The crew stepped out of Antlia, each one with a mission. Ahzec bolted for one of the street merchants sweating over bubbling black cauldrons, his heavy boots scraping against the scarred metal bathed by the fluorescent lights. Kana carried the crate of stone faces to the back of the ship, setting it down to get a better look at the damage done by their little escape attempt.
Zoll, blades and guns hidden in her flowing long coat, fluttered her eyelashes at the dock-hand and handed her far less rai than needed to turn the magnetic locks on.
The crimson waters, trapped in by Red Dock’s ancient anti-gravity bubble, lapped against rock and metal. “How is she?” asked Zoll.
Leaning on the groaning hull, Kana extended a hand out and pulled a cable — severed and cackling, almost mockingly so — into view. Zoll sighed. Maybe she did push the ship a little too hard, and if she did then that would push their plans back. Again. Still, there was still a chance to make it worth it. Kaden’s black market shop was near the front of the settlement. All they had to do was get there. Out of the Red Docks, through the Soreval Market, and into the High Quarters near the very top. As long as no one stopped them, they’d be fine. And yet, Zoll couldn’t understand why Kaden was paying so much for whatever they found in the outer reaches.
Ahzec bumbled over, swinging his hip to nudge Zoll. The captain and Kana then each took a bowl from him. In silence they ate, each of them with their eyes zipping from side to side. The docks were lively, full of traders and stories. But it was also filled with thieves and pirates and maybe even people like them — but the crew had learned not to trust anyone bathed in the red glow from the massive crystal arching over the docks. Not that Soto’s other neighborhoods were much friendlier.
Zoll swiped through the flickering hologram of her records, brows knit and mouth pursed in focus. Ahzec cleared his throat, “Boss, got your stick ready?”
Darkly, both Kana and Zoll turned to him. Their hearts began racing, eyes wide open, ready to p-
“Not right now,” said Ahzec with his palms up. “Just, I saw something that looked like a rustler patch.”
“No way,” said Kana, crossing his arms. The crimson light washed over his sunken features as he stood tall and scanned the docks.
“Rustlers don’t land in Soto,” Zoll dismissed the hologram with a wave. “Either way, I do have the… stick.” Knives and guns were all well and good in Soto, but this was still Cerulea. Power lied in azir; the more you had, the easier it was to get through life — unless you’re unsundered. Like they were.
Kana picked up the crate. Ahzec buried his hands in his too-large pockets, a firm grip on a pistol. Zoll led the way, hazel eyes like a hawk, her coat billowing in the artificial wind. Often she wanted to give up, to simply fall in line and fit in. Just to have some peace, but would it truly be peace if she couldn’t be herself?
-
Zoll looked over her shoulder as they entered the streets of Sorenval replete with greenery and shimmering floating crystals, “I could just make it follow, you know?” Kana brought his knee up, balancing the crate before shifting his hand into a better position.
Kana shook his head. This close to the end, he wanted to feel the weight. The mesh of scars on his right cheek hidden by his beard made his smile lopsided, each healed rip and tear a reminder of what he narrowly escaped. In the soft glow of the lights refracted in the floating crystals, he looked at Zoll as she gave him a quick smile and turned back to lead the way.
A boisterous call leapt from the gentle buzz coating Sorenval’s sandy-colored streets. “Zoll!” From a heavily guarded building with teal glass doors, a man with a mane of wild black hair walked over to the crew. Ahzec paced back to stand between the crate and the stranger. Kana felt heat pooling in the back of his chest and spill into his arms. Zoll, with a casual gesture, instructed the other two to keep moving as she did.
The man swept closer, arms opening for a hug. With a piercing glare, Zoll stopped him in his tracks. He laughed and held his hands up, “Ah, that fire…” He wore a sleek pale blue coat wrapped tightly around his chest and flared open around his waist down to his knees. Over his chest, back, elbows and shoulders plates of enchanted black ceramic lined with silver sizzled with power. Little arcs of flame and strands of ice grew as he spoke and shrunk in his silences. “Come now,” his velvety voice crooned, “we can forget about that time you and your boys snagged one little fuel canister from us.” Zoll didn’t break her pace, the crowd of well-dressed jewelled perusers parted as they took notice of the man’s voice. “After all,” he continued, golden eyes washing over Kana and Ahzec, “I get it. You needed to eat that week.”
Zoll’s fingernails dug into her palms.
“Still, what a fall from grace for the ever so dotted-on Zoll Gra—”
Zoll’s hand bolted like a viper’s head. The man caught it, his face close enough that he could feel her heated breath crash on his neatly trimmed stubble. “You’re out of practice,” a heavy silence fell over Sorenval’s streets. “I only want to make you an offer, mother dearest doesn’t have to know anything.”
The two of them pulled away from each other and almost instantly the crowd’s chatter came back to life. “I’m not joining up any merc company, Holt. End of discussion,” said Zoll as she strode away.
Hands on his hips, Holt cast another line as the little group made their way to the elevators. “Even as an alchemist, just building and repairs, you could make… easily,” he brought a finger to his lips before leaning forward, “four million rai in a year.”
Zoll flinched, if only for a second, and she hated that she did. Quickly she accelerated, Ahzec and Kana in tow.
Feeling the bite, Holt pressed on, “A brand new ship would be something around two million these days, one with a BSD no less!” he shouted as the crowd began to fill in the empty space between Holt and Antlia’s crew. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth then his shoulders fell. With a disheartened look he dragged himself back to the heavily guarded building, opening the door for a tall slender woman in a black uniform.
-
Zoll, arms crossed, leaned against the elevator’s wall. Kana stared at the crate sitting on the floor between them. Ahzec, eyes closed, wiped the beads of sweat on his forehead with deep but quiet exhales. At most, that job would net them a million, just enough to outfit Antlia with a Black Star Drive able to reach Nablin.
“Holt’s company works for anyone,” said Zoll, breaking the silence, “it doesn’t matter where the money comes from or the damage it does.”
“You don’t have to explain,” said Kana.
“Still, four million rai,” said Ahzec without moving, contemplating what they could do with so much.
Zoll shook her head, “I’d rather die before I take his money. Or he’d just turn me in to the ITF before paying me.”
Ahzec sighed, “At this point, I wonder if being sundered would be all that bad in the end. We wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.”
His voice boomed at first but Kana’s glare quickly reigned it in, “It’s bad. I’ve seen what it does to people. They said they felt like half of a person, like part of them was missing and locked away. The older you are when it happens, the worst it is. Some just died right then and there.”
Ahzec, impassible, replied, “I’m at the point where I’d rather have that than living like a rat scurrying away from the light.” He took a deep breath, “Sure we’re whole but we’re barely scraping by to survive. I just don’t want people to be afraid of us.”
“You’re not wrong. Still...” said Zoll, “sometimes, the world needs to change, not you.” Ahzec shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We can’t move mountains,” she said, glancing at Kana before turning back to Ahzec, “but until they shift we can at least be somewhere safe. Somewhere we can live as who we are, not as muted versions of ourselves.”
Ahzec wanted to throw something back; that was plain to see in his tight jaw and tired eyes. Years ago, he fought less against Kana and Zoll’s optimism — or their unwillingness to relinquish their ideals. He thought of their hope as a natural way to balance his impulses to simply give in, but it had become grating. Like he was simply wrong for being more of a realist. Still, without them, where would he go?
The elevator doors opened. Zoll knelt to grab the crate but Kana picked it up before she could. “Obstinate, huh?” she said with a smile.
“Weighs nothing,” said Kana as he walked out ahead of her.
The High Quarters’ blinding white and vibrant blue streets were, as they tended to be, empty. Zoll looked back over the ledge, her gaze skipped over the verdant canopy of Sorenval and caught a glimpse of their ship hovering over the crimson waters of the Red Docks. If this job paid enough, they could repair Antlia, get it a BSD, and finally get to Nablin. All those years of scrounging up enough to get by, all coming to an end. If Kaden was satisfied. Ahzec led the way forward, head on a swivel. Thousands of people lived in the Red Docks, on top of each other; hundreds lived in Sorenval, rather comfortably; but the High Quarters? There were twelve. Kaden was the only one with a face and a name.
In the midst of the fatiguing glare, a cozy alcove lit by warm lights invited the crew in. In Kaden’s small shop, all of the counters, shelves, and walls were barren safe for the few warm lights. Within, their boots struck dark wood floors and, as if the rhythm of their steps was a signal, a panel opened in one of the walls. Kaden, thin-framed glasses before his light brown eyes and a white scarf wrapped around his throat, walked into the room. Zoll approached but Kaden raised a finger. They all held their breath.
“Any issues?” he asked.
Zoll shook her head. Kaden looked to Kana’s paler-than-usual face and gestured for him to approach. Kana heaved the crate on the counter. Slipping a glove on, Kaden pinched his index and middle finger together before bringing it to the crate. He pulled his fingers away. Black and white azir tendrils transmuted the wood into glass, creating a window. He looked at the ice and the stone faces within. With a satisfied nod, he removed the glove. Not a movement wasted, not even a single strand of his impeccable curly hair wavered. Zoll’s lips parted for her to speak but Kaden closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Bring it in when you’re done.” A glass pane fell over the crate and Kaden.
“Done?” asked Zoll. Kana took a step back when he caught sight of the barrel pointed at him.
“Don’t make this worse than it has to be,” said Ahzec. The pounding of his heart ran through his entire body, the faint pulses in his finger pushing against the trigger. A squeeze and the flat barrel would spin, sending a bolt of molten lead toward Kana.
Zoll stepped in the line of fire. “You know that gun’s not gonna do anything to me.”
Ahzec shook his head, “That’s the point,” he croaked out. “That’s the fucking point!” he screamed. “You just walked away from four million rai, you have options! This,” he knocked on the glass separating them from the crate, “at most, Kaden said a million. I’m not like you, boss. Kana too, with your computer hacking stuff — I don’t get gifted a chance.” He stilled his breathing, “I need to make my own luck.”
He gripped the gun with both hands.
Zoll reached into her pocket, a gust of wind pulsing from her body. Her free hand pointed to Ahzec, the tears welling in her eyes illuminated by the light of a fireball zooming across the room.
The flaming azir engulfed Ahzec’s hands. The gun fired at the ceiling. Zoll’s head whipped to the entrance. The spell wasn’t hers.
Holt leaned on one of the support beams, stark silhouette carved by the white light beyond. Three birds made of flame sat on his shoulder. “That’s what you get for being so nice, Zoll.” He shot at her while Ahzec screamed, his body folded over his hands. She looked at Ahzec, at the pain on his face. And when she could look no more, she heard the whimpering.
“Sair Kaden,” said Holt, almost amused, “Unlike greasy boy over there I can break that little bit of glass and unlike this prim and proper lady here, I won’t feel bad about it. How’s about you open it up instead? Save you the cost of repairs.”
Kaden disappeared through the panel and at the same time the glass pane rose and disappeared through the ceiling.
“Always a pleasure dealing with that man,” said Holt before tilting back, barking an order to someone in the distance. Casually pushing himself off the support beam, he gave Zoll a sheepish smile with a shrug. “For the record, if you came to work with me, I wouldn’t have you do these kinds of things. Offer still stands, just, by the way.”
He cleared his throat and patted down his clothes. Next to Holt, a tall slender woman with dark circles beneath her eyes walked in. She wore an all-black garment like a hybrid between a trench coat and a gala dress. If the striking sound of her steps were any indication, she was wearing heels. The insignia pinned to her lapel sent chills down Zoll’s spine. ITF. Three little letters, a euphemism for the hell the crew had been running from their entire lives.
The woman’s glacial green stare washed over the crew one by one. She held her hands behind her back, her infinitely thin features like blades pointing to the crate. “Have one of your personnel retrieve the contraband.” That voice, at once Zoll recognized it; the same voice that came from the ITF ship they thought they escaped.
“The ITF, Holt?” Zoll snapped.
Holt shrugged, “Listen, as long as you’ve got your good boy necklace,” he pulled out a thin pendant shaped like a flame emerging from a blooming flower, “it doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you’re a faithful believer.” The woman’s insignia was identical safe for the sword and rifle crossed in front of the flame. One of Holt’s men retrieved the crate. As the woman focused on the box, Holt pulled another pendant from his shirt, then another, and another. Each one with different, contradicting symbols. With a flick of his wrist, he threw them behind his back when the woman swung round to leave.
Kana, dejected, walked past Zoll to the quiet solemn mess that was Ahzec. Zoll, furious, stared at Holt.
He held a finger up, looked back to the streets, then leaned forward. “Now, Zoll, wanna get your stuff back and, and” he repeated when she stomped toward him, “and get paid. No long contract, we just sneak on that ITF ship, do what we need to, and then we all get paid.”
Zoll was ready to sling venom at Holt but hushed whispers drew her eyes to Kana trying his best to conjure up a healing spell to ease Ahzec’s pain. In vain. Resigned, she looked at Holt and shook her head. Not to say no. She closed her eyes and let her body fall back. Just to feel the wall catch her. In that moment, her last thread of hope frayed. Nothing could turn out for the best — all that life would be ever be was a string of one-last-jobs. Holt crouched, drawing her glare as the mess of necklaces shimmered in the lights.
His voice came calm and sincere, “You’re not the only one looking for an out.”