Hybrid: The New Dawn: Book 4

By Valerie J Mikles

All she wanted was to save her brother...

... she wasn’t prepared to lose her entire city.

Could Liza's telepathic powers be harnessed for good, or would she only ever be a weapon of war?
Growing up, big brother Kerris was all she had. He was a telekinetic superhero who took care of her when they lost their parents, made her laugh, and kept her safe. He’d made the mistake of under-estimating how deadly she was before, so when the spaceship came, he didn’t want her anywhere near it.

But Liza had brought the ship. For him.

The arrival of Oriana has given her a new chance to make things right. There were people like them on board – people with hybrid powers. And she was desperate to learn how to control her destructive power.

So with a few telepathic interviews...

... she found something she never expected.

It was her turn to save her brother.

You will love this sci-fi adventure, because even a weapon of war deserves a shot at redemption.
Get it now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Valerie J Mikles
• Release date: May 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370486649

Valerie J Mikles

I'm an aromantic, asexual, agender person who is currently using she/her pronouns. Writing has given me the opportunity to discover and represent so many identities, and in turn find myself. I feel like diverse identities should exist in literature without being a central aspect of the plot. I have created several short films about asexuality, inspired by my own journey to self-discovery. Learn more about my creative side and my writing at http://www.valeriejmikles.comI'm also a PhD astronomer and former black hole hunter. I defected from academia and currently work for NOAA as a Senior Systems Engineer on a polar-orbiting weather satellite. My motto in life is that I can be everything I want, just not all at the same time

Book preview

The attic was dank and moldy, the floorboards rotting on one side, having never dried out after a water pipe burst eight years ago. An old service bot had fallen through the attic floor, breaking the privacy blind on the floating bed in the room below. The house hadn't been looted since the owner died at the hand of his own nurse bot who still lurked on the lower level. The people of Boone called this the ghost house. The doors and windows seemed to open of their own accord, and no amount of boards nailed over the entrance could keep out adventurous and bored children.

Earlier that morning, a teenage girl climbed through the second story window on a dare, and fell through the rotting floor. She swore that an angel grabbed her hand and slowed her fall. She ran out the front door of the house on her own two feet, her screams of panic drowning out the cries for help coming from the attic.

Kerris Abell was not an angel, and he knew when the girl's story got back to his captors, he'd be in trouble. It didn't matter that he'd saved a life and failed to reveal his presence. The Praet wanted to control his telekinetic ability and use him as a weapon. The fact that he refused to help them but had helped the girl would give rise to new punishment. Though only twelve, Kerris knew more about politics and human ruthlessness than men three times his age. From birth, he'd been different. He cried and the walls shook. His powers were impossible for his parents to hide. Three days ago, a foul smelling gas was pumped into Kerris' schoolroom and he'd woken up here.

The wall that Kerris was chained to had been reinforced with wood and stone so that he couldn't escape again. His arms were shackled over his head, his toes barely reaching the ground, and the Praet would leave him hanging for hours. But when they came back, he'd be giving his arms a rest, standing on a chair or a box—bits of furniture that had not been in the attic, and sometimes not even in the house before. Today, he'd found a decommissioned janitor droid strong enough to support his weight and flat enough to be comfortable. If it fit through that hole in the attic floor, Kerris could lift it. That was the power the Praet wanted to hone.

The door opened and Kerris remained completely still, legs crossed, back to the wall. He glared accusingly at the silhouette of his captor. Despite the bright light flooding in through the door, he was determined not to look away. He kept note of where his captor tucked the keys to the shackles, but Kerris wasn't yet skilled enough to pick a pocket, even if he was staring directly at his target. The Praet wouldn't train him until they'd broken his will to escape.

It was too soon for his next meal, and Kerris assumed they'd come to punish him for saving the girl. The burly guard, Garrison, knocked the droid out from under Kerris and smacked him across the face with his exoskeleton-reinforced fist. Kerris flexed his arms, trying to control his fall. The shackles dug into his wrists, and he clenched his jaw, trying to block out the pain and find the floor.

This is not meant to be your palace, Garrison growled, kicking the droid through the hole in the floor, laughing as the machine cracked open on impact. He pointed at the droid, then fired a disintegrator that was mounted into his enhanced arm. You use your power to bring this droid to you, but you can't get free. You are useless.

Kerris sneered, a snarky comeback on the tip of his tongue; then he noticed the second guard in the doorway with a new prisoner slung over his shoulders—his sister, Liza! The second guard was a slight man whose name Kerris had never caught. Garrison had any number of derogatory names for the man, but Kerris called him Dillweed, because of his foul smell.

What's that one do? Garrison asked.

This one's a memory extraction specialist, Dillweed replied, dumping Liza on the floor, hammering new shackles onto the wall. Dillweed also had mechanically enhanced arms and drove in the heavy-duty stakes with a single whack.

A mind reader? I hate those, Garrison spat.

Not present thoughts. Memories. Listen, dumbass! Dillweed smirked.

You must know her, Garrison said, his dark eyes glistening with malice.

Kerris shook his head.

Never seen you tongue-tied boy, Garrison jeered, grabbing Kerris' jaw and jostling him until his chains clinked and he could barely keep his toes on the ground. Garrison gave Kerris a swift kick in the gut, making Kerris' legs buckle. He fell until the chains jerked him back, nearly yanking his arms out of socket.

Concentrating hard, Kerris brushed the tufts of red hair from Liza's face. He gave her a mental hug and she whimpered. Her clothing was rumpled, but not torn. Her feet weren't bound, but the tiny eight-year-old was too little to outrun two soldiers in exoskeletons.

The sound of her crying got Dillweed's attention. Scooping Liza off the floor, Dillweed carried her to the new prison and chained her to the wall, being frighteningly gentle with her. She didn't kick or scream; he had her scared silent. Kerris wanted to kick and shout, but if he started, the guards would only stay longer.

Is she stirring your memories, boy? Garrison asked, noticing Kerris' attention on her. Kerris backed away, making a show of falling off his feet again.

She's stirring mine, Dillweed growled.

Don't touch her! Kerris shouted, shoving Dillweed as hard as he could with his mind. His telekinetic power didn't give him additional strength so Kerris made a grab for the soft tissue. Dillweed screeched and dropped to his knees, but couldn't fight a phantom fist.

Ooh, Garrison cackled. We might have found the motivation we need to activate this weapon.

Easy for you to say. He nearly ripped my jewels off, Dillweed whimpered, covering his crotch protectively.

That's nothing compared to what she might do, Garrison said, nodding toward Liza. Memory manipulator? She'll put things in your head that make you want to rip your eyes out. That's what these Panoptica do. They're weapons; not people. And those who don't make themselves useful will be slaughtered with the rest of the Xentu.

He addressed the last threat toward Kerris, daring him to strike out again. Then, with a malicious sneer, Garrison turned on his heels, grabbing Dillweed by the collar, and dragging him from the room.

Liza? Kerris whispered as soon as the door was closed. The only light in the room now leaked up through that hole in the floor.

Liza curled into a ball, burying her face in her elbow. Her chains were generously long enough so that she wasn't left hanging like he was. Her little fingers closed around one of the chains and her whole body quaked.

They chained me up. They think I'm like you.

I'm sorry, Kerris said. It took him a moment to realize she'd spoken the words directly into his mind rather than using verbal communication. Projecting thoughts was a skill they'd practiced, but he wasn't good at it. For him, the challenge was building a sufficient mental shield to block her from reading his mind. If his thoughts weren't in turmoil by her arrival, he'd have let those shields down so they could have a non-verbal conversation. He didn't want her to see what pain the Praet had caused him with their physical abuse. Can you talk?

They killed mommy and daddy, she said, projecting the memory at him in concert with the words. Kerris winced, bringing up a mental shield to stop her, but he still saw and felt everything. Dillweed's mechanical hand clamped around Liza's jaw, forcing her to watch the execution. Their father's severed head rolled to Dillweed's feet and he stamped the skull, spattering blood on Liza's skin.

Did they hurt you? he asked, afraid to know the answer.

They chained me up.

I know, Kerris said.

Can you get us out?

I need a key. They figured out I can't trip locks on my own, Kerris said, fidgeting helplessly. He could push, pull, and move things, but some tasks required a tool, and he couldn't conjure those with his mind.

The guard has a key. He can get us out of here, Liza said, lifting her tear-stained face. Kerris was relieved to see she wasn't physically injured.

Only if he's on our side, Kerris frowned. If Dillweed were an ally, he wouldn't have smacked Kerris around in private. I can't make him give us the key. Can you?

He'll help us, Liza insisted, crawling closer to Kerris. I know he will. He keeps thinking about it—about taking me out of here to some place quiet and safe, where he can hug me, give me new clothes, and tell me not to cry.

Kerris' blood ran cold. That's not what he's thinking about.

I see it!

What you see is what grown men do to hurt little girls, Kerris said, stumbling over the words. There were horrors he didn't want to explain to her, and if his mental shields faltered for a moment, she'd know anyway. Trust me, Liza. I'm your brother. I will keep you safe.

You can't even unchain me, she complained, hugging her knees and pouting.

Kerris cringed at the insult. He was just a boy, but he should have been able to protect his baby sister. He'd seen the way Dillweed looked at her, and Liza's insight only confirmed his fear.

Do you remember what Mom and Dad taught us? Do you remember how to fight with your mind? he asked.

I can't do it, Liza moaned.

Kerris bit his cheek. Liza was a memory reader and she could no more fight than a toddler could cook, but triggering the right memory could cripple even the strongest person.

Don't let the Praet win, Liza. We are not weapons of war. When the guards come in here, you have to fight as hard as you can, he said.

Liza whimpered and reached out to him, but his chains were tighter than hers, and he couldn't close the gap. His arms ached from being stretched over his head, and his legs hurt from standing on tip-toe.

Is there anyone you can reach for help? Kerris asked. He could create a commotion to draw the Praet away, but it wouldn't do much good if they were still chained here.

Everyone I can talk to with my mind was captured. We were the last ones free, she said. There were less than a hundred natural born Panoptica in Boone, captured by the Praet and selectively bred to draw out paranormal powers.

But are they alive? he asked. Tell me what you see.

Sighing, Liza closed her eyes and concentrated. Her fingers extended, and her breathing settled. Before she could say anything, the door opened, and Dillweed came in, leering. Kerris tensed, expecting a brutal beating for what he'd done. Expecting Liza to be forced to watch. He didn't want Liza to see the way the man pounded him, but he also didn't want Dillweed touching her. Liza screamed when Dillweed looked at her. Kerris felt a short burst of mental energy ripping through his mind, but the slam barely fazed the guard.

Extending his spirit hands, Kerris pushed with all his might. He was still a child throwing his weight against a grown man, but the impact got Dillweed's attention. Kerris felt another burst of mental energy, and then there was a massive explosion. A shockwave hit, followed by a deafening blare, and his body flew through the air at the force of the explosion.

When Kerris lifted his head, he was lying under a pile of ash and dust. His hands and feet were shackled, but the wall was gone. The stone foundation and stairway still stood, and a legion of battle droids were lined in the exposed basement, deactivated and powdered with dust. Everything was deathly quiet. Liza prodded him worriedly, and he wondered if her ears were ringing as much as his.

Two exoskeletons were strewn on the stairs. Kerris picked up the metal arm that had once enhanced Garrison's strength. There was no blood, and no trace of anything human. Kerris clicked open the compartment that held the keys, and removed the shackles from his wrists and feet. His skin was red and bleeding. He released Liza next, then picked her up and ran out of the ruins, ignoring the sting of fractured rock on his bare feet.

The shockwave had broken windows and street posts. All the motorcars had stopped in their tracks. Kerris didn't recognize this neighborhood. He'd thought they were in the ghost house, but he couldn't see the orchard trees, and there were no familiar gardens. He ran into a grocery store, but the store was vacant and covered with dust. The place must have been abandoned when the war started. There had to be people somewhere, even if it was more kids vandalizing the vacant lots.

Kerris set his sister down on the cashier's counter and froze. There was a heart carved into the counter—etched by the owner in memory of his wife. Kerris had watched the owner do it just last year.

Where is everybody? Liza asked.

The ringing in his ears subsided at the sound of her timid voice, but he had heard with his physical ears. He could hear the sound of her breath and the rustle of her clothing, but that was it. The world had gone silent.

I don't know, he said, sinking to the ground, his splintered feet throbbing, his mind spinning. Can you read anyone?

Liza closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her fingers extended, her breath hitching with every silent sob. Just you, she said.

Kerris shook his head, his throat getting tight. Liza, what did you do?

Chapter 1

Kerris ran his thumb over the tattoo on his wrist, then pulled his sleeve down to cover the marking. Hooking his water buckets to a wooden yoke, Kerris hefted them onto his shoulders, and trudged across the barren, Boone landscape. He was big enough now to use Garrison's exoskeleton, and with it on, he barely felt the weight of the buckets. Little had changed in the ten years since the disaster. The plants never came back. The animals kept their distance.

Kerris! Liza sang, poking her head through the window of the stone house they squatted in. She climbed out the window when she saw his weepy state. Brother, don't cry. I have exciting news!

Kerris sucked the dry air through his lips, unleashing the tears he'd been holding back. He clung to her more than ever these days, overwhelmed by the betrayal that drove them out the Gavameti tribe—the latest in a long line of nomads who had taken them in and subsequently driven them out. Over the years, they'd stayed fed and clothed, passing themselves off as human and hiding their power. Kerris made sure his sister had a mother figure through most of their teenage years. She'd never grown tall, but when she hugged him, she gave him more strength than the exoskeleton ever could.

Kerris, look, Liza sang, raising her chin, eyes closed, inhaling as though she smelled fresh flowers. The sun made her cheeks glow.

At what? The inside of your eyelids? he sniffled, shrugging off the yoke, being careful not to slosh the water. Liza refused to return to the home they'd grown up in, and he couldn't blame her. Her last memory of the place—seeing their parents slaughtered—haunted him every time he walked past the doorway. They stayed on the opposite side of the Dome, closer to the quarry, where more of the houses were made of stone, and it still looked like a city.

Liza giggled, her eyelids fluttering. The only thing she'd gotten from their mom was her deep, brown eyes. Everything else—the red hair, the round cheeks, and the dimples—was from their dad's side. With his blond hair and blue eyes, Kerris didn't look like anyone in the family, which further drove home the fear that he'd been engineered as Panoptica, not born into his power.

Out there, silly, she said, pointing through one of the cracks in the Dome. The hole was three times larger than a house and had happened some time after the initial disaster while they were away. The crack stretched up to the peak of the Dome and down to ground level, but was widest in the central part. On a clear day, they could see the canopy of the forest peeking over the plateau.

Do you want to take a walk? he asked, bracing himself for an extended conversation. Get your shoes on. I'll pack a snack.

Liza shook her head and sat on the windowsill, closing her eyes and tilting her body back. I see them with my eyes closed, she said, pointing outside. After the destruction of Boone, there was no glass left in the windows. No fabric. No flesh. Just the two of them, and bunch of broken, hollowed houses.

Are the drones buzzing around again? Kerris asked, sitting next to her, his heart twisting with fear. Before the destruction of the city, the Praet had built a prototype drone to detect genetically engineered hybrids. The city's AI had replicated the technology and manufactured dozens, but they were all mixed in with security drones on the outside of the Dome.

It's an airship, she said. Her finger moved back and forth as though tracing its motion through the sky. People talk about them, but I've never seen one up close. I wish they would come here.

Kerris shrugged off his exoskeleton. The fact that Kerris' grief could literally bring down a city made hiding difficult. With the Gavameti, they were close to a normal life. They were old enough to control their emotions, practiced at maintaining calm and leaving no footprint. At least that's what Kerris had thought going in. No, you don't. Liza, we need a break. You read them and you get overwhelmed. Then I get overwhelmed.

It's been three months since we came back. Don't you miss being around people? she asked, touching the tattoo on his wrist. It was a symbol of unity—his marriage to a Gavameti woman. Kerris' grief surged and ripples appeared in the buckets of water.

Accidents happen, Liza insisted. And when we find people like us, they won't drive us away for being what we are.

People like us don't exist in the natural world, Kerris said, watching the airship zig-zag through the sky. The ship disappeared behind a cloud, but Kerris pushed the cloud aside so they could dream a little longer. It doesn't look like they're coming this way.

I'll bring them here for you, Liza offered.

We've tried living with humans, Liza, Kerris sighed. We're here because there's no one here that can hurt us.

That's not my fault! Liza exploded, launching off the sill, kicking up a cloud of dust as she stomped. It's not my fault there's no one left!

Well I didn't do it! Kerris retorted.

If I could obliterate people with my mind, you'd be gone too! Liza shouted.

The mental slam accompanying her outburst felt like a machete ripping through Kerris' brain. He shielded his mind, but the physical force of the blow knocked him flat on his back. A moment later, the pressure lifted. Kerris ran his tongue over the backs of his teeth. He felt the tickle of blood trickling from his nose.

Kerris! Liza cried, scrambling on all fours. Kerris, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you so hard.

She dabbed the blood from his face, then clung to him, crying. He cried too, his anger at the destruction of Boone as fresh as the day it happened.

You said they were going to hurt us, she cried. There's always someone who wants to hurt us.

Not here. Not anymore, he said, taking pity on her. He told himself it was the Praet who did this to them—they forced Liza to defend herself. He could tell himself ten times a day, but he still blamed Liza. More than he should.

I don't want you to be alone, she whispered. Every time they joined a new tribe, she was never content to let him work and earn their keep; she made sure he found friends, family, lovers, or whatever companionship he needed.

Kerris sighed, and looked out at the open sky, daring to dream. The airship was gone—blocked by the wall of the Dome. They were alone.

*~*

Liza paced the street outside her window, barefoot, her eyes going back to that crack that let her glimpse the outside world. An airship was different than a nomadic tribe. An airship could take her places, and she wouldn't be trapped on game trails and in wild groves, her path through the world governed by seasons. They could live in a proper city again—a city like Boone used to be.

Tripping over a greeter bot, she stubbed her toe and hopped in a circle, cursing.

Shoes are required in public roadways, the dull, copper bot said. It was no bigger than a shoebox itself, and she had half a mind to gut it and make it into one.

Then bring me shoes she retorted, hobbling back to her window and examining her toe. Don't have any shoes in the city, do we? No. Supplies are out. Shoes have been ordered. Don't tell me shoes are required and then tell me we have none!

Shoes will be delivered as soon as they are in stock, the bot acknowledged, rolling off on its new errand. Liza rubbed her foot. She had shoes. She'd run from the Gavameti wearing them, and they were in good condition. But she didn't know how long Kerris was going to make them stay in Boone this time, and the painful memory of losing her Gavameti family wasn't worth wearing thin the footwear. But the airship—they would have proper footwear.

There was a trick Liza had been doing since before she could speak—she could enter a mind and see through a person's eyes. It was a delicate process, different from sorting memories, and often more overwhelming as nothing was filtered.

Reaching out her mind, she saw six visitors on the ship, and she found the one at the ship's controls. There was a projection in the Spirit Realm that seemed like it should be coming from the eyes, but Liza couldn't make heads or tails of what she saw. She'd never been on a ship.

Finally, Liza recognized a human face. She must have done something wrong, if she was seeing a face instead of hands. It was a pale woman with brown, wavy hair and bright green eyes. Maybe they were looking into a mirror. The woman had a creepy frown, and it felt like she was staring directly at Liza. Liza tried to see around her. They were in a kitchen with a large window. It didn't look like a ship; it looked like a memory. It looked like one of the houses in Boone, but from years ago before everyone died. There was a table and chairs, and windows made of glass. But outside the window, the land was gray.

You're in my head, the green-eyed woman said.

Liza gasped. Something wasn't right.

You don't belong here. Leave.

A wall formed around Liza, blacking out the view of the woman and the world, but Liza fought to stay connected.

Open your eyes, Liza commanded. Speaking directly into a person's mind rarely worked with common humans. Everyone had their own head language, and while she could understand others with relative ease, other did not tend to understand her. Kerris said it used to be like that with them, but Liza was too young to remember.

This is my space, the woman insisted, giving Liza a stern eyebrow raise.

Come west and find my city, Liza asked, trying to mimic the language she heard. She tried to project an image of Boone, but she did not know what the world looked like from up in the clouds.

I cannot change course, the woman responded. She understood! The black wall came up, dividing them again.

Wait! Liza cried. Are you like me? Is that why we can talk? Please, I want you to come! Show me where you are.

There was a flash of images—a control panel, dials, gauges. Liza couldn't read the writing. It vanished in a puff of smoke.

When the mist cleared, Liza was in a dark cavern. A grotesque beast with the face of a horse, the teeth of a snake, and the body of a man snarled at Liza. It had dark skin, long talons, and leathery wings. The beast dispersed in a flash of light and the green-eyed woman came flying toward Liza. Raising her hands in defense, Liza splayed her talons and snarled. In this realm, she looked more like the beast than the woman, but she'd never fought. There was nothing solid here; only dust and blood.

The green-eyed woman was weak and human in this realm—no claws, no teeth, no wings. With one powerful swipe, Liza ripped off half of the woman's face. The woman cowered, black dust misting from her wound. The image of the dark cavern persisted.

Ruthlessly, Liza dragged her talons across the cave of the wall, kicking up more ashes, dust, and memories of the same. The green-eyed woman did not stop her. Liza did not know if she'd be able to get to the real memories, or see out of this woman's true eyes. She couldn't escape the woman's mind. She was trapped!

Chapter 2

Day 30

My sweet Myung,

Today, I saw both of Aquia's moons in the daytime. One looked pink, the other white. It is so strange to sit out in the open air and not worry about my skin boiling within minutes. I still burn if I stay out more than an hour, and we're out of soothing ointment. My skin heals darker each time.

I can't believe it has been almost a month since I met Sky. Since I learned there is life outside of Rocan. Travel has been slow, but that only means we get to see more of the land and the animals that live on it. Sometimes the ship falls apart, sometimes the people.

I played darts with Sky this morning, which I didn't think she should do, considering that the Drava stabbed her in the gut last week. But she showed me her belly, and there isn't even a scar. Tray says it's part of her alien super-healing power. Everyone tells me he's joking, but as soon as I convince myself I'm traveling with normal humans, they pull some new kind of magic to blow my mind. Tray says he can make my head explode just by staring and I don't want to take any chances.

Love,

Papa

Hawk paused at the bottom of the page and reread his journal entry, using Nolwazi, the ship's computer, to check his translation. He liked to write his letters in his native language of Rocanese first, then translate them into Trade on the facing page. Addressing it as a letter to his stillborn daughter gave him peace. At home, her name was taboo, but on Oriana, he could mourn her. He often wondered if Myung would have inherited his golden skin and lidless eyes. With the name he'd given her, he couldn't imagine her with her mother's fair skin. The more he wrote to her, the more he pictured her as a golden, and the prouder he became of who he was.

What is that? Amanda asked the question in her native language of Lanvarian and Nolwazi translated to Trade a moment later. There were so many languages spoken on the ship, and he and Amanda did not have a common one, so they relied on the wrist-top Virtual Projection Network devices (Virps) they wore to translate.

Amanda sat in the pilot's chair with one hand on the yoke, the other in a sling. Amanda had been in a psychotic rage a few weeks back, and Sky knocked her out. With Amanda's bones weakened by years in lunar gravity, the fall resulted in a break. Even with a broken arm, she flew more smoothly than Hawk. She had a natural sense for air currents and knew how to use the tailwind to her advantage. She said it was like sailing with boats. Her skin had freckled in the sunlight, her frizzy, brown hair bleached with streaks of blonde. She was about five years older than him, but had limited memory of the last ten years of her life, so she often pretended she was still seventeen. When she was sane.

What is what? he asked in Trade. Hawk sat in the captain's chair on the bridge of Oriana, taking in the view from an altitude of four thousand feet. They stopped often to keep the engine from overheating, or when pieces fell off and they needed to retrieve them. The ship spanned three decks. Four, if you counted the Observation Deck, which was barely tall enough to sit up in. It was taller than most buildings, but with its retractable wings, could slide into the larger dome gates, to a point where it was clear to Hawk that the enclosed cities of the planet had been designed to let ships like Oriana inside. Over two-hundred feet from bow-to-stern, it was difficult to find places to land. Having engines and landing gear designed for upward rocket thrust and vertical motion also made their impromptu glide-in landings a challenge.

Last week, the middeck hatch blew out when the ship lost pressure at high altitude. The Captain's brother Tray was nearly sucked out of the shower. His Virp went overboard and Nolwazi sounded an alarm. Danny practically crashed the ship in his hurry to come about and retrieve Tray. They'd set down on the nearest beach, and then Tray came stumbling into the bay in his bathrobe, asking if anyone was hurt. The Captain hugged his brother for a full minute, and it took over a week to repair the hatch. Hawk took advantage of the stop to practice flying his glider while Danny and the others patched over the hatch with bits of metal they sheered off the interior decks. His glider was a single-engine plane that fit easily into the cargo bay of the massive ship.

There's something over there. Look; something is flying, Amanda said, squinting her eyes, activating the ocular device, or Occ, attached to her brow. Like him, she was one of Danny's rescue projects. Sometimes she was violent, sometimes playful, and sometimes creepy. There were times he felt like he