FRACTURE

by
Roxanne Smolen

ISBN: 0-7443-1627-8
Look for Book 2: Susan’s Gift
Copyright 2008 by Roxanne Smolen
All Rights Reserved
Published by SynergEbooks

http://www.synergebooks.com

CHAPTER 1

Impani leaned against the tree trunk, wishing she were invisible. Her pulse thudded in
her ears. A twig snapped. She gasped, and then bit her lip hard.
The beast gave a low growl.
Dreading what she would see, she peered around the tree. She saw a bristly black snout
and jagged, brown tusks. The beast’s single eye turned in its socket. It stared straight at her.
Impani ran. Her facemask jolted with each step. Thorns reached for her, trying to snag
her, trying to slow her down, but her skinsuit slipped through as if she were made of glass. She
bounded over gullies and fallen branches, her boots skidding and scarring the hard-packed clay.
The clumsy thrashing of the creature sounded right behind her.
She couldn’t keep this up, she thought. She was fast, but the beast had endurance—and
he had it in for her. She shouldn’t have entered its lair. That was one of the first rules she
learned as a cadet. But the cub was so cute.
Sliding down a hillside, she landed on her rump in a mud puddle. A flock of winged
geckos took flight. She glanced to the side and saw the beast detour around the standing water.
Couldn’t bear to get its fur wet.
The thought brought a wry smile. She leapt to her feet, dodging through the forest,
turning back the way she came, back to where she forded the stream, leaving her partner,
Davrileo Mas, digging up his rocks. If she could reach water, the creature might lose interest in
her.
Her new direction took the beast by surprise, but it bellowed an eerie, nasal cry as if to
tell her it still had her in sight. Impani stumbled over the uneven ground, fatigue overrunning her
initial burst of adrenalin. Her breath hitched, and she held her side. The carotene-based plant
life swayed, flagging her path. She pushed through leaves of red and orange, feeling like she
was running through fire.
Ahead, she heard the babble of a shallow stream. Impani forced her burning legs to move
faster, arms pumping, teeth bared. She burst from the crimson trees into bright yellow sunlight,
crashing over the rocky bank, splashing into the stream. Moisture dotted the surface of her
mask. She ran until the water was over her knees, and then risked a glance behind.
The beast paced the bank, its massive, inward-turned paws raking the rocks. Its thick
collar of fur stood straight out.
Impani gnawed her lip. Go away, she thought. Go back to your baby. She sighed when
the animal lowered its ruff and turned to leave.
As she relaxed, an arc of blue-white energy streaked overhead, striking the beast behind
its shoulder. It roared and spun back toward the bank. Impani looked to the opposite shore to
see Davrileo holding out his stat-gun. He fired again.
The blast hit the beast mid-chest. She saw the whiteness of its exposed ribcage, the raw,
black, scorched flesh. The creature flew backward, slamming the ground, its heavy legs
twitching and slashing the air.
“No!” Impani yelled.
Davrileo shot a final time. The beast shuddered and fell silent. Impani looked at her
partner. She wanted to throttle him, wanted to smash his grinning face.
“What do you think you are doing?” she shouted, wading across the stream. “It had a
cub. It was protecting its young.”
“It would have killed you,” Davrileo shouted back.
She moved her hands to tear at her non-existent hair. “It was leaving.”
“A little gratitude might be nice,” he said. “What were you doing over there anyway?
We’re supposed to be partners.”
“We’re explorers.” She looked at the red and black mass that was once a living creature
and thought of the cub alone in its lair. “We aren’t here to butcher the locals.”
“Well, let’s get back to exploring those rocks. This world is a geological haven. I can’t
wait to give my report.”
Impani turned to him, standing gaze to gaze. Disgust seeped into her anger. In a low
voice, she said, “If you’ve cost me my chance—”
She never finished the sentence. A familiar tug grasped the pit of her stomach. Alarms
wailed in the back of her mind.
They were being recalled. The sensation usually triggered disappointment—she could
never learn enough about these distant, alien worlds. But this time she wanted to leave the
planet. She wanted to get back to the academy.
Looking up, she imagined a circle of swirling black energy, although she knew the
Impellic ring was imperceptible. She invented this image of it to calm her fears about traveling
through space without a spaceship.
Darkness formed within her mind. Her vision dimmed, and she closed her eyes. She
sensed tendrils reaching toward her, pulling her from the world on which she stood. The rocky
bank, the sound of the water receded. When she opened her eyes again, she saw only the void—
deep and empty, yet somehow giving the impression of extreme velocity.
Blinding light speared her eyes. Impani winced. She felt a cylinder materialize behind
her, a platform beneath her feet. Her vision wavered, and then focused upon a mirrored room.
The Impellic Chamber. Its many reflections showed Davrileo Mas on the other side of
the cylinder. Impani removed her mask and slid off the hood of her skinsuit, willing her stomach
to catch up.
“Welcome home, cadets,” a voice said through a speaker. “Shower down and report to
debriefing.”
 ***

Impani skidded as she rounded a corner, heading for Debrief.

As she rushed through the door, she saw Davrileo and their supervisor, Ms. Kline,
huddled together, speaking in quiet tones.
She felt a twist of apprehension. “Sorry I’m late, ma’am.”
“Sit down, Impani,” Ms. Kline said, smiling. “Davrileo was telling me about the mineral
deposits the two of you found.”
Her eyes flicked to her partner’s face. “Davrileo located the deposits. He carried the
resonator this trip out.”
“It appears he also secured most of the samples.”
“I took samples,” Impani said, joining them at the table. “I took specimens of trees and
moss and water—”
“I see.”
“A planet is more than a lump of minerals.”
“True,” Kline said. “But when the Board sends colonists to a planet, it’s for a specific
reason—and often that reason is mining rights. As a Colonial Scout, it will be up to you to
assess a world within given parameters—”
“But as cadets, we’re not given parameters,” Impani said. “I wanted to bring back as
much information as we could.”
“You certainly did that,” she said, scrolling down her slate. “You ranked higher than any
other team we sent to that world. But none of them resorted to killing an inhabitant. Tell me
about the animal that attacked you.”
Impani cringed, but held her gaze steady. “It was big, over two meters tall. It ran both
upright and on all fours. It had one eye, and its head swiveled.”
“Extraordinary,” Kline said. “This is the first report we’ve had of a Cyclops creature. A
shame it had to be destroyed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She looked at Davrileo, knowing they’d lost any points she’d made for
finding the beast.
Davrileo cleared his throat, sitting straighter. “My partner was in imminent danger.”
“And as partners, you work together, watch out for one another?” Kline looked back and
forth at each of them. “I ask because of a discrepancy in sensor readings. Impani, you show an
increase in body temperature, adrenalin—”
“I was running from the beast.”
“For twenty minutes?”
Impani blinked. Had she strayed that deeply into the woods?
“Yet, Davrileo’s readings are calm,” Kline said, consulting the slate. “Almost as if you
were in separate places.”
“Impani wandered away,” Davrileo said.
“I wasn’t wandering. I was exploring.”
“Might have gotten us both killed,” he muttered.
“That’s absurd,” Impani cried. “You shot that poor thing in the back.”
“He was coming at you,” Davrileo shouted. “If I hadn’t shown up—”
“Thank you, Davrileo,” Kline said. “You are dismissed.”
Davrileo glared at Impani. Pushing back his chair, he strode from the room.
 Impani pursed her lips. She felt overheated. Gazing out the window, she concentrated on
gathering her anger into a ball and squeezing it smaller.
Kline said, “Impani, you’re at the top of your class. You aced all your studies, and you
grasped Impellic theory and logic faster than any sixteen-year-old girl I ever taught. But this is
the second report of you leaving your partner.”
She folded her arms. “I just think you can see more of a planet if you don’t keep your
nose stuck to an instrument screen.”
“Scouting is a dangerous business. That’s why all Scouts are dispatched in pairs. They’d
send them out in groups if they could, but a ring can transport only two at a time.”
“I know.”
“The point is you have to work with other people.”
She gritted her teeth. “He shot that creature in the back.”
Kline sighed. “All right. You can go.”
“At least, take my specimens into consideration.”
“Get some rest, Impani. You’re on duty first thing tomorrow morning.”
 CHAPTER 2

A hearth dominated the Main Floor Eatery, spotlighted in the center of the room. Flames
shot to the ceiling. Fingers of mist laced the brightness, drawing auras about the chefs. In
contrast, the shadowed perimeter formed a silent band of seclusion.
Impani walked the line where shadow met light. The heat of the grill touched one side of
her face. Conditioned air chilled the other. Silhouettes embroidered the darkness. She slowed,
squinting for details.
“Over here,” a voice whispered.
“Morning.” Impani smiled, slipping into a crescent-shaped booth. The sides of the booth
arced overhead, blotting out the sound and sight of other early risers. She lifted a glass from a
puddle of condensation. “You ordered nectar? What’s the occasion?”
“Our almost graduation. But as usual, you’re late.”
“I’m sorry,” Impani said. “I would have been on time, but I bumped into poor old Mr.
Ambri-Cutt in the hall.”
“That raffer follows you around like a puppy.”
“He’s harmless.”
“He’s a lecherous geezer. Besides, he’s a tech. They aren’t supposed to be talking to
us.”
“He likes to show off—even let me into a control room once,” Impani said, chuckling.
“If you get caught, you’ll both be in deep drel.”
A clatter overrode Impani’s response. Two chefs collided, dropping a breakfast platter.
Several daem eggs rolled under a counter.
Her friend said, “I love the floorshow here. Between the chefs and the servers, it’s
almost a dance.”
Impani grinned at her. Of all the people she had met since her acceptance into the
academy, she felt most at ease with Natica Galos. Relaxing against the cushion, she removed the
string of emerald pearls she wore draped across her smooth scalp.
Natica said, “Those are new. Another secret admirer?”
“They’re from that boy who took me to the vids last week.” Impani handed them to her.
“Are they real?”
“We can only assume. Whose turn is it to buy?”
“Yours. And I’m famished.” Natica tossed the pearls onto the seat next to her, and then
activated the menu. Pictographs hovered over the table.
Impani studied the floating images. “I think I’ll have a sweet cake.” She made her
selection, and the holographic menu vanished.
“So, you didn’t tell me,” Natica said. “How was the session yesterday?”
 “It was wonderful. They sent us to a wooded world. The plant life was amazing—deep
reds and ocher. Carotene based, not chlorophyll. We would have scored pretty well, except—”
“Here it comes.”
“I stopped to look at a cub in its lair. It was so little—who would have thought its father
would be so huge?”
Natica grinned. “What did you do?”
“I ran. It chased me halfway across the continent, seemed just about to give up when
Davrileo Mas came to my rescue. He butchered the beast on the spot.”
“And you think you’ll lose points for that?”
Impani shook her head. “He didn’t even try to ward it off.”
“Maybe he was afraid,” Natica said. “I would have been.”
“But to kill it . . .”
Natica placed her fingers on Impani’s arm. “Pani, not every session needs to be
spectacular. You’re sure to make the program.”
“Well, in two days we’ll find out, won’t we?” Impani sipped her nectar, feeling
embarrassed and misunderstood. She thought about the mewling cub and hoped it had a mother
to care for it. “How did you do on the physics exam?”
“Passed everything but Impellics.” Natica groaned. “My downfall.”
“Everyone hates that subject. People tend to reject what they can’t see.”
“I’ll never get it.”
“Sure you will.” Impani shrugged, wishing she could explain her trick of visualizing the
ring. “You know, once I thought a single black hole would devour the universe. But in reality
the hole isn’t expanding, it’s contracting. Along with space and light and time, it’s also sucking
in itself. Then one day, poof, it disappears and all that’s left is an Impellic ring. And what you
do is take, say, three of them . . .” She smeared the condensation from her drink, drawing three
concentric circles. “The big one powers the other two, and the middle one powers the last. Zips
you through space just like stepping through a door.”
Natica laughed. “If only you were the instructor. You have such a simple way of
looking at things.” She toyed with the strand of pearls. “Speaking of simple, I saw Robert
Wilde yesterday. Obnoxious as ever. All he talked about was you.”
Impani hid behind her glass of nectar. “Really?”
“I heard he got another three-day suspension for fighting. He’s such an outlaw.”
“He’s a bully,” Impani said. “I don’t know why I ever became involved—”
“He says you’re in love with him,” Natica told her. “Are you?”
“No.” Impani set down the glass, and then looked away. She remembered the night she
told Robert she didn’t want to see him anymore. He stood outside her room, his face dark and
his hands clenched, making her too nervous to fall asleep. She wasn’t afraid of him—not
exactly, although she was wary of his quick temper. But lately, she caught glimpses of him in
improbable places, and she wondered if he was following her.
A server approached, breaking her reverie. He set their meals before them and retreated
without speaking. Privacy was the Eatery’s greatest asset.
Impani sliced the sweet cake into quarters. Dried fruit crumbled onto her plate. “It’s
strange that in all the time we’ve been at the academy, we’ve never been partners.”
“Computer glitch.” Natica leaned forward, removing the top of her egg. She coaxed out
a black tentacle with the flat of her spoon. “I wouldn’t mind being paired with the new guy.”
“Trace Hanson? You must be joking. He’s a convict, a common criminal.”
 “A good-looking common criminal. Aren’t you the least bit intrigued?”
Impani pictured the boy—legs stretched before him, conspicuously slouched in the back
of the room. He arrived at the academy three months ago and was promptly ostracized, the other
recruits whispering.
“I’ve been running from his kind all my life,” she said.
“I wonder what his crime was.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Natica shrugged, eating her breakfast.
Impani pushed her own plate away. “I don’t know why they let people like him in the
academy.”
“They almost have to, don’t they? I mean, with the drop in new recruits. Now is the best
time to get into the program.”
“No, it’s tougher than ever,” Impani said. “One more incident of lost colonists and
they’ll shut us down for good. The government needs reliable Scouts to get those people onto
safe worlds.”
“That’s where you and I come in.”
Impani smiled. “Right.”
Hugging her arms, she gazed from the shadows. The grill flared, and a chef jogged
backwards. How different her life was here, she thought—so removed from the warlords and
rats, the perpetual darkness of the streets.
No doubt, the same environment spawned Trace Hanson. But while she fought to rise
above her origins, he obviously carried his with him. Criminal. Troublemaker. She couldn’t
afford to be intrigued.
They finished their meals and left the eatery, stepping into the central tower. A thrill
swept through Impani as she moved through the wide corridor, and she smiled at her naiveté—
she would never grow accustomed to the sight.
Gilded archways adorned the ebony walls. Glass-bottomed lifts scaled the heights. Open
terraces created a latticework of light bars that merged two hundred stories above.
Impani gazed upward as she walked, wishing she could stay forever. But her days at the
academy were done. She knew Natica worried about not making the program, about being sent
back to her family’s dockside fishery on the watery planet of Naiad. Impani had much more to
lose—she expected to be executed if she returned home. That was the price she paid for
freedom—the secret she kept even from Natica.
The tower was peaceful so early in the morning. The silence wouldn’t last long. Soon
the halls would swarm with other hopefuls, all of them chattering and laughing, all vying for a
chance to prove their worth. But despite the competition, there was camaraderie among the
cadets she’d never known.
She would miss this place, Impani thought. Pass or fail, she would never see it again, and
she wondered if she would remember the academy as being the beginning or the end of her
adventure.
With a stifled squeal, Natica caught her arm, swinging her around and pulling her to the
side. “There he is.”
Impani blinked, frowning. She looked where Natica pointed.
Then she saw him. Trace Hanson.
 He walked alone along the far side of the corridor, his gait slow and deliberate, eyes
downcast. He was tall. His shoulders were so wide they strained his tunic, and Impani
wondered what it would be like to be held close by those muscular arms.
“You should go over and say hello,” Natica said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Impani said, more alarmed at the turn her thoughts had taken than
at her friend’s suggestion.
Natica grinned, nudging her. “Go on. This is your last chance. In two days you may
never see him again.”
Impani squirmed from her prodding fingers. “You’re the one who was intrigued.”
“All right,” Natica said. “I’ll go.”
“No!” Impani giggled, pulling Natica back.
Just then, her gaze met his.
Trace Hanson’s eyes were black, deep-set like a hawk’s. They made her feel he could
see right through her, that he already knew her secrets, her faults.
Impani felt her face redden. She turned her back to him, hissing, “Stop it.”
Natica asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
“He knows we’re talking about him.”
“Well, like I said, this is the last time we’ll ever see him.”
Impani glanced over her shoulder. With relief, she saw that Trace had turned down an
adjacent hallway and was out of sight.
Laughing, Natica hugged Impani’s neck. They continued walking down the massive
corridor, footsteps echoing as if in a cavern. At last, they reached an oblong touch plate in the
center of the hall. A few cadets loafed about, receiving their assignments. Above them, a roster
listed the members of the Colonial Expansion Board.
Natica approached the plate, pressing her palm against the dark surface. Letters appeared
over her fingers: REGISTER GALOS, NATICA H. REPORT TO MEDITATION ROOM 23B.
Natica smiled, moving aside, allowing Impani to take her place. The touch plate acknowledged
her. REGISTER IMPANI, NLN. REPORT TO MEDITATION ROOM 8A.
Impani stepped back. “It looks like we won’t be partners this time either.”
“I’ve got to get going. I’m all the way on the other side,” Natica said. She headed for an
arched vestibule, calling over her shoulder, “Be spectacular!”
“Good luck,” said Impani, her voice dropping.
She turned back the way she came and entered a narrow hallway. Stark white lights
crisscrossed the walls with shadow. A muffled quiet grew, holding the winding passage
separate, out of reach of the main hall. The silence was unnerving. No one passed her. She was
accustomed to the afternoon shift, with people coming and going in all directions.
“Four A, Four B, Six A.”
She counted the rooms aloud, first swinging her arms, and then wrapping them about her
chest. At last, she reached room 8A. A green light shone over the door. Impani glanced toward
meditation room 8B. The light blinked red. Locked. Her partner was already inside.
She held her palm against the reader, and the door slid open. Impani stepped into the
cubicle, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. This was the hardest part, she thought—the
moments before the test. She let out her breath in a cleansing whoosh, and then looked around.
The room held a battered couch along one wall and a table with a chipped pedestal along
another. A non-denominational altar stood in the corner. There were no windows. Light
flickered from a panel in the ceiling.
 Impani sat upon the edge of the couch. She crossed and uncrossed her legs. Be
spectacular, Natica had told her. She would have to be spectacular if she were to make the
program.
She wondered who her partner would be—hopefully someone who wasn’t afraid to take a
chance. Vinod Mouallem would be a good choice, or Anselmi, the tall humanoid from Veyt.
Anyone but Davrileo . . . or Robert Wilde.
Standing, Impani approached a small mirror and slid the strand of pearls from her brow.
She hated that she had no hair. Miserable skinsuits. The techs wanted nothing between her flesh
and their sensors. She traced the white remains of a scar along her collarbone. Even the marks
left by her childhood were smoothed away.
Her fingers closed upon the crystal star she wore about her neck—the only piece of
jewelry that meant anything to her. The necklace had been a gift from the old woman who raised
her on the streets. It was Impani’s tenth birthday—or at least the day they chose to be her
birthday. The old woman said the necklace was the one possession she hadn’t pawned.
“Life has a way of dimming our resolve,” she’d told her. “We tend to lose sight of our
goals. Only one in a hundred has the vision to hold onto their dreams. Be that person for me.”
Impani never found out where the old woman had gotten the necklace, or why it was so
important that she’d saved it all those years. She’d died shortly thereafter. But her words came
to mind, often late at night, and Impani wished she’d lived long enough to see her now.
Turning from the mirror, Impani tugged her tunic over her head. A line of equipment
edged a shelf above the table, and she took each piece down with care.
From a sealed pouch, she shook out her skinsuit. It was lightweight, finely ribbed with
minute sensors and equalizers. She slid her fingers beneath a triple seam, laying it open. The
texture was the same on either side. Gathering the suit in her hands, she pushed her foot inside.
It molded to the contours of her toes, the curve of her ankle. Impani pulled it up her thigh,
keeping the ribbing straight and the fabric even. The tightness eased as the suit adjusted.
She gathered the other leg. Leaning against the wall, she drew the fabric taut along her
skin, smoothing it upward to her waist. Environmental sensors weighted the sleeves, and she
worked her hands into them, positioning the readers over her forearms, pushing through the wrist
cuffs and into the gloves.
Looking in the mirror, Impani rolled the hood onto her naked scalp, fitting it over her
ears, across her brow. She adjusted the insulator band at her forehead, tightening it beneath her
chin, and then ran her fingers down the triple seam, making sure each was sealed. In her
reflection, they appeared invisible.
“Done in record time,” Impani said, appraising herself.
The silver skinsuit lent sheen to her body, picking up the colors of the room as if she
were camouflaged. It conformed to her so neatly she could count every rib. It was so flexible,
she felt naked.
Carefully, she uncoiled her utility belt.
“Hooks and clamps, metallic twine,” she whispered, running through her supplies. “The
refit date on the stat-gun is current. The med-pac is full.”
She noticed the sonic resonator. She would be in charge of taking scans this trip. Maybe
that would give her control over whether she and her partner explored their surroundings or just
sat looking at pretty rocks.
 Smiling, Impani wrapped the belt about her waist. The latch wouldn’t close. She tried
again, slamming the pin into the closure, wiggling the clasp. At last, the ready light gave a
satisfying blink.
She piled her clothes and the strand of pearls onto the couch, placing her necklace on top.
Turning to face an interior wall, she took a deep breath. This session will be my most
spectacular, Impani promised herself. She wiped her gloved hand against her hip, and then
pressed her palm against the wall. A panel slid away, exposing the Impellic Chamber. Impani
smiled, tossing back a mane of phantom hair, and stepped inside.
Mirrors encased the room, causing light to bounce at odd angles. A silver cylinder stood
upon a raised dais, meeting its image in the ceiling. There were no computer monitors, no panels
of flashing lights—such adornments were saved for the control room. Impani imagined
technicians filling the control room, watching her through the mirrors.
She crossed the room and sat upon the platform, legs dangling over the edge. Her partner
hadn’t left meditation. Leave it to her to arrive too early. She swung her legs, feeling the weight
of her boots, and saw a hundred images of herself move in sync.
The technicians were watching. Would Mr. Ambri-Cutt be among them? The thought
made her self-conscious.
Jumping down from the dais, Impani circled the room. The reflective floor hindered her
step, as if she walked upon a pool of water. Probably the only place in the galaxy where a person
didn’t have a shadow.
Behind her, she heard the panel from room 8B slide open. Her partner. Turning, Impani
smiled, and felt the smile freeze upon her face.
It was Trace Hanson.
 CHAPTER 3

Impani stared at her partner, struggling to gather her wits. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Impani.”
“Trace.” He held out his hand.
Stepping forward, she grasped his fingers. He seemed almost shy—not the criminal she
expected. Impani offered a tentative smile, but he only looked at her.
“Nice to meet you,” she murmured, backing away, all thought scattering beneath the
force of his gaze. She reached the chromed platform and pretended to adjust her mask, watching
his reflection in the mirror.
Trace moved toward the silver cylinder. His skinsuit glowed, outlining his body.
Muscles rippled along his arms. He frowned as if deep in thought. Was he thinking of her?
Stop it, she told herself. Focus on why you are here.
She flexed the hinges on her mask and connected them to the insulator band at her
temples. The mask felt bulky, weighted with chemicals on either side, making her head heavy.
Sealing the mask about her face, Impani climbed onto the platform.
The room brightened, and her heartbeat rose in response. Soon she would be standing on
an alien world. She pressed into the niche along the side of the cylinder. In the mirror, she saw
Trace do the same.
The light grew to searing intensity. A low-pitched hum rattled her chest. From behind
closed eyes, Impani saw the Impellic ring. It spiraled upon itself, trailing black arms like the
feeder bands of a hurricane. Impani felt it reach for her, pulling her from the Chamber.
Darkness fell, and Impani tensed with vertigo, spinning into the void.
One one-thousandths, two one-thousandths. She counted, reassuring herself that only
seconds had passed. Currents carried her, swirling into emptiness. Abruptly, her progress
stopped.
For a moment, she had the uncomfortable impression of flattening against some barrier—
then, with a tearing sensation, the barrier parted.
Impani blinked in the faint glow of dawn. She felt sand beneath her feet, the steady
pressure of a breeze upon her back. Dunes scalloped the horizon and edged scattered patterns of
tumbled rock. Nearby, a group of stumpy trees reached like human hands from shadow.
Impani smiled, pivoting on the heels of her boots. “It’s beautiful.”
“We’re not here to sightsee,” Trace told her. “Please run your scans.”
“I know the routine.” Impani unclipped the sonic resonator from her belt and opened it
with a flick of her hand. A color-enhanced projection filled the instrument’s tiny screen. “I’m
picking up air pockets in the group of rocks ahead.”
Trace held a pair of tri-view field glasses to his mask. “They’re called caves.”
“Whatever.” Impani felt her face redden. “I suppose you’re an expert.”
 “I spent time in a mine.”
Of course, Impani thought. In the penal colony.
“It appears your caves are the only point of interest.” Trace folded the glasses and
hooked them to his belt. “It will be a bit of a hike to get there.”
Impani stretched out her arms, dancing. “We’re in the middle of a desert. It’s going to
be a hike to get anywhere.”
Nodding, Trace headed toward the rocks.
The guy has no sense of wonder, Impani thought. She checked the environmental sensors
upon her sleeve. The readings shone green—oxygen normal. Raising her mask upon its hinges,
she breathed deeply of the alien air. The breeze was warm and dry, rich with spicy overtones.
Impani slid the mask until it rested upon her head, hurrying to catch her partner. “I smell
sage,” she told him.
Trace glanced at her, increasing his pace. “We haven’t tested the atmosphere, Impani.”
“We’re students. They wouldn’t send us to a toxic world.”
“Mistakes happen.”
Impani fell silent—then smiled when, after a moment, he lifted his mask.
Close up, the trees looked even more like wretched hands, the bark smooth and lifeless,
limbs thick and bent. In the palm of one, Impani found the stringy remains of a bird’s nest and
two broken eggshells, each the size of her thumbnail. She sealed a sample of the shell in a
specimen container.
A gust of wind peppered them with sand. Impani looked toward the horizon. Bands of
light brought muted color to the sky.
“Do you suppose this entire planet is desert?” she asked.
Trace looked about. “It would make sense. That way each team would be up against the
same conditions.”
Impani thought of the other students scattered in pairs across the planet’s surface, each
trying to out-do the next. She turned toward her partner. “Let’s not search the caves.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s expected. Because every recruit of every session before us must have
searched those caves. I want to do something spectacular. I want to see what’s over that rise.”
“Absolutely not. We’re Scouts, not tourists. If we’re expected to search the caves, then
that’s what we should do.”
“We’re not Scouts yet,” Impani said, “and we never will be if we don’t show them we
can take a chance.”
Trace continued walking, and Impani trotted after him.
“Look,” she said, “what’s the point of these testing sessions? To scout out as much of the
planet as possible and to report something that’s never been seen before, right? Well, we aren’t
going to do that from inside a cave that’s obviously been set up as a first stop.”
“This is a desert. We could walk for hours and not see anything but sand.”
“That’s where the part about taking a chance comes in, but Trace . . . Trace!”
Trace grunted, throwing his hands into the air. He walked with exaggerated gestures.
Impani kicked the sand, glaring at his back.
He was impossible, she thought. He had no daring, no love of adventure. How could he
have been promoted to her class in just three months? Turning toward the sunrise, Impani
squinted into the light and wondered what was beyond the stretch of open land.
 Trace felt the thud of his boots upon the sand as he stormed away. He knew he should
pace himself, but at that moment, all he wanted was to get away from his partner. She was
reckless, heedless. An obvious troublemaker. Right when he needed to prove he could be a
model Scout.
He remembered the first time he saw Impani—he’d bumped into her in the doorway of
the Astrophysics Lab. Her eyes were so bright a shade of green, they’d startled him. She wore
an expensive piece of jewelry across her forehead.
Obviously, she was rich. He’d known many rich girls—empty headed and trite, treating
him as if he were a prize, or worse, like he was incidental.
All they wanted was his family’s land. His father couldn’t see it, hosting affair after gala
affair, trying to trap him with matrimony. He wanted his only son to remain at the plantation and
manage the family holdings. But Trace was seventeen years old. He wanted to see the galaxy,
not settle down into marriage. That as much as anything led him to leave home, taking a job as
an off-loader on the Umiak.
A rash decision. Look what became of it. Trace scowled at the memory, lengthening his
stride. Shadows grew before him, accenting the dips and swirls of sand as sunlight strengthened
at his back.
His father would adore Impani, Trace thought. Beautiful. Stubborn. The problem was,
she was right—the caves would have been previously scouted, and he doubted he would find
anything of interest there.
He would improvise, he told himself. He’d prove to the Board that he could succeed, that
they were right to take a chance on him. His only alternative was prison. Trace leaned into a
gust of wind, walking away from his partner.

Impani faced the rising sun. She knew she was wasting time. No one would blame her if
she headed toward the rise alone.
Or would they? In their debriefing yesterday, Davrileo Mas reported that she wandered
away and had to be rescued. If she walked off again, would she be labeled a loner, someone who
didn’t work well with others?
Her shoulders sank as if she were deflating. She’d come too far to risk everything now.
She would have to make amends if she were to salvage the session. She turned, looking for her
partner.
Trace Hanson was a silhouette, distant and dark. He had not slackened his pace waiting
for her. Beyond him, naked boulders gleamed white against their shadow like the bones of the
desert.
Impani rushed to catch up. By the time she reached him, she was panting. They walked
in silence for several moments.
“You were right about the hike,” Impani said. “My legs are getting tired.” She paused
for an answer then continued upon his silence. “Will you do one thing for me? Before we crawl
into your caves, can we climb to the top of the rocks for a minute, just to look around?”
Trace walked briskly. Impani listened to the quickness of his breath. All around, dunes
rose and fell in silent monotony.
 She said, “All right, how about if I do all the climbing?”
Just then, an animal stepped from behind the rocks. It was large, at least a meter and a
half at the shoulder, its fur thick and shaggy. The two cadets froze.
As if unaware of them, the creature turned its back, worrying the lower rocks, nuzzling
each crevice. It snorted, stirring the loose sand.
Impani watched a serpentine tail flick an unseen pest from the air.
Beside her, Trace whispered, “Take the safety off your stat-gun. In case it attacks.”
“No,” Impani said. “We’re not here to butcher the locals. We’ll approach it slowly.
Show it we can be friends.”
Neither one moved.
Impani nudged her partner. “Go on. It has hooves. It doesn’t eat meat.”
Trace said, “Perhaps it’s not aware of that rule.” He glanced behind them as if plotting a
course back to the trees.
Time to take a chance, Impani thought, stepping forward.
The bovine head lifted, looking at her, large eyes rolling beneath a heavy fringe of lashes.
It exhaled. Impani tensed, awaiting the animal’s charge. They regarded each other in silence.
The beast turned away, continuing to root.
What was it looking for? Impani wondered, craning her neck.
She saw a slender blue flower poking out of the sand. The animal snapped up the
blossom with its teeth. Great cloven feet moved the sand away, exposing hidden tubers.
“Plant life,” Trace said, stepping beside her, “living off the condensation from the rocks.
Your friend may be vegetarian after all.”
Impani felt a rush of adrenaline, as she always did when she was about to do something
extraordinary. “My friend is going to help us tour the desert.”
“What? Impani, wait!”
Impani moved nearer. She smelled the musky, heavy fur. The animal shifted, raising its
head. She held out her hand, standing so close she could almost touch its nose. It snorted,
moving away.
In a single, fluid movement, Impani grabbed the coarse fur, swinging onto its back. The
animal bucked, spinning in circles, trying to throw her. It brayed in a strange, bawling manner.
“Come on,” Impani called to Trace. “Or stay behind.”
Trace ran toward the thrashing animal. Impani leaned low, reaching for him. Her partner
hesitated. As if prodded, he leapt onto the creature’s back.
The beast shuddered beneath them. Its heavy feet kicked a cloud of sand. It tossed its
head, eyes bulging.
Suddenly, it ran.
Impani clung to the scruff of the animal’s neck. She felt the movement of muscles
beneath her thighs, felt heat rise from the creature’s overwrought body. She pressed with her
knees, trying to steer, and it reared, bucking and spinning.
Losing her balance, Impani slipped from the bony ridge of spine, edging down its ribs.
Flying sand struck the side of her face. The hooves thundered.
“Stop! Stop!” she cried, clawing the dense fur.
She held on with her legs, trying to lever herself up. Trace grabbed for her belt, but
missed. Impani slammed against the animal’s side, sliding nearer the flashing hooves. Latching
onto her shoulder, Trace pulled her upright.
 Trembling, she nodded her thanks. She leaned forward against the animal’s neck,
holding tight, her stomach flip-flopping.
Around them, the day brightened, painting the sand gold. Long shadows fell from a
pyramid of rocks. Ahead, she saw a wide stretch of land. Animals stood in groups.
“Look!” Impani cried, sitting up and pointing.
The brute spun again, kicking. Impani and Trace flew into the air.
Impani flailed her arms, striking the ground. Pain exploded with the brilliance of stars.
She turned her face from the sand, gulping the dusty air, drawing her knees against her aching
chest. The hooves continued pounding, becoming distant.
Then Trace appeared at her side, brushing the sand away, helping her to sit. He leaned
close, cupping her face in his hands. His eyes hardened.
“Some tour,” he said.
Laughter bubbled in Impani’s throat. She got to her feet. “Look what we’ve found.”
Animals clustered in a valley a short distance away. Some looked like small camels,
others like bushy goats. They milled about, acting nervous and skittish.
Looking around, she saw why. A lizard creature circled the herds, pulling itself up to a
full meter’s height and running on its hind legs. It held its thick tail out behind it, front claws
close to its chest.
A predator. Impani dropped to a crouch, glancing to either side. If the creature turned
toward her and Trace, the closest refuge was thirty meters behind them.
Her shaggy tour guide slowed to a stop, joining a group of similar animals. Impani saw a
second reptile edge forward from the opposite direction. She thought the bovine beasts would
run, but they moved only a short distance away, keeping tight within their group. Why were they
waiting?
Suddenly, the sand rolled, forming a ribbon that darkened and oozed. The animals
stirred, moving toward its edge.
Impani narrowed her eyes. Tugging at Trace’s elbow, she stole toward the valley’s sandy
slope.
Liquid welled out of the ground—a thick, colorless liquid that rolled in currents like a
river. The animals drank side-by-side, even the dragon-like predators. The stiff water dripped in
strands from their jaws, leaving slimy patches upon their forelegs.
Leaves formed along the river’s edge, green shoots twisting and reaching for the light.
The fluid ebbed, sinking into the ground, leaving a strip of depressed sand. In its wake, hundreds
of plants shot up, their leaves unfurling rapidly, spreading like a carpet.
The predators moved back, apparently sated. But the other animals grazed feverishly, as
if time were running out—and, indeed, many of the plants on the outermost reaches were wilted
and dark, the heat of the sand crisping them.
Impani crept nearer, fascinated.
Trace grabbed her arm.
Fifteen meters away, a reptilian face lifted from a dune of sand, watching them, its eyes
black and expressionless. Jutting out its neck, it opened its jaws, exposing a double row of
hooked teeth.
Impani’s breath caught in her throat. She watched the creature climb to the top of the
dune.
In a low voice, Trace said, “Keep your eyes on him. I’m reaching for my gun.”
 No, Impani thought. That wasn’t why they were there. She remembered the slaughtered
beast in the carotene forest—and Davrileo Mas smiling. From the corner of her eye, she saw her
partner move his hand toward his belt.
“Hey,” she called, waving her arms and leaping forward. “Hey, get away, you dumb
lizard.”
The creature blinked once, and then ran straight at them.
Impani spun, heading toward the rocks. Her eyes darted. Trace ran alongside, his stat-
gun still holstered. He glanced at Impani then looked away, and she felt as if he’d slapped her,
called her a fool. Indignation quickened her pace.
Hot sand kicked up, tapping her back as her stride lengthened and ate the distance.
Breathe, she told herself, puffing out her cheeks. Her boots skimmed the ground. Her belt
slapped her hips.
She heard the reptile following, closing fast on agile legs. Rocks loomed ahead. She
concentrated upon them, memorizing every ledge, every possible handhold. Her vision bounced,
blurring with each step. A stitch developed in her side.
The creature’s great tail whipped the air as it ran. It was right behind her. Impani fled
blindly. Her belt drummed against her hips. Pain spread along her ribcage, igniting an inferno in
her chest. The belt dropped off.
The belt!
She dove into the sand.
Trace dodged, running. “Come on!” he called.
Impani glanced behind her. The lizard leapt, tumbling over her shoulders. It landed upon
its back, clawing the air. Impani grabbed the belt and swung, striking the beast between its eyes.
It hissed, arching its body, unable to get up.
Scrabbling backward, Impani struggled to her feet. Ahead, Trace reached the boulders.
She draped the belt about her neck, running after him.
The rocks were larger than she expected. Sunlight drew shadows from the crevices.
Where were the handholds she noticed before?
Jumping and kicking, Impani launched herself at the rock, fingers gouging and sliding
back down. Behind her, the lizard’s tail thrashed, and then fell silent. It had gained its feet.
Where were the handholds?
Impani leapt at the unyielding rock. Suddenly, Trace reached down. She gasped,
grasping his hand, pulling her spent body higher. Her shoulders burned with fatigue. Her legs
shook.
The reptile’s claws scrabbled against the rock below. Its heavy tail lashed the sand.
Impani drew her boots out of its reach and leaned into Trace Hanson’s arms.
Safe, she thought. She didn’t want to open her eyes, wanted only to sink deeper into the
embrace of this boy she barely knew.
The dragon creature hissed at them.
“Why didn’t you shoot it?” she asked.
“We aren’t here to butcher the locals.”
Impani chuckled then sniffed against a sting of tears. “I think I’ve had enough
sightseeing for one day.”
“Come on,” Trace said. “Let’s climb to the top of these rocks. Just to look around.”
 Nodding, Impani followed her partner. The boulders were smooth, scoured by wind, the
gaps between them filled with sand. Impani narrowed her eyes, concentrating upon the climb.
She felt flushed with exertion.
With a final burst of energy, she pulled herself to the top. Dunes spread before her in an
endless sea, and she stood slowly so as not to break the spell.
“Here, let me see that,” Trace said, reaching for the belt draped over her shoulder. “The
clasp is loose.”
“I know. I should have requested a replacement.”
“Yes, you should have.”
Impani looked up at his sharp words, but his expression belied his tone. Trace moved
close, wrapping the belt about her waist. Impani held her breath. She felt the strength of his
arms about her, felt her flesh tingle with his touch.
She pulled away. What was she doing? He was a criminal, a grim reminder of her past.
She turned her back, fastened the belt and gave it a tug.
“I guess we should have searched the caves after all,” she said. “Now, we’re trapped up
here.”
“It doesn’t matter. Do you feel it? The ring is coming.”
Impani looked at him. Emotions warred within. “No,” she said, “it’s too soon.”

***

Newton Ambri-Cutt sat behind his console in the control room at the academy. He
thought about Impani. She was the brightest cadet he’d ever met. He loved talking to her about
his job, seeing that little light of comprehension behind her eyes. It made him proud of her, as if
she were his own daughter.
His true daughter, Miriette, was Impani’s age. He hadn’t seen her in five years, not since
the divorce. It made it easy to imagine she and Impani were alike—brilliant and ambitious, a
little rebellious. And beautiful. Miriette must certainly be as beautiful as Impani.
A red light caught his attention, and he reached for it automatically, catching his
reflection in the screen of a monitor.
A bit of gray, a bit more of a paunch, he thought, but not so very old. Perhaps he should
get away from work more often, go out on a date once in a while. He could remarry, maybe
have another daughter. He could even name her Impani. He would watch her grow, becoming
all the things he’d failed to be, taking Impellics a step beyond. She might even introduce her old
man to computational linguists and script authors as she topped the ranks of computer science.
Suddenly, a klaxon sounded. Ambri-Cutt snapped forward. His console blazed with
flashing lights.
Chief Astrut burst into the room. “Holy seas, Newton. What are you doing?
Daydreaming?”
“The ring is losing integrity.” Ambri-Cutt’s fingers flew over the control board, touching
lights in sequence, trying to hold the Impellic field together.
“It’s fragmenting,” the Chief said, consulting a panel on the wall. “Override it! We’ve
got people out there.”
Impani! Ambri-Cutt thought. Impani’s out there! Sweat ran down his temple. He
slammed his fingers against the console as if by sheer force he could re-weave the fraying
energy.
 Behind him, the Chief tapped commands into the computer. “Switching to back up.”
But Ambri-Cutt knew failure was imminent. With growing horror, he watched the lights
turn steady red. His mind raced his fingers, diverting power from one coil to the next, but he was
unable to affect the cascading collapse.
Impani.
What had he done?
“My God,” he said, looking at the Chief. “I’ve lost her.”

***

“The ring can’t be coming,” Impani said. “They’re recalling us too soon.”
“Maybe a shortened session is part of the test,” Trace said, walking to the edge of the
rock.
Impani frowned, looking out at the dune desert, committing it to memory. She sensed the
approach of the Impellic ring. Disappointment closed over her like a shroud. The session was
over. Why would they take her so soon?
Vertigo wrenched away her thoughts. She doubled up, grasping her stomach as if
suffering a physical blow.
“What’s happening?” she cried, staggering. “Something’s wrong.”
Trace turned, reaching for her in slow motion. His face elongated.
Impani screamed. She felt the ring twist, felt tearing pain as if her body were turning
inside out. Panic stirred a whirlwind in her mind.
What was going on? What was wrong with the ring?
Pulsebeat ravaged her ears. Pressure built until she thought her head would explode.
Then darkness grabbed hold, a demon tightening its fist, and she fell into the void.