Chapter 30
When I was twelve years old, I broke my wrist.
I was out in the woods with my ray gun. It was dark.
Nighttime. I’d already been caught by the Master once, but this was after I rediscovered the gun back in my room, after I realized I didn’t have the strength to let it go.
Instead, I’d resolved to be smarter. Sneakier.
I would wait until the house was asleep, then pull the weapon out from under my mattress, slip through the window, and creep into the woods to practice shooting by moonlight.
It didn’t take me long before I became adept at all this sneaking.
It made me overconfident. I stopped paying attention to pits and roots.
One night as I was running through the woods toward my usual spot, I stepped wrong and fell over a gulf.
Tumbled right down into a creek of muddy water.
At first, the surprise was all I could think of.
That dizzying What the hell just happened?
Covered in river water, disoriented in the dark.
Then came the pain.
That’s how it is now in this prison cell. There’s a full three seconds where I just stand here, unable to process what I’m seeing. My mind has tripped over a gulf, and I’m wondering what the hell just happened. I wait for my thoughts to right themselves, to make some sense of the situation.
Then, painfully, they do.
“Master Ira?” The words burst from me like I’ve been punched in the gut. My head is a tangle of shock and disbelief and … anger?
Yeah. The heat in my chest is definitely anger.
“What the actual fuck?” I shout, backing up against the bars on the cell’s opposite side. “What’s going on right now? Is this some kind of a prank?” The Master starts to reply, but I keep going. “I don’t—this doesn’t—what are you doing here?”
“Sitting, I suppose,” he finally gets in, with a dryness that’s so familiar it makes me choke.
“I don’t understand.” The dim overhead lamp is warping before my eyes, spilling color like a flood.
The bars—once solid—appear thin and filmy.
I think I’m having some sort of neurological event.
“How did you get in here? How long have you been on this ship? Are you”—and now my brain does seem to be catching up—“are you Doc Min’s prisoner? ”
The Master pushes slowly to his feet. The man I remember was stout and strong, rosy-faced, with a smile that seemed to come from within.
The person before me has the Master’s face, but he’s thin, haggard.
He struggles to get himself upright, using the metal bars for support.
I can’t really see his frame—it’s buried under layers of filthy brown robes—but from the looks of it, he’s lost a lot of weight.
“To answer your questions in order,” Master Ira replies, “I was forced into this cell against my will, I’ve been here for three years, and yes, I am a prisoner.
” He gives a small smile. “It appears I have given you a shock.” The smile quickly fades.
He takes his turn studying me, his gaze lingering on the raw skin at my wrists where my hands were cuffed. “Are you hurt?”
“I—” Yes. “No.” A pause. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“I am not, unfortunately.” His face is like a headstone, worn with years. “Ran has been taunting me with the possibility of your capture since I arrived.”
“Doc Min wanted to capture me?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then…?”
“He has been using your freedom to threaten me. He said if I did not give him the information he desired, he would do you harm. Then I learned Nina invited you onto The Parallax as part of their plan to recruit you. I suspected things might take a turn for the worse.” He folds his hands into his loose sleeves, an old movement, habitual, also familiar.
“You’ll be wanting the full story, I’m sure.
But first, let’s get you some water, hmm? ”
“I’m not thirsty.”
He procures a small waterskin from within his robes. “I insist.”
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Keller.” He gives me a look, and all at once I’m nine years old again. “Your eyes are dilated. And your complexion is a worrying shade of gray. If you faint, I won’t have the strength to catch you.”
The Master holds out the canteen. This time, I accept the item with trembling fingers and take a drink. Cool water slides down my throat. Once I start, I can’t seem to stop. I gulp until my stomach pangs in protest.
When I’m finished, I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand and give the canteen back.
I think I’m supposed to be asking the Master questions right now.
I can’t stop staring at him.
He’s here. He’s here, and I’m here, and I can’t make it make sense.
“You said Ran Doc Min wanted information?” I finally manage.
“About Mount Kilmon,” Master Ira says, propping himself against the bars on his side of the cell.
“Doc Min’s guards captured me shortly after you left for the Academy.
The Determinists wanted to know about Mount Kilmon, its explosion cycle, and most importantly, our colony there.
You remember that to become a Master of the Order, initiates must live on the volcano for one full eruption cycle, but we don’t just live on the volcano—we live inside it.
Under the mountain’s surface exists a labyrinth of tunnels.
We use those tunnels for training, housing, storage.
Some extend all the way into the volcano’s core.
This information was important to Doc Min. ”
“I saw the heat collectors,” I say. “He’s filling them with voroxide. He wants to plant them inside the volcano.”
“He already has. They started switching real collectors out for fake ones earlier this year.”
“And no one noticed?”
“How would they? They are perfect replicas.” Master Ira’s face creases. “If you know about the collectors, then you must know about the rest of Doc Min’s plan.”
I nod. “I broke into the simulation room.”
At that, the Master’s mouth twitches. “Did you now?”
“Doc Min caught me. He admitted everything.”
“His plan—forgive me for saying so—is genius. When Mount Kilmon erupts, Ran Doc Min’s prediction will appear to come true.
The Venthrothians who pledge him loyalty will use his neutralizer to survive.
When the rest of the galaxy sees that Doc Min predicted this event and saved those devoted to his movement, they’ll be scrambling to join him. ”
I’m tempted to bury my face in my hands. “This is shit.”
“Indeed.”
“Three years,” I say, as something else occurs to me.
“You’ve been trapped here for three years.
So does this … I mean…” My mouth works uselessly.
A part of me feels like it’s the wrong time to bring this up.
There’s so much else going on—so many more pressing problems. But …
“Does this mean you weren’t … ignoring me? ”
His expression is suddenly wary. “Ignoring you?”
“I sent you messages,” I tell him. “After I left for the Academy. I thought—I mean, I thought you’d disowned me.”
“Keller.” He looks stunned. “What?”
“Because I chose the Legion over the Order. I figured you couldn’t …
I didn’t think you’d be able to forgive me.
” I’m horrified to hear my voice go thin with emotion.
I look down at my feet and try to get ahold of myself.
“I brought a gun onto school grounds. I ran away from the children’s home to join the Academy.
I didn’t even say goodbye. I thought you were angry with me.
That you felt betrayed by my choices. And I would have understood, I would still understand—”
Arms come around me suddenly, cutting off my words as Master Ira pulls me into a hug. “Apata, no.”
I’m so stunned that for a second I can’t move. He tightens his grip, and I bring my arms up, swallow back the sudden urge to burst into tears.
“I would never abandon you,” he says. “Never. Haven’t I told you that before? Didn’t you remember?”
And—shit. Now I am crying. I grip him back and press my face into his shoulder, try to hold my breath against the tears. He smells the same. Like earth and stone, autumn, books. He smells like my childhood.
A boom shakes the ship, startling us apart. An alarm begins to sound.
“That,” the Master says, “is unusual.”
“Oh,” I say, and I feel almost like laughing. “Probably should have led with this. My friends are coming to save us.”
A moment later, the spaceship gives a giant heave, and all the lights go dark.