Hope Forged (The Gifting #11)

Prologue

A digital landscape whizzed past Ziamee as she traveled through the canyon, flying her research skiff along its ravines and over sheer cliff faces. She wrapped her hands around the joystick and yanked to the right, banking the ship icon on the extended fore-screens.

“What do you see?” her father asked, his voice in her earpiece.

“Undiscovered fauna to the east. Two unknowns grazing to the northwest and a few water creatures that show promise.” She read the findings off her headpiece display—the data scrolling across her vision. “Padya, what if I fly in closer; won’t I find more?”

“With any new biosphere, you will be bombarded with choices. Finding more will come with time. For now, which of the three seems a good place to start?”

“Well…” Ziamee chewed on her lip. “By the time I reach the grazers, they might’ve moved on. I don’t have the tools to catch those in the river. That leaves the flora: immobile and accessible.”

“Excellent,” Padya crooned, his approval in the warmth of his voice. “Now remember, a xenologist vows not to disturb the fauna and flora they study, but sometimes, it’s unavoidable.”

Ziamee whirled her skiff around and headed toward the marker, eyeing the ground in search of a suitable spot to land. “So, do reconnaissance before I take a sample?”

“Document as much as possible, and take a scraping at first. Don’t clip off a leaf until you know it’s harmless.”

“Can’t find a spot to land, Padya,” she wailed. “What do I do now?”

“Oh, for Elorach’s sake, Amet, she’s nine,” Mudya cried out, loud enough to penetrate Ziamee’s headpiece.

Ziamee flicked a button on the joystick. The imagery spluttered to black. She yanked off the visor and raised wide eyes at her mother.

“Leave the child, Faerar,” Padya said, giving Ziamee’s shoulder a squeeze.

“She’s neglected her studies. In allowing this, it teaches her not to persevere.” Mudya huffed.

Overcome with guilt, Ziamee lowered her gaze. Mudya was right about her avoiding her studies. Anything was better than hours spent on a subject that bored her.

She clasped her hands on her lap and peered under her eyelashes at her mother. “I’m sorry.”

Mudya’s expression softened. “Perhaps a bath?”

Ziamee leaped to her feet and packed away the visor. Baths weren’t unpleasant, but it would delay returning to her tablet and Oztai’s tutelage.

“Oh, my.” Mudya grinned. “You hate applied physics that much?” She tapped her chin. “Learn the basics, then you need not touch it again.”

Hope blossomed like the birthing of a dwarf star. “Truly?” Ziamee asked, her focus vigilant.

Mudya hummed, then laughed when Ziamee threw her arms around her mother’s waist.

“Bath first.”

Ziamee pulled away, then skipped to her quarters.

“You spoil her as much as I do,” Padya teased.

Ziamee didn’t catch Mudya’s response as her door shut.

Her cabin was narrow, her bed a deep slit in the bulkhead.

She’d draped her sleep robe over the back of a chair.

On the opposite side was a built-in table with her stacked tablets and datacubes.

The ray was embedded in the floor to the rear of her room.

A bath took moments; still, it required that she strip.

In the chillier atmosphere of space, she was never warm enough.

A shiver wracked her, but she stepped onto the disc.

Around it spun, chiming when it wanted her to lift her arms above her head.

It was the tightness of her skin she hated. The sensation gritted her teeth, and she swept up a dirty garment to rub it over her body. Dressed in a fresh tunic, jerkin, and pants, she returned to the lounge.

On the counter sat a steaming cup of kandyru. Mudya made it for her every night just before the resting hour. Ziamee clambered onto the stool and pulled the tisane closer, drawing in a deep inhale before taking a tentative sip. She hummed when the spicy tea warmed her mouth, throat, then belly.

She cradled the cup, relishing the moment alone. But as the minutes dragged on, she frowned, tilted her head to listen. The silence was unusual without her parents’ banter filling the air.

“Oz?” she asked, raising her chin to the ceiling.

“Yes, Ziamee,” he droned.

“Did you hear that Mudya said I don’t have to study applied physics anymore?” She arched a hopeful brow.

“I did indeed, however, only after you’ve learned the basics.”

She slumped, having hoped, like a fool, that Oz hadn’t caught the full conversation when the A.I. was everywhere on the ship. “Yeah, do we need to start that soon?”

“According to your curriculum, we have nineteen weeks to complete—”

A sharp beep blared, piercing and persistent. Frantic taps and hushed instructions reached her. She leaped off the stool and padded to the head. Padya gripped the joystick, his knuckles white, matching his pinched lips. Mudya fired lasers at something ahead.

Odd that they were playing a tutorial. Although, Ziamee couldn’t recall there being a combat module. She slipped in amid the chaos and settled against the rear bulkhead to watch the fore-screens. Rocks, looking like pebbles, twirled, drifted, and knocked into each other, spiraling outward.

Asteroids.

Padya’s face was contorted with fear, his cheeks flushed. Mudya was stoic though determination hardened her chin. They were taking this far too seriously.

“What’s going on, Oz?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “Are they doing a simulation for—”

“Miscalculation on our trajectory. Unanticipated crossing of an asteroid belt.” The artificial intelligence powering their ship didn’t know how to whisper.

She cringed.

Mudya sucked in a sharp breath, glanced at her, then smacked the button. The laser struck the approaching boulder with no effect. Padya tried to avoid it, but its sheer size made that impossible. The shorter distance was starboard, but even then, they’d tear off half their ship.

She chewed her lip, seeing the worst scenario play out.

A screech of metal meeting jagged rock proved her suspicions correct when Padya angled the ship at the last second, causing it to scrape along the bottom of the Haile. Sirens added to the cacophony, and the console lit up, flickering colors in panic.

“Oz, find us a habitable planet,” he yelled.

“No, we can make it,” Mudya said, still aiming and shooting. The white beams struck true but didn’t deter its approach. Chunks broke off in an explosion of dust, peppering the ship’s hull.

“Kuck,” she muttered, stepping back.

“Oz,” Padya said, removing his hands from the lever. “Get us to safety.”

The ship banked, clipping its port side across the asteroid’s surface.

Mudya hugged Ziamee but stared at the fore-screens. The air thickened with tension. The alarms cut off, the deafening silence almost too much to bear. The lights still flickered, only serving as a visual distraction from imminent destruction.

She held her breath with each new obstacle Oz managed to swerve until they’d passed it. But another loomed, then more stretched out whenever the view cleared long enough for her to catch a glimpse of what lay in store for them.

A gap between colliding asteroids appeared, allowing a nearby star to illuminate a path ahead. They careened toward a tiny green planet. Two tiny moons orbited it.

“Scanning the surface for a suitable crash site,” Oz droned.

“What?” Mudya squeaked, then cleared her throat. “Where—”

“I suggest securing yourselves. I will attempt to protect the head.”

Padya leaped from the seat and hoisted Ziamee into his arms. He waited a second for the panels in the rear bulkhead to open, revealing the pods behind.

“Padya?” Ziamee pleaded with him while he strapped her in.

“Little one, we love you,” Mudya said from over his shoulder.

The pod shut, clunking as it sealed her in. With no windows, a structural weakness, Ziamee couldn’t know what was going on beyond this confined space.

In the cocoon, she listened, crying out when the ship shuddered and jerked.

Tears slipped free, but she couldn’t wipe them away with her arms strapped down.

Anything could’ve happened to her parents.

Had they made it to their pods? Was she alone?

Each noise was amplified in the cushioned stillness the enclosure provided.

Intermittent booms hit the underside of the ship, increasing in pace, then with one jarring shudder, the Haile lurched forward and slammed into something.

For a second, all the force came to a halt, hard enough to yank her within the constraints, then they were sliding, grinding, scraping, becoming airborne, then thumping down, rattling her teeth.

They slowed until, at last, they stopped.

The tinkle of heated metal and her ragged breathing dominated the unnatural quiet.

She patted the padded interior beneath her fingertips, searching for a release mechanism. Screams rang in her ears, amid sobs and whimpers. When she gulped in air, she realized the ruckus was coming from her.

“Oz,” she yelled, wiping her cheek with her shoulder. “Is… Is everyone all right?”

“All is well. For the most part.”

With a hiss, the panel slid aside. Hot air bathed her, adding to the sweat on her skin. The stench of burned electronics, melted metal, heated air, and the sickly sweet smell of fire retardant stung her nose.

When Padya appeared before her, she swallowed a gasp.

“Status update,” he said while setting her free.

Behind him, a sharp rock split the fore-screens in two.

“Engines gone,” Oz said. “All fires extinguished.”

With her hand in his, Padya led her along the passage to the lounge.

More boulders pierced the ship where her cabin had been.

The medical facilities, storage, laboratories, and sample archives were solid walls of rock.

The engine room was now a gaping hole staring at a scarred landscape.

Their landing had carved grooves into the terrain.

Odd-shaped trees in orange and green were on fire. She frowned at Oz’s blatant lie.

She raised her hand to point at the destruction, but the sight of her mother standing in the fractured metal hole caught her attention. Mudya gazed out at what lay beyond—a waterfall cascading off a plateaued mountain and into a tranquil lake with a multi-colored forest off its shore.

When she glanced at Ziamee, her face was pale. “I have set off the beacon.”

“Good.” Padya drew Mudya against his body. “We’re alive. That’s a start.”

“True.” Mudya’s lips twitched as she fought tears. “Not a bad place to crash.” She lifted her chin to the ceiling where one light flickered, and a few cables dangled from a gaping cavity. “Where are we, Oz?”

“Vora. The archives are limited regarding this planet’s environment.”

“But you knew it’s habitable?” Mudya asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s take stock of what survived.” Padya rubbed his palms together.

Mudya tutted. “This isn’t another adventure, Amet,” she said though a smile forced its way past her pursed lips.

“Life is.” Padya pressed a kiss to her temple before bounding off.

They left Ziamee at the jagged edge. She drew in a breath of fresh air tainted with organic and burnt smells. The sky was a too-bright turquoise, and two faded moons hung low on the horizon. The hotter temperature made her shiver with relish.

They were alone. Stranded, but hopefully not for long.

She stepped over strips of mangled metal, around burning bushes in a deep purple, and hiked the fresh-turned hill. When she reached the top, the sunlight having warmed her even as a breeze cooled her, she spun on the spot.

Below, parts of their ship Haile littered the area. The engines lay on opposite sides—the right having hit the ground first since it was the farthest away. Gleaming chunks of silver marked where the rest of the ship had torn off and tumbled to a standstill.

Black great-winged birds drifted high while tinier colorful birds darted over her, lower and more energetic.

Sounds came to life: chirping insects, bird calls, the gentle lapping of the lake’s waves, and in the distance, the muted roar of a waterfall.

Orange-capped mushrooms meters tall competed against fat, flat-topped trees with dark-green bark.

“And?” Padya asked, climbing the ridge to reach Ziamee.

She forced a smile, hoping to mimic her mother’s tone. “Could be worse.”