you wanted!”
“I could.” The problem being that Derek had no notion of where that might be.
Then Diana was there, standing before him, and all his yearning for what might have been was a fist in his gut.
“Miss Smythe,” he managed to say. “You’re looking well.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if reconsidering her words.
“Hello, Derek,” she finally said. “Do you think, before you go, that you might be free for dinner?”
“No.” He could not, could not, go down that path.
His battered heart would not survive the strain of trying to regain her friendship, only to lose it again when he left the planet forever.
Her expression fell, and he was sorry for the shadows on her face. But he still would not change his mind. Lady Diana Smythe was not for him, and never would be. She deserved a better destiny than anything a nearly-criminal exile from Earth could offer.
“I imagine you’ll be busy making ready to depart,” Director Quinn said, in an obvious attempt to smooth over the awkwardness of the moment. “Perhaps we could all dine together at some point, before you go.”
Derek gave him a stiff nod. “I’ll let you know. And thank you, director, for your help in this matter. Mr. Whortley was an excellent barrister.”
“After what you did to save Miss Smythe, I could hardly abandon you to the mercies of a public defender,” Director Quinn said. “I’m glad everything turned out as well as it did.”
“Me too,” Tipper said.
Nails, standing behind him, simply nodded.
Derek hardened his heart, then glanced at Diana. He must make it clear they had no future together—for both their sakes.
“Thank you for coming down from London,” he said. “But you needn’t trouble yourself any further on my account.”
She rocked back, blinking, clearly hurt by his words.
It’s better this way, Derek thought fiercely, even as part of him clamored for him to go on his knees and beg her forgiveness. To take her in his arms and hold her close, never letting go.
“But—” Tipper began.
“Hush.” Diana’s voice was subdued. “Mr. Byrne, it was no trouble. I was glad to be here.”
She searched his eyes, and he forced himself to remember they had no future.
“Goodbye, Miss Smythe.” He made her a precise bow, then pivoted and left the room before anyone could hear the sound of his heart breaking in two.
33
The two months allotted to Derek sped past, and before he knew it, all his farewells had been said. And if every night he dreamed of Diana Smythe’s clear gray eyes, well, that was no one’s business but his own.
Finally, the day of his departure came.
It felt odd to stride into the Southampton Spaceport as a ticketed passenger and not an officer of the law. Or a prisoner bound for transportation, thank all the bright stars.
He glanced up at the highest windows, lit with the morning sun, and remembered the view from up there: the intricate dance of spacecraft landing and taking off, the city of Southampton spreading to the River Itchen, and beyond.
Did Diana miss that view, or was she happy with her glittering life in London?
It didn’t matter. He was leaving Earth, and Lady Diana Smythe, forever. The sorrow of it crouched on his shoulders, despite his efforts to shake the melancholy away.
He hefted his traveling valise and strode to berth 194, where the Sláinte waited to lift off. After much thought, he’d decided to take the last transport to New Eire. A brand new colony would be in need of policemen, and at least he had some experience in that regard, despite the bittersweet memories.
There was a small crowd gathered at the bay when he arrived—well-wishers saying their final farewells to friends and family. He didn’t expect anyone to be there for him, but the sound of someone calling his name drew him up short.
“Derek! Oi, Derek Byrne!”
He turned, to see the small figure of Tipper waving wildly at him. Director Quinn stood just beyond, and next to him—Derek’s heart squeezed tight in his chest—Diana.
He’d feared she would come. He’d desperately hoped she would, as well. Curse him for an utter fool.
Director Quinn strode up, smiling, Tipper and Diana right behind him.
“Couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye,” the director said. “I hear New Eire’s a lovely planet.”
“So they say.” It wasn’t home, of course. But it was rumored to be a green and lovely place, and Derek supposed he could do worse.
“Hope so.” Tipper grinned at him. “Since we’re going with you.”
“What?” Derek blinked at the boy. Surely he hadn’t heard the words aright.
Diana stepped forward. “We’re going to New Eire, too.”
The world tipped on its axis, and Derek simply stared at her. Were they playing an elaborate joke on him?
“But… what about London?” he asked.
“I left there two months ago,” she said. “It wasn’t the life for me.”
The metal decking beneath his feet felt suddenly soft, malleable, as everything he thought was true shifted. If he weren’t careful, he’d sink through to some entirely different reality.
“And your work at the spaceport?” He tried again to impose order on the world. To remind Diana of all the reasons she should remain on Earth.
Diana sent the director a quick glance, the hint of a smile on her face. “You didn’t try that hard, sir.”
“We’re going to start a school for pilots,” Tipper said, bouncing up and down on his toes. “Director Quinn is helping, and Diana’s fortune is providing the funding.”
“On New Eire?” Derek felt as though his brain were filled with molasses, his thoughts syrupy and slow as he tried to follow the turn of events.
“Yes,” Diana said. “Some of the best instructors in the galaxy will be teaching there—”
“Thanks to your money,” Tipper cut in.
Diana ignored the interruption. “And in addition to the colonists, the school is open to any streetrat from Earth who wants to register. Passage paid.”
“Though they must stay enrolled for at least a year,” the director added, “or they’ll be shipped home again with nothing to show for it.”
“On New Eire?” Derek knew he was repeating himself, but he could not quite grasp it. “And you’ll be there, Diana? Tipper too?”
“Aye.” Tipper showed his crooked-toothed smile again. “We’re to be part of the first class of students, though Diana will show us all up, I’m thinking.”
She ruffled the boy’s hair fondly. “Don’t sell yourself short, Tip. You’re a clever one, yourself.”
Privately, Derek agreed with Tipper. Diana, with her brilliant mind, would quickly surpass the rest of the students. Before they knew it, she’d be commanding the cockpit of a ship.
Then he shook himself, pulling his thoughts down from dreams of spaceships to focus on Diana once more.
“You’re set on going to New Eire, and leaving Earth?” he asked. Once more, to be absolutely sure.
“Yes.” She met his gaze, her gray eyes clear.
The past fell away, and he was suddenly lighter than air. Not even gravity itself could hold him.
He pulled in a deep breath, then another. The universe was offering him a fresh start, and he’d be an idiot not to seize it with everything he was worth.
“Please, Diana, forgive me,” he said. “I know I was unkind—worse than unkind—when last we met. I pushed you away because, well, because I never thought you’d want this.”
He gestured at the bulk of the passenger ship, the carts teetering with stacked luggage, the laughing, teary goodbyes.
“But I do want this.” She gave him a steady look. “And I forgive you, Derek. I was hoping that, after all that’s happened, we might still be friends.”
She held out her hand. No gloves, he noted. Lady Diana Smythe was gone for good.
Slowly, his heart banging in his chest, he took her hand. Their palms touched, warmth to warmth, and the world thumped back onto a steady axis.
“All aboard!” The announcement rang through the bay. “All aboard for passage to New Eire.”
He still didn’t quite believe it, but there was Diana, holding his hand, Tipper grinning at them. The hatch of the Sláinte stood wide, ready to welcome passengers destined for a new world.
Sometimes, no matter the burdens of the past, the only course was to go forward. To follow the compass of one’s heart straight into the stars.
The End
* * *
Ready for more stories set in the Victoria Eternal universe? Grab a copy of Stars & Steam, and read the short story that inspired Star Compass! www.antheasharp.com
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About the Author
Anthea Sharp is a USA Today bestselling, award-winning author of SF/F fiction. Growing up on fairy tales and computer games, Anthea has melded the two in her award-winning, bestselling Feyland series, which has sold over 150k copies worldwide.
In addition to the fae fantasy/cyberpunk mashup of Feyland, she also writes Victorian Spacepunk, and fantasy romance. Her books have won awards and topped bestseller lists, and garnered over a million reads at Wattpad. She’s frequently found hanging out on Amazon’s Top 100 Fantasy/SF author list. Her short fiction has appeared in Fiction River, DAW anthologies, The Future Chronicles, and Beyond The Stars: At Galaxy’s Edge, as well as many other publications.
Visit her at www.antheasharp.com
Vengeance
A Warships of the Spire Novel
S.M. Schmitz & Lisa Blackwood
When rogue AIs steal everything that matters most, the only thing left is vengeance.
As the flagship of the Spire Empire, Vengeance is a legendary AI whose broken heart has proven his greatest battle yet. But his new telepathic link, a little girl named Hayley, finally teaches him to love again—until rogue AIs attack her planet and level her home in a storm of fire and destruction. Vengeance is left with only one hope in his potentially immortal existence: the chance to avenge his innocent link.
Twenty years later, a young engineer joins his crew, and he’s inextricably drawn to her. But the closer he tries to get to her, the harder she pushes him away.
Olivia Hawthorne risks everything—her friendship with her telepathic sisters and even her life—to assume a new identity so she can serve aboard Vengeance. After suffering at the hands of rogue AIs, she should be wary of trusting one again, even her old friend. And yet, she can’t seem to stay away from him.
But when rogues raid Spire colonies, Vengeance and Liv must learn to overcome the fears shackling them to the past. Because if they want to survive, they’ll have to seek vengeance together.
1
Vengeance glanced down at Hayley as the child skipped beside his humanoid drone. Back aboard his warship body, joy flickered through his primary consciousness. Amused, he found himself smiling, because one day, this small, unassuming child would safeguard his existence as well as thousands of other lives. Her blond hair bounced in its ponytail, and her skin always seemed a bit paler as twilight approached. Surprisingly, the girl looked nothing like her genetic profile had suggested she would, and for seven years, he’d wondered if last minute changes had been made to her genetics. But if there were answers for him, they remained hidden behind repeated insistences that nothing had been changed, that human DNA could be unpredictable.
Hayley held his drone’s hand as they walked back toward the dormitory where she lived with the other girls who would one day serve as links to other Spire warships. Vengeance squeezed her little hand and pointed to the lake in the distance.
“Do you see the bradan leaping from the water, Hayley?” he asked.
She squinted at the shimmering water as a silver crescent sliced through the late afternoon sky. “What is it?”
“An animal,” he explained. “They live in the water but need air to breathe so they leap from the lake. They’re quite docile.”
Hayley looked up at his drone. When he smiled down at her, she smiled back at him and those strong emotions of happiness and protectiveness surged through him again. “What does docile mean?”
He laughed and told her it meant bradan were tame and wouldn’t hurt her if she ever went into the lake to swim.
“I don’t know how to swim, Ven,” she reminded him.
“I know,” he assured her. “I don’t forget things.”
“Oh, I forgot,” she said with a giggle.
“We need to return before it gets dark. The house mother will worry about you.”
“Do you have to go?” Hayley sighed. “I like it when you visit.”
“I like it when I visit you, too,” he offered affectionately. “You’re a remarkable girl, Hayley. You have a strong gift.”
She smiled up at him again and bounced happily on her feet. “And one day, I’ll be your link.”
“Yes,” Vengeance laughed again. “One day, you will. That means we’ll be friends for a long ti
me.”
She nodded and pulled him along the path. He let the little girl drag him behind her as she skipped to the dormitory. He would’ve let her drag him anywhere. The child had completely enchanted him from the moment he’d first met her before she was born. As a telepath created to serve the Spire, she’d been engineered in the Telepathy Breeding Laboratory, where he’d visited her often. Even as a fetus confined to an incubator, he’d regularly reached out to her mind and comforted her. His presence always seemed to calm her.
“Next time you visit,” she said, “let’s go to the lake so I can see a bradan up close.”
“Next time,” he promised.
Hayley twisted around, and he had to stop and steady himself so he wouldn’t run over the small girl. “Do you swear, Ven? Do you swear you won’t be gone too long this time?”
He’d only been away for thirty-three days, but it had probably seemed like a lifetime to a seven-year-old girl. But the Spire had no plans to send him far from Nualla and the Telepath Development School during her early childhood. She didn’t know that, though, so he knelt in front of her and took her other small hand in his. “I’ll return in a few weeks. And I’ll bring you a present you can use at the lake.”
Hayley’s blue eyes lit up, and she bounced happily on the balls of her feet again. “And you’ll teach me to swim?”
Vengeance pretended to think about it until she stopped bouncing and pouted instead. “All right,” he said. “But they’ve tried to teach you already. You’re a bit stubborn, Hayley.”
She fixed him with her most innocent look and retorted, “Probably because I’m meant to be your link, Vengeance. A warship as old as you will need a stubborn link.”
Vengeance blinked at her before laughter erupted from his drone’s chest. While this body had been engineered so he could more fully interact with his crew, he could also feel with it much like a human could. And the way this little girl made him laugh was the most enjoyable emotion he’d felt in centuries.