{Gait}

Korac ran faster than normal eyesight. So that meant the treading floor struggled to keep up or provide any sort of challenge for him. Platinum weights from Pil strapped to his ankles and wrists slowed him down enough to equalize the machine for recreation. When he wasn’t recreating with a certain hot blond General, he spent his time this way or reading.

To an outsider, his prison sentence sounded relaxing. But memories resurfaced in his nightmares. The toxic smell of this place unearthed events he loathed to relive. Helping Pehton helped Sagan. Helped Rayne. It also caused some trouble for his old world.

That, he didn’t mind one bit—

“You always smirk while working out?” Pehton called from the other side of the nacre-deterring barrier.

Korac barely heard her through the ear inserts from L. Caprent. Sagan even loaded them with music for him. He smirked a little wider. A mixtape from his lover.

“Elden, who knew one joke would make you smile so much?” The Lyrik teased, but he knew his ease unnerved her.

“Executive Warden.” Korac turned to face her with sweat glistening on his shirtless body. Loose drawstring pants hung off his hips and covered the rest. Lucky for her.

Pehton’s eyes darted away. She cleared her throat before speaking, “Are you listening to music on contraband?”

Korac chuckled as he unstrapped the weights and headed for the shower panel. He turned and raised an eyebrow at her.

Pehton gave him her back with a huff.

He slipped out of the pants and rinsed away the sweat. “Listening to Earth music. Guy named Marilyn Manson. Personal Jesus. The song reminds me of Rayne.” The water stopped, and he patted down with an Egyptian cotton towel.

“Why’s that?” Pehton, ever the professional, kept her back to him.

“No particular reason. You can look now.” He dressed in purple jeans faded to the color of Sagan’s eyes. A thin white tee stretched over his shoulders.

The Lyrik faced him again with less humor than he expected. Honestly, her red eyes, like garnets, looked heavy. Tired. Her lips, normally a black like Earth’s calla lilies, paled to gray.

Dammit. Korac liked her. Was he becoming a people person? He scowled and tossed the ear inserts on the bed. The Icarus glared at them with his hands on his hips, contemplative. How could this happen?

“You ready?” Pehton obviously thought better than to ask about his sudden foul mood.

He raked a hand through his growing hair and grunted his assent.

“Good. Cause we’re here.” Sagan stepped through with Kyle, who instantly glared at Korac.

The last time they saw one another, Korac shot Kyle twice with nacre tranquilizers. The Icarus stifled the urge to bait the Progeny and stuck out his hand. Roughly, he offered, “Thank you for your help.”

Kyle sighed in exhaustion and gripped the offered hand firmly. They stopped after one shake. Sagan’s eyes widened a little. Discretely, Korac winked at her. Diplomacy was an important trait of a planetary General.

“Pehton, it’s nice to see you.” Story Taker nodded to the Lyriki Warden.

“I wasn’t expecting this for our next encounter, Progeny.” She opened the barrier and stepped into the cell. “But as Korac said, I’m glad that you’re here. In exchange, I can return the favor on Earth sometime.”

Hands on hips, Kyle blew out an exasperated breath. “Yea. Well. I might take you up on that. At the rate shit’s going down, I’d say for you to expect my call tomorrow.”

Korac’s brows shot up, and he glanced at Sagan in concern. “Is it that bad?” Was she sparing him?

The Seamswalker walked right up to him and searched his gaze. Sure. Confident. “The second I think we need you, I’ll be here.” Her cheeks flushed cutely. “Want you, well…” Climbing onto her tiptoes, she still didn’t reach his lips without his help.

Kyle gagged behind her. Pehton folded her arms and rolled her eyes.

“After,” Korac whispered, noting the sparkle in her eyes. Sadness flashed before she looked away, hiding it from him. Ahh… She went through Razor’s second experience. They’d talk after.

Pehton sat on the cot. Kyle directed for Korac to follow. Then he announced in a way that stripped away all confidence from his audience, “I’ve never triangulated the same day for two people before now. So, this might suck. Ready?”

Stolen novel; please report.

Korac rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re prepared for life as a turnip, Pehton—”

Kyle touched them both, and the cell disappeared into a black space. In the fog, the Progeny stood between the Lyrik and the Icarus.

“This is a change from the intention-reader, Story Taker.” Korac indicated the flashing screens of memories down either side of a long corridor. His on the left. Hers on the Right.

Kyle ignored him and directed, “Take us there.”

Pehton accessed her memory so often that Inanis was the first screen on her side. She stared into it. Lost.

Korac frowned and searched his side. Fog shrouded several of his memories into complete darkness.

The Progeny hissed. “I’ve seen that in only two other heads.” Eyes wide with concern, he confessed, “Korac, I think someone tampered with your memory.”

The Icarus shook his head, solemnly. He laughed with a bitter edge. “No. No, that—” Korac pointed to the darkened scene. “—I created for myself. Some memories require burying, Story Taker.”

Every time the General called Kyle by that name, the Progeny’s left eye twitched. So Korac continued to do so.

“They’re gone.”

They both turned to find Pehton staring in horror at her memory. She looked back at them. “They’re gone! The children are gone! I can’t see them. Where did they go?!”

Kyle ran to her and took her hand. They disappeared from the corridor. Korac searched for them. Confused at first. But slowly, he scanned the image Pehton was shouting at. They were inside.

Mercy Row. Right in front of the prison, not even a quarter mile from Korac’s location on the same day. Pehton reached out both hands and crossed the street like she held something. Or someone. Invisible. Gone. Right there. A man in a white suit and hat crossed toward the prison and stepped around one of the invisible children. The Lyrik instructed the child to pardon itself. An audio gap cut from the memory. An entire second of silence removed to hide the child’s voice.

Well, that was disturbing.

Korac trekked down the hall until he found his own memory. Tiny, he walked in a line to the prison yard. Two kids behind him and two kids in front. Men flanked them. Wait…

The General narrowed his gaze as he scrutinized the image. One man wore the same clothes as the one from Pehton’s memory. Korac kept his head down so he only recognized the pants. But the suit was white with black stitching. An unusual color in a dirty city.

“We can’t find them,” Kyle called out to Korac down the hall. The young man assured Pehton, “We’re working on decrypting nacre memories. Once we’ve made some progress…”

Salt. Korac sniffed Pehton’s tears. He no longer doubted what he suspected was true. But later. Wait and confirm when they were alone.

He looked back at his own memory. This part he didn’t understand. The Icarus hardly remembered. A small hand squeezed his own. Warm. Affectionate. Never. Not in that hellhole.

The white light came. Afterward, Korac lay in the snow. The sun glared at him until a man stepped between him and the star. Silhouetted. Unrecognizable. Aside from those pants.

In a deep voice the General hated so much and never heard again, the man promised, “Now they will never find you.”

“Whoa.”

The Icarus startled at Kyle’s intrusion.

Mercifully, the Progeny let it go. Maybe Kyle wasn’t so bad after all. “You sure you don’t recognize that guy?”

Korac shook his head. “I saw him in Pehton’s memory. But not his face.”

Pehton seethed. Her gliders flared. “But at least now we have a connection. And we can use it in the Divine Booths.”

“You said you can see the kids in Razor’s capsule?” Both Kyle and Korac turned to her.

She swallowed once before answering in a voice thick with emotion, “Yes.”

Kyle released them back into the glare of Korac’s cell. Sagan, worried, was a sight for sore eyes. He opened his arms to her, and she reached for him instantly. Even climbed into his lap where he cradled her.

“We’ll start meeting once a week. Do some memory therapy. Retrieve all your memories of the children and see if they were all tampered with.” Kyle paced the room as he prescribed a treatment. “If everything is compromised, then Razor possibly contaminated what they look like. So you wouldn’t recognize them. He wants you to think they look like the kids in the capsule. Or…” He frowned so hard his lip curled.

“Or what?” Sagan growled in frustration.

“Sorry. Or it’s possible the contamination took place after you copied your memory to him. You know… so he’d be the only source for your retrieval.” Kyle’s voice hardened with disgust the more he divulged.

Korac looked forward to his next encounter with the Pain Curator. Many, many impulsive aggravations came to mind.

“Thanks for your help,” Pehton reaffirmed. But this time she looked hollowed out, like someone scooped all the hope from the Lyrik.

Shit, was Korac about to comfort her—

“We’ll do everything we can, Pehton.” Sagan. Of course, his beautiful, sweet, compassionate girl. Gingerly, she left Korac’s embrace and touched the other woman’s shoulder.

The Executive Warden blinked at the blond girl. A strange emotion passed through her red eyes. Guilt. After another second, she cleared her throat, “Why don’t you two get some time together?”

They exchanged a surprised look. Korac smirked as a blush crept onto Sagan’s freckled cheeks. Permission to indulge in watermelon. Nice.

Kyle gave a big, “Ahem.”

After he left, of course. Korac saluted to Pehton as she headed for the lift. “Thanks, Executive Warden.”

She nodded to him before disappearing. The loss in her eyes would haunt his dreams. By the time he turned around, Sagan disappeared Kyle back to Earth.

“That was fast.” He grinned at her until he caught the weariness in her posture and the sadness in her eyes. Gently, he pressed, “Tell me.”

“Razor agreed to let you in.”

Korac recoiled. Surprising turn of events, but he worried… “What did he take from you in exchange?”

Sagan held her chin high, even with the growing shimmer in her eyes. “I went through with the second experience.” A tremor arrested the woman he loved and stole away all that courage.

He held out his arms to her, and Sagan gripped him tightly. She never sobbed. Only little shakes to let him know how much her heart broke.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying. I can’t even remember—I feel like I’m cheating on you or something.”

Korac placed his hands on either side of her face. She kept her eyes down. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Sagan, look at me. You’re not betraying us by doing this. I know some part of you must feel that way. But I trust you.”

She finally looked up at him. And the fear in her eyes tightened his chest.

He kissed her lips and continued, “The moment you felt uncomfortable or strained, you came to me. That’s trust. That’s us. I won’t punish you for that or the course of your mission. Do you trust me with Pehton?”

Gravely, she nodded. Sagan’s eyes danced with the confidence of it. “Completely.”

“To me, it’s the same.” Korac kissed the top of her head. “No matter what happens, I will not let you go.”

“I promise to never go where you can’t find me.”