Jennifer Wells - Beyond the Stars - At Galaxy's Edge

Quarium. The word echoed in his head like a bitter medicine. Quarium was energy, power, wealth. Death. This unique molecule only existed in remotest parts of the galaxy, in the seabed detritus of icy cold oceans. That’s where the Yaxees had first found it on Aplaya‌—‌their home planet. No, not home. The one they conquered and settled on after destroying their own.

Because that’s what the Yaxees were.

Destruction.

Something hard pressed against Hyleesh’s ribs. His throat was dry, his tongue chalky. He rolled over and coughed until it felt like his lungs were turning inside out. Then he closed his eyes and collapsed again.

Warmth awakened him. A pencil of light brushed his face, dust motes dancing in it as though they had a life of their own.

They didn’t. Nothing on Yulia had life anymore.

He ran a hand over his cheek and his fingers came back white with dust. He was lying under a slab of concrete that had fallen on a metal cabinet and shielded him from the rubble that had followed. With some labor, he managed to roll to his side. The pencil of light was fanning through a small hole. He grabbed a piece of brick and scooped out dirt until the hole was wide enough for him to crawl through.

The sudden light made him wince. He stood up, dusted off his clothes, and cupped a hand around his eyes.

In broad daylight, his view of what had become of Sunan was dismal.

The city skyline was gone, replaced by dune after dune of rubble. The wreckage was visible all the way back to the ocean, where a yellow smear of fog draped the horizon. The two buildings he’d flown into had vanished, replaced by the hill he was standing on. Peaks spiked out of the debris here and there, like solitary soldiers left standing in the desert.

He wondered how much radiation still lingered in the dust, how much was getting into his bones, his lungs, his flesh. The sun was harsh on his dry skin. He longed for water, for a shower, for his ship.

His ship.

The thought pumped adrenaline back into his veins. He scrambled down the pile of rubble and back into what was left of a street. He found the jammed rotors of the mosquito on the ground a few feet away, stuck into a lump of twisted and charred metal. There was nothing left to salvage. One thing did grab his attention, though.

Tire tracks. Everywhere.

There was no way to mistake them. At least two feet in width, these were tracks left by the SATVs.

They came looking for me.

How long have I been out?

The sun scorched his eyes, still he craned his neck up, shaded his forehead with his hand, and scrutinized the sky. No white wakes marring the orange-tinted ether, only whiffs of sickly clouds blown away by the wind. Were they gone? They wouldn’t have found any trace of Quarium on this shore, Hyleesh was sure of that. But would they have left Yulia completely?

Unlikely.

There were three major oceans on Yulia, all black in color and icy cold‌—‌the telltales for Quarium deposits. Zika wasn’t going to give up until he’d drilled holes in all the shores on Yulia.

Unless during the testing they’d found his ship, in which case they’d still be at the shore ripping it apart.

Damn it.

He had to get back there fast. He started down the street walled by crumbled slabs of cement when a wave of dizziness caught him. He doubled over, fighting the nausea. He’d gone too many hours‌—‌maybe days?‌—‌without food or water. His vision blurred. Ghosts of heat swirling up from the debris made him jump.

Just a mirage.

Have to find water. Have to.

He stumbled inside a building. The top floors had shattered, but the ground ones were still standing. Holes gaped where once had been doors and windows.

The reek of rotten flesh negated the respite from the cooking temperature outside. Walls were missing, beams had fallen from the ceiling and scattered on the ground, together with shoes, torn fabric, and other clothing items‌—‌some with their original owners still attached to them.

His brain didn’t even register the horror. He moved on automatic, desperately searching for water. He stumbled on broken desks, chairs, torn cables, shattered pieces of electronics, and tripped on a hard object, crushing it under his boots.

An empty plastic bottle.

There was a metal cabinet lying on its side nearby; he opened it. Its contents had been completely pulverized. Bits of broken plastic, electronics, and office supplies‌—‌everything had reduced to fine dust. The massive radiation released by the Quarium propulsion bombs had completely wrecked everything, bodies and objects alike.

He banged the cabinet door. It had once contained water bottles and now all there was left was a small plastic cap that quietly rolled to his feet.

Hyleesh sighed.

There has to be something drinkable. Any kind of drinkable.

He waded deeper into the building. The inner rooms were windowless, no ambient light from outside. He dipped a hand in his pocket, fished out a flashlight, and clipped it to his uniform lapel.

Primitive but good enough.

After deserting his own troops, he’d gotten rid of all the electronic paraphernalia that could make him traceable. As much as he missed his flexible-screen SmartComm and all the useful apps it came with, his fellow Yaxees would’ve already found him and killed him if he still wore one of those around his wrist. He found the bathroom stalls, and for a short moment the unmistakable reek of urine covered the stench of rotten flesh. He tried the sinks, his boots crunching on a layer of mirror shards. Without electricity, the photovoltaic cells that controlled the faucets were useless. He grabbed a broken pipe and banged against the taps until he knocked them all off the wall. Not a single drop of water came out of the pipes.

Hyleesh roared in frustration, thirstier than before. What had he done to himself? He had a good life, captain of one of the best trained corps in the Yaxee army. He was a young promise in his fleet, bound to quickly climb to high military ranks, just like his father...

His father.

His father was a rapist and killer.

Once banned from the galaxy for destroying their mother planet, the Yaxees had become powerful again thanks to Quarium fusion. They rebuilt their military fleet and expanded their domain. Cities on Aplaya flourished and doubled in size. But they wanted more. And when the neighboring planet Yulia threatened to use Quarium too, panic spread through the Royal Council. Quarium was too powerful to let other planets use it.

Yulia was ruled by anarchists, the land marred by a history of political instability.

Hyleesh’s father was one of the members of the Royal Council who’d voted for war. “Three billion people, three major oceans, enough Quarium to destroy the entire planetary system,” he’d said in front of His Majesty, the Kraal. “We will attempt to resolve this peacefully by demanding that they surrender the Quarium. If they refuse, they will face the consequences.”

The Kraal signed off the Council’s decision and gave the order. Zika and his fleet were deployed. The inhabitants of Yulia refused to let the Yaxees land on their beautiful shores. The planet was exterminated.

And now they’ll learn that there’s no Quarium.

Yulia was too cold for that, too old of a planet. Only Andrameis planets had Quarium, but Yulia was older than Andrameis, older than any other world in the two-star system. The planet had originated from Salis, the smaller star. A handful of academics pointed it out. They were shunned, ridiculed and disbelieved. One was found assassinated inside his home.