Phoebe North - Starbreak

I will speak to the senate, he said, and then out loud he added, “This is not good-bye.”

I gave his fingers a squeeze. Behind him an Ahadizhi guard let out a grunt.

“Ahadhu Esh!”

“You must go,” Vadix said. Then he smiled wistfully. “We offend them. They do not understand.”

“They don’t have to,” I returned, my mouth still raw from the force of his kiss. I stood up on tiptoes and pressed my lips to his cheek one final time, breathing in the summer-sweet scent of him. It was intoxicating. It smelled like hope .

Then I ran for the shuttle, not looking back even once as I slammed the steel door closed behind me.

As I ducked into the shuttle craft, all eyes were on me. Even Mara Stone, garbed now in a heavy flight suit and helmet, had a gaze that seemed to burn straight through her visor’s artificial glass. After pulling the heavy door shut, and spinning the handle closed, I turned back to face their prying eyes.

“What?” I asked. From a seat beside the wall, where she sat with one arm crooked over Ettie, my sister-in-law leaned forward in her seat. Hannah’s voice was muffled as she spoke, thanks to her thick helmet, but her words were undeniable.

“You.  And the translator.”

I squared my shoulders. If there had been any doubt about the connection between Vadix and me before, then our kiss had made it crystal clear. But I had no reason to be ashamed. I walked to the back of the shuttle, where the flight suits waited in their box. I hated to garb my body again in the synthetic fabric—but at least I still wore Vadix’s soft robes against my skin. They enveloped me, as strong as any embrace, as I stepped into the suit and fumbled for a zipper. I saw a flash. Laurel’s soft, pale hands, helping me out of that impossible dress on the last flight I’d taken. Now a stranger was our pilot, an old man who had waited all this time for Mara Stone’s return. I swallowed the lump down, and zipped the suit up tight.

“He’s going to help us,” I said, bending over to fish for a flight helmet. I spoke easily, like it was nothing—like it was normal to kiss an alien boy. “Speak to the senate on our behalf, see if they might not be convinced to reconsider.”

“Why?” came Jachin’s voice, hard and chilly. “Why would he care if we’re to return to Earth or not? What’s in it for him?”

I clutched the helmet, staring at my reflection in the glass. My face was a blurry, pale blot in the visor. But the shadows of my eyes were huge—my mouth small. I was grotesque. Strange. And alone. Outwardly you could see no sign of Vadix, though I felt him even now. He walked down the pier, his head held high despite the ice-and-dagger sting of the snow-swirled air. Determined. Resolute.

“He’s a kind person,” I said softly. I stood and found an empty seat in the row in front of Mara. They were all quiet, their helmets turned expectantly toward me. They wanted answers, but I didn’t know how to give them. Not yet. “He wants to help.”

“You mean he wants to help you ,” Jachin said. Beside him I saw Rebbe Davison raise and let fall a hand.

“What’s wrong with that? Does it matter whether his motivations are pure if he wants to help us?”

At this they all erupted—their voices rising up even over the sound of the warming engine. At last, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mara Stone unbuckle herself, stand. She pushed a button on her helmet. The visor slid back, revealing her haggard face. And yet when she spoke, she spoke with force.

“Quiet!” she bellowed. Their arguments tripped, stuttered, and finally spluttered to a stop beneath the engine’s roar. They turned their visor glass toward her as they waited for the botanist to speak. “Do you know who else was concerned with the romantic lives of their people? So worried about who bedded whom, about the foolish hearts of the Asherati and how they might be led astray? The Council, that’s who! No better than the lot of them. Is this to be the new guard, same as the old? Disgusting!”

I peered curiously up at Mara, though she didn’t meet my gaze. Who had she been once, when she was young? I knew she’d put off marriage until the Council made one for her. I knew she’d put off children, too. But had she ever loved someone? Maybe it had been a strange, forbidden love. Like Koen and Van’s. Like mine.

I expected someone to object. Through the blurred glass of her helmet, Hannah stared at me across the aisle. But even she didn’t dare to speak. Mara settled in again, pulling her straps down over her shoulders.

“She’s right,” Rebbe Davison said. He was speaking slowly, carefully. “Aleksandra was afraid of Terra’s connection to the translator, but she shouldn’t have been. Without that, we’d have nothing. We might as well do what Rafferty says, pack up for Earth and leave with our tails between our legs. But the translator’s powerful. He has connections with the senate. That makes Terra powerful too.”

Jachin whipped his head up. “What are you suggesting, Mordecai?”

My teacher lifted the glass of his helmet back. As his gaze went to me, he drew in a breath, holding it for a long time.

“We’re without a leader now. I have no desire to take up Aleksandra’s mantle. But if we don’t throw our support behind someone, a usurper is bound to take her place. I’d like Terra to step up instead.”

For a long time no one answered. There was only the roar of the warming engine. Then Hannah began to laugh, dry, skeptical laughter. But no one joined her.

“How do you feel about this, Talmid ?” Mara asked. I turned to her, expecting to read judgment in her eyes. It had taken her so long to support the rebellion. She thought that we were outsiders both, not joiners. But her expression was patient, intent. I realized she would accept whatever answer I gave. Maybe leadership was different in her eyes. Maybe she thought I could effect change better by standing with my people—not against them.

How did I feel about it? I sat back in my seat, gripping the armrests with both hands. Once, the idea would have seemed laughable. I’d never wanted power; mostly I’d just wanted to be left alone. But it seemed that was no longer an option. I looked out across the shuttle’s rows, caught Ettie’s gaze, held it. She’d come here because of me. Now it was up to me to see that she was cared for, safe. Still, my heart was weighted by my doubts.

“I killed someone,” I said softly. “Mazdin Rafferty. You all know that. I’m no better than Aleksandra.”

“Sometimes leaders have to make difficult choices,” Rebbe Davison said. “Aleksandra’s mistake wasn’t killing her mother. Not only that. It was that she never dealt with the consequences that were waiting for her up there on that ship.”

I closed my eyes. I could hear my pulse in my ears, feel the overwhelming fear that tightened my throat. But then I heard a voice, warm and soft inside my mind.

I believe in you. You can do this. You are strong—stronger than they know.

“I’ll do it,” I said, my voice still hoarse as I opened my eyes. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

Rebbe Davison smiled at me. Mara, leaning forward in her seat, gave my shoulder a clap. The others might have regarded me doubtfully, but I ignored them. Mara and Rebbe Davison believed in me. Vadix, too. That meant the world.

“Well, then, Talmid ,” Mara Stone said, “give the order.”

I glanced forward doubtfully, uncertain at first. But then I saw Jachin lift his lips in a bemused smile. He gestured toward the shuttle pilot, the one who waited with his hand on the ignition.

“Pilot!” I said uncertainly, and they all smiled at that. “Prepare for takeoff. It’s time to go home.”