Polaris (12 page)

No, he couldn't. Dax was dangerous. Jeth needed to be loyal to himself. His thoughts and actions needed to be his alone; he couldn't let Dax hold all the strings, the way Hammer had done for all those years.

Jeth gritted his teeth, wishing there was some other way. But he couldn't reject the implant—Dax had insisted he wear
it regularly. Jeth had no choice but to face it and overcome. He sighed and met his mother's gaze. “I'll do it, but not yet. I need a little time to prepare.”

And to gather my courage
. The implant seemed to vibrate in his hands like something alive. He slid it into his pocket, wanting to hide it from the crew for as long as he could.

Courage
. He didn't know if he had enough. Not this time.

“WHENEVER YOU'RE READY,” MARIAN SAID, MOTIONING TO
the door into
Avalon.
She sounded calm, but Jeth could tell she was as nervous about this homecoming as he was.

“You'll do fine,” he said, smoothing the front of his shirt. He wished he had asked Dax for his old clothes back before leaving the gardens. The crew would find out about what happened to him soon enough, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible.

Marian didn't reply as Jeth keyed the code to unlock the door. He led the way through into the cargo bay, expecting to find it empty at such a late hour.

But he was wrong. The entire crew was there. For a second, Jeth couldn't understand why, but then the sound of Cora screaming assaulted his ears. She was standing a short distance away, struggling to free herself from the grip Sierra and Lizzie had on her arms. Her screams were the kind that made his cybernetic hand ache and his mind cloud with memories.

Then the sound shifted to something less shrill and painful, but no less powerful. “Mom!”

Jeth saw every face turn toward him and Marian, their
expressions unified in response—first confusion and then complete and utter incredulity.

Sierra and Lizzie let go of Cora, and the girl catapulted forward. “Mom! I knew you were here. I felt it!”

Marian, who'd been standing just behind Jeth as they entered, stepped around him, arms held out. When Cora leaped into them, Marian caught her, hoisting her up easily. In seconds she was raining kisses down on her face as Cora giggled, both of them crying.

Seconds later Lizzie was there, too, somehow managing to wrap her arms around them both. She was crying as well, the gesture punctuated by a kind of hysterical laughter. The joy of their reunion was painful to watch. Not because Jeth didn't share in it, but because he'd forgotten how to process such an emotion, one he hadn't felt in so long. Witnessing their joy finally made it feel real. She was here. His mother.

But she's different,
he thought, examining her too-young face. One moment she was the mother he knew, but in the next she was an alien creature, one who phased the Brethren's guns with a wave of her hand. He had wanted to ask her about the changes when they had been walking, but the incessant pull of the implant on his mind had distracted him too much.

Jeth looked away, his thoughts a whirlwind inside his head. His gaze fell on Milton who was stumbling toward them. For a second, Jeth thought he would fall down, his limbs were shaking so badly. Or maybe his heart would give out. He had twenty years on Marian, an old man by some standards. But
he reached them still upright, his age-wrinkled cheeks wet and glistening like glass in the cargo bay lights overhead.

“Marian.”

The emotion in his uncle's voice made the tears sting Jeth's eyes more than ever. A couple of them escaped, and he hastily wiped them away. He didn't want to lose control in front of the crew, especially not Shady, who was standing farthest back from the group, in the middle of the makeshift gym area they'd built next to the brig. For the past few months, all of them had been learning military fighting techniques from Vince, skills they would've needed for rescuing Marian. They might need them even more now, Jeth thought, with the Harvester mission before them.

But not Shady
. The memory of his betrayal flooded Jeth's mind, and he welcomed it, the anger steadying him. Only now wasn't the time to call him on it. He refused to ruin this reunion with such business.

He turned back to his family, wrapping his arms around as much of them as he could. Marian was busy telling her story of how Daxton had organized her rescue and what she doing here. She could barely speak for the hugging and crying.

Jeth felt hands touch his back and he turned to see Sierra had joined them. She was crying, too, and listening intently to Marian's story. Sierra had nearly as much reason to be moved to tears by her unexpected appearance as Lizzie and Milton did. She had risked her life for Marian, rescuing Cora from the ITA's cruel machinations, in part because Marian had begged her to do it. But mostly because Sierra
understood what it was like to live a life she had no control over, the only life Cora had known until that time.

Finally, some of the fervor died down, and Lizzie introduced Marian to the rest of the crew. Jeth was glad she was doing it. He didn't want to address Shady. Or Celeste for that matter. Flynn was all right, but the gnawing ache in the back of Jeth's head was growing steadily worse, and Shady's presence was not making things any easier. His entire body felt coated with lead, his muscles heavy and sore. The implant might speed up healing, but it seemed that part hadn't happened for him yet.

Maybe that's because you haven't yet embraced it,
Jeth thought. He supposed it was true, but that didn't make him any less wary of what awaited him.

Sierra leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear. “Come on,” she whispered. “You look like you need a break.”

Jeth smiled at her, more grateful than he cared to admit. She was so beautiful. His heart wrenched as he remembered that the rest of the Brethren had seen her beauty, too, that he'd exposed her to the Axis. His smile vanished. It was his own fault, but he couldn't help the sting of jealousy it brought.

“Okay,” he said. He stepped toward Marian, pushing his way through Milton and Lizzie. “Mom,” he said, the word alone still a miracle to him. “I'm going to lie down for a while. Will you be all right?”

A smile brightened her face. “Of course. Absolutely
perfect.” Her smile lessened. “Do whatever you need to. I can take care of myself.”

He nodded then turned toward Sierra, locking his gaze on hers to avoid looking at the others.

Without discussion, they headed to Jeth's cabin. Sierra closed the door and locked it behind her. Then she faced him. “Are you okay?”

Jeth flinched at the question, his emotions a jumbled mess inside him. “I'm fine. Mom's back.”

Sierra pursed her lips. “Yes, it's like a dream. But that's not what I'm talking about and you know it.”

Jeth swallowed, the back of his skull aching. The implant felt like a boulder inside his pocket.

Sierra took a slow step toward him, as if he were an animal that might flee at her approach. “Did the implant hurt?” She motioned toward his head.

Jeth took an involuntary step back from her, maintaining the distance. “How did you know?”

Sierra bit her lip. “Educated guess. Why else would Dax take you away from us and return you in those clothes? When we first woke up, he told us that you were okay and that he had business to discuss with you, but I had a feeling there was more to it.”

Yes, a lot more.
Shame made the muscles in his body clench.
Am I one of the Brethren now?

Sierra closed the distance between them. He now stood next to the bed with no more room to retreat. She raised her hands to his face, cupping his jaw. “So I'll ask again. Are you okay?”

Slowly, gently, Jeth shook his head. He felt the walls crumbling inside, his joy at having his mother back giving way to the agony of what he now faced—being a prisoner in his own mind, a slave. It was his worst fear come true.

Sierra leaned forward to soothe him with a kiss, but Jeth jerked away from her. The look of hurt that crossed her face only deepened his shame. She lowered her hands, held awkwardly in the air between them.

“I don't want the Brethren to see,” he said, searching for a way to explain. “Through the link. That's how it works. What I think and see the Brethren think and see, too. I can't control it . . . I keep showing them things I don't mean to.”

“I understand.” Sierra held his gaze for several long seconds. “I know a bit about how the implants work. But I understand there's a way to control it. Daxton was able to keep things from Hammer, wasn't he? Maybe he can help.”

Jeth grunted. “Sure. That conversation will go well. Hey Dax, would you mind teaching me how I can keep secrets from you even with this brain implant, the same way you deceived the guy you betrayed and then killed?”

“Hammer's dead?”

Jeth nodded and filled her in on what Dax told him about Hammer finally removing his Guard implant, one rigged to explode if separated from the architecture.

Sierra gave a shudder. “Yes, I guess you've got a point.” She turned away from him and sat on the chair next to the dresser. “So, Daxton rescued your mother. What does he want in return?”

Jeth grimaced. “What, you don't think he did it out of the kindness of his heart?”

“Ha, ha.”

Sighing, Jeth sat on the bed. He pulled the implant out of his pocket and began turning it over in his hand. “He's after the location for Empyria. And Mom's agreed to give it to him—but only after he helps her—helps us—destroy the Harvester on First-Earth. He forced the implant on me to ensure that I don't try to betray him while we're on the mission. And apparently there's something specific
you
need to do as well. Oh, and Mom says that the Pyreans are dying because of the Harvesting and that if it doesn't stop Cora will die too.” He drew a breath, his mind abuzz with unanswered questions once more.

Sierra didn't say anything when he finished, her expression inscrutable.

“You don't seem surprised by any of this,” he said after a few seconds.

She shook her head. “I'm not. Not really, anyway. I've had my suspicions about Cora, especially with the way she spends all that time in the engine room next to the metadrive. As for your mother, well, it was obvious she's always had an agenda. It was the only way she could've endured all those years in the ITA labs without breaking.”

Jeth shivered, trying not to think about it. He could guess that some of the icy hardness in her was because of the suffering she had gone through at the hands of the ITA. The reality of that torture was suddenly more real to him, too.
Revenge
. The motivation had its appeal.

“I wonder what it is she needs from me,” Sierra said. “I never had anything to do with the Harvesters.”

“I don't know.” Jeth exhaled. “But Mom was insistent.”

Worry clouded Sierra's eyes for a moment, then she shrugged it off. “I'm sure we'll find out soon.”

Jeth frowned. “You seem awfully calm about this. Do you think destroying the Harvester isn't going to be as hard as it sounds?”

Sierra ran a tongue over her lower lip. “No, not exactly. But it'll be a helluva lot easier than rescuing your mom would've been, especially with Dax's resources behind us.”

Jeth sighed, conceding that point with no hesitation. The difference between having money and power behind a mission and not having it was perfectly clear to him now. Every job they'd worked since escaping Hammer had ended in disaster, or close to it. Look at what had happened with Wainwright. That job had been a failure before they'd even arrived at Nuvali.

“And even though the Harvester is a classified installation,” Sierra continued, “it isn't better protected than any other ITA facility. The only difference is it's located out in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by nothing but water and open sky. It's not going to be easy to get in. It's a no-fly zone, and there are ocean patrols, but the only people who know about its existence are those with access to the Aether Project.”

“So not many,” said Jeth. “That's good to hear.” He paused. “But why do you sound doubtful?”

“Because I am.” Sierra crossed one leg over the other. “It doesn't make sense.”

“How so?”

“All of it. Why target only one Harvester? Yes, the First-Earth one is the largest, but if the harvesting is what's killing them, then all of them need to be destroyed.”

“I know. I asked my mom the same thing. But Dax wouldn't commit to helping with anything except the First-Earth mission, and Mom seemed to believe that would be better than nothing.”

Sierra shook her head. “Again, no sense. The location to Empyria is priceless. Why would your mother agree to give it up for only a portion of what she wants? She spent
years
guarding that secret and nothing the ITA did, nor anything they offered, was enough to make her give it up.”

“Offered?” Jeth couldn't keep the skepticism out of his voice. “What could they have offered her?”

Sierra dropped her gaze. “You and Lizzie.”

“What?” Jeth's grip tightened on the implant still clutched in his hands.

“It's true. They offered to let her see you both again, to let you live in the facility with her, to come and go as you all pleased.”

Jeth scoffed. “As if she believed them. This is the ITA you're talking about.”

Sierra shrugged. “You might be right, but the point is, that your mom refused to even entertain the idea. Keeping it secret meant that much to her.”

A pain began to build in Jeth's chest.
She turned down me
and Lizzie. She could've let us know she was alive, seen us again, but she didn't.
He wasn't sure what to think about that, but he couldn't deny the prickle of resentment. Seeing her today had been wonderful, beyond words. To think this could have happened years earlier, that he could have had his suffering put to an end, but his mother had turned it down. Why? What could be so important about the Pyreans? About Empyria?

He took a deep breath, stifling that resentment before it could get in the way. “What's your point?”

Sierra hesitated, aware that the revelation had hurt him. “Why would she give it up now? And to a man like Dax?”

The answer came to Jeth at once, and he didn't like it. “You think she's playing him?”

Sierra met his gaze. “I don't know, but it's possible.”

Jeth didn't want to believe she'd willingly put all of them in danger, but he couldn't dismiss the possibility. It made too much sense. Despite how it seemed on the surface, he didn't know his mother at all, not anymore. She might once have been a woman whose word could be trusted, but all bets were off now. He couldn't forget the way she had phased those guns into metaspace, her icy hardness.