Heretics (Stars Edge: Nel Bently Book 4)

by V. S. Holmes

  “Lin, I’m so sorry.” Her words were slurred, probably from whatever godsent fluid hung in bags around her. She reached out, but her hand remained cold.

  “Morning, Dr. Bently.”

  “Dar?”

  His strained smile shattered her hope. He gestured to the empty chair beside her bed. “May I?”

  She tried to nod, but grimaced and chose to groan instead. When he was seated, robe carefully arranged, his eyes rested on her. There was darkness in them, the same fathomless depths as Lin’s. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask. “Lin?” Fuck.

  The smooth skin around his eyes tightened. “How do you feel?”

  There wasn’t a world, even in the quantum existence of all space and time, where she imagined Dar asking how she was feeling. Even after their brief hour of mutual tolerance. The realization that she wasn’t, in fact, dead, rocketed into her mind. The room spun and tears and bile rushed up.

  “It’s alright,” he offered, though his only move to comfort her was to hand over a small metal emesis basin.

  “Is it?” Nel asked when she’d finished spitting into the dish. She was sick of puking. It wasn’t fair that vomiting hurt this much when everything already sucked.

  “Relatively. You’re not dead.”

  “Yeah, want to explain that bit?” Maybe they’d work up to talking about his errant sister.

  “You’re lucky you were unconscious for it. I was on the road when I got word you’d disarmed it. It was a nightmare once your message went live. Panic, mostly in the cities. Smaller towns manually shut their networks off, so most didn’t realize what happened until afterward.” One immaculate boot nudged her bed, which was thankfully bolted to the floor. His approximation of a teasing grin broadened. “Martyr.”

  “Look, I didn’t see you barring Harris’s way.” She summoned enough energy to glare at him. “How’d I get out?”

  “Emilio found you.” His face paled. “What was left, anyway.”

  Cold eased into Nel’s bones. She hadn’t taken stock of her body, really, other than realizing that everything hurt. The pain was too immense to do much else than pray it would end. If I were the praying type. Now she glanced down at herself.

  Bandages wrapped most of her skin, but they were thin and clean, which was a good sign. The sheets covered her body from the chest down. A thick lump of blanket-covered bandages marked her right thigh. Only one foot jutted up at the bottom of the bed. She lifted the blankets gingerly, peering beneath at the swaddled bandages that marked where her lower leg once began. Panic was too weak a word. Horror was too certain.

  “I did what I could,” he apologized. “But I was an hour out, and the walk through the desert was long. By the time I found you and Emilio, the damage and blood loss… I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  “It’s just a leg,” she rasped past the lump in her throat.

  He looked away.

  “Thank you, Dar.” That’s what she was supposed to do, right? Thank him for saving her life, even if he couldn’t save all her pieces. Maybe when the pain stopped and she relearned how to do everything that had thus far defined her, she’d mean it.

  “They say your burns are healing well. Shouldn’t be much scarring.”

  Scarring. Limping. Prosthetics. Is this what Phil felt when he woke up in a tank, having traded 150-odd pounds of flesh and bone for a few thousand terabytes of RAM? Did he feel sick to his nonexistent stomach? She glowered at the single foot protruding from the otherwise smooth coverlet. “Doesn’t seem fair.” When Dar opened his mouth to interject or argue, she barreled on, “Couldn’t they have at least taken the one with only a few toes left? Balance is gonna suck enough as it is now.”

  He snorted, then a proper laugh burst from his mouth. “I never understood what she saw in you, but I think I’m starting to get it.”

  “She needed someone to pull that ridiculous IDH-branded stick out of her ass.” Mirth faded from her voice and she drew a long breath. “Guess I didn’t really succeed in that either. She’s still with IDH?”

  “For now. Harris, too, though I haven’t heard a word about him. He’s gone to ground before.”

  She turned away, catching sight of the view outside the window again. It wasn’t the moon, but Earth, blue and whole and beautiful. “Where are we? This your ship?”

  “Recursive is a refugee ship.” His smile was more sorrow than anything else. “There’s half a dozen, running until we can fix this mess or it’s ended.”

  “You the captain? Does that rank transfer with you people?”

  His laugh was soft, and he looked down. “You’re one of us now. Here we’re all just people. No Founders, IDH, or ignorant earthlings.”

  “My mom, is she—”

  “You’ll share a suite once you’ve recovered enough to transfer to the passenger ward. Two rooms,” he promised.

  Nel shrugged. “I doubt I’ll get up to much canoodling regardless, what with…” She drew a breath and cleared her throat. “Is she able to visit?”

  “She is, I can call her if you—”

  “No. Please. I don’t want her to see this. Not just yet.”

  “She knows; she’s been by your bedside every day that she can.”

  “Yeah, I just mean…” She fumbled for the right words. “I don’t want to see her seeing me. Yet. I think I gotta get used to seeing myself a bit first. I’m just happy she’s safe.”

  He nodded to what she assumed was the rest of the ship. “We’ve got techs here. Skilled ones. Not quite as fancy as IDH-issue prosths, but just as good.”

  Nel scowled. “I’m not looking to have fucking Bluetooth in my knee, thank you very much.”

  “How else would your MapStep app work?”

  She stared at him in horror until his deadpan cracked and he broke out into wheezing laughter. Which was almost as horrifying.

  “I’m sorry,” he began, but her own laughter cut him off. “Oh good, I thought I’d pissed you off.”

  “I’m just stunned that you’re capable of laughter.”

  “I think we’ve been needing it lately. Hasn’t been much joy in my little corner of stardust for a while.”

  The familiar shadow of grief flickered through her heart. “I know I said it before, but I’m truly sorry. About Paul.”

  His eyes glistened and he nodded his thanks. “It wasn’t your fault. They were terrible circumstances. Funny, I thought I knew we were over, but I guess a tiny part still thought…”

  “What if.” If she actually liked him, she would have touched his hand. Instead she fiddled with her sheets. There was one question, though, that still pressed on her. “Why’d you save me?”

  His delicate brows arched. “I’m not a murderer.”

  “You could have been free of me, saved your sister’s soul, if it's still in there somewhere.” She recoiled. That wasn’t fair, and as tough as she might act, there were some places even she wouldn’t go. “That's not what I meant.”

  “You have every right to be angry. I was too, for a long time. Until I saw her, actually saw her.” He looked away for a moment. “I saved you because you’re the only thing that ever cracked her. Even though I can’t stand your mouth, or your fashion, or your problem-solving skills.” His sharp mouth cracked into an even sharper smile.

  “Mutual, bud.” He might have been far easier to understand than his sister, but that’s where the fun was, she supposed. The constant beautiful enigma. “You warned her against me. On Odyssey. What kind of woman would follow someone into space?”

  “In all the time I’ve known her I never once saw her falter. IDH was everything she dreamed of. She’d sooner gut me than give up a career under Dr. Ndebele.”

  Nel frowned. “I thought you were the cutthroat ladder climber.”

  “Oh sure. Now. You never knew that Lin. You never knew her because the moment she set eyes on you, she was lost. Utterly. Whatever you did to her, you’re her north star now.” He leaned
back against the seat. “I tried every argument I could think of to get her brain out of the indoctrination of IDH. But it took a, ah—”

  “Foul-mouthed dyke from Jasper Hill?”

  “I was going to say crass earthling.”

  “Were not.” She rolled her eyes. Their mirth faded quickly, and she drew a breath. “So, what now? Your sister is Harris’s best girl and I’m down a—a leg.'' The words were still foreign, and right now joking was the only way to say them at all. Anger would come and all the other less-familiar stages of grief, she supposed. And therapy, physical and otherwise, if Zach has anything to say about it. Was he here, too, racing for starlit salvation?

  Her heart burned with the distinct lack of something she wasn’t quite certain of yet. Part of her feared it was the nameless thing that disappeared with Mikey—the heartbeat she called hope. A larger part, though, was terrified it now took the form of an impeccably dressed and traitorous spacegirl.

  “I know there are those in IDH who want out, they just don’t know how. Or they’re playing the long-con. We need to get to them.” It wasn’t doubt in his voice, but an ironclad challenge.

  “They’ll find us.” Nel grinned into the black of space. For once, it didn’t feel empty. Out there, beyond the blue marble of Earth receding into the starlight, another woman stood on another spaceship. “They’ll follow the smoke.”

  END

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  Heretics

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  Discover Lin’s Story in

  Disciples

  Cryosleep was a temporary death. The lights were dim, a twilight between waking and sleep. Lin blinked and rolled her shoulders, stretched her neck, curled her toes. Viscous stasis fluid drained silently, leaving goosebumps across her beige skin. Nausea shuddered through her. She ignored it. Instead she drifted in the peace of momentary amnesia. The hiss of heated air punctured the stillness. She flexed her fingers and tapped the smooth metal embedded in the flesh of her wrist. “Commence waking sequence in five….” She counted the seconds down silently.

  “Good morning, Opsir Nalawangsa.” The low voice was male, and just shy of truly human. The lights rose, gradual and faintly yellow.

  “Good morning, Phil. Where are we?” She pushed out of her tank, rising in the zero G of her cryo tube. The lights were fully bright now.

  “We’re in orbit, 437 km from the surface of the planet Earth.” There was a pause, and she almost thought the ship’s voice held a smile. “Welcome home.”

  She snorted. “My genes may come from that ball of dirt, Phil, but I certainly don’t.” The air rolled over her skin, drying as it went. A click and pop echoed from beside the closed door of the cryo tube. She grabbed the vial from the ship’s delivery system and held it up.

  NALAWANGSA, LIN

  IMMUNIZATION LEVEL 2

  STABILIZERS

  PROTEIN

  CARBOHYDRATES

  ELECTROLYTES

  VITAMINS A, D, B, C

  SALINE

  She groaned. “What does a woman have to do to get proper grilled fish with her breakfast in bed?”

  “When you cure cryo-sick I will personally deliver you a plate of fresh milkfish in bed upon waking.”

  She rolled her eyes and snapped the vial into the port in her arm. A moment passed then her nausea subsided. Aching in her head ebbed. “How was the trip?”

  “Uneventful. You are wanted in Trajectory.” Phil’s tone often trod the line between a butler’s deference and a captain’s rebuke.

  “Dar?”

  “Yes. It appears Komodor Muda Nalawangsa has requested you personally. Shall I tell him you’re on your way?” Probably just to rub in his new rank of Komodor Muda and the fact he’s now senior enough to just ‘request’ me. “Thanks, Phil. I’ll see you there.” She unwrapped the plastic from her uniform and slid it on. After seven years of drifting naked in a vat of saline, the stiff electro-fiber felt cumbersome. She flexed her hand, aligning the contacts inside with the conduits tattooed on her skin. A hum. A rush of energy not-quite-her-own. Paired. The word wasn’t spoken, not heard in the traditional sense, nor was it a thought. It least, not hers. Increase temperature by 0.5 degrees C.

  Her goosebumps sank back into her skin. She slid the door open and slithered from her cryotube. The lights here were brighter, the snaking lines of green and blue illuminating the stark white of walls and the sharp silver of glass. Her finger brushed the pad in the wall, changing a panel from cycling photos to a mirror. She scraped her hair back and straightened her collar. It was always alarming how little her face changed during years of cryosleep.

  “Opsir Nalawangsa—”

  “Yeah, Phil, I know. On my way.” She shoved through the next door into a corridor. The steep curve told her still-disoriented mind she was on the interior of the ship. A gentle press indicated they were just inside the gravitational field. Planet-side is starboard. She kicked off the floor and sailed along the corridor. Other than several bots and the usual techs, the hall was deserted. Debriefing already started then. It took days for the ship and crew to recover from a cryo-trip to open space. Longer when they arrived at a planet’s orbit. She found the first drop-door to the exterior rings of the ship and pressed the symbol for Trajectory. The ground trembled with the rings’ gentle turning. When the doors between the outer rings and a transport shaft were aligned the door slid open. Lin dropped, her grin broad. This was her favorite part. The slight artificial gravity brought by the rotation grew the farther from the core she got, so what started as a gentle drift accelerated into a true free fall.

  WARNING: Falling from high places can result in damage or expiration. Engage mag-catch. She ignored the suit for another moment, enjoying the rushing air. Lights flickered past as she hurtled through dozens of levels. She clenched her teeth against biting her tongue. Suit: Engage mag-catch. Electromagnets in her suit kicked on with a hum and lurch. By the time she arrived at the door emblazoned with the symbol for Trajectory she was floating. A panel slid across the transport tube and she touched down. Gravity settled over her like a blanket. Even her organs felt heavy. Her palm on the door granted access to the waiting area. Another palm on the next door prompted a cheery robotic voice very unlike Phil’s.

  “Good morning! Please state your rank, full name, and purpose clearly into the speaker.”

  Lin leaned forward. “Opsir Muda Udara First Class Lin Nalawangsa, to see Komodor Muda Udara Dar Nalawangsa.”

  “Accepted, have a lovely day!”

  Lin smiled, wondering if the security bot’s voice grew irate when you weren’t allowed through. The door slid open and she stepped through. Trajectory was as messy and chaotic as the rest of the ship was tidy. The bank of screens to the left showed their past trips, and those of other ships in the fleet. One blinked with a digital scan of Phil’s face as he debriefed the crew and discussed issues with other ships’ minds. The right was a whirlwind of orbit physics and gravitational maps. Her brother stood within the ring of navigation and communication computers that dominated the center of the room. He snarled something at the image of Phil’s head on one of his screens. “I don’t really care what the ISS has to say. Our orbit takes precedence. It’s much harder for us to navigate then for them.”

  “Sir,” Phil offered, “I think they feel differently. They’re expecting a shipment and new crew. Their flightpath has been planned for months, and the weather won’t hold forever—”

  “I’ll show them fucking weather…” His mutter al
most drowned in a chorus of beeps that rose from Navigation. “Then put me on the com with NASA.”

  “Paging NASA.”

  Lin saw her opening and stepped up to the raised floor of the Captain’s Ring. “You wanted to see me, Dar?”

  Dar frowned, but did not look up. He could have been her twin: black, smooth hair, warm beige skin, and deep oval eyes. Their features and parents, however, were the only things they shared.

  “I need you to go planet-side.”

  Lin’s stomach lurched. The tingle crawling up her arms had nothing to do with electromagnets or her suit maintaining temperature. “Excuse me?”

  Read the rest of Disciples for free!

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Writing is always an intense labor of love. This is true, doubly, for this book, written during a time of political upheaval and the health crisis of COVID19. It would not have been completed without the incredible community I’ve found.

  Thank you to O. E. Tearmann for inspiring me to write the stories that need to be told. Thank you to Kathrin Hutson for your generosity, friendship, and mentorship. Thank you to Amy Spitzfaden for being a wonderful friend and ally. Thank you to the wonderful teams at Creative Edge, Zero Alchemy, Proof Positive, and Imagine Ink for your faith and hard work making this the best it could be.

  Thank you to my father, who did not see this book published, but whose love and kindness and spirit of exploration inspired me—and whose memory now lives on, with Nel, in the Writers on the Moon Time Capsule at Lactus Mortis.

  And, as always, thank you to my spouse for your belief, your support, and your love.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  V. S. Holmes is an international bestselling author. They created the BLOOD OF TITANS series and the NEL BENTLY BOOKS. Smoke and Rain, the first book in their fantasy quartet, won New Apple Literary's Excellence in Independent Publishing Award in 2015 and a Literary Titan Gold in 2020. Travelers is also included in the Peregrine Moon Lander mission as part of the Writers on the Moon Time Capsule. In addition, they have published short fiction in several anthologies.