Daniel Arenson: The Heirs of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 1)

Rowan sat inside the Brooklyn , wrapped in a thermal blanket. According to Fillister, she had spent only nineteen seconds in the vacuum of space before Bay had rescued her. Strange. It had felt much longer. Another second or two, and it would have killed her. Her eyes were still bloodshot, her face bruised, her skin raw. Medics had injected her with life-saving fluids, treated her for ebullism and hypoxia, and prevented the worst of the space sickness. Even so, Rowan felt like she had been turned inside out, run through a blender, dunked into a frozen ocean, burned in an oven, and finally run over by a steamroller.

And it felt amazing.

She was alive.

She tightened her blanket around her, then gazed through Brooklyn's porthole at the remains of humanity's fleet.

"We failed to beat them," Rowan said. "I thought that we could defeat the scorpions. That we could save the millions who cry out in the gulocks. That I could get my sister back." She turned away from the porthole. "But they won. They won, Bay. What will become of us now?"

Brooklyn's cabin was cluttered and small, barely larger than a modest bedroom. A few of Bay's drawings hung on the wall, and his clothes lay on the floor. He rose from his chair, then sat beside her on the bed.

"We're still here," Bay said. "A few of us survived. There's still hope."

"I'm afraid, Bay. I'm so afraid. This isn't like the movies at all. When you came into my life, when you promised to save me from Paradise Lost, I thought . . . I thought I was going on an adventure. Like in the old stories. Like Frodo or Luke or the rest of them. But they always defeated their enemies. They always won, Bay." She lowered her head, shaking. "I thought I would find a galaxy of wonder. But I found darkness and loss."

Bay embraced her, and she wept against his chest.

"Rowan, there is always hope." He stroked her hair and gazed into her eyes. "Those heroes, the ones from your stories—they had to go through much darkness before finding the light. They had to travel through lands of despair before finding realms of plenty. I believe that there's hope for us. That we can still pass through this darkness. That at the end, we can find . . ."

"Find what, Bay?" she whispered, gazing into his eyes. "Find what?"

"Earth," he said.

She smiled, tasting her tears. "So are you with us, Bay Ben-Ari? On our quest to Earth?"

For a long moment, he was silent, but then he spoke softly. "Ten years ago, Rowan, I fell in love. I fell in love with a sunny planet where my father was recruiting warriors. I fell in love with a local girl. I fell in love with a life away from war. I thought my heaven would be there. So I ran away. I was fourteen, and I stole Brooklyn, and I ran from my father and hid in the forest and vowed to remain on that sunny paradise." He looked into her eyes. "Then the scorpions came. I was the only survivor."

She touched his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"For a long time, I blamed my father." His voice choked. "I was angry. I thought he didn't fight for that world the way he fought for Earth. But I understand now. That Earth is our home. The home that was stolen from us. The world we evolved on, fled from—and to which we must return. So yes." He too smiled. "I'm with you, Rowan Emery. I'm with all of you. I'm with the Heirs of Earth."

She pulled him into a crushing embrace. They sat together for a long time, holding each other, silently weeping and laughing.

"Hey, Bay?" Rowan finally said, wiping her eyes.

"Yeah?"

Rowan grinned and pulled out the Earthstone. "We should watch the second Lord of the Rings movie now."

"Oh God no." Bay paled.

Rowan's grin widened. "You have no choice. I'm making you. Making you! Even if I must sit on you, and squish you, and force you to stay in place, you're watching this movie with me."

He sighed. "No use arguing with a hobbit, is there?"

She grinned. "Nope!"

"On one condition." Bay opened his little freezer and pulled out a plastic package. "We also eat these. Pancakes! They're only the frozen kind, not real ones, but—"

"Frickin' pancakes!" Rowan pulled him into a crushing embrace. "A dream come true!"

They ate, and they were delicious.

Rowan then streamed the movie onto his monitor, and they lay together on the bed. Back in the ducts, when watching the first movie, they had been cramped, forced to lie holding each other. There was more room here, but Rowan still snuggled against him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she kissed his hand. He stroked her hair throughout the movie, and she smiled softly. Though the galaxy burned, and her heart was filled with loss and fear, for the next three hours, Rowan felt safe in his arms.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

The Heirs of Earth flew for long days. Finally, Emet led them to a snowy planet orbiting a small cold star, a world far from civilization.

Yet not a world far from war, Emet knew. Not a safe world. A new Galactic War has begun. Soon there will be no safe world in the galaxy.

He stood on the bridge of the Jerusalem , this battered tanker, this old warship. This place where he had lost so many friends. He gazed down at the frozen world. A sanctuary. A world far from home.

They had only a handful of starships. Most could not fly in atmosphere, and they remained in orbit. The survivors descended to the surface in shuttles. Three hundred Inheritors had flown to battle the scorpions. Half never made it back. Emet led the survivors through the snow. Flurries billowed their blue coats and stung their faces. Many were wounded. They carried some of the wounded on stretchers. The sky was dim, even at noon. The sun was small and blue and cold.

Finally they reached the caves in the mountainside. They climbed inside to find the rest of their people. Over a thousand humans sat inside, wrapped in blankets. A few engines, taken from shuttles and mounted on metal frames, provided heat.

These people escaped the horrors of the gulocks, Emet thought. They deserve better than a frozen cave. Yet they are far more fortunate than the millions who still cry out. Who still die in agony. Whom I still must save.

The people gathered around him. They whispered prayers. Some reached out to touch him, to thank him.

"Bless you, Emet Ben-Ari," said an old woman.

"Bless you, lion of Earth!" said an old man.

"Blessed be the heir of Queen Einav, the Golden Lioness," said a young woman, eyes shining. "Blessed be the prophet who will lead us home."

Emet looked at them all. Ragged, hungry survivors. They believed in him. They saw him as a hero.

But I'm no hero, he thought.

He noticed that Rowan kept her distance. That she sometimes glanced at him with fear. Even with hatred.

I had to do it, Rowan, Emet thought. To open the airlock. To blast Jade out. Even if it meant sacrificing my life—and yours. She is more dangerous than you know. She has killed millions. And she will kill again.

He tried to meet Rowan's eyes, but she looked away. Emet knew that it would be a long while before Rowan forgave him. Maybe she never would.

Emet looked over the crowd in the icy cave. Bay stood nearby, wearing his old hood and baggy sweatshirt whose sleeves hid his hands. Rowan stood by him, wearing her uniform, still carrying Lullaby, her pistol. Leona stood there too, wearing her blue blazer with the brass buttons, and her mane of brown curls flowed across her shoulders. There was a new strength in her eyes, but a new peace too. Hundreds of warriors and a thousand survivors stood farther back. All of them were the Heirs of Earth.

Emet spoke to them.

"Today we mourn our fallen. Today we grieve for the loved ones we lost. Let us stand in silence. Let us remember our martyrs."