Meridian Divide Read online

  “Found it!” she said.

  “What’s the code?” Victor said.

  The tapping was still echoing from inside the wall. Two slow taps, three quick.

  Saskia pressed the two, then the three. Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing.

  “Dammit,” Dorian muttered.

  The tapping stopped. The silence buzzed in Victor’s ears.

  Then it picked up again. The same tempo, all quick: one-two-three-four-five. A pause. One-two-three-four-five.

  Saskia’s face lit up. “Got it,” she whispered, pressing the five key.

  Immediately, the keypad vanished and a doorway slid open, revealing a narrow room and, at its center, Evie, already leaping to her feet and rushing toward them.

  “I can’t believe that worked!” she cried. “They had me playing these dumb puzzles, and the answers were always two, three, five.” She laughed and threw her arm around Saskia in a quick friendly squeeze.

  “Congratulations.” Orvo’s deep, sonorous voice echoed through the room. “You have successfully completed the exercise. Completion time nine point seven hours. Please report to Commander Pereira immediately for debriefing.”

  All four of them groaned. “We don’t even get to clean up?” Dorian yelled.

  “No,” Orvo said, almost cheerfully. “She wants to speak with you while the exercise is still fresh in your minds.”

  “Never ends around here,” Dorian said, but he headed toward the stairs, just like the rest of them.

  Evie lay down on her bunk with her comm pad. She had a couple of messages waiting—one from her dad, through the civilian channel, and another from her mom, through one of the UNSC channels. It was still strange getting messages from her mom like that, as if they were both part of the military now.

  You are, she thought. Technically. Which was an even stranger thought.

  Evie opened her father’s message first. The holographic image of him waved at her, grinning. “Hate that I can only leave a recording,” he said, and Evie smiled a little at that. It was true too that it stung, knowing that she hadn’t been able to speak to both of her parents directly in nine weeks, ever since they arrived at the base. Not that she’d have been able to, even if instant communication across the galaxy were possible. Her training just kept her so busy.

  Her father went on, telling her about settling in at the new colony the Brume-sur-Mer survivors had been sent to after Evie, Dorian, Saskia, and Victor, along with a Spartan super-soldier named Owen, had flown them off Meridian. It was on the other side of the Outer Colonies, a few weeks away. Too far for her to visit. She had only seen his new apartment—he kept calling it their new apartment, but she couldn’t think of it that way at all—through his messages. UNSC had provided the apartment and all its furnishings, a thank-you for the work Evie and the others had done. He was going to be teaching at the colony’s local university once the next semester started up. Sometimes, Evie wished she were with him, getting ready to start her own classes at the colony school. But she also knew if she hadn’t teamed up with the others when the Covenant invaded, there was a good chance no one would have made it to the colony. And that was why she was still here, dodging practice gunfire and letting herself get locked up in a tiny metal room.

  Because the Covenant were still on Meridian, still searching for Forerunner artifacts. And when they got what they came for, they would glass the entire world.

  She couldn’t let that happen. None of them could.

  Her father finished off his message with an I love you and an I’m proud of you ; then it flickered away, replaced by the face of her mother, hair pulled back regulation-style, the collar of her UNSC uniform just peeking into the frame. Her expression was serious, her eyes worried.

  “I got your last message.” She leaned closer, her holographic face looming in the space above Evie’s bed. “It really sounds like they’re pushing you through that training fast, huh?”

  Evie’s chest knotted up. They are? She had only told her mother the barest details in the last message, assuming that if she went into too much detail they’d be censored anyway, since her mother likely didn’t have the clearance to hear about Evie’s assignments.

  “I know they’ve sweetened the deal for you,” her mother went on, “all those scholarships and such. But just—be careful. Okay? I don’t want to lose you before they have a chance to pay out.”

  Evie smiled a little at her mother’s worries, but her expression told Evie she wasn’t joking. Evie watched the rest of the message with a dull ache in her chest, and when it was over, she left the hologram running, empty light swelling in the air above her bed. Their training was scheduled for ten weeks, the same as UNSC basic, but there was just so much to learn, it almost did feel like they were rushing. Dorian had even commented on it a few days ago, before they were informed they’d be playing Capture the Flag.

  “You think everyone in UNSC had to learn as much as us?” he’d asked. They’d been eating in the mess hall, the two of them separated from the UNSC soldiers who were at the base to help establish a foothold against the Covenant occupation of Meridian. It was loud and bright and noisy, and Evie had felt small and unwelcome, especially without Victor and Saskia, who had been helping Commander Pereira at the time. None of them ever interacted with the base’s usual population, recruits brought in from the ranks to monitor the fighting on Meridian.

  Technically all four of them were doing the same thing, but their situation had always been different. They had been high school students who became soldiers when the Covenant invaded Brume-sur-Mer and started drilling in the center of the town, chasing after an ancient Forerunner artifact. Even with her head full of protocols and regulations and prioritized directives, Evie still didn’t feel like a soldier most of the time.

  Back at the mess hall, she had shrugged off Dorian’s question, even if she did agree with him, to an extent. But she also thought that perhaps it only felt abnormal because nothing about their experiences since the invasion had been normal. Dorian had always been eager to question authority anyway. Maybe too eager.

  Or maybe not. Evie stared at the hologram of her mother’s serious expression, the worried lines etching out from the corners of her eyes.

  Two hours later, Evie headed down to the Tuomi Base command center for weekly cleaning duty. No breaks during ONI training: Two measly hours were all she and the others got between the Capture the Flag debrief and the tedium of running a disinfectant stick over the base’s old-fashioned consoles.

  The lights in the building were already on when Evie arrived, each window lit up bright yellow against the falling purple twilight. Cleaning duty had been the first assignment Orvo gave Evie and Dorian when they arrived at the base. Their very first day, Commander Pereira herself had marched the four of them down to the blocky cement building set away from the base proper and handed them their cleaning supplies. Now, two months later, Evie felt like she knew the routine at the command center better than anything else she’d learned during their training.

  Lights on meant one of the others had beat her to the command center, and sure enough, Dorian was already there, music pumping faintly out of the comm stations.

  “Orvo’s going to report you for that,” Evie said from the doorway.

  Dorian glanced up. The glow from the disinfectant stick stained his hands a brilliant blue.

  “Pereira doesn’t care,” he said. “It’s not like we can access anything important on these computers anyway.”

  Evie smiled and walked over to the rack of cleaning supplies. She’d been the one to show Dorian how to use the comm stations to patch into the music channel from the barracks; the Tuomi command center was so old it had taken her all of five minutes to do. Granted, while she’d been in the system, she’d seen that someone had gone in and patched in software updates to keep her or anyone else from retrieving data from the satellites monitoring the situation on Meridian, but Orvo had still sent a message through to inform her she was breaki
ng rank.

  That had been her first experience with the strict command structure on Tuomi Base. She still hadn’t gotten entirely used to it.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked Dorian. “The usual?”

  He made a grunt of affirmation, and she pulled out the sterilization mop and switched it on. She pressed it against the floor, the pressure from the cleaning light keeping it buoyed a few centimeters above the drab beige tiles. She swept it back and forth, listening to Dorian hum along to the jangly song coming out of the system.

  “I’m surprised you know this one,” she said.

  Dorian gave a sad little laugh. “Remy was always listening to this singer,” he said.

  A pang of sadness stung at Evie’s chest. Remy was Dorian’s nephew. Another Brume-sur-Mer survivor who’d been swept off to the colony, along with Dorian’s uncle Max. He’d told Evie a little about them, and Evie knew that he sent Remy a message every day, even if it was just a few minutes long.

  “I feel like your nephew would have cooler taste in music than that.”

  Dorian laughed, more robustly this time. “I was always trying to educate him,” he said. “I played him stuff like Weeping Carnage and Corroded Winter, but he just wasn’t having it.”

  Evie grinned. “I can only imagine.”

  They fell back into working, not speaking, the music floating hazily around them. The command center was small and cramped and seemed to gather dust instantly, despite the officers who worked here during the day, drawing up plans for the defense of Meridian. Evie had gleaned from listening in on conversations at mealtimes that before the invasion Tuomi Base had been all but decommissioned. It had always existed for the purpose of monitoring Meridian, but in its early days, UNSC had used it to keep an eye on the insurrectionists who once sought to rise up against the local military presence and rend the colony from its ties to Earth. The base had lain abandoned for years, a barely habitable chunk of rock save for a slim belt around the equator. And that was where the base had been built.

  Suddenly, the music cut out, the singers’ shrill voices distorting as the sound careened away. Evie sighed. “Told you,” she said. “Orvo doesn’t want us messing in the comm station—”

  The entrance to the command center slid open and a warrant officer stepped in, uniform crisp, insignia gleaming. For a moment, Evie forgot what to do, and she let the mop fall out of her hands. It cracked against the floor as she squeezed herself together for a salute. Beside her, Dorian was doing the same thing.

  “At ease,” he said after an awkward pause. Evie slumped, hand dropping to her side. All these protocols still didn’t come naturally to her.

  “You’re both to report to room 34B immediately,” the warrant officer said. “Captain Dellatorre needs to speak with you.”

  At the mention of Captain Dellatorre’s name, Evie felt a grip of some emotion that might have been excitement and might have been panic. When Evie had first met Captain Dellatorre on board the Sparrow, she had introduced herself as Daniella, right before making the offer that would bring Evie and Dorian and the rest of their friends to Tuomi Base. It was here that Evie learned Daniella’s rank in the Office of Naval Intelligence. Namely, that it was high.

  If Captain Dellatorre wanted to speak with them, it only meant one thing: They were going back to Meridian.

  The meeting room was located in the center of Tuomi Base, and as Evie sat in the plush seat, her fingers drumming nervously against the table, she was aware of the reality of the base spiraling out around her: the reinforced buildings, the monitoring equipment, the weapons, the weak atmosphere, and then the blackness of space. All those layers between her and the Covenant.

  Victor was already in the meeting room, his back straight, his hands folded in front of him. He always looked like he was playing soldier these days. More than any of them, he had taken to the training at the base. Finally following in his sisters’ footsteps, Evie supposed.

  “Looks like they’re sending us back,” Evie said, her voice sharp in the room’s silence.

  Victor grinned, the military facade evaporating. “I hope so. I’m ready to get down there and kick some Covenant ass.”

  Dorian rolled his eyes.

  “This is happening sooner than I thought,” he said after a pause.

  “We don’t know exactly what’s happening,” Victor said. “We’re just hoping.” He grinned again, but Dorian’s expression was full of foreboding.

  The door opened. Evie tensed, but it was Saskia who dashed in next and took the seat across from Evie. Her skin was flushed, her hair damp with sweat; she must have been working out. Saskia tended to do that on days when Evie had messages waiting, like she could sweat away the pain of not being able to reach her own parents.

  Too many times Evie had woken up to the soft glow of a comm pad, Saskia whispering into the recorder: “I don’t know if you’ll get this, but I just want you to know I’m okay. I’m trying.” Always, Evie pretended to still be asleep as Saskia sent the message out into the colony communications systems. She never got anything in return.

  At least Evie’s dad would always ask about Saskia. That was something. But Evie knew it wasn’t what her friend was looking for either.

  “You really think they’re going to send us back?” Saskia said. “Already?”

  Dorian shrugged. “They’ve been rushing us through everything fast enough.”

  “We’ve been here almost ten weeks,” Victor shot back. “That’s a typical time for training. And besides, we already fought the Covenant.”

  The door whisked open and a pair of uniformed officers marched into the office. Victor immediately snapped to attention, and the others followed behind him.

  “At ease,” said Daniella—Captain Dellatorre—as she strolled in behind the officers in her slim-fitting UNSC uniform. She slid into the seat at the head of the table, tapped her comm pad, switched on the holo. Only after all this did she look up and make eye contact, glancing at each of the four in turn. When her eyes caught Evie’s, Evie immediately straightened her spine.

  Captain Dellatorre smiled.

  “You all have done very well,” she said, a gush in her voice like a teacher. It didn’t suit her severe appearance, and Evie felt a shudder of dissonance that was quickly swept up by a rush of pride. Whatever doubts she had vanished. Maybe she was suited to military life after all. Just like her mother.

  “Orvo has been giving me regular reports,” Captain Dellatorre continued. “I’m extremely impressed by your teamwork, your problem-solving ability. Your fearlessness.” She glanced up at Victor when she said this. “Although charging across a field armed with explosives was perhaps not the wisest course of action.”

  Victor sat up in his seat. “I didn’t see any other option at the time, ma’am.”

  Captain Dellatorre smiled. “Fair enough. I can’t question your commitment to the mission, at any rate.” She leaned back in her chair, her expression serious once again. Evie clasped her hands beneath the table. Her palms were damp and hot with sweat.

  “We’ve been monitoring the situation in Brume-sur-Mer,” Captain Dellatorre said. “The Covenant are still searching, but they have to be getting close to whatever it is they’re after. There isn’t much space for them to cover in that area, and they’ve made no indication that they will be moving out of the vicinity of the town.” She paused. “While the UNSC and Meridian’s air and naval forces have been holding off the worst of the Covenant attacks, we can’t guarantee the same opening to deploy will exist next week, or even tomorrow. We can’t delay deployment any longer.”

  Evie knew it was coming, but hearing it out loud made her heart thrum. Three months ago, she had fought to get off Meridian. Now she was going back.

  It felt like madness. But at least it wasn’t a madness she would be facing alone.

  “You really think we’re ready?” Dorian said.

  Captain Dellatorre looked at him. “I see not all of your training has stuck.”
/>   “You said it yourself,” Dorian shot back. “We aren’t training to be soldiers. We’re going down to serve as part of a militia. So I’m not going to worry about protocol. Do you really think we’re ready?”

  “Come on, man,” Victor muttered. “Of course we’re ready.”

  Dorian ignored him, though. Evie knew he wanted to hear Captain Dellatorre say it. He wanted to see if she was lying.

  “You’ve trained for almost three months,” she said. “That’s nearly equivalent to basic training, though your training was a bit more specialized than a normal boot camp. And as Mr. Gallardo has pointed out, you weren’t exactly inexperienced when you came to the base.”

  Dorian stared at her, expressionless.

  “You will be serving as part of a special task force to monitor the Covenant’s interest in the Forerunner artifact underneath Brume-sur-Mer,” Captain Dellatorre said. “All four of you have proven yourselves more than sufficient for the task. However”—and here she narrowed her eyes in Dorian’s direction—“there might be some issues with your ability to follow orders.”

  Dorian said nothing. Evie knew he wasn’t going to break first.

  And the captain wasn’t going to make him. She leaned back in the chair, her countenance smoothing over. “Luckily you’ll be facing less rigidity with the Meridian militia. We don’t necessarily want UNSC soldiers for this—it’s better to have a team that knows the terrain.” She smiled. “And that makes you all perfect for the task.”

  Dorian nodded once, accepting the answer. But Evie felt a flutter of fear in her stomach—was that a way of saying they weren’t really ready, despite their training? But maybe it didn’t matter. They weren’t ready when the Covenant invaded twelve weeks ago, and here they were, sitting around a meeting table on Tuomi Base.

  “You ship out tomorrow morning,” Captain Dellatorre said, rising from her seat. “Good luck. Dismissed.”