Their Fractured Light (Starbound #3)

The shuttle gives a gentle shudder and lifts off, gathering speed quickly. It’s almost completely smooth, but Sofia drops her purse into her lap to grab at the armrests, leaning her head back against the headrest so she can squeeze her eyes closed. When she speaks again, her words are short and sharp. “When we get back to Corinth, you’ll walk away from me and never look back. You won’t look for me. You won’t so much as enter my name into one of your search programs.”


It’s like having my insides squeezed, but I force myself to nod. Then, remembering she can’t see it with her eyes closed: “I understand. And until we’re back on Corinth?”

“Let’s just do what we came to do. If I let you wander around up there without me, you’ll blow your cover, and then they’ll find out who you came with.”

I don’t care if it’s grudging. It’s enough. I want to help her. I want to keep her safe. I want to make up for everything I’ve put her through over the past year—and I want LaRoux to answer for what he’s done. I hope I don’t have to choose between these things.

She’s still gripping the armchair like the shuttle might fall out of the sky if she doesn’t personally focus on keeping it up in the air, and I realize in a flash that she’s a nervous flier. I suppose on Avon she didn’t spend a lot of time on shuttlecraft. I reach for a question to distract her, keeping my voice low. “Tell me about the schedule for tonight. Do we know where our window is?” We were meant to spend today on this final briefing. We were meant to be together, today.

She breathes out slowly, steadying herself, staring straight ahead as she murmurs her reply. If she knows I’m asking to keep her mind off the flight, she doesn’t let on. “Security’s heavy. LaRoux will be there himself, along with his daughter and that soldier she’s marrying.”

My poor, abused heart starts thumping again. It’s fine. Lilac and Merendsen might know the Knave, but they never saw what he looked like. And while Lilac might recognize me, it’s been so long that I doubt she’d even remember me. “The whole family?” I try to keep my voice light. “All in one place, that’s a big deal. I didn’t think the soldier came out in public.”

Sofia rolls her eyes. “He’s not the hero all the newsvids made him out to be,” she murmurs. “Some of those medals on his chest are for so-called victories against Avon, against my people. He came back there, right before the Broadcast, after…my father. And he ran for it as soon as things got bad.”

There’s a bitter taste in my mouth. After all, he left right after he relayed the information I found for them to Jubilee Chase and Flynn Cormac. Of course Sofia would see that as abandonment. “I guess the media get all kinds of things wrong,” I say, to fill the silence. “What about security? There’ll be a big crew there, I’m guessing.”

“It’ll be a different team to the ones we—” Sofia pauses only a beat. I guess having her home invaded by kidnappers is no longer the worst thing that’s happened to her in the past two weeks. “Met. We should be safe, unless someone walks in on you running a hack on their computers.”

I pat my pocket, where I’ve stashed the most slimmed-down version of my equipment I could manage. “With any luck it won’t be more than a few minutes, once we find the rift.” Maybe I should pretend it’s taking longer—give me some excuse to talk and plead my case.

The shuttle clears atmo and the ride smooths out, the roar of the engines dropping, Sofia’s death grip on the armchair easing. Through the viewport beside her, the stars emerge from the sooty pollution shrouding Corinth. “There’ll be hors d’oeuvres to start the night,” she says softly, all business. “Mingling, dancing. Then later on, the museum section opens. The problem is that they’re offering private tours of the exhibit during the first half of the party, and our route to Engineering takes us right through the exhibit, so our window is small. We have to get in after the tours end, but before the museum opens—during the speeches. We’ll have a window of half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes.”

“It’s enough,” I promise. I hope I’m telling the truth.

We’re both quiet as the Daedalus comes into view, so massive I can only make out a slice of it through the viewport, the stars vanishing behind its bulk. She’s the exact twin of the Icarus, built side by side with her sister ship, scheduled to launch only weeks afterward. But when the Icarus went down, plans for the Daedalus were put on hold until LaRoux realized he could capitalize on that tragedy by turning the Daedalus into a sick sort of museum attraction for all those drawn to gawk at destruction.

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