by F. T. Lukens
“No pressure.” No pressure but the possibility of another capture. No pressure except the fate of this crew, his family. No pressure except that Asher’s rescue lay beyond his reach unless he could save them first. No pressure. Ren’s anxiety ticked up. His heart beat in his ears.
Ren clenched his eyes shut and listened for Lucas’s retreating footsteps. Once they’d faded, he dove into the ship’s systems and pulled the stopper that held back the full force of his power. His star flooded through him, filled him with warmth and light, and electricity crackled through his veins, played over his skin, dripped from his fingers in torrents of white and blue light. Energy flowed from him to the ship and from the ship into him. He poured into the nav system and followed the directions Lucas had left behind.
Ren’s hair stood on end. The air sizzled. Blue frizzles of power gathered in the corners of the bridge. Ren pushed and pushed. He grunted and gritted his teeth. Willing the coordinates, he overwhelmed the system, bent the physics of travel and space and time. The star pulsed under his skin and slammed into the ship, into the circuits. Ren’s bones creaked. His muscles burned. His throat scorched on a yell.
A blast of light and sound rocketed from the Star Stream, and everything dissolved into blinding white.
* * *
Ren woke to the sound of water lapping gently at the shore. Water tickled the bottom of his feet and dampened the cuffs of his trousers. Cracking his eyes open, Ren turned his head and was greeted by the sight of waves bleeding up the smooth bank of the beach. His fingers curled into the wet sand; particles dug under his fingernails. His clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin in the humidity.
Ren sat up. The low-slung sun cast sparkles on the water, and he squinted against the riotous orange and pink hemorrhaging across the horizon. His head pounded. His mouth was dry. His body ached. He pulled his knees to his chest and hunched forward, dug his toes into the beach, and sighed as cold foam washed over them.
“What the weeds happened to you?”
Ren straightened and craned his neck. “Liam?”
A boy stood next to Ren’s shoulder. It sounded like Liam, but it didn’t look like him. The Liam he knew had a full face and red hair and freckles. This person who sat down next to him had hollow cheeks free of baby fat, and was pale, as if he had never seen the sun. His red hair sat limply on his forehead, and the once-vibrant fire color had faded to resemble a dying leaf. He wore a beige outfit, like the medical scrubs Ren had awakened in, and they swallowed his frame.
Ren inhaled sharply, then coughed. “Liam?”
Knees bent to his chest, arms loosely wrapped around them in a mirror of Ren’s pose, the person beside him turned his head and blinked.
“Who else would it be?”
Ren moved quickly, and his head spun, but that didn’t stop him from tackling Liam to the sand. He hugged his brother as they tumbled over each other and laughed. Liam thumped him on the back and chuckled in Ren’s ear; his voice was lower than Ren remembered.
They stopped rolling, and Ren shoved Liam off. He pulled away and held Liam by the shoulders at arm’s length. His grin split his face; his cheeks hurt. “You look so different.”
“So do you.” Liam grinned. He ran his hand over Ren’s head. “I like it.”
Ren pushed Liam’s shoulder, and Liam playfully smacked his hand away.
Settling next to his brother so their shoulders touched, Ren stared out over the water. “Is this a dream?”
Liam snorted. “Obviously.”
“Good, I wasn’t sure.”
Eyebrows raised, Liam frowned. “Why?”
“I think I may have just done something stupid. I can’t really remember what happened but… I don’t remember falling asleep.”
“Well, you are. If you were anything else, you couldn’t be here.”
Ren pushed his fingers into the sand. The grains, warm from the sun, rubbed over his skin. “I always dream about this lake.” Ren frowned, remembering his visit to Erden. “I hate this lake.”
Chuckling, Liam knocked shoulders. “I’m doing this. Not you. And stop it. You love this lake.”
“I did. Not now.”
“Ah, too good for us dusters now that you’re on a spaceship? Have you become a full spacer?”
Ren huffed a laugh. “Not quite.”
“Good.” Liam slung his arm over Ren’s shoulders. “Just because you’ve changed doesn’t mean you can’t look back at your past with a little fondness.”
That sounded parroted. Not like Liam at all. Unease pricked at Ren’s nape. “How mature.”
“I talked with Mom,” Liam said, expression sheepish. “She told me about your visit and how things ended.”
Ren stiffened. “You can enter her dreams?”
“It’s easier with other star hosts. And I get it. You’re mad because she didn’t tell us. Especially you. They set you up for a life you didn’t want. I’m sorry about that.”
Rubbing his brow, Ren relaxed under Liam’s arm. “I would’ve told you I saw them, but I didn’t think you’d understand.”
“I’m your brother. I’ve known you my whole life. Of course, I understand. It weeding sucks.”
“Then you understand why I’m never going back, right?”
Liam’s mouth tightened. “Yeah.”
Ren hid his wince. Liam wanted to go back. He had never wanted to leave. Was he thinking about how he might not step on soil again? Was he thinking about how he might not hug his parents? Or dunk his brother in the lake again? Even if Ren could find him, he might not be able to rescue him.
Liam cleared his throat. He unwound his arm from Ren’s shoulders and picked up a stray shell. He shook off the clinging sand. “I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks. I thought… well…” He furrowed his brow, and his throat bobbed. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. I guess I was wrong.”
Ren grimaced. “I was… incapacitated.” He squinted against the bright sun and noticed how it had stalled on the horizon. “I was injured.”
“Understatement. Was it her? That other one?”
“Yes. You warned me about her. I should’ve known.”
Liam shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. This power thing is still new. I’m learning the nuances. But your dreams always seemed… off… when she was near you.”
“She was influencing me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know she could do that.”
Liam nodded. “I don’t know the depths of what I am capable of. Do you?”
That was a sobering question. “No. I don’t. And I don’t know if I want to.” Ren met Liam’s gaze. “Do you know where you are? Are they still monitoring you?”
Liam’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I don’t know where I am. And no, they can’t monitor me. They never could.” He sighed; his gaze dropped to his hands where he played with the shell. “When I woke up here, I was scared. I was scared they would kill me if I wasn’t useful. They heavily implied it. So, I did what they told me to. I went into people’s dreams and drew out information and fed it to the guys that brought me food. I thought they would know if I lied or if I couldn’t reach the people they wanted. But after being here a while, I’ve realized, they can’t follow me here.” He swept his hand toward the lake. “If those weeds knew how to dream-walk, then they wouldn’t need me. They’re not going to kill me. They don’t know if what I tell them is true or not. I keep it vague and give them kernels of truth, but never the whole.” He squinted, his green eyes narrowing against the suspended setting sun. “I don’t know who they are, but I know I’m not helping them anymore.” He threw the shell into the lake. It skipped once, twice, three times, but instead of plunging into the water, it kept bobbing across the surface, disappearing into the infinite.
Ren swallowed. “It’s the Phoenix Corps. I saw your name in their files.”
Liam’s eyebrows ticked up. “Do you know where I am?”
“No.” Ren shook his head. “I didn’t get a chance to find out. But I won’t stop looking. I promise.”
Liam smiled fully. “I have to go.” Liam stood and wiped the sand from his pants. “You’re going to wake up soon.”
Ren hopped to his feet. The lake wavered. The sky thinned. The trees flicked out of existence one by one. Sand disappeared from his fingers. “I’ll see you again?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
They hugged, and Ren squeezed Liam tightly. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, big brother.” Liam pulled away. And it was his turn to hold Ren at arm’s length and look him over. “Promise me, Ren. If you have a chance to run away, to be safe, to live a life. Take it. Don’t put yourself in danger for me.”
“I can’t promise that.”
Liam shook his head. “It was worth a try.” He punched Ren in the arm before walking away. “Don’t be a weed,” he called over his shoulder. His body slowly became transparent.
“Take care,” Ren called back.
Liam waved, and the dream fizzled out.
4
Ren startled to wakefulness. Sprawled on the deck near the nav system, he lifted his head. The crew stood around him. They stared at him with varying degrees of concern or, in Darby’s case, open wonder. They seemed unharmed, which filled Ren with relief.
“Did I do it?”
Ollie’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Are you okay?”
“You passed out.” Penelope knelt by his side and took his hand in hers. She pushed two fingers against his wrist, where Ren’s pulse thudded hard under the thin skin. “It’s a disturbing trend.”
Eyes squinted, Darby peered at him as if he was a bug under glass. Rowan pushed her back. “Give him room and a minute. Are you okay, Ren?”
Ren opened his mouth, then shut it. He wasn’t sure, but that wasn’t what he was worried about. “Did I do it? Did I transport us?”
“Yeah,” Lucas rubbed a hand through his hair, knocking his goggles askew. “You did it. But uh… when I said to shoot for Bara, I meant the general vicinity.”
Pushing up onto his elbows, Ren squirmed away from Penelope. Ollie grabbed his arm, helped Ren to his feet, and held him steady. His head spun. Pushing the heel of his palm to his forehead, he looked through the vid screen. But he could see nothing but a blanket of black. “How badly did I mess up? I didn’t hurt the ship, did I?”
Lucas laughed nervously. “Of course not. You didn’t hurt the ship. I don’t think you are capable of damaging it. You’re like best friends.”
“Then what did—”
“You put us on the planet!” Darby’s eyes were wide. Her fists clenched at her sides. “Your terrifying science-magic transported us and now we’re on a planet, you freak!”
Ren winced. “Oh.”
“How is that possible?” She waved her arms. “You shouldn’t be able to do that. No one should be able to do that. How did you bend physics? How did we jump in time and space? Why are the rest of you not freaking out?”
Rowan crossed her arms. Lucas shrugged. Penelope pursed her lips.
Ollie chuckled, the sound low and deep. “You get used to it.”
“You get used to it?” Darby’s voice went shrill.
“I put us in a forest?”
“If that’s a cluster of green things, then yes. That’s where you put us.” Lucas patted Ren’s shoulder. “Good job.”
“On Bara?”
“Yeah.”
Ren’s gaze flitted back to the screen.
“It’s the planet’s night time,” Rowan said by way of explanation. “It doesn’t help that there is a canopy of green things above us that’s blocking out the light. We had to open the aft airlock to sneak a peek while you were passed out. Not only did you drop us on the planet, you made sure we are well hidden.”
Ren rubbed his hands over his face. “I guess that’s good.”
“It’s amazing, considering our hopeful expectations were that we wouldn’t blow up.” Lucas grinned. Penelope smacked him in the arm.
“Why don’t we have a bite to eat and rest. And we’ll figure out our next move once it’s morning on this planet. Whenever that might be.”
The group agreed with Penelope, and, with Ollie lending a shoulder, Ren followed the crew to the common room.
* * *
“I talked to my brother,” Ren said, when only he, Ollie, and Rowan were left in the common room. Rowan stopped drying a dish, and Ollie looked up from the box of broken tech. He handed Ren a burned-out part to an air-recycling system.
“When?” Rowan asked. She placed the dish on a stack. It clinked against the others with more force than she’d been using.
“When I was asleep. He came to me in a dream.”
She nodded. “Did he tell you anything?”
Ren turned the tech over in his hands, frowning at the blackened wires and broken relays. He prodded it with his star and realized the energy to fix it wouldn’t be worth it.
“He doesn’t know where he is, but I saw his name when I looked through the files on Phoebus. There was a list of people like me. My name was there, which is how I found Asher’s location. There was also a death certificate.” Ren’s voice dropped on the last part. He ghosted his hand over his wound. Pain and fire danced along the edges of his senses, the report of the shot echoed in his ears, and the memory of metal on his tongue filled his mouth.
“I guess you didn’t get a look at your brother’s location?” Ollie took the part from Ren’s lax grip and switched it for a salvageable one.
Ren shook his head; the memories fell away. “No. I didn’t. But the Corps has him. That I know for certain.”
Rowan rinsed out a cup. “He wasn’t on Crei with Vos. He wasn’t on Erden at your village or the refugee location.”
“Vos never had him.”
“The Corps could have him stashed anywhere.” Ollie dug around in the box. “They were on Erden. They were on Crei. They’re here on Bara. Who knows what other planets they’ve set up on? Or what they’re doing here.”
“We’ll ask Asher that question when we get him back.” Rowan finished with the dishes and dropped the towel on the counter near the sink. She leaned back against it, facing them, her elbows behind her. “I’m sure he’s been doing his own reconnaissance, that selfless cog.”
Ren’s vision went blue as he repaired the mobile comm system Ollie handed him. His stomach twisted at the mention of Asher’s self-sacrifice. “I’m sure he has.”
“Liam could be in Perilous Space.” Ollie shrugged. “Isn’t that where they took that general?”
Rowan scoffed. “They wouldn’t put a child in Perilous Space.”
“He’s sixteen now. Not so much a child anymore. And they would if they thought he was a danger to them,” Ren said, frowning at the thought. It’s what they had threatened him with after all. Ren had perceived their threats to ship him off to prison as having to do with Ren’s potential for misconduct because of his technopathic ability. It was the technopaths they had gone to war with so long ago. Now, Ren knew they thought all star hosts had equal potential for uprising and treason.
Perilous Space made startling sense. Ferret out the star hosts living on the planets and shuttle them off to a place where they would be isolated and, in theory, wouldn’t be able to start trouble. Abiathar was already there, and he was dangerous around other star hosts since he could coerce them to do things against their will. Unless… he’d been subdued.
Liam wasn’t subdued because the Corps needed him to gather intelligence.
“He has to be there.”
Rowan pushed off from the sink. “You thought he was on Erden, and he wasn’t. Then you thought he was on Crei, and he wasn’t. I don’t think we’re going to risk going to Perilous Space to find out he’s not there either.”
>
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Ren said. He drew his eyebrows together. “Not there.”
“We’ll find Ash first. And then we’ll decide what we’re doing from there. Ren, we can’t fight every battle. We’re not equipped to save the cluster.”
Ren half-smiled. “I know.”
“Good. And even if we could, is it really our place? What obligation do we hold to these people?”
Ren shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Neither do I. I only know how to take care of my family, and that’s what I’m going to do. Idiot dusters included.” She rubbed a hand over his head. “I miss ruffling your hair.”
Ren ducked his head and blushed. He accepted another piece of tech from Ollie and focused on the circuits and the mechanisms as Rowan left the common area.
Rowan was right. The Star Stream and her crew were not equipped to save the cluster. Stars, they were barely equipped to save themselves. But he was. He was power and light, and he would fight until Asher was safe, he would fight until his brother was safe, and he wouldn’t stop until Vos and the Phoenix Corps couldn’t tear any more families apart, couldn’t use the people of the cluster and the planets for their own gain ever again.
* * *
When the sun came up after a few hours, the light barely filtered through the thick foliage that surrounded them. Ren thought he’d dropped the ship in the middle of a forest. He was wrong. These weren’t the trees he was used to on Erden: tall, thin evergreens filled with needles, and deciduous trees with leaves that would turn bright red and gold in the autumn. These weren’t the smooth laurels of the refugee camp where his family had fled.
These trees were clumped together, breaking out of the ground, then twisting toward the light, tangling with the canopy overhead. Thick, green vines wrapped and climbed the trees and hung, webbing them together, while large spiky fronds sieved the light between their spindles. Roots bubbled up from the ground in intricate networks, and moss clung to every surface of rock and bark. The canopy spread above, a barrier between them and the sky. In the spaces where light reached the ground, dense vegetation grew, filled with thorns and leaves bigger than a full-grown human. Wild birds called to each other with shrill voices and fluttered with vibrant plumage from perch to perch. Small animals scampered in the brush.