Fractured Era: Legacy Code Bundle (Books 1-3) (Fractured Era Series) Read online

  Gilly bounded over last with a full tray and the sort of energy only a new half could have. She grinned as she slid onto the bench beside Maeve. “Morning!”

  Maeve gave her a weak smile and turned away. The kid had been following her around since they’d put her on the crew a month ago. At twelve, she was their youngest member, and she sure acted it.

  “They’re briefing us about the planet today,” Kevan said matter-of-factly.

  Hyun gave them all a small smile. “A tech told me they sent the probes ahead already. They got some data before they lost contact, so I guess we’ll be making first landfall soon.”

  “Only three transports get to go this time,” Vinay said around a mouthful of food. “Might be the London won’t supply workers for the first round.”

  The crew had talked about this at almost every meal for months now. Just the same stupid speculation, over and over.

  Maeve knew she should stay quiet, but the words fell out of her mouth anyway. “Give it up already. We make metal. Get it? Who do you think they’ll send? Colonists from the Meso? They’re not tryin’a grow quin down there.”

  Everyone looked surprised at her words, except oblivious Gilly.

  “I’d go if they chose me,” she piped up. “Can you imagine? Getting to be the first one to set foot on a new planet…?” She turned to Maeve, her eyes wide. “Oh! This is a lucky birthday for you. Aren’t you eighteen today?”

  “Ah, yes. So lucky.” Maeve’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and she added in a quiet voice, “Here comes the death draft.”

  Kevan snorted, and the rest of them stared at her like she’d grown an extra limb. Dritan elbowed her lightly in the ribs, and she shoved more food into her mouth. It suddenly tasted like dust.

  All the colonists who mined the last planet were long dead, but everyone alive had heard the rumors. It was said that the colonists who made first landfall on a new planet always died a horrible death.

  Every. Single. Time.

  There were a million calculations to get right for a first landing, so it wasn’t surprising that the ancient transports crashed or got destroyed trying to descend through the atmosphere. But it had to be done. The fleet needed the data the first transports would capture to ensure the second wave made it down.

  Dritan cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence, and winked at Gilly. “You’re right. We’d be lucky to get the chance. Maybe we’ll get to if we reach another planet after we’re eighteen.”

  Maeve kept her mouth shut this time. Did Dritan really believe his own kak?

  Gilly perked up. “You know, my mama told me this planet could have what we need to build the next jump gate. New Earth could be one jump away.”

  She’d finally brought up the hope no one else ever dared voice. They all hesitated, and then Kevan grinned at the new half.

  “I hope I’m around to see it,” he said.

  “Me, too,” Vinay and Hyun said at the same time. They exchanged the kind of look only a paired couple could exchange, full of unspoken thoughts and nauseating affection. Hyun cuddled closer to Vinay as they finished their food, and he wrapped an arm around her.

  Maeve’s heart twisted just from watching the display. She sucked down her water and nearly spat it back out in disgust. Musty with a hint of metal. Bottom of the tank, definitely. Was the Oslo running low yet again?

  Gilly dropped her fork to her plate and pointed toward the double doors. “Look!”

  As the rest of the galley became aware of who was walking through the doors, the din reached new heights, everyone talking at once, getting to their feet in a rush.

  Execs.

  Captain Kerrigan walked in first, stocky and ruddy-faced, with his head of red hair. Lead Tech Miller followed, and behind them was Head Enforcer Jacobs. The three of them went to the back of the galley to a raised dais and screen where news and schedules were usually displayed.

  Maeve’s pulse picked up, and bitter saliva flooded her mouth. She swallowed it back, trying to keep the disgust off her face as the head enforcer took the stage beside the others. Jacobs was tall, strong, with the kind of average good looks that inspired trust. But she was a traitor to the subs she was supposed to oversee.

  Two months ago, there had been a fire in the sector where they manufactured hull panels. Jacobs had given the order to vent all the oxygen without even trying to fight it with extinguishers first. Twenty subs had died that shift, including both of Maeve’s parents. They’d only been thirty-four years old.

  Maeve fought to keep the hate off her face as the head enforcer lifted the amplifier to her mouth.

  Her voice came through the small black box with a crackle. “Good morning, colonists of the London. Please take your seats.”

  Everyone settled back down on the benches, and the energy in the air infected even Maeve, her stomach fluttering sickly with it.

  Jacobs gave the captain the amplifier, and the room quieted in expectation. Gilly was breathing fast, and her eyes were glassy, riveted to the execs. A little twinge of guilt hit Maeve over the way she’d acted, so she patted Gilly’s hand to try to calm her down. Gilly grabbed Maeve’s hand in a death grip.

  “This is a day that will be remembered,” the Captain said. “The London slowed to a complete stop half an hour ago. I’m proud to announce that we have finally reached Soren, named so in honor of our leader and her family’s long service to this fleet. President Sorenson briefed all the deka captains earlier from the bridge of the flagship Paragon. She has high hopes for our upcoming mission.”

  Excited murmurs rose in the crowd, and Gilly squeezed Maeve’s hand so hard Maeve thought she heard bones crunching.

  The Captain held up a hand for silence, and the murmuring faded. “The last planet we found in this system had resources, but none of the martisium we need to build the next jumpgate. Soren is another chance for us all. The first step is landfall and testing the soil. Out of the ten dekas, three will supply transports for the first landing. The Perth, the Kyoto, and the London.”

  The mining ship, the power ship, and the metalworking ship. All the dekas that made the raw materials for the jumpgate. A flicker of fear raced through Maeve, and by the surge of noise in the room, everyone else was experiencing the same.

  “We’ve been training our landfall flight crew for over a year now, and it is an honor to be chosen for this,” the captain continued, “but as most of you know, it is customary for seven additional crew members to help man the transports. Our workers will be essential for helping the Perth search for and identify available resources on the planet. Today, we will hold a lottery for the seven. Only our best unpaired techs and sublevel workers over the age of eighteen will be entered.”

  Hyun and Vinay looked at each other with relief, and the tension in the rest of the galley instantly went down a step as every couple realized they wouldn’t be in the first landfall lottery.

  Fucking wonderful. Maeve exchanged a glance with Kevan, who had gone pale. He was almost forty-five, older than most, but since his wife had died in an accident years ago, he’d also be a candidate.

  The captain held up a hand, and the galley quieted once more. “If you are over the age of eighteen and would like to volunteer ahead of the draft, raise your hand now.”

  The room went utterly silent as each colonist cast sidelong glances at friends and enemies to see if anyone would volunteer now that the possibility of a jump gate had arrived.

  Maeve stared down at her tray, shoulders tight. Did the captain think they were all idiots? The execs would never send their unpaired down there to die some terrible death.

  If one person had volunteered, maybe more would have. But not a single hand went up. When it was clear no one would volunteer, the captain spoke. “Then I wish each of you the best of luck. While some must make first landfall, the rest of us have to stay focused on our duties. Our jobs are now more important than ever. May Soren be even richer than Farragut was.”

  Maeve’s whole crew looked hopef
ul at the words, eyes shining like Gilly’s.

  “A better world awaits,” the captain said, his voice strong.

  “A better world awaits,” the crowd intoned.

  Maeve mouthed the words but felt none of the raw hope on the faces around her.

  The head enforcer took the amplifier back. “I will be choosing only a few of our best workers. If you’ve shown a strong commitment to duty and excellence on the job, you have a chance to be one of the chosen. Good luck to you all.”

  The Lead Tech took the amplifier next, turning to address his techs in their corner. “I’ve compiled a list of my best techs for the job. If you have experience working with the metal analysis software, you’re at the top of the list. I wish you all luck as well.”

  With that, the three of them strode back out of the galley. The minute the doors slid shut behind them, the low conversation escalated to a roar. Dritan stayed silent, flashing a look at Maeve, noting the way Gilly was still hanging onto her hand. Maeve tried to wiggle out of her sweaty grasp, and Gilly’s cheeks went flame red as she dropped Maeve’s hand.

  “I bet they’ll choose you, Maeve.” Gilly said in a rush. “You had one of the highest scores of anyone, didn’t you? Our caretaker told us that.”

  Now the whole crew and even some subs further down the table were looking in her direction. Maeve shrugged and grabbed her tray off the table. “Nope. Must have me mixed up with someone else. If they’re choosing the best, that counts me out.”

  Dritan raised a brow at her, but everyone’s focus shifted to the screen above the dais as the shift schedule came up. Maeve didn’t wait around to see where she had to risk her life today.

  She returned her tray to the front and headed for the doors. Gilly was right. Maeve had gotten one of the highest scores. In fact, the only person in recent memory to get a higher score on the hardware exams was Dritan. And he damn well knew that.

  He caught up to her as she reached the stairwell. “We’re on P4 today,” he said, out of breath. “Looks like they’re opening up the jumpgate sector, and we’re one of the crews going in.”

  Maeve’s mouth went dry. The components in there were old. And old meant dangerous in this fleet. “That’s great.”

  She started down the stairs, and Dritan quickened his pace to keep up with her. “Gilly looks up to you, you know.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t need any of that.”

  “A good sub, like you, could teach her a lot—”

  “Experience in the sublevels will do that just fine.” She picked up her pace, navigating the flow of people moving in both directions.

  “If you just spent some time with her, maybe—”

  “Drop it.” How could he expect her to mentor a half when she believed in duty so little she’d tried to airlock herself last shift?

  “Wait.”

  Maeve ignored him and pushed ahead through the P4 doors. The heat of the power core rushed over her, sweat instantly popping up on her forehead, and the core filled her up with its vibration, its ceaseless hum.

  “Maeve.” Dritan grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the side of the corridor, forcing her to look up at him.

  “What?”

  “We’re so close.” He sounded vulnerable, but there was a strength in his tone, the hope she couldn’t feel.

  “What if we’re not?”

  Dritan’s brow furrowed, like he couldn’t believe she’d really said it. It was a question she’d always kept to herself, but she couldn’t take it back now.

  “What if there is no better world?” she said, too loudly. “What if we’re really cursed to wander the stars for an eternity for what we did to Earth?”

  Dritan recovered from his surprise, tightening his jaw as he glanced at some subs pushing past. “Our ancestors did that. Not us,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And if you really believed that, then you’d believe the rest. The stories say if we all do our duty to the fleet to ensure humanity’s survival, we’ll be forgiven for what we did. Which means we will find our new world.”

  Maeve rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t believe that. And you don’t either.”

  “Maybe not, but I know we’ll eventually find a new home. Maybe not in our lifetime, but… someday. We just need to keep searching.” His voice took on an edge, a telltale sign his passionate streak was about to overtake his ability to reason logically. “If we are meant to wander, we should go out fighting. Because you know what? If we can’t even fight for our own survival, then the old stories were right. We wouldn’t deserve a better world. We need to stay clear-headed and determined and get the job done. Not just quit before we get there.”

  Like I tried to quit.

  His eyes widened as he realized what he’d implied. “I didn’t mean you. I meant—”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Maeve said simply, and then walked toward the cold jumpgate sector.

  She’d held the same hopes as him when she was younger, but they were gone now, and she wasn’t the only person who eventually doubted the idea of a new Earth. Colonists quit every year, most of them airlocking themselves. It was usually the Outcast and those dying of core sickness who did it… but not always.

  Dritan was wrong. He was brave and passionate about doing his duty, but wrong. She’d never shared her doubts with him before this, because he didn’t question things. Ever. He just accepted them. Sometimes she wished she could be more like him, content and optimistic about the future… then the darkness would stay away.

  What if quitting was the only escape?

  Four crews gathered outside the jumpgate sector, including Maeve and Dritan’s. All around Maeve, subs performed their good luck rituals. One man lifted his sleeve and kissed the infinity symbol tattooed there. A woman checked the pockets on her suit one by one, ensuring they were all zippered or buttoned shut. Next to Maeve, a half was tying her boot laces in complex knots, then tucking them in carefully.

  Maeve resisted the urge to smooth her collar and cup a hand over the star-shaped pendant in her pocket. Her mother had been wearing the star for luck when she died. But it hadn’t helped her then, had it?

  Everyone stood at attention as the head enforcer arrived, Fenton and three other enforcers trailing her. Another spike of hate seared through Maeve at the sight of them, but she pushed it down and focused on what they were about to do. How many times had she walked past this door, wondering what lay on the other side?

  Jacobs swept her card across the scanner, and the doors creaked open slowly, whining on ancient bearings.

  Maeve barely breathed as she followed everyone into the sector. High ceilings rose over row upon row of strange-yet-familiar machinery. Everything was built with interchangeable parts in the fleet, but this set-up was different. These were old machines, rusted and dented, extending from floor to ceiling. Assembly belts wound through the sector, and enormous curved metal tubes ran above them, parallel with the floor. Ladders led to catwalks providing access to every tall machine and pipe.

  Jacobs took the enforcers aside to give them their orders, and the crews stood by—every sub talking in low tones. Maeve stayed quiet and pretended not to notice when Gilly grabbed her sleeve and tugged.

  The jumpgate sector. Maeve’s heart beat faster just looking at it all. If Soren had martisium, they’d build each piece of the gate from the precious metal here, in this room. Once assembled in space, the massive circle would draw power from every ship, and the system’s sun if necessary, to create a wormhole that would take the fleet to a new part of the galaxy.

  Maeve might not be a tech, but she had enough math to know the odds of the next jump leading to a habitable planet were slim. Once they jumped, they’d just travel for decades until they found the next planet with resources to build another gate. Unless the ships fell apart first… and they probably would. That’s why none of this matters.

  Fenton walked over to their crew, looking as constipated as always. “Crew 104, this way.”

  They followed him deep into the
sector, to a far wall next to one of the enormous tubes. Beneath it, stood a massive metal box where the control panel was located.

  Fenton leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “Each crew will be working on one of the gate presses. Head Enforcer Jacobs wants ‘em up and running by midbreak. This is yours. Now get to work.”

  Kevan frowned, surveying the press, then looked at his crew. “Bound to be some glitches in this sector. Been cold for decades. Vinay, Hyun, help me get the panels off the control box. Maeve, Dritan, check to see if we got any manuals inside the press.”

  Gilly trailed after Maeve and Dritan as they peered into the opening of the curved pipe. Pipes were the worst. This one looked like all the others, except for the thick curved rod running down the center of it. The rod was covered in an uneven, jagged surface, and looked like it was meant to spin in place.

  “Tight fit,” Dritan said.

  Maeve’s heart leapt into her throat. “I’ll go.”

  Dritan grabbed a helio from the workcase and tossed it to her. She tapped the cool metal sphere, and it rose in the air, hovering beside her shoulder. The small globe lit up like a tiny sun to light her way.

  Dritan gave Maeve a knee up, and she crawled into the dark pipe. It was stifling in here, and sweat dripped into her eyes and soaked through her suit.

  So. Tight. She squeezed between the center rod and the side of the tube and tried to keep her breathing even. A few feet in, the helio lit up a labeled panel.

  As she twisted to face it, the jagged edges on the rod jabbed through her suit. She lifted up the panel and squinted to assess its condition. The wires and components looked a bit brittle, but they might work.

  “Found it.” Her voice echoed down the pipe. “Got a panel in here. Manual restart.”

  Maeve’s relief grew with every inch of progress she made toward the exit, and then she dropped back to the floor. Out there, Gilly was talking loudly.