by F. T. Lukens
VanMeerten raised an eyebrow. She braced her hands on her desk, fingers spread. “What?”
“I want to go home,” Ren stated. “I don’t know how much simpler I can say it.”
“Ren,” Asher whispered harshly, but Ren ignored him.
“You don’t have a home. It was my understanding that your village was destroyed.”
Ren controlled his flinch and stood his ground. He pulled his spine straight and didn’t shrink from her gaze.
“Maybe, but I want to see for myself. You can’t keep me from going.”
She stood, hands gripping the edge of her desk, and loomed forward. “I can. And I will. Captain Morgan, I want you to turn your ship around immediately and bring this young man back to Mykonos.”
“No,” Ren said. “You will not, Captain.”
“Are you testing me, star host?”
“I have a name,” Ren said. He clenched his fists; anger rose hot and quick. Sparks flickered around his fingers. “I’m not a subject. I’m a person and I have a home.” His vision turned blue around the edges. “And I want to go back to my planet and find my family. You have no right to deny me.”
“I have every right. You are a threat, and it is my duty to protect—”
“I am not a threat!” The vid screen fluttered as static gathered at the corners. “I am a star host, and you cannot stop me. Your Phoenix Corps cannot stop me, and you know that.”
“Ren,” Asher said, his voice a low command. “You need to calm down. Your eyes are blue.”
“Stay out of this, Ash, especially if all you are going to do is take her side.” Ren pointed a shaking finger toward the vid screen. Asher crossed his arms and kept his expression flat, and Ren saw the connection between them turn to cinder. Good. He didn’t need Asher. It was better he didn’t have any emotional entanglements.
“I can see that this situation has gotten out of hand. I’ve allowed you too much freedom. I’m afraid I am going to have to call you back to Mykonos and, if you cannot control yourself, I will be forced to send you to the facility near the Perilous Space.”
Ren turned back to VanMeerten and stalked forward. “Do I need to remind you I disabled an entire ship with a thought? That I can make your weapons inert with barely a whisper? I can infect Mykonos Drift like a virus in a mere breath, and then where will you be? How can you protect your people from a power like mine?”
Ren hit a nerve. He could see it in the twitch of VanMeerten’s mouth, the worried wrinkle that appeared on her forehead, the almost imperceptible movement of her eyebrows.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Rowan said. She slammed her hand down on Ren’s shoulder and yanked him back. “Obviously, Ren here is a little homesick and a lot more space sick than we thought. General, the crew of the Star Stream will gladly take him back to Erden under the watchful eye of your very own corporal here after we finish this supply run. If you grant us this request, of course. I am sure you understand that with the extra mouths to feed on the ship, I need all the income available to me, even with the Corps’ generous stipend. I will personally see that Ren gets a good night’s sleep, drugged if needed as per your suggestion.” She gave Ren a shake as if he was a naughty puppy. “We’ll check in tomorrow, and you can give us your decision regarding the trip back to his planet. Until then, Morgan out.”
Asher lunged for the comm console and ended the transmission before the general could so much as blink.
Then Ren found himself pinned to the wall with Rowan’s forearm like iron across his chest and her face tilted up to stare right into his.
“What the stars has gotten into you?” she demanded, seeming utterly furious; her cheeks were pink. “Are you addled? Threatening the Corps? After what you did yesterday morning? Stars, Ren. I should shove you out the aft airlock right now after that stunt. Seriously. Taunting a general? You are going to end up in Perilous Space!”
Ren could barely breathe. His head thunked against the wall. He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t, not in front of Asher and Rowan and Millicent, but the tears burned in his eyes. He tried to blink them away, but they spilled down his cheeks in rivulets.
“And you!” she said, swinging around to thrust a finger into Asher’s chest, and thereby letting go so Ren could breathe again. “What the stars was that? I thought the plan was to protect Ren, not throw him to a black hole?”
“It needed to be said.”
“What is going on with you two?”
Asher stuck out his chin. “It needed to be reported for our own safety. Rowan, do you honestly think the Corps wouldn’t charge you with treason if they found out what’s been going on without us telling them? They’d take away your license to captain. Stars, they’d take away this ship! Are you willing to risk everyone’s home? Your livelihood?”
Rowan stared, astonished, mouth open. “What’s wrong with you? A few months ago you would’ve died for this kid and now you’re acting like you hardly know him.”
Asher crossed his arms. “Things change.”
Rowan threw up her hands. “That’s great. Just great. You’re both acting like your personalities were replaced when I wasn’t looking, like you’ve been swapped out.” She paused. “You haven’t been, have you?”
“No,” Ren said.
Asher rolled his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. Since I’ve met you I’ve seen things I didn’t know were possible. What’s body snatchers compared to transporting a ship across the cluster?” She tossed her long, golden braid over her shoulder. “What do we do now?”
“I need to go back to Erden,” Ren said softly. “I’m sorry, Rowan.” He was. He was so sorry. “I’m not myself. I don’t feel like myself.”
Her expression softened. “We’ll figure it out, Ren. But you can’t do that,” she said, sweeping her arm toward the vid screen. “Understand? You have a target on your back a league wide, and if you want to live, if you want to have any kind of freedom, you have to be on your best behavior.”
Ren bit his lip and nodded. He didn’t want to say anything about his supposed freedom. This wasn’t the moment. But he understood. Cogs, what had he done? “I understand.”
She touched his arm. “Good. Now, go do something and get out of my sight. I’m irritated just looking at you.”
With his eyes downcast, Ren nodded. He brushed passed Asher. Their shoulders touched, the tips of Ren’s fingers whispered over the back of Asher’s hand, and, for a split second, the components of Asher’s shoulder flashed in Ren’s mind. But the moment ended, and the feelings Ren had for Asher were mired in complications and regret.
Maybe it would be easier if Ren hadn’t formed such a strong bond with Asher in the beginning. Maybe if they hadn’t kissed; maybe if Ren hadn’t allowed himself the affection he had for Asher; maybe if Ren hadn’t fallen so quickly, so deeply, hadn’t counted on Asher and cared for Asher; maybe the thick tension between them wouldn’t seem so terrible.
In his heart, Ren wanted Asher’s friendship back. He wanted to explore their relationship. He wanted to hold hands and kiss and be together. And once he’d been certain Asher wanted that too. Ren wasn’t sure of that any longer. And stars, Ren couldn’t get past the fact he had traded one prison for another. Instead of a despotic baron, the organization to which Asher held the most allegiance was his captor.
Now, when Ren saw Asher, all he could see was another person who wanted to control and use him—and who had betrayed him.
It made panic and fear crawl into his throat and sweat break out along his skin. It made his heart stutter, and not in the way it should. Everything was wrong.
And there was no way to fix it.
3
Another day in space. Another dream.
Ren woke on the floor with cold sweat rolling down the nape of his neck as he panted; his breath fogged the deck plate. He didn’t know how he got there. He hadn�
��t woken when he’d jarred to the floor, but his fingers were pressed flat against the metal and his arms were tense, as though he had dragged himself there. No ship alarms sounded, but his door swung open. There stood Jakob and Asher, both in their sleeping clothes and both absolutely panicked.
Ren turned his head and regarded them with a hazy slitted gaze. Jakob was ashen; his brown hair was mussed and in disarray. Asher crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Ren with his jaw clenched. Neither breached the threshold, and that told Ren more than anything.
“What did you see?”
“Everything,” Asher said at the same time Jakob replied with, “Nothing.”
Jakob lied.
Ren nodded with his overheated cheek pressed to the cool floor. He stayed sprawled there for a long moment as his senses came out of the fog of the nightmare like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky.
“Did I do anything else?”
Jakob shot a glance to Asher. He licked his lips. “Not this time,” Jakob said, staring over Asher’s shoulder. “No turning off the artificial gravity. No trying to vent the ship. Not even the creepy woman’s voice over the comm telling stories. Just the… images on the vid screen.”
Ren gasped and nodded. “That’s good… that’s better.”
Asher’s mouth twisted.
“Yeah. Incident number six was way better than incident number five when you tried to suffocate us.”
Humor. Levity. Ren couldn’t bring himself to appreciate it.
“Good. That’s good. I’m glad.”
“Are you okay?” Jakob asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Liar,” Jakob said softly. He mustered a smile in Ren’s direction.
Asher merely frowned.
Ren waved them both away and pushed his aching body upright. He didn’t go far, but chose to remain on the floor, leaning against the lip of his bunk, with his legs crossed.
When he looked up, Jakob was gone, and Asher had stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
Ren sighed. Asher wanted to talk, and Ren’s insides ached with a fierce loneliness he hadn’t experienced since the first night in the cell of the Baron’s citadel. He didn’t want Asher’s words or his pity. And he didn’t want to relive the details of the nightmare, which had sent him twisting in his sheets and crawling across the floor. The sense memories clung to him, like cobwebs whose phantom threads, fluttery and strange and stubborn, brushed against his skin. The strands were infinite; they touched the deep places of Ren’s consciousness and burrowed down to his marrow to pull out the things that terrified him most.
He didn’t want to share the nightmare, but Asher’s flat countenance and sure gaze couldn’t hide his worry. It flashed in his eyes and ran in shaky tremors down the length of his crossed arms, as if he hugged himself to keep in his concerns and not as a defense to reflect whatever Ren had to throw at him.
Ren bent his knees, propped his arm up, and allowed his fingertips to dangle. Sweat flattened his hair against his temples. He regarded Asher coolly as Asher sat on the edge of Ren’s bunk.
“Do you remember when we went dancing?”
Asher blinked at the non-sequitur. “On Mykonos?”
Rowan had taken them dancing in a place with loud music and rotating lights. The beat had vibrated through Ren’s boots. “I had never been dancing like that before.”
Asher raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t bad. Well, not as bad as Jakob.”
“I liked the slow dance.” Asher had grabbed Ren in his arms and pulled him to the dance floor. They’d laughed and moved, and all Ren’s worries had dissolved in happiness and the rhythm of the music. “I liked being with you. With the crew. I miss that.”
“We’re here now, Ren.”
He shook his head. “No. You’re not. It’s different now.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
Ren looked away.
“Ren, you’re not okay,” he said flatly.
“No. I’m not, but I didn’t feel like broadcasting it.”
“It’s a little late for that,” Asher said softly. Ren’s stomach twisted. Asher had all but confirmed his latest nightmare had played on the vid screens. The crew had seen what Ren couldn’t remember, didn’t want to remember. “You’re getting worse. And they know it.”
Ren twisted his lips. “I’m aware the crew already knows. Pen can’t lie for anything.”
“Not them. The Corps.”
Ren rested his head on his knees. “You told her. You threw me to the wolves.”
“I had to.”
“Why? Do you want me to leave? Be locked away?”
“Stars, Ren. You know I don’t want that.”
“I don’t know what you want, to be honest. I don’t understand why you hold allegiance to them at all.”
“Because I have to. I promised five years.”
“You and your promises,” Ren said bitterly. That was loyalty Ren couldn’t understand, not after what the Corps had done to Asher, not after having left him for a year to rot in a cell on what they called a backwater planet. But Ren was beginning to realize there were things he would never understand and maybe wasn’t meant to.
“And I promised I’d keep you safe. Any way I could. This is the only way. Don’t you understand that?”
Ren felt the slight touch of Asher’s fingertips across the back of his hand. His star sparked and sought out the mechanism in Asher’s shoulder instinctually.
Asher shivered.
“There’s a fine line between safety and captivity.”
Asher tensed and frowned. “You think this is bad? Wait until you get yourself locked away in a real cell.”
Ren laughed. His laughter bordered on hysterical and it bubbled, harsh and loud, from his throat. “You think I don’t know? You think I want to spend my nights mired in dreams? You think I want any of this?”
Asher’s jaw creaked. “I don’t know. You’re certainly acting like you don’t care. What the hell was wrong with you yesterday in front of VanMeerten?”
“Me?” Ren asked, voice breaking. “You’re the one who ratted me out as being unstable.”
Avoiding Ren’s gaze, Asher studied the walls. “It needed to be done. I had to.”
Ren swallowed the hard lump in his throat. He narrowed his eyes, and the sense of being betrayed welled up fresh within him. It bled out from Ren’s core, like a tide, push-pulling its way through him until he was filled with it, until it was a torrent right under his skin.
“I never thought you would become the person I would need to fear.”
Asher whipped his head around and stared, his green eyes bright and furious, at Ren sitting on the floor. His skin turned red, and his mouth pulled into a taut, flat line. His voice quivered, though Ren didn’t know if it was due to fury or shock or both. “You’re afraid of me?”
Ren was hollow down to his bones. He didn’t have it within him to placate Asher, to reassure him. He listed to the side and allowed his head to thump against the pristine wall. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
Asher didn’t respond right away, and that was answer enough for Ren.
It seemed Asher didn’t have the humor to respond with his usual, “of a stick like you?” or, “of a duster? Never.”
All the levity that had marked their relationship had been sucked out and replaced with an uneasy truce, which included secrets, tense silences, and duplicity.
Ren rubbed his face. “I can’t do this.”
“I know.”
“I don’t trust you.”
Asher’s eyes turned sad. “I know,” he said again softly.
Ren flexed his fingers and kept eyes down. “You were my anchor and now… I’m drifting.”
“I know that, too. You have to… find someone else.”
“Are you tellin
g me to give up on us?” Ren dragged his gaze up to meet Asher’s.
Asher wouldn’t meet his eyes. He picked at his sleep trousers, worrying a thread between his thumb and forefinger. “Yes.”
This moment had been inevitable. Ren had begun to dread it over the last few days and, now it was here, he was oddly relieved. He had imagined the feeling would be akin to a punch to the chest. Ren had envisioned that if he were standing, he would’ve gone weak-kneed and fallen to the deck plate, doubled over and clutching at his heart, barely able to breathe. But he was sitting, with his legs bent, his chin resting on his knees, his feet flat on the floor. It wasn’t nearly as dramatic. In fact, the pain was more like a throb than a stab, and even that was pitiful compared to what Ren’s thoughts had conjured.
“Oh,” Ren breathed. He knotted his fingers in his shirt. All traces of his earlier anger fled, and he was left with a numbness that settled into his middle. “I guess that’s it, then.”
“I guess it is.” Asher stood. “Ren,” he started, looking down on Ren’s hunched form, “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m doing everything I can. Even if I can’t be your tether, I’m going to follow through on my promises. All of them.”
And there was the dagger-sharp pain Ren had been waiting for. It came wrapped in familiar language and concern, in a combination of truth and lies and pity. It sliced through Ren, making his eyes sting and his hands tremble.
“Please go,” he said, blinking.
Asher nodded. “Report in an hour,” he said. “If you’re up for it. I can cover for you, maybe, if you’d rather–”
“I’ll be there,” Ren said his voice was a whisper. He shook his head, cleared his throat, and willed himself to be stronger. “I’ll be there. I don’t want to arouse suspicion, especially after last time. So I’ll be there.”
“All right. Ren, I–”
“Please leave.” Ren squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to hear any more.
Asher didn’t hesitate, and Ren heard his slow footsteps as he crossed the room. He paused at the threshold, but, to Ren’s relief, didn’t say anything and left, softly closing the door behind him.