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Zenith Dream

Page 9

by F. T. Lukens


  The blush spilling over Asher’s cheeks in the dim light was the most beautiful sight Ren had ever seen. Erden’s sunsets paled in comparison. The view of stars rotating outside a drift window was breathtaking, but nothing in the face of the shy lift of Asher’s mouth.

  “When we get out of here, we are going to have a fight about this—a loud fight—but right now, I’m so happy to see you.”

  Ren smiled, his eyes crinkling. “As I was saying, I’ve missed you. Every bit of you, even the surly part. Now, are you ready to run?”

  “They’ll know it was you. Or they’ll blame Rowan. I can’t leave.”

  Ren shrugged. “Actually, the soldiers didn’t log me in because suddenly their data pads wouldn’t work. And you’re not escaping. You’re going to go missing in all the confusion.”

  Asher raised an eyebrow. “Confusion?”

  Ren smiled. “You don’t think I was stupid enough to come alone, do you?”

  Asher’s brow furrowed. He shook his head; his lips were pulled down at the corners. “Who did you—”

  The explosion cut Asher off with a tremendous boom. The sound deafened them, swallowed the words Asher shouted, and left the world muffled for agonizing seconds. The ground shook violently, tossing Ren to his knees; the packed earthen floor of the prison scraped through the fabric of his trousers. The makeshift building shuddered. The walls threatened collapse from the force of the shockwave. The remaining forcefield wavered, then fell, as the lights cut out.

  Pitched into darkness, Ren had the breath knocked out of his lungs when Asher stumbled and collided with him. Knowing the explosion was imminent didn’t keep Ren from being rattled. His ears hurt and rang. His head pounded as he fell forward on his palms.

  “What the cogs was that?” Asher’s voice sounded squeezed, as if his breath had been surprised out of him.

  “Our cue,” Ren said, overly loud. He shook his head, hoping the fuzz would clear. “Let’s go.” Ren held out his hand in the darkness to what looked like Asher’s outline, and Asher grabbed it with a strong grip. He threaded his fingers through Ren’s and tugged Ren to standing.

  “Follow me.” Asher stepped out of the cell and pulled.

  Together, they ran. Bursting from the building, they found the night sky lit with flames almost as bright as the planet’s sun. Thick smoke plumed and curled and blocked the scant light from the stars and the moon. The combination of flickering flames and smoke bathed the camp in moving and twisting shadows; frightening omen-like shapes danced around them, chased them as they ran, but provided reassuring cover for their escape. Asher skidded to a stop, mouth open, orange fire reflecting in his eyes. Around them, soldiers scrambled to put out the burning generator, trampled over the grass and dirt, yelled orders in panicked voices.

  Ren flipped up his hood and hid his mouth with the back of his sleeve to keep from choking on the smoke and the ash which fell like snow.

  “What did you do?” Asher coughed, mirroring Ren’s pose.

  Ren shrugged. “It wasn’t me. It was a friend. Come on, we need to leave, quickly, and use the diversion they created for us.”

  Asher gave the camp one last, lingering glance: the mayhem as soldiers poured from buildings, officers yelling orders as the flames climbed higher and leapt to another building. The wood framing caught quickly despite the rain as it crackled and warped with the heat.

  Ren didn’t know what Asher saw, other than chaos, but something in his expression told Ren, despite the urgency and their need to run, to allow Asher to have this moment, to allow him to say goodbye.

  “Okay,” Asher said with a nod. “Okay.”

  They ran from the camp to the road. The second explosion hit the generator on the far side of the camp. The concussive force was not as devastating, but Ren staggered as they crossed the road and hid in the ditch beside it.

  Ren’s muscles trembled. He wheezed in the hot air. “We need to get to the rendezvous.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’ve docked the ship here. The Corps logs everything at that spaceport. The Star Stream is too recognizable.”

  “The ship isn’t there. It’s in the jungle. Come on.”

  Ren stood and took Asher’s hand. His palm was damp against Ren’s skin.

  “How did it get there?”

  Ren tugged and stumbled to his knees. The trek through the rain forest and the spent adrenaline from being captured again made him quake with exhaustion. His legs didn’t have the strength to hold him, and his hands shook like leaves in a wind.

  “Ren?”

  “I’m fine. Help me up.”

  Asher pulled Ren to standing, then looped Ren’s arm over his shoulder. “You’ll tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Later. This way.”

  Ren and Asher took a few steps before Ren’s power pinged with the burst of a pulse gun. The hair on his arms stood on end. The electric charge fizzled behind his eyes. “Drop!”

  They fell to their knees, and the blast flew over their heads and smashed into a tree. Splinters rained on them. Ren lurched to his feet and spun to find the guard, who leveled his weapon at Ren.

  “You! Cogging duster. I should’ve known there was something wrong with you! You did this!”

  “I did.”

  Asher stood up behind Ren, and the soldier’s face went nearly purple with rage. He swung his gun arm to focus on Asher. “You are a traitor.”

  The sky opened on a crack of thunder, and a torrent of water unleashed. The rain pounded on their heads and shoulders and turned the ground into treacherous swift-moving puddles. Ren’s boots filled; the muddy runoff from the road was suddenly up to his ankles. In the dark and the heavy rain, only the pulse of electricity from his weapon and the shadowy outline cast from the riot of fire yards away gave Ren an idea of where the soldier stood.

  Asher disengaged from Ren and raised his hands. “Let us go.”

  The soldier laughed, body shaking; the sound bled into the chaos of the camp and the roar of the fire. Ren focused on the weapon; its signature was within his grasp. Ren could stop him if he shot again, but he wasn’t going to risk it.

  “No,” he called out. “You’re both going back. The only question is alive or dead.”

  The weapon charged with a whine, and Ren’s eyes flashed.

  Asher took a step forward, positioning himself between the soldier and Ren. His boots made indents in the mud. The rain flattened his blond hair. His hands were steady, and his voice was low and even when he spoke.

  “It’s not going to hurt anyone if we escape. Let us walk away and disappear. That’s all we want.”

  The guard sneered. “If you think I’m going to let a duster and traitor escape after burning down half the camp then you’re out of your cogging mind. Now, up on the road.”

  They didn’t move. Asher tried again. “Please, understand. This is bigger than this moment. This is bigger than this camp.”

  “I’m not interested in your cause. Quit stalling. There might not be a cell to throw you in, but I’ll find something.” His finger twitched against the trigger, and Ren shuddered with gathering potential.

  They had to leave. And if they left the soldier alive, he’d tell his superiors that Asher ran away with a duster. It wouldn’t take much for the Phoenix Corps to put it together. They’d know Ren was alive. They’d come after the crew. They’d never be free.

  Narrowing his eyes, Ren raised his hand. “I can’t let you stop me. And I can’t let you tell anyone else.”

  Asher whipped his head around, eyes wide. “Ren, no—”

  “What are playing at? You can’t do anything to me.”

  Ren allowed his eyes to go blue. “Corps tech tends to short in the rain.”

  Lines of blue lashed and arced from the pulse gun up the soldier’s arm in a tangle of power. The comm on this uniform burst into flame and sizzled.
The soldier fell to the wet earth, like a puppet with strings cut; twitched once, twice; and then lay still. Smoke wreathed around the body and mingled with the plumes rising from the camp.

  Ren pulled back and settled his star in the center of his chest. He dropped his arm, boneless and weary. Ren hunched forward and slapped his palm over his mouth so his fingertips dug into his skin and hooked against the bones of his jaw. He bit back a scream and a sob, swallowing it into the depths of his self.

  Asher clutched his other hand with force so bruising the bones of Ren’s fingers mashed and ground together.

  “Ren, we should go.”

  Ren nodded, shaky and unsure, and straightened. The edge of his hood lay sodden on his forehead. Rivulets of water ran down Asher’s face. Ren swiped his thumb over Asher’s cheekbone so it smeared mud, and his hand trembled. “Yes, but I….” Ren trailed off. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I had to.”

  “I know.”

  Asher didn’t offer a platitude. Ren didn’t want one. He’d made a choice. He’d make the same choice again.

  “This way.”

  They loped to the thick edge of the rain forest. Ren’s pace was spurred by adrenaline and fear. His actions ran on loop in his head, and he was terrified of running into another Corpsman. He didn’t think he could be responsible for anything else tonight.

  Finally, they pushed into the cover of the jungle along the path Ollie and Lucas had created. Once under the cover of the dense foliage, the scant light created by the fires and explosions dimmed until all Ren could see through the branches was an occasional streak of orange. They stopped and rested. Ren leaned against the slender trunk of a young tree and hoped that nothing crawled or slithered nearby in the impenetrable dark. Only by keeping close and allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, was Ren able to see Asher. The furrow of his brow was unmistakable, as was the set of his shoulders.

  “We’re okay,” Ren said. “We’re okay. We’re okay.”

  “We’re okay.” Asher squeezed Ren’s hand. He didn’t let go. “How did you find me?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “You didn’t put yourself at risk, did you? You didn’t reveal yourself to anyone.”

  Ren sucked down the thick soupy air and pressed a hand to his side. “No. I’m dead.”

  “Good.”

  “Wow, and I thought my relationships were twisted.”

  Ren jumped and whirled on his heel. Darby emerged from a cluster of brush with Ollie right behind her holding a small light.

  Darby pointed at Asher. “Is this him?”

  Asher’s fingers curled tighter around Ren’s hand. Ren brushed his thumb over Asher’s knuckles to soothe him. “Yes, this is him.”

  Darby grinned. “Awesome. Glad you found him.”

  Ren smiled. “Good job with the blowing things up. Were you seen?”

  Darby smiled wider; her teeth flashed white. “It was fun. And no. We set the charges and ran. But I don’t want to stand out here with critters. That big flying thing I saw earlier was terrifying.”

  Shuddering, Ren agreed.

  Ollie snorted. “Rowan should be a little way in with another light.” He brushed past them and grabbed Asher in a fierce one-harmed hug as he passed. “Good to see you, brother.”

  Asher slapped Ollie hard on the back before letting him go.

  Darby followed close on Ollie’s heels. She gave Asher an appraising glance, then knocked her fist into Ren’s shoulder. “Come on. We’re going to need freaky science-magic to get us out of here before those soldier folks figure out where we’ve gone.”

  Asher raised an eyebrow and mouthed “freaky science-magic.” Ren shrugged.

  A bright orb bobbed in the dark where Rowan waited. They followed Ollie and Darby down the trail.

  6

  Rowan grabbed Asher in a hug, and Ren stepped back from the reunion. It only lasted a moment, but the intensity was not lost on the group. Holding a small light to illuminate the path, Rowan ushered the others the rest of the way. The ship waited for them, silent and dark, save for the low hum of the background systems.

  Ren stepped through the bay door, and the ship welcomed him with a warm, familiar sensation. It enveloped him and soothed his frayed nerves. Touching the bulkhead, he closed his eyes and embraced the comfort of the Star Stream’s systems. His clothes dripped onto the deck plate in small puddles, and he shrugged off the sodden cloak. It fell with a plop, and Ren squelched toward the bridge with his toes swimming in his boots.

  Ducking under the arch, Ren entered.

  “Ren,” Lucas said, spinning in his chair. “We got him back?”

  “We got him back,” Ren replied.

  Lucas grinned then turned. He typed in coordinates. “I don’t want to rush you, but there is chatter over all the comm channels. We’ve got locals and Corps and the docking tower all talking. They’re searching for the culprits, you know, us, and it won’t be long before they head into the jungle.”

  “What’s going on?” Asher stepped through the archway, flanked by Rowan and Ollie.

  Lucas stood and leapt at Asher. He wrapped his arms around Asher’s shoulders and patted him on the back. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. But you smell awful. And you’re drenched.”

  Asher smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks. But what’s happening? How are we getting out of here?”

  Rowan brushed passed him and settled in the captain’s chair. “Ren? Are you ready?”

  Ren blew out a breath. He spread his hand on the navigation console. “Catch me when I fall.”

  “Wait, what—”

  Closing his eyes, Ren gathered his power. It bled from him into the ship, and the ship crawled up into his veins. A push-pull of power like a second heartbeat pulsed through him. Static filled his mouth, and sound played behind his eyes, and white and blue and red sounded in his ears. Sparks popped and crackled over his body, and his hair stood on end. Energy amassed in a whirlwind. He willed the ship to bend to the coordinates. His star throbbed under his skin and into the circuits. His body screamed in protest and his knees locked, but it was a secondary concern to the thrumming of the Star Stream and the creak of its engines and the shudder of its hull.

  Time stalled and stretched and stretched until it snapped in one forceful second.

  Ren blinked. He fell backward but was saved from a meeting with the deck by a strong grip. He craned his neck and stared out at a blanket of stars.

  “Did I do it?”

  Lucas checked the coordinates. “Close enough.”

  “Good. I’m… tired.”

  He leaned back into the embrace, and Asher grunted in his ear. “Stay awake,” he said. “At least until I get you to the common room.”

  Ren didn’t remember much of the short journey to the couch. He roused when he heard low voices and found himself laid out with a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body. His boots and socks were a sodden pile on the floor. He wiggled his pruney toes and squinted at the two figures at the table.

  “Are you okay?” Rowan asked, taking Asher’s hand in hers.

  Asher lifted a steaming cup to his mouth and sipped. “I’m fine.”

  “You look like you’ve been hollowed out. And you’re bruised. What happened?”

  “Nothing important.”

  Rowan lifted an eyebrow. “What was the Corps doing on Bara anyway?”

  Asher tapped his fingers along the rim of the cup. “Making inroads. Looking for things. I wasn’t privy to specifics, but I know it has to do with Vos.”

  “Everything has to do with him. Everything goes back to his feud with the Corps.”

  “It’s larger than that, Rowan. It started long before Vos and it’s spread across all the planets. It’s planets versus drifts now.”

  Rowan looked away. “I know. We were on Phoebus
, and Millicent attacked.”

  Asher’s cup shook. “You made it out.”

  “We ran. We had to. Ren wanted to fight, but I wouldn’t let him.”

  “Good. What’s happened here?”

  Rowan sighed. “We’ve picked up another stray. Though this one isn’t staying long. We’re taking her to the nearest drift and dropping her off.”

  “She seems… nice.”

  Rowan snorted. “She’s a handful, but that’s no different than anyone else on this ship.” She smiled softly. “I missed you. I worried for you. I… I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

  Asher’s lips lifted in a smile. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Rowan, we’re going to have to face this. We’re going to be a part of this battle. In one way or another. We can’t hide. We can’t flee. I just hope we end up on the right side.”

  She looked away and tugged her braid. She didn’t respond, indecision was clear in her expression and posture. “What’s the right side, Ash?”

  Asher sipped his drink. “The winning side. That’s the side we’ll be on.”

  _

  Once Ren regained his strength, he dressed in the dry shirt and trousers left for him, then went straight to Asher’s quarters. Asher had left shortly after his conversation with Rowan, claiming the need for a shower, fresh clothes, and a nap. Ren needed the same, but he needed to speak with Asher more.

  He rapped his knuckles against Asher’s doorframe. The door stood slightly open, but Ren didn’t assume he was welcome or wanted. His skin tingled with residual power, and his hair smelled of smoke from the explosions. Humidity and panic sat heavy in his chest, pressing on his lungs. His skin was tacky. He needed a shower and a nap, but the urge to see Asher, to touch him, to breathe the same air, to feel the heat of his body, overrode everything else. The wet fabric brushing against his ankles and the dirt under his fingernails were minor irritants compared to the sudden rending joy of Asher’s presence on the other side of the bulkhead.

  “Ash,” Ren said, his voice a rasp. He waited, his heart pounding with anticipation, as if he hung over a precipice and peered down, down, down into a crevasse.

 

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