Shadow

by Kat Heckenbach - 

Robynn’s legs cramped from kneeling behind the support column. And leaning against the cold metal wall was making her back ache. Why hadn’t Gavin come out of that man’s room yet?

And he was a man, Robynn had decided. He had to be. The no-blinking thing was creepy, but his eyes were far too human to belong to a droid. And no self-respecting droid builder would have made bangs so shaggy…

The door swooshed open and Robynn flinched, her heart suddenly fluttering like a hummingbird’s. She peeked around the column. Gavin leaned through the doorway and peered down the corridor. Then he stepped through; the door swooshed closed behind him.

Robynn stood and stepped out into view, arms crossed, as Gavin crept past. “What were you doing in there?” she whispered through clenched teeth. She smiled as Gavin jumped.

His eyes narrowed, distorting his little boy features. “None of your business, Robynn Shadow.”

The words hit Robynn like a brick. Gavin had never used that name for her. The other kids called her that, of course. “Robynn Shadow in the shadows…hiding, hiding…in the shadows…” Because she didn’t like being the center of attention—as if there was something wrong with that! She wasn’t hiding. And she didn’t care what they thought anyway.

But, Gavin…

Anger surged. Hurt anger that clawed its way out as tears burned her eyes. “Fine, Gavin Talker, do what you like!” She spun and stomped down the corridor.

“Robynn, wait!” His footsteps pounded behind her.

She could have easily outrun him, even out-walked, with her long legs and his short ones. But she didn’t speed up, and in moments he was next to her.

He tugged her arm. “I’m sorry. Please, Robynn.”

She stopped and looked down at him. His eyes were wide.

“I can’t tell you what I was doing here. No one can find out. Only Ave knows…and if she trusts me, then you should, too.” He squeezed her arm tighter. “And I’m sorry I called you that. I know you hate Shadow as much as I hated Talker.”

“Hated? What, you like it now?”

He smiled then, his wide eyes lighting up and his cheeks pushing out. “Course not! The kids’ll probably still call me that, but it’s not my name anymore, not for real.”

Robynn scrunched her mouth to one side. “So let’s hear it,” she said. “What’s your ‘real’ name?”

His eyes shifted down. “Okay, it wasn’t my idea…I know it sounds kinda strange…but it’s a real Earth name.” He looked up again. “Collodi.”

Robynn tilted her head, tightening her brow. “You mean like Carlo Collodi? The guy that wrote Pinocchio?”

“Pinocchio?”

“It’s an ancient story. About a man who doesn’t realize he wants a son, but he makes this puppet that becomes a real boy—because they love each other so much.”

Gavin stared at her, wide-eyed again, lip quivering.

Robynn knelt down. “Are you okay?” she asked as she wiped a tear from his cheek.

He nodded and smiled. “Very.”

Mother

by Kat Heckenbach -

Piper found nothing wrong with being called a servant, because she found nothing wrong with being a servant. And she could deal with the older woman’s attitude. She’d surely dealt with far worse.

But tears stung her eyes because those hateful words had come from Nik’s mother.

His mother.

How had a woman like that raised a guy like Nik?

He stood beside Piper, arm tight around her waist. His eyes were narrow slits.

“She is not a servant, Mother,” he said in a hard whisper. “She’s only here covering for one of the waitresses who called in sick. She’s a chef!”

His volume increased and his nostrils flared. “And not just a chef. Your favorite. That ‘culinary masterpiece’ you were raving about the other night—she created that recipe!”

Heat rose to Piper’s cheeks at the pride in Nik’s voice. Pride in her. She chewed the corner of her lip, leaning into him.

The woman’s eyes widened as she sat at the table, hands wringing the cloth napkin. Her jaw moved as if she were about to open her mouth, but her lips stayed together. Her gaze flitted back and forth between Nik and Piper. And then she placed the napkin in her lap and looked down as she smoothed it with fingers ringed in sparkling gems.

“Well, a chef is a different story indeed.” She cleared her throat, and lifted her head to look at Piper as if nothing had happened.

Piper felt Nik stiffen.

“You have completely missed the point, Mother.”

Nik slid his arm from Piper’s waist and reached down to grab her hand, then tugged her away from the table.

Piper stumbled behind him until they’d passed the next table, then ground to a stop. “Nik, no.”

He turned to look at her, anger flaring in his eyes. “I will not spend another moment around that woman.”

“She’s your mother.”

He huffed and stared past Piper’s shoulder. “She’s so judgmental. Even if you were a waitress, she had no right saying that. I’m sick of it. She may have married for money, but I intend to marry for love.”

The floor seemed to sink out from under Piper’s feet, and she gripped Nik’s hand tighter to steady herself. Okay, he said marry, and he said love, but he’s just speaking in general terms…it doesn’t mean me…Piper pushed the bubbles of thought to the back of her mind. There was time to think about that later. She closed her eyes.

“I haven’t seen my mother since I was six. I barely remember her.” She opened her eyes. Nik’s face had softened. She gently brushed his dark bangs aside, and held her fingers against his jaw. “You only get one mother.”

He gave a half-smile and nodded, then pulled her into his arms. “Okay, I’ll go apologize.” Then softer, “But if she keeps it up, you have my permission to poison her food.”

“Stop it!” She pushed him away and smacked his arm. Then she turned back to the table.

Nik’s mother glared at them over a pinched nose and twisted lip as if she smelled something offensive.

Piper inhaled and squeezed Nik’s hand. She tilted her head toward his and whispered, “I may take you up on that.”

Naming

by Kat Heckenbach -

Gavin lifted his head, blinking. His eyes ached from straining over the microscope. Dr. Spiner had shown him how to work all the buttons and dials, how to focus and find the tiniest of particles. It had been fun at first, but today’s work was boring and Gavin couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.

“Dr. Spiner?”

The wizard-scientist’s eyes were all that moved. And at that they only peeked out from under his shaggy bangs for a moment.

“I know it’s late, and you’re tired, son. It won’t be much longer though.” His hands shuffled nimbly among the various instruments in front of him.

“I just had a question, sir.”

“Hm?”

“What’s your first name?” Gavin hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by asking. It had only been a few months since he started his apprenticeship with Dr. Spiner, and the scientist had never treated Gavin like the child he was. Other than calling him son—which put a lump in Gavin’s throat each time he thought about it even though he knew it was just a nickname.

Dr. Spiner raised his whole head this time. “It’s Spiner, of course.”

Gavin felt his forehead scrunch. “But…but you’re Doctor Spiner. I thought…”

The scientist shifted on his stool. “What kind of first name is Doctor?” He smiled, but it was a smile that didn’t travel to his eyes.

The smile dropped and he sighed. “My first name is Spiner, Gavin. I abandoned my last name years ago. I suppose it’s still in my records, but no one knows it, not here. I’m just Spiner…or Doctor Spiner. And no one, until you, has asked me about it.”

Gavin’s skin flushed hot. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to…” He reached for the microscope again, but before he could put his eye against the lens Dr. Spiner was standing beside him. Gavin slowly looked up and met his dark eyes.

“I don’t mind, Gavin. I come from a family I’m not very proud of, that’s all.” The scientist lifted his hand and stroked a stray hair from Gavin’s face. “You don’t have a last name either, do you?”

“Just what the other kids call me. “

“And that would be?”

Gavin swallowed, throat burning. “Talker.”

This time the scientist’s smile lit up his whole face. “Seems we both need one then.” He turned, grabbed his stool and pulled it over. When he was seated, he leaned his elbow on the tabletop, work seemingly forgotten. “What shall our new last name be, son?”

The Waitress

by Kat Heckenbach -

Xavia tapped one manicured fingernail on the cloth-covered tabletop. Conversation buzzed around her, mixed with the clinking of glasses and the tink-tink-scrape of utensils. Everyone else seemed to be happily enjoying their meals while Xavia’s food had not arrived yet. She breathed deeply through her nose.

Unacceptable. There’s no excuse for a restaurant on this level to—

“Here you go, ma’am.”

Xavia lifted her head and gazed at the waitress—the one who had finally returned. The girl brushed back her purple-streaked blond hair, revealing a piercing in her eyebrow. She smiled as if everything was just perfect.

You have got to be kidding me.

The girl placed the plate on the table, bumping Xavia’s wine glass with a tattooed forearm. The glass tumbled to the floor and shattered. Xavia’s jaw clenched. Had the glass not been empty she’d have made sure the cost of the wine came out of the little grunt’s paycheck.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl said as she knelt down to pick up the glass.

Xavia huffed. “Leave that to a sweeper bot, you fool, and get me another glass of wine.”

“Oh, yes, the bot.” The girl stood and faced Xavia, chewing her bottom lip. She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m just not used to this. I’ll be right back.”

Xavia watched the girl walk off. The back of her hair had red streaks instead of purple. Her uniform hung awkwardly, as if made for someone larger. Of course, the girl was far too skinny. And that tattoo… it looked like something a grit-breather would have.

All I can say is she’d better have not touched my food.

The girl returned with Xavia’s wine and set the glass on the table. She opened her mouth as if to speak, and then clamped it shut, eyes wide. Xavia turned around to see what had the girl so transfixed that she felt it necessary to ignore her customer.

Nik was walking toward them, weaving between tables. He smiled brightly, but his eyes were on the waitress, not Xavia.

“Hey, Mom,” he said as he stepped past Xavia and hooked his arm around the waitress’s waist. “I see you’ve met Piper.” He pulled the grinning waitress closer.

What?

Her eyes moved back and forth, but her brain whirred as it tried to process her son’s words. Piper. He’d mentioned a girl he liked, a girl named Piper…but he’d never…

Xavia’s hand slammed the tabletop. “You’re dating a servant?”

Alive

by Kat Heckenbach -

Mary leaned over the rail of the crib and kissed Jacey’s tiny forehead. The peach fuzz along the baby’s hairline clung to her skin, damp with sweat, but her angelic face was completely relaxed.

“If only your daddy could have seen you.” Mary gazed at Jacey in wonderment over the features that looked so much like Jax. A perfect replica, even down to the arch of her eyebrows and the dimple that played in and out on her left cheek as she smiled in her sleep.

She sighed and left the room. The kids would be home any minute and she hadn’t even figured out what to cook for dinner. Granted, having an old friend stop by had been a worthy excuse. She smiled as she sorted through the conversation she’d had with Tomika, recalling how good it had felt to talk to someone about Jax without feeling like “the criminal’s widow.”

As she walked across the living area, chill air hit her skin. She stepped toward the environmental control panel next to her bedroom door, but as her gaze passed the open doorway she froze. Something silvery glinted on her nightstand.

What is that?

She crept into the bedroom, chills running up her arms. Atop her journal lay a triangular piece of metal. It looked like a knife.

No, as she got closer she realized it was too wide to be a knife and had no real handle, but it looked deadly sharp. She reached the nightstand and sat down on the edge of the bed, tears burning her eyes as she read the word “Mary” carved into the metal in Jax’s signature scrawl.

Jax…

She slid from the edge of the bed and landed on her knees, her hips sinking until she was sitting on her heels. Her hands found their way into her bangs and her torso rocked back, forth, back, forth, tears streaming her cheeks and dripping from her chin.

Jax….Oh, God, thank you…

#

The door to Maddie’s pub slammed behind Jax as he exited. His head swam from too much ale. It had been an unusually good haul today—but as his dust-encrusted boot caught on a rock and he stumbled to regain his balance, he wondered if maybe he’d celebrated a little too hard. But celebrations were something that came few and far between for him. Most days he was happy just to be alive.

Changes

by Kat Heckenbach -

Tomika sat on the couch, knees bent, calves tucked under her. She leaned back and released a sigh as she stared at the object in her palm.

Despite numerous scratches, the metal spearhead glinted in the overhead light. Its edges were chipped and worn, but the tip was honed to a point that had nearly gouged Tomika’s hand as she’d pulled the spearhead from the chunk of beetle meat she’d brought home from the market.

Most of the scratches were merely evidence of use. All but the name etched in the center of one side.

Mary.

A common name. Too common to mean anything. Except the way it was written… in all capitals, with the “A” made from one fluid stroke so that it looked almost like a star. The same way Mary’s husband Jax wrote the “A” in his own name. Tomika had seen it enough times on Jax’s artwork—carvings done on polished squares of beetle shell—to know it couldn’t be someone else’s writing.

This changes everything.

Jax was supposed to be dead. So how was there a spearhead with his wife’s name on it sitting in her hand?

A spearhead…

Beeping snapped Tomika out of her thoughts. She lifted her head and looked at the vidscreen on the far wall. The name “X. Chambers” flashed in the corner of the screen. Tomika tapped her finger against her leg. If she didn’t answer, Xavia would just keep calling. She leaned forward and dropped the spearhead into the basket sitting on the coffee table so it wouldn’t be visible to the camera, then sat back up.

“Answer,” she said.

Xavia’s image appeared on the vidscreen. “Tomi, why haven’t you called? I thought we were meeting for lunch today.” She sat cross-legged in a hoverchair, a gold anklet flashing reflected light as she tapped her foot against nothing.

Right. Lunch. She’d forgotten. “Sorry, Xav, can’t make it today. I’m not feeling well.”

Xavia leaned forward. “You do look rather puny. Was it the meat you bought? It was bad, wasn’t it? I tried to tell you…the stuff they sell down on that level is poor quality. The higher the level, the higher the quality—you should know that by now. It’s why we pay what we do for these apartments. Next time—”

“Listen, Xav, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later. Maybe we’ll do lunch tomorrow. Say hi to the girls for me. End connection.”
The vidscreen shut off just as Xavia’s mouth opened. Tomika raked her fingers through her hair, and pulled the long, black tresses forward over her left shoulder. She smiled as she thought of Xavia’s words. Yep, Xav, the meat was bad…

A spearhead.

Jax was alive, and bug hunting. Which meant his death had been faked. It was the only explanation. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Jax was the first to be arrested, and then every last “business partner” of his gets busted. He must have made a deal. A deal that meant banishment from the station to the planet below—leaving Mary with three kids to care for, and another on the way, all thinking he was dead. Tomika didn’t know how the girl had handled it.

Or…did Mary know?

Tomika jumped up from the couch and plucked the spearhead out of the basket. She grabbed a towel from the kitchen, carefully wrapped the spearhead, and slipped it into her bag.

#

Tomika’s footsteps echoed off the metal walls of the curved corridor. The electric hum of Avenir’s core didn’t travel to Tomika’s upper level, but she could detect it faintly here on Mary’s. She stopped and placed her thumb on the scanner by Mary’s door. Her heart pounded, and she fidgeted with the silver ring on her right hand while she waited for Mary to answer.

The door slid open. Mary stood in the entryway, a sleeping newborn in her arms.

“Tomika, wow. When the vidscreen showed it was you at the door…”

“I know—it’s been a while. I’m sorry. I should have called first.” Tomika shifted her weight. What was she doing? She couldn’t have had worse timing. “I’ll come back later…”

“No, it’s fine. Come on in. Jacey will be sleeping for a while.” Mary stepped back to make room for Tomika to enter. Tomika followed her inside, the door sliding shut behind them. They took seats in hoverchairs facing each other. Mary began to rock hers.

Tomika smiled. “Jacey…what a pretty name.”

Mary lowered her gaze to the sleeping infant and ran her fingertips over the peach fuzz on the top of Jacey’s head. “I named her after Jax, of course. It’s not fair that he never got to know about her.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

Mary looked up, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “I was planning to…the night he…” She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. “He was supposed to be coming home that night, to await trial.”

Tomika stared at Mary. The unfinished sentence…the night he…echoed in her mind. Would that last word have been “died”—or something else? Disappeared. Left. Did Mary know the truth? Was she simply upset that Jax was sent away before she had a chance to tell him, or did she really believe him to be dead?

Tomika struggled for a way to find out. It had been a few months since she’d last seen Mary, their friendship decaying in the wake of all Mary was going through. Tomika’s own life had gone on as usual, and the rift that formed between them seemed impossible to repair. Her mind refocused on the spearhead in her bag.

This changes everything.

Mary wiped her eyes and pulled Jacey close, kissing the tiny forehead. “She looks just like him.”

“I bet that would make him happy to hear,” Tomika said.

“It would.” Mary laughed. “He always griped that none of our kids looked like his side of the family—as if my genes had somehow taken over. Well, he finally got his way.”

They talked about everything, including Jax, but the conversation never took a turn toward anything Tomika could use. Still, their hoverchairs eased closer as they continued to talk, and the rift in their friendship seemed to shrink as well. Soon, Tomika’s chair was touching Mary’s, and she stared down into Jacey’s face.

“You want to hold her?”

Tomika looked up and smiled at Mary. “Yeah…actually, I do.”

Mary shifted her chair around to face Tomika and eased Jacey into Tomika’s arms. The baby’s head lay in the crook of Tomika’s elbow. So small, so soft. Innocent.

Jax had not been innocent, but apparently he’d done the right thing in the end. Tomika wondered how Mary felt, either way. If Mary knew Jax was still alive, did it make her angry that he’d given up his family?

Tomika mustered her resolve. She needed to find out…but how? She looked at Mary, who’d leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Mary’s eyes fought to stay open.

“Mary, why don’t you go take a nap? I’ll sit here with Jacey.”

Mary glanced down at her watch. “Well, there’s still some time before the kids get home from school. Wake me in fifteen minutes?”

Tomika nodded. Mary slipped out the hoverchair and smiled down at Jacey before disappearing into the bedroom. As soon as the door slid shut behind Mary, Tomika stood. Jacey nestled securely in her arms, Tomika walked through the living area and scanned for anything lying around that might clue her in to what Mary knew.

The apartment was neat, with just enough mess to show that kids made their home here. A stray toy lay on the floor, and the outer wall was smudged with little fingerprints. Tomika stepped in front of the wide porthole on the far wall of the main living area. Stars twinkled through the misty glow of red light that reflected from Eclectia, although the planet itself wasn’t visible from this side of the station.

Tomika turned and gazed around the room once more, eyeing open surfaces. She told herself she would not snoop…not really…no opening drawers, no peeking behind cabinet doors…

She walked toward a desk that hugged the wall next to Mary’s bedroom door. Sleek squares were stacked on top—but as Tomika reached the desk she saw that they were carvings made not by Jax, but Mary’s children. She let out a sigh and leaned against the wall. Jacey wiggled in her arms, smacked her tiny lips, but didn’t wake.

A muffled noise carried through the wall. Tomika pressed her ear against the hard, polymer structure and listened.

Sobbing.

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. Tears burned behind her lids. She eased one hand out from under Jacey, shifting the baby’s weight so she stayed secure, and reached up to wipe the tears away. Her elbow bumped something sticking out from the wall, and Mary’s sobs came louder and more clearly. Tomika opened her eyes, stifling a gasp, and looked at the button she’d hit with her elbow. Of course, the intercom.

She reached out to turn it off, but her hand stopped mid-way when she heard Mary say Jax’s name. It came out muffled, but this time as if her face were pushed into her pillow.

“Why, Jax? Why did you have to leave us?”

Tomika held her breath, hand still poised in mid-air.

“I miss you, Jax…I miss you so much….”

Tomika swallowed and then snapped the intercom off. Jacey began to squirm in her arms, and Tomika turned and walked back to the hoverchair, where she sat and rocked until Jacey settled down.

Moments later, Mary’s bedroom door slid open. Her eyes were red, but tearless. She smiled weakly. “Is she still sleeping?”

Tomika nodded. “Yeah, but only just. I think she wants her momma.”

Mary smiled genuinely this time and walked over to Tomika. She eased the baby from Tomika’s arms. “Ah…not momma she wants. More like a new diaper. Wait here while I change her?”

Tomika shook her head as she stood. “No, I should be going. Xav is pretty peeved at me for skipping out on lunch today. Maybe I can catch the girls before they leave the club.”

“Well…” Mary shifted Jacey to one arm, then reached out and touched Tomika’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you came by. Next time, don’t take so long.”

Tomika wrapped her arms around Mary and the baby. “You bet.” She let go and backed up. “Now go clean up that little peanut. I’ll let myself out.”

Mary bobbed her head in a slight nod. “Thanks.” She turned and walked toward the children’s room. The sound of Mary’s footsteps told Tomika she was far from the open door. Tomika crept into Mary’s bedroom, where she pulled out the spearhead and unwrapped it from the towel.

She set the spearhead on Mary’s nightstand.

“He misses you, too, Mary.”

With that, she left Mary’s and headed back to her life. But today had changed everything.

Missed Lift

by Kat Heckenbach -

The lift doors shut with a quiet hiss as Robynn watched the man—‘droid?—disappear around a corner at the other end of the corridor. She shook her head and jabbed the touch panel again, angry that she’d gotten so distracted and now had to wait on another lift when someone could come by at any moment and throw a fit about her being where she didn’t belong.

Angrier that Denton and Strand had abandoned her…

Angriest because she knew she didn’t dare say a word to them about it. She needed their protection. They were the toughest urchins she knew, besides Ave. But Ave couldn’t be around all the time to stop them—or anyone else—from picking on Robynn. Better to befriend the bullies than be bullied by them. It was a matter of survival.

Tears burned her eyes and she chewed at her lip. It wasn’t her fault she had no home, no parents. So why did she have to be treated like a stray dog?

The metal wall in front of her hummed, and a ping sounded with each change of number above the door. The lift was close. Robynn shifted her weight nervously from one leg to the other. Hurry up, hurry up…

And then movement caught in the corner of her eye. She snapped her head to the side, expecting to see a grown-up, someone ready to scream at her (filthy little urchin!), and threaten to call Level Security. But it was a boy, crossing past the end of the corridor.

She stepped away from the lift doors just as they opened and jogged along the edge of the wall. When she reached the end, she peeked around the corner.

He snuck along, glancing side to side, like he was playing “secret agent.” His clothes were clean, his hair trimmed, and he’d gained a few pounds, but Robynn still recognized him.

Gavin.

What was he doing here? Ave had told Robynn…well, something. It was always something. Excuses for why Gavin never seemed to be around.

Robynn skulked along the adjacent corridor, following as Gavin rounded the next corner. He stopped in front of a door and she ducked behind a support column, pressing her cheek against the cold metal.

The door opened, and Gavin stepped through. A man’s hushed voice said, “You weren’t followed?”

“No, sir.”

“You’re sure? There were some kids poking around earlier.”

“No, sir.”
A grunt, and then the man leaned his head and shoulders out the door, facing away from Robynn. She held her breath as he turned in her direction. It took everything she had not to gasp. It was him—the ‘droid!

Finding Freedom

by Kat Heckenbach -


“Piper, wait up!”

The voice echoed off the metal walls of the corridor behind her, distorted by the faint mechanical hum that filled this level. Piper stopped walking and turned around. Nik was jogging toward her, face solemn.

Piper spun on her heel and continued walking away from him. Why had she bothered stopping? Jerk.

“Piper, please! I’m sorry!”

Yeah, right. Her eyes burned suddenly, and she strained, willing tears not to form.

In moments she felt the heat of his presence behind her, matching her pace. His words came nearly breathless. “Please stop. I didn’t mean it.”

Piper inhaled, clenching her fists at her side. “Too little, too late, Nik.”

“I was just teasing. I didn’t know it meant so much to you. It’s just a rodent.”

Piper slammed to a stop and rounded to face Nik. “Not ‘it’ you heartless slug! He! And he is my best friend!” Her heart pounded, sending her pulse thrumming in her ear. Tears pushed past her lids against her will, but she ignored them.

Nik’s brows knitted together and he lifted his arms as if wanting to reach out to her. But he pulled them back and crossed them in front of his chest. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. I came to help you find him.”

Piper searched his eyes and found genuine concern. She closed her eyes and nodded. Then warmth infused her as she felt his arms wrap around her shoulders. She sank into him, resting her head against his chest. “Thank you.”

He rubbed her back and she pulled away from him. He smiled down at her, his hair slipping out from behind his ear and hanging in front of one eye like a black curtain.

Piper took Nik’s hand and led him down the corridor. Tara had said she’d seen something small and brown skitter across the floor in an area just around the corner only twenty minutes ago. They reached the juncture and Piper let go of Nik’s hand. She dropped to her hands and knees. A shuffling thunk told her Nik had joined her.

They crawled around, peeking into any gaps in the metal walls, snaking around support beams.

“Here, Piper…” Nik’s whispered voice was filled with excitement.

Piper snapped her head to the side and saw Nik kneeling in front of a gap between wall panels, arms stretched out to his sides. She scooted over to him and peeked over his shoulder.

“Freedom! There you are!” She pushed past Nik and scooped the brown, furry bundle into her palms. No more than six inches from nose to the base of his tail, Freedom perched on his back legs, whiskers twitching. His long, slender tail wrapped around her fingers.

Piper touched her nose to the tiny pink one.

Nik chuckled. “You know, he’s actually kinda cute.”

Piper turned to him and smiled. “He’s the best.”

Nik bit his lip as his eyes shadowed. “He’s from the planet, isn’t he?”

Piper swallowed and looked away. Was she ready to tell him everything? Indecision roiled inside her as Nik moved closer.

“We’ve been together for seven months, Piper. I’ve never asked you about your past.”

She forced out, “I know.”

He waited in silence. She felt his gaze, imagined him staring at her profile. She closed her eyes.

“He’s from the planet, yes. So am I. My mom died when I was young. My dad was a bug hunter. He was killed. I was alone…starving. Pretty soon the traffickers had their eye on me. I couldn’t bear the thought of ending up someone’s…” Her voice cracked, but she steeled herself and continued. “I stowed away on a cargo shuttle from the planet to Avenir.”

Nik’s hand touched her shoulder…the gentlest touch she’d ever felt besides Freedom’s nuzzling. She realized tears were streaming down her cheeks. They dripped off her chin and landed on her open hands, on Freedom.

“Was he your pet while you lived down there?”

She shook her head. “I found him at the loading dock. I was sneaking around, trying to figure out how to get into the shuttle. I’d set my pack down—my last piece of lavabread was in the pocket. Freedom snatched it and ran off with it. I chased him.” Piper smiled at the memory and stroked Freedom’s fur. She raised her eyes to meet Nik’s gaze. “He led me to the rear hatch, and then straight to the perfect hiding place.”

Nik stared, amazement shimmering in his blue eyes. “So that’s why his name’s Freedom? Because—” He stopped, as if the next word had caught in his throat, and then looked down at the brown rodent in Piper’s hands and smiled.

Blink

by Kat Heckenbach -

Robynn walked behind Denton and Strand, her arms crossed and shoulders hunched, peeking between their heads. If she wasn’t so tall for her age, she’d be terrified of the two older boys. But she passed herself off as older so they wouldn’t bully her like the other kids. Instead, they took her in, treating her almost like an equal. Almost.

She glanced around, nervous. They shouldn’t be in this corridor—urchins didn’t even belong on this level, where the rich lived and didn’t want to be reminded of the poor and homeless. If anyone saw them they’d probably be accused, and convicted, of stealing—even without evidence.

She should just turn around, slip back to the lift and go down to their own level. Who cares what they have to show me…it can’t be that big a deal…

Denton and Strand stopped suddenly, and Robynn nearly slammed into Denton’s back.

“There he is.” Denton cocked his head slightly to the left where a man walked toward them. Robynn sucked in a breath and pushed against the wall behind the boys.

“You really think he’s a ’droid?” Strand whispered, face turned so Robynn saw his profile. His eyes were wide.

Denton nodded. “Gotta be.”

Robynn bit down on her lip. The man was getting close now—why weren’t they leaving? Her stomach twisted as she willed herself to meld into the metal wall.

And then she noticed…the man wasn’t even looking at them. He was only a couple of yards away. He should’ve been glaring at them, calling to have them hauled off. But he just stared forward, until he stepped up next to them.

The man turned slowly—stiffly—toward them. Robynn ducked her head behind the boys like a turtle pulling into its shell.

“Are you lost?” the man asked. There was something odd about his voice…

Robynn sucked on her lip. Could it be? Was Denton right?

“No, sir,” Denton said. “We’re just heading back to our rooms.”

The man’s head tilted to the side, and then he gave a courteous nod. “Well, then, get going.” He stared as if waiting for them to move. Robynn noticed he didn’t blink.

Denton and Strand looked at each other, their faces straining as if holding back laughter, and then they moved forward, exposing Robynn.

She froze. The boys kept walking farther away, but she couldn’t make her feet move, or make her gaze break from the man’s face.

He leaned in, hands on his knees, and whispered. “Don’t worry, I won’t report you. Get back to your level, though, before someone else sees you.” His lips curled into a friendly smile. “Oh, and I’d make some new friends. Those boys aren’t too bright. They wouldn’t know a ’droid if it hit them in the face.”

“So you’re not?” The words slipped out before Robynn could stop them, and she bit her lip again.

“Of course not. I heard them whispering halfway down the corridor…and I’m just having a little fun with it.” His eyes narrowed, and he patted her shoulder. “You believe me, right? Ever heard of a ‘droid with a sense of humor? It’s not exactly something you can install.” He winked and straightened up.

Robynn relaxed, and nodded at the man. Then she headed down the corridor toward the lift. She stopped and hit the button. The doors to the lift opened, but Robynn didn’t step inside. She gazed down the corridor where the man had been standing…where he’d spoken to her, and smiled, and winked…

…but not once had he blinked.

Words

by Kat Heckenbach -

Gavin stood next to the wizard—gotta stop thinking that…he says he don’t mind, but if I slip up and say it out there he could get busted—who wiped his hand on his already smudged lab coat. Thick, black bangs hung in his eyes as he peered into a bubbling test tube. And he keeps tellin’ me I need a haircut.

The table in front of them was covered with odd-looking equipment that whispered with ticks and whirs. Shiny steel and tarnished brass competed for dominance between modern technology and—what’s that word Ave told me once…oh, yeah—Victorian.

“Dr. Spiner, tell me again why you use this old stuff? It looks archaic.”

The man peeked out from behind his bangs and gave the strange smile he always did when Gavin used words for older people.

“Newer isn’t always better, son. Especially when you’re studying things of such antiquity.” The wiz—scientist winked and looked back at the table, then reached for a spindly metal contraption without further explanation.

Antiquity was the kind of word no one but Ave would use when speaking to him, at least not without patting him on the head and giving him a dumbed-down definition. But Dr. Spiner had trusted him to understand. Gavin bit his lip to stop the grin that wanted to push his cheeks out with pride.

And then, as he climbed onto a stool for a better view, he realized Dr. Spiner had used another word no one had ever spoken to him before. A word that made his eyes burn pleasantly with tears.

Son.

Delivery

by Kat Heckenbach -

Mary curled forward and squeezed with every muscle in her body. Her neck strained. A scream caught in her throat…escaped as a grunt.

And then release.

The pressure eased, and her muscles slid from her bones as she rolled back until her head smacked softly on the pillow. The distant cry of her newborn daughter was barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

Movement appeared, fuzzy, in her periphery. The fuzziness cleared and became a smiling, blonde nurse, with a nametag that read Amelia.

“She’s beautiful, Mary. They’re nearly done with the scan.”

Amelia barely had the words out when another nurse strode over to the delivery table. The woman’s face stretched under the force of severely pinned-back gray hair. She slapped a printout into Amelia’s hand and stalked off.

Amelia rolled her eyes, and then gazed at the paper. Her smile broadened. “Perfect, Mary. Not a single significant genetic fault. Your daughter is going to be smart and beautiful. Your husband…would be proud.” Amelia’s voice quivered, and Mary felt the gentle pressure of the nurse’s hand on her shoulder.

Mary nodded, and choked back a sob. Jax would have been proud no matter what. If only I’d had a chance to tell him he was going to be a father again.

Never Again

by Kat Heckenbach -

Xavia fanned herself with her outspread hand and groaned. “Is it always so hot on this level?” Her jeweled bracelets clinked softly in rhythm with the movement of her arm. She wrinkled her nose as she scanned the marketplace around her. Bare metal, garish lighting. Commoners scuttling around the meatmongers’ stands like the beetles whose meat they were there to purchase. “Why did I let you talk me into this, Tomi?”

Tomika rolled her eyes and tucked a tress of long black hair behind her ear. “Aren’t you at all curious about what goes on down here? Where things come from? How they get here?”

“Not at all,” Xavia said as they shuffled forward with the crowd. “As long as it’s on my plate and cooked the way I ask…which reminds me, I need to put in an official complaint about the chef at—”

A scream broke the surrounding chatter, and Xavia clamped her hand onto Tomika’s arm. “What’s going on?”

The mass of people in front of them shifted, but Xavia could see nothing except their backs.

Tomika pulled free of Xavia’s grasp and climbed up on a bench, her high heels ringing the metal seat. She peered over the crowd and then stepped down. “Looks like a gang fight at the other end.”

“You’re kidding me! On our level something like that would never—”

The crowd suddenly surged back, forcing Xavia and Tomika against the table behind them. Xavia reached back to steady herself, and swallowed a scream of revulsion as her hand slid into something firm but…slimy.

She lifted her hand and turned around. A beetle the size of a dinner plate lay on its back, legs splayed. Its belly was pried open, revealing a swell of glistening pink flesh.

“Ugh, oh, Tomi…I knew they were big, but…”

“Xav…” Tomika’s voice came from behind Xavia’s left shoulder. “That one’s just a baby.”

Xavia spun to face her friend and narrowed her eyes. “Take me home.”

Midnight Song

by Kat Heckenbach -


“Sir, they’re singing.”

Spiner looked up from his lab table and found the boy staring through the tiny porthole into the pitch black of space. Surely he’d heard wrong…

“Singing, Gavin? What are you talking about?”

Gavin tilted his head to the side, but didn’t answer.

Spiner propped his chin on steepled hands and stared at the young apprentice. The boy’s freshly cut hair held the slightest curl at the back of his neck. His shirt still hung like a sack on his wiry frame despite weeks of eating four full meals a day. Fortunately he devoured knowledge as easily as he did food and had proven very quickly that Spiner made the right decision by taking him in.

Gavin sighed and turned around. “It’s stopped now.”

Spiner shook his head. “What—?”

“The sea angels,” Gavin said. “The ones Ave told me about, down on the planet. I felt it the other day, but didn’t know where it was coming from. But just now, I realized, it’s them. Not singing with sounds…” He bit his lip, and searched Spiner’s face with his gaze. Finally, his eyes brightened. “They sing emotions. They were singing…joy.”

The Trade

by Kat Heckenbach -

Jax crouched behind the rock, sweat dripping down his back. His hand twitched around the spear held tight against his shoulder. The familiar click-click was getting louder quickly; the bug was close.

He stiffened and adjusted his grip on the spear as he anticipated the appearance of the beast. When it sensed his presence, it would rise up on enormous black legs, giant pincers threatening. But the triangular section of tender underbelly would be exposed—for one critical moment. Jax breathed deeply to calm himself.

Nothing had quite prepared him for the life of a bug hunter. Back home on Avenir he’d been a businessman. Suits, ties, meetings with people of power. People with the kind of power he wanted, so much so that he’d been willing to do anything…

Even putting his family in danger.

Then that morning came. The enforcers barreled through his front door, and Jax was dragged out of his home, hands and legs shackled. The anger in his wife’s eyes had hurt. The fear in his children’s eyes had nearly killed him.

He didn’t have to think twice about the offer from the government. Tell all about everyone he’d been involved with, every detail of their crimes, and be set free on Eclectia. His death was faked to take his accomplices off his trail. Of course it meant giving up his family, but it ensured their safety.

The clicking intensified, jarring Jax out of his thoughts. Every muscle in his body tensed.

A roar erupted from the other side of the rock. Jax counted, one, two, three… He jumped to his feet and aimed as the creature reared up. The spear left his hand, arced over the rock…whoosh…and lodged into the exposed flesh. The giant beetle screeched and dropped straight down, shaking the earth beneath Jax’s feet.

He stared as the beautiful, dying beast twitched, its legs curling and scraping the rocky ground. Then he lifted his gaze skyward, tears burning the corners of his eyes.

Apprentice

by Kat Heckenbach -

The sight of the boy huddled in the corner stopped Spiner in his tracks. If he were caught following up on the illegal experiment…

He slipped behind a support column. He couldn’t chance anyone seeing him, not even a homeless child. But pity tugged at his heart as he watched the tattered urchin pull scabbed knees to a skeletal chest. Tears streaked through grime on the boy’s cheeks. Spiner leaned his forehead against the cool metal beam.

“You can come out, sir. It’s okay.” The boy’s voice squeaked mouse-like. He couldn’t have been more than seven years old.

Spiner stepped out into the corridor and walked softly toward the boy. He knelt down as the boy wiped away tears with the back of his hand. “Are you hungry?”

The boy nodded but didn’t meet Spiner’s gaze. “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, even if you don’t feed me,” he said.

“I appreciate that.” Spiner reached out and brushed a string of blond hair away from the boy’s eyes. “You know what I am?”

“A wizard, sir.” He lifted his head, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like being called that, but I mean no disrespect.”

Was he only seven then? Such a big word for a little boy.

“No worries, kid. I’ve no apologies for my beliefs.”

“I believe, too,” the boy said. “I-I want to learn.”

Spiner studied the boy’s face. Intelligent eyes. The eyes of a survivor. He whispered, “You’d like to be an apprentice?”

The boy’s “yes” was barely audible.

Spiner leaned in. “Let’s go. Food first, and then some lessons.”

One corner of the boy’s mouth tugged up into a half-smile as hope sparked in his eyes.