Partner pairing was personal, chemical. It always reminded Kyn of something an old boy had once told her when she was still tiny, back before the world had gone to hell, back in Sweetheart. He had worked on their farm, as a chicken sexer. Chicken sexing was an almost magical skill. There were some aspects of chickens that leant one way or another — boy or girl — but no definitive list you could point to, hand on heart, and say that this or that made them one way or another. But some people — for some reason no-one quite understood — could pick up one of those scrawling, cheeping little things, turn it over in their hands, and say with ninety-nine per cent accuracy what it was. Magic.

  Kyn liked thinking abut that story, because it reminded her that no matter how technologically advanced we became, there were some jobs only people could do. And no matter how far removed from home and hearth they were, floating out here in the great void of space in these crazy ships that tried to mimic home, there were some jobs only humans could still do. And one of them was pair Avengers for battle missions — one with another, to offer the perfect complement; to be the other eyes and ears you could not have behind you. The person who would save you or sink you.

  She moved quickly through the group, tapping them and motioning to others. As she came to the last four, she hesitated, and mentally crossed herself, hoping this was not a mistake. It was a risk, for sure, but hopefully, hopefully not a mistake. Four sets of eyes studied her while she hesitated. But she would not be rushed. She was the chicken sexer here; she had to probe her instincts, check she had read them right.

  ‘Kendis, Mirren,’ she said finally. ‘Over there.’

  Kendis smiled and Kyn almost changed her mind. But one look at Mirren assured her she’d made the right choice. The girl was closed as tight as a drum, not a single expression flicking across her face at the news that the boy she had beaten would be her partner. Kyn knew now she was right. They were light and shade, these two. And she remembered the other things — their grace, their agility — they would make some formidable team if they could learn to read each other’s bodies, and anticipate each other’s choices. As they would need to, to survive.

  But still. Kyn watched them walk over to the corner of the round to which she had motioned. They were side-by-side, and their arms brushed lightly. Kyn frowned, wondering if it was an accident, or deliberate, and if the latter, who had instigated it. She followed them, watched them eye each other as they stood on either side of an almost-out-dated helio. Their faces were neutral, but she stood between them and knew she wasn’t imagining the frisson.

  Jesus Christ. The last thing she needed was to be feeding some Romeo and Juliet routine on this mission.

  ‘Avengers,’ she spat.

  Their eyes pulled away from each other’s and met hers.

  ‘Just so we’re clear. Avengers do not have relationships. With anyone.’ She smacked one balled fist into the palm of her other hand to underline the point. ‘Including and especially each other.’ They looked at her calmly but there was no answering surprise. No outrage. No smartass rejoinder from Kendis.

  ‘Yes, Magister,’ Mirren confirmed lightly. ‘Of course, Magister,’ Kendis echoed.

  Then they were back to looking at each other. It was what they were supposed to be doing, what she wanted them to do; size each other up for the training round she would shortly order to start.

  So that wasn’t the problem.

  The problem was that Kyn could tell. She could tell they liked looking at each other. Something about the slow-dawning brightness in Kendis’ old eyes. Something about the slightest of flushes on Mirren’s sweet baby-doll face. Kyn’s eyes flicked across their bodies. Loose, ready, as they should be. But also a little puffed, a little focused on emphasising the beauty of their bodies, each to the other.

  Kyn mentally rolled her eyes and stalked off.

  She stood at the centre of the round. ‘Today we are practising three-sixty fighting,’ she said. ‘You will fight back to back. You will be each other’s eyes and ears. I will match your pair with another pair and you will fight team on team. Your aim is to get the other team down and keep them there. But’ — She paused, already hating the taste of what she was about to say — ’you also have to be careful, just this once. I need you whole later today.’

  Her words were a sobering note dropping into the thick haze of testosterone that coated the room before a fight.

  ‘Go.’

  She made her way over to Rexas and Reetor — the little redhead smartass and the big, dark intellect. Of all the groupings, this was the one of which she was most confident. She understood clearly what they would get from each other. It was pure yin and yang. Rexas was light, but a superb fighter. He reminded her a lot of Jedro back in the day. Reetor was pure learned skill, his beautiful physicality matched by that impressive brain.

  But today, something was off with him.

  She moved a little closer as they sparred with their allocated team, trying to pinpoint the problem. There was something almost-imperceptibly sluggish in Reetor’s movements. She studied his face. And a glaze in his eyes she had not seen before. She called the fight to a halt and motioned Reetor to come with her, drawing him into a briefing chamber nearby.

  ‘What is it?’ Her hands were on her hips.

  ‘Nothing, Magister,’ he said, meeting her eyes heroically.

  ‘Bullshit,’ she snapped. ‘I need to know.’

  The big young man shuffled a little on the spot, keeping eye contact.

  Kyn worked hard to pinpoint what she had seen. Not a tremor. Not quite. ‘Are you afraid?’

  ‘No, Magister!’ The boy’s voice was deep like a man and rang with the edge of truth. He took a breath. ‘I’m…’ He rolled his shoulders a little as he searched for the word. ‘…I feel uncertain, since the Hydrentians.’

  Kyn walked closer to him, wishing she could sniff out the problem. His eyes were closed, and the sight shot a thought into her brain. ‘Dreams?’

  His eyes flicked open and they were wide and a little wild. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘How did you know? Did someone hear?’

  Did someone hear? It must have been bad.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s just…normal.’

  Reetor shook his head this time. ‘No,’ he said, casting his eyes down. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Why not?’ Kyn reached out and tipped his chin up. She needed to see his eyes.

  ‘They make me feel crazy,’ he said. ‘The dreams.’ He lifted his hands as though looking for the right gesture to explain what he was feeling but dropped them again and shrugged. ‘They make me want to run.’

  Kyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Don’t run, Reetor,’ she said.

  He nodded, but his head was heavy.

  She pressed on. ‘They’ll find you. There’s nowhere to go.’

  He nodded again.

  Kyn stepped very close to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. ‘I will be there, Reetor. I have never been there before, on any of my trainees’ missions. But this time I will be there. You will be under my protection. I will do all I can.’

  His eyes flicked up at her again at her words. ‘I meant what I said,’ he said, his eyes flashing with truth. ‘I am not afraid.’

  Kyn ran a hand through her buzz cut, feeling the soft prickles comfort her like an old friend. ‘What then?’

  Reetor smiled a small smile that opened something up inside Kyntura. She had to press her fingernails into her palms to stop her from puling him into her embrace and hushing him like a baby. ‘I think I’m going mad,’ he said.

  ***

  She had assured him. We all feel that. It’s normal, a part of this thing we do. But she knew it wasn’t true. She knew some didn’t. She did, she sure as hell did. But she wasn’t Reetor — she knew she didn’t have his kind of brain. Big and beautiful, and prone to too much thinking. Reetor would never dance off the madness; he would never be able bury it in fight and fury. A brain like that — it would chase him and chew at him. God help him, the poor kid.

  But at least he was still there when she wrapped up the pre-brief three hours later.

  ‘Any more questions?’ She folded her arms across her chest, thinking, You poor bastards. What have we gotten you into?

  Tyrin, the big laid-back blond who’d almost lost his lunch during the fire fight in transit, raised a hand. ‘Tyrin,’ she acknowledged.

  ‘Permission to summarise, Magister?’

  She nodded.

  ‘We are to go to this star.’ He waved a hand. ‘The one they call Eden 13. We are to relieve the unit there currently while the Explorers finish their observations.’

  Kyntura nodded again.

  ‘There have been raids,’ the boy went on. ‘And heavy losses, although we are not sure why. It does not seem to be an inhabited planet.’

  ‘Possibly one mined by others for its resources,’ Kyn confirmed. ‘Or maybe these folks just don’t like us getting too close.’

  The boy pushed on. ‘They’re new to us, these others,’ he said.

  Kyn touched the crystalair to show the group the image that had been captured of the ones they called Haitites. Their long, lean bodies glowing orange as they moved in battle formation across a sandy surface. ‘We know they are good fighters,’ she said. ‘Possibly the best we’ve seen.’

  The boy sighed and held up his hands. ‘Easy, then,’ he said. He pressed his fists into his eyes as though they hurt to look at the image on the crystalair.

  ‘Part of our mission is to establish how entrenched the Haitites are on the star, and the nature of their claim, if any, to it.’

  The room fell silent.

  ‘And the most important thing?’

  Tyrin again, hand raised. She nodded at him. ‘No guns,’ he said. ‘Once we land, no guns. The atmosphere can’t take it. The chemistry. It will set the place off.’

  ‘Yep,’ Kyn nodded. ‘We’ll all be toast.’ God, that was going to make it tricky. ‘Really burnt toast.’

  The Avengers in front of her nodded. She prompted again. ‘Any questions?’

  Twelve heads shook back at her. They had been over all of this several times already.

  ‘Right then,’ she said, nodding at them. ‘Rendezvous in the loading dock in two hours. We leave in three.’

  Chapter Nine: The Crucible

  As was her custom, she arrived an hour before the Avengers and crew were due to appear. All the things that ever went wrong did so in the last hour. She wanted to meet trouble head-on.

  Mission crew was always small. When there were so few humans, everything was done with the bare minimum. This mission would have Kyntura and her twelve Avengers; Krysto on munitions (she tried not to think about him); the navigator; and the replacement Explorer. Kyn sighed thinking about Tabi. As the Primo, Kyn would be in charge, but she didn’t like her chances bossing Tabysha around. Tabi was no Avenger, and she’d fancied herself Kyn’s mother for too long to listen to a word Kyn had to say. And damnit if Explorers were not the worst kind of trouble, generally speaking. So smart and so damn curious. It made Kyn’s blood run cold thinking about it.

  She moved through the launch pod one more time, checking equipment and thinking through the details. Symon’s words from the night before kept playing through her mind. We’re not done yet.

  Well, where the hell was he if he wanted to talk to her so badly? He’d better do it soon, because she might not survive this. Might be that none of them did.

  Before anyone else arrived, she needed to invoke her ritual. Everyone had a lucky thing. A trinket, a routine. Hers was this.

  She made her way up to the navigation bay, where the driver/navigator and the munitions Avenger sat. It was small, dark and quiet. She sat in the snug, cool navtube and closed her eyes, imagining how it would all play out. If she did this, it would work like she imagined. At least that’s what she had always told herself.

  She watched it in her mind’s eye. They would land, and there would be no resistance there to meet them. They would make their way overland to the encampment, dig in for the handover and then lead the crew back to the pod so they could get away. They would be swift, silent and careful. They would all make it.

  She tried to understand what was going on down on Eden 13. The intelligence was sketchy. The Explorer down there was optimistic, the atmosphere looked good. Of course, after twelve years of experience, the people of New Earth knew that you couldn’t rely on your first impressions. Some stars had seemed perfect, but the atmosphere took its time to reveal its secret. Kyn shuddered thinking about the stories of Eden 9, where two Avenger crews and nine Explorers has died of slow-release carbon monoxide fumes that seeped from the rocks as the five suns rose.

  It was so far, so good with Eden 13, and the crew had been there a month. But Kyn had not wanted to share that piece of news with her crew. With Kyn, nothing was ever hopeful until it was in the bank, and there were more tests to run. When life dealt you the worst kind of disappointments at a tender age, you learned not to get your hopes up.

  Chicken counting was for the birds.

  Anyway, getting the environment right was only one part of the equation when it came to finding a new home. Juicy little unsettled planets were rare finds — almost every place was claimed by someone or something, whether as a home or a colony or a resource ground. And that was where the Avengers came in — their job, as well as protection for the Explorers, was gathering the military intelligence needed to let the Council make the right determinations. Who were these Haitites? What was their claim on Eden 13? How strong were they? Could they be negotiated with? Could they be overcome?

  Kyn lay in the navtube with her eyes closed, vaguely aware that she still had 53 minutes until the crew and her group rendezvoused, and pondered the questions to which she wouldn’t know the answers until she touched down. She breathed deeply. This part was important — it was like yoga, her mental preparation. She liked to lay it all out; all the knowns and all the unknowns, so she could hold them all in her head unconsciously and let her body take over at the moment the mission went live.

  There was nothing in all the universe that Kyn trusted like she trusted her body.

  She breathed deeply, separating out the scents of life in deep space. That cool disinfectant aroma. She knew the pod would have been sterilised prior to being prepared for the mission. There were bugs in deep space that would have made mince meat of the petty choleras and malarias of planet Earth. The plasticky cloy of the syntak interior. It was a hard smell to get used to, but recycling was the lifeblood of new Earth. She inhaled again, deeply, beginning the process of turning the reins over from her mind to her body. What else was there? Something spicy and sweet, a warm and somehow familiar smell…Kyn’s eyes popped open as she felt something soft brush her lips.

  Her hand snaked out of its own volition and captured the offending finger, twisting it backwards to snapping point before her eyes focused on the person it was attached to. ‘What are you doing here?’ she barked at Symon.

  He pulled the finger from her grasp, and rasped in that sweet growl, ‘That’s my line, Kyn. You’re in my navtube.’

  Kyntura swung out of the tube, having had just about enough of the people from her past determining to get in the way of the job she had to do. It was only when she was close enough to Symon to rip his throat out that she focused on him properly. He was dressed in full Navigator Purple, and she saw that he was very senior and well decorated. So why was he flying this pissy local mission, this…taxi run?

  ‘Your navtube?’ She knew what was coming, but she still had to ask.

  ‘Yep.’ He grinned at her, showing even white teeth. Now how in the hell had he managed that? Most of the inhabitants of New Earth had really let their dental hygiene go when a race of intergalactic beings blew their planet to bits and turned them into wandering refugees.

  ‘You’re my navigator?’

  He bowed low, brushing against her arm infuriatingly with his too-long hair as he did. He was so cocky, so damn certain of himself. He was also so very tall. When had he become so damn tall?

  The navigation bay was relatively tiny, and Kyn couldn’t get past the sheer bear-like size of him in the narrow space. Which would have been fine, but he was looking down at her with laughter in those rich brown eyes. And something else. Something more hooded and secret. Something that made Kyn remember all the times he had tried to catch her and kiss her in their youth.

  He was standing so close, and he captured her hands in his. He was warm, and he smelled so good. He was familiar and yet not. The product of her dreams. And she had no business wanting to stand even closer, run her hands over that dark stubble that peppered his jaw, bury her face in his neck. Especially not when he had somehow done away with her real navigator.

  ‘What about Entoz?’

  ‘Ah,’ Symon said, shrugging delicately. ‘He fell ill. I’m the only one available, sorry, darling.’

  The way he said darling sparked outrage in Kyn’s skin. He sounded like a man used to murmuring endearments to women. She wondered if that was the man he had become, over the last ten years. He was certainly gorgeous enough. When she thought back, he always had been. But he’d also been Symon, her Symon. Her best friend. Her most loyal protector. Like a brother. The thought sat uncomfortably in the space between them and she knew it was a lie. The worst kind of lie. A lie to yourself.

  No, not a brother.

  Symon had never made any secret of his designs on Kyn. And she had always laughed them off. Except for that one time. That one time just before she had gone. And there had been nothing brotherly about what he had done to her on that day.

  She blinked to try to dispel the thoughts of it that crept, sly and wanton, into her brain. Now what had she been trying to…?

  ‘The only nav available, I’m sorry,’ he repeated. But he didn’t look sorry at all.

  Kyn stamped her foot to try to relieve some of the tension clogging up her body. ‘So why were you running your finger along my lips?’

 

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