Molly Fyde and the Land of Light

communicated respect, but she knew better.

 “Lady Hooo, the Circle is in session. Your distinguished presence really is not required.” His hand rose, urging her to turn away.

“Step aside,” Anlyn said, sweeping her arm to indicate the side she’d prefer. Her voice was cool, but her eyes were aflame.

The guard stood firm, possibly out of stark terror. His eyes had moved to Edison, darting up and down his tunics, obviously just now realizing they both outranked him. Edison moved forward, and Anlyn could see his fur rippling with the anticipation of danger.

“Step aside,” Edison repeated in Drenard. “That’s an order.”

If the guard’s legs were shaking, the tunic hid his embarrassment. He bowed and slid out of the way, waving his hand at the other guards. Anlyn wondered how long Bodi had hoped these clowns would delay her and whether the shock of hearing Edison speak fluent Drenard had done the trick.

As the guards shuffled aside, like a sea of blue parting down the middle, they revealed the Pinnacle beyond: squat, round, and wide. Anlyn moved toward the old building, glancing up at the twin shafts of light streaking down to the center of its low roof.

To either side, the Great Balcony stretched off, wrapping the entire Pinnacle with a wooden platform around which Circle members could walk and confer. Anlyn had been there several times with her father, but she never dreamed she’d return one day as a member, however temporary that status.

Ahead of her, the reflected sunlight from the orbital mirrors ended in a crisp line, and the perfect shade of the eclipsing disc began. The gardens were given the luxury of natural light, but it wouldn’t do for the Circle to indulge. For that reason, the Pinnacle remained cloaked in darkness, a round slab of metal high up in orbit shielding it from the light. Anlyn sucked in a deep breath of warm Drenard atmosphere before stepping across the artificial terminator.

Edison followed, struggling to not overtake her as they moved toward the old Pinnacle doors, supposedly cut from the last living tree on old Drenard. When the two guards to either side moved to pull them open, Anlyn waved them off.

She needed to do this herself.

Reaching up, she grabbed the ornate handles on the old doors, each one standing not quite three meters tall. Male Drenards, to exaggerate their bulk, often made a show of bowing as they entered.

Especially those that had plenty of clearance.

Anlyn threw the wooden antiques open and took a step forward. She held her head high, remaining erect, despite how utterly small and insignificant she felt.

••••

“Contacts on SADAR,” Parsona said.

Molly glanced up at the security cam as she limped through the cargo bay. Mom. The reminder of her failure on Dakura hit her hard. Nothing had been learned; her mother’s old memories had not been taken care of. And now they’d never be allowed back.

“Navy!” Cole yelled. Molly hurried to the cockpit to find him leaning forward from her chair, Walter in his. She rested her hand on the back of the seat, the spot’s emptiness reminding her of the Wadi locked in her stateroom. So many concerns swirled in her mind at once that she couldn’t see any of them clearly.

“Let me have that seat, Walter.”

He unbuckled himself and jumped out, his eyes fixed on the sight of the large ship that had jumped in- system.

Molly peered through the carboglass. “That’s a StarCarrier,” she murmured, awed. She’d never seen one in person. It lay out in the L1 between the moon and Dakura, but its blocky outline was instantly recognizable.

She took over control of the ship with her left hand and nosed around for the back of the moon. “They probably won’t even notice we’re here,” she said. “We’ll get on the other side and thrust out to clear space—”

“GN-290 Parsona, KML32, this is GN Naval Command Task Force Zebra KPR98. Maintain altitude and respond, over.”

“Damn. Not good,” Cole muttered.

Molly increased thrust. She’d developed a small habit of running whenever anyone said “freeze.”

A second voice came through the radio: “Molly, this is Admiral Saunders from the Academy. We’re prepping to jump Firehawks to the other side of the moon. Do not spin up your hyperdrive. If you do, I’m going to send every missile in our fleet down your tailpipes. Reduce thrust this instant or become a fireworks display. Your choice.”

Molly took in the SADAR and nav charts. Several new contacts popped up in the free space she’d planned on escaping to. Her brain whirled, looking for an idea.

“This isn’t good,” Cole said again.

“Mollie… I don’t think we have a choice.” It was her mother’s voice. In many ways, more familiar and real than the one she’d just spent hours with—

“We could jump blindly,” Molly suggested.

Cole opened his mouth to protest, but it was Parsona that vetoed the idea first. “Absolutely not, Mollie Fyde. Don’t you dare. It would jeopardize everything.”

“As will being caught!” she countered.

“Who iss that talking?” Walter asked.

“The radio,” Cole lied. “You might wanna go strap in, buddy.”

Walter nodded and ran back to his seat.

“Molly, Admiral Saunders. We’re firing missiles in five seconds. Reduce thrust and maintain altitude.”

Molly thought about the last time she’d seen Saunders, just a few weeks ago. He’d been a Captain, then, and doubled over from a blow between the legs. Lucin, his boss, lay slumped over a desk, dead. She had a hunch the missiles weren’t an empty threat.

She keyed the microphone. “Reducing thrust,” she said, pulling back to hold her current altitude.

“What’s the plan?” Cole asked.

“I don’t have one,” she admitted.

“You had better encrypt me if you guys are planning on getting caught,” Parsona suggested. “If anyone searches the computer while I’m active, they’ll see this isn’t nav data, and your father went through a lot of effort to hide me from the Navy.”

Molly looked at Cole. “I guess the plan is to be caught,” she groaned.

“Thank you for complying, Parsona,” the first voice said. “Hold position and prepare to enter hangar bay four.”

“Roger. Hangar bay four,” she radioed back to the Navy. She flipped off the mic and turned to Cole. “Get the Wadi plenty of food and water. Enough for a few weeks. Put it in the lazarrette under one of the thruster panels. Make sure the door’s sealed to keep the atmosphere in there.”

“It’s in your quarters?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure it won’t bite me?”

“I’m sure. While you’re in there, grab the two red bands in the top drawer of my dresser. Hide them with the Wadi.”

“Gotcha.”

“Oh, and tell Walter to go along with whatever happens and to keep his mouth shut.”

“With pleasure.”

Cole shook himself out of the tall spacesuit and headed back to lecture Walter. Molly pulled up the nav screen and sighed.

“Tell me what I need to do to encrypt you,” she said to her ship.

To her mother.

••••

The balcony inside the Pinnacle stood thick with spectators, far more than Anlyn could remember in any of her childhood visits. She and Edison pushed through them, out onto the clockwise landing that overlooked the