by F. T. Lukens
Oz maneuvered the floater through the opening and toward the large building. After powering down, the guards led Ren inside.
“It’s a hangar,” he said.
A row of ships stretched in front of him, different shapes and sizes, all heavily equipped. They gleamed in the sunlight pouring in through the high windows. Ren stared in awe.
“You’re to help fix them.”
Ren laughed. “Fix them? I’ve never been on one. How am I supposed to fix them?”
Oz crossed his arms, his biceps bulged. “The same way you fix the tech in the courtyard. Figure it out.”
The other guard thrust a piece of paper at him. “Here’s a list for the lancer over there. It’s everything you need to do. Report to the other engineer on board. You will assist.”
Ren’s mouth dropped open as he gingerly took the piece of paper. “I know you must think I’m good at my job, but I don’t know how to fix,” he looked down at the sheet, “a starboard propulsion thruster.”
Oz rolled his eyes and blew out a breath, obviously annoyed. He shoved Ren in the shoulder. “Report to the engineer—Janus.”
Ren clutched the paper and walked toward the first ship. A lancer is what the guard had called it. It was obviously military grade, from the plating and the weapons array fixed to the outside. Ren had never seen a ship up close before. His mother had forbid him to visit the space docks near his village, but he had seen ships in books and the occasional holovid. This one was bigger than a personal transport or merchant ship, but smaller than a freighter. A small door in the hull stood open, and Ren tentatively climbed the ramp and entered.
Ren had dreamed for years about being on a ship. Now he was here, he didn’t want to be. He never thought he’d rather be at home than walking into a ship, but here he was.
Ren stepped into an open space, which looked like an engineering section. Tools were strewn everywhere. Wires hung out of open circuit boards. It was a mess.
“Hello,” he called, voice echoing. “I’m here to report to the engineer.”
There was a rustle nearby and Ren stepped toward the sound cautiously.
“Hello?”
“Idle your engines,” a voice snapped back.
Ren tapped his foot and waited. Soon, he heard more noise, and then a woman popped up from underneath a console. She was short, with wiry gray hair, and wore large goggles, which enlarged her blue eyes. She wore an outfit like the guards, but without the body armor. Her shrewd gaze swept over Ren’s frame, and Ren felt her scrutiny much as he had felt Abiathar’s. It took every bit of his resolve not to twitch.
“For cog’s sake, they sent me another duster. And just what am I supposed to do with you?”
Ren shrunk away. Her voice was sharp and loud, like a dagger in the ear, and her mouth twisted and her eyes narrowed. Ren crinkled the paper; sweat from his palm moistened it.
She bustled forward and snatched the sheet.
“Useless giving you that. Stupid guards. Well? Can you strip wires? Do you know how?”
“Yes,” Ren said.
“Good.” She pointed to a table filled with metal parts. Wires stuck out everywhere. “Sit there. Pull out all the wires from that heap and strip them all. Don’t talk.”
He moved and his shackles clinked.
She scrunched her nose and, quick as a snake, grabbed the chain that hung between his wrists.
“Shackled, huh? Did you try to run away?”
Ren shook his head.
“Well, what did you do to earn them? Speak, boy.”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
“What? Surely you did something.”
Ren shrugged. “My cuffs fell off in the courtyard.”
She stiffened and backed away, moving slowly, hand up. Her face drained of all color. “One of those, huh? Worse than a duster.”
Confused, Ren rubbed a hand over his brow, feeling a headache blossom behind his eyes. Janus made a small noise at the sudden movement.
“Listen to me,” she said, sharply. “Go over there and don’t touch anything. Strip those wires, and when you’re done you go on back to the castle. I don’t want your kind here. Abiathar may think he can control you, but I know better.”
Clearly, this woman was a fuse short. Ren raised his hands in supplication and walked to the table. He sat on a stool and started working, keeping his head down as he disassembled a large piece of tech. He felt her hot gaze on him for a long time.
Salvaging the parts for wires from the dead parts took much longer than Ren thought it would. By the end, his fingers hurt from manipulating the small pieces of metal and small cuts were scattered all over his hands, but he did have a large pile of stripped wire to show for it. He flexed his fingers and grimaced at the sting. His first time on a ship and he absolutely hated every minute.
“I’m done,” he said.
Janus, who had been working on another project, startled at his voice. She snapped her head up, her eyes comically large behind the goggles.
“Good. Leave. Don’t touch anything.”
Ren was tempted to trail his fingers over everything as he walked out, but didn’t. He kept his hands in fists with his fingers tucked toward his palms. With his luck, one foolish gesture would have him in serious trouble, and Janus was paranoid enough. He didn’t need to provoke her, though he really had no idea why.
Leaving the ship, Ren cast one last look over his shoulder, and Janus watched him with lips pressed together.
He waved. She flinched.
And Ren hid a smile as he descended the steps to the hangar floor. He found Oz chatting with a group of people, guards and workers judging by their uniforms.
“I’m done,” Ren said.
“Good.” Oz handed him a sandwich and a canteen full of water. “Eat. Drink. It’s already late, so we’ll stay here for the night and you can work here again tomorrow.”
His stomach growling, Ren bit into the food. The sandwich had meat and cheese, two things he didn’t get much of at the castle. He had to slow down to keep from devouring it. But then Oz’s words sunk in, and Ren’s heart dropped. If he didn’t go back tonight, Asher might think something happened to him, that he wouldn’t be coming back. And despite their rough beginning, Asher had become his friend. He couldn’t let him think he was alone again.
“Uh…” Ren said, around a mouthful of food. “The engineer lady really doesn’t want me here. She wouldn’t let me touch anything and she kept watching me. I think I hindered more than I helped.”
Oz sighed. “Stars, that woman. She’s paranoid about everything. Sit here. I’ll go talk to her.”
Ren found a chair and sat in it while he polished off the sandwich. He drank from the canteen, long, slow draughts of the sweet water. It was cold, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d drunk water that wasn’t lukewarm—and then only a cupful at a time.
Once the canteen was empty, Ren pulled his legs into the chair and surveyed the hangar. His first impression hadn’t been far off. It was a large building with several ships in a row, all waiting to be fixed. A few workmen moved about, but it wasn’t fully staffed by any means, not if the Baron wanted these ships in the air anytime soon. Especially not with a spacer like Janus running things.
Ren heard yelling, one of the voices being Oz’s, and then he heard Oz stomping down the lane between the ships toward Ren. His hands were clenched at his sides. A wayward curl escaped from his hair pin and bounced erratically on his forehead; his expression was extremely annoyed.
“Come on,” he said, gruffly. “We’re leaving.”
Ren stood and looped the canteen over his shoulder. He followed Oz outside and to the floater. It was nearing dusk and, with the hour ride, it would be late by the time they reached the castle, later than Ren was usually back in his cell.
Asher would worry.
“I didn’t say anything.”
Oz grunted.
They rode back in silence, and because the other guard stayed behind, Ren was able to sprawl in the seat. He was half asleep by the time Oz parked the floater. They climbed out and Ren again followed Oz to the siege tunnel.
Ren thought about escaping. This was as good a chance as any. He could possibly take Oz from behind. His shackles were heavy enough to render Oz unconscious. But then what? He had no provisions, other than an empty canteen. And he couldn’t leave Sorcha, Jakob, and Asher behind. And as Asher had said, to where would he run?
No, it wasn’t time yet. He would hold off and hope his time would come soon.
The courtyard was empty when they passed through; the quiet and stillness seemed odd.
Again, when Ren was led back to the cell, he counted the turns and the steps and only made one mistake. He was getting better. He was sure he’d be able to do it on his own soon. It was one step closer to getting out.
When they arrived at the dungeon, Asher was on his feet, pacing the small length of his cell. He snapped his head up when Ren entered, and Ren could hear the sigh of relief. Asher waited impatiently as Oz unlocked Ren’s shackles and took the canteen, but once Oz was gone, he crossed to their shared wall and reached through. He grabbed Ren’s arm, right above his elbow, and squeezed.
“I was scared you were gone. That you weren’t coming back.” Asher’s face was paler than normal; his green eyes were wide and worried. His grip was just on the edge of painful.
Ren smiled softly. He patted Asher’s hand. It was the first time they had touched, and Ren would have sworn he felt a spark when he touched Asher’s skin. But he was tired, so he chalked the feeling up to being relieved he was back in his cell. And how funny was it that Ren was beginning to think of these stone walls as home?
“I knew you would think that,” he said. “It’s why I made sure they brought me back tonight.”
“Where have you been?”
“It’s been a long day,” Ren said. He nodded toward the corner. “Let’s get comfortable first, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Asher’s cheeks flushed as his gaze dropped to where he clutched Ren. He dropped his hand and pulled it back through the grid.
“Sorry,” he said, choked. “I was worried.”
“I was worried too.”
Ren pulled his mattress from the far corner and positioned it along the grid. Asher did the same. Ren collapsed, pulled off his boots and sat back against the stone with his side pressed to the length of their shared wall. Asher mirrored his pose, and if the iron had not separated them, they would have been pressed together from shoulders to toes.
“They took me outside the castle,” Ren said. “I thought I wasn’t coming back.”
Asher shifted. “Where did you go?”
“A hangar. They wanted me to work on ships even though I’d never even set foot on one before. There was this weird engineer. She was scared of me. I have no idea why. I think it had something to do with the shackles.”
Asher turned to him and brow furrowed. “Ships? What kind of ships?”
“Military, I think. I only know what I’ve seen in books and vids, but they had weapons.”
“Are you sure they were ships? They could break atmo?”
“I know I’m a stupid duster, but I know what a ship is, thanks.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Asher snapped back. “There’s a difference between ships that would be used on the planet versus those that would go out into space. I understand why the Baron would need the former, but not the latter.”
Ren let his head thump back against the stone. He thought back to the list Oz had thrust at him. “These were definitely spaceworthy,” he said. “One of the systems that needed to be fixed was an artificial gravity stabilizer.”
“Stars,” Asher said quietly. He rubbed a hand over his face, pushing the limp strands of his blond hair out of his eyes. “Stars, Ren. What if he means to go after the drifts? What if your little planet was only the beginning?”
“But you said he only had four of the five fiefs under his control.”
“Yes, but that was a year ago. A lot can change in a year.” Asher pulled his knees to his chest. “It makes sense,” he muttered. “Why he would need people like you.”
“Like me? Why me?”
“Huh? Oh, uh, people mechanically inclined. To fix the ships.”
“You’re worse than they are,” Ren said, pointing toward the force field. “I don’t know how anyone thinks I can fix tech, much less fix ships I’ve never set foot on. I don’t understand any of this. I sometimes think I’m the only sane person around here.”
The corner of Asher’s mouth lifted into a smile. He shook his head. “That’s not likely.”
Ren crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. Asher knew something and he wasn’t telling. In fact, Ren had a feeling he was the only one kept in the dark.
The smile dropped from Asher’s face, as if he’d had a realization. “I have to get out of here,” he said quietly. “I have to warn them. I have to warn my mother. The drifts won’t be prepared.”
“Won’t be prepared for some duster Baron?”
“If the Phoenix Corps isn’t alerted in time, they won’t be. My presence here is keeping the Corps from even knowing what is going on. They’re vulnerable. I have to get out of here.” Asher turned to look at Ren, his eyes piercing Ren to the core. “Tell me you’ve been planning.”
Ren flushed hot under the intense gaze. “Yes. I’ve been observing. I have pieces of a plan. I just need to put it all together.”
“Good. We’ll do it. And you and I and your friends are going to get out of here, together.”
Ren smiled. “All right.”
“Okay, now, tell me what you know.”
* * *
Ren told Asher about the siege tunnel. He told him how the courtyard was empty at night. And he told him about how he’d memorized the way out of the dungeon.
“That’s all I have so far. We have to figure out a way to break out of here and then get through the force field and door of the siege tunnel. And then a way to cross the landscape without being seen.”
“It’s a start,” Asher said. Arms crossed behind his head, he stretched out on his mattress. “If anyone can figure a way out of here, it’s you.”
Ren snorted. “What happened to me being an idiot duster?”
“You know I don’t think that. Well, not now, anyway.”
“Jerk,” Ren said with a laugh.
Asher sobered. “You’re smart, Ren. And you haven’t given up yet despite the odds. You’ll find a way.”
Ren lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, flattered Asher would think of him as smart and determined.
“We’ll leave together,” he said. “You’ll see the sun again.”
Asher moaned. “I’ve missed the sun. You have no idea.”
Ren laughed. He didn’t know why they hadn’t moved their mattresses to the common wall before. The closeness was nice, reassuring, and Ren took comfort in the sound of Asher shifting around on his mattress and his slow, even breaths.
“Tell me another one of your stories,” Asher said, sounding as if on the edge of sleep. “One about space.”
Ren rolled to his back. “Why? You grew up in space. I doubt it will be entertaining.”
Reaching through the grid, Asher lazily poked Ren in the side. Ren squirmed away, ticklish.
“Come on, humor me.”
“Fine,” Ren sighed. “My mother told this one about men who broke the sky. I don’t remember it completely because she only told it a few times and only when Liam wasn’t aro
und. I think she was scared of upsetting him.”
Asher nodded and gestured for Ren to go on.
“Once upon a time,” Ren began. As he talked, the environment changed, the air became heavy, all sound muted save for his voice. Even the hum of the force field sounded far away. For a moment, it was only them, no worry about what the world held for them beyond the four walls of the cell or beyond the atmosphere. It was just one boy telling a story to another.
“There were star hosts who had the ability to merge with machines. They grew powerful. Their consciousness intermingled with ships and weapons and slowly they became more machines than men.”
Ren stared at the ceiling, but he didn’t see it. He imagined the night sky above him.
“The more they interfaced, the more dangerous they became. Cold and calculating, more reason than emotion, they lost their humanity. As with Cassandra, they were slowly driven insane. Turning on their human counterparts, they started a war.”
Ren took a breath.
“It was brutal. Heavy casualties on both sides. A swath of space became so saturated with debris it became unnavigable. My mother called it the Perilous Space. The machine men were wiped out, so they say.” After a minute, Ren said softly, “Sorry for the depressing story.”
“It’s okay. I wanted to hear it. It’s interesting.” Asher’s voice was equally quiet, lending to the intimacy of the moment.
“All the stories my mother used to tell us about the star hosts ended with a tragedy. Do you think they were destined to go insane?”
“I don’t know,” Asher said. “It must be difficult to have that much power contained in a body not meant for it.” He looked Ren over, his gaze sweeping up and down Ren’s slim frame. “But other than being star hosts, both stories have a similarity.”
“What’s that?”
“They were alone.”
Ren was surprised at Asher’s insightfulness. And he was right. Cassandra wasn’t believed and died alone, and the machine men had cut themselves off from humanity. They didn’t have companionship from family, or friends, or lovers.
“Huh,” Ren said. “You’re right.”