Zenith Dream

by F. T. Lukens

  Ren rolled his shoulders. “The star hosts in the debris are going to hover nearby until we’re ready to depart. And they’ll continue to cover us.”

  “Okay, Ren, send the announcement.”

  Ren took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He focused past the hull of the Star Stream, and reached out until he met the circuits of the prison. He trickled in and stopped abruptly. A large barrier loomed in front of him. It was a wall of static and code, built upon more static and lines and bricks of programming. He poked it tentatively, and electricity bloomed out in a webbed pattern encompassing the whole of the system. Unperturbed, Ren pushed slightly harder. It resisted, and the code thickened and spread farther and wider so that it was difficult for Ren to find a way around. It was a deterrent, a way to keep the technopaths housed at the prison from taking over.

  Face scrunched, Ren pushed against the wall, and it repelled him, sent him scurrying back into his body. He gasped and took a step back and fell into Asher.

  “It’s blocked.”

  “What do you mean?” Asher asked, gripping Ren by the biceps. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine but… it’s going to take me a minute. There’s a…. wall.”

  Rowan arched an eyebrow. “A wall? Of what?”

  “Code and… I’m sure there are going to be traps and snares once I get through that. I… should’ve known. It’s meant to hold star hosts and that means technopaths too.”

  Rowan and Asher exchanged a glance. “We should pull back,” Asher said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “No! I’ve got it.” I need help.

  What’s wrong, little one?

  There’s a wall and traps. I might not be able to get through.

  Burn, Ren. Burn as we showed you. Focus on your strongest emotions and overwhelm.

  “Ren?” Asher’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck. His thumb ran over the straining tendon. “What’s the plan?”

  “One more try. That’s all I need.”

  “Hurry. We don’t have much time to sit out here.”

  Ren dove back into Perilous Space. He encountered the wall and stopped. Gathering his power in his chest, he concentrated on his fear, and his hope, and his desire for peace. His power welled within him, and he burned.

  He’d always associated his power with blue. His vision would go blue. His eyes, he was told, would glow blue. The sparks and webs of electricity would tangle in blue lines and drip like water from his body in blue drops. The hottest stars radiated blue, but he already bathed in blue. As he drew power to him, coaxed energy from the generators and from his core, he burned darkly.

  Blue deepened to violet, then black consumed him and wrapped around his virtual self. His back arched, and his fists clenched. Ren pushed through the barrier, and it burst in a shower of sparkles of red and orange and purple like fireworks booming against the darkness of the sky. Ren broke through the barrier; code scattered like leaves on the wind. He raced into the wires, scorched out of snares and traps, and left a trail of shadow behind him.

  He sorted through the active systems. Information pounded at him from all sides, and tricks and catches awaited him. There were codes and blocks to sweep aside and break through. He slid into the communication system and found the mechanisms he needed. Using the prison’s normal computer alarm system, Ren sent claxons blaring and bathed the prison is flashing red lights.

  “Forcefield failure. Imminent pressure loss. All personnel seek emergency shelter on level five.”

  Pleased, Ren set the message on repeat, then returned, retreating in waves. He checked the vid feeds. Corps guards and officers headed to the top floor scrambling for the lifts and stairs.

  Secure in his body, he grinned at the others. His vision was shadowed. “Message delivered. Everyone is fleeing from the imminent forcefield failure.”

  “You are entirely too pleased with yourself,” Darby said. She knocked his shoulder. “I like it.”

  “Did you hear that, Lucas? The dock should be deserted. Take us in.”

  “I hear you, and we are almost there. Okay, Ren, can you get that forcefield down?”

  Ren checked the security cameras and confirmed that the dock was deserted. He sensed the field at the forefront of his star sense. He powered it down, and Lucas slid the ship into the empty slip with precision. As soon as they passed the threshold, Ren flipped the field back on.

  “Pressurization achieved. Good luck.”

  Asher nodded to the group. “Let’s go. Darby, stay behind Rowan and Ollie. Ren, you’re with me. Liam is priority. Anyone else is a bonus. Understood?”

  They nodded. “Good. Anything weird, head back to the ship.”

  Asher yanked the door open. They slid out, one by one. Asher, Ollie, and Rowan had their weapons drawn and ready. “This way.” Asher gestured, following the blueprint Ren had downloaded.

  Ren’s message bleated overhead. He resisted the urge to silence it because that would be suspicious. He tugged his hood closer, though the fabric did nothing to block the noise.

  “How’s it looking?”

  Ren checked the feeds. Everyone had evacuated to the top floor. There were several people in a single, large room. “They’re all on the top floor. All of them.”

  “Are they locked in?”

  Ren cocked his head. “No. There is something going on. Other than us. They… they have someone up there. They have… someone important.”

  “Millicent?”

  Ren shook his head. “No.” Peering through the security channels, Ren saw the familiar form of the man who left him to bleed on Crei. He saw the man who had taunted him in a hologram in the citadel. He saw the man responsible for setting all the wheels in motion. “They have Vos.”

  “Vos? That’s why VanMeerten was so smug. She thought she had the leader.”

  Ollie shouldered close. “What’s the plan now?”

  “The same. Find Liam. We can leave Vos to rot. Ren.”

  Ren snapped his head toward Asher, his vision no longer blue but a mixture of shadow and light. “Yes?”

  “Lock them in.”

  Ren flashed like a crack of lightning from the sky and sizzled through the circuits. Finding the locks, he took satisfaction in engaging them all. The doors that were open swung closed, and the bolts slid home. He singed the relays and the protectors. No one would be able to undo what he’d done, unless they were a technopath.

  “Done,” Ren said, his voice monotone.

  “Ren? What’s a man who knows everything but admits he knows nothing?”

  “A paradox,” Ren answered. “Don’t worry, Ash. I’m here.”

  “Your eyes are black. But you’re right. I’ll be worried later. Where’s Liam?”

  Ren was searching through the information, sorting through files, looking for his brother’s name or his power. He flipped through code and tossed lines aside, until only notes on Liam and his missions remained. While looking for his location, Ren sent the pertinent information to the Star Stream through the tenuous connection the ship shared with the prison.

  “We need to go up. Second floor, third door on the left. Nadie is next to him. Abiathar is down the hall. There are others as well. Several others. I can’t open the doors. They’re not on the system. They’re not electronic locks.”

  Asher placed his hand on Ren’s arm. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. But we need to hurry.” Asher ushered them to the stairs. “Do you have the comms?”

  Ren nodded. He held out his palm, and energy dripped from the whirlpool of power in his hand. “Right here.”

  Asher inched closer; his breath seared the skin of Ren’s fingers. “You’re hot and scary at the same time. We’ll talk more about this later.”

  Ren blushed and shrugged. Taking control of the communications, he fed everything to the physical comms they all carried. The
y’d all be able to hear what was said through the prison’s communication system. Right now, the channel was silent.

  Asher pushed open the door to the stairwell and, with pulse gun raised, he peeked around the frame. He waved them all in, and the door closed behind them, leaving them in relative darkness. Ren switched on the lights with a blink, keeping them dim. Crouching, Asher lead the group up the stairs. They didn’t meet another soul, and, on the first-floor landing, Asher paused.

  “Ren, can you lock this door?”

  Pushing past the webs of code that wanted to ensnare him, Ren engaged the automatic lock.

  “Done.”

  “Good.” Asher relaxed. “Darby and Rowan will stay here and guard our exit. With no one at the dock and with this door locked, the only attack will come from above. Stay on the comms, and let us know if you hear anything.”

  Rowan swept her braid from her shoulder. “I’m not staying behind.”

  “You’re not,” Asher agreed. “You’re protecting our exit. And you have Darby with you in case we need any kind of fancy explosion to aid in our escape.”

  Darby rubbed her knuckles on her shirt. “You know me so well.”

  “And if we get pinched, you can come save us,” Ollie said, with a sly smile.

  “Fine,” Rowan said. “But I’m not happy about it.”

  “You never are,” Asher muttered. He looked at Ollie and Ren. “Ready?”

  The three of them crept up the second set of stairs. Ren kept one part of himself in the prison systems and the other alert in his body. Spread thin, he had less control over his anxiety, and his blood pounded. Panic crawled in his veins but did not take root, not yet. He remembered he needed to breathe, evenly and deeply, to keep everything under control, but his exhalations were staccato, as his concentration focused on not hitting a trap in the system.

  “Second floor,” Asher whispered. “There will be a long hallway and then a cross corridor. Ollie, you’ll hide around that corner and protect our flank and our way back out.”

  “Got it, Ash.”

  “Ren, you’ll get Liam.”

  Ren closed his eyes. Something was going on. Something… a warning pinged in his chest. The locks! Ren raced to the top floor but the locks he’d previously engaged were now encased in code. They were open.

  “Ren?” Asher said forcefully. “Everything okay?”

  Ren bit his tongue. “Yeah, but we need to hurry. Something is weird upstairs.”

  Asher read the lie in Ren’s face, but didn’t call him out. He shook his head and frowning. Instead of pushing the door open slightly, Asher kicked it open with force. The door swung outward so hard it hit the inner wall.

  Asher and Ollie jumped out, back-to-back, weapons raised. But there was no one. No exchange of fire. They moved silently, and Ren followed Asher down the corridor. Ollie broke off as Asher had instructed.

  After a few feet, Ren counted one door. Then two. Then three—

  “This one,” Ren said. “This one. This is it.” He peered through the small window blocked by a shaky forcefield but couldn’t see through the static with his human eyes. He pressed his palm flat next to the door and concentrated. He looked, but there was no electronic mechanism on the door, and, parsing through the circuits and systems, he could find no power source. He powered down the forcefield, but he couldn’t open the door. No, no, no! They were so close. His brother should be in there. Liam was in there.

  He snapped back into his body. “Ash,” he said, his voice desperate, twisting Asher’s name into a plea. Excitement and panic made him tremble, and he touched the door. He tugged on the handle; his palm was slick with sweat, and his fingers trembled. “I can’t open it. I can’t.”

  Asher waved to Ollie and kept his pulse gun raised as Ollie crossed from the last intersection to where they stood. Asher covered his movement.

  “Ren, calm down. Ollie, it looks like the lock is manual.”

  Ren had missed the obvious—a large metal bar sheathed in a metal container crossed the face of the door. Ollie studied it before grabbing a knob. He pulled, his muscles strained beneath his dark skin, and the bar screeched until it crossed the crease of the wall. Ren grabbed the handle, and they pulled the door open. It scraped across the floor, and Ren winced at the sound.

  It slowly swung open, and, when the space was big enough, Ren slipped into the room.

  A figure lay on the bed, unmoving, and Ren raced to the bunk. His shin smacked into the bed frame, and he shook the body’s shoulder. Oh, please. Oh, please. Oh, please.

  Liam rolled to his back and blinked up, confused, his eyes blurry, and his forehead crinkled. “Ren?” he croaked. “Is this a dream?”

  Ren smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. His heart pounded, and joy flashed through him; his eyes stung with tears. “Get up. This isn’t a dream.”

  Liam shot up, and Ren jumped backward to keep from knocking their heads together. Liam swung his legs around. The white of the medical scrubs he wore washed out his complexion, and his eyes were shadowed with lack of sleep and worry, but he grinned when he staggered to his feet.

  “Ren?” Ren caught him in a hug and held on. Liam sagged into his arms. “What are you doing here? What have you done?”

  “No time to talk. We need to go.”

  Ren swung Liam’s arm over his shoulder and grabbed his waist. They hobbled to the door, and Ren peeked around the frame.

  Ollie and Asher waited, scanning the hallway, weapons up and ready.

  “Got him?” Asher asked, casting a glance over his shoulder.

  Ren beamed. “Yes. Yes, I have him.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Liam rasped. “Wait, there are others. There are others here, and they’re going to move us or kill us. I’m not sure which but, please.”

  “Sorry, kid, but we don’t have time.” Asher raised the comm to his mouth. “We’ve got Liam. How are you doing?”

  Darby’s voice came back. “We’re clear, but we heard chatter on the comms that Vos is loose in the facility. He got away in the commotion.”

  “Stars,” Asher cursed. “Is that what you hid in the stairwell?” he said, gaze cutting to Ren.

  Ren shrugged. “I didn’t know he was loose. I did feel the doors open on the top floor.”

  Asher clutched his gun and dipped his chin toward his comm. “Eyes open. We don’t want to run into him or anyone who is hunting him.”

  “Gotcha, boss,” Darby said.

  “Ren? What’s going on?” Liam rasped. He was heavy on Ren’s shoulder, and his weight threatened to pull Ren to the floor. But he wouldn’t let Ollie take Liam. They needed Ollie for protection, and Ren wasn’t going to give up. Not now. He hauled Liam closer.

  “We’ve got to get out of here before we’re crunched by one of the Corps.”

  “Like me?” The figure that stepped out from the cross section wore the Corps uniform and a smug smile. He stopped in the middle of the hallway to block their path to the docking bay.

  “You,” Asher said, voice hard.

  Corporeal Zag smirked. “Me.”

  “How’d you get free?”

  “Manual override,” Zag said, with a shrug. “This base is not technopath-friendly. And you may be navigating now, but I guarantee you’ll make a mistake. It’s a matter of time.”

  Ren scoffed. “Stars. Figured we’d run into an utter cog,” Ren said. Liam hung on his arm like a limpet and squinted at Ren. Ren thrust his chin at Zag. “He killed me.”

  Zag pressed a hand to his chest. “I didn’t kill you.” He reached for his hip, and Asher raised his weapon and trained it on Zag.

  “Don’t.”

  Zag stopped, smirk still firmly in place, and raised his hands. “The gun in my holster killed you.” His hand fluttered, and Asher moved forward, stepping between Ren and Zag. “You’re inter
rupting the reunion, Morgan. I’d love for another bullet to find its way to your friend. Maybe this time, he’ll stay dead.”

  “Out of the way,” Asher said, gesturing with the tip of his gun. “Back the way you came and maybe focus on the real threat.”

  Zag smiled. “You mean Vos, that duster playing leader? He may have escaped, but we’ll catch him again. Just as I’ve caught you.”

  “You haven’t caught us yet. And I promise you,” Asher said, body trembling with rage, “you don’t want to catch me.”

  Ren reached out but there were no weapons on Zag he could use. And the hallway was only equipped with cameras—no weapons for technopaths to turn on their captors.

  “Is that a threat, Morgan?” He tapped his chin. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were doing grunt work on Bara? We’re taking that planet over, you know. The Corps is done with you foolish dusters coming up here to space and mucking up the drifts. It’s not just techies and star hosts we’re imprisoning now.”

  “A police state. Nice. Except you won’t be able to police anything once you’re all vented.”

  Zag laughed. He dipped his head and met Ren’s gaze. “You going to vent me?” He swaggered closer. “What will your little brother think about you killing soldiers on Erden? Or the ones on Bara? That was you, wasn’t it?”

  Ren narrowed his eyes. The longer they stood there, the longer Zag stalled, the greater the threat of capture or worse. Liam was already weakening, his pressure on Ren’s body was becoming a dead weight that he wouldn’t be able to support.

  “It’s not Ren you have to worry about.”

  “Vos? That cog? He’s a duster cog. He’s not a threat to me.” Zag cocked his head and peered over Asher’s shoulder. “And neither are you, Ren. Is that your name? Take away the access to tech, and you’re a scared, little, village boy.”

  Liam rolled his eyes. “This guy is a dick,” he said out loud. “Why are we listening to this? I don’t know you and I don’t like you.” Liam turned to Asher. “Shoot him.”