by F. T. Lukens
“Oh, my stars, I’m going to die. I’m getting back on the ship.” Lucas pulled his goggles down over his nose. “Or I’m going to throw up.”
Rowan shot him a clearly annoyed look, but waved him back. Penelope went with him, not waiting for permission, and, once they disappeared into the ship, the doors to the Star Stream closed tight. Ren’s chest pricked when the on-board air recyclers kicked on high.
Millicent stepped daintily along the platform and walked across to the center tower. She hit the button for the lift and waited; she tapped her foot, and the hem of her dress caught on the laces of her boots. “Home,” she said simply.
Crei was not green, as Ren learned. Crei was covered in metal, concrete, and factories that spit smoke in the air. Black tendrils curled through the atmosphere and blotted out the orange and pink sky. The world smelled like ash, and the air tasted like metal; the bite of it was sharp on Ren’s tongue.
Ren followed on Millicent’s heels, as did the others, and slipped through the doors of the lift. The lift sat in a cylinder in the middle of the landing tower. It descended quickly, and Ren grabbed onto the wall and pushed his star into the mechanisms to slow it down.
Millicent shot him a look, but with half of their group turning green from the smell, a quick drop would probably end in vomit. The lift went down and down and down, and with the descent the temperature dropped.
Ren had learned his lesson on Erden and wore a thick jacket, but he tugged it closed and fastened it as they continued.
“Are we underground?” Rowan shivered.
Millicent didn’t answer.
Asher absently rubbed his shoulder. “I read that most of the populace lives in underground tunnels due to the pollution. Most of Crei’s surface is uninhabitable.”
The corner of Ollie’s mouth lifted. “You read?”
Asher crossed his arms. “You’re lucky I do.”
The lift reached the end of its run, and Ren detangled from the system. When the door opened, there was a crowd waiting. Ren squeezed past bodies to get out of the lift before it went up again. Ollie grabbed his arm and pulled, and Ren popped out before the doors closed.
“What the weeds?”
Millicent rolled her head. “Personal space is not a concept here.” She shuddered and craned her neck to look toward the ceiling.
She was right. Now Ren understood why she had volunteered for Vos’s vision, at least on one level. Hands roamed over Ren’s body, elbows jutted into his sides, shoulders brushed his chest and arms. He shrank into himself and pushed the more aggressive hands off, pressing close to Ollie’s side. Ollie’s size and the look on his face kept the people back, but even with the occasional force of a shove they couldn’t go far.
Crei’s underground was packed to the walls with people. Where there wasn’t a person, there was a transport, or a vendor stall, or a pillar which shot up from the concrete ground to support the roof. Parts of the tunnel were concrete slab, others were metal, and a few walls were natural carved rock. There was no view of the sky, and if there had been a viewing portal, Ren wouldn’t have been able to see the stars through the ever-present haze.
“Watch for pickpockets,” Rowan said, smacking the hands of a man away from her pulse gun. “And creeps.”
“Is there anywhere to get personal space?”
Millicent cocked her head, her eyes narrowed. “Space is expensive.”
“I don’t care,” Rowan said. “I need to find our contact and I can’t do it without getting my bearings.”
Millicent nodded. “Follow me.” A creature fluent in the living pulse of the underground society, she moved through the crowd. Her movements were a dance, and, try as he might, Ren couldn’t copy it; he bumped into almost every person he passed. Ollie, a familiar presence within the heaving mass, walked at his back. Once, they were jostled apart, and Asher snapped his hand out and grabbed Ren’s wrist to pull him back to the group. They didn’t make eye contact, and as soon as Ren was back with the others Asher dropped his hand as if burned.
It took an eternity to walk a few yards to where Millicent stopped in front of a chained-off entrance. Ren heard the hum of a light source inside and stepped closer to look around the frame. He touched the chain, and it blared an alarm and flashed a red warning light.
Ren jumped back, startled.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “What do we do?”
“Slide your credit chip.” Millicent pointed to a reader near the end of the chain.
Rowan rooted down into her trouser pocket and yanked out a chip. She held it in front of the reader. It scanned, and then the chain dropped to the ground. Millicent skittered across and the rest of them followed. A second later, the barrier yanked back up.
“I don’t like this place,” Ollie said.
“I don’t think anyone does.” Asher said, arms crossed. “What do we do now? How are we going to find anyone in this mass of people?”
“Well, we’ve bought space. Let’s go talk it out.”
They shuffled into the building and found a large lounge with sofas and chairs. Radiation lamps in the ceiling provided artificial sunlight. Ren basked in the warmth and stretched out his arms in the empty air. In the entire space, there were only two others, and one of them obviously worked there—he carried a tray of drinks.
They found a couch and a couple of chairs and sat.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Rowan muttered. “I’m certain I’m being charged by the minute.”
“We should go back to the ship,” Asher said. “We’re not going to find anything down here and we’re wasting money.”
“We’re not backing out of the deal we made, despotic governments or not. These are the coordinates we were given, so our contact is here somewhere.”
Ollie stretched back onto the plush cushions and straightened his legs. “It’s pretty coggin’ genius if you think about it.”
“Think about what?” Asher asked.
“Vos. Coming here.”
Asher sighed and leaned forward. “No, I think it’s coggin’ stupid. There’s no room for a base or an army or a training ground in these tunnels. There’s no tactical advantage here.”
Ollie shook his head. “You have a populace full of people who probably want to escape this polluted, cramped planet and would be willing to sign up for any insane cause to do so,” he said, nodding at Millicent. She merely blinked. “You have tunnels and a mass of humanity to hide in. And didn’t you say the populace lives mostly underground? That leaves an entire deserted surface for a training ground and a base of operation.”
“He’s on the surface,” Rowan said. “Cogs. He’s on the surface. Coming down here was a bad idea.”
“No,” Ren said, leaning on his bent knees. “This is perfect. On Erden, there was a message emanating from a beacon, and I found it without even trying. If Millicent could show us a place to go up, and I could have a comm of some sort, I could find him.”
Rowan looked doubtful. “This isn’t a small planet, Ren. Do you think you could really scan the surface and locate him? It’s like finding a speck among asteroids.”
“I transported a ship across a cluster. I can disable weapons with a glance and turn them against their owners with a thought. I can find a signal.”
“And what are you going to do when you find it?” Asher asked. He pierced Ren with a hard gaze. “Arrest him? Talk to him? Join him?”
Ren narrowed his eyes. “He might have information about my brother.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“I will walk away.”
“Are you sure?” Asher said, tone dark. “You believe Nadie’s words. She said not to seek him out, if you remember. She said not to follow—” he stopped and cut his gaze to Millicent.
“The past is fixed, but I can influence the future.”
Asher rolled his eyes. “
You’re naïve.”
“And you’re a jerk.”
“Stop it. Both of you.” Rowan’s gaze bored into Ren’s. He stared back, unflinching; their conversation about Asher echoed between them. “Ollie and I will find the merchant for the tech. You, Asher, and Millicent will find a way to track the signal. Nothing more. Understood? I don’t want you going off on your own without Ollie and me.”
Ren wanted to protest. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but Ollie slapped his shoulder. “Trust us. We’ve got your back.”
Ren swallowed. “Okay.”
“Meet us at the dock for dinner. Ship’s time.” She pointed a finger at Asher, then at Ren. “Keep each other safe. Don’t eat or drink anything you’re unsure of. Don’t get involved with anything other than what you’re here to do, and, for the love of the stars, don’t do anything stupid.”
Asher frowned, but nodded.
Rowan and Ollie left together. Rowan sauntered out, straightening her clothes and checking her weapon before leaving the building and going beyond the chain. Ollie was right behind her, and he tossed a wave and a grin over his shoulder before disappearing.
Ren sat stiff in his chair. The awkward silence was stifling, and he would’ve preferred the cacophony beyond the rope. Asher continued to frown. Millicent sat blankly.
“So,” Ren started.
Millicent abruptly stood. “I know a place.”
She tiptoed her way to the door and Ren scrambled to follow with Asher next to him. They bumped shoulders. Asher glared. Ren’s heart sank. Rowan’s fierce words rang in Ren’s ears.
This was going to be impossible.
* * *
Millicent led them to a row of turnstiles. She flitted to one, trailed her fingers along the mechanism, and made it turn. Ren followed, using a tendril of power to allow him to pass. He did the same for Asher, and then the three of them were on a platform with a transport in front of them.
“This way,” Millicent said.
The doors opened. A stream of people piled out of the train, and Millicent squirmed between them, hopping on. Ren and Asher made it through as the doors slid closed; the back of Ren’s jacket caught between them. He tugged it free, bumped into several people, and stammered apologies as he made his way to Millicent.
“Where are we going?” Ren asked, grabbing for the pole next to him as the transport lurched forward.
Millicent half-smiled. “To the end of the line.”
“And how long will that take?” Asher shuffled closer to Ren as a few people moved to empty seats. Ren did his best not to lean into him.
“A while.”
13
By the time the transport pulled to a screeching stop hours later, Ren, Millicent, and Asher were the only ones left in the car save for an individual stretched along the back wall asleep. Millicent stepped to the door and waited for it to open. A comm crackled to life, and the conductor’s voice filled the metal tube, issuing a warning.
“This is the end of the line. Proceed at your own risk. These tunnels are exposed to the atmosphere. This transport will now return to base.”
The doors slid jerkily open. They stepped out. The station was dark, but not abandoned. A few people milled around the space. A few boarded the train, and others wandered, talking to people, dragging boxes and sacks of items. They wore goggles and fabric tied tightly around their noses and mouths. They had hats or head coverings, and their clothes covered them from neck to toes, even their hands.
“Scavengers from the surface,” Millicent whispered.
“Should we be dressed like that?” Ren asked.
“We’ll be fine,” she said, leading them across the station and into another tunnel.
Ren exchanged a glance with Asher. Asher shrugged and brushed past him, following Millicent farther into the dark.
Ren sighed. They were definitely not making it back to the Star Stream in time for dinner. Rowan would be furious.
They walked for several meters and the air became thicker, heavier. Ren squinted and saw spots of natural light beaming in through cracks in the ceiling. Pulling up the collar of his shirt, Ren placed it over his mouth and nose as they ventured deeper. The smell gradually became oppressive, as it had been on the landing pad, and Asher’s face grew more pinched the farther they went..
Ren settled into his power, allowed it to flood through him, and probed the surrounding area, looking for whatever Millicent was leading them to. It didn’t take him long to figure it out.
“I feel it,” he said. He walked faster, jogged ahead of Millicent and Asher.
He sensed it. Pulsing with power and electricity, the blueprint was mapped out in front of him. It was a communications tower. Its roots dug into the earth, connected to an underground grid which stretched for miles and miles, but that wasn’t what Ren needed. He spiraled upward, up and up, tendrils clamoring over each other, sizzling toward Crei’s polluted sky.
Ren skidded to a stop in front of a ladder attached to the wall. He jumped onto the first rung and heaved his body up each step, heedless of Asher and Millicent calling behind him.
He wasn’t strong enough to hoist the heavy metal cover off the access hole, but it was cracked and large chunks were missing. The holes were large enough for Ren to squeeze through. His clothes caught on jagged edges, but he wiggled until he pushed through the tunnel to the planet’s surface.
He gagged, even through the fabric of his shirt. He shielded his eyes from the sun crackling through the smog, seeming to light it on fire, and creating waves of heat that shimmered in the distance. He pulled free and stood on the ground with orange ash and gravel and dust beneath the heels of his boots. He stood at the foot of the tower, a black hunk of metal rising from the surface, stark against the sky. But as he stood there, craning his neck skyward, he was also in the tower, streaking to the top and into the console, which was soaked in the noise of the planet.
Sound moved through him in waves, crashing over him like foam and spray in the lake. It was overwhelming at first, as though he had inhaled water—wrong and painful. But after a moment, he was able to filter the information, layer upon layer, siphoning out the relevant. He sorted through thousands of communications in a second. They burst through him, into his blood, into his bones, and then were propelled into the world. He was a conduit of information, of power, of light, of plans and messages.
He didn’t realize Asher and Millicent had joined him until Asher’s hand ghosted over his shoulder and Millicent’s fingers brushed his. And then she was present with him, there in the tower. Her own star signature was a touch, a brush, against his, familiar from all their time in the Star Stream together.
And while Ren sorted and devoured information and was consumed by the funnel of communications, she rifled and hovered. He stacked, and she shoved; his organization fluttered around them like paper.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking.”
“You’re not helping.”
She ignored him, flitting around him like a gnat. She burst through another set of information, disrupting Ren’s process, but when she did, Ren caught a sound.
He turned his head, saw Crei awash in blue, and listened.
“What do you hear?” Millicent demanded.
Ren shushed her.
Vos’s voice rang in his ears, familiar and discomfiting. He dug through the static and the encryption—Vos was more careful here than he’d been on Erden—until he found the words. “Regroup on the west abandoned line. Beneath the holy ruins…”
Ren didn’t hear the rest of the message. He was cut off, then forcibly shoved out of the system. Millicent pushed and sparked, ejecting him. Gasping, gagging, his head pounding with pain, Ren fell to his knees with his fingers curling in the rough dirt.
“Ren! Ren, what happened?”
Ren clutched a hand over his mouth
as he shivered with sweat and his stomach heaved. He bent over, elbows scraping along the ground.
Asher followed him down. “What’s going on?”
“Millicent,” he gasped. “She pushed me out. We found a message and she…” Bile rose in Ren’s mouth, and his stomach clenched.
Above him, Millicent swayed, eyes glowing, face blank.
“Ren? Are you okay?”
Ren pulled his shirt from his face and spat. Stars, he felt awful, as if a sudden illness had overtaken his body. His star curled trembling in his chest.
Millicent had done this to him before. On Mykonos, when she was under Abiathar’s power, when she was more star than human, before Asher was able to break her free. She had the ability to force Ren from the systems. Was she able to pull him in as well? Was she the other one Liam had alluded to in their shared dream? The one who dragged him under water, into the ship, during his dreams?
Ren blinked. Their plan hadn’t worked. She hadn’t disconnected when she left the ship, as Ren had. There was too much tech on Crei, and now Millicent was home, where she had learned to control her star.
“Oh, no,” he said.
Millicent’s gaze snapped to him, eyes blazing blue, and then she shuddered. She shook; her long hair tossed every which way. She stopped and stood still.
Asher moved toward her.
“Don’t touch her,” Ren said. “She’ll hurt you.”
Asher absently touched his shoulder. “Millicent,” Asher said softly, “what do you call—”
Millicent turned on her heel and ran. From one moment to the next she went from standing like a statue to sprinting over the barren surface of the planet.
Ren jumped to his feet and sped across the dead landscape, darting through half-broken buildings and flat, barren red land. She was faster; her trick had left Ren weak and stumbling as she leapt over obstacles with her dark hair flying behind her. Ren sucked in the metallic air, coughing and sputtering. The bite was horrible. It burned his throat and chest. He gagged again and bent over with his hands on his knees as he spat out the taste.