Fortuna, p.33
Fortuna, page 33
part #1 of Nova Vita Protocol Series
“I’m doing what I have to do,” I say again, more firmly this time. “I’m taking care of the family, like Momma always did. So don’t you dare judge me.”
“This isn’t just some job!” Corvus smashes a fist into the nearby wall, and the bang of metal makes me jump. “You’re going to get millions of people killed.”
For a moment I’m frozen in shock, half-worried that the noise will bring someone running, half-hoping that it will so I won’t have to be alone with him anymore. I take a deep breath and lower my voice.
“The war’s already started. Those people are going to die, with or without our involvement.” Just like on Titan. Backing out of the deal with Ives didn’t save anybody, it only screwed me. “You think we’re the only ones on Leonis’s payroll? There’s always gonna be someone with less scruples. At least this way, we get to choose the winning side.”
“Winning side?” Corvus repeats incredulously. “You saw the weapon Leonis used on Titan. It’s a world-ender. There will be no winning side to this war. It won’t be over until everyone’s dead.” He shakes his head. “We don’t have to be like her, you know. Just because Momma ran this ship one way doesn’t mean you have to be the same. You can be better than her. Better than this.”
For a moment it grates on me that my thought process is so transparent to him—but that’s followed by fresh annoyance over his words. All this, from Momma’s precious little golden boy? Even after she abandoned him on Titan, he still followed every order she gave, without a moment’s hesitation. I’ll never forget him standing outside of Altair’s office and telling me to leave. He never would have spoken like this when Momma was alive, and he shouldn’t be saying it now.
“Momma kept us alive through some of the worst shit imaginable,” I say. “She was rich. Successful. She protected us all.”
“That doesn’t excuse everything she did,” Corvus says. “You know that most of all. You were the one who rebelled against her when I was too afraid to. Why are you defending her now?” I stare at him, at a loss for words for a moment, and he presses onward. “You’re so quick to forget the worst parts of her. Momma was cruel. She was killed by her own greed. Not to mention universally despised.”
I brush off my doubt. Things were different back then. I was childish, weak. I can’t afford to be that person now, not with all the responsibility resting on my shoulders.
“We’re already despised. We’re smugglers, remember? Off-worlders wherever we go. Scourge of the system, and all. Nobody cares which lines we cross and which we don’t. They can’t tell the difference.” Anger surges up as I think of the Titans fighting in their endless war, and the Gaians digging up alien weaponry; of Devans crossbreeding plants capable of destroying entire ecosystems, and Paxians selling weapons throughout the system. All of them treating us like we’re the criminals. Me especially, merely for the crime of existing. “We owe these people nothing. They treat us like shit. They think we’re scum. And why should we be anything else? Why should we try to be anything better than what they expect us to be?”
“To show them we can be more than what we were!” Corvus shouts, and I flinch back at the unexpected boom of his voice, the way he steps forward like he’s ready to throw a fist in my face. But he doesn’t. He stops, and lowers both his eyes and his volume. “To show them they can do the same.” He searches my face. “Don’t you remember what I used to say? That when I’m in charge, we could be whoever we want to be. Now that’s in your hands. Is this who you want to be, Scorpia? Is this who you want all of us to become?”
“That…” A lump forms in my throat. “That was a long time ago. We were stupid. Ignorant. Being in charge isn’t about who you want to be at all.” I shake my head. “It’s about becoming who you have to be. Being willing to get your hands dirty for the sake of everyone else. Like on Gaia, when I had to lie and steal because you couldn’t. Now all of you are counting on me.”
“I know exactly what that’s like,” he says, his voice rising again. “I was a sergeant on Titan. Did you ever stop to think about what that means? To think about the things I had to do in order to survive there? The choices I had to make? You think I got through three years keeping my hands clean?” He’s shouting again, too loud for me to even think about interrupting. “I did horrible things for the good of my people. And they died anyway.” His voice cracks, the anger dissolving into despair. I’m shocked to see his eyes wet with tears. “I’m never going to be able to come back from that. I’m never going to be able to sit with you and the others ever again without thinking of all the people who died for me to get there.” He sucks in a shaky breath. “I know I don’t deserve forgiveness for any of it. But I am doing everything I can to redeem myself. And that includes trying to keep you from making the same mistakes I did.”
My resolve is crumbling despite my best efforts, my shoulders starting to tremble.
“But you came back to us,” I say. “You survived Titan. What if becoming like that is the only way to keep going?” As much as I try to keep it down, an uncomfortable truth fights its way free of my mouth. “I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be like Momma, after everything she did to us. But the person I was before this wasn’t good enough to lead us. If I have to become someone I hate to take care of you all…” I’ve spent so long telling myself that becoming like Momma was the only way to save my family. I didn’t admit to myself until now how much that idea terrifies me. “I—I can feel all of you slipping away from me. I can feel myself fading away. I’m so fucking scared that’s the price of getting through this. But if that’s really the only way for us to survive, then what choice do I have?”
“I let myself think that way for too long,” Corvus says. “The truth is that there’s always a choice.” He takes a step toward me, hesitantly reaching out with one hand. “And you don’t have to shoulder the burden alone.”
I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze him against me. He wraps his arms around me, and I press my face into his shoulder to muffle my sob. Stars, it’s a relief to lean against someone rather than standing on my own. We hold each other until both of our tears die down. I pull back, ducking my head and wiping a hand under my eyes, my shoulders slumping. As meaningful as it is to begin to mend things with Corvus, it doesn’t change the fact that we’re completely screwed.
Before all of this happened, I couldn’t believe that Momma would work for the president she hated. On Titan, I backed out of my deal with General Ives because I knew it was wrong. Now, I’ve made my own agreement with Leonis, though I know exactly how terrible it is. Ever since Momma’s been gone, everything has fallen apart. First we lost her, and then Pol, and now we’re wrapped up in this mess with no way out. I’m afraid it’s too late to stop the war we’ve helped start.
“I’m scared, Corvus,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I don’t want to be a part of this. I don’t want to be this person. But I think it’s too late to turn back.”
“We’ll figure something out.” Corvus presses his forehead to mine and clasps the back of my head. “We’ve always been stronger together. That’s probably why Momma did her damnedest to keep us apart. But you need to come clean with everyone.”
“Yeah. I know.” I clear my throat as something else occurs to me. No more secrets. “Oh, and, uh… while we’re doing the whole honesty thing, I guess I should let you know that Momma wanted to leave Fortuna to you. She told us on the way to Titan.”
Corvus blinks at me, one corner of his mouth creeping into something close to a smile.
“She’s all yours, Scorpia. I was never going to take that away from you.”
Before I can respond, a clattering from the supply closet interrupts us. I jerk away from Corvus, who has his knife in his hand before I see him reach for it. We exchange a nervous glance.
“Someone there?” I call out, my stomach dropping. Shit, shit. I really hope that isn’t one of my sisters eavesdropping. This wasn’t the kind of explanation I wanted to give them.
“Lyre?” Corvus asks the darkness, which seems like the most reasonable guess, but no one responds.
“Maybe something just… fell?” I suggest half-heartedly, but Corvus is already pressing forward, his knife raised and ready. Gnawing my lip, I follow him toward the supply closet. The bay is silent as we approach, and I hold my breath and step lightly, afraid to make any sound.
Corvus shoves the door open with one shoulder and steps in at the same time.
“Hands up, now!”
Shit. He found someone. Someone who’s clearly not one of our siblings, if he’s threatening them. I hang back, heart pounding, unsure what to expect. How could someone have snuck on board the ship? I was distracted during the exchange with the Gaians. Could Leonis have sent someone? Did she plan to sabotage us from the start?
“W-wait, please. Where is Scorpia?”
My brain grinds to a halt at the sound of that voice. I know that voice. But there’s no way.
“Corvus, hold up.”
I push forward, grabbing his hand and jerking the knife’s point down. Standing in the supply closet, wide-eyed and wild-haired but still the same pretty face I remember, is—
“Shey? What the hell are you doing on my ship?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Stowaway
Corvus
As soon as my sister explains who the stowaway is, I want to tie up the Gaian and demand that she talks. Instead, Scorpia insists on bringing her to the kitchen to get something to eat and drink.
We sit across from her while Shey scarfs down an inhuman amount of water and dried algae. Scorpia still hasn’t deigned to explain how or why she’s acquainted with the daughter of the Gaian president and what exactly the nature of their relationship is, but it’s not difficult to guess why she’s going easy on her.
Even after a couple of days spent hiding in the cargo bay, with unwashed hair and bags beneath her eyes and algae crumbs sticking to her lips, Shey is unmistakably beautiful. And as hard as Scorpia is trying to put on a threatening face, her gaze is softer than it should be and lingering in places where it doesn’t belong. I keep catching her staring at Shey when she thinks I’m not looking, and then shooting me guilty looks when she realizes I am.
After Shey tears through her third packet of algae, I snatch the rest away and level her with a glare.
“That’s enough.” My annoyance makes it very easy to layer threat into my tone. “Time to talk. First things first: How the hell did you get on our ship?”
Scorpia folds her arms across her chest and says nothing. Either she trusts me to take point on this, or she doesn’t trust herself enough to handle it. Works for me.
Shey wipes the crumbs off her face and folds her hands primly in her lap. Even if I didn’t know who her mother was, it would be easy to see the Gaian manner in her straight posture and gloved, neatly folded hands. I suppress a sigh. Of course Scorpia had to get entangled with the worst person possible: not only a Gaian, but the daughter of the treacherous, xenophobic president who hired us to start a war. Scorpia always has to make everything as difficult as possible.
No matter how my sister feels, considering that this woman’s mother made the call to wipe out my entire home-planet and everyone I’ve known and loved over the past three years, I’m not inclined to be gentle or forgiving with her.
“If you would give me a few minutes to freshen up,” Shey says. “I would—”
“You’re a stowaway, not a guest. You’re not in a position to be making demands. Answer the question.”
Shey’s eyebrows rise. She glances at Scorpia. “Well, isn’t he charming,” she says.
Scorpia puts a closed hand to her mouth to hide a grin, and clears her throat when I glare at her.
“I have to say, I didn’t take you for the stowaway type,” she says, looking at Shey. “Tell us what’s going on.”
Shey sighs, her hands tightening on her lap.
“I already had some suspicions, but I knew something was wrong after that conversation with my mother,” she says. “I couldn’t return to Gaia with her, knowing what I know. So, instead I came to your ship, waited for you to unlock it for the cargo, and found the emergency escape hatch near the engine room.” She shrugs at Scorpia’s surprised look. “Every ship has one, of course. While you were all distracted making the exchange with my mother’s people, I snuck on board and hid. I wanted to make sure we were far enough out that you wouldn’t turn back and drop me on Deva.”
“Okay,” Scorpia says, while I stare at the Gaian with narrowed eyes. “That explains the how. But why?”
“I’m trying to stop you from making a very serious mistake.”
“Skip the cryptic shit and get to the point.” I drum my fingers on the table. Shey frowns, eyes darting to Scorpia again. My sister gestures for her to go on, and I resist the urge to snap at her for coddling the woman.
“Give me a moment, I’m trying to get my thoughts in order,” Shey says. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. As much as I want to think she’s putting on an act, she does look genuinely exhausted, so I wait. “I suppose I should start with the obvious: My mother lied to you.”
“Shocking,” Scorpia says dryly.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here,” I say.
“I’m here because I don’t want you to start a war based off my mother’s lies,” Shey says, her voice surprisingly fierce. She takes a deep breath and flicks hair out of her face, collecting herself again. “I don’t want you to start a war at all. I believe there’s another way.”
“Another way to do what?” I ask, glancing at Scorpia. Even after our heart-to-heart, I feel a flicker of doubt, wondering if she still hasn’t told me the whole truth—but she looks as confused as I am.
“Your mother didn’t tell us anything about what she’s doing,” Scorpia says. “Though I assumed this is part of her crazy plan for Gaian independence, sped up because of the storms and shit on your planet. Wiping out only the people so she can have Titan’s resources, Nibiru’s food supply.”
I think again of Titan, of the rapid updates flooding my phone. Whole forts wiped out, entire cities gone. I set my jaw, leaning forward to speak to Shey again.
“Talk faster.”
“I’ll be frank, then.” Shey raises her eyes to meet mine, lifting her chin as if to show she’s not afraid of me. “Gaia is dying.”
I blink, and scrutinize Shey’s expression for some sign that she’s lying, but find nothing.
“Dying?” Scorpia repeats, and then her confusion seems to clear. “The crop fields, the sanitation checks, now the storms… It is all connected somehow.”
Shey gives a small, miserable nod.
“Gaia is no longer the home I knew, and it’s only getting worse. That’s why my mother brought me to Deva in the first place.”
Unease prickles on the back of my neck. I thought a blossoming war was bad enough, but it seems the situation is even more complicated than we thought.
“When did it start?” The moment I ask the question, Shey’s eyes drop, and she bites her lip.
“I’m not supposed to know the details. My mother—”
“Your mother already wiped out Titan and is trying to use us to kill Nibiru. You owe us a full explanation.”
Shey shuts her eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.
“I suppose I’m already committing treason,” she says. “As Scorpia knows, I work in Gaia’s alien research department. We discovered a new Primus technology. Something we found buried deep in the earth, beneath the statues. It—”
“Hold up, beneath the statues?” Scorpia butts in, sitting up straighter.
“Yes. There’s a whole network of Primus-made tunnels below them. We haven’t even finished mapping them out.”
“Knew there was something weird about those things,” Scorpia mutters.
“Keep talking,” I tell Shey.
“We found a vial of blue liquid that evaporated into mist when released. We tested it in the labs, and it seemed… miraculous, for lack of a better word.” Her eyes get a faraway look, as if reliving that sight. “With the help of the mist, plants grew—no, thrived—even in Gaia’s barren soil. They grew at three times the rate one would expect, lush and fruitful and…” She trails off with a sigh. “Of course, my mother was overjoyed. All of us were. It seemed like a blessing from the Primus, an answer to all of Gaia’s problems. We could finally sustain our people without relying on ever-shakier drone deliveries. We had lived so long in fear, watching the food prices climb, knowing that if we refused trade with Nibiru and Deva the people of Gaia would starve in less than a year.” She glances at us. “Though you know that, of course. People like you profited off it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Scorpia says. “We’re smugglers, your mom committed genocide. I think the time for discussing ethics is long past. Go on.”
Guilt flashes across Shey’s face, and she continues.
“My mother was so excited that she signed an order to rush through testing,” she says. “We were enthusiastic enough that no one second-guessed her. We were optimistic… and foolish.” Her shoulders slump with the words. I can see where this story is going, but I stay quiet to hear it anyway, shaking my head. The Gaians always had far too much faith in aliens. “We used it on all of our crop fields. We thought that, at the worst, we would lose one harvest,” she says. “We weren’t able to grow much as it was, so it wasn’t a terrible price to pay, and such a high reward if it worked. And it seemed to at first. The crops grew, and flourished. And then, when they were about to be ready for harvest, they withered and died. Not only that, but the soil became completely sterile, unusable. The thing we used was not a miracle.”
