Molly Fyde and the Blood of Billions

her. As she looked for people to tend to, she was amazed at how many of the crewmen were already working to care for the rest, losing themselves in the ability to help another.

She approached Cat, who was spreading some of the blankets from Parsona’s crew bunks out across the forest floor. She touched her shoulder and Cat turned. The two women frowned at each other, eyes glazed over with tears. They hugged, the power in Cat’s arms squeezing out some of the painful stress in Molly’s back. The touch of another, even as the embrace with Walter had shown, gave her hope that she could get over the things she’d seen, could summit the awfulness and perhaps rappel safely down the other side.

“You did good, kiddo,” Cat whispered.

They separated and Molly looked away, rubbing at the bottom of her eyes.

“Where’s Scottie?” Molly asked. “Is he doing okay? Urg—I’m the one who told him to keep looking for —”

“Stop that.” Cat turned her around and held Molly’s shoulders. “Don’t do that. He was doing what he had to. There’s bad luck involved, you’ve gotta remember that.”

Molly nodded, but only to last thing Cat said. She bent over and grabbed two of the blanket’s corners and helped spread it out over the dried leaves and broken twigs. Several crewmen immediately helped others sit down, each of them cradling a cup, bottle, or a mug of water. One of the crewmen—an older woman Molly remembered from the simulator room—tugged on Molly’s elbow and pointed over to a cluster of seated figures.

“The Admiral wants to see you,” the lady said.

Molly turned to Cat. “Be loose with the water. I’ll make a run into Bekkie tonight and top up the tank and load up with food. Don’t let anyone set up camp too close to the thruster wash.”

Cat nodded and gave her arm a squeeze.

Molly took a deep breath and marched over to the small circle where Saunders seemed to be conferring with a group of higher-ups. They fell silent as she approached, their wrinkled eyes swiveling around to watch her. She felt ridiculous standing there, on display, so she sank down to the blanket, and everyone adjusted to make room.

“Admiral.” She gave him a somber look, which took little effort given how she felt.

Saunders glanced around at the others, almost as if on the verge of dismissing them. The gray gentleman— the one from the hallway of the StarCarrier—looked at her warmly, the corners of his mouth curling up.

After an uncomfortable moment, Saunders extended his hand to Molly. She gave it a long look, then grasped it with her own.

“This isn’t a pardon, not by any stretch. It’s just a thanks. We’ll deal with the rest after—”

“There won’t be an after,” she interrupted.

The small gathering tensed up at the breach of protocol, several of them moving to say something. Molly spread her hands, gesturing to the pathetic encampment forming throughout the clearing. “This is the after,” she said.

“Nonsense,” one of the staff members interjected. “We’ve knocked the Drenards back before, we’ll do it again!”

“These aren’t the Drenards.” Molly turned to take them all in.

“Not the Drenards?” Someone asked. “Do you have any idea what—?”

Saunders held up his hands. He looked past the group and toward the rest of the survivors. “Let’s stay calm,” he told everyone.

Molly followed his gaze. She saw dozens of faces pointing their direction from the blankets scattered across the forest floor. They were shocked faces, scared faces, watching and waiting. Her sense of being on display heightened even further.

“The Drenards began pushing out of their spiral arm a week ago,” Saunders said.

Molly turned back and saw he was addressing her.

“They’ve only hit frontier planets so far. Regan, Osis, a few others. As I told you before, and as you can now see, your parents chose unwisely to side with them.”

“Unwisely?” someone asked, winning a glare from the gray man beside Saunders.

Molly let out a sigh. She turned to take them all in. “Admiral. Everyone. These are not Drenards. I know for a fact. I—”

“How could you know?” one of the younger officers asked. “And why should we believe her anyway,” he asked the others. “You do know we came here to find you, right? None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for you!”

Molly gaped at the young officer; his eyes flared with rage.

“Carlton, you’re dismissed.”

The young man turned to Saunders. “Sir, I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

“I said you’re dismissed, son. Go tend to the others.”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as he’d gone, Molly turned to the Admiral. “Is that true? You came here because—it’s my fault that you—?”

Saunders waved her off. “Of course not. I mean—that this is your fault. The fleet’s defeat was mine. And don’t flatter yourself too much. One of the fleets had to check in on Lok. We hadn’t heard from them for over two weeks. I volunteered Zebra so we could pull double-duty, just in case you’d come home. We were expecting Drenard hostilities when we jumped in, just nothing like…”

He fell silent, and Molly shook her head.

“If they aren’t Drenards, what are they?” one of the officers asked. “Don’t tell me the Tchung are back from wherever they—”

“They’re called the Bern,” she whispered. “They’re coming from another galaxy—”

“Hogwash!”

“Silence,” Saunders told the group. “Go on,” he said to Molly.

She cleared her throat and glanced at the cup of water the gray man clutched in his thin fingers. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” He handed her the cup. “Captain Robinson, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Molly said, taking a gulp. She handed the cup back to him. “They call themselves the Bern, and they come from another galaxy. There’s a rift here on Lok. It’s what my parents uncovered. I think. Anyway, I know they were working to prevent this. The Drenards—”

Molly glanced over at Robinson, whose brow seemed knitted with worry.

“And the Drenards?” Saunders asked.

“The uh… the Drenards…”

“More water?” Robinson asked, extending the cup to her.

“Uh…” Molly looked to Saunders. She glanced once more at all the faces turned her way. “Sir? Can I have a word with you in private?”

••••

Saunders leaned against Parsona’s workbench. He had his arms folded over and resting atop his belly while Molly fumbled around in one of the cabinets. She finally brought out a bundle wrapped in a towel.

“What’s going on?” Saunders asked her. “Anything you want to tell me, you can say in front of my staff.”

“That’s the thing,” Molly said. She stood up and placed the bundle on the workbench. “I don’t think I can. Hear me out, and I mean really hear me out, just let it sink in before you react. I think these people that attacked you—I think they’ve been trying to get here for a long time. There’s a rift on Lok they’re coming through, and another one somewhere in the Drenard arm. I’m pretty sure the Drenards have been guarding that rift, preventing anything from coming out of it.”

“A rift?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know what to call it, I’m not a scientist, but I do know what they look like. I saw the first ships come out of the one here on Lok. Walter and I were hiding in the woods nearby, making sure the escape pod was secure, when—”

Saunders pointed up. “You saw these ships come out of a rift?”