A Memory of Earth Read online

  "That's horrible," Bay said. He put a hand on her waist. "I'm so sorry."

  "The weavers saved me that day. Not human weavers. Tarmarins. They're not all evil. They took me to their guildhall. There are weaver guildhalls on many worlds, operated by many species. The weavers raised me, taught me to weave, to earn my runes. It was a hard life. Even among the other weavers, I was an outcast. Many apprentices bullied me. Beat me." Her eyes hardened. "And yet I became stronger. Strongest among them. By age twenty, I had gained more runes than any other apprentice. I became a journeywoman."

  "A weaver rank," Bay said. "Like a lieutenant."

  She nodded. "Once I earned that rank, I left my guildhall. I could have remained, risen in the ranks. But I moved back in with the small human community on Til Shiran. I wanted to protect them. But I watched so many slain. Every week, the natives killed another. Every time a well ran dry, or a child died, or a crop failed, the aliens punished us humans. Every week, the mobs attacked. I tried to fight them. To defend my community. To save human lives. One time the Tarmarins grabbed me, and . . ." She winced. "They stripped me naked, Bay. They marched me naked through the streets, pelting me with trash. And one of the Tarmarins, he . . ." Her eyes flooded with tears.

  He held her close. "You don't have to tell me," he whispered.

  She wept. "I lied to you, Bay. I wasn't a virgin. But I had never made love to a human. When the ancients gave me this task, I knew. I understood. They didn't just want me to lose my virginity." She wrapped her arms around him. "They wanted me to heal, Bay. To learn that sex can be joyous too. To make me whole again." She smiled through her tears. "And you made me whole."

  Bay kissed her tears away. "Coral, I'm sorry for all those times I was a smartass, when I bickered or scolded you. You're a wonderful, brave, and wise woman. I'm happy that you stole my ship and kidnapped me."

  She laughed. "I am too."

  A sob sounded above. "And me too!" Brooklyn said.

  Bay and Coral leaped up in bed. They tugged the blanket up to their chins.

  "Brook!" Bay said. "I thought you were in sleep mode! How long have you been listening?"

  "Not long!" the starship said. "Since that pretty poem."

  Bay groaned. "Brooklyn! I'm going to wipe your memory clean."

  "I mean—I just woke up!" Brooklyn said. "I'll go back to sleep now. Oh, and Bay? You have a cute butt."

  He gasped. He turned toward the cockpit, where he saw her camera staring through the doorway.

  "You were watching too?" Bay cried.

  Brooklyn vanished into sleep mode. Bay flopped back onto the bed. Coral looked around, slack-jawed, then shook her head and sighed.

  "Well, she's right, you know," she said.

  Bay sighed. "I'm definitely wiping her memory."

  Coral lay back down, curled up against Bay, and kissed his cheek. Suddenly she gasped.

  "Bay!" she whispered. "Look."

  A white dot was glowing on her chest, just above her heart. The light moved, coiling in silvery lines, drawing a rune. Coral watched, smiling, the light in her eyes. Bay held her, watching too.

  The ancients are drawing it, Bay thought. They are real.

  Finally the light faded, leaving a white tattoo on her chest—a skylock rune.

  Coral looked up into his eyes. She rose from the bed, wrapped a blanket around her nakedness, and walked into the cockpit. Bay paused to pull on his clothes, then joined her.

  They flew closer toward the planetary shield.

  "Can you sense the gateway?" he said.

  Coral nodded and pointed. "There."

  As Bay flew, the skylock rune on her chest began to glow. Down on the planetary shield, a matching rune—a circle filled with symbols like stars and keys—began to glow too. The rune on the shield was the size of a crop circle, glowing bright.

  Bay had seen Coral unlock her runeblade before. The pommel had the same rune as on her hand. When she used her blade, both runes shone, connecting through the aether.

  Now strands of aether rose from the shield below, flowed across space, and entered Brooklyn. The light connected to Coral's chest. The shimmering strands of aether flowed between the two runes.

  She's plugged in like a damn toaster, Bay thought.

  And below, where the rune appeared on the shield, a gateway opened.

  Bay realized that the planet was even greener than he had thought. The opening revealed the true, vibrant colors of Elysium. He guided the ship through the gateway and into the rich atmosphere and blue sky. Behind them, the skygate slid shut and locked with a thud.

  The aether floated away. The rune on Coral's chest faded to white ink.

  "Most locks just need a password," Bay said. "You know, I prefer the sex-locks."

  Coral rolled her eyes. "You would."

  Bay's eyes strayed toward his sketchbook on the dashboard. It was opened to the drawing of Rowan on Dinosaur Island, filming one of the beasts. And sudden guilt filled Bay.

  It was strange. He was not Rowan's boyfriend or lover. He was just her friend. Besides, she was far too young to romance. Why was Bay feeling guilty for making love to the beautiful Coral?

  He descended through the sky, approaching the verdant landscapes below.

  "Let's find this Weeping Weaver Guildhall," Bay said. "Let's find this Godblade and learn how to use it. If one striker already got here, others will follow, and I wouldn't count on this shield holding for long. Not with a Hierarchy fleet bombarding it. They won't need sex. They'll nuke their way through the door."

  Coral nodded. "We must hurry." Her eyes lit up. "We'll find the Godblade. I'll learn what rune I need. And then we'll have a weapon that can kill them all." She placed a hand on his thigh. "For Earth, Bay. For humanity. For happiness." She grinned impishly. "And for sex."

  Bay wanted to grin too, to laugh, but he remembered how the striker had fired on him. How he had nearly died. He imagined thousands of those warships arriving here, and his hand shook on the joystick, and he couldn't stop seeing the fire.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Everything hurt.

  Rowan stood in her cabin, rubbing her shoulders, wincing.

  "Ouch."

  Fillister buzzed around her. "Training hard? Or hardly training?"

  Rowan glared at him. "That's a horrible joke. Yes, I've been training hard. Emet is a slave driver. He works me ruthlessly. Day after day—battling hellbulls down on the planet, climbing cliffs, racing down tunnels, lifting weights, flying shuttles, running, climbing, jumping, shooting . . ." She grimaced and rubbed a sore muscle. "Bloody hell, Frodo never had to train like this."

  Thankfully, Emet had given her a private cabin. This was a rare luxury aboard the ISS Jerusalem, normally reserved only for senior officers. Rowan was only a corporal, the second-lowest possible rank. But in the looming battle, she would be the most important soldier in the fleet.

  It will be my task to capture Jade, she thought. To save humanity. If I do that, Emet better promote me!

  Rowan looked through the porthole out into space.

  The Inheritor fleet floated around her. Several warships. Barges and freighters filled with refugees and supplies. Starfighters with bright engines. There were also the starships Luther had given them, more than fifty old vessels. They were rusty and falling apart, but mechanics were floating around them, patching them up, readying them for battle.

  Below the fleet, Helios was lazily orbiting its swirling gas giant. A yellow haze clung to the large moon, shimmering in the starlight. Rowan had spent much of the past few weeks on that hot, damp world, training for battle. Training to capture the Blue Witch, the architect of the Human Solution.

  Rowan raised her eyes. She stared into the depths of space.

  "You're out there somewhere, Jade," she whispered. "But you know I'm here. You'll come back to me. Soon we'll meet again. One day. Doomsday. You'll try to kill me. But I will make you remember who you are. I'll make you my sister again."

  Rowan lowered her head,
and a tear rolled down her cheek. She had been only a toddler when the scorpions had stolen Jade. Fifteen years had passed. A lifetime for Rowan. She didn't remember much from that time. But some memories remained. Playing with toy swords. Laughing. Singing in a cave with stalagmites that glittered and glowed. Hugging her sister. Being happy. Living with love.

  But they captured you.

  Rowan winced, remembering that day, how Sin Kra, the scorpion emperor, had gripped Jade in his claws, pulled her away.

  They broke you. Turned you into a monster.

  "They say she murdered millions," Rowan whispered. "But it's not her fault. I know this, Fill. It's not her fault. Sin Kra broke her. Implanted something in her brain. Forced her to kill. So she killed. She killed millions. But deep inside, she's still Jade, a scared girl, my sister. Still good. And afraid. And begging for help. We have to save her."

  Fillister nodded. "Chin up, Row! We'll save her all right."

  Rowan raised her chin, tightened her lips, and rubbed her eyes. "We'll save everyone. We'll end this war. We'll find Bay, wherever he is. I have to believe."

  She stepped into the shower and stood for a long time under the hot water. Showers were a luxury. Back on Paradise Lost, she could only shower during the brief moments before artificial dawn, sneaking into the communal showers outside the brothel, places that reeked of mold and sex. Here aboard the Jerusalem, Rowan lingered under the stream, eyes closed, letting the water flow over her, steam against her skin, sear away her pain.

  I live in comfort now, Rowan thought. I have a bunk of my own, a real bed, a chair and desk, not just an HVAC duct. I own real clothes, the uniform of a proud military organization, not merely a blanket I turned into a ragged dress. I eat real food, not scraps stolen from the trash. I have real friends, not just friends from books and movies. Her tears mingled with the water. But I wish none of this had happened. I wish I could go back to Paradise Lost. Back home. I wish I could stop being so afraid.

  Her doorbell rang.

  Rowan started, sure that the attack was here. Yet no klaxons wailed. When she peeked from behind the shower curtain, she saw no red lights.

  "Be right there!"

  She hurriedly pulled on her uniform, passed a hand through her wet hair, then slipped on her goggles, which she used as a headband.

  "Coming!"

  She rushed toward the door, then paused and reached for her pistol, her beloved Lullaby. Its stock was carved of aromatic wood, and brass gears shone above its trigger. She strapped a belt around her waist, then holstered the gun.

  Just in case it's a scorpion ringing the doorbell, she thought with a wry smile.

  When she opened the door, she saw Emet there.

  "Sir!" She stumbled back and saluted. He had never visited her cabin before.

  He nodded. "Corporal. I have an offer for you today. A surprise, if you will. I thought that you might like to—" He froze and frowned. "Are your pants inside out, Corporal?"

  She glanced down and her cheeks burned.

  "Ra damn it!" she blurted out. "I mean—sir! Will you excuse me, please?"

  She rushed into the bathroom, fixed the mistake, then rushed back to the front door. She saluted again.

  "Sir, ready for duty!" Her wet hair dripped across her face, but she dared not flick it back.

  Emet gestured with his eyes.

  Rowan flushed again and zipped up her fly.

  "Sorry, sir," she whispered, too mortified to speak any louder. "I don't look much like the savior of humanity, do I? I'm so awkward and goofy."

  As if on cue, her goggles slipped down her forehead and settled, crooked, across her face.

  Emet smiled, and his smile eased her terror. "Sometimes, it's not the brave big heroes who save humanity, not the shining knights or legendary warriors. It's the simple people, awkward, endearing, and brave."

  She pushed her goggles back up. "Well, I don't know about endearing and brave." She began tugging on her boots, wobbled, and fell. She looked up with a groan. "But I've got the awkward covered." She rose to her feet. "Sir, how can I serve today?"

  "It's your day off, isn't it?" Emet said.

  Rowan nodded. "Yes, sir. I thought I'd spend it watching movies, but sir, I'm glad to train today." She winced. "Truth is, I need to keep my mind off things. I'm worried sick. About meeting Jade again. About Bay missing. About this whole damn mess. I know you are too, sir."

  Emet nodded. "I worry about my children every minute of every day. With every breath." Suddenly such pain filled his eyes. He seemed almost vulnerable, almost fragile. Then his face hardened, and he was the Old Lion again. "Corporal, for your day off, I wanted to show you something. Follow me."

  They left her quarters and walked along the Jerusalem's central corridor. As they walked between other bunks, soldiers stood at attention. There was a nervousness in the air. The men's knuckles were white around their rifles. The gunners stood stiffly at their posts, ready to fire their cannons. The shields stayed at maximum power, and the Firebirds were flying outside in tight patrols.

  The Inheritors had not kept their location secret. In fact, they had been broadcasting it across the galaxy, chattering of an Inheritor base on Helios, of Emet Ben-Ari and Rowan Emery aboard the flagship.

  We're calling you, Jade, Rowan thought. Soon enough, maybe even today, you will come. Soon our fleets will clash. Soon thousands will die. Soon you and I will meet again. And I will spring the trap.

  Emet took her to a hatch near the back of the ship. He opened the door, revealing a shaft and ladder.

  "You like machines, don't you?" Emet said.

  "I love them, sir."

  "Then come. Today I will show you the Jerusalem's engine room."

  Rowan gasped. She took a step back and gaped at him.

  "Sir! The engine room of a starship!" Her eyes dampened. "For so many years, I dreamed of seeing one. Thank you, sir!"

  He gestured at the shaft. "After you."

  Grinning, Rowan scurried down like a monkey. She emerged into a vast chamber. She walked forward, jaw hanging open, staring around with huge eyes.

  "Oh, sir," she whispered. "It's beautiful."

  Massive pistons, as large as bathtubs, were pounding. Gears like dinner tables were turning. Pipes ran across the walls and ceiling, hissing and rattling and humming. Cables, sprockets, and fuel tanks rose like miniature cities. At the back of the room, a nuclear reactor was humming, encased with steel, rising as tall as a house. Everywhere were levers and buttons, hundreds of them. Rowan walked through this mechanical city, eyes like saucers, listening to the hissing and rumbling and humming, gazing at the moving gears and pistons, feeling the heat and cold and vibrations.

  "I could live here," she said, turning toward Emet. "Can you let me live here?"

  "Usually my soldiers hate engine room duty."

  "Not me, sir. I love it here. Once this war is over, I'd love to become a mechanic, if you'll let me. Well, a mechanic or a film director. I still haven't lost hope of filming Dinosaur Island. That's the movie script I wrote. I—" She cringed. "Sorry, sir. I sound like a proper nut."

  He gave her an odd look, then sighed. "I'm used to it, Corporal. And yes, once this war is over, I will send you to an engineering class. Alien universities don't accept humans, but we have our own teachers. Would you like that? The fleet always needs more engineers."

  She gasped, then leaped forward and hugged him. "Sir, thank you! I promise to become the best engineer in the fleet." She bit her lip, then stepped back, her cheeks flushing. She looked around her. "I recognize a lot of this machinery. The nuclear reactor powers our conventional, sub-light speed engines. The pistons pump up the engines. Those furnaces give us life support, and that's an air filtration system. That's a water tank, isn't it? Wait, two water tanks, one to cool the reactor, one for drinking. But sir." She frowned. "Where is the azoth crystal?"

  Emet led her toward the center of the room. A graphene pipe rose here from floor to ceiling, and smaller pipes branched of
f from it, leading to turbines near the exhaust. Emet typed a security code into a keypad on the pipe, then swung a latch open. Inside hovered a lavender crystal the size of a heart.

  "An azoth crystal," Rowan whispered. The crystal shone, casting its purple light upon her.

  Emet nodded. "A crystal that can bend spacetime the way a diamond can refract light. With this crystal, we can form a bubble of spacetime around us, the very fabric of the universe, and travel faster than light. This little piece of azoth, mined from a moon called Corpus, is worth more than the ship it's installed in."

  Rowan reached out to touch out, but Emet grabbed her wrist.

  "Careful," he said. "It's quite hot."

  She pulled her hand back.

  She stared at the pipe. It was large enough that she could have squeezed inside. She raised her eyes. The central pipe connected to other pipes on the ceiling, which in turn branched off, forming a labyrinth. She stared at ducts above. Rattling. Whispering with cold and hot air.

  "I want to go back to my cabin," she whispered.

  "Rowan, are you—" Emet began.

  She ran. She ran across the engine room, reached the shaft back to the main deck, and began to climb.

  She was halfway up when her head began to spin. She froze, clinging to the ladder. The shaft seemed to constrict her, closing in. She was stuck in the throat of a metal monster. Below her the engines were rumbling, clattering, shrieking. Bonecrawlers were screeching, waiting below, crawling toward her. Marshcrabs lurked above, ready to pounce. She clung to the ladder, trapped between the beasts, trembling. Trapped for years. Trapped in the ducts. Trapped in darkness. Pest. Pest! And she couldn't move, and her tears flowed.

  "Rowan?"

  A deep voice bubbled up, echoing in the engine room. Demonic. The voice of Belowgen the marshcrab, hunting her. The voice of Sin Kra, Emperor of the Hierarchy. She wept.

  I'm trapped. I'm trapped. Help me. Leave me alone. Leave—

  A hand tapped her foot.