Betrothed Episode One

  Chapter 14

  Anna Carter

  It was when I found the computer cores that I heard something: an alarm fracturing the air like claws lacerating skin.

  It instantly set my back shivering, my knees quaking, and my ears ringing. My body pumped so full of fear, it was like pure panic had been injected right into my bloodstream.

  I started to shake, my sweaty palms clinging against the collar of my tunic as I stared around me with wide-open eyes.

  “The facility is detecting an intruder,” the computer said in its electronic, emotionless tone.

  “What kind of intruder? Is it a patrol?” I asked. Even as I asked it, I realized it wasn’t. I could feel the vision trying to form in my mind, but my body was still so tired. It couldn’t seem to push through.

  A searing pain erupted behind my left eye. Rather than a full-blown, detailed hallucination, I saw formless shadows.

  I pressed a hand over my left eye and turned, backing away from the console I’d been working over. “What’s going on?” I asked in a terrified voice that shook through my chest.

  “The facility is detecting an intruder,” the computer explained again. Even though its tone was still electronic and emotionless, I swore it picked up a beat, just as my heart threatened to shake out of my chest.

  I kept walking backward with jerky steps until my foot struck a console and I stumbled backward, locking my hands onto the panel behind me. I turned my stiff neck from left to right; the vision was trying to push its way into my mind. But it was weak, too weak to see.

  I could only discern dark shadows, but no detail.

  Pushing a hand over my left eye, I whimpered, falling down the side of the panel until I sat on the floor, a huddled mess of pain and fright.

  “The facility is unable to identify the intruder,” the computer pointed out.

  I pushed my back into the panel behind me, my shoulders shaking so much they sounded like rain pattering against the metal.

  Suddenly, another warning alarm blared and then another. I stared at the viewscreen that took up the wall in front of me, and warning light after warning light began to blink on it. I kept a hand pressed over my eye and tried to dig in as far as it would go into the skin, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop the pain. It was like the vision was trying to tear out of my mind.

  I couldn’t stop shaking.

  Suddenly, I heard a crack from the corridor outside my room.

  I screamed.

  …

  Lieutenant Mark Havelock

  I landed on the planet.

  My computer detected Anna Carter’s bio-signs, and it had also confirmed the presence of a stalker.

  As soon as my ship landed and the hatch opened, I flung myself forward.

  My only enemy now was time.

  If I didn’t reach Anna first, I’d have no chance. Stalkers were efficient. They weren’t like people – they didn’t have minds, they didn’t have beliefs, wishes, and desires – they had a mission.

  And they followed that through with cold efficiency.

  It would take the stalker less than a second to kill her.

  So I had to get there first.

  As I ran blindingly fast without the assistance of armor, I brought up my weapon.

  Despite my better judgment, I’d called them. I’d told them about the stalker, and surprisingly, they’d told me how to defeat it.

  There wasn’t meant to be a weapon in the universe that could defeat a stalker. Only the Illuminates could do it.

  Stalkers, being nothing more than energy, could withstand most blows. A punch, a standard shot, even pulse rifles wouldn’t do a thing; the blow would sail right through the stalker’s diffuse form.

  You needed an enormous amount of directed energy to take one down. And you had to be extremely quick; as soon as the stalker knew what you were doing, it would diffuse its form into its environment – spreading out until it was nothing more than a thin layer of particles scattered over a distance of as much as a few thousand kilometers.

  And yet, they had given me a weapon which they claimed would work on the stalker in a single shot, maybe two.

  Maybe it was a trap. That made more sense. Maybe they didn’t like what I was doing, and they wanted to replace me. So they’d sold me the lie that this gun would defeat the stalker, and when it ultimately failed, the stalker would kill me and they would find another means to get Anna Carter.

  Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this gun would work.

  They’d sent me the specifications, and I’d manufactured it in the synthesizer on my ship. During the manufacturing process, the computer told me several times that the gun’s design was unknown and its purpose unpredictable.

  I pushed myself forward, throwing my body up an incline until I breached a hill. Before me was a facility.

  A long-range communications facility. Before I could question why Anna Carter was in there, I hurled myself into a sprint, fingers tightening around my gun.

  I had to get there before the stalker reached her.

  …

  Anna Carter

  There was a boom, and the wall shook.

  “Intruder attempting to enter the room,” the computer informed me. If I’d imagined there’d been no emotion in its tone before, now I swore its tone shook.

  Or maybe that was because I shook – every part of me shook. From my convulsing shoulders to my mind.

  I didn’t bother to press a hand over my left eye anymore. That wasn’t to say the pain had gone away; it was still there, searing as if someone had stuck a hot iron into my eye socket.

  But what was the point?

  Something howled. It wasn’t a wolf or a tiger or some alien animal.

  It was a sound I’d never heard before. It sounded metallic, like some great structure about to crumble under an even greater force.

  And yet it also sounded organic and intelligent.

  Suddenly, there was a warning alarm louder than any before. It split the air with its intensity. I slammed my hands over my ears, huddling further against the panel until I could make myself no smaller.

  Then the alarm stopped.

  Every alarm stopped.

  The lights that had once been blazing their way over the viewscreen blinked out.

  In fact, the viewscreen and every other panel went dead.

  There was a hiss from behind me, and the door opened.

  I didn’t turn to stare at it.

  I didn’t move at all. I couldn’t. I was soldered to the spot, stuck by my own pounding, bone-rattling fear.

  The computer didn’t say anything. Either it realized it was all over and there was no point in pointing that out, or it too had been turned off.

  I felt a rush of air enter the room.

  No, not air; it was warmer, thicker, different.

  Despite the overwhelming fear, I managed to push myself up. I ground my shoulders into the panel behind me, and I used it to stabilize myself as I walked my back up.

  I stood, my knees so stiff I wobbled on the spot.

  I turned toward the door.

  I stared at it.

  The lights went out.

  At first, I saw them blink off in the corridor beyond. One after another, then the darkness reached my room too, and everything went black.

  But that did not make it dark.

  I saw something move into the room around me.

  Some kind of energy. A crackling white-green cloud.

  I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t regain control of my throat long enough to try.

  The cloud didn’t move like gas or any other normal substance; it shifted about the room as if it were looking for something as if it were sentient.

  I couldn’t breathe. I was choking, gasping for air, and I couldn’t dare push my chest out far enough to inhale.

  That diffuse cloud of white-green energy stopped. Though it didn’t have a face, I swear it stared at me.

  Run. Something told me.

  Run.
/>
  I took a jerking step backward.

  My move was quick, scared, and as soon as I made it, the cloud made an equivalent quick, jerking move. It was terrifying to see. It had all the instinctual intelligent movements of an animal, without the hindrance of a body.

  It looked at me for one more thoughtful second.

  Then it moved.

  It rushed toward me, like water from a broken dam.

  I screamed, and so did it. A terrifying slow grating howl that ripped through the air and echoed far into the corridor.

  It didn’t reach me.

  It didn’t reach me.

  Suddenly, a shield burst into place in front of me, and the cloud smashed into it, its diffuse body crackling against the force-field, sending sparks exploding into the room and dancing over the floor like glittering red fireflies.

  I choked, letting go of a tiny high-pitched wail as I stumbled backward and into a wall.

  The cloud, far from being disintegrated, brought itself back and then slammed its diffuse body into the force-field.

  The force-field buckled like it was nothing more than a thin piece of paper being pushed by a finger.

  It didn’t fall, not yet anyway, but as the cloud brought itself back for another assault, I instinctively knew the shield couldn’t take another blow.

  It didn’t have to.

  There was a sound from the corridor, I heard it even over the crackling of the force-field.

  So did the cloud. It darted around, swimming through the room like a water snake.

  It didn’t make it far.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” someone said.

  The voice was male, and I swore I recognized it, but before I could figure out who it was, there was an enormous flash of energy through the room.

  I had no idea where it came from, but it was so bright I had to slam my hands over my eyes lest I be blinded.

  That cloud let out another scream, this one so guttural it shook through the floor and trembled up my feet.

  I whimpered, clutching my hands harder over my face as I huddled against the wall.

  “Well, what do you know? This gun does work,” someone said.

  There was another blinding flash of light.

  Then a scream, one that echoed not just around me but through me.

  The shield in front of me failed, and I felt a rush of cold air slam against my body. It set my head banging into the wall behind me.

  Then silence.

  Silence until I heard footsteps. Not the rush of air indicating the cloud was slamming toward me.

  No, footsteps. And if I was any judge, they came from a human.

  I forced my eyes open.

  I looked up.

  Someone entered the room.

  Mark.

  He was holding a gun. It was massive and had glowing lines tracing down the barrel.

  “There you are, Annie. You okay?”

  Shaking, I forced myself to stand. “Mark?”

  He nodded. Then he spread his arms wide as if he expected me to throw myself at him.

  I wanted to. He’d just saved me, right?

  That meant I had been wrong about him. Didn’t it?

  Maybe he hadn’t been holding me in that makeshift hospital for some nefarious reason. Maybe he’d been doing it for my own good.

  I should have done what he’d asked and just trusted him.

  So why wasn’t I throwing myself at him?

  The invitation was there as he swept his arms open. Yet I couldn’t force my body forward.

  Something was happening behind my left eye.

  The visions were trying to push their way through, harder than before.

  I started to shake, and I brought a hand up and slammed it over my eye.

  Mark’s eyes narrowed with interest.

  He brought a hand behind him and grabbed something from the holster connected to his belt.

  There was a hiss, and a strange smell filtered through the room.

  As soon as I breathed it in, I felt dizzy.

  In fact, I tipped backward.

  “Whoa, steady there.” Mark spread a hand toward me.

  After a few seconds of instability, my balance returned.

  And, fantastically, the pain disappeared.

  There wasn’t even a hint of tension behind my eye anymore.

  I blinked, my confusion obvious as I tentatively touched my cheek and eyebrow.

  “You’re right, kid,” he assured me as he reached around and locked the enormous gun onto a holster along his back.

  “… Mark?”

  He pressed his lips together and offered me a subdued smile. “You ran away from me, Annie. I only ever tried to keep you safe.”

  I glanced at my feet. “I… I’m sorry?” I couldn’t keep my tone steady. Was I sorry?

  Could I trust Mark?

  Of course I could, my rational mind kept telling me. He just saved me from that cloud, whatever the hell it had been.

  But why had he taken me to that makeshift hospital? What wasn’t he telling me?

  And why was he pretending I was Miranda?

  It was then that I realized he’d called me Annie.

  I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him. “Who am I, Mark?”

  He pressed his lips together and didn’t blink as he stared my way. “You’re Annie Carter.”

  I tried to control my expression, but it was hard. Extremely bloody hard.

  Everyone was telling me I was someone called Miranda. Mark had even said it.

  Now he was admitting the truth.

  “I know you want to know what’s going on, and I’ll tell you.”

  I stared at him warily. “Why did you pretend I was Miranda? Why did you take me to that strange hospital? Why were they running so many tests?”

  He spread both hands toward me in a peace motion. “Because you need to be protected.”

  “From my own name?” I asked with exasperation.

  He looked at me seriously. “Yes.”

  I balked at his strange reaction. “Mark, what the hell is going on? What did you do with my betrothal certificate? Why did you pretend I was somebody else?”

  “Because, kid, you’re Annie goddamn Carter. You’re betrothed to Illuminate Hart,” he said, genuine frustration shaking through his tone.

  Mark hardly ever reacted with anything but cool, composed calm. But here he was, his eyes wide, his lips tight with tension, and his words tighter.

  I shook at his statement.

  He kept those wide-open eyes locked on me. “Annie, you’re one of the most important people in the universe right now. You have to be protected.”

  There was such a fervor behind his words, I couldn’t help but stare at him. “So why… did you pretend I wasn’t Annie Carter?”

  “To keep you away from him,” Mark answered through a clenched jaw.

  “… What?” I shivered.

  “I don’t know if you’ve ever met an Illuminate, Annie, but they’re terrible people. They are responsible for everything that is wrong with this universe,” as Mark spoke he pointed to the floor with a stiff finger, emphasizing every word.

  I stared at him. “I’ve… I’ve met an Illuminate,” I admitted.

  Mark became reserved.

  “He was horrible,” I added.

  His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “They are all horrible. Are you honestly telling me you want to be married to one?”

  I went to shake my head, but for the strangest reason, I couldn’t. It took all my energy to override whatever was stopping me until I let out the jerkiest shake I could.

  “Of course you don’t.” Mark moved toward me, opening his arms wide.

  I didn’t shift back.

  He laid his palms on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. “Annie. You can trust me, you know that, right?”

  I paused for a long time, staring up into his eyes. Eventually, I nodded.

  I could trust Mark, couldn’t I?

  I re
ckon I knew him better than anyone else in this universe, and he definitely knew me better than anyone else did.

  He was my rock.

  My rational mind kept returning to that point. Mark Havelock was my rock.

  “So why… why did you stick me in that hospital and run tests on me?” I managed in a subdued tone as I stared at his unwavering gaze.

  “Because this is… complicated,” he managed.

  “Complicated?”

  “We needed to confirm you were definitely betrothed to Illuminate Hart,” he said, his eyes darting around as if he was searching for his words.

  Or maybe that was just my paranoid mind trying to convince me he was lying.

  I shook my head to dislodge my thoughts. “And did you confirm it?”

  He nodded. “Which means it’s critical we keep you safe from him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s an Illuminate, Annie. You may not know much about this universe, but I do. They are responsible for everything that is wrong,” he repeated, his jaw becoming so stiff it was a surprise he could push his words out.

  I hated it when people told me I didn’t know much about the universe. Maybe that fact played across my face, because Mark suddenly shot me a smile.

  “Hey, kid, it’s not all bad. Now I’ve found you and saved you from that stalker, I can take you someplace safe.”

  “Stalker?”

  He shrugged over his shoulder toward the center of the room. “That cloud of energy that was attacking you.”

  “What… what was it?”

  “One of the deadliest assassins in the universe,” he appeared to answer honestly.

  I shivered. “Why was it after to me?”

  “Because,” he paused, “because one of the Illuminates sent it.”

  “What?”

  “Annie, this is so much more complicated than you can imagine. But first, we really need to get out of here.” He offered me another smile. The kind of smile that reminded me of how kind Mark was. How often he went out of his way to protect and shepherd me.

  I softened. “Mark, I’m so sorry,” I began, voice shaking.

  He patted his hand on my shoulder, his lips spreading even wider. “Don’t mention it, kid.”

  “But I should never have escaped that hospital. And I shouldn’t have told Captain Fargo about you—”

  “You spoke to Captain Fargo?” He asked, suddenly on edge.

  “Mark, I’m so sorry.”

  “… It doesn’t matter. Just come with me, and I’ll take you someplace safe.” He extended a hand toward me.

  I didn’t have to consider it; I took it.

  Because I could trust Mark.

  As he led me out of the room, I didn’t question where he was taking me. I didn’t question, because it felt as if every doubt had been swept from my mind.

  For the first time in days, I was thinking clearly without a hint of pain and with no visions on the horizon.

  The visions….

  As Mark led me forward, his hand blessedly warm against my own, I pondered whether I should tell him about my hallucinations, if that’s what they were.

  I opened my mouth several times as we walked, willing myself to reveal my secret. Yet I couldn’t.

  Something stopped me.

  …

  Lieutenant Mark Havelock

  This was easier than I’d thought it would be. Whatever had been in that ‘medication’ was clearly working.

  Annie was like butter in my hands.

  I couldn’t stop the smile of satisfaction from spreading over my lips as I led her out of that building.

  I kept shooting her sideways glances. She looked confused, tired, but none the wiser.

  Occasionally pangs of guilt would assail me, but I pushed them back.

  I knew what I was doing, I kept telling myself, and I knew why I was doing it.

  A brighter, more peaceful, better universe waited for me.

  And in order to win peace, you always had to sacrifice something in a war.

  “Thank you so much,” Annie suddenly said.

  “… For what?”

  “For being so reliable. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” she said when we finally reached the outside of the building.

  There was a strong wind, and it caught the ends of her hair, sending them tumbling over her shoulders and the collar of her plain tunic.

  I allowed myself to get distracted by her hair so I didn’t have to appreciate her sentiment.

  “Mark, I’m so sorry. What was I thinking? You’re the most trustworthy guy in this whole universe, aren’t you?”

  “Hmm,” I managed.

  Most trustworthy guy in the universe? She wouldn’t be saying that if she knew I was a graft. Then again, simple little Annie Carter would have no idea what a graft was, just as she had no idea what a stalker was. If she’d had even the slightest clue, she would have realized an Illuminate could never have sent one after her; the Illuminates were sworn to track down every last stalker and eliminate them from the universe. But that’s what would make this mission simple, right? Annie knew nothing. She was like leading around a deaf, blind, dumb assed sheep.

  Even as I entertained that thought, I frowned. Or some part of me frowned. Whatever vestige of humanity remained under my graft.

  “Where are you taking me anyway?” She asked after a lengthy pause.

  “Somewhere safe,” I repeated, dropping her gaze and pretending to focus on the horizon instead.

  “… Where?” She pressed.

  I darted my gaze toward her, looking for any hint she’d seen through my lie.

  No, she was just curious.

  I turned to her, grabbed up her hand, and patted it. “Annie, you’ve just got to trust me. Can you do that?”

  Her eyes watered with tears. “Yes, of course I can.”

  “Atta girl,” I said condescendingly.

  Annie didn’t notice and just smiled back at me. Because that’s what Annie was like. Sure, she knew nothing about this universe, and she had the courage and ability of a bunny rabbit. But for all those faults, she made up for them with kindness.

  She wanted to believe the best in people.

  But sometimes, you shouldn’t. Because sometimes people weren’t good. Like me, they’d had the good surgically removed and the bad grafted over whatever remained.

  The wind picked up again, whistling over the bare rocky expanse that reached from the cluster of buildings to the security fence in the distance.

  I glanced toward the fence, then shifted my head and looked over my shoulder.

  Why had simple, sweet, stupid Annie Carter gone to this long-range communication facility? More to the point, how the heck had she broken in?

  These places had secure defenses, and it wasn’t as if you could just walk in and knock on the door.

  I wanted to ask her, but I knew the answer: the ability. The same ability I had suppressed with the use of the so-called medication.

  I wanted to ask her what it was; I burned to know how Annie, of all people, could hack through the security of Cluster. But I wasn’t allowed to know, and I knew asking wouldn’t help; Annie would have no idea what was happening to her.

  Still, I let my gaze dart over the buildings behind. The massive satellite arrays were clustered in the middle with a high thin tower between them.

  My eyes narrowed. I swore I could see a black dot in the distance, past the tower, maybe a good 50 km away. Ordinary human eyes wouldn’t have been able to pick it out, but I was far beyond ordinary.

  I stiffened and stopped.

  Annie walked several steps before she realized I’d paused. She turned, hair playing across her cheeks as she stared at me inquiringly. “What’s the matter?”

  I focused in on that black dot as it became larger and larger.

  It was a ship.

  Christ, it was a ship.

  Instinctively I reached for the gun behind me, grabbing it off my back and whipping it around, thumbing the
charge button.

  “Mark?” Alarm punched through her tone.

  “Get down,” I hissed.

  This gun could take down a stalker in two shots, so I hoped like hell it would work on that ship.

  The ship darted toward me, and I let off a shot, but despite my skills, I wasn’t quick enough; the ship darted out of my bullet’s path.

  As the ship neared at a blistering pace, I realized it looked like a prototype. Modular in design, it was made of sleek white-blue metal. Even though it was still a good 20 km away, I could detect the insignia along its side: Foundation Special Forces.

  Christ. That was a prototype ship, one with a prototype AI.

  Was somebody else after Annie?

  I darted back, shunting the gun into my shoulder as I steadied the barrel and fired off another round.

  Taking pot shots at a prototype ship was insane, but I didn’t have any choice.

  I heard Annie fall onto the ground beside me, I even heard her throw her hands over her head and dig her trembling fingers over her face.

  Suddenly, I felt a tingle erupt through my body. It was one I knew well.

  Somebody was trying to transport me.

  Trying, but failing.

  I was a graft, and if I didn’t want to be transported, I wouldn’t be. There were enough sophisticated devices grafted onto my body and implants embedded into my brain that I could disrupt a transport signal with ease.

  The effect would also work on Annie, as long as she stayed close to my side.

  Should she wander off by 10 or so meters, my dampening field would be ineffective.

  “Annie, stick close,” I screamed as I kept on trying to take shots at the ship.

  I’d been able to tackle the stalker because it had been distracted and hadn’t thought I’d be able to kill it in two shots.

  I’d had the element of surprise.

  This time, I didn’t have that on my side. This time, I was the one being hunted.

  I swore again, stumbling back as I tried to use my sophisticated senses to track the ship.

  I suddenly realized that if Annie hadn’t been by my side, this ship would have transported her away long ago.

  I’d been an idiot.

  Walking her across open ground, that was a rookie’s mistake.

  The prototype ship was now close enough that I could smell its propulsion drives.

  I watched Annie shudder back, practically banging into my side. Then her terrified expression slackened. “Isn’t that… my ship?”

  My head swung around as I stared at her. “Your ship?”

  The ship kept circling us at a distance.

  It was waiting for a clear shot, wasn’t it?

  It may be a prototype ship, but its weapons were too high yield. It wouldn’t be able to take me out without threatening Annie at the same time.

  I darted toward Annie, grabbing her by the wrist.

  “What are you doing?” She squealed.

  “Keeping you safe,” I lied.

  I was saving my own ass.

  “Annie,” a voice boomed out from the ship. “I am the AI of this vessel.”

  “The computer?” Annie stuttered.

  I held onto Annie’s wrist tighter and tighter.

  “You programmed me to warn you of Lieutenant Mark Havelock.”

  “Warn me?” Annie’s voice shook.

  “Don’t listen to it,” I shouted, “I’m the only one who can keep you safe, Annie.”

  “He is dangerous,” the AI repeated as the ship swung above us.

  I brought my gun forward and took a shot at it.

  The blast sailed past its hull, not even searing the paintwork.

  I tightened my grip on Annie’s wrist again until she squealed. “Mark, you’re hurting me.”

  “We have to get away from here.” I kept her right beside me as I walked backward, gun pointed at the ship.

  Rather than head toward my own vessel, I backed away toward the long-range communication facility.

  “You cannot trust him,” the AI repeated. “You must escape.”

  Annie’s eyes were open wide, her irises shaking with fear and surprise.

  I pulled her along. If I could make it inside the building, maybe I had a chance. The ship wouldn’t dare bombard it while Annie was inside.

  “Annie, you’ve got to trust me,” I said through bared teeth as I pulled her along.

  “You must escape,” the AI retorted.

  On the word escape, I felt Annie shiver.

  So I pulled her along harder.

  I wasn’t going to lose.

  …

  Anna Carter

  What was going on?

  What was happening?

  Mark’s grip dug into my wrist like it was steel beams pushing into the flesh.

  He kept pulling me along like he was dragging dead weight.

  “Hurry up,” he hissed to me, “run.”

  That ship – my ship – kept circling us.

  The AI had told me I shouldn’t trust him.

  But… Mark was my rock, wasn’t he?

  Suddenly, my mind filled with doubt, the same doubt that had seen me escape that makeshift hospital.

  If Mark had only ever been trying to keep me safe, why had he pretended I was Miranda? Why not admit the truth back then? Why not tell me I was Annie Carter, I was betrothed to Illuminate Hart, and it was imperative I be kept away from that man?

  No.

  Suddenly, I remembered the look in Mark’s eyes every time he lied to me. That distant, cold, calculating look.

  And the way he twitched every time I’d mentioned my betrothal contract.

  Could I trust this man?

  He kept pulling me forward with a vicious force.

  He was so strong.

  So incredibly strong. This didn’t feel like fighting somebody twice my size; it felt like fighting a ship.

  And come to think of it, the way he shot so blithely at my vessel defied a keen eye. Several times he’d almost struck it.

  It hadn’t been potluck; he’d been aiming.

  An ordinary man couldn’t aim at a darting ship.

  What was going on here?

  “You must escape,” the computer told me, its voice echoing over the rocky terrain as Mark dragged me toward the buildings. “He is employing dampening technology, and I cannot transport you in his presence. You must escape, you must escape.”

  Dampening technology?

  “Annie, trust me,” Mark said through clenched teeth, his voice sounding like a hiss of steam.

  Trust him?

  I had to decide, didn’t I?

  Could I trust Mark?

  I suddenly realized why it was I’d escaped that hospital in the first place.

  It hadn’t been me; it had been the vision.

  But now the vision was gone. No more pain, no more shadows darting before my eyes.

  In fact, the vision went when Mark had appeared.

  Could those two facts be connected?

  If the force behind my hallucinations was still present, wouldn’t it be telling me – no forcing me – to run?

  As I questioned that, as I pushed myself into that thought, I also pushed myself into that sense. The strange one. The one that went beyond the fluxing visions in my mind. That deeper, wider, longer sense of premonition that sat right within my middle.

  The one that had warned me something was coming every time I looked up at the horizon and those three perfectly shaped moons.

  I settled my awareness on it.

  Fear sparked out of it, traveling fast through my belly like electric shocks to the flesh.

  I suddenly stopped, trying to pull myself back against Mark’s grip.

  He stiffened, turning his head over his shoulder as he glared at me.

  I’d never seen an expression like that. Not on Mark. It was hatred, anger, some cold, terrifying violence.

  And it answered all my questions.

  “Let me go,” I said, voice pitch
ing into a scream. “Let me go.”

  “Fine, I can drag you,” Mark snapped.

  Then he brought his hand around in a punch.

  It didn’t connect.

  The vessel shot the ground 10 meters to our left, the earth-shaking like it had been hit by an earthquake.

  Mark was thrown off balance, and I fell to my knees.

  My ship shot the ground again, this time closer to Mark.

  Though my ears rang and my teeth shook in my head, I managed to push myself to my feet.

  Then I staggered toward the building.

  Toward safety.

  I heard Mark roar from behind me. He pounced to his feet.

  “Annie,” he screamed.

  It was the most horrible sound I’d ever heard.

  I didn’t waste time looking over my shoulder; I knew he was right behind me.

  The ship darted low. So low, it was barely half a meter from the ground.

  Then it did something incredible.

  It rammed Mark.

  Straight on.

  I screamed until it felt my throat would crack.

  Oh, my God, Mark had just died.

  Just as that thought flashed through my mind, I saw the ship tilt, and Mark fell off the front, body limp as it struck the ground.

  I hesitated.

  Then the unimaginable happened: Mark got up.

  He brought his gun around and shot the ship front on.

  It obliterated the vessel’s shields in a scattering of sparks and sliced off a chunk of the hull.

  Mark had just been run over by a prototype spaceship, and he was fine.

  “Run,” the computer blared at me.

  I turned.

  I ran.