Sail

A cold chill flushed the air from my lungs, and I fought to drag in another breath. The panicked conversations around me spun the room, making me feel sick. Everyone knew Ellison and loved her almost as much as I did with her warm bedside manner and genius medical knowledge. I knew this only because I used to tuck myself away in a cabinet inside her office where no one could see me.

Now, she was gone.

“We traced the cruiser to deep space and hacked into her powered-off telecom,” Pop continued.

“And?” I whispered.

“The Ring Guild thinks she was speaking in some kind of code, similar to when rebels deserted the war and floated off into space.”

“But…we’re not at war. Not anymore.”

He nodded and blinked hard, like he had trouble processing the Black War, the biggest war, even though he hadn’t been born when it ended. “Ad astra per aspera.” To the stars through difficulties, the phrase to honor the memory of the millions of lives lost in the war whenever anyone spoke of it, tumbled from his mouth automatically.

“Pop, what did Ellison say?”

Several excruciating seconds later, he looked up, attempting to trap his bottom lip with his teeth to keep it from trembling. “Sail.”

A shiver iced up my back, constricting my insides, until I twisted my fingers around the frayed edges of his coat lapels to keep myself upright. In that moment, I hated that I could read him so well, but I knew exactly what he was thinking.

Not sail. Saelis. Had Ellison’s telecom shut off before she’d spit out the name of the aliens from deep space? No one had ever seen them and survived. They were the ones who’d caused the Black War, who’d destroyed Earth. The thought of my sister even being on the same ship with Saelis shredded my insides. Ellison excelled at sewing people up and mending broken bones, not flying out to deep space to face off with the Saelis. She didn’t stand a chance against something so vile. That truth ripped fiery pain through my heart. This couldn’t be happening.

“Are the Ringers being intentionally ludicrous?” Hysteria pitched my voice louder and carried it across the noise in the Waiting Room. “She’s not sailing or whatever shit they want you to believe so you don’t panic. We have to do—”

“No, Abs.” His shoulders drooped with a helpless sigh. “I’m leaving here to explain to the Ring Guild that she would never willingly go to deep space, that something forced her to go. Most of the Nebulous crew has been summoned by the Guild for questioning, but the Guild is reluctant to go after her since another of their rings broke down. They don’t think she wants to be found.” He sandwiched my face between his strong hands and bent to look me in the eyes with his matching gray ones. “But I’ll reason with them. We’ll get Ellison back.”

The desperation in his voice welled tears that dashed down my cheeks in burning hot streaks. “Let me help you.”

“No.” Pop brushed my face with his rough thumbs, worn from years of hard work holding up the Nebulous in the sky. “Continue with your studies. You’ll be safe here. I couldn’t bear it if something happened—” He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. “Happened to you, too.”

I folded him into a hug and nodded into his coat. No way would I say something to upset him further, but my mind already churned. I couldn’t sit back, pretend to study, and forget the Saelis had Ellison in their grasp. How could I?

After the war, the Saelis had vanished from the universe. They’d made their point by destroying Earth, and no one had seen or heard anything about them for close to two hundred years. If she was speaking of them into her telecom, then I had no idea what I could do to save her that wouldn’t end horribly for both of us.

As if sensing my thoughts, Pop gripped my shoulders and pushed me away to look in my eyes. “Promise me, Abs.” His voice held a threatening edge that I’d only heard once or twice before.

“I promise.” I never lied to Pop, and I hoped I never had to again.

He rooted through a pocket, then cupped my hand in his and trickled a handful of nails into it. “I’ve been saving these up for you. I’m sorry I don’t have more.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I’ll send more to you when I get a chance.” He fanned his fingers through my chains with a small, sad smile. “I need to go.”

A sob welled in my throat. I opened my mouth, and a choked whisper fell out. “No.”

“I’ll get Ellison back.” A grimace crossed over his face, but he blinked it away. My chains slid across his fingers as he took a step back, and they plinked against my shoulders when he let them go. “I love you, Abs.” Then he turned and the crowd swallowed him whole.

Drooping my head to let the chains curtain around my face, I sucked in shallow breaths over the pain that kicked in my heart. This wasn’t how I imagined Christmas break. I was supposed to listen to Pop and his funny stories in the engine room, and answer Ellison’s probing questions about whether I’d been eating and had enough iron until I fell asleep in my own bed on the Nebulous. Not this. The complete opposite of this.

“Ellison.” The word pricked tears from my eyes, but I squeezed them shut so more couldn’t escape. My chest tightened with each quick breath I took. I raised my head so I could breathe easier, but it didn’t help. People crushed up against me. Their panicked buzz had settled to a somber stillness, but their shock hung heavy until it sucked the air from the room. If any of them had ever been sick, they had to know Ellison. She always wore a smile, always greeted patients by name.

I had to get out of here.

I stumbled through the crowd in my haste to the elevator. The doors were about to close, but I slid through at the last second. The few people inside seemed too stunned to bother to jerk their gazes somewhere else like they usually did.

As soon as the elevator doors sighed open, I marched out into the Smixton marketplace. A sharp wind needled snow against my already damp face and bare arms. It hadn’t been snowing this morning when I’d gone to the Waiting Room, so I hadn’t brought a coat. Maybe the freezing cold would help clear my head.

Ozone laced through the smell of fried meats and rich cakes of nearby street vendors. Handmade quilts stretched like wings overhead and snapped with each gust of air. Large video screens attached to low buildings flashed the same commercial in soft, soothing tones, mismatching the bustle of activity on the streets below.

Ellison loved the marketplace. She’d run her fingers through all the silk fabrics, pick through the jewelry until she found a piece that made her gray eyes light up, or stop and visit with the vendors about whatever. She seemed at peace in the extreme sensory overload. I always thought it was the ninth circle of Feozva’s hell and avoided it whenever possible. Because Ellison loved it so much, though, I pretended to enjoy the shouting and the flying elbows so she could get her fill.

She should be here with me now. What could the Saelis want with her? What was she doing in deep space in the first place?

I sagged against a glowing white display of wrist cuffs while sobs shook through me. Images of what she might be doing, what the Saelis could be doing to her flashed behind my eyes. What if Pop and the Ringers couldn’t get her back?

No. I shook my head so hard my chains whipped my face. No more thinking in maybes and what ifs. I would drive myself crazy if I went on like that. Right now, the only thing I could control was me and what I could do to get her back. I swiped at my tears and stood up straight. Two wobbly steps forward built enough momentum to keep going. I could do this. I could think clearly. I…

A small plastic box of iron washers balanced on the edge of a vendor’s table. I only had six pieces left from that bench I’d melted down on top of my dresser in my dorm room, not enough to last me through the weekend, especially since it seemed I was going through them like candy lately. Pop’s handful of nails might push me through Sunday night, but I doubted it.

If I was going to help find Ellison, I needed these. They would get rid of unnecessary distractions so I could focus, and if I was going to find her, I didn’t have time to melt iron scraps down into bite-sized pieces in the chemistry lab like I usually did. I snatched the box up before anyone else could and dug in my pants pocket for my currency card. Which was on top of my dresser, too, resting against my framed periodic table so I would remember to take it with me. Rusted balls.

I glanced at the price tag, and the box grew slippery in my sweaty hands. Two hundred ninety-nine credits for a box of iron washers. Since the Ringers used the precious metal to power their space-bending rings that bordered this galaxy, iron was rare. Really rare. And pricey.

But I had to have these washers, currency card or no. Ellison needed me, and I was wasting time when I should be trying to figure out how to get her back.

The vendor faced away while arguing with a guy in a neighboring booth. He gestured wildly at a rack of shirts. Their long sleeves billowed out in the wind and brushed items from the box of washers’ table to the ground. The other guy held a hand in front of the vendor’s face and rolled his eyes skyward. A flush burned red across the back of the vendor’s neck.

I palmed the box against my hip, my heart racing. The vendor might not even notice it was gone. I inched the box up my leg to my pants pocket, my gaze never straying from the two vendors. Smixton College had a zero tolerance policy for crime. If caught, I’d be kicked out and possibly sent to the prison planet to do time.

My skin heated with shame, as it always did every time I broke the law. Which was often since I needed iron. It wasn’t so much the precious metal that I’d become dependent on, but the safety and protection it offered. It chased away all my deep-rooted fears, and in the most literal way, I couldn’t live without it. Which is why I never went anywhere without a piece tucked away in my mouth and a stash in my pockets.

Still, I shouldn’t have to do this. Normal people didn’t steal washers just to survive. No one else had to run from their problems by hiding behind a metal wall. Yet despite the risk, I couldn’t stop stealing. The safety iron provided me was too great.

A cold sweat leaked down my sides, making me shiver in the biting wind. Up until now, Smixton College and my scholarship had provided nearly everything Pop and Ellison couldn’t. I had to do this. As soon as I unclenched my fingers to let the box fall into my pocket, a nearby baby gave a delighted babble.

I froze. The box landed in my pocket, but I barely registered its welcome weight. It was the same baby with the bright blue eyes I’d seen in the Waiting Room, now reaching for me with chubby fingers but locked in a man’s arms. The baby’s mom stood next to him carrying the toddler. She stared at the pocket the box of iron had just slipped into while falling snow stuck to her lashes.

The woman flicked her gaze up to meet mine, her mouth twisted in a sneer, and lifted her arm to point. “Thief!”

The vendor whirled around. His eyes widened, then he fixed me with an accusing glare. “What is this? A thief?”

My mouth popped open, not to argue but to come clean. He was talking about me. That word had never been spoken to my face, and it hurt.

“Please…” I started, but whatever I was going to say didn’t matter because the box rested in my pocket. I was a thief.

“I don’t tolerate theft,” he roared and bounded around the table to grab me by the elbow. His fingers dug into my arm, and he gave me a rough, bone-jarring shake. “Empty your pockets, girl.”

Curious onlookers stopped to stare. I swallowed hard and ticked my gaze between the woman who now wore a satisfied grin and her wailing baby. Inside the pocket with the washers, Pop’s nails stabbed into my fist.

The guy in the neighboring booth nudged the shirt rack a little further into the vendor’s territory with his foot and a smug smile. The long sleeves waved over the table, knocking a small clock over and rolling a little bottle filled with amber liquid to the edge. It rocked back and forth, testing gravity and fate.

I would never survive a planet full of criminals, let alone the wicked spirits that likely haunted such a place. Especially without iron. And especially because I knew my sister hadn’t sailed.

The bottle of amber liquid smashed to the ground, snapping me out of my panic-fueled fog. Its fate was sealed.

Mine wasn’t. I jerked my arm away from the vendor and ran.