Defy the Stars (Constellation #1)

Noemi focuses on the thermomagnetic device. If nobody knows it’s been taken, nobody can figure out her plans. Protecting Genesis still matters to her more than anything else—but it’s no longer the only thing that matters. Abel does, too, and Ephraim, and Virginia herself. “Sorry we got you into trouble.”


“Are you kidding? That’s the most flash thing that ever happened to me, ever. We’re talking lifetime.” Virginia’s smile returns to her face. “Well, I already had my new ride, and a burning curiosity to know just where the most advanced mech in the galaxy was headed, so I took to the skies. Ludwig didn’t get caught, so he was able to dig into security files, get me some specs on your ship. Went to Kismet first—which, ew, so touristy. When that didn’t pan out, I figured I’d try here, and sure enough, as soon as I’m coming into Stronghold orbit, I see a ship taking off in a hell of a hurry, vehicles in pursuit, and the ship looks a whole lot like Ludwig’s specs. You think I wasn’t going to check that out? Now, seriously, who’s the new guy, and where’s Abel?”

Ephraim frowns. “What do you mean, the most advanced mech in the galaxy? Genesis doesn’t have any mechs.”

It’s Virginia’s turn to look lost. “Why are you talking about Genesis?”

Noemi braces herself. “You each have half of the story. Time to tell you the whole thing.”





“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Virginia says as she follows Noemi back toward the bridge. “Genesis—you guys—I don’t agree with what you’re doing. At all.”

“I’m not sure I do either, any longer,” Noemi confesses. “But I know I have to stop the Masada Run.”

Ephraim’s stuck on his own piece of new information. “Abel can’t be a mech. Nobody’s ever made one that smart. Even if it could be done, that would be illegal. But—he did manage to land the medtram on a speeding train. Huh. I spent all that time talking to a mech and never knew it? I gotta sit down.”

Noemi doesn’t blame him. She brings up the makeshift relativistic calendar Abel put together, the one that tells her how long before the Masada Run. It’s only another… six days. Not long. Not long at all.

But it’s long enough.

“We have to find Abel.” Noemi sits in the pilot’s seat, screwing up her courage. “The Queen and Charlie just—shut him down. In an instant. It was like a human taking a blaster bolt to the head.”

“Password fail-safe.” Virginia smirks, knowing and smug again. For an instant she reminds Noemi of Abel. “Has to be. Nothing else would deactivate a sophisticated mech that quickly.”

“Well, they did that to him, and shipped him back to Mansfield before Abel was ready to go. Then the Queen mech said something about Abel having to fulfill some purpose—take some ‘rightful place’—I don’t know. It sounds all wrong.”

“Let me see if I have this straight.” Ephraim starts counting points off on his fingers. “Burton Mansfield himself made Abel. According to you, Abel talks about the guy like he’s his father instead of his inventor. Mansfield is getting Abel back. I’m not seeing the problem here. I mean, won’t Abel be happy to be back home? Mansfield wanted him back so badly he sent mechs all around the galaxy looking for him, so he’s probably happy, too. Right?”

Noemi has to admit this makes some sense—but not enough. “Then why did they have to knock Abel out to make it happen? Abel said he’d return home on his own. Soon, even. That wasn’t enough for them.”

Finally, Virginia grasps the seriousness of the situation. “Remember what I said on Cray? Abel’s design is way, way more complex than any mech I’ve ever seen. More than is legally allowed. Mansfield made him to do something pretty important.”

“Not important enough to actually tell Abel about it.” Noemi takes a deep breath before looking squarely at both Virginia and Ephraim. In her red flight suit and his medical scrubs and black jacket, they look as unalike as the worlds they come from. Never would Noemi have imagined she would meet two people so foreign to her, much less that she could come to trust them.

Least of all would she have imagined that she’d be willing to risk everything for the sake of a single mech. But here she is.

“I’m going after Abel,” she says. “Maybe he’s better off where he is. Maybe he’s delighted. But I have to know that for sure. He’s saved my life so many times, even when he didn’t have to, even when he thought I was going to destroy him. It wasn’t just his programming at work—it was Abel himself. The soul inside the machine. And I can’t abandon him without finding out whether he’s okay. If you guys want off this ship, then we’ll figure out how to make that happen. But if you’re willing to come with me, I could use the help. Abel could, too.”

After a few moments’ silence, Virginia says, “I think this is a really incredibly terrible plan. But there’s no way I’m letting you go on a joyride that good alone.”

“I also think this is a terrible plan.” Ephraim rubs tiredly at his eyes with one hand. “But since I’m now a wanted fugitive, I figure I’m along for the ride.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.” But they’re not exactly wrong about her plan.

She’ll just have to come up with a better one.

Fear churning in her belly, Noemi lays in a new course. The mag engines flame into brilliant life behind them, powering them through the stars, directly toward the next Gate.

To save Abel, Noemi has to find Mansfield. And Mansfield is sure to be on the last world she ever wanted to visit, the one she’s feared and hated more than any other.

Time, at last, to land on Earth.





32


HEAVY CLOUDS BLANKET LONDON, PALE GRAY IN THE predawn hours. Abel’s hopper descends through them, and briefly he’s enveloped in mist before, at last, he sees the lights below.

London. He knows the street patterns, the landmarks, all of it; he superimposes his last known map with what he sees now in order to learn how it’s changed. None of that is as important, though, as the strange exhilaration of homecoming. He’d known humans became sentimentally attached to houses, cities, places that they remembered fondly—but had never realized he could do the same.

Abel never got to come home before.

The once-famed fogs of London have returned in the past century, as subtly dangerous as they were before. The hopper draws swirls in the vapor as it settles atop a tall, illuminated platform that stands over most of the city. Abel peers through one of the small round windows, his face briefly painted blue by the searchlights, to see that a welcome party is waiting.

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