Alien: Seventh Circle E-Book

Philippa Ballantine

• Herausgeber: Titan Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Seitenzahl: 455

Beschreibung

As human colonies are obliterated by the dark pathogen and hideous monstrosities proliferate, a family of scavengers find an amnesiac who may hold the secrets to the forces tearing apart the galaxy. Life amongst the stars is brutal. Human colonies are being obliterated by a dark pathogen launched from mysterious ships, which turns whole populations into hordes of ravenous monsters. And no one knows what happened to the Jackals, the cadre of soldiers hunting down the perpetrators of these atrocities. When a family of scavengers recover the amnesiac Mae Hendricks amongst the wreckage of an unidentified ship, they bring a world of pain down on themselves and the civilians of Guelph Station. Mae doesn't know where she is from or her true nature, nor that she is being hunted by vicious adversaries. Mae's past could reveal the conspiracy that is tearing the galaxy apart, but may well unleash a tide of snarling terrors...

Leseprobe

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

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Copyright

1:In The Maze of Minos

2:Seeking a Star

3:An Interesting Catch

4:Forgotten Dark

5:A Predator Turns

6:A Dark Arrival

7:The Lost Return

8:From The Outside Corners

9:Into The Labyrinth

10:No Resistance

11:Into The Company Belly

12:The Joys of Home

13:Outside The Box

14:Red, Green, Blue

15:A Gentle Soul

16:The Greenest Silence

17:Science Breach

18:A Bright Hope

19:Planetfall

20:An Unkind Harvest

21:A Kindness Returned

22:Unforeseen Allies

23:Save Who You Can

24:Breaking Free

25:Company-Issued Nightmare

26:Blood of All Kinds

27:The Blue and The Red

28:Complete Yet Broken

29:Careful What You Wish For

30:Return to Knossos

31:Helpful Mr. Brown

32:Half a Friend

33:Labyrinth’s End

34:Losing a Daughter

35:Lost and Found

Acknowledgements

About the Authors

THE COMPLETE ALIEN™ LIBRARY FROM TITAN BOOKS

The Official Movie Novelizations

by Alan Dean Foster

Alien, Aliens™, Alien 3, Alien: Covenant,Alien: Covenant Origins

Alien: Resurrection by A.C. Crispin

Alien 3: The Unproduced Screenplayby William Gibson & Pat Cadigan

Alien

Out of the Shadows by Tim Lebbon

Sea of Sorrows by James A. Moore

River of Pain by Christopher Golden

The Cold Forge by Alex White

Isolation by Keith R.A. DeCandido

Prototype by Tim Waggoner

Into Charybdis by Alex White

Colony War by David Barnett

Inferno’s Fall by Philippa Ballantine

Enemy of My Enemy by Mary SanGiovanni

Uncivil War by Brendan Deneen

Seventh Circle by Philippa Ballantine

The Rage War

by Tim Lebbon

Predator™: Incursion, Alien: Invasion

Alien vs. Predator™: Armageddon

Aliens

Bug Hunt edited by Jonathan Maberry

Phalanx by Scott Sigler

Infiltrator by Weston Ochse

Vasquez by V. Castro

Bishop by T.R. Napper

The Complete Aliens Omnibus

Volumes 1–7

Aliens vs. Predators

Ultimate Prey edited by Jonathan Maberry & Bryan Thomas Schmidt

Rift War by Weston Ochse & Yvonne Navarro

The Complete Aliens vs. Predator Omnibus by Steve Perry & S.D. Perry

Predator

If It Bleeds edited by Bryan Thomas Schmidt

The Predator by Christopher Golden & Mark Morris

The Predator: Hunters and Hunted by James A. Moore

Stalking Shadows by James A. Moore & Mark Morris

Eyes of the Demon edited by Bryan Thomas Schmidt

The Complete Predator Omnibusby Nathan Archer & Sandy Scofield

Non-Fiction

AVP: Alien vs. Predatorby Alec Gillis & Tom Woodruff, Jr.

Aliens vs. Predator Requiem: Inside The Monster Shop by Alec Gillis & Tom Woodruff, Jr.

Alien: The Illustrated Story by Archie Goodwin & Walter Simonson

The Art of Alien: Isolation by Andy McVittie

Alien: The Archive

Alien: The Weyland-Yutani Report by S.D. Perry

Aliens: The Set Photography by Simon Ward

Alien: The Coloring Book

The Art and Making of Alien: Covenant by Simon Ward

Alien Covenant: David’s Drawings by Dane Hallett & Matt Hatton

The Predator: The Art and Making of the Film by James Nolan

The Making of Alien by J.W. Rinzler

Alien: The Blueprints by Graham Langridge

Alien: 40 Years 40 Artists

Alien: The Official Cookbook by Chris-Rachael Oseland

Aliens: Artbook by Printed In Blood

A NOVEL BY

PHILIPPA BALLANTINE

STORY BY

PHILIPPA BALLANTINEANDCLARA ČARIJA

TITANBOOKS

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ALIEN™: SEVENTH CIRCLE

Print edition ISBN: 9781803366975

E-book edition ISBN: 9781803366982

Published by Titan Books

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First edition: January 2025

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1

IN THE MAZE OF MINOS

They were being hunted. Two artificial people trapped in a world of human pain and terror. It shouldn’t have been like this.

Mae sat, staring at her silhouette as it cast shadows in crimson light, while she contemplated the end.

Was this what Father went through?

Knees folded tightly into her chest, she stared at the communication panel in front of her. It blinked a few times before going out.

Rook touched her shoulder. “This won’t help. We have to move—right now.”

The pulsing red light cast the pilot of the Blackstar’s sharp, angular face in strange shadows. It bounced off the myriad of ragged scars in his synthetic skin and the slightly twisted jaw that he’d attempted to repair himself. Like her, he wore a human face, though his was considerably more battered. Mae’s face was unique, while his was repeated all over the middle heavens. Bishop models were prized in technical fields, but today he was performing an even more valuable role: helping her save the Jackals.

Mae feared the next message she waited for wouldn’t come. That was awful, but logical—yet she found herself rooted to the spot. The klaxon blared, filling the corridor with relentless noise and flashes of scarlet light to show time was running out. Not much of it remained.

“Attention. Emergency. All personnel must evacuate immediately. Get to your nearest escape pod. You now have ten minutes to lockdown protocol.” The soothing voice was that of a calm, collected woman, not one trapped in a dying space station with monstrosities in every shadow.

Her mother, Colonel Zula Hendricks, called it the Mama Warning, or in her darker moments, the Kiss Your Ass Goodbye Warning.

Despite the screaming klaxon and the message repeated over and over, the beast still pounded on the hatch. Rook tilted his head towards it, as if to remind her again that she couldn’t keep waiting for another message that would never come. The repetitive thud of chitin hitting reinforced steel somehow made itself heard over the wailing alarm. Fear welled inside her. She would have dearly loved to hear from her father, Davis, in this moment.

He’d been there when she first woke on the Righteous Fury and provided guidance in those first days as a synthetic person. He would have said something useful now, or at least something funny.

Most of all, she wished her mother, Colonel Zula Hendricks, stood at her side, giving orders and telling her the right action to take. But that wasn’t possible. She was with Red Mae. Hopefully, that splinter persona would help Zula and her unit stay alive until Mae Prime came back with help.

That wouldn’t happen if she didn’t move right now.

Rook took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He was a strange synthetic, unhooked from human control in a way she’d never seen from another of their kind—except for herself. Sitting as still as she was, he must’ve been worried she’d picked up a corrupted subroutine. “The elevator isn’t far.”

Another bang echoed through the dark station corridor. At this sub-level, they were alone. They’d lost their unit during the chaos of their mission. One desperate message from Colonel Hendricks and Red Team was all Mae hung her hopes on. Whether they’d made it to some kind of safety, she couldn’t tell. Her mother only managed a single transmission: she and her unit were trapped while trying to make it back to the space elevator.

All the Jackals would die here in the darkest corner of the universe if Mae or Rook didn’t escape and let someone know what happened on Minos Station.

Mae wondered if Rook experienced the same swirl of emotions as her. They hadn’t found time to compare notes about their specifications, and it didn’t look like they’d have any now.

They’d lost audio contact with Red Team, but she still glanced at the personal wrist device all Jackals were equipped with. Willpower wouldn’t make green letters appear on its screen. Another pause gave the Xenomorph a chance to think, too.

The monster changed tactics, going from rhythmic banging to something more cunning. The sly scratching around the hatch was somehow even worse than the thundering attacks. This variant of Xenomorph wasn’t like anything they’d encountered on Shānmén. That was the inherent horror of the beast: it adapted to every situation by stealing the advantages of its host.

Mae checked the records from the Jackals’ database within her. While Xenomorphs—particularly queens—were observed opening doors, they’d never been recorded opening an airlock or hatch. However, they were not animals, which was the greatest peril. Complacency in the matter of Xenomorphs always led to disaster.

There is no greater danger than underestimating your opponent.

Could that be the echo of her dead father? Mae filed that away for later—if there was a later. She pushed away from the wall. “Okay, right behind you.”

Rook was the only other synthetic who knew Mae’s secret. It was comfortable to share a small network as they did. They didn’t need words, but she’d been practicing her human reactions for months. Rook’s mouth crooked in a slight smile at her strangeness, but he’d picked up a few of his own quirks, too.

Together, they bolted away from the hatch. Even if the Xenomorph didn’t open it, there were always the air ducts and other vital pipework. Xenos had a particular knack for sniffing out those claustrophobic spaces and the station artificial intelligence wouldn’t lock them down, since that would mean death to all the human residents. Given their options, though, that might’ve been a mercy.

Rook’s and Mae’s synthetic eyes didn’t operate like a flesh-and-blood human’s. The station AI had activated evacuation protocols, restricting power to emergency and running lights leading to exits. Luckily, neither of them needed any illumination to find their way down the utilitarian corridor.

As a synthetic person, Mae realized she shouldn’t feel this tired. Her efforts to become more like her mother over the last few months began to bear fruit, but right now it got in the way of survival.

They both discarded their pulse rifles long before the ammo counters clicked to ‘00’. Rook carried a pistol, and Mae clutched a bowie knife Zula had gifted her. Neither of those would be much use if a Xenomorph decided they were a threat, though. When she chose to abandon her combat droid body for one more like a human, she gave up a lot of durability. Mae was almost as fragile as a human in many respects, now.

The Bishop models were sturdier—but not built for heavy combat, either.

This way. I overheard Station Chief Rolstad mentioning an elevator for executive staff that goes directly to Minos’s command center. He seemed quite proud of it. We can get a shuttle from there.

The corridor flashed blood red occasionally as they ran through the administration section of the facility. The staff left everything behind: papers on the floor, spilled cups of coffee, and overturned chairs. Unattended lights and alarms beeped urgently.

Under evacuation protocol, every one of the codes that Mae and Rook would have used as synthetics to connect with the station computer, open doors, and find their way was disabled. They were equally as fucked as the rest of the humans on this infected space station.

Something in the shadows moved above them, a creaking in the pipes that caused Rook to stop and duck behind a desk, pulling her with him. Rook slowly lifted one finger to his lips, gesturing Mae to be silent.

Normally, a Xenomorph would not be interested in a synthetic person. They couldn’t host a growing embryo in their chests. The abominations needed flesh to grow their colony, and would only attack a synthetic if they carried a weapon or posed any other threat. However, these infected Xenomorphs acted differently to the ones in Mae’s records.

On the lower levels, she’d witnessed them rip combat synthetics apart even as they stood in their charging racks. She and Rook were in as much danger as the genetic humans on this station. Perhaps while the humans studied them, the Xenos ran their own investigation in return. They’d certainly been around synthetics every moment this experiment was in progress.

Rook’s eyes tracked the pattern of the sound reverberating off the ceiling above them. You know, I used to be called Father at one time. So let me be that now to you. I’ll go first. Stay down.

You’re not my father, Mae shot back. She wondered in what context he’d be a parent, but that story would have to wait.

His eyebrow jumped up at that. A father is someone meant to protect, and your mother entrusted you into my care. However, if you prefer, I can address you as Lieutenant.

Rook chose this moment to remind her of the rank. Mae sent the synthetic equivalent of a middle finger across their connection.

It is my duty to never harm or allow a human to be harmed. I count you among that number, as far as the colonel is concerned.

She couldn’t argue with that.

He crouched down and glanced back. His gentle green eyes locked on her. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I may be synthetic, but I’m not stupid.

Mae shook her head. Artificial people often batted that line amongst themselves. It was as close to humor as most got. But in that millisecond when she was disarmed, Rook took action. He darted between the desks and towards the larger offices.

He remained so calm that Mae was almost jealous. He disappeared from view, even as the creaks and groans from above sounded louder. The Xenomorphs did love to travel in the air ducts. They were much more agile than a human up there, and it suited their favorite method of attack: ambush.

I’m calling the elevator now. It’s safe. Rook’s transmission was slightly distorted. Their fragile shared network had a limited signal strength amongst the metal of the station’s superstructure.

Mae leaped to her feet and hustled after him until the pressure door slammed down centimeters in front of her face. On the other side, Rook spun around.

Safeguard protocol on the executive level must have triggered when I called the elevator. He hastily examined each side of the door. It’s under evac protocol. I can’t open it.

They stared at each other for 8.23 seconds through the glass. Behind Rook, the elevator pinged a bell-like tone to announce its arrival. It was an incongruously happy sound given the situation.

You can reach the small freight deck directly off the galleria. The kitchen staff get all their supplies delivered there. Your mother ordered the Blackstar moved there for repairs. Rook pressed his hand against the door for a moment. Go back down one corridor, turn right. Take the transit. Go now.

Mae felt a touch of panic. We were supposed to go together. You have my Deep Lock key. What if something happens to you?

He nodded. I’ll be fine. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ll find you. Go.

Dampening down her concerns, Mae took one last look at Rook and ran back the way they’d come until she spotted the large, distressed words under a scarlet arrow on the wall:

TRANSIT STATION TO GALLERIA, OBSERVATION DECK, AND CANTEEN.

Mae had little experience with space stations. However, it made sense they’d have supply shuttles for ferrying the food and supplies needed to keep humans productive. The Jackals complained about and rejoiced in food. It almost made Mae wish for taste buds, sometimes.

She’d couldn’t afford to think of Shipp, Yoo, or Littlefield right now.

Crouching low, Mae followed the arrow along the corridors towards the transit tram. It was still functional—at least for a few more minutes. She jumped on, and when the doors finally shut, she found it appropriate to sigh. Even without lungs to fill with oxygen, it felt good.

“Where are you headed?”

The voice made her spin around, ready to attack.

A David unit sat alone on the bench seat, but shuffled aside as the transit tram whirred to life and rumbled on. His handsome face turned to her and smiled. Mae realized with a lurch that all the synthetics on the station were being abandoned. Even if the station survived, they’d be wandering around with Xenomorphs that would eventually rip them to pieces. That, or they’d gradually fail and fall apart. Mae couldn’t decide which was the worse fate.

She sat down on the seat next to him and smiled back. “Galleria.”

“Lovely at this cycle,” he replied. “The two moons outlined against the sun.”

Mae stared down at her hands for a moment. “You should probably go into rest mode. The humans are evacuating.”

“But you’re not.” His right lip curled as David’s smile stretched a little too wide. “You are, in fact, an intruder on this station.”

He gave away his intentions a nanosecond before attacking. Mae anticipated and swayed back as his lightning-fast punch came for her head. She ducked and rolled away as he kicked one leg towards her, seeking to crush her torso against the steel floor.

Mae grabbed hold of his leg in an attempt to unbalance him, straining against the power of the other synthetic. Turning, he grabbed her head in his hands, face contorting into an even more unnatural smile.

“You’re becoming hysterical. Let me calm you down.” His voice came out soft and calming, even as he strained against her.

Mae understood immediately that his methods were going to be fatal. All this time she’d worried about the Xenomorphs, and now one of her own brethren would kill her.

2

SEEKING A STAR

In a combat body, Mae would have been able to overpower this David unit easily. However, she currently occupied her custom made, most human-like shell. Although Davids weren’t created for combat specifically, over time the public realized they still could cause harm. The company put this model out of commission after fatal malfunctioning incidents. Many attempts to staunch the secondary black-market trade proved futile. The UPP and fringe colonies, as well as companies looking to slash their bottom line, took advantage of cut-rate prices.

Much like he attempted to slash her major control micro-hydraulics. They traded blows up and down the transit tram. Mae deflected his strikes on her forearm, but leaving her upper body vulnerable. He inflicted a cut on her neck. For a human, that would have been deadly, but it still knocked her back. He’d cut a narrow slice in her skin, and a thin line of her bespoke red circulatory fluid trickled over her shoulder. The David’s gaze darted to it in surprise. All androids’ fluids were a thin, milky white.

His bewilderment gave her a moment. As the transit tram gained momentum, both reached for the rail to stabilize themselves. She activated the one advantage she possessed. Though Mae wasn’t in a combat body, she did still have the programming. Security subroutines activated, mirroring a human adrenaline rush.

Catching the David by the arm, she spun him around, throwing him into the orange vertical grab rail. The carriage resounded with the crash of his internal structure connecting, carbon fiber against metal. He rolled to his feet, though the pole remained bent to his shape.

Faster than any human could, he closed, landing three successive powerful punches on Mae’s torso. She absorbed them with a snarl she’d learned from Captain Olivia Shipp, her mother’s greatest confidante. Then, spinning, she caught the next punch he threw in her hand, squeezing and twisting at the same time.

Mae used the force of his momentum to shift him off balance. She stepped around him, and in one smooth move, pulled her bowie knife from her boot and rammed it into the side of his head.

White circulatory fluid exploded over her weapon and fist. The David’s eyes went blank. His hand twitched fractionally. It was a clean blow to his central processing core, and he dropped to his knees.

Mae jerked the knife free, and he toppled over onto his face with a thud. She might have felt a twinge of remorse, but she’d never liked the David models. Knowing their history as she did, she was pleased to take at least one out of commission.

The transit tram lurched to a stop as the station warning sounded again.

“Attention. Emergency. All personnel must evacuate immediately. Get to your nearest escape pod. You now have five minutes to evacuation protocol.”

Mae bolted out of the tram and onto the galleria deck. Only a few hours since she’d stood here watching the citizens of the station line up for noodles. Now the empty storefronts flickered with red emergency lighting. People once ate here, communed with their colleagues, and enjoyed an unhurried moment. The company designed the station to conceal its terrible experiments, but everyday people still lived here.

Now it was a broken nightmare-scape of people searching for a way out. The tang of blood filled the air, while control panels sparked with barely contained fires. The workers clustered near the safety bay on the galleria’s outer rim, which held ranks of cryo escape pods. Deep space versions like these were self-propelled, designed to travel to the nearest shipping lane or habitable world, but slowly enough to preserve its fragile cargo. However, such safety measures would take too long for her purposes. Mae needed to reach the Blackstar and get help for the Jackals immediately.

Small groups of station personnel argued by the remaining three pods. Fists were flying, and Mae’s internal protocols were at an impasse. Her orders were to seek help for Zula Hendricks and the Jackals, but these were people who needed her assistance, too. Davis, however, controlled her specifications when she was made, and he’d chosen to give his daughter free will like a genetic human. It was a tough choice. If she waited here to sort this out, she might not get off Minos. The Jackals and her mother would perish.

In the end she chose her mother and her team. Mae bypassed the fight and ran past the escape pod array, towards the door marked NO ENTRANCE.

A young woman stood by the control panel, furiously punching numbers. She turned her terrified face in Mae’s direction. A name tag on her shirt said ALICE PRIM.

“My shuttle’s in there,” Alice gasped as her eyes grew huge. “I delivered power cores a few hours ago, but now it’s locked me out.”

“I’ll run a bypass,” Mae said. “Give me one second.”

The woman nodded, blinked back tears, and scooted out of the way. Mae withdrew her kit from inside her jacket and plugged it in. Hopefully, in the chaos, Alice wouldn’t notice she did it faster than any genetic human could. The lights swirled and blinked before letting out a low beep that was almost lost in the surrounding noise.

The door slid open, and Alice let out a relieved laugh. “Oh my god, let’s go!”

Behind her, the red emergency light flashed and Alice, in her haste to escape, didn’t notice the large ink-black shape moving in the shadows.

An artificial person didn’t attract its lethal attention, but a warm human body did. The monster moved fast, its talons failing to find purchase on the floor, skittering across the metallic floor on all fours before rising onto its back legs. It leaped on the young delivery driver as she let out a startled howl. Mae, devoid of any weapon capable of working against such a monster, froze in place. It wrapped one hand over Alice’s face and dragged her away, screaming but alive. Her fate would be far worse than death.

The group of squabbling people shouted over each other, their voices echoing in the escape pod bay. They fared no better. Their loud voices became a dinner bell.

Two Xenomorphs darted out from the kitchen of one of the abandoned noodle shops. They scrambled over overturned chairs, clambered over the counter, and vaulted among the terrified people. A woman in a white coat screamed as the subject of her research was suddenly on top of her, tearing her flesh from her like bark off a tree. The others scattered, running on primitive instincts to escape. Except there was no safety to be found on this station. The only escape was death.

Now Minos belonged to the Xenomorphs and their needs.

An older man almost made it to Mae. His glasses fell off, his white coat flapping as he reached out towards her. She tried to grab him, but the monster was faster.

The Xeno’s inner mouth punched out, kissing the man’s forehead and breaking it as easily as an egg. His panicked screams ended in a spray of scarlet. The human blood struck her on the shoulder, mingling with her own red synthetic circulatory fluid.

The Xenomorph turned to face her. Its smooth featureless head tilted as it pulled its lips back from gleaming, sharp teeth. In the flickering half-light of the galleria the slight blue tinge of the Kuebiko infection gleamed over the creature’s carapace. Blood and spittle ran down from both its mouths. A bowie knife wouldn’t help her, but if she stayed still, it should move on. Staring it directly in the eyeless sockets for a long moment, however, Mae wasn’t completely sure of that assertion.

What did this perfect organism see when it looked at her? Even after all this time, they didn’t fully understand what went on under that shiny black carapace. Elegant and brutally efficient, many corporations wanted to put it to work for their own ends. All in pursuit of its ruthlessness and evolutionary power.

Looking at it, Mae wondered at the hubris of humanity.

Its stance shifted from upright to coiled. Whatever the Xeno’s calculations, it chose to mark her as a threat. She contemplated that for a split second, and then the answer came: the queen was communicating with all her drones, and it recognized her. It remembered her from the lab on the station’s eleventh level. She must think that Mae was among the artificial people that aided the scientists who imprisoned and experimented on her children.

Mae moved to defend herself, but this body was too fragile for a fight with a drone. She might not make it to the Blackstar at all.

The dull thud of a pulse rifle echoed down the promenade. The back of the Xeno’s head exploded into acid and black chunks of carapace. Synthetic instincts, faster than a human’s, helped Mae dodge to the right, out of the way of its blood spray as it melted the deck where she’d been standing.

Rook loped across the galleria, a newly gained pulse rifle looped over one shoulder. He grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. Are you alright?

She nodded. Never happier to see your face, though.

The corners of his mouth lifted a fraction. Not many people can say that, these days. Not since my accident. Let’s get going. We don’t have much time.

With the lights flashing faster, Mae and Rook entered the airlock. The freight deck remained pressurized, so the inner door opened without issue. On the other side was the poor young woman’s freight shuttle, right next to the Blackstar.

Weyland-Yutani made Minos Station’s computer mainframe, Kaspar, and they were renowned for creating some of the most loyal synthetic minds. Kaspar had locked down the station and the Righteous Fury and was operating on containment protocols. The humans hadn’t realized that Kaspar would unleash hell on all of them if it meant obeying its orders. The rules of synthetic behavior did not apply in this situation.

Once they navigated the Blackstar beyond the solar system, past Kaspar’s network of satellites, they should be able to signal for help.

Mae and Rook raced past Alice’s shuttle. She glimpsed the name on its side, the Solo Cup. Despite the situation, she couldn’t stop a small smile flickering over her lips. A perfectly ridiculous thing to notice at that moment. Perhaps her ascent to consciousness was affecting her in strange ways she’d not accounted for. Humor in such a situation should be impossible.

The Blackstar awaited them, as battered and bruised as the synthetic who owned it. Long patches of paint were missing from its sides. The solar run Rook used to remove the Xenomorph resin from the ship’s side left her with long charred marks. The thought of the Blackstar filled with their enemies was more than a little unnerving, but they would have to check for stowaways after escaping Minos.

Rook led the way through the hatch, which still bore the Weyland-Yutani logo. That didn’t help Mae’s feelings towards the ship, but it was their only chance to escape.

Strange how her gut twisted when she thought about her mother and the other Jackals. She didn’t have any internal organs to behave like that. Still, leaving everyone behind felt very wrong.

Rook slipped into the pilot’s chair and buckled up. Mae took the seat next to him while he punched in the request to open the bay’s outer door. Lockdown protocol hadn’t yet extended to the hangar. Even Kaspar couldn’t mess with that.

The door opened, even as the red emergency lighting flickered. The station would soon be a sealed death trap.

Don’t jinx it, Zula always warned her, and she’d always dismissed such things as human superstition. Except just then, the hangar bay doors began grinding closed. The station was shutting down on them.

Punch it, Rook!

Hang on, he warned, firing up the engines. They didn’t need to worry about an angry station flight controller, at this point. The Blackstar was shockingly quick. Mae first noted that when it swooped in to save them, but experiencing it firsthand was another matter. While Rook gunned the Blackstar for the exit, the hangar bay doors were close to completing their descent. Kaspar seemed to playing with them, as ridiculous as that seemed.

She’d learned more than just superstitions from Zula Hendricks. Mae now possessed quite an arsenal of swear words. This seemed like an appropriate moment for them.

The ship bounced off the flight deck, metal screeching in protest. Mae feared the ship might shake itself into pieces as they made a final desperate run for the closing hangar doors. One last ‘fuck’ escaped Mae as they screamed past them. Rook narrowed his eyes as the ship blew between the descending doors.

Mae fully expected to be ejected into space with the ship exploding around them, but despite it all, the Blackstar held and they were free of the station.

Rook glanced over at her. His expression was an entirely human one. It’s okay. We’re okay.

Synthetics weren’t supposed to believe in luck, but Mae changed her mind on that one. Hope followed that realization. Perhaps they could rescue the remaining Jackals after all, and her mother too.

Rook turned back to the controls. We’re on track to make it to the shipping lanes soon. I don’t think I’m going to need to activate your Deep Protection subroutines. Things should be fine from now on.

He must’ve been able to feel her concerns. Colonel Zula Hendricks wanted to protect her daughter, and if anyone found out she was synthetic, they would tear her apart.

Reaching over, Rook placed his hand on top of hers. We’ll get her back, Mae. We’ll get them all back.

It seemed dangerous to place her entire being in the hands of another synthetic—especially after EWA betrayed her over Shānmén. Yet her mother trusted him, and it made sense. They would return to the generals, and then they’d race back to Minos Station. With a few strategic nukes, they could destroy this terrible station and its experimental training facility on the planet.

Mae nodded. I believe you.

You are your mother’s daughter. He squeezed her hand a fraction.

Mae stared out into the darkness ahead and reminded herself of how far she’d come since first awakening. They were on their way. Her mother only needed to hold out until their return. If anyone could survive, it was Colonel Zula Hendricks.

3

AN INTERESTING CATCH

Stare too long into the Long Dark and it will burrow into your soul.

Every old spacer hanging around Guelph Station drinking cheap booze and remembering their glory days grumbled those words. Lenny Pope didn’t drink, but he enjoyed listening to those most ignored.

Most of the stories he heard were full of long-haul spacer superstition. He didn’t necessarily believe in superstitions, but he kept his opinions to himself. They possessed a bunch: no whistling while on the Rim, renaming a ship beckoned disaster. His favorite was black cats on board brought good luck, not that many could afford one these days. He understood why the old-timers said such things: they were attempting to control the unknown.

Yet Lenny agreed with them at the same time. He didn’t enjoy looking out at nothing from their ship, the Eumenides, either. Unlike the rest of his family, he found the pit of empty space they traveled through uncomfortable. He’d always find an asteroid, a planet—hell, even some space junk—to focus on.

Not like his brother. He glanced over at Morgan hunched over the ore scanner. Older by a couple of years, their parents let him get away with a lot more than they would Lenny, like his green hair that matched the hull color of their family’s ship. He’d let it grow long, even though it got caught in the scanner’s visor.

“Anything good?” Lenny dared to ask.

Morgan let out a long sigh and pushed his hair out of his face as he stood up. “Nothing worth waking Mom and Dad over. This whole asteroid cloud is pure granite. We should have listened to Tim Bits. He warned us the Combine mined it out last cycle.”

They targeted the long line of debris in the orbit of Krasue. It lay on the edge of the solar system of Nachzehrer—a lonely place to make a living. Usually, such places were lucrative enough to keep the Popes as free agents in a universe of vast corporations. Morgan became adept at scanning rocks and debris, hunting for those rare metals or ice chunks large enough to make them worthwhile to haul in. They’d hoped Tim was shooting his mouth off again, but this time it appeared he was right.

Lenny slid back in his chair. One more cycle and he could join the Combine without the permission of his parents, William and Daniella Pope. A couple of his friends back on Guelph Station filled out the forms already. That wasn’t a guarantee they’d get in, but it was something, at least. The other option was to join the military. His folks completed two tours for the Space Operating Forces of the UPP, and their reviews were less than glowing. Any mention of the SOF and his parents would lock him on the Eumenides until he came to his senses.

Morgan would never think about signing up for either the Combine or the SOF. He was as committed to their family mining venture as their parents. His entire world was this tub. Yet it was Lenny who’d put them in debt.

“Hey, shit-heel!” Morgan leaned over to shove his brother’s feet off the edge of the dash. He must’ve recognized something in Lenny’s expression that indicated he was sliding towards introspection. “Why don’t you go make me a coffee while we come around the sunward side of the planet? You know, just in case the company missed something back there.”

Lenny got up without comment and slipped past his brother. The back of the Eumenides was as tight as the cockpit. Spending weeks out in this beloved tin can left no room for privacy, but at least in the galley Lenny might have a few moments alone. As he did the slide-shuffle to get back there, he kicked shut the hatch in the floor, which led down to the ore hold with the tether nets. Morgan left it open like he was hopeful one of them would have to race down to fire the nets. Luck would be a fine thing.

Lenny understood why his brother, who focused all his energy on keeping the mining skiff and their home solvent, tried to remain optimistic. Out here on the edge of known space, and on the lip of financial ruin, there wasn’t any hope to be found in the Long Dark. Whatever hope you needed, you must build yourself.

When it was their parents’ shift, they usually sat in their chairs, feet propped on the dash, eyes fixed on the emptiness of it all. Through it, though, they held hands. Both were former UPP soldiers, used to not having a lot and grateful for being alive. Lenny often suspected their relationship was the only thing keeping them from total cynicism. Still, it took both brothers promising not to halt the scan for them to retreat to their sleeping berth for a few hours’ rest. It was a hard life, which Lenny worried was taking a toll on his parents. Another concern to add to his constant list.

Lenny fished out the coffee from the battered cupboard. It was the pre-processed imitation kind because no one had the money for the actual stuff. Using your imagination was the only way to make it palatable. Lenny shook a good amount out into the tiny mug before slapping the boiler to life. Out here, they usually ran out of proper water in the first couple of weeks. In the Long Dark you learned to forget you were making your coffee with your crewmates’ recycled piss.

During treatment, Pelorus, the former medical synth back on Guelph, described different worlds to him, and ways to live. Now, Lenny wanted that. He clung to it like a man with only a sip of air left in his suit.

As Lenny stirred the concoction, he wondered whether soldiers at least got the good stuff. His folks should know, but he would not ask them. Any time he brought up their past, they totally shut down. If they guessed he’d even casually scanned the signup release for the SOF, they’d lose their minds. His mom would no doubt tie him up in the tether nets and head for the outer rim.

Not that he would actually do it. The Eumenides would be too short-handed to function without his help.

As always when he became nervous, his finger drifted to his temple and the one-centimeter square of metal on the outer edge of his right eye, concealed beneath his skin. No one ever mentioned the augment that saved his life when he was only ten, but it lingered in the desperate atmosphere of the Eumenides. The birth defect nearly killed him. The Muster Syndrome, they called it, since it afflicted the kids of many former soldiers. It left Morgan untouched but ravaged Lenny’s brain. It became apparent the moment he took his first breath. In his early years drugs were enough to keep the effects at bay, but as his body entered puberty, they didn’t cut it anymore. Without more complicated intervention, he’d have stroked out within a year, unable to deal with the g-force experienced by any child living on a spaceship.

His parents were presented with three choices: either leave him in the UPP’s care, let him die in theirs, or mortgage the Eumenides. His parents both grew up in the UPP’s children’s camps: the haunted look in his mother’s eyes, in particular, told Lenny they would’ve never taken that option. The augment that would save him remained available for a price, and the company didn’t care how many children died; the cost remained firm.

The augment kept him alive, and when the flight computer acted up, he could jack into it and fix the problem. Hardly worth the high price the family all paid, though.

As if thinking about it activated the augment, a tickle built up in the back of his brain. He’d been told there was no way he had enough nerves there, but that was how it sometimes felt. It was as if the itch was crawling around the inside of his skull.

Chugging the coffee meant for his brother didn’t seem to shake it. He tried not to think about it, but if it wasn’t for his Muster Syndrome, his parents could have afforded a crew. It would have been a very different life. He might have been drinking real coffee in some company office.

“Shit,” Lenny whispered under his breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose. The augment sensation had never been this strong before. He made another cup for Morgan and staggered back to the bridge.

His brother took the mug and glanced up. “You okay? The augment acting up?”

Lenny hated talking about it with any of his family. Every time he mentioned it bothering him, he felt awful. The thing that threatened to financially ruin his family every time dock fees came due should at least work right.

He nodded and gestured to the scanner. “I’m fine. You wanna take a break? I can run this.”

Morgan slipped out of the chair and over to the pilot’s seat. The computer was in charge, but she wasn’t one of those fancy Wey-Yu ones. It didn’t do to leave her steering the Eumenides without some kind of supervision. He busied himself with checking settings, while Lenny positioned himself over the scanner.

Their limited computer system selected likely areas in the debris cloud to search, but they needed a human eye to run more complete analysis. He played the scanner’s beam over the nearest section of debris. Lenny spotted nothing but granite, but for a second, in one corner, the light briefly flared. He blinked, frowned, and jerked back from the viewer.

“You alright there, shit-heel?” Morgan asked, setting his mug of coffee down on the dash.

The augment sometimes caused him to experience visual distortions, flickers of noise, and now and then a phantom smell. Lenny shook his head.

“No, I’m fine. Probably that damn coffee.”

Morgan chuckled. “Find us a deposit the Combine missed and maybe we can afford the good stuff.”

“Yeah, sure. Right.” Lenny leaned back down. “Can you take us five clicks to starboard? There’s less chewed-up debris over there.”

Morgan flew the Eumenides in the direction he’d suggested. His expression, though, wasn’t optimistic.

Lenny fitted his face back into the viewer of the scanner. The augment showed him a flicker of light once more, but he ignored it. Then a high-pitched squeal burst in his left ear. It lasted for only a second, but it made his eyes water. He managed not to jerk away again.

Morgan nudged the ship closer to the section of the debris cloud Lenny wanted to examine. He muttered a bit to himself as well, though he wouldn’t have done that if it was their mom or dad at the viewer.

Lenny frowned. “I think there might be something behind that cluster of untouched granite back there. Bring us around in a circle.”

The Eumenides shook a little as Morgan activated the jets used for minute position adjustments. The ship came about, rotating around a section of untouched rock.

“This looks new,” Lenny said. “This rock could have been deposited by a comet or something more recently than the Combine harvest.”

“That’d be nice,” Morgan replied. “Comets can bring in some valuable metals from beyond the system. Shall I go wake the folks?”

Lenny stared down at the viewer. Suddenly, it lit up with many colors. Aluminum. Steel. Even traces of Eitr. That was exciting enough, but then he made out the largest piece of comet debris nestled behind the granite, and it was rectangular. Not much in the natural world, even out in the Long Dark, was such a defined shape.

“Yeah, do it!” he said, not looking up but waving towards his brother. “They’re going to need to deploy the nets.”

As he scanned more, his heart raced. This wasn’t a natural deposit. It must be salvage material. Somewhere in the path of a comet, a ship lost at least part of its hull. The only naturally occurring place to find Eitr was in the mines of the planet Shānmén. The authorities shut down that mine because of a plague outbreak in the previous cycle, so to find the element floating out here meant it could only have come from a shipwreck.

Lenny only glanced up when his parents emerged from their berth. He finally sat back on the bench, letting out a ragged breath.

Daniella rubbed her dark hair, shot through with gray, then stretched her neck. “Think you’ve got something, huh?”

He nodded and shrugged, strangely embarrassed by his discovery now that his parents were here.

William slid into the pilot’s seat, his gaze fixed on the Long Dark and the orbiting debris. His beard was as rumpled as his hair. “First find for you, son. Let’s see if you’re as good as your brother.”

Morgan rolled his eyes at Lenny and mouthed, Hedoesn’t mean it. Lenny shrugged, like it didn’t matter.

Daniella dropped into the seat next to her husband and ran through the net test cycle. She spared only one glance over her shoulder at her sons. “Get ready by the haul door. I am not wasting fuel bringing in trash. I need your eyeballs on what I drag in. That means you, Morgan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He opened the hatch and Lenny followed him down into the most important part of the Eumenides. The cargo hold was empty, a sad indictment of their success so far. At the stern was the airlock which contained the net and clamps. As the brothers waited, Daniella opened the outermost door and deployed the long cables. Each of these she piloted out into the debris field, the nets uncoiling behind.

These moments were heart-stopping, at least to Lenny. Seeing the Long Dark through the glass airlock made it seem closer and far more dangerous. The brothers waited in the tense semi-darkness of the hold, not speaking to each other.

The net deployment system groaned and clanked, slapping against the side of the Eumenides like some primeval sea creature. Dimly, Daniella’s voice rose above the din. Lenny couldn’t make out the words, but his mom loved to swear while working the ancient nets. She always said it helped her concentrate.

The intercom clicked on in the hold. “Alright, I think I got something. Hauling now.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to be doing this for a share,” Morgan muttered, then let out a snort of a laugh. Shares were for commercial vessels. The brothers worked for survival and family.

Lenny didn’t want to go near that subject. Instead, he grabbed two pairs of thick gloves and tossed one set to Morgan. The net dragged and bumped across the floor, and then the outer door closed.

The digital array by the inner airlock door ran from red, through orange, and finally cycled to green. Morgan reached the controls first. “Alright, little bro, let’s see what you got us.” He punched the button, and the doors groaned open.

With the nets retracted on each side of the inner bay, Morgan and Lenny picked their way through the catch, using hand scanners to identify the metals. It didn’t take long.

“Yeah, this isn’t natural.” Lenny picked up a piece of twisted metal. “This is ship salvage.”

“Works either way.” Morgan pulled at the largest section. “See if we can find some ID numbers, and we’ll report to the Ministry of Space Security to get checked out. Pretty likely we’ll get to sell this, though. Should be a good amount, too.”

“Maybe Mom will crack a smile.”

Morgan didn’t reply, too busy levering a flat section loose. It broke open and tumbled to the deck, revealing a far different shape. “Oh, fuck no.” His older brother staggered back. “Goddamn, no!”

The long rectangular shape couldn’t be anything other than a cryo escape pod.

Lenny stumbled over the scattered debris to reach it. Morgan kicked a slice of aluminum with such force that it bounced off the hull walls. Lenny, however, crouched to examine the pod.

The design wasn’t a familiar one, and Lenny studied ship design for fun. It wasn’t anything off a freighter or pleasure cruiser. The sturdy construction screamed military, though there were no SOF markings on it.

“Do you see green?” Morgan asked, circling the pod. “Do you see green lights?”

Lenny peered underneath to glimpse the controls. “They’re flickering. Hold on. I see one green. The rest are dark.”

The pod lay on its face, so there was no way to check the contents. Morgan grabbed a long pry bar, and together, the brothers strained to roll the pod over. Neither of them was cruel enough to desire another traveler’s death in the Long Dark. However, the fact remained that under law the wreckage was fair salvage only if there was a corpse inside. A living, breathing occupant made things much more complicated.

The pod landed right-side up with a crash, nearly crushing Morgan’s foot. He jumped back as Lenny got a close-up view of the control panel.

“Yeah, it’s barely functional.” Leaning over, he brushed ice off the glass panel and peered in. He fully expected to see a mummified face staring back. Instead, the inhabitant of the pod seemed as fresh as if she’d climbed in there only moments before.

It was a young woman, with sharp cheekbones, dark skin, and close-cropped hair—like something out of those stupid Earth fairy tales. She didn’t appear to be wounded.

Morgan peered in and let out an aggravated sigh. “Well, there goes our salvage, little brother! Pretty as she is, that doesn’t pay the bills.”

“We need to find out how busted up she is.” Lenny stood up. “We’re going to have to run a bypass on the pod systems to get her out of there.”

Morgan glanced away for a long moment.

He must be calculating the losses to the Eumenides.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I bet she’s got a good story to tell, at least.”

Lenny rubbed his neck. Sometimes he felt guilty that he wasn’t as obsessed by the family finances as his brother and parents were. His aspirations beyond the Eumenides made it easier to ignore their current reality. Their skiff sailed on razor-thin margins. Laws surrounding salvage were one thing, but there were also laws regarding recovered escape pods. The Eumenides would have to return to Guelph immediately, but bureaucracy would tie up the ship’s fuel compensation for months. A lot of crews would have dumped the pod, stripped the logs of any mention of it, and moved on. But the Popes would not, even if it made their lives more complicated.

Lenny was proud of that. The idea of floating out in the dark all alone was his living nightmare, and he wasn’t part of a family that would ever let that happen.

He looked down at her, resting peacefully, and he hoped the woman in the pod had no memory of that. The story she held was bound to be an interesting one.

4

FORGOTTEN DARK

Black flickered at the corners of her vision. Bright light raced past, obscuring shapes and memory. Then the sound battered her, a scream from both people and metal as something exploded. Chaos tore apart all reason and took her down with it.

Thrown adrift in a world of tumbled meaning and sensations, she became suddenly nameless. The roar of it all broke through her. She snapped like a thin piece of metal. The howl she let out joined the madness of her existence. She only did so to make something real. It was at least a word rather than a guttural sound that she let out. “No!” It stretched away, disjointed and lost, a demand that the universe wouldn’t meet.

Torn and battered, she didn’t look away or turn off any of her reactions. She plummeted from everywhere, spinning and misplaced.

After a numberless measure of time, the relentless rumble faded away. She tried to find herself. Raising her hands, she discovered she was trapped. Her body rattled in a cage of darkness as claustrophobia stole her from confusion’s grasp. Her no trembled and ground down into a please.

It didn’t matter. She longed for the comfort of the rumble, because the thick silence she’d been dropped into was even more terrifying. The blessing of unconsciousness was not hers to have.

The only feeling was her hands against metal, and the drip of her blood down her leg. That was a sensation she latched onto. At some point she couldn’t recall, she’d been injured. Shouldn’t she be experiencing pain? It must be shock. This all must be shock.

Wriggling her hand, she managed to get her fingers across her belly. The blood leaked under her palm, and fresh panic bloomed.

Die. I’m going to die in this box.

She didn’t even recognize what the box was, or how she’d gotten into it. Only the primitive part of her brain still fought to live. These questions would never find answers.

Don’t die. Breathe. Hold on.