Broken Read online

  Broken shook her head. "Dead."

  Janeane bowed her head. "May he find the sea." She gazed steadily at Monica. "I’m glad you left. I hoped that at least one of you would. Oh, foolish rhin… They always thought they’d be safe. I’m glad you’re alive, honey." She kissed Monica’s forehead.

  Broken watched, transfixed, as the agony and grief ebbed away from Monica’s face, to be replaced by the purest calm. Janeane caught her eye, and smiled a gentle, secret smile.

  "Thank you," said Monica, stepping back. She stood taller, no longer hunched in on herself, and seemed a dozen years younger than she had a moment before.

  "And you," Janeane said, turning to Broken. "You’ve changed, too. I can see it."

  Broken smiled and nodded, ever so slightly.

  "What did you find?"

  "Penny," she said softly. "It’s my name. I remembered." She looked at the ground. "I think I found other things, too, but I also lost so much…"

  "I know," said Janeane. "I’m proud of both of you. The child… he looks the same. But he, too, is changed. As are we all, from day to day. Well. That ship is leaving." She gave them each a sheet of paper. "Around here, what I say goes. For now, anyway. Show that to the clerk. She’ll let you on."

  "Will you come with us?" Monica asked.

  "I can’t. Not yet. But someday, I will. I promise you."

  "When?"

  Janeane smiled her secret little smile. "Keep an eye out for me," she said, voice warm and filled with rich promise. "By the sea."

  [CHAPTER 29]

  It worked just as Janeane had said. They got to the head of the line again, and showed the irritable clerk the piece of paper. Reading it, she smiled graciously and issued them boarding passes, instructing them to run to make the ship; they got to the ship just as boarding was ending.

  They found berths easily—ships to the lesser colonies never filled up—and crowded next to the window to watch as the cavernous vessel strained and groaned, slowly lifting itself off the oceans of concrete that encased the Delmarva Peninsula, and thrusting up into the night sky. Monica held Ian tightly, and sat pressed back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut. Broken watched as the concrete receded, then was surrounded by water. The continent gradually revealed itself as they strove ever higher. Soon the curve of the Earth was visible, and, as the starship picked up speed, the blue-green sphere of the planet gradually fell away.

  They left New York and the ruins of Union Tower behind. They left Yonkers and the remains of Monica’s family’s house. They left New Jersey and the whole of shattered, forgotten America, too.

  Michael was down there. Had he been moved? Would they bury him? Or would he remain in that control room, eternal witness to his triumph, forever? It didn’t matter to him, not anymore.

  Had he seen it? Had he known what was coming? Probably, Broken reasoned. And what did that say?

  Sky Ranger was still there. Broken ached for the man she’d lost, then so recently discovered anew. He would stay until he succeeded or died. He would almost certainly not succeed.

  The ship groaned again, and Broken and Monica clutched Ian as they shuddered and sped off into hyperspace. The universe seemed to shift—and then nothing at all was visible out of the porthole. Earth was behind them; the colony world of Valen ahead.

  * * *

  The trip took more than two months. Broken and Monica spent the first few days locked in their tiny cabin, but soon, out of sheer boredom, they ventured out into the common areas of the ship.

  On the fifth day, they sat in a vast, curving lounge, away from the other passengers. Ian slept fitfully in Monica’s arms. She hadn’t let him out of her sight since they took off. From time to time, she broke the silence by singing nonsense songs to him. He didn’t seem to like them, and cried sometimes when she started to sing and bounce him awkwardly.

  "Michael was so good with him," Monica said. "How did he do that?"

  Michael hadn’t been good with Ian at all, Broken reflected. But there was no way to say that to Monica, whose face had lit up into a smile for the first time since Australia.

  "Michael would have been a great father, don’t you think?" She sighed wistfully. "He really would have been."

  Broken turned away. She couldn’t bring herself to think about Michael any longer. Ian gurgled in his sleep.

  * * *

  Doc administered the shot quickly, gracefully, and painlessly. "There. No problem. And we got it done before you had a chance to heal around it! Not an easy task, Silly-girl." His old nickname for her.

  Silverwing rubbed her arm absently, watching the wound close up. "How long is this good for?"

  "A year. You get another next June."

  "Does everyone get one?"

  Doc nodded. "Everyone in the Tower, from when you turn eleven. Just to be on the safe side. Didn’t they tell you about this in Health Studies?"

  Sil shrugged. "Maybe."

  "It’s to keep you from having a baby. You know how babies are made, right?"

  She nodded soberly. There had been a video on the subject.

  "All right, then."

  "What if I want to have a baby?" Silverwing asked. She hadn’t ever really considered having one, but maybe someday she would.

  Doc shook his head. "You can’t. That’s the law. We aren’t allowed."

  "Oh," Sil said. Her face fell. "Why?"

  "Because," Doc said. "How’s that arm doing?"

  "Fine," she said.

  "Okay. I have other people to see, so get a move on. I’ll see you next week for a checkup, right?"

  She nodded.

  "All right, then. Off you go."

  * * *

  Sky Ranger would have been a horrible father, she realized. Broken sneaked a look at Ian, who had fallen back to sleep after an hour of nonstop wailing. She probably wouldn’t have been a great mother, either. But, as with so many things in her life, it would have been nice to have had the choice.

  Michael, whose life seemed to run on rails, hadn’t really had choices, either. Or had he? He must have known what was going to happen to him, right? She didn’t say this to Monica, but kept it to herself, guarding it like a jewel, holding it close to her heart.

  He knew. He knew all his possibilities ended in a dark room with a man and a gun. But he went to Australia anyway.

  * * *

  Monica and Broken spoke little of the past, but more of their hopes for the future.

  "Valen will have fewer Black Bands," Monica said. "Don’t you think? I heard some of the other passengers talking about that."

  "Maybe," Broken said thoughtfully. "It would be nice."

  "We can live there without being afraid. That’s why a lot of people are on this trip. To get away."

  "Mm," Broken murmured, smiling. "What do you want to do once you’re there?"

  "I... don't know. Maybe go back to school? There are colleges on Valen, right?"

  "I have no idea."

  * * *

  Monica had heard of the Blues, a religious group who followed the wisdom of the prophet Valentino Altrera. He was the one for whom Valen had been named.

  "I followed one prophet, I can follow another," Monica announced. "I want to at least go to the Great Temple in Arve."

  Broken agreed to this. Arve was Valen’s capital and only major city. They would land near there. Other than that, they were coming to realize they knew next to nothing about their destination

  "I’ve also heard they help people who need it," Monica said quietly. "Maybe they can help us, too."

  Both of them looked at Ian, snoozing in Monica’s arms. They still hadn’t talked about what they were going to do with him once they arrived.

  The future seemed much wilder and more unknowable than ever. Not for the first time, Broken wished she had Michael back, so he could explain it to her.

  * * *

  Ian grew a little bigger, and started crawling aggressively all over the ship. The other passengers got used to the sight of him, scootin
g along happily while either Monica or Broken chased him.

  * * *

  One day, Broken stopped Monica as she was going to take a shower.

  "Monica," she said. "I want to be Penny from now on. Okay?"

  Monica smiled. "Of course. Penny. I like that name. It’s very pretty."

  Penny nodded thoughtfully. "It doesn’t suit me. But it’s mine."

  * * *

  They saw Valen for the first time as a small blue globe hanging tantalizingly in front of the forward viewport. Passengers yelled and cheered. Valen was like a blue beacon of freedom for all of them. Here, the heavy hand of Peltan’s Confederation would not be so keenly felt—at least not for a little while, yet. Penny didn’t need to see the future to know that it wouldn’t last.

  But for now, they were safe.

  [CHAPTER 30]

  The starship, to their surprise, did not land. Instead, they docked at an orbital station, where shuttles waited patiently to take them to Arve. It was explained that no one on Valen wanted to create a concrete sea like Delmarva. Penny and Monica, gazing on the pristine blue-white beauty of the planet below, had to agree.

  A cheerful, talkative man ferried them down to the surface in his four-seater. On the way, he told them about his home in the hills outside Arve, and how glad he was he had come from Ohio to here.

  "No comparison," he said several times. "No way. This place is great. Some weird people, religious stuff, but mostly people leave each other be. You’ll see. It's great!"

  They landed at a small spaceport outside the city. When Penny first stepped out of the spacecraft and onto Valen’s surface, she was surprised at how light she felt. The gravity here was a little less than Earth’s. She breathed in. The air smelled sweet, fresh. The sky was a somewhat different shade of blue, though. She’d have to get used to that.

  Arve was a motley collection of temporary-looking prefabricated structures mixed in with the occasional more permanent stone or brick building. The streets were laid out in an orderly grid, although many of the blocks were still entirely empty. The city was new and bright, and people seemed happy and optimistic wherever they went. Every once in a while, they encountered men and women dressed entirely in blue walking the streets, talking to people. The Blues, Penny guessed; the followers of Val Altrera.

  They walked into the city, taking turns carrying Ian. They saw no Confederation military or Black Bands anywhere. They learned later that while some on Valen supported Peltan, the Reformist militia didn’t exist here. The Valenane thought them bizarre.

  They made their way to a large temple in the western quarter of Arve, and knocked on a door set apart from the main entrance, without knowing why. An old man dressed in a blue robe opened it.

  His face lit up when he saw Ian. "Well, little man!" he said. "Well!" He noticed Penny and Monica. "What can I do for you two?"

  "We—" Penny began, but Monica cut her off.

  "Sanctuary," she said. "Please."

  The man nodded. "You are welcome. Just come from Earth?"

  * * *

  The keepers of the Blue Order, the ones who followed Val Altrera, took them in, as Monica had hoped. Many other immigrants had come to West Arve Temple, as well. The monks here took their duties seriously, and helped as many as they could.

  As time passed, they started seeing Black Bands and Reformist signs in the streets, sometimes, but still far, far fewer than at home. Here on Valen, Earth and its politics were very distant.

  Life at the temple took on a peaceful rhythm. They awoke with the men and woman of the Order at dawn, said a quick morning prayer of thanks and asked for strength and wisdom to complete the day’s tasks. Then Penny and Monica helped do chores like watering and ridding the gardens of the—strange purplish weeds that threatened the delicate Earth transplants— sweeping the wood and stone floors, and tending to the sick, infirm, and elderly refugees who stayed in the massive temple complex. Then lunch, and other chores or, if there was nothing else to do, time to explore what there was of the city.

  Penny found that she liked evenings best, though, when the entire temple community gathered to sing, chat, and pray. It was peaceful, and the monks made a point of making everyone gathered there feel welcome. Even though Penny didn’t necessarily believe in all of the words the monks said, she still felt, for the first time in a long time, that she belonged somewhere.

  Monica seemed to feel the same. She started to follow the monks around, and began to learn all that they could teach her. Her hair had faded from the dyed black it had been, and was now a serene, deep brown. Her green eyes were still sad and heavy, but now there was a calmness Penny hadn't expected. These days, every once in a while, she even cracked that old, crooked smile of hers.

  Dumont, the old man who had first opened the door for them, an assistant to the prelate, commented to Penny that at the rate she was going, Monica might soon "take the Blue." That seemed to happen to a certain slice of the refugees, he told her. Something about the peace and stability of temple life appealed to them. He gave Penny a meaningful look as he said it, but she deflected him with a smile.

  Then, one day, a package arrived at the temple.

  "Excuse me," said a young novice, coming up to some of the immigrants while they were doing their chores. "But are any of you named ‘Silver Wing,’ by any chance?” Penny hesitantly raised a hand. “Something's come for you from Earth."

  * * *

  Monica had been out all week, walking the local routes with one of the itinerant monks to see what the life of a Blue was like. Penny took the sheaf of paper that had come in a disarmingly normal ConFedPost box and read it hungrily—then wished she hadn't.

  She took herself to a nearby café, where she bought a hot chocolate with the money she’d earned by washing the clothes of other immigrants —she thought about a drink, but she hadn’t had one in ages and she didn’t want to start again..

  She read over the first page again.

  So quick and simple. How very Sky Ranger. She sighed and flipped through the documents again.

  Records, detailing every occupant the Tower had ever held. Plans to the building. Government progress reports. Scientific data, theories about why and how Extrahumans existed. And, worst, a military document from twenty years before, cataloging all the ways that Union Tower could be destroyed in the event of an “emergency.” Penny shook her head sadly, but she wasn’t surprised.

  The government was different now, but in one respect UNP and Reform were the same: They both wanted to destroy what lived in Union Tower. The Extrahumans were, as the papers noted time and again, a threat. The old government had held them prisoner, kept them from having children, and sent their best and strongest out to capture those Extrahumans who had dared to live free. The new government had been much more direct, but they shared the same objective: the end of the Extrahuman race.

  She kept remembering Sky Ranger’s face as the reality of Union Tower’s destruction sank in. My people, he had said. At that moment, she had realized it was true. Her people, unique in the universe. People like Michael, Sky Ranger, Crimson Cadet, Lucky Jane... Her people... who were now gone. So many, gone.

  There was a rustle of robes. She looked up to find a short, severe-looking woman with a downturned mouth approaching.

  "Prelate!" she exclaimed, surprised. The seldom-seen prelate of the temple, a woman named Celeste, smiled thinly down at her.

  "May I sit?" she asked. She nodded, and the woman slid into a chair. "Oooh, my poor back."

  For an instant, Penny considered hiding the papers, then thought better of it. "Prelate," she said softly, handing them to her. "Please... take these. Can you keep them safe?"

  She nodded. "I can. Are they important?"

  "Yes," she said, looking down. "They’re a record. Of my people."

  "Extrahumans?" the prelate asked softly. Penny glanced up sharply. "Come,” the woman said. “I saw you cut your finger in the garden, and have it heal a moment later. You must be one of the o
nly ones left. I’m very sorry."

  Penny shrugged. What was there to say?

  "I will take them, if you want. We have an archive at Clearfield. Would you like a copy for yourself?"

  "I would," she said. "Thank you."

  She ordered a tea. "Your friend Monica is becoming well versed in the lessons St. Val taught us," the prelate said. "She seems much more content, now. However, she still doesn’t like talking about her past."

  "It was—hard," Penny replied.

  "I know," she said. "I can tell from your faces. But the child…? That is what concerns me most."

  "I don’t know," Penny said. "I… I don’t think I can keep him. He’s supposed to go to someone else."

  "Oh?" The normally sober and reserved prelate suddenly seemed like a child with a great secret, bouncy and bursting.

  "He’s… important," Penny said. "Really. Or, at least, someone I once knew thought so. But he thought a lot of things that didn’t turn out to be true."

  "Such as?"

  She sighed bitterly. "He said I would fly again."

  Prelate Celeste’s eyes lit up. "I knew it," she said to herself. "Damn St. Val for being so vague! Here, take this!" She withdrew an envelope from the folds of her robes. "We’ve been waiting a long time for you! Yes, we knew you’d come, the woman who could heal herself in an instant, but had forgotten how to fly, with the child. It’s the first step down a long path. We had hoped—but here." She pressed the paper into Penny’s waiting hand.

  "What—?"

  "Valentino Altrera, who founded our order, was like your friend," the prelate said. "He could see the future, too. He knew the possibilities. He knew you’d come! He knew what to do, and before he died, he told me to give you these instructions."

  Penny's skin prickled.

  "Now go get that boy," Celeste ordered archly, "And take him to where he is supposed to be!"

  Penny jumped up and sprinted out of the café.