by F. T. Lukens
Asher waved him away. “Don’t trouble yourself. Don’t waste your gift.”
“Ash,” Ren said softly. “It’s not a waste. And… we need you. The crew needs you healthy and able when we face whatever it is we’re about to face.”
Asher ran a hand down his face and slumped forward. “Ren, please—”
“I need you.” Asher’s body went stiff at the declaration and Ren plowed on. “I need you, Ash. I need you to keep me grounded and real. I need your voice. I need your presence or I’m going to break apart.”
“Okay,” Asher said. “Okay, see what you can do.”
Tentatively, Ren moved close, standing behind Asher as he sat in his chair. Trembling, Ren brushed his fingers down the line of Asher’s neck. Asher shivered under his touch, and Ren settled his palm on the curve of Asher’s injured shoulder, under the collar of his shirt. The fabric brushed Ren’s wrist. Asher’s skin was hot under his hand; the raised scar was rough against his palm.
“Let me know if I hurt you.”
Asher merely nodded, and Ren released his star. Heat prickled all over Ren’s body; he closed his eyes and followed the pull of the mechanism in Asher’s shoulder.
Usually when Ren merged with a device, he could see everything, from one expanse to another. Within the ship, he could travel from the bridge to the hold in a blink. Probing Asher’s shoulder was different. The space around the wound was flesh and dark to Ren’s star gaze, but the metal and circuit joint of his shoulder glowed in Ren’s vision. He could see it, how Asher’s shoulder was obliterated, how titanium reinforced the bones and where the mechanisms melded with flesh. Asher was both man and machine, as Ren was.
“There’s a gear out of alignment,” Ren said. “I’m going to fix it. It might hurt.”
Ren felt Asher tense and steel himself. “Okay,” he said.
The pressure built. The first jolt of the star had to be painful, and Ren grimaced as he felt the gears shifting, moving, as they slotted into place. Energy crackled down Ren’s arms and into his fingers, which dug into Asher’s flesh, and the fine hairs of his arms stood on end. With force and power, Ren strained as both he and the star manipulated the joint, and then everything clicked.
Asher jerked and let out a small cry followed by a sob. “Oh,” Asher said, sagging forward. “Oh, oh stars, that was… that was…” He shuddered.
Ren snapped back into his body like a rubber band. His fingers creaked when he unclenched them from Asher’s shoulder, and he could see the indents where his fingers had dug in, but Asher didn’t seem bothered. He stood and turned, mouth open, expression dazed and awed.
“There’s no pain,” he whispered, as if saying it out loud would make it come undone. He rolled his shoulder. “I can’t believe it.” He wobbled and Ren caught him.
“How did it feel?” Ren asked, manhandling Asher to his bunk. Together they sat on the bed, hip to hip, Ren’s arm around Asher’s back.
“There was pressure and tingling and pain, and then relief. The absence of pain is amazing. I feel drunk… and sleepy.”
Ren smiled. “Maybe you should sleep then.”
“No.” Asher shook his head. “What did it look like to you?”
“Beautiful,” Ren said without thinking. He flushed immediately. “I mean, I could see the mechanism. It’s hurt you for a while, hasn’t it?”
“I don’t think I can remember a time since I was injured that my shoulder hasn’t hurt.”
Ren nodded. “I could feel it before when we touched. I think that’s why I sparked sometimes, because my star wanted to fix it. Fix you.” Ren looked at Asher. He was drowsy, on the verge of sleep, his eyes half-lidded. “I should go.”
Ren pulled his arm away.
“Wait. You wanted to talk, and I didn’t let you. So talk now,” Asher said with a wave of his hand. His pupils were blown wide and his movements were clumsy.
Ren bit back a laugh. It didn’t seem fair to broach the subject now, with Asher delirious from pain relief, but Ren couldn’t continue the way they were. He took a steadying breath and turned slightly. Wanting Asher to have no questions or doubts, Ren placed his hands on either side of Asher’s face with his fingertips lightly brushing the fuzz of Asher’s shorn hair.
Asher’s eyes were wide. Their vibrant green reminded Ren of the lush fields near his village.
“What are you—” Asher started, but Ren stopped him by pressing his mouth to Asher’s.
It wasn’t really a kiss, more a light brush of Ren’s lips over Asher’s, but Ren felt the shock of it down to his toes. He pulled away and dropped his hands to his lap, blushing hotly.
“When everything is over, we’ll figure this out,” Ren said softly, staring at the floor. “Until then, we’ll be the friends we were before. No more awkwardness between us. I wasn’t lying when I said I need you.”
Asher’s fingers curled around Ren’s palm. “That sounds like a good plan.”
Ren’s stomach fluttered, and his heart thumped so hard he swore Asher could hear it.
“For the record,” Asher continued, “I need you too. I would be sitting in a cage on your backwater planet right now if it weren’t for you. I’d still be in pain.”
Ren smirked. “How you’re able to compliment me and insult me in the same breath is a talent.”
Asher squeezed Ren’s fingers. “It’s a gift born of my superior upbringing on a drift.”
“Arrogant drifter.”
“Idiot duster,” Asher replied, the fondness in his tone causing Ren to smile widely. “Hey, want to go to the common room and play a board game and eat all the food?”
“You’re not too tired?”
Asher shrugged, then grinned and pointed to his shoulder. “I may fall asleep on the couch but I promise not to snore.”
“Yes,” Ren said. “That sounds perfect.”
Asher stood, keeping his hand clasped with Ren’s. He tugged Ren to standing. “Come on. Let’s see if Ollie wants to get trounced again.”
Ren laughed, feeling happy and warm, and allowed Asher to lead him out of the room and down the hallway.
%
“No word from Mother?” Rowan asked. She sat in her captain’s chair, staring at the pinprick that was Mykonos Drift on the view screen. They would dock in under an hour.
“Nothing.” Asher, in his uniform, stood at her side.
Rowan squinted and tapped on the screen next to her chair. “No radio traffic.” She frowned. “That’s weird. We should be within range to hear not only the drift but any ships docking or leaving. But there’s nothing.”
The drift was a spinning beacon in the midst of the blackness of space, but upon their approach Ren noticed several differences from Delphi. There was no ship traffic, no chatter on the open comms and no pleasant welcome from the docking authority. Ren couldn’t even feel a crackle of the energy that should be present.
Lucas squirmed in the pilot’s seat. “And we’ve run into no other ships. Mykonos is a busy port. We should have at least two or three other ships on the same trajectory.”
Ren and Asher exchanged a glance.
“Lucas, approach with caution. Ren, can you boost the sensors?” Rowan asked. She stared at the spinning drift, which was slowly growing in size on the screen.
“Sure. I’ll see what I can do.”
Ren pressed his hand to the navigation console and flickered in. Within seconds, he was peering out of the sensors, taking in everything he could, processing the information. There was little of it. Crackling along the circuits, Ren pushed farther, extended his star outward, and that’s when he felt it.
It wasn’t enemy ships that had Ren gasping back to his body, but sensing another star. A technopath was on the drift, dampening the drift signature and hiding the communications between the drift and the ships. Ren could sense her presence, curious and seeking, poking at him as he danc
ed away from her. He retreated into the data of the Star Stream to hide from her.
He focused on the other ships. A few of them Ren knew well, from the hangar on Erden, but there was a large one, a flagship, which Ren didn’t recognize. He couldn’t get a read on anything more.
Asher was at Ren’s side in an instant. “What? What did you see?”
“Ships,” Ren said on a gulp. “Several of them hiding on the other side of the drift. And there’s someone like me there.”
“You could feel them?”
“And she could feel me. They know we’re coming.”
13
“What do you mean someone like you?” Rowan barked. She stood on the bridge, hands on her hips. Eyes wide and round, Lucas looked over his shoulder at them and kept his hands on the steering controls, though he wasn’t using them at the moment.
“Another star host. I could feel her.”
“And what are they doing on Mykonos?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Asher asked. “The other technopath is under Abiathar’s control. He used her to take over the drift.”
“That’s insane.”
“Yes, but it’s true. And it’s only the start. Once the Baron establishes a base out here, it’s only a matter of time before he expands further.”
“Ollie and Penelope,” Rowan said, slamming her hand down on the comm, “get to the bridge. Now.” Rowan took a deep breath and tugged on the end of her braid. She began to pace, talking low, almost to herself. “Okay, so the drift our mother lives on has been invaded by the lapdog of a psychotic despot. The Phoenix Corps detachment there must have been overrun. We have no weapons, which means our only chance is stealth. I wonder if Mother was able to get a message to another Corps regiment.” She snapped her head up. “Set up a repeating beacon. A distress signal to alert the Phoenixes and a warning for everyone else to stay away.”
“I can do that,” Ren said.
“No, let Ash do it. We need you on the sensors. We need to know if there is any movement by those ships on the other side.”
“Too late, Cap,” Lucas said, gaze glued to the vid screen. “We have one already incoming. And a large one at that.”
“Who’s coming?” Ollie asked as he and his sister entered the bridge. “Please tell me they are friendly.”
“No such luck, Ollie,” Lucas said, flipping switches to shift the piloting to manual. “They’ve seen us and they are approaching fast.”
“So much for stealth,” Asher said, casting Rowan a wry glance. “Beacon set. We can hope it will draw attention before we’re blasted out of space.”
“Evasive maneuvers, Lucas,” Rowan said calmly, though her fingers were wrapped tight around her braid. “And the rest of you brace yourselves for engagement.”
Ren grimaced, anxiety bubbling into his throat. The ship approaching the Star Stream was easily five times larger than any ship Ren had seen in the hangar. Weapons array locked, it bore down on them. Ren had the sinking suspicion that they hadn’t been blown out of the sky only because the other technopath knew Ren was aboard.
Asher rolled his shoulders. “There’s still a chance we can outrun them. Retreat and bring back a Corps regiment of our own. Maybe they’ll believe us now.”
He was cut off by a warning shot across the bow.
The ship pitched beneath Ren’s feet, and he grabbed the wall to keep standing.
Rowan barked orders for evasive action while Asher and Ollie tried to gather intelligence on the attacking ship. Penelope manned the sensors and fed Lucas information about positions and tactics as Lucas kept them an erratically moving target.
The next shot was not a warning, and the ship rocked. Instruments shorted in a flurry of sparks.
“We’re losing power,” Penelope shouted. “Long range sensors are gone.”
“It’s a good thing it’s close combat then,” Rowan yelled back over the sound of the metal groaning in distress.
Ren felt the panic of the crew rising as the uncertainty of survival increased with every broken system, every pop in the metal.
Another blast struck the port side, and the ship juddered. More sparks flew.
Ren had to do something, but he was strangely calm. Panic and fear made his star unpredictable. He needed control, especially since he did not intend to run away again.
Taking a deep breath, Ren walked across the bridge and gently pushed Penelope away from the sensor console.
“Ren, what are you doing?” She grabbed Ollie’s arm to keep standing.
“What I need to,” Ren said. He looked at Asher, who stared back at him. “Keep your promise,” Ren said. “Don’t let me become a monster.”
Asher gave him a short nod. Ren bit his lip, trying to convey everything to Asher in one last look: all his desires and his fears and everything he wanted to do with Asher, but probably wouldn’t get the chance to. Ren hoped Asher understood.
A proximity alarm blared as the enemy ship closed. Ren turned his attention to the sensor console. He laid his palms flat against it and let the star free.
Ren shook, his whole body quivering as his power rushed through the ship, repairing everything. Flickers of electricity, blue and gold, tangled over themselves, climbed over the walls and the floor, seeking and fixing as Ren trembled. His gaze went blue. He curled his hands into the metal and clenched his eyes shut.
He flooded into the sensors, downloading the data about the other ship. The signature indicated the ship was named The Argonaut. The crew manifest showed forty-four hands. He cast it on the bridge vid screen. He heard his crew’s comments, their panic, their shouts. He felt the frizzles and pops of circuits as the Star Stream absorbed another blast. It was all muffled, as if he were under water, as when he dunked his head in the lake and Liam tried to talk to him from above the surface.
His body swayed with the movement of Lucas’s piloting. He distantly felt the metal warm from the touch of his fingers. Yet he was detached. He was there, but he wasn’t. He was both man and machine, like Asher. He was part of the crew and part of the ship. And as he heard the crew’s cries and felt the fission of another blast spark through the inner workings of the ship, Ren didn’t care about the battle or his friends.
What did they matter when he was part of the ship? What did anything matter, really? This was where he belonged, dancing among the circuits, at one with the systems. He was powerful this way, as a beam of light, as a star. What was his humanity worth if it only brought heartache and pain? Guilt and jealousy? He was fragile as flesh and blood, but as energy he was eternal. He pictured his consciousness hurtling through space, hopping from star to star, ship to ship, free of all confines. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.
“Ren!” Asher’s voice cut through the haze.
Ren opened his eyes to slits. He realized he hadn’t been paying attention to the The Argonaut and so had put them all in danger. Asher was in danger. And while Ren might survive, there was no life for Asher as either man or machine if the Star Stream were obliterated in space.
With a thought, Ren dove back into the sensory array. He reversed the mechanism and, instead of bringing information in, he aimed his power outward. He could feel the presence of the other technopath, a phantom existence on the periphery of his senses, but that was not what warranted his attention. The other ship launched two more blasts, and they headed straight for the Star Stream.
They would be destroyed.
Ren hunched over and gritted his teeth. His entire body quaked. Crackling blue energy gathered in the corners of the bridge, just as it had when Ren teleported them.
The blue pulse emanated from the ship in a flash of light and a blast of sound. It caught the incoming projectiles in a wave and froze them in their trajectories. Ren watched with satisfaction as the missiles fell apart, deconstructed, were rendered harmless under the force of his concentrated power.
&n
bsp; Ren thought it brilliant. He could only imagine how the others saw it. They were probably terrified, but that was not Ren’s problem.
Shuddering, sweat beading along his skin, his hair damp, spine bowed, Ren attempted to rein everything in, tried to shove a stopper back into the dam wall. He couldn’t.
“Ren,” Asher said, voice low, gentle, barely permeating the haze Ren was firmly ensconced in. “Listen to me. Let it go.”
“I can’t,” Ren gasped. “Not until you’re safe.” He pushed further and felt his body resist; the star cracked through him as if hatching from an egg. Light poured from his eyes and his fingertips. “Disabling weapons systems on The Argonaut.” His voice came out in monotone, but he barely noticed.
The vid screen displayed another pulse of energy from the Star Stream.
Ren bent in half, with his forehead on the console and his legs barely holding him up. “Disabling engines and sensors.”
Another wave shot out.
“Captain, the other ship is hailing us,” Penelope said. “They want to talk about cessation of hostilities.”
Ollie laughed. “Look who is ready to negotiate terms of surrender.”
“Ren,” Asher said again, “you’re done. Disengage. We’re safe now. You’ve done your job.”
Ren heard him, but kept his sweating palms flat against the metal. He shook his head; his forehead rolled on the console. Ren couldn’t trust the captain of the other ship. He could only trust himself and Asher. The words of advice Ren had spoken to Asher about having faith in others pinged in his memory. He shoved them aside.
“On screen,” Rowan said, sitting primly in her chair.
The captain of The Argonaut appeared in front of them. Frantic and terrified, he begged and pleaded with them to call off their technopath.
“I’ve never seen one so powerful,” he babbled. “And you have him loose!” His wide, frightened eyes stared at Ren, who was glowing. “How are you controlling him? Make him stop!”
Ren took a deep breath and ignored the stinging words.
Rowan ignored them as well. “Where is Abiathar?”