The Gauntlet

by Megan Shepherd

  Nok twisted her pink strand of hair, trying to guess what Keena would do in this situation. “Well, you can stay as long as you’d like, though we don’t exactly have overflowing resources. We’ll do what we can to heal your wounded and keep you fed until your people can come rescue you, once the war is over.”

  Makayla and the Gatherer exchanged a long look.

  “It isn’t that simple,” Makayla said. “We didn’t come here because we thought it would be safe. We came here to regroup, and also to warn you.” She paused. “The Axion are headed this way next.”

  Dane’s eyes flashed with surprise. Rolf jumped up, taking quick strides to the window to peer at the skies.

  “Here?” Nok sputtered. “Why? We have no argument with the Axion!”

  “They have an argument with you,” Makayla said. “They’ve heard rumors there are evolved humans here who could be a threat.”

  Nok cursed under her breath. “We aren’t ready for a battle with the Axion! Rolf has worked up plans for defensive fortifications to the town, but we haven’t even started construction, and it would take months. For the present, we’re barely keeping ourselves alive here.” She spun around to face the towering Brother Paddal. “What about your ships? Don’t you have weapons?”

  “A few, yes,” the Gatherer explained in a droning voice. “We have forty ships between my vessel, the Kindred shuttles, and the Mosca ones. Twenty-two have functioning weapons, though most are badly damaged, and we are low on fuel.”

  Nok jerked her head toward Loren. “Loren can show you where we keep our fuel reserves, though we’re low too.” She paced in front of the windows, twisting even more anxiously at her hair. “Who knows how many Axion are coming, and how good their weapons are. Twenty-two ships might not be enough to stop them.” She let out a frustrated sigh, squeezing the bridge of her nose between two fingers.

  Dane cleared his throat. “There’s another option.”

  All eyes turned to him. Nok narrowed hers, having a feeling she wouldn’t like whatever he was going to suggest.

  “The Axion have ships, and weapons, and superior technology,” he said. “And who knows what other kinds of tech they’ve developed over the last few decades that they’ve kept secret from the world. We don’t stand a chance against them if we try to fight.” He paused. “But maybe we could survive if we joined them.”

  Nok and Makayla both jumped up.

  “No way!” Makayla said.

  “Are you insane?” Nok asked at the same time.

  “Hardly,” he snapped at them both. “If the Axion are as smart as you say they are, then they must know that it could be beneficial to have loyal humans on their side. I’m not saying I’m happy about it—I know you all think I’m a monster, but I’m not. I’m only suggesting it as a last resort. To keep us alive. And which is more important to you, Sheriff? Having brave dead citizens, or living cowardly ones?”

  Seething, Nok shook her head. “We aren’t siding with the Axion. That’s final.” She squeezed the sheriff’s badge. The edges pressed sharply into her palm, setting her senses on alert. Sweat started to break out on her brow. She felt as though all eyes were on her, waiting for her to come up with some brilliant plan to save them. She tried to think of what Keena would say, but she hadn’t even known Keena that long.

  She turned to the window, the sunlight glaring like a camera flash, and her thoughts scrolled back to her life in London. Her first week there, when she’d been only fourteen. Miss Delphine standing behind a camera, chewing that saccharine red licorice, ordering Nok how to pose. No, no! You look like you’ve just crawled out of the jungle, girl.

  Nok had blinked. But Chiang Mai is in the jungle.

  Miss Delphine had rolled her eyes, muttering, Listen, girl. I’m going to tell you the one piece of advice that will get you through any shoot. “Fake it till you make it.” Got it? You aren’t some scrappy kid from a backwater Thai town anymore. You’re the goddamn Queen of Sheba, if you want to be. Fake it. Make me believe.

  Nok blinked out of her memories of the past.

  If she could fake being a sultry model for all that time in London, then she could fake anything. Fake being confident. Fake being a sheriff. Fake not being terrified. She pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling her child growing. It wouldn’t be long now. What kind of world would Sparrow be born into? Would she see her mother as a scrawny, flighty girl who shirked her responsibilities? Or would she see her as someone brave?

  She let the sheriff’s badge rest on her chest and took a deep breath. “We’ll send all the elderly citizens and the wounded to take cover in the root mine. Rolf, you can start taking loads of people there in one of the trucks. The rest of us will take up arms in the tent encampment. We’ll leave this empty town as a decoy, hoping the Axion strike it first.”

  “There may be another problem.” Brother Paddal unfolded his long, spindly fingers, pointing to the map that Rolf had unrolled on his desk. He pointed to the town, then slid his forefinger to the transport hub. He tapped it. “This moon contains a Kindred transport hub that is powered by an Axion reactor core. It allows for all the satellite tracking and communication with the Kindred stations.”

  “We know,” Rolf said. “I’ve been looking into ways to harness the power to give us electricity here in town.”

  Brother Paddal nodded solemnly. “It is cloaked from outside radar, so it cannot be detected from above—it reads only as a standard warehouse. I did not know it was here myself until after I had landed. But you see, the reactor is highly volatile. One targeted laser pulse, and this entire area becomes a smoldering crater.”

  “What do you mean?” Nok demanded.

  “If an Axion laser pulse hits that reactor core in the right place, all life on this moon would be dead. Instantly.”

  Nok’s face went white.

  “There is a way,” Brother Paddal continued, “to manually shut off the core from inside the facility. Power it down, and there is no danger if it is hit.”

  “Yeah,” Rolf said, “but I’ve studied the blueprints. Anyone who goes inside far enough to shut it off manually would die of radiation exposure.”

  Brother Paddal cleared his throat. “That is a problem, yes.”

  Nok cursed under her breath and leaned over the counter, letting her hair curtain her face. “No one’s dying of radiation exposure, got it?” She looked up at the Gatherer. “You said it’s untraceable from the skies. And that’s how the Axion will attack, from above. To them it’ll look like a plain warehouse. They have no reason to target it any more than the other tents and buildings.”

  “Yeah,” Makayla added, “but it’s still dangerous. A stray laser pulse, or if they just attack it by chance . . .”

  Dane muttered, “We’re all going to die.”

  Nok spun on him with a clenched jaw. “We’re not going to die. We just have to keep them away from that reactor core. We’ll distract them on the ground, leading them here toward the empty town, while Brother Paddal and the other pilots attack from the sky.”

  For a moment, everyone was quiet. Dane didn’t look happy, but he didn’t grumble aloud again.

  “It’s a good plan,” Rolf said at last. His gaze met Nok’s, full of confidence in her. He nodded. “Really good, Nok.”

  She flushed with relief, toying with the sheriff’s badge.

  It was true that Nok had no particular love for the dusty moon, but she had hope for what it could be, with all the improvements Rolf planned on making and with the community they were starting to build. A safe haven for Sparrow.

  A home.

  She looked back down at the badge. Her own eyes reflected back.

  Sparrow kicked.

  Maybe Nok was never meant to be a sheriff, but for her unborn child, she would fake being anything. And for a second—the slightest moment—she wasn’t even sure she was faking being strong anymore.

  “Let’s get moving,” she said.

  29

  Cora

  FIAN DI
DN’T RELEASE CORA’S hand. He scowled down at her in a way that made the wrinkle on his forehead even deeper.

  “Let the record state,” one of the Gatherers announced, “the competitor has completed round one and is now entitled to a break for medical attention and rest.”

  Fian still didn’t let go of her hand. She jerked upright, tugging against him. Behind him were the Axion delegation, the Gatherers, and all four Chief Assessors, but where was Cassian? Mali? Anya and the others?

  Fian leaned forward, squeezing Cora’s hand tightly enough to cause pain to radiate in her bones. “Only four puzzles in,” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “And you look ready to give up already.”

  “I’ll beat anything the stock algorithm throws at me,” she seethed, ripping her hand out of his.

  His eyes narrowed, but then footsteps came from the hallway. Mali appeared first, followed by Leon. They caught sight of her and raced forward.

  “We heard the announcement!” Mali’s eyes searched the dried blood around Cora’s nose with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” Cora threw Fian a defiant look. But she stumbled as soon as she took a step, and Fian smirked.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Leon said, lifting her in his arms. “You can rest in the Mosca’s recess room. We have water and food and”—he dropped his voice as he carried her—“plenty to tell you. A lot has happened while you’ve been in there.”

  Mali held the door open for them, and Leon carried her into a small room packed with wonderfully familiar faces: Anya, Willa, Bonebreak and Ironmage, several Mosca aides—and Cassian.

  Cora’s breath hitched in her throat.

  He’s okay.

  He was standing upright, one hand knitting against his forehead as though his head pained him. When their eyes met, his hand fell. All she could think about was how she’d left him behind on the aggregate station. How she’d heard his screams as he was tortured, how all that pain had been to cover up her crimes.

  Leon set her down, and then Cassian took a step forward. Hesitantly. Did he hate her? Blame her? But then he took another, and then he was across the room, and she was in his arms, and she never wanted to let him go. She held him as tightly as she dared, afraid of the scars, afraid of hurting him more.

  “You’re okay,” Cora whispered.

  He had changed out of the bloodstained Warden’s uniform she’d last seen him in. The soft black clothes he wore now smelled of smoke and the ozone scent of the aggregate station, but beneath it was the tang of metal that made her think of the interrogation table.

  “Yes,” he said haltingly. “Thanks . . . thanks to Leon and Mali.”

  Cora knit her fingers in the folds of his clothes. Her finger grazed a cut on the side of his neck. “I watched the Kindred torturing you. They were going to kill you. God, Cassian, I’m so sorry. I blame myself for leaving you there.” She swallowed, pulling back slightly. “What did they do to you?”

  That pain flashed in his eyes again. He looked away, almost like closing a door between them. “Standard interrogation.” His voice was suddenly formal, a little forced. From the way his jaw flexed, she knew it must have been anything but standard. “I wasn’t strong enough to resist the mind probes. The Council learned about the Fifth of Five. Now it’s war on the station.”

  Her eyes searched his. What wasn’t he saying?

  “War?” Her lips parted. “The Fifth of Five must be hugely outnumbered.”

  “Tessela is using the kill-dart guns. They have a chance.” He gently tugged a pine needle from her tangled hair.

  She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.

  “Um, before the make-out session starts,” Leon said, and Cora jolted alert, “maybe we should talk about this whole Axion-taking-over-the-world thing.” He pointed to a clock above the recess room door. A sliver of the round face was green, the hand ticking down. “This break only lasts ten minutes.”

  Cora took a step back from Cassian, suddenly aware of a dozen sets of eyes watching her. She cleared her throat, combing her fingers through her hair. She glanced at the clock.

  Ten minutes wasn’t a lot of time.

  “The Axion?” she said. “What are you talking about?”

  Cassian explained the Axion’s ability to disguise themselves, how they had been impersonating Arrowal and Fian and others, and how the battle on the station was actually an Axion attack, part of a wider war in which Axion were assaulting other planets simultaneously. Suddenly her mind ached, and she sank onto a bench, clutching the sides of her skull.

  “Are you okay?” Cassian asked, touching her shoulder.

  “It’s just all so much to take in at once. And . . . I think I strained my mind too hard,” Cora said. “In the perceptive puzzle. Tore something . . . I can’t remember certain things.” Wincing, she looked around the room until she met Anya’s eyes. The small girl was standing alone by the recess room door, fingers now calm at her sides.

  “I did what you told me to, Anya,” Cora said. “Something went wrong.”

  “But did it work?” Anya asked quickly.

  “What?” Cora rubbed the sides of her head. “Well, yeah. I was able to stop a bullet in midair and redirect it. I’ve never done anything like that before. But the pain, and my memories—”

  “That will pass,” Anya answered. “I bet your arms and legs are sore too, right? They’ll recover, and so will your mind.”

  Cassian was watching Anya with an unreadable expression. “You told her to strain her mind? That is dangerous—”

  A knock came at the door, interrupting him.

  Everyone went quiet.

  “Open it,” Cora said, and Leon, standing closest to the door, did.

  Serassi stood on the other side.

  Cora instantly dropped her arms to her sides. “What do you want?”

  The Kindred Chief Genetics Officer’s black gaze went to each of them in turn, taking in the crowded room full of Mosca and humans and a chimpanzee. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “I am not an Axion, if that is what you are wondering.”

  Cora shot up from the bench, alarm blazing. “How do you know about the impostors, unless you are one?”

  Serassi blinked calmly with her black eyes like oily puddles. There was no kindness in her gaze. No glimmer of friendship.

  But then again, there never had been.

  “Am one? No, not at all.” Serassi lowered her head slowly, closing her eyes. Her whole body hardened in concentration, a look Cora recognized as a Kindred going through the uncloaking process. After a few seconds, Serassi looked up with uncloaked eyes. Her irises were visible: brown with faint flecks of blue.

  Cora regarded her warily.

  “The Axion have learned how to turn off the frequency that gives away their disguises,” Serassi said. “They intend to reinstate their status as the original intelligent species, not by breaking from the others, but by dominating them. Beginning with the Kindred.”

  Cora glanced at Cassian. “We already know that.”

  Serassi did not blink. She merely fixed her steady gaze on Cora. “But do you know how to stop them?”

  Cora’s heart thundered in her chest. “Do you?”

  Serassi nodded.

  “We cannot trust this woman!” Bonebreak cried. “The uncloaking proves nothing. How do we know she is not a decoy they’ve sent?” He sniffed the air as though he could tell her true nature through scent alone.

  Cora turned to Serassi. “Bonebreak’s right. Rolf and Nok told me about what you did to them. Locked them up in that dollhouse experiment. Forced them to act out human life. Threatened to take their baby. We’d be crazy to trust you.”

  “The dollhouse experiment, as you call it,” Serassi said flatly, “was crucial for me to collect necessary DNA samples. I needed a full range of human emotions and strengths, including those of child rearing, for my plan to be successful.”

  Cora paced, hoping the movement would distract her from the ache in her h
ead. “How could the dollhouse have anything to do with defeating the Axion?”

  “Quite a bit, in fact. Their ability to disguise themselves is why I was forced to be so secretive in my efforts. As Chief Genetics Officer, I had the full genetics laboratory equipment at my disposal, but I had to devise an explanation for why I was using such sensitive equipment: that was when I invented the idea of the dollhouse experiment. I convinced the other Kindred scientists that I was obsessed with child raising. Such a ridiculous interest made them think less of me, so no one looked too carefully into my work as I gathered DNA samples from a wide range of humans—thousands in all, from the enclosure wards, the menageries, the humans in processing on their way to Armstrong—in an effort to create the one thing that can stop the Axion.” She held up a small syringe. “This.”

  Almost in unison, everyone in the room took a step backward.

  “What is that?” Cora asked hesitantly.

  “For generations, Kindred medical officers have collected DNA samples as part of routine processing before sending humans to Armstrong. When I realized what the Axion were planning, I suspected that it was possible to bind that DNA to other humans using a procedure normally used for healing extreme injuries. I began covertly collecting more DNA from select humans with a wide range of abilities. The serum in this syringe holds the best of humanity’s intelligence, strength, and moral fiber. It contains a protein that can bond this human DNA to another human’s DNA chain.”

  Cora’s eyes widened. She didn’t know much about biology and genetics, but from what Serassi was saying, it seemed she’d done the impossible. “You mean that all of humanity’s strengths are in that one vial? An entire race’s knowledge and abilities?”

  Serassi held it up. “I call it a ‘paragon burst.’”

  Cora eyed the syringe cautiously.

  “I’ll need to inject it directly into your bloodstream,” Serassi continued.

  Cora turned away, pacing. “What do you think?” she asked Cassian quietly.

  He rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder, easing the tension there. “You have passed the easiest of the puzzles, but not without cost. They have ruptured your mind and exhausted your body. The probability that you can pass even the next round, let alone the final one, is dangerously low.”