by F. T. Lukens
“If she ditched him,” Ollie said, “what if he could be persuaded to our side?”
“I wouldn’t trust him at all.”
“No. I wouldn’t either. But he’s not evil. He’s misguided, yes, and grandiose. But he had a goal and a purpose. Millicent has neither.” Asher glanced around. The guards weren’t paying them any attention. “If she’s building an empire without him, what would be the last thing she’d want?”
Ren perked up. “The prisoners from Perilous Space released. Not only is Abiathar there, and he could regain control over her, but there might be someone else there who could challenge her.”
“Also, you,” Asher said, gripping Ren’s hand. “With you gone, she’s pretty much invincible. And if you’re processed here, and she finds out…”
“I’m dead. Again.”
“Cut the power,” Darby said. “Then we can run. Or you take over the drift. You can do that, can’t you?”
Ren winced. “I could, but…”
“Millicent makes Ren sick.” Ollie coughed into his fist when one of the guards looked back.
“What do you mean sick?”
Ren crinkled his nose. “Her power affects me physically. It’s… not good.”
“Great.”
The group stopped in front of a lift and waited. The conversation was suspended for the time being. They crowded in and went up several floors in tense silence.
The energy and the signatures of the weapons thudded under Ren’s skin. He could disable them. Then they could run. To where? Rowan was already gone. All the docks were monitored. And surely Millicent had planted traps in the systems. She could incapacitate him, and then where would they be?
Wrapping his arms around his middle, Ren bent forward at the thought of the way Millicent could pull him in and push him out and how it affected his body.
“Hey.” The leader pushed his prod into Ren’s shoulder. “Is he okay? He looks sick.”
Asher draped his arm over Ren’s shoulders. “He’s fine.”
“He doesn’t look it.”
“What happened to the Corps on this drift?” Asher changed the subject away from Ren. He tilted his head and eyed their weapons. “I don’t expect they gave up the drift willingly.”
“Some did,” he answered with a shrug. “When they saw what our divine leader could do with a blink of her beautiful, glowing eyes, they laid down their weapons. Those that didn’t were vented.”
Asher’s expression didn’t betray him, but he his grip on Ren’s shoulders tightened.
They were spared any further conversation when the bell dinged and the doors opened. They shuffled out, and Ren received a push in the back when he didn’t move fast enough. He stumbled into Darby and apologized.
They approached the processing center. A large black drape flapped over the Phoenix Corps symbol that blazed from the top of the entrance. The red phoenix rising from ashes with wings spread shone through the thin fabric despite the attempt to hide it, and its imposing figure burned across the whole floor. Orange and red symbolic flames rose and curled on either side of the archway. Ren was reminded of the fire that lit the sky on Bara as they fled the Phoenix Corps encampment.
“I could do it.” Ren fluttered his eyes shut. “I could do it. Shut it all down and take over.”
“You’re not. We’ll just have to escape without…” Asher rolled his eyes upward. “…using freaky science-magic.”
Ollie snickered.
Darby looked around the area. She spied something and her frown bloomed into a crooked smirk. Her dark eyes lit up. “I got this, fellas. Leave it to me.”
“Four for processing,” the leader said to a woman at a large reception desk. She wore matching body armor but no helmet. Her dark hair was in a messy knot at the top of her head, and her nails clicked on the equipment as she typed. Dark makeup lined her eyes, and two bright violet circles colored her cheeks. She scanned the leader’s data pad with a wand and huffed as she spun in her chair and hovered to a data screen.
The leader pointed his weapon toward a row of seats in a waiting area and addressed the group. “Wait over there.”
Asher raised an eyebrow, but they walked over, his arm still draped across Ren’s shoulders.
“Got that plan yet?” he asked Darby.
Darby grinned. “Oh, yeah.” She lifted her chin at the guard-acting-receptionist. “That one is the mark.”
“Why that one?”
“For as dim as the ones who picked us up on the dock are, the ones left behind are always dimmer.”
“You’ll bet our lives on that?”
Darby winked, dark eyes sparkling. “Who do you think I am, birdman?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“Well,” she flipped her chin-length hair. “Your loss.”
Darby waited until the group who’d arrested them left. She looked around the area until her gaze settled on the guard waiting at the entrance. That one held a pulse gun and leaned against the doorway with his ankles crossed. She pursed her lips and stood.
With a saunter of her hips and an arch of her back, she approached the desk. The receptionist narrowed her eyes. “Hey, don’t come any closer.”
Darby frowned but stopped. “Seriously?”
“You need to step away and go back over there and wait.”
Darby nodded. “I understand, but I have a problem.” She ignored the previous order and closed the distance to the desk. She leaned across the surface, propping herself up on her elbows. “It’s just… you see the little one over there?” She jerked her head toward Ren.
Ren tried not to take offense, but in comparison to Ollie and Asher, he was indeed the smaller one.
“Yeah? What of him?”
“Well,” Darby said, sliding even farther across the desk. She dropped her voice. “I don’t want to alarm anyone, but he’s a duster.”
“So?”
“He’s a duster who had to leave his planet due to a sickness.”
The receptionist’s eyebrows knit together, and her purple lips thinned into a line. “So? I’m a duster. I had to leave my planet because it was crowded, and we all had to stay under the ground because of weeds generations ago who destroyed our environment.”
“Ah, you get it then. I picked up that you were smarter than the others. What was your name?”
“Fawn.” She tapped her long, red nails against her lips. Her suspicious expression eased into confusion. “I get what?”
Darby raised an eyebrow. “I would think that a duster from an overcrowded planet would understand the implications of a plague, Fawn. Especially in a confined space.”
“A confined space?” she asked slowly.
“Like a drift for instance. This drift. You get it though, right?” Darby shook her head. “I told those cogs that brought us in not to break the ship’s quarantine. I mean, it’s only been a few days since we left his planet, but they wouldn’t listen. They pulled him right out of his little plastic room.” Darby sighed. “He watched his sister die, and then we took him on the ship. His fever hadn’t even abated yet. I still think he might have one. Doesn’t he look pale to you?”
Ren saw the moment Fawn got the implication. Color drained from her face, and her eyes widened. Ren coughed into his fist and curled even smaller, leaning heavily against Asher’s side.
“It just takes one highly contagious individual with a disease from planet-side that most drifters wouldn’t be immune to. And he would infect the whole drift. Actually,” Darby said, looking sorrowfully over to Ren, “you’re not from Stahl, are you? You’re probably not immune to it either. Few people are.”
Fawn leaned away from the desk and scooted her chair away. “His sister died?”
“Oh yeah, he told us all about it. She turned green and she started vomiting this thick, black disgusting stuff. It
was as if she was liquefying. She ran a fever so high that it cooked her internal organs. It sounded gruesome.”
“What?” her voice was a whisper.
“Can you imagine the population of an entire drift slowly turning to liquid?” Darby waved her hand in Ren’s direction. “It happens suddenly too. Like one minute you’re sitting there and the next you’re doubled over.” She shot a significant look at Ren.
Ren took his cue. He clapped a hand over his mouth and bent in half, almost toppling out of the chair. His back bowed and he made a muffled noise—part groan and part gag.
Fawn shot to her feet.
“Get him out of here!”
“Are you sure? We haven’t been processed yet…”
“Yes!” She pointed to the door. Her arm flailed wildly; her intricate knot of hair fell to the side. “Go! Get out of here.”
Asher pulled Ren to his feet.
“Do we need anything to…”
Fawn threw a handful of green tags at them. They fluttered to the floor, and Darby scrambled to pick them up. She stood and waved as Asher and Ren hustled for the exit.
“Thanks so much, Fawn. You don’t know how many lives you saved today. In fact—”
Ollie grabbed Darby by the back of her collar and dragged her toward the door. Darby continued to spout platitudes and grandiose statements about Fawn being a hero and how Darby would tell all her superiors about how smart she was and considerate of her fellow dusters and the arrogant drifters.
“You’re a hero, Fawn!” Darby yelled as they stumbled out of the recruitment area and walked quickly to the lift.
“Laying it on too thick is going to get us caught,” Ollie said, snatching a green tag from Darby’s hand. He snapped it on his pocket.
Ren took one as well and clipped it to the collar of Asher’s drifter jacket. It flapped against his chest with every step.
“Let me have a little fun,” she said, flipping them a smile. “It was one of my finer performances. But Ren, I have to say, you really sold it. Looking all pathetic and then pretending to spew was genius.”
“I try,” Ren said dryly.
Darby skipped through the hallways and spun around. A wide smile split her face. “It’s been a while since I’ve had people,” she said out of the blue. “I’ve forgotten how fun it can be. Think of what we could accomplish together. Think of the scams we could run. I want to stick with you. Can I stick with you?”
“That’s fine with us,” Ollie replied. “But maybe tone it down a little so we don’t draw attention. And we’ll have to discuss the scamming part.”
Darby laughed. “Manipulating attention is what I’m good at.”
“Enough,” Asher said. He took Ren’s hand, and guided the four of them to a corner of the drift, in the shadows. He inspected the ceilings. “This might be a camera blind spot, but I don’t know what good that will do. If Millicent is monitoring the feeds here, then we’re already crunched.”
“She’s not.” Ren leaned against the wall. “I sensed it when we first got here. This drift is running on its own. She’s set it up to conserve power and run efficiently by itself, so she doesn’t have to come back.”
Darby scrunched her nose. “Why would she do that? Wouldn’t she want to check in on her empire?”
“She’s only one person. And even as a star host, she’s not powerful.” Ren flexed his free hand. “The last time we interacted, she still had to be touching an object to control it.”
“Which is why she needs zealots like those so-called soldiers. She showed them something amazing, and they followed blindly.” Asher blushed and looked to Ren, and Ren heard the similarities and truth in Asher’s words. “They believe in her.”
“Well, yeah,” Darby said. “I have seen some shit since I was kidnapped by you losers and I have to say that if Ren asked me to jump out of an airlock, I might actually do it.”
Ren raised an incredulous eyebrow.
“Okay, fine. I wouldn’t do it, but I did get us out of jam with my superior acting skills when I could’ve bolted and left you in the atmosphere.”
“We’re glad you didn’t do that, Darby,” Ollie said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for rescuing us by nonviolent means.”
She beamed.
“Now,” Ollie said, rubbing his hands together. “We need a ship and a way out of here.”
“One with crew we can overpower if needed.” Darby said echoing Penelope.
So much for nonviolence.
“Or one we can steal.” Ollie smacked Ren on the back. “Are you up for it?”
“If I need to be.”
Asher’s smile was rueful. “I think we need you to be.”
“Okay, then. I can do it.”
With a sinking feeling, Ren led the others toward the lift. They didn’t pass anyone, and the lift was empty when they boarded. They went down and exited on the dock level.
“Where is everyone?” Darby’s energy had settled and now she squinted as she surveyed the drift. A few citizens milled about, all wearing green badges, but they eyed the group suspiciously and didn’t engage them. “This place should be bustling. Especially since drift time would be about the middle of their cycle.”
“Hiding.”
“From those jerks?”
“They still have prods and pulse guns. And someone untrained is more dangerous than someone who is.”
“I don’t know, you’re pretty scary, Ash,” Darby said. “The way you move definitely gives you away. Efficient and precise. Like power barely controlled. To a trained eye, like myself, you’d be the opposite of what we’d look for in a good mark.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, you should. Only green meat would try to pickpocket or scam you.”
Asher led them toward the entrance to the docking bays. Ren held his breath as they passed a group of soldiers with the same black uniforms and body armor. The soldiers looked up and down at Ren, scanning his body, noting the green badge. They continued on their way without incident, and Ren almost collapsed in relief.
Ren wished he could merge with the drift’s systems. He wished he could burrow into the vid feeds and scout out the dock. He wished he could search the ship registries and find one that would meet their needs and purpose. He wished he could save this drift, dig in and root out all of Millicent’s snares and protocols, and free the people. But he got one inkling of her star signature and nausea rolled over him, and his body went weak in his joints.
“We’ll start in the bay where we came in. I thought I saw a good ship we can borrow.”
Darby grumbled about semantics.
They entered the docking bay, and Ren was flooded with sensation. He stopped short. Asher bumped into his back.
“Ren?”
Ren ran. He sprinted around a corner. Asher was a half-step behind him.
“Ren! What are you—” Asher skidded to a halt beside him. “Rowan?”
9
Rowan startled at the sound of her name and dropped the prod in her hand. It clattered on the ground. She kicked it away from the prone guard’s outstretched fingers, though he was in no condition to reach for it. “Oh, good,” she said, with a smug grin. “I don’t have to rescue you then.”
“What are you doing here?” Asher sputtered.
“We made it to the trade route and turned around.” She shrugged and looked away, unwilling to meet Asher’s gaze. “Pen’s disapproving silence and Lucas’s forced humor were enough of a punishment.”
“You didn’t have to come back.” Asher crossed his arms. “We had it under control.”
She toed the guard and rolled him to his back as he groaned. “Sure, you did.”
Darby and Ollie jogged up to join them, and Darby huffed. “We were about to steal a ship, but I guess that plan is off.”
Rowan raised a perfect eyebrow. “Completely under control, huh?” Asher didn’t respond. Rowan tugged her braid. “Also, what the hell is this about the divine leader Millicent, Mistress of the Stars?”
Ren wrinkled his nose. “We’ll explain later. Let’s get out of here.”
“What did you do?” Darby asked, peering down at the guard. She studied him, eyes narrowed, fingertip tapping her chin. Once gauging he was not a threat, Darby went for his pockets and rifled through them. No one stopped her.
“He was talking cogging strangely about a divine leader and how I needed to be processed. So, I stole his weapon and sparked him with it.”
“Reasonable course of action,” Darby said. She pulled out a credit chip and pocketed it. “Oh, ID card! Nice! Might need this later.” That also disappeared into the depths of her pockets.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let you…” Rowan addressed Ren, Asher, and Ollie, then nodded her head to Darby. “I shouldn’t have let you four leave. It was a bad decision. Though…” She held up a finger. “…I still maintain that this whole scheme of finding Ren’s brother is reckless. I may have found a change of heart, but it’s entirely dependent on if you can come up with a decent plan.” She tossed her braid over her shoulder.
Asher lightly punched Rowan in the arm. “Apology accepted. And yes,” Asher glanced at the groaning guard. “We have new problems.”
“And a new resolve,” Ren added. “But can we leave first?”
Darby straightened. “Yeah. This drift is creepy, and I want off. Besides, I need to hear more about this divine leader that you all seem to know.”
Rowan nodded sharply. “Right. Let’s go. And put the prod down, Darby. That thing is not coming on my ship. Honestly, I don’t understand the appeal. A pulse gun does the job just as well and from a distance. It’s elegant.”