by Casey Lea
Darsey turned in Wing’s arms and tried to see where the shriek was coming from, but her husband swung her behind him before she could. She had no clear view of what was happening, but the sense of horror grew as more people shared it.
Fear leapt from mind to mind, escalating as it went, to become a panic that carried the crowd with it. People began to move and then run, fleeing from the darkened edge of the nest.
Wing and Darsey were pushed backwards, struggling to stay on their feet against the mass of bodies. The stampede swept them against the wedding dais and he lifted her over his head and up to safety.
Stay, his frond ordered, before he turned and pushed his way back into the wall of confused and stumbling bodies. She saw him haul a young sub to his feet, the beanpole boy from the shuttle, before the youngster could be trampled, but then he was gone.
“Wing,” Darsey called, scared of losing him in the riot and, as if in answer, a golden hand clutched the edge of her stage. She leapt forward to help, gripping the scrabbling fingers and they instantly clutched back.
They held Darsey's hand tight and pulled, so that she collapsed onto her knees. The grasping fist relaxed briefly, but before she could escape, it snatched higher, to grip her wrist.
It held so hard she lost all feeling in her arm. Another groping hand appeared, followed by a head rising over the dais edge, and Darsey froze. She stopped prying at the fingers still tightening in her wrist and stared instead at the remains of Gull Snowbeak.
The ship’s Senior looked back from the ruin of his face, but when he tried to focus, his left eye puckered and slid downwards, along with the skin that had been his cheek.
Darsey made a small, inarticulate noise and started striking at his arm. Her fist flew through his protective field to break the bones in his wrist, but he seemed unmoved. White shards cut through his brittle skin like claws shredding paper, while his grip tightened.
The melting kres looked down at her trapped hand and the folds of skin across his lower face split in what might have been a smile.
“Mistake,” he whispered, and even though that word cracked and broke, rising an octave, it was chilling. “For sure, your husband will soon return.”
A sound on the far side of the platform seemed to promise just that, but Darsey turned her head to see Lady Grace scrambling onto the dais. Clear appeared behind her, boosted to apparent safety too and they were followed by Wing and Free.
Gull levered himself up over the edge in response, using Darsey to balance his weight and then dragged her backwards, away from her husband. She crouched on the opposite side of the wedding dais and Gull pulled her trapped arm up behind her back, to make her gasp.
Wing’s face set as bleak as sleet, but his eyes were molten gold. “Don’t,” he stated flatly and although there was no answer the pressure on Darsey’s arm eased. She sent Wing a shaky smile and he nodded gravely back, but she could sense his shock.
Lady Grace belatedly tottered to her feet too and was the first to break the silence. “Well, this pecks.” She tilted her head sideways and studied Gull with disgust. “Why hold fast to the girl, traitor? I assume there’s no safe spot on board to flee to.”
“T-true,” the ex-Senior agreed. His voice whistled and burbled while the body supporting it continued to change. It took him a moment to co-ordinate his limbs, but his hands slowly opened and he managed to release Darsey.
Wing leapt to catch her when she staggered free and swept her back across the dais to join their friends, lined along its far edge. They clung together briefly, but then Darsey turned, being careful not to knock Grace off their perch, to face her attacker. Gull had oozed closer to the centre of the platform and seemed to be congealing there while his skin bubbled and lost color.
“What’s happening?” Darsey whispered, and it was Grace who answered.
“The traitor is becoming a bomb. His cells are changing their very structure to form volatile chemicals that will soon combine. No part of this ship will survive intact.”
“Oh.”
Silence returned and Darsey realized that the frond cascade that had swept the room with panic was gone. The crew was huddled together across the chamber, but a number of them were already edging back toward their leader.
Free was staring aghast at his ex-senior, but abruptly stepped away from the group to confront his old friend.
“You were my mentor. From graduation, you were my most respected superior. We shared all danger. When I earned my first command you asked to join me. You said you'd serve with no-one else. Gull, I thought we had loyalty. I felt it-”
“No, lord,” his ex-senior’s voice whistled and sighed. “We had respect. We had love, but my loyalty was already foresworn. To the Arck. Sharpeye and I studied together, shipped together, and I gave oath to him long before you drew first breath. He made our empire truly great. We owe him all honor. He keeps our families safe and our worlds stable. We’ve no need of meddlemuch gene teks and the danger they bring.”
He had to pause, panting, and gave Grace a venomous glance before his one eye rolled back to glare at Wing instead. “We’ve certain-sure no need of those who hide in shadows.” He was forced to pause for several whistling breaths, but Free’s emotions had steadied.
‘What does he mean?’ Clear wondered, looking toward Wing, but her husband sent her a warning frond touch they all felt.
“He’s raving, clear enough.”
“Not,” the remains of Gull spat. “The Shadows truly exist and your precious Wing is one such. He was sent to the Rim as their spy, and was all safe in-mission while you fretted for him.”
Grace made a small satisfied sound, as if she’d guessed something correctly, but Darsey was bewildered. It seemed her husband had secrets. None of which were presently important.
Free was certainly untouched by the revelation and stepped forward again. “I know all of Wing's affairs and am well satisfied.”
Gull stopped in surprise, but then fresh malice flowed from his twisting fronds. “I know much of Nightwing too. As does our all-sensing Arck. He lets the Shadows run such missions as suit, but their secret order is the true danger. They dare to judge what best guards our people, but that power falls to Sharpeye only.”
“Please!” Grace snapped, sending impatience and disgust. “You’ve come to kill us, no need for torture too. Spare us your political justifications and just murder the chick who still holds to you as a surrogate sire.” She had to pause for breath too and her defiance proved too much for her. She lost her balance, falling forward while she groped for her cane.
Darsey moved quickly to catch the old lady and managed to steady her, but Grace’s hand felt incredibly small and dry in hers, shrunken like the dessicated claw of a long-dead bird of prey.
Grace clung to Darsey in response and one of her bristled, old fronds rustled higher to make contact with her supporter. You’ve strength, girl, and control. Use them better. Use them well. Now take my necklace. Yes, the jewel. I’ll drop it free on two. One... two.
Darsey blinked in surprise. Not at the lecture, but at the order. However, her hand snaked out automatically and something landed in it. She gripped it tightly and winced when that something cut her palm. She swore softly and dropped the gem, but caught its chain, which she wrapped around her wrist.
Take care, the old lady thought. It’s sharp-as.
Thanks for the belated warning. Grace-
The old lady abruptly pulled away, pushing herself upright on her cane, while throwing one last word back at Darsey. Go.
Where? Wing wondered, clearly receiving the same command and Grace looked up at him with a grimace.
“I’ve all times tried to keep you safe. More so than any other, yet I’ve often failed. Not this time, though.” She turned carefully away to face Free and hobbled to join him in the middle of the dais. “You also. You’ve grown into a most Honorable kres and I’m proud of you. Now back.” Back.
Free took a few hesitant steps in response to her
frond command and she shooed him with a hand, making him move more quickly to rejoin the others.
Gull collapsed further in a spray of body fluids, and his voice warbled wildly. “Time… to bid… farewell. My mind is… near gone and all restraint with it… we die soon.”
However, he was ignored as the young couples' attention remained fixed on the old lady and her unexpected farewell.
“Grace,” Wing began, but the Leader of the BGP gave him no chance to finish.
Instead, she smiled affectionately, before her arm snapped out, her com blazed, and she shot him.
That blast caught Wing first and then Free, to hurl them both from the dais. A second later it hit Darsey and Clear, who tumbled backwards too, falling on top of their husbands. All four collapsed on the floor together.
Darsey’s chest heaved and it hurt, but not as much as she expected. It felt like she’d been pushed hard, rather than shot. Arms closed around her and she realized she was lying on her husband.
You kay? he asked and she sent reassurance, but before she could recover enough to stand she was knocked flat again by a bone-thrumming hum. The vibration came from the dais, where a viscous half globe had appeared. Grace’s form seemed to waver and shimmer at the centre of that half bubble.
Darsey staggered upright, pulling Wing after her. She balanced on tip-toe to stare over the dais edge.
“Wha-?” Gull demanded from its floor, and Grace settled beside him with a sigh, kneeling in a puddle of dissolving kres.
“My cane holds a secret it seems your all-knowing Arck was ignorant of. My protection field. I found a way to charge it to level ten plus. You’ll miss your main targets, betrayer.”
Gull’s head still had enough integrity to reply. They know of this place and they’ll come for your brats. I told Lord Raptor all.
“Hmmm,” Grace mused, and leaned lower to whisper in his ear, “Raptor’s a Shadow. He passed on none of your spying.”
A last gurgle came from Gull in response, along with a final frond touch of smug satisfaction. No matter.
Darsey heard it quite clearly and it chilled her. She exchanged anxiety with Wing, but that was all, before she bushed her fronds wide to keep eavesdropping.
Grace’s mind was easy to overhear and its power pushed Darsey back into Wing when the old lady blasted Gull with a desperate query. What else have you done? Her fronds bombarded his until his dying brain could no longer resist.
I’m thorough, old vulture, and your shield is no matter. Inconvenient only... for me. Sad-as though for those you sought to save. This way was... ah... quicker for them. Now their own ship will betray them.
Grace jerked to face Darsey and the old lady’s mind screamed a warning. Darsey turned to run and Wing half-lifted her in a bounding leap. She looked back to see Clear and Free racing behind them, but then the dais exploded.
54
Plan B