by F. T. Lukens
“Aw.” Darby placed her hand over her heart. “You know me so well and only after a few days too.” She shook her head. “But I don’t think I’m sticking with your gang. Assaulting a prison full of career soldiers with magic-wielders as prisoners? No thanks.”
Ren was inexplicably sorrowful at Darby’s words, but it was expected. She’d been caught up in their lives by accident. He couldn’t blame her for going her own way. It seemed to be her nature.
Ollie frowned and turned away from Darby. He focused his attention on Penelope and wrapped his hand around her fingers. “We’ll be all right. We’ll contact you when we’re done. Take care of Rowan.”
“I will.”
Penelope and Ollie hugged. Then Penelope grabbed Asher and Ren in succession and squeezed. Ren winced from the force of her hug. “I’ll see you soon.” She wiped the moisture from her eyes and stepped away.
Lucas’s voice came over the comm. “Pressurization completed. Have fun, you four.”
Darby was the first out of the airlock. Ollie was quick to follow. Asher lingered.
“Are we making the right choice?” Ren shuffled close to Asher’s body. “We could wait until Liam is moved. Trust that he contacts us again. It might be an easier location to—”
Asher clasped Ren’s hand. “It’s taken us this long to know where he is. He’s important to you. He’s obviously important to the Corps. Retrieving him isn’t only serving a purpose for you, but takes away one of the Corps’ ways of finding information. And if he’s there, think of who else might be.”
Ren leaned into Asher’s side. “Rescuing my brother is going to start a war.”
“The war is already started.”
Asher squeezed Ren’s hand then departed the ship. Ren followed, fingers curled tight around the handle of his small bag.
The docking bay’s large outer doors to the drift were closed. A small doorway off to the side was ajar. Asher walked through, hefting his bag higher on his shoulder.
Ren cast a last glance to the ship that he called home in more ways than one. His heart ached. He’d miss the systems and the circuits, and he hoped he’d traverse them again.
With a slump of his shoulders, he went through the door.
It shut behind him, obscuring the Star Stream, and bathing the drift floor in a wash of dim yellow light.
Ren squinted and stopped short.
A group of soldiers in black body armor waited for him. One held a struggling Darby and had guns trained on both Asher and Ollie.
“Welcome to Echo drift,” the tallest one said, stepping forward, resting his weapon on his shoulder. He smirked. “There’s been a change in management.”
8
“Help! Help! I’m being kidnapped! Again!” Darby kicked out with the thick heel of her boot and caught one of the soldiers in his shin. He cried out, dropped his weapon, and grabbed his leg as he hopped up and down. Darby smirked but she wasn’t let go. In fact, her wiggling and fighting made another soldier grab her other side.
Asher zeroed in on the pulse gun, which clattered to the ground, but he couldn’t move before it was swept up by another guard.
“Quit squirming!”
“I’ll stop when you tell me what the stars is going on!”
The four were clad in black with body armor and helmets reminiscent of Vos’s citadel soldiers who had taken Ren from his home. But those soldiers wore scavenged armor and shabby equipment. These guards were polished and equipped with tech that pinged in Ren’s senses with power and capability. Ren didn’t sense any snares or hiccups in their comm system or in the power emanating from their prods and pulse guns. There were no bastardized components or systems holding together by spit and will. Vos had upgraded exponentially.
Standing just on the other side of the large, closed doors that led to the bay of the Star Stream, Ren sensed the lowering of the forcefield barrier. His connection with the ship stretched as it left the hangar, and lessened as the distance between them grew. He bit his lip to hide his distress at the loss of his home. He blinked, and the thread which bound them snapped, and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
Asher nudged him, and Ren shook the turmoil away, packed it down inside, and focused on the situation in front of him.
The drift was dim, but not shut down like Phoebus. Ren looked up to see blank communication boards; the overhead system remained quiet. But the grav and air recyclers hummed. The essential systems ran on minimal power, but all the superfluous ones were shut down, possibly to conserve energy. Ren wasn’t afraid that all the system would fail as he had been on Phoebus. This seemed deliberate. He searched out Millicent’s signature, and, though he caught remnants of her and his stomach churned at the sick caress of her power against his, she wasn’t there now.
The tension that had twisted his insides slowly eased. He was still standing at pulse-gun point, but soldiers were easy compared to her.
Ren glanced at Asher and found him staring down the small group with his gaze laser-focused on their weapons. Asher narrowed his eyes, assessing, and his hand drifted over to Ren. He placed his palm on Ren’s forearm and shook his head slightly. Ren took that as a signal to wait and not reveal himself. He hadn’t planned to, not without knowing more information, but Asher’s agreement was a reassurance.
“Who is the new management?” Asher asked, voice calm.
Asher’s voice startled the soldiers, and their weapons snapped up. “Hands up where we can see them!”
Ren dropped his bag at his feet and reluctantly raised his hands as did Asher and Ollie.
“No problem.” Asher pointed to Darby. “Please release our friend.”
The leader was taller than the others. His words exuded confidence, but his body language lacked the marks of a career soldier. He didn’t hold himself like Asher. He didn’t move like Asher. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
“We’re only holding her because she tried to run as soon as she saw us.”
Ollie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Everyone has to be processed when they enter the drift. We’ll release her if she promises to stay with you.”
“She does,” Asher said, cutting Darby off. He glared at her, and she snapped her mouth shut. She shook her head so black and purple hair sprayed over her forehead and cheeks.
“Fine!”
They dropped her, and she scuttled across the small gap between the groups. She situated herself slightly behind Ollie and next to Ren’s shoulder.
“Now,” Asher said, hands still raised, “answer my question. Who is the new management? Who do you represent?”
“We represent the planets under the divine guidance of our leader, Millicent, Mistress of the Stars.”
Shock hit Ren full-force. He staggered back. “What the coggin’ what? Millicent?”
The soldier who previously held Darby lit up at her name. “Do you know her? Isn’t she amazing? She took over this whole drift in seconds.”
Another spoke up, grin wide under his face shield. “She touched my arm once.”
Ren gaped, mouth working uselessly. Not only had Millicent somehow supplanted Vos, but her soldiers were… groupies.
Asher asked. “How long was I gone?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been asleep.”
“Hey, stop talking.” The leader jabbed his prod under Ren’s ribs, dangerously close to his wound.
Ren recoiled, and Darby stepped in front of him. “Hey, don’t be a cog. We’re not resisting.” She sighed, then amended. “Anymore. Not resisting anymore. We’re not going to resist. Okay?”
Ren inhaled shakily. The prod brought up memories of his capture, of watching Jakob killed by Vos’s trained army. The poke was too close for comfort to his wound. And Millicent’s name carried its own weighty connotations of fear and manipulation. Panic hovered close, but Re
n steeled himself, gritted his teeth, and took a few deep breaths. He ducked his head into the collar of the jacket he wore, but even with its familiar smell and fabric, he shivered, and his skin went clammy. He had Asher with him and Ollie, and, despite her questionable allegiance, Darby was there too. He’d be okay. He’d be okay. He’d be okay.
The soldier shifted and dropped the tip of the prod. “All new visitors to all of our leader’s empire must be processed. Those are the rules.”
Asher stiffened. “What do you mean processed? Who are you looking for?”
“Phoenix Corps, mostly, and any known traitors to the cause.”
The leader elbowed the speaker. “They don’t need to know that. Only the basics to civilians, remember?”
The soldier bowed his head, effectively cowed.
Ren and Asher shared an incredulous glance.
“Is there anyone else on your ship? The registry was blocked when you docked.”
“A pilot,” Asher confirmed. “But he already left. He shuttled us from Phoebus.”
The leader nodded. “Good. Phoebus was the first of the leader’s new empire. You will be familiar with the new protocols on Echo as well.”
“Right. See, we’ve already been processed on Phoebus. So, we shouldn’t have to do it again.” Darby smiled, bright and wide.
“Do you have your badges?”
“Oh, we left them on the ship. I didn’t think we’d need them here.”
“Too bad. But if you passed last time, then no worries here.”
Darby mouthed an expletive.
The comm on the leader’s shoulder crackled. “We have another ship docking in bay seven, slip two. No one has disembarked yet, but ship has three registered passengers that will need to be processed.”
The leader responded. “Send Bravo Team to the slip. We’re bringing four to the processing center right now.”
He nonchalantly rested the tip of his prod on Ren’s sternum. His finger slipped close to the trigger. Ren’s whole body tensed; power automatically surged in his middle. He trembled and resisted the impulse to cut the power or to turn the weapon against the soldier.
The voice came back over the comm. “Acknowledged.”
“Come along then,” he said to the group. “No more stalling.”
The end of the weapon slid down Ren’s body, caught on his shirt, then dropped away. Ren let out a stuttered breath.
Millicent’s army moved with surprising precision as two took the lead in front of Ren and the other two swooped behind them. With a pulse gun at his back, Ren stumbled forward. Asher caught his arm, steadied him, gripped tight; his mouth was pulled down. Ren shook his head and straightened. His stomach roiled. His heart pounded. His throat tightened. But he held on, took Asher’s hand in his and squeezed back, taking comfort in the sensation, grounding himself with physical contact. It helped.
The soldiers marched them through the drift. Asher stayed close to Ren’s side. Darby and Ollie closed in around him as they navigated the corridors and passageways.
Clustered together, Ren dipped his head. “Do any of you have a plan?”
“Not yet,” Asher said through gritted teeth. His jaw clenched. His gaze darted around the drift, taking everything in. The corridors they walked were empty save for soldiers. The vibrancy usually found on drifts had been either snuffed out or regulated to certain areas.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Ren said. “You’re a birdman. They’re going to figure that out.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re a traitor to their leader’s cause. So yeah, we’re cogging crunched.”
Darby tripped forward and caught her balance on Asher’s shoulder. “What are we going to do?” she whispered quickly.
“We?” Ren asked. “I thought you weren’t sticking with us?”
“Better with you and freaky science-magic that I trust than freaky science-magic from a person I’ve not met. Worse yet, a person who you seem scared of. And that scares me.”
“She doesn’t scare me,” Ren muttered. “She concerns me.”
“She’s terrifying,” Asher said. “She literally cares about no one other than herself. And I want to know what happened to Vos. He might not be the leader, but he’s still around I’m sure.”
“Without Abiathar to control her…” Ren trailed off. That was it. Without someone who could control her, she’d broken the hold Vos had over her. She’d gone rogue. She had deposed Vos and taken over his army for herself and turned them into zealots following a higher power. Vos wasn’t behind Phoebus or Echo. It was Millicent.
“If she ditched him,” Ollie said, “what if he could be persuaded to our side?”
“I wouldn’t trust him at all.”
“No. I wouldn’t either. But he’s not evil. He’s misguided, yes, and grandiose. But he had a goal and a purpose. Millicent has neither.” Asher glanced around. The guards weren’t paying them any attention. “If she’s building an empire without him, what would be the last thing she’d want?”
Ren perked up. “The prisoners from Perilous Space released. Not only is Abiathar there, and he could regain control over her, but there might be someone else there who could challenge her.”
“Also, you,” Asher said, gripping Ren’s hand. “With you gone, she’s pretty much invincible. And if you’re processed here, and she finds out…”
“I’m dead. Again.”
“Cut the power,” Darby said. “Then we can run. Or you take over the drift. You can do that, can’t you?”
Ren winced. “I could, but…”
“Millicent makes Ren sick.” Ollie coughed into his fist when one of the guards looked back.
“What do you mean sick?”
Ren crinkled his nose. “Her power affects me physically. It’s… not good.”
“Great.”
The group stopped in front of a lift and waited. The conversation was suspended for the time being. They crowded in and went up several floors in tense silence.
The energy and the signatures of the weapons thudded under Ren’s skin. He could disable them. Then they could run. To where? Rowan was already gone. All the docks were monitored. And surely Millicent had planted traps in the systems. She could incapacitate him, and then where would they be?
Wrapping his arms around his middle, Ren bent forward at the thought of the way Millicent could pull him in and push him out and how it affected his body.
“Hey.” The leader pushed his prod into Ren’s shoulder. “Is he okay? He looks sick.”
Asher draped his arm over Ren’s shoulders. “He’s fine.”
“He doesn’t look it.”
“What happened to the Corps on this drift?” Asher changed the subject away from Ren. He tilted his head and eyed their weapons. “I don’t expect they gave up the drift willingly.”
“Some did,” he answered with a shrug. “When they saw what our divine leader could do with a blink of her beautiful, glowing eyes, they laid down their weapons. Those that didn’t were vented.”
Asher’s expression didn’t betray him, but he his grip on Ren’s shoulders tightened.
They were spared any further conversation when the bell dinged and the doors opened. They shuffled out, and Ren received a push in the back when he didn’t move fast enough. He stumbled into Darby and apologized.
They approached the processing center. A large black drape flapped over the Phoenix Corps symbol that blazed from the top of the entrance. The red phoenix rising from ashes with wings spread shone through the thin fabric despite the attempt to hide it, and its imposing figure burned across the whole floor. Orange and red symbolic flames rose and curled on either side of the archway. Ren was reminded of the fire that lit the sky on Bara as they fled the Phoenix Corps encampment.
“I could do it.” Ren fluttered his eyes shut. “I could do it. Shut it
all down and take over.”
“You’re not. We’ll just have to escape without…” Asher rolled his eyes upward. “…using freaky science-magic.”
Ollie snickered.
Darby looked around the area. She spied something and her frown bloomed into a crooked smirk. Her dark eyes lit up. “I got this, fellas. Leave it to me.”
“Four for processing,” the leader said to a woman at a large reception desk. She wore matching body armor but no helmet. Her dark hair was in a messy knot at the top of her head, and her nails clicked on the equipment as she typed. Dark makeup lined her eyes, and two bright violet circles colored her cheeks. She scanned the leader’s data pad with a wand and huffed as she spun in her chair and hovered to a data screen.
The leader pointed his weapon toward a row of seats in a waiting area and addressed the group. “Wait over there.”
Asher raised an eyebrow, but they walked over, his arm still draped across Ren’s shoulders.
“Got that plan yet?” he asked Darby.
Darby grinned. “Oh, yeah.” She lifted her chin at the guard-acting-receptionist. “That one is the mark.”
“Why that one?”
“For as dim as the ones who picked us up on the dock are, the ones left behind are always dimmer.”
“You’ll bet our lives on that?”
Darby winked, dark eyes sparkling. “Who do you think I am, birdman?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well,” she flipped her chin-length hair. “Your loss.”
Darby waited until the group who’d arrested them left. She looked around the area until her gaze settled on the guard waiting at the entrance. That one held a pulse gun and leaned against the doorway with his ankles crossed. She pursed her lips and stood.
With a saunter of her hips and an arch of her back, she approached the desk. The receptionist narrowed her eyes. “Hey, don’t come any closer.”
Darby frowned but stopped. “Seriously?”