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  Halliday grabbed her roughly and pulled her back. “There are no survivors.”

  “I heard—”

  “You heard the fire and the ship settling.”

  Those voice called for help. It wasn’t her imagination or the ship settling. Such bullshit.

  “Besides,” Halliday continued, “the survivors left hours ago.”

  A chill descended on her, heavy and full of dread. There was just enough sunlight now to discern the area. Opened food packaging, empty water bottles and other bits of discarded trash littered the ground. People had been here but they moved on.

  Dread curled in her stomach. They were on an alien planet in the dark. They had no good reason to move before sunrise. Something made them move, and that something couldn’t be good.

  “You didn’t come back to rescue me,” she said.

  He smiled, greasy and thin. “No, Lucky. I didn’t need you alive.”

  He just needed her hand and code to open the pharmacy. Her eyes glanced down to the laser blade hanging from his belt. Finding her alive had been a happy accident. He didn’t need her alive then and he didn’t need her alive now.

  “You knew this wasn’t Earth.”

  “You don’t have to be a genius to notice,” he snapped. “Beside, those dinosaur looking things that came out of the forest gave it away. I think the scent of blood drew them in.”

  Lucie flinched, hiding her hands behind her back. “Then why go back for the meds?” He couldn’t sell them on a black market. What use did they serve him now? He could barter the medication for food and… other stuff from the other survivors: sex, shelter, or weapons. He’d just have to wait until someone got sick or desperate enough. That’s what Lucie would do.

  But if he knew this wasn’t Earth, then why open the door with someone else’s clearance if he didn’t have to be worried about leaving a trail? He must not have clearance anymore. No part of the prison had been off limits to a guard, not even the supplies kept under lock and key. “You’re on probation,” she blurted out before common sense told her to keep her damn mouth shut.

  The back of Halliday’s hand connected with her cheek, sending her to the ground. “Because of you, you dumb bitch, and your whining at the warden.”

  Lucie rubbed her stinging cheek, smearing blood from her palms on her face. She once complained to the warden about Halliday’s advances, the way he grabbed her ass and joked about putting a bag over her head. She was a convict, yes, but she didn’t deserve to be sexually assaulted by prison staff.

  The warden had listened with annoyance and finally cut Lucie’s story off, flatly telling her that if she didn’t want that sort of attention, she shouldn’t flirt with the guards.

  Flirt? Being on the receiving end of sexual assault was not flirting. Well fuck the warden and fuck Halliday. “Good, you dickhole.”

  Halliday grabbed her roughly by the upper arm and hauled her to her feet. “What did you call me?”

  “A dickhole,” she repeated, enunciating loudly and clearly. “It’s the hole at the end of your penis that piss comes out of. You’re like that, spewing piss out of your mouth.”

  His eyes narrowed and his lips curled back in a sneer. He clenched the electric prod and held it high, ready to swing, and Lucie instinctively tucked her head down. Her smart mouth was going to be the death of her.

  The blow never came. Instead, he giggled. “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky. I’d shove my dick in that smart mouth of yours right now and teach you a lesson, but I don’t trust you not to bite.”

  She snapped her teeth at him. He was right not to trust her. She’d sever him from his manhood in a moment if he stuck that rancid thing anywhere near her mouth.

  “Everyone went into the forest,” Halliday said, pulling her in that direction.

  “Why can’t we wait until morning? You said monsters came out of the forest. Why would we go in there in the dark?” She dug her heels into the dirt, but she was no match against his upper body strength.

  “Jesus, Lucky. They said you were smart. I don’t have to run faster than the monster. I just have to run faster than you.”

  Asche

  Asche resisted the protocol as long as possible. It was harder for him. His brothers defended the City in the Caldera and raided other encampments. Asche built and maintained the city. It had been many centuries since the last raid and even longer since the city was last attacked. Every day he was surrounded with decay. The city was a never-ending burden of tasks. How could he sit idly by as he listened to the city fall apart around him? He had never been able to resist the call of the protocols for long, but today was different.

  Someone was out there.

  Someone could need him.

  The renewing energy of the Forge flowed through his body. He could almost feel excitement. He had been without purpose for so long, and now that was over… Yes, this had to be excitement. Even with the heartstone locking his strong emotions away, his body vibrated with anticipation.

  Someone needed him and they would need food and water. The gardens of the city had long ago withered. Greenery flourished inside the caldera due to the rich volcanic soil but invasive plants long ago drove out the more care-intensive edibles. He didn’t believe anything that grew in the city was classified as food, at least nothing Sheenika would eat.

  He knew how to forage. A quick trip down the mountain and he would have enough foodstuffs for days, and if he happened to locate the Creator, surely no harm could be found in that. Besides, Ertale would need his skills. Asche knew how to talk and charm. Ertale didn’t talk. Period.

  If he hurried, he could meet Ertale at the foot of the mountain.

  The cargo wagons were still operational under a layer of dust. Early in the construction of the city, he used the vehicles often to haul up stone and remove debris. Sheenika gave the valos the craft and built a long track around the mountain. Piloting the vehicle was simple as it could never leave the track. It went up the mountain, it went down. Quickly. The wagons had no braking system. Sheenika had only been concerned with speed, not safety. Any damage taken in transit—or from a sudden stop—could be healed easily enough with a trip to the Forge.

  Asche kept the track clear of debris and vegetation. The descent was without incident and Ertale’s tracks were easy enough to follow. The male was a Sentinel, not a stealthy warrior like Sarsen. The quickest way to his target was a straight line and no tree or natural feature would stand in his way. Asche only had to follow the path of destruction.

  Dawn arrived. The mountain sat at the head of a valley. A thick forest bordered the west and a river flowed to the east. Ertale’s path went straight to the forest.

  Under the green canopy, it became obvious to Asche that something else besides himself and his brother was in the forest. The animals chattered in an agitated fashion. He should catch one. Sheenika enjoyed a roasted beast. Perhaps their new visitor would have similar tastes.

  He traveled on foot for nearly an hour, plucking fruit he remembered Sheenika favoring and adding it to a satchel. Eventually the path led away from the forest, across the valley and towards the river.

  Asche found Ertale crouched behind a shrub, barely hidden and looking exactly like a pile of rocks. His armor was up, the stoney plates covering him entirely, and it would have been a good disguise except for his fire which burned at the seams. Fortunately for the Sentinel, the objects of his study were oblivious.

  “Are these our visitors?” Asche crouched down next to his brother.

  Ertale gave a dismissive wave. The meaning was clear: quiet.

  “Are they speaking?” Asche rocked back on his heels, unfamiliar words flowing over him. The Creators spoke a different language than the valos when they arrived, but they gave them language when they gave them their heartstones. What the two little Creators were speaking, however, did not resemble Sheenika’s language in the slightest. “Do you know what they say?”

  Ertale motioned with his hand. Quiet.

  The two Creators
were smaller than he remembered. They could be immature; children. Asche had never seen the Creators’ children but they must have them. Sheenika and Lusheenn—the creator of the Radiant Valos— were siblings. Logically, they had been children at one point.

  One was significantly taller than the other. Asche felt this one had to be male, but he was unsure. They wore clothing, making it hard to tell. Sheenika and Lusheenn also wore clothing, their costumes growing more elaborate as the years passed. Sheenika had gowns that flickered and trailed light in her wake. These little Creators were far more simply dressed. Still, he could not be certain if they were male or female.

  The smaller Creator—his gut said female— crouched at the river’s edge. She sipped water from her cupped hand. Asche nearly leapt to his feet. She should be drinking from his cupped hands. He could fashion her a cup from the delicate wood, fragile clay or even carved from crystal. He could fetch the clearest, coldest water from the snowpack on the mountains. She should not be crouched in the mud, drinking from her own hands. Sheenika would flay him alive for allowing such an insult.

  Goldwings flitted above the water. The female held out a hand as they darted about. A tired smile tugged at her lips.

  The larger one stood over her. Despite the language barrier, his words sounded cruel.

  Asche could not be certain they were Creators at all. They were the wrong size. The proportion of their limbs were too short. The cruel words were correct. The willingness to be humbled by nature was not correct. They had to be visitors from someplace else and not creators returned to Sonhadra.

  The large one shoved the female and she fell into the mud. A foot on her back held her down. Her hands slapped at the water, struggling to free herself.

  The little creators brought violence with them. That was the same as before.

  “Help her,” Asche said to Ertale.

  The guardian’s eyes blazed gold, but he did not move.

  “He’s hurting her.” They could not hurt a creator but they could not allow a creator to be hurt. Asche understood Ertale’s dilemma. His inaction said much. He could not intervene without risking injury to one of the creators.

  If Ertale’s protocols tied his hands, Asche would have to be creative and fast.

  He cupped a hand and superheated the air, shaping it into a dart. He aimed it first at the male, but his hands wavered and he found himself unable to release the dart. The female creator’s struggle grew weaker, despite the male letting her up for a breath of air. He snarled and shoved her back into the water.

  Asche targeted a goldwing, sending the dart to the tiny target. For a moment he regretted injuring such a peaceful creature. Goldwings were harmless, eating only insects and stealing shiny object for their nests. It squealed far louder than anything that small had a right to make.

  An ak’rena bellowed in response. The ground thundered as it raced to injured prey. Asche’s plan was a touch more effective than expected.

  Ertale shoved Asche to the side, anger and fire blazing under his plate armor, and dashed towards the little creators.

  Chapter Four

  Lucinda

  She needed water but wasn’t about to ask Halliday. Her red and raw eyes stung in the sunlight and her lips cracked. All she could focus on was her parched throat and how it hurt when she swallowed.

  Hours passed. Maybe. Lucie had a hard time keeping track of time with the pounding in her head and her ankle smarting with every step.

  The sun rose and warmed the air, but the shadows under the trees remained chilly. Lucie’s thin scrubs, ripped and torn, provided no protection against the environment. She wasn’t worried about the cold. She felt too warm, actually, like she was running a low grade fever. Her body was dehydrated and every step made her thirstier and warmer. She should be marveling at the wonders of an alien world, but all she could think about was thirst.

  So far her forced march exploration of the alien planet revealed that trees were trees and grass was grass. The animals, though, those were different. They scurried away and darted under cover, but Lucie could sense animal eyes on her and something else. Something big. Dangerous. Hungry.

  Halliday kept them moving towards the mountain and did not venture far into the forest. Still, she felt the hungry eyes on her.

  Finally, Halliday left the tree line and headed towards the river. Crouching at the edge of the riverbank, he fished out two water bottles. He drained the contents of one in a big display.

  Lucie stared, eyes riveted on his swallowing throat and licking her parched lips.

  “See if the water is good, Lucky,” he said, wiping the back of his hand across his wet mouth.

  Lucie fell to her knee in thanks, scooping up water before she could worry about alien bacteria. Dysentery would suck, but she’d take her chances. The water evaporated quickly off her feverish hands. She wanted to dunk her entire self in the water and let the coolness take the edge off her heated skin.

  Soot and grime steamed off her hands when she plunged them into the cool, clear water. She carefully unwrapped the bandages before rubbing her hands together, trying to clean as best as she could without soap. Being this close to relief from her thirst was torture but she had to be patient. Gulping down water with unknown bacteria would be bad enough. She didn’t need to ingest a lifetime’s worth of dirt and carcinogens.

  “Just drink already, Lucky. Stop being such a stuck-up bitch.” Halliday gave her an impatient shove with his boot, not forceful enough to knock her flat in the water but enough to piss her off. She was the test subject and he wouldn’t drink until she proved the water safe.

  “Well, this feels like water.”

  “What else would it be?”

  “Acid.”

  “Drink.” Another prod, this one more forceful.

  Lucie swallowed her retort that she wouldn’t know for hours if the water was safe. Halliday didn’t care. He just wanted to know if the water would hurt them immediately. If the water gave them both dysentery, she wanted him to suffer with her.

  Bending down, she scooped up a handful of the water to her lips. The water was cool and just a bit sweet, surprisingly. Not bitter or salty or fishy. “It’s fine,” she said.

  Halliday refilled the bottles and drank, over exaggerating every swallow.

  Lucie ignored him, content to sip one handful of water at a time. Mud soaked through her pants but she couldn’t possibly get any filthier. Once she took the edge off her thirst, she’d rinse away the worst of the soot and blood. Especially the blood.

  A small, cautious part of her worried that predators in the river could be drawn to her blood, but the same cautious nature also knew that predators in the forest would be drawn to her if she didn’t rinse away the blood. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

  Large insects darted along the water. They hovered briefly, golden wings flapping, as if inspecting her.

  Lucie slowly extended a hand, bright scarlet beads of blood on her palm. Now able to get a good look at the creatures, she could see there were more bird-like than insects, but that was generous. They were lizards with wings and plumage with large black eyes and teeth that went on forever. Long, curved claws extended from their feet, good for clutching tree branches or plucking fish out of rivers. They were small, though, no bigger than her fist, and beautiful, their golden wings catching the sunlight. What was the purpose of those wings? They were hardly inconspicuous; attention grabbing even. Maybe to dazzle their watery prey? Fishing lures on Earth were bright and shiny for the same reason, not that she spent much time fishing.

  “Don’t foul your water supply,” Halliday said. “Even animals know not to do that.”

  She ignored his taunts but drew her hand back, plunging it back in for another drink. “I thought you said you were going to let me go.”

  “You think that just because we’re on another world you’re somehow absolved of your crimes? Did those sixteen people come back to life when we crashed?”

  Lucie flinched at hi
s words. Crashed spaceship and alien planet aside, nothing had changed. She was still a prisoner and those people weighed on her soul. “So you lied to me when you said you’d let me go?”

  Halliday crouched down next to her, arms relaxed over his knees. His posture made her nervous. “No, Lucky. I was going to let you go. I expected you to have about an hour’s freedom before the police picked you up again. A girl like you doesn’t have any survival instincts. Look at you, sitting in the mud, drinking dirty water. It’s pathetic. You barely survived prison and you won’t survive this wilderness.”

  “Can I at least have a water bottle?” She realized her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. Never ask Halliday for a favor, for anything, as it showed weakness and he preyed on the weak.

  “I don’t think so.” Quicker than she could avoid, he grabbed the back of her head, pulling harshly on her hair. “You seemed just fine drinking out of the river like an animal. Go ahead, Lucky, have another drink.”

  He pushed her forward, driving her face into the water. She slapped at the surface, trying to find something—anything—to push back, to save herself.

  Roughly he yanked her back. She gasped, river water trickling down her nose and the back of her throat. “Still thirsty? Drink up.” He pushed her back again, adding all his weight to pin her down.

  Lucie clawed at the water, struggling to hold her breath and failing. He was going to kill her. He always promised he would but there had been enough semblance of law and order on the Concord to keep him from straight up murdering her. Now, there were no consequences, no law and order. Only survival.

  “Stupid beasts. Get off!” Halliday released her to swat at the tiny bird-creatures as they battered themselves at him, claws tangling in his hair and raking against his face. One squealed, far louder than a tiny creature had a right to.

  Something much larger answered from the forest.

  Lucie had exactly three heartbeats to decide to flee or curl up in a ball before a massive beast crashed through the trees. It was greyish-white and had far too many—six!—legs, thick hide and muscles rippled with each land-devouring stride, and snatches of scarlet coloration peeked out, and it was pissed. Lucie was barely able to form a coherent thought and that thought was, “It’s a dinosaur. A dinosaur. A—”