My heart races. My forehead erupts with sweat. My skin breaks out into goosebumps, and I huddle on the floor in a ball.
Deep breath. In and out and repeat. Then, when you can, count backward from a hundred to one.
One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight. Ninety-seven. The people that hurt me are dead. Ninety-six. Ninety-five. I saw Danek kill them. They can’t touch me here. I am safe at the Rebellion.
By the time my heart slows its hammering and I feel okay enough to push on, my count is at twelve. I pick myself off the floor and unlock the door.
I’m not a prisoner in my apartment. I leave regularly. I go to the doctors for my follow-up visits. I go running with Alice. But today’s the first day I’ve left of my own volition.
I step into the empty corridor and pull the door closed. If I turn left, I will soon come to a door that will open onto a square park. Squat buildings flank all four sides of the grassy clearing, each three stories high. Housing, hospitals, stores, restaurants, everything is made from modular prefab material, designed to be pulled down quickly if the Empire comes calling and we need to evacuate. The park is small but nice, covered in a bright orange grass that is soft to the touch and fills the air with a gentle fragrance. If I continue past the door, the corridor will end in a stairwell. If I climb two flights of stairs, I’ll end up at the hospital. Again.
I’ve always gone left. I’ve never once turned right. Never once explored the place that is now my home.
It’s been sixty days, Naomi.
I turn right, taking the road less traveled. I follow the corridor past numerous sets of closed doors. And then I slow down, because on the other side of yet another closed door, I hear a voice I recognize.
Danek.
I haven’t seen him in weeks, not since I was discharged. Is he even real, or is he a figment of my imagination, a fantasy man I’ve hallucinated to avoid the darkness of my reality?
A sudden need to see my rescuer fills me.
I hesitate in front of the door. I contemplate knocking, and then I stop myself. Do people even knock here? I’m about to turn away when, all by itself, the door slides open.
A silent invitation.
I walk in.
2
Danek
I glare at the three people that have invaded my living space. “Raiht’vi, Tarish, and Dariux. My three favorite people.” My voice is saturated in sarcasm. “Why are you here?”
Dariux takes a seat at the window ledge. Raiht’vi remains standing in the center of the room. Tarish hesitates for a split-second, and then settles on the nearest couch. “I need your help.”
I thought I had made it clear that I wasn’t one of Tarish’s pet soldiers. The Commander of the Rebellion has left me alone since I rescued the human women, and I thought the message had sunk in. But here he is anyway.
Looks like it’s time for a refresher. “I’m done running missions for you.” I transfer my attention to Raiht’vi. “Is that why you’ve brought your scientist with you? To persuade me with the aid of another lethal drug?”
Tarish clenches his hands into fists but doesn’t take the bait. “I don’t have a lot of options, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
It’s like he hasn’t even heard me. Let’s try this again. “We’ve been over this before. You want to end the Testing. You want to bring down Lenox. You want justice for the Draekons. Those are all admirable goals, but your cause isn’t mine. All I care about is First.”
My conscience pangs. I am focused on First—we all are. That part is true. But the rest of it is a lie.
Every Draekon who has been torn from his home after failing the Testing—it’s my fault. If only I hadn’t talked the Draekons into rebellion... If only they’d told me their plans... If only I’d been with them when they fought…
It’s too late for regret. I’ll carry my guilt to my grave.
“Nobody has heard from First for more than a month,” Tarish responds. “Blood Heart seems to have gone dormant. We’ve been able to rescue eight sets of Draekons without interference.” He leans forward. “First now knows what we know—that every Zorahn in the Empire carries a version of the Draekon gene in them. He can’t reverse it. He can’t repopulate the Empire with ‘pure’ Draekons. Maybe he’s given up.”
If only. I fix Tarish with a stare. “Commander, there’s one thing you need to know about the Crimson Force. We don’t give up. Ever. We weren’t made that way.”
Dariux clears his throat from his spot on the window ledge. “Be that as it may,” he says. “Right now, there’s a more urgent matter at hand. It’s the Time of the Testing. In the past, one of two things happened to the Draekons that tested positive. If they were lucky, they were exiled to the prison planet. If they were not, they ended up in one of Brunox’s secret laboratories.”
“But this year, the Empire cannot send Draekons to the prison planet,” Tarish finishes. “Not after they discovered the existence of the city of Ashara. And, as long as we hunt for Brunox’s laboratories, they won’t send the Draekons to be tortured either. They will imprison them.” His expression hardens. “And we will break them out.”
“Where is the prison?”
Dariux glances at his tablet. “With Theldre’s help, we’ve narrowed it down to four possible locations. Vao 33 is a remote outpost with only five thousand residents. Erilia is domed, and the domes are at capacity. Sigion’s surface is so hot that the ten thousand residents dwell underground. There’s plenty of space where you can hide people, but they have to import hydrogen to synthesize water.” He looks up. “And then there’s Noturn.”
The name sounds
