Echo Page 13

  “Maybe he’ll come out once Michael is gone,” Hawk said. “I should stay… for him. He tends to show up whenever I get lost. I’m sure he could use a friend.”

  “I agree,” Corin said. “So far, there’s no danger to us. The Captain can’t force us through the gate.”

  “I can force you,” Saskia said, raising one eyebrow. Hawk didn’t think she’d make good on the threat, but she agreed with the Captain that having fewer people in the city was safer.

  Danny turned down the street, escorting Morrigan and Michael to the gate. Michael was wrapped in a blanket, his movements slow and stiff. Corin’s jaw dropped, and his hand flapped in the air until it landed on Hawk’s shoulder.

  “Amar,” Corin gasped.

  “Who’s Amar?” Saskia asked, jumping to her feet as well, keeping a steadying hand on Amanda.

  “My… brother,” Corin stammered. He shook his head, like he was trying to clear his vision. “That’s Michael?”

  “You’ve met him before,” Hawk said, eying the young, blond man, hoping to catch a hint of a spirit glow.

  “Right. When I was delirious from pain,” Corin said. “I thought it was a memory. Before I left Nola, Amar came to visit me in the hospital there.”

  “Did Amar have a twin, or a younger brother?” Saskia asked, coming beside Corin, keeping her voice low.

  “With Festival anything is possible,” Corin shrugged. Then his brow furrowed. “Morrigan said he couldn’t hear. Amar was born deaf, too. He got implants before I was born.”

  “So, he’s your older brother?” Saskia asked.

  “He’s almost thirty,” Corin said. “Married with two kids. There’s no way this could be him, but they look the same.”

  “Michael is twenty-one. He grew up here,” Hawk said.

  “Did your people ever sell DNA to the Cordovans?” Saskia asked. “I don’t think we have a gene sequencer in the medical bay, but maybe Morrigan knows a way we can test. See if you two have a common ancestor. Your grandmother was a spirit-carrier. They live for a very long time.”

  “My mom’s mother was Questre. Amar is a half-brother on my dad’s side,” Corin said. “He’s not special.”

  “Are you sure? It may be time to send a message to Nola,” Hawk said, squeezing Corin’s hand.

  “I guess I’m going back to the ship,” Corin said.

  Relief washed over Danny when he landed the Bobsled safely in Oriana’s bay. He was far too wound up when trapped in the city, but he felt bad leaving Amanda behind. Even with Michael sobbing in the backseat of the ‘sled, Danny was happier flying home.

  “I want to document his injuries. Danny, just the signs of abuse you can see with your own eyes should be enough to warrant taking him under our protection,” Morrigan gushed. She hugged Michael protectively, encouraging him to make sounds. He wasn’t mute like they’d been told.

  “You can report what you find to Fisher. Saskia’s investigating what happened. We play by their rules. We got lucky facing off with the Nolans. The Cordovans could smite us,” Danny said. Tommy was lonely enough as is, and Danny wasn’t about to take from him the only other man in the dome.

  “He wants to stay with me,” Morrigan said.

  “We can negotiate that once we know Amanda isn’t vulnerable anymore,” Danny said, popping open the hatch and standing so he could look back at his passengers. Michael was pale and sweating, his eyes getting glassy, like Amanda looked after a fit.

  Once they got Michael out of the ‘sled, Morrigan and Corin took him to the infirmary.

  “Hi, honey. You’re home,” Chase greeted. His hand came up to pinch Danny’s cheek, and Danny’s vision went red. A moment later, Chase was holding him, rocking side-to-side whispering, “It’s all right. You’re all right.” Chase had seen Danny through some pretty bad PTSD episodes back in the day.

  “Picking up more strays?” Chase asked when he sensed that Danny had calmed.

  “Like old times,” Danny said, backing out of the embrace.

  Danny went to the ward room next. Tray sat at the console, one knee peaked, his foot tapping the floor just enough to swivel the chair back and forth. Danny came behind the chair and hugged his brother across the shoulders.

  “Get off me!” Tray griped, twisting the chair harder. Danny backed off, but Tray took one look at him and opened his arms again. “Fine. I’ll give you a hug.”

  Danny tried not to squeeze too hard.

  “Any news on Hero?” he asked. It was hard to believe only a day had passed since Tray got that call from Hero.

  “Demissie says there’s no need to hurry home. Sikorsky wants to set up an operation in Boone and mine the resources.”

  “The resources that got flipped to another realm?” Danny asked.

  “Yeah, those,” Tray said. Boone had been littered with bones before it caught fire.

  “The land in the city can’t be farmed, and the locals seem pretty protective of their food supply,” Danny said.

  “I don’t know the details. But he offered to send Mikayla, and that’s what Hero was freaking out about.”

  “And Dem told you this? Mikayla couldn’t bother to call?” Danny asked.

  “He also recorded a message for Morrigan,” Tray said. “I wish I knew why my ex-wife still hated me so much. She has to know that I’m not like Mom. I wouldn’t hurt Hero to steal his hybrid power. Are you done?”

  The last question was aimed at Danny. He’d lingered in the hug too long, but he wasn’t ready to let go. “Remember when we first reconnected, and my arm was broken, and I lived in a hole in the ground…”

  “Okay. That sounds like a vote for going home,” Tray said, pushing Danny toward the chair.

  “I’m not going to another counselor,” Danny groused.

  “You need one. And not an electronic one,” Tray said. Frustrated, Danny stalked for the door, but Tray grabbed his shirt, gently guiding him back to the chair. “Tell me about Michael.”

  Danny sighed, but Tray waited patiently. “Best guess is he’s an echo, like Amanda. But there’s no one in Cordova to echo. The two of them had some kind of telepathic interlude when they met. Only lasted a few seconds. His mom loves him, but everyone else treats him like nothing. He’s deaf and mute. And Morrigan is… I don’t know that smitten is the right word. I think she’s just concerned. Like me when I find a new stray.”

  His cheeks got red at the last comment, and he wasn’t sure why.

  “How’d you get Corin to come back without Hawk?” Tray asked, pulling the second chair in the room around the track so he could face Danny.

  “Corin thinks he and Michael might be related,” Danny said, scratching his head. They hadn’t really delved into the topic before the gate was open, and they’d been so focused on keeping Michael calm, it hadn’t come up again. “Maybe some kind of Nolan DNA trade. He’s working up the nerve to send a message, I think. Or maybe he’s working on an excuse not to.”

  “I do record everything they broadcast,” Tray said. “I figured one day he might want to hear a familiar song. They send a data-burst every night. I’m sure they’d love to get one back.”

  “You seem awfully sympathetic to the people who put me in a cage,” Danny commented, tuning his Feather to the console and calling up one of the Nolan recordings. They hadn’t spent much time there and he was curious.

  “Well, it kind of hurts when you lose contact with your son,” Tray said, fighting to keep his voice smooth. He missed Hero, and he sympathized with Corin’s parents.

  “You haven’t lost contact with your kid, Tray,” Danny said.

  Tray shook his head. “If Hero was going to send a message today, I would have gotten it by now. What if he resents me for not believing him about Sikorsky? What if I become like the Nolan Magistrates, broadcasting signals to him every day only to be met by silence.”

  “Or what if there’s something wrong with the comm?” Danny asked, pulling his Feather out and putting it back in. “This recording of today’s N
olan broadcast is static. Nolwazi, analyze Nolan broadcast recording. What was the last time stamp for music received?”

  The ship’s computer worked for less than a second, then began playing a piece of music. The choppy melody lasted about five seconds, then it switched to static. Then the song came back. “Intermittent reception identified at 1400 hours. All broadcasts ceased at 1706.”

  That was odd. The first time stamp didn’t mean much to him, but the second was about the time he’d gotten the call from Morrigan.

  “Nolwazi, send a ping to Terrana,” Tray said, his body going rigid.

  “Terrana is not visible in the sky,” Nolwazi replied.

  “Yes, yes, it is.” Tray climbed up the ladder to the Observation Deck, staying perched as he craned his neck to view the sky from all angles. “Danny, what does it look like when you’re in the Cordovan shield?”

  Danny pushed Tray further up the ladder so he could see. He tried to remember if he saw the rain when he was standing on the deck outside the city. He knew he didn’t hear it. This still looked and sounded like normal rain. So why had they lost communication with the world?

  19

  Corin stared in disbelief at the young man lying on the infirmary bed. He’d expected Michael’s resemblance to Amar to dissipate on closer inspection, but the feeling just increased. Was it possible that Amar had a full brother?

  Michael had unevenly chopped, shoulder-length hair that curled at his ears and clung to his neck. He seemed to have a natural bulk that Tommy did not. Corin would have thought Michael a laborer, but the man could barely walk and had expended all his energy getting through the gate. By the time they reached Oriana, the only thing keeping him going was fear.

  “You’re a patient here. We’re going to treat you,” Morrigan assured, enunciating the Trade words as clearly as she could so Michael could read her lips. Michael’s mouth moved in reply, but they didn’t understand him. Like righteous idiots with a savior complex, they’d taken him from the only people who could communicate with him.

  “I put your ear back on. Let me heal the rest,” Morrigan said. She had a stool pulled up next to the bed but seemed too enraptured to treat him. Making a decision, Corin loaded a jet and injected Michael with Morrigan’s custom pain-killing cocktail. He hoped Michael was the kind who got mellow when high, but Michael went limp and closed his eyes. Morrigan jumped off the stool and stumbled back until she collided with the counter.

  “I used the cocktail. We just Detox him if he can’t handle it, right?” Corin asked, worried he’d killed their new patient.

  Morrigan clutched her head and her cheeks reddened.

  “What’s wrong?” Corin asked, touching her arm, worried she was going to faint.

  “I… Nothing. Brain fog moment. I forgot where…” She took long, slow breaths, keeping her eyes closed and one hand on the counter for support. “Side effect of overusing Detox with my cocktail.”

  “You didn’t mention that before,” Corin said worriedly. He tried to remember if he’d had any dizzy spells since he’d taken the cocktail.

  “It’s one of those things you conveniently forget when you’re in pain,” Morrigan said, shaking off the feeling and going back to the bed. “What did you give him?”

  “The painkilling cocktail. Is that a problem?”

  “I don’t think so,” Morrigan said, finishing the scanner setup and getting some vitals projected. Michael’s heart rate and breathing were steady. “He’s asleep. I guess the pain exhausted him, and as soon as it was gone, he just…”

  “Can we get a blood sample? Compare his DNA to mine?” Corin asked, biting his lip.

  “I can compare blood types, but no, I don’t have the tools to tell if he’s your brother,” Morrigan said. “We could ask Fisher to run the comparison.”

  Corin nodded, but this wasn’t the kind of question he wanted to bring up. The political ramifications of such an assertion could bring conflict to the domes. He needed to get this answer quietly.

  “What will you do if he is? Take him to Nola?” Morrigan asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Fair point,” Corin said, the knot in his stomach growing. Then he saw the projection on the wall, with red dots popping up everywhere alerting them to Michael’s injuries. Morrigan’s jaw dropped as she moved the scanner around, zooming in on his lower back, then his heart.

  “His injuries are worse than I thought. I can’t fix all this,” Morrigan said, her voice strained. “I think Amanda was right. I think he has died before.”

  The mud nearly swallowed Danny’s boot, sucking it off his foot as it sank. He managed to twist free and hop away, right into another puddle. Chase laughed at him and pulled him onto the narrow but dry path of tree roots. They’d left the ship to see how far the interference extended, but even with a booster, they couldn’t pick up a signal from the outside world.

  “I get the sense that someone doesn’t want Corin to send a message to Nola,” Danny said.

  “I get the sense that person is Corin,” Chase replied. “You really think we’re being jammed by the Cordovans?”

  “Do you have a better explanation?” Danny leaned against the tree trunk and glanced down at his Virp again. Oriana was still visible through the trees, but the ship’s position on the mapping program seemed to jump.

  “Why do I feel like a lab experiment?” Danny said, deciding to get back to Oriana before the Cordovans made it invisible.

  “They let us in and out without a fight. They let Michael come here, and Ian and Fisher before. They’ve healed Corin—that kid looks amazing. My hand is working again,” Chase pointed out, following Danny without question. “Danny, this is the City of Hope. Maybe they’re being cautious so they don’t get overwhelmed by the sick and injured. That’s why Quin masks itself.”

  The argument was logical, but it presented a problem when Cordova decided to lay claim to and cloak his own ship from him.

  “It is pretty amazing in there,” Danny agreed. “That girl, Lula, is innovative. She has her own machine printer, and Hawk’s helping her design a model airplane engine.”

  “Sounds fun,” Chase said. They had machine printers in Quin, and Chase wasn’t as impressed by the technology as Hawk was. Chase would have liked Lula, but Danny knew he wasn’t excited to visit a city with closed borders.

  “They have so many books about the history of the world, but nothing about the lunar colonies,” Danny continued. “Do you think it’s possible there never was an attack from Caldori? That we caused our own apocalypse?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do believe Aquians are that stupid and territorial,” Chase said. Danny chuckled at his cynical analysis.

  “They have sculptures of half-breeds, just like in the Quin temples,” Danny said. “And yet, they’re so different from us.”

  “Well, you send all the people to their corners, and they work with that they’ve got.”

  “What if we destroyed our own world to rid it of half-breeds?” Danny wondered.

  “Then we most definitely failed.”

  Danny laughed again. Chase wasn’t an academic or a philosopher, and his running commentary on Danny’s musings lifted Danny’s spirits. He hoped Amanda was doing okay, but the fact that he didn’t have to wait outside the lab door, listen to her screams, and pick up the pieces at the end of the night helped. Out here, he was frustrated by the communication issue, but he and Chase could figure out a way around it. They could always fly out of range.

  Stepping back onto the ship, Danny took off his heavy rain boots and coat, and stripped out of his soggy shirt. Suddenly his Virp started beeping. A dozen missed messages from Tray came in all at once.

  “Tray, what’s the emergency?” Danny asked, charging up the stairs. When he got to the galley, Corin and Tray were sitting at the table with a pile of clothes stacked in front of them. Corin was mending, and Tray was fiddling with a few garments, watching but not helping.

  “This doesn’t look like an emergency,” Danny said.

&
nbsp; “Cordova called. They want Michael back,” Tray said.

  “Can’t take him back,” Corin muttered. His jaw clenched and he raked his hands over his freshly healed ribs. “If they can heal me in a few hours, then they can heal him. They have chosen to let him suffer. It’s… unconscionable. However beat up I was when we left Nola, he’s ten times worse!”

  Tray handed Corin a vest, and Corin snatched it and started mending.

  “Danny, check this out,” Tray said, holding up a pencil-like device. “It’s like a knitter but for clothes, not skin. But fibers don’t grow like living tissue. How does it even work? Look at this glove!”

  He showed Danny a gold glove that looked new. Danny reached for the glove, but Tray snatched it back.

  “Don’t touch it. Your hands are muddy,” Tray said.

  “I would have toweled off if you hadn’t made it seem like such an emergency,” Danny said. “What did you tell them?”

  “I told them he is here with his mother’s permission and we are rendering medical care,” Tray said. “Don’t know if that was the right answer. Don’t even know if they heard me. They didn’t say anything after the first message.”

  “Chances are they’re the reason we can’t talk to Nola. It looks like the signal’s being scrambled, not jammed, but the effect is the same,” Danny said. “Maybe someone is worried we’ll tell Nola about Michael.”

  “That is what we were planning,” Tray said.

  “Don’t want to talk to Nola. Can’t,” Corin muttered, jabbing at the torn shirt he was working on. “That place is nothing but pain. I can’t send Michael there. I can’t paint roses on the place that nearly killed me.”

  Danny glanced at Tray, whose look said they’d already had that conversation. The mending party was Tray’s effort at providing stress relief.

  “So, we can’t send a message to Quin today either,” Tray said glumly, moving to the galley to deal with his disappointment.