I force my eyes open. The fog of whatever sleep-inducing drug I was injected with makes my head pound. It takes me a few minutes to regain a sense of where I am and what happened.
I’m in a cargo hold. Towers of duraplast crates are stacked up all around me. There’s a flimsy blanket covering my legs, and it’s only then I realize how incredibly cold I am. My breath puffs out in front of me, and every muscle aches—especially my shoulder—from the shivering I must have done while passed out.
Am I still on the Phenyx?
I touch my forehead. The pain is excruciating. I close my eyes and try to recall what happened. Snatches come back, disjointed and incoherent.
A warning bell.
The sound of thudding boots.
A sense of dread.
Sharp pain.
I gasp, and my eyes fly open. Renner. He was…he was shot.
Tears flood my vision. There has to be a mistake. My memory must be playing tricks on me if—
“Ah, you’re awake. Welcome to the Rim.”
I’m so distracted by what has to be a false memory that I didn’t hear the hold door slide open. A man stands there in a gray onesuit.
“Brownus?”
“I can see the drugs are wearing off. Good.” He straightens his shoulders and assesses me.
I don’t understand what’s going on. He was the only other passenger on the Phenyx, and Hike said they’d known one another for cycles. Brownus is a clean-vac salesman for star’s sake!
“I’m sorry for what you had to go through, Trilla, I am.” He leans up against a stack of crates. “But there’s always a bottom line.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but one thing gives me hope. He still thinks my name is Trilla.
“What—what are you talking about?” My throat is dry from whatever drugs still linger in my system, but I need information more than I need hydration.
“Poor choices and drastic measures.” He stands up, head tilting to the side. “If you promise to behave, I’ll have you taken to a cabin. We’ll be at Rezzi in two hours, and I must have you ready by then.”
Rezzi. I’ve heard that name before. It’s in the Outlier Rim. “Ready for what? What’s in Rezzi?”
“Your destiny, my dear.” Brownus smiles wide and calls out. “Tate, take her to quarters and stand guard.”
“Chore, boss.” A man the size of a small flouse—and just as heavy—fills the doorway, and I can’t help but press my back into the cold duraplast wall. He looms over me, and his voice holds a definite outlier accent. “C’mon. Now.”
I lean away, but he snatches the back of my onesuit and hauls me up.
“Careful. She’s valuable.”
“Chore.” Despite what I assume means yes in his language, he shoves me, and I go tripping across the room.
“I said careful,” Brownus growls.
“Ja, ja!” Tate throws a meaty hand up to stay Brownus’s protests. He takes my upper arm in a grip that will definitely leave a mark and hauls me out of the hold. “C’mon.”
I feel like a doll as I’m yanked down a hall I’ve never seen before. That’s when it hits me. I’ve left the Phenyx.
I gasp. “Where are we?”
My steps are three to Tate’s one.
“Ship.”
Anger flares, and I want to lash out, verbally and physically, but I’m still too groggy. Besides, I can’t risk them discovering my true identity. As long as they still think I’m Trilla Lars, I’m in less danger, though it all feels bad right about now.
I need Renner. I need to know he’s okay. I need to know what I remember is just a bad, drug-induced dream.
“My—my husband?” I hope Tate will suddenly become chatty.
He grunts.
I need to find someone who knows something here. Now that I’m moving, my senses are returning quickly, and I feel the urgency to form a plan. For that, I need information.
We reach the end of a long hallway, and Tate jabs a finger at the wall. I’m surprised it doesn’t dent the sio-screen. The door slides open to reveal a narrow cabin with a bed folded down on one side and a facilities closet on the other. It’s utterly barren aside from those two things.
“Wait, can I please—”
He shoves me in, and the door slides shut. I jolt back at the sound of several locking mechanisms sliding into place. There’s no way I’m getting out of here.
I’m numb, and it has nothing to do with whatever they dosed me with. I’m trapped on a ship somewhere in the Outlier Rim, and something bad is coming.
Where is Renner? Is he all right? Hopelessness washes over me, but it’s quickly replaced by pulsing rage. I turn to the wall, attacking it with my fists in a futile attempt to do damage. I scream and kick and threaten, but it’s of no use. The high-grade duraplast stares back, unaffected.
When my energy is deflated, I sink onto the cot and drop my head into my hands. It’s useless. I might as well—
“Hello?”
I jerk upright at the sound of a muffled voice. Where is it coming from?
I jump to my feet, spinning in a slow circle.
“Hello?”
There. I hear it again. At the very top of the narrow room, there’s a vent. It must go to another cabin like this—or should I call it a cage?
I prepare to float myself upward but then stop. Is it possible there are cameras in the room?
“Hold on,” I shout. “Just hold on.”
“Okay.” The voice is faint, but it’s there.
I stand back and take in the room. My eyes glide over the smooth walls until I see it, right above the facilities closet. A small, dark circle with a faint green light. They’re filming me.
I press a button, and the toilet slides out. The next second, there’s a soft click, and the camera light turns red. I press it again to close the closet, and the green light flickers to life. So, Brownus, or whoever runs this ship, has a conscience? It’s nice to know he won’t film if we use the facilities. Though I assume that’s due to the laws where this spaceship was built, seeing as each sector is governed by codes builders must comply with.
With a defiant stare at the corner, I jam my finger on the facilities button, and the toilet slides out again. The light goes off, and I shoot up using my Gravless ability. I feel weak. The strain of keeping myself aloft is more than I can manage right now, but connection to this disembodied voice pushes me past the point of comfort.
“Hello?” I press my lips close to the vent.
“Hello?” The voice replies. I can hear better closer to the vent. It sounds like a woman, but I can’t be sure.
“Who is this?”
“I—it’s Eben.”
Eben…it takes a moment to register, but I place the name. A short, slight girl with a buzzcut and an olive green onesuit who served us our meals and initiated the cleaning protocols in our room on the Phenyx.
“Eben, it’s Tal—” I almost tell her my real name but catch myself. Careful, Talie. Your life—and Renner’s—depends on it. “It’s Trilla. What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice cracks, and I can imagine the tears I hear in her voice. “I was delivering a meal to the bridge for Captain Hike when Brownus asked him to pull alongside this ship. Brownus said he knew the captain and wanted to switch to the new vessel, so Hike agreed.” She sniffs loudly, and I wish I could put an arm around her.
Just then, the toilet begins to move back. Stars! It must have a time-delay shut off. I drop myself to the floor just as the light flickers back on and barely hear Eben recounting her story before I have time to press the button again. Then up I go.
“—watched the live feed as the ship docked. But all of the sudden, these four huge guys got out with blast rifles, and—and,” her breath shakes, “one of them shot Malik.”
“I’m so sorry, Eben.” Unbidden, an image of Renner’s body flying back floods my vision. It’s not real. It can’t be. “What happened next?”
“I—I was frozen. It all happened so fast, and then Hike bolted. I tried to put out a distress call, but I wasn’t fast enough. One of those goons made it to the bridge and grabbed me. I’ve been in this cell ever since.”
I open my mouth to ask, but the words won’t come out. I force them.
“Do you…” My voice cracks. “Do you know what happened to Re—my husband? To Rex?”
She’s quiet, and I hear my thrashing pulse in the silence. Nausea churns like I’ve done too many flips after a meal, throwing me off balance.
“I don’t know,” she finally says.
Anger surges to the surface. She doesn’t know? She has to know something, or else she wouldn’t have paused. She has to know—
The toilet beeps once, and I know it’s about to close.
“Eben, how do we get out of here?” I don’t know if I expect an answer.
“We don’t.” Her words are filled with defeat.
I won’t accept that.
The toilet swings inward. I have seconds left. “We’ll get out of here, Eben. We will.”
I drop to the floor as the camera flickers on.
“We will,” I whisper to the bare walls.