Defy the Worlds (Defy the Stars #2)(94)

Over the comms comes the voice of Dagmar Krall. “Prepare for Gate transit on our mark.” The specific split-second window for the Persephone appears in green lettering on the vast domed viewscreen; in deference to Noemi’s status as a soldier of Genesis, they’ve been given one of the first berths. Abel inputs it into navigation himself.

“Here we go,” he says, hands on the controls. “Ready?”

Ephraim nods. Virginia gives him a thumbs-up. But they all look to Noemi for the final word. She lifts her chin and says, “Ready.”

The Katara’s signal comes through. Abel pushes the Persephone forward. The shimmering pool at the center of the Gate reflects his ship’s teardrop shape as they move closer and closer, until light shatters. Lines disintegrate. Reality itself fractures around them, then suddenly snaps back into place. Other Vagabond ships appear nearby, a few of them streaking on ahead. In the far distance shines the small dot that represents their destination; Abel zooms in to reveal a soft green planet wrapped in wispy white clouds.

“Genesis,” Ephraim whispers. “I never thought I’d see this.”

Nor did Abel. He realizes that Noemi is the first person to have set foot on every single inhabited world in the galaxy: Genesis, Kismet, Cray, Stronghold, Earth, and Haven. Within a few hours, he’ll become the second. The Loop will be closed; they will have come full circle at last.

When he looks over at Noemi, her expression is grave. “I had to make that transmission, but—we’ve shown our hand. Earth has to act now. Sooner or later, they’re going to strike.”

“They were going to strike anyway,” he says.

“But sooner now.” Noemi closes her eyes as if in prayer.





31



HOME.

Genesis grows larger on the viewscreen, like a flower blooming. The vast green continents take shape—the Eastern Peninsula, the Far Southern Islands, all the places she learned as a little child in school. It seems to shimmer before her eyes, but maybe that’s only because she’s blinking back tears. I never thought I’d see my home again.

All the unhappiness she’s faced here can never change her love for her world.

“We have Genesis ships incoming,” Zayan announces. Then he frowns. “Only about ten or eleven, though.”

That’s probably as much of a patrol as they can muster in their weakened state. Noemi aches for her broken planet’s lost pride as she goes to comms. “Genesis patrol! This is Noemi Vidal, seeking landing clearance.”

Of all people, it’s Deirdre O’Farrell who says, in amazement, “Vidal?”

“Yeah, glad to see you, too.” The patrol breaks off—probably more in confusion than through any trust in her—or maybe because of the sheer scale of the enormous fleet beginning to appear. She memorized the codes for Darius Akide’s offices at the Hall of Elders months ago, so it’s easy to input them now. But the last time she saw Akide, he was in a hospital bed. Could he be comatose now? Even dead? “Noemi Vidal for Darius Akide. Urgent. Top priority.”

Within less than a minute, Akide’s voice comes through. “Vidal. Thank God. We thought they might’ve killed you. It took them this long to accept our surrender?”

“Oh.” She’d almost forgotten that was her original mission. “Okay, here’s what happened. I actually never got a chance to surrender, but I’m coming back with antiviral drugs, tons of doctors, and an entire war fleet to defend Genesis while we rebuild.”

The pause that follows goes on so long she wonders if he’s fainted. Finally Akide says, sounding nothing like an august elder, “Hold on, what?”

As scared and wound up as she is, Noemi can’t resist a smile. “You’re welcome.”



Within the hour, the entire fleet has achieved Genesis orbit, save for a strong patrol that remains on guard near the Gate itself. Noemi brings the Persephone in for landing.

The silvery teardrop of the ship descends through the clouds, emerging above the rounded buildings of marble and stone. Two of the Remedy medical ships follow them in; this planet needs immediate help, but having every ship land at once would only create a panic. The breeze from their wake whips the tall willows by the river until their branches flutter free of the surface of the water. To judge by the rosy paleness of the sky, it’s early morning, but not so early that a few people aren’t walking around. Noemi sees them clutching the hoods of their robes as they look up in both fear and wonder.

As the ships approach the Temple, Noemi feels a quiver inside when she imagines facing the Council again. She’s gone beyond her authority—almost unfathomably far beyond it. But what else could she have done?

Besides, she is kind of saving the world. That’s got to help.

The enormous oaken doors of the Hall of Elders swing open at Noemi’s touch. She strides through without so much as a sideways glance at the people watching her, agog. Beside her march Abel, Ephraim, Virginia, Dagmar Krall, and a half dozen of Remedy’s top medics; behind them walk about ten Genesis guards, although their weapons remain holstered.

Noemi doesn’t slow her steps until they’re almost to the doors of the Council chamber. Two guards there in ceremonial saffron cloaks look from her to each other and back again before they open the doors to let them all in.