United: An Alienated Novel (12 page)

He supposed it didn’t matter. Either way, he couldn’t show his face.

He turned and walked back to the shuttle, which was docked behind a thrift store. Nearby, Cara rummaged in a clothing donation bin for shoes and a more comfortable outfit to wear. Only her skirt-clad backside was visible, wriggling back and forth with each of her movements. Aelyx grinned and leaned against the hull to enjoy the view. In times of hardship, one had to appreciate the basic pleasures in life, to
stop and smell the roses
, as humans said. So he admired Cara’s roses until her brother approached, and then he cleared his throat and pretended to inspect the shuttle wing.

Troy lifted two paper bags, each smelling of fried potatoes. “Five heart attacks in the making. I’m not a hundred percent sure the cashier didn’t recognize me, so we should probably go.”

“I’m waiting for Elle to return from the grocery.” Aelyx peered around the building and spotted her on the sidewalk, a plastic bag in hand. She’d concealed her face with a hat from the donation bin, but he recognized her brisk stride. “There she is.”

As Troy always did when Elle was near, he stiffened and made an obvious effort not to check behind him. “Hey,” he whispered, moving closer. “Can I ask you something about your sister?”

Aelyx nodded. Considering all the things he’d done with Troy’s sister, he could hardly refuse.

“Has she … you know … moved on from losing Eron?” Troy asked. “Is she seeing anyone back home?”

Reflexively, Aelyx glanced at Syrine in the backseat. He advanced a few paces out of earshot and motioned for Troy to join him. Syrine had loved Eron too, and as fragile as she was, she didn’t need the reminder of another loss. “I don’t know,” he said. Elle didn’t share those details with him. “But the last time I engaged in Silent Speech with her, she seemed to have recovered from her grief, so she—”

Troy shushed him and waved at Elle as she reached the shuttle. She lowered a brow in confusion and waved back, then climbed into the backseat. “So,” Troy whispered, “she might be ready to move on?”

Aelyx was growing annoyed with this topic. “Assuming the Aribol don’t annihilate both our races, and assuming you join the colony
and
convince her to leave the capital, you might stand a remote chance with her.”

Troy grinned and delivered a slap on the back. “Thanks, man. Good talk.”

That might’ve been the nicest thing Troy had ever said to him.

Cara padded over, holding up a pair of simple black flats and a bundle of denim. “I won’t think too hard about who wore these before me or how often they bathed.” She sniffed the air a few times. “Do I smell curly fries?”

“And hamburgers.” Aelyx opened the passenger door for her. “Dinner awaits, with a side of cardiovascular disease.”

“Mmm. My favorite kind.”

Aelyx flew them one state over, and they ate dinner floating in the airspace above a national forest. He’d never developed a taste for American food, finding it overseasoned, but tonight he’d reached the advanced stage of hunger that made anything a delicacy. He devoured his meal and sat back in the pilot’s seat, resting a hand on his stomach.

After Cara finished eating, she changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then reached a hand toward her brother in the back. “Let me use your cell.”

“They can track us if it’s turned on.”

“One minute,” she said. “Then I’ll shut it off and we’ll go someplace else. The shuttle’s crazy fast. We’ll be in the next time zone before they notice our signal.”

Troy passed her the smartphone, and moments later, she cupped it between her palms, her face illuminated by the screen’s pale glow. Aelyx noticed a smudge of dirt streaking the length of her nose, and he reached out a thumb to clean it. He changed his mind at the last second and left the smudge intact. It made her seem younger, more like a girl of seventeen and less like a Chief Human Consultant bearing the weight of two worlds on her shoulders.

“Wow,” she breathed, gazing in wonder at the phone. “We’re trending. We even have our own hashtag.”

Having no idea what a hashtag was, Aelyx leaned over for a glimpse of the screen. She rotated the phone and showed him a picture of the two of them together, captioned by the words
Aelyx is bae! He and Cara are my IRL OTP! Don’t let the government tear them apart! Let’s do everything we can to #SaveCalyx

He understood about half of that.

“It’s everywhere.” She powered off the phone, continuing to gaze at it. “The fandom’s going nuts. This could really work in our favor.”

“What’s a Calyx?” he asked.

“Cara plus Aelyx. It’s our ship name.”

“Ship? Do you mean a sailing vessel or a method of mailing packages?”

She laughed and patted his knee. “I’ll explain later. Right now you should probably show me how to fly this thing.”

As his entire plan hinged on her ability to pilot the craft, he agreed. Fortunately the controls made flying effortless; all she had to do was learn them. So they switched seats, and he spent the next few hours teaching her how to steer and accelerate, and most important, the subtle nuance of approaching an object without striking it.

She absorbed the information quickly, which didn’t surprise him. Cara was one of a kind among humans … or perhaps two of a kind now that she’d been cloned. Aelyx tried to push away the thought. It made him uneasy to know another version of her existed, even more so to think that Jaxen had warped the very best part of the girl. Passion was of little worth without love to soften its edges.

Syrine drew him back to present company with a complaint. “I wish you hadn’t told me what you’re about to do. It’s a crime against The Way. I’ll be punished when I get home if I don’t report you first.”

He turned to face her while Cara continued practicing. The others might not understand Syrine’s concern because they didn’t know what had happened last winter. He’d disobeyed their leaders, and she’d made the mistake of trying to defend him. As punishment, she’d had to administer his Reckoning—twenty lashes with the
iphet
.

“No one will punish you,” he told her. “Alona said we have two more days. Technically, we aren’t disobeying her orders.”

“The Way doesn’t care about technicalities, and you know it.” Syrine folded her arms and addressed Cara. “If you’re so confident, then contact Alona and tell her everything.”

Cara laughed without humor. “Sometimes it’s better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.”

“That proves my point.”

“Give it a rest, okay?” Cara called over her shoulder. “Right now it feels like the whole world is against me—because it kind of is—and the last thing I need is my friends jumping on my case, too.”

Aelyx found that a bit harsh. “She’s not against you. She’s only worried, and for good reason. You weren’t raised on L’eihr. You don’t understand what it’s like to be taught obedience to The Way from birth.”

“Please,” Cara scoffed. “I was raised Catholic. I win.”

Troy snickered and reached forward to bump fists with his sister.

“Maybe we should stop bickering and focus on the plan,” Elle suggested. “There’s very little margin for error, and if you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to die in the cold void of space.”

Syrine heaved a sigh and stayed quiet after that.

The rest of them went over the plan, and then over it a dozen more times. They covered every detail, leaving nothing to doubt, and when the first hints of sunlight began to blush in the eastern horizon, Cara piloted them beyond the atmosphere to the L’eihr transport.

She landed inside the docking bay, and they climbed out of the shuttle, taking a moment to stretch their stiff limbs and backs before making their way inside a small holding area, beyond which stretched the corridor to the main ship. Colonel Rutter was waiting there with a regretful grin on his face.

“You’re doing the right thing,” he told them.

Nobody in the group spoke, mostly because they hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours. But to the casual observer, it would probably seem they were overcome by the sadness of parting ways. Cara’s eyes were especially bloodshot and swollen, her skin blackened by her fight with the clone.

Rutter jerked his chin at Cara and her brother. “I’d like to pretend I never saw you here, but that’ll be hard if we share a ride back to the States.”

“I’m taking Aelyx’s shuttle,” Cara said, her voice cracking. Emotion choked off the rest of her words, and she hid her face in her hands.

She was good.

Rutter fixed his gaze on his boots and began scratching his neck as though he’d developed an allergy to female tears. “Call your parents, Sweeney,” he mumbled. “They’re frantic.” Then he wasted no time in returning to the docking bay.

As soon as Aelyx heard the rumble of Rutter’s shuttle departing, he released a breath. They’d cleared their first hurdle. Now they needed as many L’eihr crew members as possible to witness his goodbye with Cara. Pictures were a must, too. Later Cara could upload them to her blog as proof that he’d returned home.

Someone hissed his name, and he turned to find Larish approaching from the main corridor to the ship. Larish already knew the plan. They’d spoken hours earlier via com-sphere.

“You’re early,” Aelyx said. “Is the ambassador in his room?”

Larish nodded. “Under heavy guard. Whatever Jaxen did to his mind, it hasn’t worn off. But that’s not why I’m here. There’s something you should know.”

“Hey,
Calyx
.” Troy held up his phone. “I’m on half battery, so let’s get this photo shoot started.”

“One moment,” Aelyx told Larish. He strode away and extended a hand to Cara. “Ready?”

Her fingers were cold when she laced them in his. “Not really.”

He cradled her face between his palms, careful not to hurt her bruises, and reached out to her with his eyes.
Have faith
.
The universe hasn’t been able to keep us apart yet. No matter what, I’ll always find my way back to you.

Instead of responding with words, Cara projected her love for him, an emotion so pure it made both their eyes water.

“That’s perfect,” Troy muttered, clicking pictures with his phone. “Extra mushy and gag-inducing.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Elle said, and ended Troy’s commentary.

The flight crew entered from the hangar and informed Cara it was time for her to leave, so Aelyx drew her body closer as she stood on tiptoe and twined both arms around his neck. He nuzzled the slope of her shoulder and closed his eyes to focus on the soft, warm curves pressed against him. Her breath hitched, and he had a feeling she wasn’t faking this time. Before he lost his nerve, he released her and faced away, then strode quickly into the main ship.

He’d done it. He’d left her behind—in front of witnesses.

As he strode toward his quarters, Larish scrambled up from behind and tugged on his tunic. “I have to talk to you.”

“What is it?”

Before Larish could answer, Syrine jogged in front of them and spun around, forcing them to stop. “Wait.” She pressed a palm to Aelyx’s chest. “I changed my mind. I want to stay with you.”

Aelyx blinked. “Are you sure?”

She nodded while anxiously tugging on her pendant. “What’s there to go home to? My friends are here, and
Cah
-ra was right. You need my help.”

Aelyx didn’t argue—he was glad she’d changed her mind—and yet something wriggled in the pit of his stomach, a warning that Syrine needed his help more than he needed hers. “All right. You know what to do.” He glanced at Larish. “What did you want to tell me?”

Twin lines appeared between Larish’s eyes. “It can wait.”

Elle caught up and asked Larish, “Did you bring my med-bag?”

“Oh.” Syrine’s brows jumped. “And my box?”

“Yes, it’s all in my quarters,” Larish said. “But we can’t take everything. We should meet in my room and separate the bare necessities.”

Aelyx had everything he needed—his com-sphere and the clothes on his back—so he continued to his quarters and waited for Cara’s call. Alone in his room, he unclenched his jaw and took a seat on the bottom bunk. The reality of what they were about to do weighed on his shoulders until his muscles were in knots. He rotated his head in a stretch and mentally repeated his own advice:
have faith
.

When his sphere buzzed, he shot upright so quickly he hit his head on the upper bunk. Rubbing his skull, he spoke his passkey and waited for Cara’s image to appear.

She flickered to life in miniature form, her head and shoulders visible from inside the shuttle. “Okay, it’s done. I’m back in US airspace.”

“Now enable the cloaking mode, like I showed you.” To be safe, he talked her through the procedure. “If it’s done right, you should see the icon displayed on the control panel.”

“I see it.”

“Good. You can come back now. The transport won’t detect you.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll buzz you when I get there.”

They disconnected, and Aelyx made his way to Larish’s quarters.

“It’s time,” he told the group. Since none of them knew precisely when the transport would depart, they had to move quickly. He peered at the scattering of items on the floor, most of which were David’s belongings—sports magazines, loose change, photographs, and assorted electronic devices. He didn’t see the deck of trick cards, so he assumed Syrine had packed those in the bag slung over her shoulder. “Ready?” he asked her, using his tone to imply a deeper meaning: Was she sure about this?

“Almost.” She scooped up David’s dog tags, then looped the chain around her neck and stuffed the necklace under her shirt. “Now I’m ready.”

Elle hugged her med-kit. “This is all I need.”

Larish strapped a bag over his chest and tossed a small duffel toward Aelyx. It landed at his feet with a light crunch. “I liberated a week’s worth of nutrient packets from the kitchen.”

Aelyx slid open the door and darted a glance up and down the hallway. After finding it vacant, he and the others rushed to the stairwell, where they jogged up five flights of steps and continued to the washroom at the far end of the ship—the one with an oversize waste disposal hatch.

They were all panting for breath when they reached the washroom. Aelyx felt perspiration forming across his brow, and he snatched a microfiber cloth from the hand cleansing station. “Wipe off any traces of moisture,” he told the others. “Or it’ll freeze on your skin once we’re beyond the hatch.”