The Star Dwellers (25 page)

Tawni is back, hair wet and smiling. “The
shower’s empty now,” she says.

“Thanks,” I say, my vision of the mythical
ocean vanishing like a cloud of rock dust.

“The water’s cold, but not icy.”

“Awesome. Not icy. What a review.”

“Are you okay?” Tawni asks.

I know I’ve been in a mood lately, which is
somewhat strange, considering I’ve got my family back. Well, sort
of. “I’m sorry,” I say, my pained expression softening. “I know
I’ve been difficult. It’s just that none of this is the way…I
pictured it.”

“I know what you mean,” Tawni says, which
makes me feel better.

* * *

Despite the iciness of the water—yes, Tawni’s
idea of
icy
most certainly differs from my own—I leave
feeling refreshed. From now on, I’m going to grab control of my
emotions and try to be positive, like Tawni. My resolve holds when
we leave the bunks, when we walk down the hall, when we descend the
stairs, and even as we approach the mess hall.

But then I see Trevor and it shatters like
blown glass.

I’m angry again and I don’t know why. I mean,
I don’t even know what’s going on with Trevor, not for sure, but I
feel like hitting him, punching him, kicking that arrogant smirk
right off his face.

Of course, he’s waiting for us in front of
the mess hall. And his smirk is because he’s still responsible for
babysitting us—and he knows I hate it.

Deep breaths
, I think. I try to hide
my clench fists behind my hips.

“Hi, Trevor,” Tawni says remarkably cheerily,
despite the fact that even she doesn’t trust him anymore.

“Hello, ladies.”

Ignoring Trevor, I sniff the air. The warm
aroma of hot food and tangy sauces wafts through the entrance. A
choir of voices rumbles beyond. My stomach growls, a result of our
meager wafer lunch being interrupted by Mep’s four-foot-tall goon
squad.

“Sounds like something is trying to claw its
way out of there,” Trevor says, pointing at my stomach.

“It’s a moron-eating alien baby,” I retort,
“and you’ll be first on the menu.” The meanness is becoming so
natural it’s scary.

I don’t wait for a reaction or a response,
striding past him and into the dim glow of the mess hall. This
time, the only similarity to the Pen is the long, cafeteria-style
tables filled with eaters. Everything else is different. The
sounds: the room is abuzz with excited conversations, almost as if
there isn’t a war happening miles above us. The soldiers almost
seem…happy—if that’s even possible in this place. The smells:
rather than gummy and putrid like in the Pen, the aromas are sweet
and hot and flavorful. The décor: dark walls and orange lanterns
give the room a mysterious feel, unlike the bright, sterile whites
of the juvenile detention center where I was a guest for six
months.

There’s no one else in line as we’re the last
to arrive, so I go right up and start filling my plate at the
self-service food counter. Real sticky rice. Slabs of beef thick
with brown gravy. Creamy mashed potatoes. I think I’ve died and
gone to heaven.

I find a seat at the end of one of the long
tables, leaving a few seats between me and the other soldiers. When
I take my first bite of the delicious food I almost gag. The taste
isn’t the problem, or the texture, or smell, or anything to do with
the actual food. On the contrary, the food is amazing, everything I
expected it to be. But I realize it’s just another example of how
the Star Realm army is better resourced than they should be. Not
just better.
Way
better. Like they should be eating stale
bread, but instead they’re eating prime rib. Something’s not right,
and so I can’t seem to swallow the food, like my mind won’t let
me.

I take a swig from my cup of water and force
the bite down my throat and into my belly, which feels like it
reaches up with starving hands and grabs the chewed-up food,
pulling it the rest of the way down.

Tawni and Trevor sit down. “How’s the food?”
Trevor says. He knows
exactly
how it is.

“Delicious,” I say, taking another bite and
repeating the water trick to get it down.

Tawni looks at me strangely, like she knows
I’m only telling half the truth, but then shrugs and starts
eating.

When Trevor focuses on his dinner, I hazard a
glance at him. What are you hiding, you little creep? How have you
managed to gain my mom’s undying trust? I will find out. And when I
do…

“Training begins at seven tomorrow,” Trevor
says into his food.

“When do we leave for the Moon Realm?”

Trevor looks at me with one eye closed, as if
he’s sizing me up, and then says, “I dunno. No one does.
Everything’s on hold while the moon and star dwellers send messages
back and forth, trying to come to an agreement.”

A bad feeling begins to squirm within the pit
of my stomach and it’s not from the food. How can I trust the star
dweller generals to do the right thing, to listen to the moon
dwellers, when they were the ones who decided to bomb us to hell
and back again? I make a mental note to ask my mom about that,
among other things.

Because of the delightful taste, and despite
my dark thoughts, I manage to finish the whole plate of food in
front of me. Which is good, because I need my strength.

“What next?” I say as we’re leaving.

“Whatever you want,” Trevor says. “Evenings
are your time.”

Tawni yawns. “I’m pretty tired. I might just
hit the hay.”

My body feels tired but my mind is sharp and
there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep. “Can you walk her back,
Trevor?” I ask. He raises his eyebrows—an unspoken question. “I
won’t leave the army grounds,” I say, determined not to get angry
at having to answer to him.

He bites his lip. The last time he left me I
got into all kinds of trouble. Another decision point. To my
surprise, he says, “Fine. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, mocking him. It’s a dumb
thing to do, but I can’t help myself.

Thankfully, he ignores my impudence and says
stiffly, “Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

Tawni winks at me knowingly before she goes.
Her fatigue has granted me a minor reprieve from Trevor’s watchful
eye.

When they’re gone, I take a deep breath.
Today has felt like it’s lasted a week or more. The shock of
finding my mother and discovering she’s a general in the star
dweller army, the physical training activities, my half-crazed
assault on Mep’s hideout, my suspicions about Trevor and Mom’s
involvement in the army’s seemingly unlimited resources: all add up
to one thing—one hell of a long freaking day. But it’s not over
yet.

I go to find my mom to confront her.

R
oc’s asleep, which
I’m glad about, because it gives him a break from the emotional
turmoil of the last few hours. I’m lying on my bed, staring at the
picture Roc drew of my mom/his mom. Somehow it gives me hope
because I know that their genes are in us, and not just my
father’s.

The door opens and a crack of light cuts
through the dim glow of the lanterns. My heart sinks when I see who
it is.

Ben.

Come to tell me I’m a screw-up. Come to tell
me to leave.

“How’s Roc?” he whispers.

It’s not the first thing I expected him to
say, but I guess it makes sense because Ben’s such a good person.
He cares about people. He’s everything my father is not.

“We’re okay,” I say.

At that he raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t
pursue it further. Instead, he sits down on the foot of my bed.
“I’ll pack up my things and we’ll leave as soon as Roc wakes up,” I
say, preempting him and trying to make the conversation easier.

Now both his eyebrows are raised. “You’re
leaving? But why?”

“You don’t need to do this, Ben. I know I
screwed up. I know I ruined all your plans. Maybe if I just go
silently into the night you can show the VPs that you’re listening
to them.”

“You think I’m here to kick you out?” Ben
asks, the hint of a smile in his tone.

“Uh, aren’t you?”

“Quite the opposite. The VPs have agreed to
support us, support you.” When my mouth drops open, he adds, “All
of them.”

For perhaps the first time in my life, I’m
completely speechless. It’s not that I don’t have words fluttering
around in my brain, but there are too many of them trying to get
out my mouth at the same time, so it’s like they get stuck on my
lips as I continue to gawk at Adele’s father.

Finally, I manage, “That’s not possible. But
I—”

“You spoke from the heart, Tristan. Just like
I told you to. And they got it—every word of it. Nice touch
stomping out of the room, I might add.”

Bizarre.
This whole thing is bizarre.
“But I just went crazy angry like a bitter child,” I protest.

“Look, I don’t know how else to say this, but
it worked. Whether you planned it that way or not—it worked. We’ve
got thirteen of the moon dweller VPs on our side. But the hard part
is still to come. They’ve arranged a video conference with the rest
of the VPs, who won’t be such an easy sell, that I can promise you.
And there’s a catch,” Ben says, raising a finger in the air.

I’m still in shock, but my mind is slowly
catching up to the situation. “What catch?”

“The cease-fire with the Star Realm will be
expiring soon, so there’s really no time to delay our discussions
with their leaders further. So they’ll be invited to the
conference, too. They’ll be listening in, and available to comment,
if necessary.” He pauses, looks me in the eyes. “We’ll need you to
be a part of it—to show everyone you’re serious about this. Are you
ready for that?”

“Uh. I guess so.”

“Good. And Tristan?”

“Yeah?”

“A word of advice. Don’t stomp from the room
this time.” Ben’s smiling, and although I know he means it, I also
know he’s joking.

I grin back. “Thanks, Ben. Thank you very
much.”

* * *

I’ve been here before. I feel the air exit my
lungs as I’m slammed against the hard stone wall. “Do you always
have to do that?” I gasp.

Ram’s face is as hard as the stone he’s just
flung me against. “I don’t know how you do it, sun boy, but you
haven’t fooled me.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to be trying
to,” I reply smartly, still trying to get a full breath in.

“You might have convinced a few VPs, but the
rest won’t fall for your lies. Just remember—”

“I know, you’ll be watching me. I get it. Now
freaking put me down.”

Grudgingly, Ram lowers me to my feet and
stomps away. I slump against the wall, my chest heaving and my
heart racing.
God, I hate that guy.
No matter which side
he’s on.

Although Roc’s invited to the
conference—because I insisted—I’ve left him in the room because
he’s still not feeling up to it. Everything’s fine between us, but
it will take time before he’s ready to get involved in things
again. And that’s okay. I can do this on my own—for him.

Ram was supposed to escort me to the
videoconference, but I guess that’s not going to happen now.

After a few minutes of haggard panting, I’m
able to start moving again, thankfully without my escort. I don’t
take the shortcut past the Diamond Lake this time, because I want
to see other humans before going into the room full of VPs.

As I cross through the common area, I relish
the sound of people talking and eating dinner. The Resistance. Men
and women and some kids, too, all acting like they’re just having a
normal meal together in a normal place. There’s laughing and joking
and smiles. If it wasn’t for responsibility, I’d want to be there
next to them. As it is, the last thing on my mind is food and
companionship.

I’m not sure exactly how to get to the top
floor from here, but I figure it won’t be too difficult. At one end
of the commons is the tunnel that leads to the steps that go up one
level, to the room where I originally met with the Resistance
leaders. Further along the curving atrium wall are three other
tunnel entrances. Two look narrow and twist sharply out of view as
I peer into them. The third is wider, taller, and looks like a main
tunnel, so I enter it quickly, watching my shadows dance along the
brownish-gray ground as I pass each wall-mounted lantern.

Shortly, I reach an opening to the right, the
entrance to a spiral staircase. The tunnel continues on past the
opening, but I need to go up, not onwards, so I duck under the
archway. I count the steps as I climb, ignoring the door on each
landing as I pass by.

One hundred and twenty-five steps later I
reach the top. Although the door is metal and heavy and thick, I
can hear the buzz of activity beyond. As usual, I’m late to the
party.

Slowly, I pull the door back. The murmured
conversations grow louder as I enter and close the door firmly
behind me. From the VPs, I get a few glances, a few frowns, and
even a few smiles. All I get from Ram is a disgusted upturned lip
from the corner of the room. Vice President Morgan is at the head
of the table again, with Ben next to her. I round the table toward
him even before he beckons me with an open palm.

Along one of the long walls is a large
screen, which wasn’t there earlier in the day, but, at the moment,
is displaying only white fuzz.

The instant my butt hits the seat, Morgan
says, “Order!” and thumps her fist twice on the table. The murmurs
die down quickly and those who are standing—except for Ram—take
their seats. Although Morgan is speaking, most of the eyes are on
me, and even when I look away from them to focus on Morgan, I can
feel them on my face. Heat rises in my cheeks, but I try to ignore
it so it’ll go away.

“We only have a few minutes before we go live
with the other moon dweller VPs,” Morgan starts. “As you all know,
the star dweller leaders will be watching, too, so keep that in
mind. We are in a difficult position, because we don’t have a
majority opinion prior to involving the Star Realm, which I don’t
think any of us wanted, but they’ve left us with no choice. The
cease-fire will expire at the same time tomorrow, so we need to
reach an agreement quickly, and this is the only way.” I’m thankful
for the recap, since I left the last meeting before all of this was
discussed. No one speaks as Morgan pauses to take a sip from a
coppery jug of water.