‘You made a brilliant action hero!’ Raj laughed.
‘That’s what scares me.’
Justus smiled, simply happy to be back where he was meant to be. He looked to Aíron Veryan. ‘And you.’ She blushed and gazed at her feet. ‘You saved our skin back there. You’re definitely worth more than most. As far as I’m concerned,’ he said, looking to Dimal, who nodded her agreement, ‘you’ve earned your place on the Flux.’ The red-haired girl beamed and clenched her fists in exhilaration. ‘Just remember, Aíron, that life here isn’t all blaster-wielding bar brawls. It’s hard, and—’ he looked to Dimal again, and then to his tattered boots ‘—you’re not here to replace Kaara. Understand that.’
‘I do,’ she squeaked.
‘And by the way,’ Dimal said, focusing her attention on a grinning Rajkumar, ‘don’t lie to me again. I know it was you who let Aíron hide on board. I think maybe it’s ration duty for you for the next month.’
Raj rolled his eyes and smirked at Aíron, before clapping his hands together. ‘Well, all’s well that ends well. Now can we drink?’
‘There’s just one more thing,’ Justus said. ‘Something important.’
CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
‘FEAR OF LOSS. Fear of losing oneself. Fear of losing one’s dreams. All can lead us to insane decisions and actions.’ Callista stared across the empty dining table at Anna and Justus early next morning. ‘But have no regrets. Things have a way of not turning out the way you expected. The journey’s not yet over.’
The two nodded and glanced to each other.
Justus had just finished revealing to them the Moon and Triangle mark upon his left wrist, and had explained all he could of Edgar Mokrikov’s silver journal. It was now safe within Callista’s cloak, and she would have it translated from Rovaña as soon as she was able.
‘So much confusion,’ the old woman said. ‘So much scheming and conspiring. But now we must decide where our destinations lie. You must both look forwards now, not back.’
Anna took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry I brought Gílana with me and caused so much evil.’
‘Whatever you have caused, child, not an ounce of it was of evil intent or doing. But I must accept a great portion of the blame. If I had given you more guidance, perhaps you wouldn’t have felt so lost, and would never have considered leaving. And for that I’m sorry.’
‘Even still,’ she said. ‘I was foolish to think that running away from Titan would solve my problems. If my uncle says I’m not ready to join the Titanese Guard then I’m not ready. I just have to wait until he decides I am.’
The old Iástron felt a great sense of pride swell within her at Anna’s words, and she smiled kindly to let her know that. She chose not to tell her the devastating news given to her from Adra Dimal that her uncle had taken Titan to war in her absence. Not yet anyway. She herself was unsure of whether Ruben had scored successful backing to do so. The Systems were once again at war. Now along all paths the future was uncertain.
‘Besides,’ Anna said, ‘we’ll soon have a new baby in the family. Gílana needs me now more than ever.’
‘That she does,’ Callista said, before turning to Justus. ‘And what about you? Will you return to Titan with us? I’m sure you’d be very welcome, and much needed. And I’ve gotten to know your rabble-of-a-crew quite well. They’re certainly an interesting lot!’
‘Interesting is one word,’ he said. ‘I’ve never felt closer to a group of people. And being away from them these past weeks has made me realise it. They’d stand by me in anything. I should never have left them.
‘But,’ he said, fixing his gaze on Anna, ‘it’s for that reason that I can’t go to Titan with you. My crew has agreed to return to Earth with me, so I’m going back.’
‘Are you sure?’ Anna asked, the disappointment evident in both her voice and expression.
‘More than I’ve been about anything,’ he said. ‘You’ve stopped running. I have to stop too. Plus . . .’ He hesitated.
‘Plus?’ Callista prompted.
Justus thought carefully. ‘Plus . . . Peter said something to me back below Tempest-Beta. The things happening on Erebus didn’t begin on that station. Those responsible are still out there, and if the Beasts and the Zinn aren’t the only creatures out there then this isn’t over. Peter said to me, “The moon is our ally, Antal. Seek the answers on Earth.” I don’t know what he meant, but—’
‘Well if Peter Marx told you to go to Earth,’ Callista cut in, ‘then there’s no doubt you must do so!’
He nodded. ‘I have to make sure that Peter’s sacrifice wasn’t worthless. That it wasn’t in vain.’
The moon is our ally. Callista had no idea what it meant. That disturbed her almost as much as her own journey. The elderly man Dimal had met on Mars had sent the Flux for her. He’d known of her presence on Titan as well as where to send them for Peter, Anna, and Justus. So who sent the call when it had obviously not been her master? The old Iástron, though troubled by this, had lived long enough to know that if something was meant to be known, she eventually would discover it. Patience is all it would take.
‘That,’ she said, shaking herself awake, ‘is your own quest, Antal; a pursuit you must take on your own. Be careful. You can trust no one. But the pressing question we must now ask is what we are going to do about your echo.’
Justus frowned. ‘My what?’
‘Your gift from Peter. I sense you’ve received an echo of the master’s gift. You touched him, did you not?’
‘As we parted,’ he said, nodding, ‘we clasped hands. I hadn’t even thought about it.’
‘Understandable,’ Callista said, ‘given the moment.’
‘What will he do?’ Anna asked.
‘He will go to Earth. He will do as Peter said. And if he is meant to, then he will use his power for whatever purpose he chooses.’
‘Is there any hope?’ Anna asked. ‘For Peter, I mean. The stories said he couldn’t die, that he was immortal.’
Callista bowed her head. ‘If he survived the explosion, which at this moment is so unlikely, he would still be buried beneath tonnes and tonnes of rock, rubble, and dirt. Immortal he can still be . . .’ she closed her eyes ‘. . . crushed, and . . . and even then he’s on a hostile world in a system with little sunlight, millions of miles from human civilization. I do not think there is much hope, but right now there is nothing we can do but leave.’
‘It’s what he wanted us to do,’ Justus said.
‘You’re right, Antal.’
Anna opened her mouth, but quickly closed it and looked down.
‘What is it, child?’
‘It’s not important,’ she said. ‘Not now.’
‘If ever there was a time, it would be now. Speak.’
Anna sighed lengthily. ‘It was something Ferranti said. It’s been a thought that’s bothered me, especially since the orb from our dreams, inside Erebus.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Ultimatter,’ she said.
‘What of it?’
‘Where does it come from?’
Callista laughed. ‘I think you already know the answer to your question, Anna.’
‘Where?’ said Justus. ‘Where does it come from?’
‘Well,’ Anna said. ‘I think she means Peter.’
‘Peter? Really?’
Callista smiled, and looked down. It was an astounding fact she’d long forgotten. ‘Petra Marka,’ she said. ‘Two-thousand years ago he was influential in the foundation of ultimatter technology. An everlasting power source. Petra Marka is of course Peter Marx.’
Justus lay back in his chair. ‘So his gift . . .’
‘Is how he did it, yes. The same life force that ran through the veins of the Iástron people, the very power that flows through me, and now you, Antal, is that power. The very same power that Peter Marx, so long ago, shared with all Humankind.’
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
A MERRY WALTZ rang
through the halls of the Stellarstream that night, the second night in a row, and it was joined by the sound of laughing, music, singing, and drinking. The captain of the ship had woken from his unwitting sleep thirsting for a bottle or two of his favourite wine; and though Noah and Callista had patched up his broken arm, Ferranti nevertheless committed himself to making the most of consciousness before the return home. It seemed the crew of the Flux was more than willing to aid him in this endeavour, and after the previous weeks’ adventures, though they could hardly be logged as such, Ferranti left the Berenguer girls safely in the medical bay and joined the crew of the Crimson Flux in his quarters.
As the early hours set in, the Stellarstream’s guests said a hiccup-filled goodnight and headed for their bunks, leaving Ferranti sat in one corner, with a now silent Gordian in the other. Amid the discomfited stillness, the latter stood and went to leave for his room. Ferranti stood also, and walking quickly blocked the open door. Silent and grim, Gordian took hold of his unbroken arm. The other, wrapped tightly in a sling, spiked into painful spasm.
‘Gordian,’ he said, ‘we need to talk.’
‘Yes, I think we do.’ He released the Captain’s arm.
‘Come with me.’
Ferranti led him from his private quarters; down deeper into the vessel, knowing perfectly that the Crilshan knew where they were going. After minutes of nothing but silence the two entered the holding area, and looked down at the clear, reinforced cube-caging, fully exposed on all sides.
Within sat Xerin Kramer and Avéne Ketrass.
Ferranti watched Gordian’s eyes widen at the small cells. He knew he couldn’t trust the assassin, regardless of whether he had saved his life down on the lightning planet or not. But he also couldn’t deny that he needed his help if he was going to get the vessel back to Titan. Alone he couldn’t do it, but together they would have a chance.
For several minutes they stood still, ill at ease. Then, out of the quiet, Gordian attempted to speak, seeming to stumble with his words, searching for something to say. Eventually he murmured, ‘I was seconded.’
‘What?’
‘My lords sent me away. I was seconded to another order. I was given a mission. I don’t know who by. I was told to stop Titan sending aid to Rotavar, and to remove Berenguer’s family.’ He looked up into Ferranti’s eyes.
‘What do you want me to say, Gordian? That all is forgiven? That the past is the past and the future unsoiled?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I just can’t be locked up again. I cannot. All my life I’ve been a slave to the system, to Crilshar. I’ve done terrible things for that system. But I’ve never been part of it. I fooled myself into thinking that it was what I wanted.’
‘But it’s not?’ Perhaps the Crilshan had woken up. Seeing what they all saw down on that planet would be enough to change anyone’s view. ‘I want to trust you,’ Ferranti said. ‘But that doesn’t mean I do. We got the girls back though. You kept your word, so I’ll keep mine.’
‘What will become of them?’ he asked, nodding towards the clear cage.
Ferranti shrugged. ‘Time will tell. When we return to Titan I imagine they’ll be pressed for information on what was happening back there. The Alignment will be forced to act after we provide our evidence.’
‘And what will become of us?’
‘You too may be called upon, Gordian. For the moment, however, the pact we made on the way down to Tempest-Beta is finished.’
‘Then I suggest we make a new one, Captain.’
‘Go on.’
‘Together, we pilot the vessel back to Titan. The lieutenant and I did it, and with both our expertise it won’t be easy, but it will be possible. Once we’re there, you set me free.’
‘And where then will you go?’
‘Far away,’ Gordian said. ‘What we saw down there has given us all perspective. I’ve existed surrounded by nothing but war and chaos. I don’t want it anymore. When we get to Titan, we go our separate ways.’
Ferranti nodded, eyes dimmed. ‘So be it.’
* * *
Ketrass watched the Crilshan Gordian through the clear walls of the holding cell. He and the blond captain had been talking for some minutes out there. Now and then the Crilshan had glanced in her direction as though she could hear what they said. She couldn’t. When the exchange ended, the Titanese captain turned and Gordian went to follow, a sickly sneer sweeping across his pale features, his dark eyes, and his thick line-scar. He winked at her and was gone.
‘Avéne,’ Kramer groaned from behind her. ‘Avéne, please look at me.’ He reached for her shoulder. She shrugged him off and sighed.
‘Just tell me that this was meant to happen,’ she said. ‘After all these years, tell me it wasn’t for nothing.’
‘You always trusted me,’ he said. ‘When no one else did you saw that I knew what I was doing.’
She turned to him and stared at his eye—she hadn’t noticed it was green before—the other masked once more by the dark metal covering; and she glanced down at his dressed stub-of-a-hand.
‘You were right.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘You were never in control. Stop deluding yourself, just once!’
He leaned in close and brought his lips to her ear. ‘We were never going to get away. If we had run they would have found us eventually, with or without Peter Marx, whether we’d fled to the far corners of the Alignment or to Titan itself. But the research we did on Erebus has to remain hidden. That’s what matters now. I understand that. And so do you.’
‘You have the research?’
He nodded.
‘Where?’
Kramer raised a single thin finger and brought it up to his dark metal face covering. Tap, tap, tap . . . tap, tap, tap.
Ketrass smiled. ‘It’s in there?’
‘Yes, Avéne. We will fight the evil we uncovered. And as long as the research remains hidden, as long as all that we discovered these past years is kept safe, unseen, and ready for us to use when the time comes, there is a chance.’
Avéne Ketrass nodded. ‘Then I’m with you.’
CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
ANTAL JUSTUS’ BLUE-eyed gaze met with Anna’s. His ship and crew stood waiting behind him, prepped, supplied, and all set to depart for Earth.
‘I don’t know what to say, Anna.’
‘You don’t have to say anything.’
‘But I . . . I feel as though I should. I know I should.’
‘Tell me what you feel.’
‘I’m glad I met you, Anna.’
‘And I’m glad I met you.’
‘I’m truly sorry about your father.’
She smiled weakly and looked away, forcing herself to forget the creature’s face. She focused on the crew of the Crimson Flux on the other side of the Stellarstream’s cargo hold, now saying goodbye to Captain Ferranti. Noah and the giant woman were climbing aboard, while the young man and red-headed girl smiled and laughed.
‘What did Callista say?’ he asked. ‘Was it really your father down there?’
Anna nodded weakly. Callista had spoken to Xerin Kramer, who had explained that her father, Dathlan, had been part of the Erebus project for the past ten years. Though who or what had stopped him from contacting his home and family in all that time remained a mystery.
‘Like I say, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s all right.’
He reached out and held her cheek. ‘At least I know the truth now. At least I know you’re one of the legendary Berenguers, and not a Driad.’
‘Don’t I look like a Driad?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘You look like a legendary Berenguer.’
‘I’m not legendary, I’m stupid. I ran away from home. I’m a coward.’
‘No. You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met,’ he said with a gentle smile. ‘Your uncle is proud to have a niece like you. And I’m certain your absence will have proven that to him.’
Anna looked deeper into his eyes, and resolved to at
tempt one final time. ‘You’re sure you won’t come back with us?’
‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘But maybe I’ll get to visit you once I’ve confronted my own demons, and hopefully not those of the horned variety.’
‘You’d be welcome anytime,’ she said. ‘Night or day. It’s because of you that I’m still here.’
‘No, Anna. Absolutely not! It was you that saved me. I did something terrible. And you saved me from myself, from the dark void I have within me, something no one else could have done.’ Anna smiled, and watched his lips. ‘Erebus has ascended,’ he said quietly, reaching down and taking her hand to peer upon the black band still binding her wrist, ‘but the mystery of the Gilaxiad is something we have yet to solve. I think we’re destined to meet again.’
And with that he leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead. She squeezed his shoulder and then punched him light-heartedly. They laughed and for a moment she felt a little like her old self again; though she knew it would be impossible to go back to the way things were. Too much had changed.
* * *
As Anna stood for what would perhaps be the last time at the viewing platform of the Stellarstream, gazing out into the depths of deep space, the Crimson Flux drifted away from the interstellar vessel. The lightning planet was now a small sphere of light in the deepening distance. Nobody was about; all was quiet. No serenity coaching. No captain or Callista, no Gordian or Gílana. She watched the Flux pass slowly by before it made the leap back toward civilization, disappearing into the dark ocean as the ship’s ultimatt engines were kicked into full capacity.
She looked down and flexed her hand, unable to feel anything past the wrist around which the black-burnished band wrapped in veined, almost alien-like strands.
Justus was right. They would meet again. She knew they would. He had saved her on Erebus; he had been with her as it had risen and fallen and done all that he could to see her to safety.
And so did Peter.
Now gazing at a sight more beautiful than even the domes of Titan had appeared, Anna experienced a moment of utter clarity; as everything around her up until now had seemed absolutely hopeless, a pale, lingering light like that of the sun reaching her home now so far away, she closed her eyes, and for some strange reason, for which she could not fathom, she smiled.