The Black Stars (25 page)

*   *   *

Mason awoke on the Hawk. Through a window, he saw the space between Earth and Skars, still many millions of miles away from each other. The halfway point was alive with both fleets surrounding the Will and the Olympus, which had moved back to their positions. Even the shipyard building the new planet gate was back in place.

His friends were in the room. They were all smiling. A few video screens on the wall showed the celebrations taking place on both planets. One showed a replay of Mason coring the ship like an apple. He moved across the screen like a shooting star, entering the ship from one side and exiting in the next second, destruction trailing behind him.
So that's what it looked like.

Po and Merrin were sitting on either side of his bed. “Nice job, buddy.” Po said. “I knew you had it in you.” His tone was casual, but he was staring at Mason with awe.

“
Did
you now?” Risperdel said. “I don't think any of us saw that coming.”

“Tom,” Mason said. His tongue felt fat and parched in his mouth, a slab of rock. “Water.”

“Tom is…” Merrin started to say.

Mason knew where Tom was.
You don't leave a man behind.
That was something you learned on day one in the ESC.

Mason wasn't going to leave a man behind. And maybe he could find his father on Nori-Blue, if Erik Stark hadn't perished aboard the Fangborn ship. Mason couldn't tell what would be worse: to have inadvertently killed his father, or to come face-to-face with him on the planet where all of this began.

“Um, Mason, about your gloves,” Po said. He was trying to give a reassuring smile, but Mason saw the concern in his eyes.

Mason looked at the gloves as Risperdel pressed a pouch of water into his hand. His robe was folded in a pile next to him. The material of the gloves had extended up past his elbows, over his shoulders, tendrils of it snaking out across his chest to connect with one another over his spacesuit. The gloves covered most of his torso now. He was terrified to see it—
this isn't right, this isn't what I wanted
—but the gloves felt … pleased. It was an odd feeling, one he didn't fully understand.

Everyone was staring.

Mason unfolded his robe and slid it over his head, hiding most of the gloves from sight. “No time to worry about that right now. I'm fine, I promise.”

Merrin put her hand on his arm. “Mason…”

“Did anyone die?” Mason asked. He should've stopped his assault. Once the fighters were inside the ship, he should've left its final destruction to them. But he couldn't fight the urge for one final pass, and rupturing the core had immediately changed the objective from destroy to escape.

“A few of the fighters didn't make it out,” Lore said, her voice somber. “A team of Rhadgast were fighting Fangborn on the way to the power room. They perished.”

“Not his fault,” Risperdel said. “They would've died anyway when they reached the core.”

Mason felt feverish all of a sudden. “How—how many?”

“We don't know yet,” Po said. He put his hand on Mason's shoulder. “It's over, Stark. Both our planets are saved. The newsfeeds are saying the orbits have stabilized.”

Mason locked eyes with Merrin, who seemed to have already accepted what he was planning to do next. “It's not over, Po. Not until we get Tom back.”

Mason stood up; a wave of nausea smacked him in the stomach. His vision blurred. He blinked it away, calling upon the gloves to steady him, a thing they were very willing to do.
When this is over, the gloves are coming off.
He waited to see if the gloves gave some kind of reaction, but they were quiet.

“They're not going to let you go,” Po said. “Not with the gloves. They'd never risk letting the Fangborn get their claws on them. Reckful has been ordered to take us to the Will for a press conference.”

“It sounds like we're all famous now,” Risperdel said. “But yeah, they're not going to let you go to Nori-Blue, and they're certainly not going to authorize a mission.”

“I'm not asking for authorization. Who can stop me?” Mason said.

Po didn't seem to have an answer for that.

But Mason wanted to be sure before he risked more lives. He reached down to his boot and removed the communicator Grand Admiral Shahbazian had given to him and Tom. Everyone gave him an odd look when he squeezed it in one hand, before he closed his eyes.

The incoming sensations of the room Mason was currently in—the dry smell of recycled air, the tiny vibrations through the soles of his feet—all of that faded away. He caught a glimpse of GAS's office, but Mason didn't want that just yet. He knew the answer he would get from GAS if he asked for help right now. Instead, he reached out across the galaxy for the other communicator. And he found it. It was inside Tom's boot, but it gave a picture of the room around it, painted in bluish hues and sharp white lines. The quality was much lower, since the device was not synced to Tom the way it was to Mason.

Tom was on his side, in a dirty cell carved from rock. The door was a transparent force field. Outside, a Fangborn slinked by, dragging his claws along the force field, creating green sparks. Tom flinched away, shivering, then froze. He looked down at his boot, where the communicator was vibrating on a low frequency inside his heel. He pulled out the device and gripped it tightly in one hand. Two seconds later, Mason stood in the cell with Tom.

“Mason!” Tom said, but only in his mind.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I'm okay—they roughed me up a little. But I'm fine. Did you win?”

“We won.”

“Of course we did.” Tom seemed to relax, which was odd to see considering he was currently inside an alien prison on an alien planet.

“I'm coming after you,” Mason said.

“No! Are you crazy? They'll expect that. There are Fangborn
everywhere.
I'm in some kind of underground prison city.”

“This isn't a discussion.”

“You're right! It's a suicide mission. They—”

“What is it?”

“I don't think you should come, Mason.”

“Why not?”

“Because … one of them told me … they said soon I would be like them. They're going to change me.”

Mason's blood went cold. “I won't let that happen.”

“There's nothing you can do about it! I'll be different. Even with the cure, you won't be able to get to me in here without getting eaten.”

“
Tom.
If I was stuck in there, or Merrin was, what would you do?”

Tom didn't say anything for a long minute. Then he shrugged. “I'd come after you. But it's not worth it, Stark. If you can't think of yourself, think of your friends who might get hurt. Who
will
get hurt.” A shadow fell across Tom. Mason looked to the right and saw two Fangborn outside Tom's cell.

The larger one spoke, the muscles in his throat undulating.
“It's time to evolve, little one.”

 

Chapter Thirty-eight

 

Tom looked at Mason, a mixture of resolve and fear on his face. “It's too late! Stay away,
please.
” He cut the feed.

Mason opened his eyes and dropped the communicator. He was shivering like Tom had been. He touched the pocket of his robe and felt the vials within. They had survived their trip through space. “He—he's on Nori-Blue. The Fangborn have him prisoner. They're going to turn him into a monster.…” Mason started for the door.

Lore blocked the way, her hands held loose at her sides. “Reckful won't take you to Nori-Blue. Are you prepared to fight him?”

Mason turned to face Po, Merrin, and Risperdel. “I have a plan, but I can't do it by myself.”

The three shared a look.

Po shrugged. “If we don't go with you, they're just going to throw us in a cell and question us for days. Might as well.”

Risperdel nodded solemnly.

The corner of Merrin's mouth twitched: the ghost of a smile. “Was there ever any doubt?”

*   *   *

“We're going to need a little more help,” Mason said to Merrin. They were docking at the Will. Mason felt a rush of air as the main door opened before the pressure could equalize.

“Luckily, I know a good crew,” Merrin said.

Reporters both Tremist and human were waiting for them in the docking bay of the Will. They were crowded around the exit ramp with their cameras and their questions. Po was happy to take center stage, but once they saw Mason on the ramp they elbowed Po aside. Mason half considered using his shield to push them back.

What happened out there what did you see inside tell us about your gloves are you a Blood or a Stone?

Mason squinted against their lights and held up his hands. The words died away and the reporters seemed to hold their breath, waiting to see what Mason had to say next.

“I need a ship,” Mason said. “Who wants to let me borrow theirs?”

No one spoke.

“You'll get an exclusive,” Mason said.

*   *   *

Five minutes later they were aboard a shuttle that belonged to the galaxy's number-one news network, MWNN. The Milky Way News Network had special clearance with the ESC (in exchange for a few positive puff pieces each year), which would make the next part of their mission easier.

“Better hurry,” Merrin said. Through the window, they could see the Will's security forces moving toward them. They wore blue uniforms and carried handheld talons—the deadly energy weapons used by the Tremist—on their hips. Security must've been watching the news feed and realized Mason and his team had no intention of being part of a press conference.

Mason piloted the shuttle out of the bay, passing through the force field into space. Once clear of the Will, Mason dropped a cross gate. It expanded in front of them while their com logged over five hundred separate incoming frequencies.
I've got their attention.

Only one of them made it through. “Where do you think you're going?” It was Grand Admiral Shahbazian. “I need you back here
now.
Nice work, by the way.”

Mason decided to give GAS one chance. “Sir, I need a team of Reynolds to come with me to Nori-Blue. Cadet Tom Renner is currently a prisoner there. And I am going to get him back.”

“Nori-
Blue
? Are you insane, Cadet? You clearly have some schooling left, son. We don't just execute missions on the fly. We require things like
intelligence
and
reconnaissance.
And
planning.
We currently have none of those things. Which means the answer is no. We can discuss a mission when you get back. But for now, you're a hero, son. Be a hero to these people.”

Mason thought of the dead he was unable to save. Of the fighter pilots who perished because of his actions. His best friend captured because of Mason's arrogance. The people he had saved diminished the lives he had lost not at all.

“I'm no hero,” Mason said, then he flew the shuttle through the gate.

*   *   *

The shuttle appeared in high orbit above Mars. The computer flagged Academy I and II with little golden rings, highlighting them on the glass. Mason began his descent.

The com clicked: “Unidentified shuttle, this is ESC traffic control. State your business.”

Po prodded his shoulder. “Say something!”

“This is Mason Stark,” he said. “I'm here to pick up two cadets. Patch me through to Academy II.”

Ten minutes later they were in the shuttle bay of Academy II. Having ESC ground under his feet again gave Mason a strange, tickly feeling in his chest. It was a good feeling. But so much had happened, he wondered if he could still be considered a cadet. Was he a cadet, or a rhadjen? Could he be both?

Mason was not surprised to see two Reynolds waiting for him in the shuttle bay. GAS wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Are you here to detain me?” Mason said to them. “Because that will go badly for all parties involved.”

The Reynolds shared a look, but Mason couldn't see their expressions behind the blank masks. Their circular eye lenses brightened, flickering from pink to white.

“No, kid,” the one on Mason's left said. “Well, yes. We are technically here to detain you.” His voice came out raspy, modified by a computer.

“But we're not going to do that,” the right one said. “Vice Admiral Bruce Renner was our commanding officer back in the day. We heard his son is in danger, and that you're not okay with that.”

“Not okay at all,” Mason said.

“So we're asking permission to come along.”

Mason wondered if it was some kind of trick, a ploy designed to lower his guard so they could take him in peacefully. After the destruction of the Fangborn ship, who wouldn't be afraid of his power?

The left one removed his mask … and Mason discovered he was a she. A tumble of bright red hair fell around her shoulders. Her cheeks were dappled with freckles. She looked around Susan's age. “Kylie Sparks, at your service.”

Mason shook her hand. The other one did not seem interested in removing his or her mask. “I need all the help I can get. Thank you. Find a spot on the shuttle.”

Behind the Reynolds, the doors to the school hissed open. Mason peered over Kylie's shoulder and saw something that almost made him forget all the bad stuff that had happened. A real smile formed on his face. Because Jeremy and Stellan were here. The team was almost back together.

 

Chapter Thirty-nine

 

Jeremy and Stellan walked down the steps and sidled up next to the Reynolds. They were two of the bravest soldiers Mason had ever known, and two of Mason's closest friends. For this mission most of all, Mason appreciated how different they were. Stellan was purely logical and thought-driven. Jeremy was smart, too, but he liked to break stuff with his hands. They even looked completely opposite: Jeremy, dark hair and eyes, stocky and muscled; Stellan, willowy and tall, bone-thin, with hair so blond it was nearly white.