Star's End

  I fielded questions of my own: I was the second choice, for people who couldn’t get up to Dad. The R-Troops filed off the stage so that the guests could speak to them directly and, in Dad’s words, “get a sense of how they operate.” I stood beside the stage, spitting out generic non-answers to the breathless questions of the crowd. The R-Troops had broken ranks to mingle. An old businesswoman spoke with the one closest to me, eyeing him up shrewdly, and I wondered if he was the one who had looked at me during Dad’s speech. But then a man in an Amana-style caftan stole him away and handed him one of the glasses from the trays. I couldn’t tell any of the R-Troops apart.

  It was dizzying, overwhelming, but I did what I’d been trained to do since I was a child. I was glad to be free of the mess now, though, and no one was going to bother with the plumeria maze when there were other wonders at the party.

  I walked along the path, the blossoms tinting everything with a silvery lavender sheen. They were bright enough to drown out the light from Coromina I. My dress rippled over my legs. The fabric was slick and cool like water, a syn-fabric from the Talu system that was perfect for the climate here. The damp breeze blowing through the window also blew straight through my dress, cooling my skin.

  “Esme.”

  It was still strange to hear her voice without the distortion of the holorecordings. It always took me a moment to place it. I turned around and Harriet leaned up against the plumeria bushes, looking handsome in her black-and-reds.

  “Some show your father put on for us.” She pushed away from the plumeria and ambled toward me, her hands shoved in her pockets. She kicked at the ground with her big black boot. I had come out there to be alone, but I realized I was happy to see her.

  “It’s a typical strategy,” I said. “Get the word out to as many planets as you can. Stirs up buyer interest.”

  Harriet looked up at me, half-smiling in the hazy light. “You sound like him.”

  My cheeks flushed hot, and I looked away.

  “No, that’s not what I mean, exactly.” She moved toward me and put a hand on my shoulder. Just for a second. Then she snatched it away like she’d done something wrong. “It’s just, seeing my daughter standing up there, announcing this new type of soldier—” She stopped, locked up at the sky. “When I first found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t fucking believe I’d been so stupid. I was more reckless then. Hadn’t expected anything to happen with your father.”

  The wind gusted hard, knocking the plumeria around. There was a chemical afterscent on it, a sharpness that made my throat itch. A military starship flying too close to the ozone, maybe.

  “I remember standing in medical, the test results blinking on the holo, and knowing I was going to have to send you away. I told myself at least you were his eldest. That was the thing that reassured me. He wouldn’t be cruel to his eldest.” She looked over at me. The wind billowed my dress out beside me, and I felt disoriented and strange. Pulled apart. A long time before, Rena had warned me not to become too much like my father, and here was my mother, trying not to tell me that it had happened anyway.

  “I cried the day I left you with your father, and mercs don’t cry. They beat it out of us. But I cried that day.” She shook her head, eyes gleaming as she looked at me. “Did I do the right thing, Esme?”

  My mouth was too dry to speak. The wind howled. A rainstorm was blowing in. All those guests were going to be running for shelter soon.

  “I don’t know,” I finally said, and fixed my gaze on the plumeria plants. Their light seemed to pulse. My mother was right to ask that question, and she didn’t even know the whole story. I was only there, a Ninety-Nine, because I had betrayed my sister. Because I did what Dad demanded of me. I told myself I wanted to run the company my own way, wanted to turn the focus on PM, but what did that really mean now? There were dangers there that I hadn’t even known about until a few weeks before. Dangers, a voice whispered in the back of my head, a voice that sounded like Isabel, that had more of a right to be here than I did—and yet I couldn’t think that way. It was my job to protect the people of the Four Sisters.

  “We all do things we regret,” Harriet said. She took a step closer to me, cautious. “God knows I have. But please don’t let those things consume you.”

  I blinked away tears. Mercs don’t cry. But I wasn’t a merc.

  Harriet lunged forward, her movement sudden and surprising, and pulled me into an embrace. It was awkward. Hesitant. Uncertain. “Don’t let him change you,” she whispered fiercely.

  Her words cut at me—I was afraid it was too late for that, because he’d been changing me since I was a child. But I didn’t say anything, only squeezed back, my eyes closed as I tried to stave back the tears. The wind roared through the plumeria, and there was that chemical scent again, stronger than before. I pulled away, wiped at my eyes. And finally I found my voice, and I said, “I won’t, I promise,” even though I wasn’t sure it was a promise I could keep.

  There was a sound like the earth breaking into two.

  I shouted and clamped my hands over my ears even though it did nothing to stop it; I could feel the sound inside my bones, vibrating every part of my body. Harriet was in a fighting stance, a knife out, head whipping around—the knife had come from nowhere; she must have had it tucked away under her uniform because the mercenaries weren’t supposed to have weapons as part of their formal uniforms.

  And then a horrible, sickly yellow light spread across the maze, drowning out the light from the flowers. I stumbled back, tripped on the heel of my shoe, and landed hard in the dirt.

  Harriet’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear her, only that horrible roaring. She was looking at me. Pointing at the ground.

  “I can’t hear you!” I screamed.

  She slammed down on the ground beside me and shouted in my ear. “Stay here! It’s hostiles! Stay here!”

  Hostiles? OCI?

  Harriet scrambled away from me and disappeared in the turn of the path up ahead. I craned my head back, looking up at the sky. The yellow light burned at my eyes, and that chemical scent was everywhere. I blinked, scanning the sky for an OCI ship—they were violating a million treaties, attacking like this. What the fuck were they thinking?

  I struggled to my feet. The thrumming noise was fading away, but sound was muffled. Distantly, I thought I heard screaming. I stumbled forward, one hand braced against the plumeria, head tilted back to take in the sky. It wasn’t a ship light, I realized. The sky was veined, as if it were an egg cracking into pieces.

  A bolt of dread shot straight through my heart.

  This isn’t OCI.

  I kicked off my shoes and ran barefoot. I cut through the plumeria branches and sweet-smelling glossy leaves slapping me across the face. The screams grew louder and clearer. A few seconds later, I shot out into the lawn.

  The party had turned to chaos.

  I sucked in a deep breath of air, trying to steady myself. The yellow light made everything look washed out and alien. Guests streamed around the house, fighting to get to their cars. Everyone was looking up, twisting their necks around at odd angles, terror shining on their faces. The soldiers ran wildly, crisscrossing the yard, trying to get back to their camps—to their weapons. Their holos shrilled and beeped and blinked in wild, incongruous patterns.

  My breaths grew deeper and deeper, turning to panic. I stepped out into the grass and peered up at the sky. The yellow veins were wider now.

  “The sky’s coming apart,” I gasped, and it sounded absurd but it was the only thing I could think. The sky was coming apart and the sun was shining through.

  A hand clamped on my arm.

  “Ms. Coromina?” It was one of the estate soldiers. Private Water. “You shouldn’t be here. You need to get to the safety shelter.”

  “Do you know what’s happening?” I drew myself up, tried to will the tremor out of my voice.

  “Ma’am, with all due respect, none of us knows what the fuck is going on.” She glanced at h
er holo and her eyes went wide. “Fuck! Where’s Private Sky-4? Tell me what’s going on!”

  A crackle of voices from her holo. I moved away from her, toward the house. I needed to find my sisters. I needed to get us to safety. But as I raced toward the house and the roiling crowd of party guests, my time at PM came back to me—these were my citizen-employees, and it was my job to care for them.

  I jumped on the stage where the band had been playing and grabbed the amplifier. “Attention!” I said, and a few heads actually turned toward me. “Everyone move into the house. Head to the staff stairs! That will take you into the cellar! It’s the safest place. Go! Go!”

  My voice boomed out across the yard, echoing the booms of the sky as it fell to pieces. I jumped off the stage and raced toward the house. Some of the guests had listened to me, and they crammed themselves into the doors. Someone threw a floating light through the windows, shattering the glass. By now, some of the Alvatech soldiers had returned with light rifles, and they herded the guests, shouting for order. I stayed on the stage, scanning the crowd for my sisters. The yellow light made everything hard to see. It was getting brighter. I glanced at the sky. Those cracks weren’t cracks anymore. The starry darkness was being consumed by ugly yellow light. I choked back a scream of fear and felt it strangle in my throat.

  “Adrienne!” I shouted, although my voice was lost in the riot. “Daphne! Isabel!”

  I jumped off the stage. Adrienne and Daphne I had seen during the presentation, but Isabel I’d only seen before the party started and not after—

  God. Isabel.

  I ran through the yard, pushing through Alvatech and Andromeda Corps soldiers, spinning around in my dress, the skirt tangling in my legs. My feet were coated in mud. The R-Troops, I thought. If they could connect with each other, maybe they could connect with Isabel.

  I grabbed the arm of a passing soldier, jerking her to attention. “The R-Troops,” I said. “Where did they go?”

  She glared at me. “You think I care about Coromina’s—”

  “I’m Esme Coromina!” I shouted, drawing myself up. “Where did they go?”

  Her eyes widened with recognition. “Toward the woods.” And then she raced off, shouting instructions into her holo.

  I whirled around, heart pounding. The woods loomed up ahead, a black hole that swallowed the light from the sky. But what other choices did I have? Finding the R-Troops was my link to finding Isabel, and she was my best shot at finding the twins. I glanced over at the house. Guests were still scrambling to get inside. Everything was stained yellow. It turned my stomach.

  I took a deep breath and ran toward the woods. I didn’t let myself think about my decision; I just plunged forward, arms pumping. Distantly, screaming started again, panicked and shrill. I looked up at the sky.

  Something dropped down to the earth.

  I slowed my pace, unsure of what I’d seen. My panicked imagination? No—there was another, a dark bullet careering toward the ground. Another, this one closer. It landed in the grass with a cloud of sulfuric smoke and then unfurled itself, too-long limbs and glossy black feathers.

  For a moment, I was back in the woods on a balmy night, the light red instead of yellow, and I knew exactly what was dropping out of the skies.

  Screams erupted in the distance. I turned and ran as hard as I could, zigzagging toward the tree line. I screamed out Isabel’s name. No answer. The wind blew hot and chemical. Pain radiated out from my chest. Just a little farther and I would be at the forest, and I’d find the R-Troops and I’d find Isabel and I’d find a way to stop this.

  A blast of hot wind billowed out from the direction of the house. I slammed into the woods and slowed, gasping for breath. I whirled around. Star’s End was glowing. That yellow light burned my retinas.

  “Esme! I told you to stay put!”

  For a moment, I thought my mother was a hallucination. I jerked around and there she was, stalking toward me with a light rifle strapped across her chest.

  “Mom,” I whispered without thinking. It felt right on my tongue, more right than Harriet. But I didn’t think she heard me.

  “I’ve been looking for you, goddammit.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the trees. I shook my head.

  “No, I’m trying to find the R-Troops. They’re linked to my sister—”

  “Your sisters are with your father.” Her eyes gleamed with focused intensity. “There’s an escape ship set up on the beach. First thing I found out.” She stopped, jerked up her gun, head cocked like she was listening. I tried to slow my breathing but I couldn’t. Sweat dripped down my spine. “It’s a damned invasion. Not OCI.” She looked over at me. Our eyes caught. “It’s them.”

  I nodded.

  She closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. “Let’s get you off this planet.”

  I gazed over at the house. Was it burning, or was it just the light? I couldn’t tell. But here I was, leaving again. Just like I’d done during the flu outbreak. This was what the Coromina family did. We fled during times of terror.

  “No,” I said. “I’m not going. It’s not fair. All those people—”

  “Those people are already dead.” Harriet pushed her hair away from her forehead. “This isn’t your fault, Esme. It’s your father’s. He should never have terraformed this place. Come on.”

  She started weaving through the trees. My sisters were safe, she’d said, but I was certain she only meant Adrienne and Daphne. Isabel was out there. She was a part of this, somehow.

  I wavered in place. The yellow light filtered through the tree leaves, creating long unusual shadows. Harriet stomped through the underbrush up head. “I’m not letting you die here!” she shouted at me over her shoulder.

  The wind blew through the tree’s branches, and the light shifted, and I saw patterns in it. Spots of negative space. That night, I hadn’t just seen the Radiance; I had seen their home. And I knew, caught in the prism of yellow light, I was seeing it again.

  “Wait!” I screamed.

  Harriet stopped and turned to me in exasperation.

  “I want to stop this,” I said. “This attack. Please.”

  She frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  I looked at her, pleading. “Just wait for me, please. Just wait.”

  She rubbed her hand along the grip of her gun. I focused on the visions in the light.

  And then I stepped through them.

  It was easy, easier than it had been that night a week ago. The forest vanished in a blink; the yellow light turned cool and pale. Blood pounded in my ears. I stepped forward, and my bare feet slid across smooth, slick stone.

  “Isabel?” I called out. My voice echoed.

  I lifted my gaze around the room. The ceiling rose up so high, it almost vanished from view. The cubes of light drifted through the air. I listened for hissing, but there was nothing, only a deep, thudding silence.

  “Isabel!” I shouted again, and I realized I’d been wrong, that she wasn’t here after all.

  And then I heard the echo of a single footstep.

  I whipped around, my mud-stained dress swirling around me. “Isabel?” I said.

  She appeared out of the shadows in increments: her eyes, her hair, hands, her mouth.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

  Here here here, said the echo in the room.

  “Isabel.” I gasped with happiness and jogged toward her. She let me. She let me grab her by the shoulders and pull her into a hug, although she didn’t return it.

  “Please,” she said, her breath hot against my ear. “Leave. Get away. Offworld. Out of the system.”

  Her voice was jagged. I looked at her and saw that her eyes were red with tears.

  “Please,” she said.

  “What the hell is going on?” And then, without thinking, I said, “What have you done?”

  Isabel’s face twisted and it was then that I realized what I’d said. I slapped my hand over my mouth, shook my head. ?
??No, Isabel, I didn’t mean—”

  “You think I want this?” she screamed. Her hands were balled up into tiny, inconsequential fists, but her eyes raged. “You think I want to choose between two families?”

  “You don’t,” I said, moving toward her, holding out one hand. She jerked away before I could touch her. “They aren’t your family,” I said. “We are.”

  Tears streamed down Isabel’s cheeks. “You have no idea what they are!” she shouted. “You look at them and you just see a monster, right? Is that how you see me?”

  “No,” I said. My hand was still stretched out toward her, hanging stupidly in the empty space. “God, no, Isabel—”

  “I told them it wasn’t right,” she hissed, “to kill innocent people. That it wasn’t our fault—” Her voice hitched. “There aren’t many of them, you know. Only about a hundred. And they don’t deserve to die either.”

  She knelt down on the floor and covered her face with her hands. I didn’t know what to do. I moved closer to her. I wanted to scoop her up, drag her to the escape ship. Make her come with her family. I didn’t understand how she could look at those creatures out there and see herself in them.

  “Isabel,” I said softly, and then her hand lashed out, and she was pressing her fingers to my chest, her eyes boring into mine. Her face flushed red and she let out a scream and jumped away from me and I knew she had peered inside my head. I knew she had Seen me.

  “How can you expect me to see myself in you?” she spat, pressing herself against the wall. “The Divested are taking back their home, and you—you just went along with everything Dad said. You didn’t care!”

  “Isabel,” I whispered. My face was wet with tears. “That’s not what I meant.”

  She just glared at me. Her body was flickering in and out of visibility. “Get out,” she said, and then she said something in her language, hissing and deep. It shot straight through me.

  “Isabel, I didn’t know,” I said.

  “You do now. And you still didn’t stop it.”

  And then she winked out of my sight. The big, hollow room wavered around me. I could see the forest in the distance, hear the muffled boom of artillery fire. But I couldn’t move. I could only stand there, weeping.