by Audrey Grey
Closer up, the waters were choppy and green. Talia swallowed as she and the crew scaled the concrete barriers. She hovered just above the drop, her stomach bottoming out. Leo jumped first, landing with a huge thud atop a silver hoverboat and somehow not capsizing it. He dumped the poor fisherman into the waters along with his poles and then beckoned Lux and Talia in.
Explosions rocked the inside of the gates. She glanced back, making out the silver flash of hunters through the semi-translucent wall and, near the gate, a dark figure that had to be Will. He dove and zagged, bright explosions trailing him. The firefight inside grew heavy. They shouldn’t have left Will to fight alone. But Talia had no weapon, and if she ran back to help, she’d end up getting in the way.
The crowds had realized what was happening and surged forward in aid of their queen. Two silver flashes above caught Talia’s attention. Drones. Stars. Looking back one more time, she said, “I’m sorry, Captain.”
Then she clenched her teeth, said a silent prayer for Will, and leapt.
Chapter 29
Will
Guard the gate, Will. Let no one through. Will repeated those words inside his head until they became a mantra of strength, a declaration of willpower and grit. If he could just keep this small section of space protected, then he’d be happy. Obviously he couldn’t hold the hunters and Xander off forever. But long enough for the crew and Talia to reach safety . . . Will could do that.
A blast of orange fire burst against the gravel at his feet, sending a spray of rocks pelting his skin. He ducked and dived, more blaster fire streaking over his cheeks and head; the smell of singed hair filled his nose.
Keep moving. He needed to delay the hunters and queen’s guards as long as possible. To save up the charge on his blaster so he didn’t use it all at once. That meant moving, fast. And not dying.
At least not yet.
A hunter charged and he rolled between its legs, popping up on the other side. He took one step, turned mid-air, and released his charge into the machine, blowing a three-foot wide chasm in its chest. Smoke billowed from its wound, and the hunter collapsed with a crash.
He sucked in air and dove for cover behind the metal carcass as more shots rang out. Fire danced all around, but the hunter’s body took the brunt of it. A metallic glimmer yanked his attention to the gate. Two hunters charged the opening, and he took them down with three body shots each.
Xander growled from the top of the steps, commanding more hunters to storm the gate. Luckily the bodies of the hunters Will had felled made a barrier, slowing the others still pursuing down enough that he could pick them off with ease.
Chaos filled the queen’s courtyard. Smoke churned the sky, tongues of fire lapping the air. The grating-metal sound of dying machines echoed off the walls. When his blaster failed, he managed to grab a huge gun from one of the downed hunters and scramble around the side of the gate wall, the wall Talia and the crew had climbed up and then jumped from. By now they should all be long gone.
Others in Will’s position might be upset at being left behind, but he’d given the order to leave after all. As Jane would say, you can tell a good captain by how well his crew followed his orders.
Heavy footsteps crunched the gravel around the corner, followed by the sounds of shouted commands to split up. They were coming for Will, flanking him on all sides, though since he no longer held the wall, they could be cautious. Drifts of pale-gray smoke wafted over his face as his internal alarms blared. He focused on the litany of warnings scrolling down his bio-screen, the most critical one being blood loss.
Gritting his jaw, he flicked a look down at his left arm. He hadn’t felt the injury when it first happened, but now pain hit him all at once. His bio-flesh was shredded just below the elbow, the inner metal workings of his lower arm mangled beyond repair. The oily black fluid pouring from the severed plastic veins puddled on the ground beside him. Thicker than human blood, but it pulsed with life just the same—and like fleshers, he would die after losing a certain amount.
“You’re surrounded, Will!” Xander’s voice reverberated across the courtyard, the humor in his tone scraping down Will’s spine. “Surrender and we’ll keep this painless.”
Will snorted. Nothing but lies ever came from Xander’s lips. He’d like nothing more than to make Will suffer.
He tried to lift the weapon cradled against his chest with his good arm, his one last defense, but the blaster was too large and cumbersome to aim one-handed. Crap.
His head fell back against the hard stone, and a ragged sigh escaped his throat. How had his life come to this? His mind had been set. Why change it? There was no sense in the decision, no warning he’d ever do something so brazen as forfeit his life for a flesher. Still, here Will was, totally screwed—and yet he didn’t regret saving Talia’s life.
Hope. Is that what this was? His lips stretched into a smile, his heart beating hard and fast. Whatever the emotion, it felt equally foreign and familiar. As if, once, long ago, he’d tasted it and then somehow forgotten how wonderful it was.
Run, Princess.
Xander turned the corner with a smug expression, blaster held out, his head haloed by billows of smoke and a swarm of pissed-off soldiers behind. He shook his head, his thin lips twisting into a smirk. “You’re an idiot, brother.”
He brought his blaster down on Will’s temple so fast he didn’t have time to flinch before his world crashed into darkness.
Will knew he was dreaming because he’d had this same lucid nightmare for years after his transformation, before he stopped sleeping altogether. He was in a hospital bed beneath a thick glass window, sunlight casting shadows over General Crayburn as he looked over Will, inspecting him the way one might a shiny new toy.
His body felt different; his skin felt wrong. He tried to stand, but the general had the mock technicians hold Will down, using words like hurt and dead to explain what had happened to his mother and him.
His skull had been crushed, his brain damaged beyond repair, the bones of his body pulverized into jagged pieces that would never fit back together again. Every human part of him was ruined.
“All humans are savages, but now you’re saved from such a fate,” the general promised. “I saved you.”
Will’s eyes were stretched wide as he clawed at his arms, the metal beneath too hard, too alien. He never noticed his skin before, but his new bio-flesh felt tight and odd holding in all this new material. His fingers gouged holes into the plastic sides of the hospital bed. His legs felt like they could lift a building. His mind whirred faster than a machine, processing shreds of sensory detail the way a computer would, with no emotion.
When he was done thrashing about, his new mock body paralyzed with shock, his new father leaned down and whispered, “I am your creator, boy. Your salvation. Never forget that.”
Then he handed Will a copper-colored coin, slipping it into his new, foreign hand.
“What’s this?” Will asked.
“Keep this with you always as a reminder. Just as you own this penny, I own you.”
Earth-shattering charges pulsed through Will’s body and wrenched him into consciousness. His body ached, shuddering, and his mind was fuzzy. Shadows shrouded the walls of wherever he was—a cell. Unused, judging by the musty smell. The stones were old and faded, the air frigid and stale. He was underground and cloaked in darkness, nothing but a pale slant of light coming from a holo-flame somewhere above.
The source of his shuddering revealed itself quickly as a long metal prod. On the other end crouched a generic-looking mock male with a pleasant smile that contrasted with his flat, cruel eyes. His face hardly creased as he shocked Will again, and again. Blue sparks lit the darkness. Will kicked at the rod and scurried back, pain shooting up his left arm when it touched the grimy floor.
Deep down, he knew what he would see when he looked at his arm. Still, as his gaze swept over the stump, wrapped in gauze stained black, a fist of panic slammed into his gut.
; “Leave the captain alone, Collector.” The queen stepped into the dim light, the soft, insidious tone of her voice raking down every knob of his spine. “His uploads show he has no information on her whereabouts or the secret Alliance locations.”
Disappointment flashed across his torturer’s face, the man’s bizarre smile twitching. “He may have such knowledge embedded inside his programs—”
“No.” The words were final, leaving no room for argument. “He didn’t know he was a traitor until seven hours ago. That was a secret buried inside with the last remains of his human tendencies. A nasty little surprise.” The queen peered down at him, her pale face half veiled in darkness. “No, he won’t have the information we need.”
She emerged from the shadows, the queen’s sleek, polished armor the only clean thing in the cell. He’d seen her holograms before, and her visage haunted every single broadcast made in the galaxies. But up close, she was phenomenal—tall and powerful with a savagely stunning beauty that made him forget his pain for a breath. Like staring at one of the large, extinct cats that used to roam the first world.
“Let this be a lesson, Collector.” She wrapped her slim fingers around the bars and peered down at him the way someone stares at an insect. “Humanity cannot be stamped out of someone. Like a virus hidden inside a single cell, it returns to infect the host.”
Nausea coiled in Will’s gut. How had he ever pledged his life to someone like her? All these years thinking his service was for someone pure and honorable, a queen worthy of his loyalty. Yet it was all a lie. This woman might wear a crown, but she paled in comparison to Talia, even with all the flesher princess’s human faults.
For the first time, he realized those were what made her worth following. And this perfect, unfeeling queen was a bad copy—and undoubtedly a psychopath.
“I’m glad she’s free,” he said, grinning despite the pain in his arm and his overall crappy circumstances. In fact, he hadn’t felt this clear about something in a while. “She’s going to escape your planet and rally the Alliance, and then she’ll show everyone what a true queen looks like.”
A frighteningly long pause followed where not a flicker of emotion crossed the smooth contours of the mock queen’s face. Then she wrapped her hands around the metal bars of his cell and squeezed until dust and steel ground beneath her metal fingers and clouded the air. She regarded him a moment longer, her huge eyes unblinking as her gaze raked over him, peeling back layers to his core.
“I hear having your servers corrupted is about the most painful thing our kind can endure,” she said, glancing sideways at the man she called the Collector. Then she turned and glided back into the shadows, calling out over her shoulder, “Set his public execution for daybreak tomorrow, so the galaxies can see what happens to anyone who supports Talia Starchaser.”
Chapter 30
Talia
Talia’s fall seemed to span forever. She flailed in the air, her hair snapping away from her face, wind thundering in her ears. As soon as she hit the murky water she sank like a brick. The currents caught her heavy cloak and yanked her deeper. Thrashing in a panic, she clawed at the material to free herself, but then a strong hand clenched her shoulder and yanked her to the surface. She clamored into the metal boat, wincing as her bruised wrists dragged against the hard sides and gasping in precious gulps of air.
Chunks of concrete splashed in the water, hailing down from above—the drones must have shot right as she’d jumped, just missing her and blasting a human-sized pit into the wall. Lux popped up on the other side of the boat, looking about as happy as a cat being drowned, her lips pursed and eyes hard.
She shot Leo a look that could melt the sun as she climbed over the side, wheezing. “Thanks for the . . . help, Leo.”
“Always a gentleman,” Leo remarked, cutting a sideways glance at her before aiming at the closest drone. As it dipped low, sunlight reflecting off its convex body, he let off a shot. Direct hit. The drone crashed into the water, sending drops spraying every which way.
Talia slipped into the pilot’s seat, a smooth red fiberglass thing, still warm from the angry fisherman now swimming toward the shore thirty-yards out. The boat had a steering wheel, a throttle, and two buttons. Small crafts like this frequented the rivers of the off-world resort planet of Laos, but she’d never actually piloted one. How hard could it be?
The engine was still rumbling. She paused, her hand just over the throttle. “What about Will?”
Lux already had her gaze locked onto the bridge, searching for any sign of him. Leo flicked quick glances over too, in between taking shots at the drones. Talia counted twenty rapid beats of her heart as they waited—an eternity.
“Go,” Lux commanded, her shoulders lowering as she ripped her gaze from the bridge. “He’ll find a way back . . . if he can.”
Despite the hesitation for leaving Will, Talia’s adrenaline made her hit the throttle, hard. She slammed into the seat, which only made her push the throttle down more.
Leo cried out and crashed onto the sleek deck, bellowing curse words as Lux smirked at him and held onto a rail along the side. They skipped over the waves, the power from each landing concussing Talia’s body and rattling her teeth, her skull. Sprays of water soaked her face and hair and sent little rainbows shimmering over the air. But they made good time, and somewhere between there and the shore, Leo shot the other drone out of the sky.
Once on land, five more drones came, but Leo and Lux took care of them, shooting rays from their blasters. Dripping wet and reeking of stagnant water, the crew sprinted into the city, winding through alleys and under bridges to avoid the crowds. Talia threw her arm out to stop Lux and Leo as they were about to round a corner, spotting soldiers marching on the other side of the street.
After waiting three beats for the soldiers to pass, Talia nodded and received a small, almost nonexistent, smile from Lux. They made their way to the outskirts of the market and kept their heads low while winding down a rickety spiral staircase, closing in on the meeting place.
As soon as the Odysseus’s ragged hull came into view, hidden beneath a crumbling bridge and a mound of junk metal and trash, Talia’s entire body went limp with relief. She stumbled inside, and they were met by Jane and Dorian. Their eyes darted from the returned crew to the door.
“Where’s the captain?” Jane asked, even as her eyes crumpled on the sides a bit like she knew already.
“Had to . . . leave him behind,” Leo panted, one hand plastered on the wall of the bridge for support. Water dripped from his thick braids and puddled on the metal floor.
Lux reached over and punched a few buttons on the bands still around his wrists, then she slipped the explosive devices off.
“Glad to know I’m not on your bad side anymore.” Leo winked, rubbing his red, irritated wrists.
“Let’s just stay alive.”
Dorian crossed the bridge to the com panel and twisted a few dials until a holo-screen popped up over the dash. The image shimmered before solidifying, revealing Will from the shoulders up and drawing a gasp from Lux. His flesh was split open over his left eyebrow, trickling blood down his cheek. Reddish-purple bruises spotted his face. Despite his obvious injuries, he still managed a smirk.
His name and ranking were listing below the image—Will Perrault, Ender Class and Scavenger Captain of the Odysseus—along with the words traitor. Lux’s hand shot out, using Leo for support as Will’s face disappeared and a mock entered the screen. Something about him was familiar, with his dead eyes and giddy smile so at odds with the rest of his countenance.
“The Collector,” Talia murmured, as if saying his name too loudly might draw his gaze toward her. Waves of hot anger rolled over her, the kind that could burn someone from the inside out, blood and all. He was the one responsible for the Starchaser’s death. He and Ailat. And now he was near Will. He’d risked his life for Talia, for his crew. The thought churned her gut, and she fisted a hand against her stomach.
“Captain
Will Perrault was caught harboring a high-profile member of the Alliance. He is a traitor to the Federation, his queen, and the intergalactic community. Tomorrow at dawn, he will be corrupted publicly as a reminder of what happens to those who help our enemies.”
Talia hugged herself to block out the giddy humor in The Collector’s tone, and the awful memories that came with it, her legs suddenly very heavy. How could she let Will suffer like this? She spoke to him about hope, but what hope did he have if she didn’t do something?
“Guys . . .” Lux’s voice wavered, drawing Talia’s attention back to the holo-screen.
Jane’s image and rank wavered in front of them, her short salt-and-pepper hair combed and her black uniform crisp, a proud smile on her face. Jane was standing a few feet away from the image, and a tiny breath escaped her lips, her shoulders slumping as she read the word below: traitor.
Lux was next. For once, her lavender hair was tamed into a bun, her jewel-bright green eyes appearing more hazel against her cobalt-blue uniform. She wore a big smile that showed off dimples on either side of her cheeks.
“They took that picture right after I graduated the Academy,” she whispered, staring at the image as if she didn’t recognize herself.
As soon as Dorian’s picture appeared, Lux stiffened, hardly daring to breathe. His image was taken a few years ago, judging by his round face soft with youth. The word traitor blinking below this innocent boy seemed wrong.
“Look at that handsome devil,” Leo scoffed as his visage appeared. Whatever the occasion for the picture, his long honey-blond hair—usually pulled back into braids—was loosed and combed away from his chiseled face. “Never been a traitor as good looking as him.”