I know these are our final planet rotations together, and even though there is an important mission at play, I want to soak up information about my past. Maybe it matters to nobody else in the universe, but it means something to me.
“Ah, Mirelle, she was so fierce. She learned a technique to get out of cuffs or surprise an enemy. She used this technique more than once. It was how the two of us first escaped from Ocretia, all those years ago.”
“Why did you never tell me this?”
He shakes his head. “It wasn’t time.” He coughs. “A little metal shank, just so long.” He holds up his hands. “Insert it under her fingernail. The pain was surely excruciating at first, but she said that if you could handle the pain at first, you get the freedom.”
“She’d use it to do what?”
“The cuffs at that time weren't electronic, all of them. Some had a mechanical lock she could pick with the shank. You know, like the kind used for cargo holds.”
“And that’s what she did?”
“She wore that shank in her body for months, waiting for the opportunity. It became part of her, in a sense.”
“That’s amazing. I wish I could be like her.” My voice is reverent.
He glances past me, and his face is fond. “She had patience and foresight. It was like she could see into the future, ten steps ahead. The planning she’d do.” He shakes his head. “By the time the Ocretions learned we were gone from the slave huts, she already had us so far ahead, logistically, that they could never catch up.”
“What do you mean?”
“She planned everything out meticulously. If a, then b. If c, then d. Contingencies upon contingencies. Things we never had to use, but which we had in place just in case. Such a strategist. She’d have made an amazing planetary leader.”
“She was one. For a time. Yes.” I take his hand.
“That she was.” He squeezes. “Right here. And her best creation of all, her best plan, sweet girl, was you. She would have loved you.”
I shake my head. “She should have been leading armies of humans.” I think of the martial arts training I gave the other humans on Zandia, how my mates arranged it.
“Sometimes one is stronger than many. The right one.” He coughs and wheezes. “You have her passion. Keep working on the strategy. It’s in you. You’re more like her than you can ever know.”
And so, as my father and I sit in our rough hut, drinking scalding lemonberry tea and eating aprix jerky, he talks late into the night, as the stars shine and then fade. That night and the next few, I make it my goal to soak up every word. And to use my dreams to help me plan.
I work on the short-range comm device and my father helps me craft the fake messages we hope and pray pirates will intercept. The ones that say that we have humans here, ones who escaped Ocretia, lots of human women.
And we wait.
Domm
* * *
“Do you think she made it there?” My chest is tight. We should’ve been with her—we should’ve taken the dangerous voyage at her side.
“I don’t know. It’s not likely that any other being could.”
“But she’s different,” I say. “I wish…” I begin.
“You wish what?”
“I think we need to go get her.” I stand up straight.
“She said she hates us. She prefers to be on Jesel.” His voice is flat.
“I don’t believe it. She doesn’t hate us. She just—she was torn into two pieces.” I look out at the stars. “I believe she cares. Besides, she may be in danger right now while we’re sitting here with our thumbs up our asses. It doesn’t matter if she loves us—I love her, and if she’s battling, I should be at her side.”
Lanz straightens, his hand falling to his sword, as if he’s ready to draw it for her right now. He glances at our navigation panel. “You know we’re not permitted into that star territory right now.”
“It’s a rescue mission.” I shrug and smile. “An emergency mission. We are still allowed to deviate course when it’s life or death.”