Authors: Ali Cross
Why can I not restrain myself when I am around her?
Why must I make this so complicated?
I am glad she left. Glad she forbade me see her again.
Perhaps now I can focus on my goal.
I see the Mind ship flash into existence off our starboard side. See the pods that disengage almost immediately and race toward the
Capital
.
What I don’t see is how Galen comes to be standing in the Con with a charge gun not unlike the one I used on him. The the Mind have developed some sort of transportation device fills me with more dread than the green light on the side of the gun.
Galen gives me a moment to understand he has bested me before he activates the gun and I am undone.
The Mind arrive while the last of the kitchen staff leave the ship. I’ve lived with them my entire life, yet not one said goodbye. Sher and Tam cast me guilty looks—like they knew they should thank me, should apologize, should honor me, but they can’t get past their own life-learned fear of me.
Minn lingers behind though, and when the last of them have gone, she stands in front of me. “I shouldn’t be leaving you.” She gestures toward Dillon. “We shouldn’t leave you.”
“Yes, you should. There can be no life with me—surely you know that.”
She glances at Dillon, and I suspect they disagree.
Minn steps forward. It’s awkward, but she pulls me into her arms. I hesitate a moment before placing my hands on her back. I close my eyes, let myself feel the warmth of another human being, the beauty of this contact so different from the wanting needs and mouths of the guards. Different from Nic’s passionate kiss that was so much more than human.
This is kindness. Maybe even love. My memory holds dusty samples to compare it to and yes, this is love. I let myself relax into Minn’s embrace and I squeeze her more tightly. “Thank you, Minn.” I hope she knows what I mean, how I feel. When her body trembles and she chokes on a sob in her throat, I have my answer.
I give one more squeeze, then step back, letting my arms drop to my side. I offer a wan smile that Minn reflects before she and Dillon turn and walk out of the hanger.
They have only just stepped outside when I order the doors closed and preparations made to return to space. I have an appointment to keep.
While I ride the transport up to the control room, I take stock of the situation.
The Mind have come with reinforcements—three of their ships orbit
New Oregon
, broadcasting peace to the ship-state. They are only here to take one girl into custody. An enemy of the Empire, they say.
They don’t tell them it is the daughter of their king, the Daughter of the West. They don’t tell them my execution awaits.
I step into the command center. I didn’t ask the ship for a report on the pods, to learn if Nic is gone—I hadn’t wanted to know. But the emptiness of the room puts my doubt to rest.
Nic has left. Just as I asked him to. Just as I said I wanted him to.
An acute sorrow slips through my veins like syrup, burning away all remaining hope, scouring any residue of love. Nicolai and I are the last hope of humanity, the last hope for each other—and he’s gone.
I pray Nic was wrong when he said my capture, my death, wouldn’t be enough to appease them. And then I wonder—is a life as a slave to inhuman masters better than death?
Or is it worse?
A request for boarding comes, and I grant it.
I am facing the door when they come for me. They are soldiers, each one a mirror of the other. Tall, wide and strong, wearing the white uniforms of the Mind contingency and masks that cover all but their eyes. Golden emblems emblazoned on their shoulders identify them as soldiers of the Elite. They hold no weapons in their hands, but they are present—waiting within their forearms, their palms, their fingertips. I recognize the potential for pain in every part of these androids—they’ve been crafted for violence and will carry out their orders with faultless precision.
But I have no intention of fighting them. I step forward and hold out my wrists.
Five soldiers come through—three take the transport down and two remain behind. A droid steps forward, producing gleaming cuffs that look flimsy and insignificant. The titanium steel clasps around my wrists with biting cold. Nanos ooze from the steel and slip beneath my skin, racing through my blood stream, shutting down the most intimate, secret parts of me.
As they’re stripped from me, I realize my ability to interact with the ship, with the walls, hasn’t been magic but science. One by one the Mind’s virus attacks tiny computers,
nanos
they quietly supply, present in my blood stream, in my mind, my brain, until I am left with only the human part of me—woefully inadequate and weak. I am resigned, waiting for the virus to strip away my doubt and fear, waiting for the Mind to claim me.
Then the soldier on my right raises his elbow and strikes the other in the nose. I stumble back as the errant soldier brutally attacks the other, shoving his fist into the man’s eye and yanking it out with wires clasped in his fingertips.
It takes less than ten seconds.
Now I stand in the presence of this . . . stranger . . . and I feel more fear than I ever have before. I want to run, to escape, but the nanos flooding my system have erased my ability to obey my own commands. Thankfully I can still speak.
“What are you doing? Who are you?”
The man steps forward while removing the mask that covers most of his face. “Sera,” he says—and I recognize him at once.
Archibald
.
His mask removed, my name on his lips . . . images of memories and dreams flash before my eyes. His hands reach for me, and I remember those same hands as they lifted me onto his shoulders, onto his back.
“Piggyback, Sera.”
“It’s all right, Sera. It’s all right, M’Lady.”
He called me that once. He called me
M’Lady
that day. The day my parents died and Archibald abandoned me.
No
, I think. The day he died. The day he pushed me down the garbage chute to save my life.
I understand it all a moment before I slump to the floor, unable to hold myself upright, a moment before everything goes black.
Here she stands, the one I have hoped for, the one who gives my entire existence meaning. I am . . . overjoyed. I reach for her a moment before her knees give way and she loses consciousness. The shackles should not have affected her in quite such a way but I cannot question it now. It won’t be long before my treason is discovered and we must be well-hidden by then.
“Forgive me, M’Lady,” I whisper as I pull her into my arms.
I wake on the floor of a control room—but I am no longer on the
Capital
. The stations are all manned by the uniform android models of a flight crew—the same type that sit at the helm of the Eastern
Capital
.
Galen crouches within my line of sight.
“Ah, I am so glad you are awake, my Lord.” He smiles, but it does nothing to soften the hungry glint in his eye.
“Imagine my surprise when I discovered the West harbored not one heir, but two.” He stands and clasps his hands together behind his back. Rocking forward onto the balls of his feet he says, “I thank you for making my job so much easier, for sparing your people so much unnecessary bloodshed.”
My mind screams for me to
fight
, to
kill
, but I school my features and body to remain impassive. Cool shackles bind my wrists, robbing me of the exaggerated abilities my nanotech allows me. For the moment, I am only a man.
But even as a man, I will end Galen, leader of the Mind.
“What, nothing to say for yourself, your Highness?” He watches me, curiosity shining in his eyes, but I remain silent. “No matter,” he says. “You know, you should have Bonded with her when you had the chance—perhaps then you might have made something of your little rebellion.”
He paces away from me while two soldier droids approach and yank me to my feet.
GGalen turns and offers me his first sincere expression—and his fine features twist into an ugly mask. “I’m afraid now your Bonding will have to wait for death.” He nods to the droid on my right before exiting the Con.
The soldiers drag me to a transport while I struggle to understand what Galen said. His words ring like a gong in my mind, sending echoes through my bloodstream until I’m certain Galen just told me that Serantha is already dead.
I wake in the last place I ever expected to find myself again. As soon as my eyes open, I scrabble away from the android sitting next to the rotting pallet in my usual cell. I press my back against the cold, damp wall of the ship’s outer hull and urge my senses to return to me.