Free Heaven's War by David S. Goyer, Michael Cassutt Page B

experience with it. Why not let me see what I can do with it?”
     
    “What do you honestly think you can do?” Nayar said. “This is an alien environment, designed by beings thousands of years more advanced than we are!”
     
    “Designed
for us
,” a voice said to Jaidev’s right. Daksha.
     
    “You said we should make ourselves useful. I think I can be useful.”
     
    Daksha joined them. “Me, too.”
     
    “Into the Temple, then,” Nayar said. “Both of you.”
     
    The director turned away, clearly expecting nothing.
     
    Nevertheless, Jaidev felt better. He had taken one step toward improving everyone’s lot…and redeeming himself.
     
    But first…Daksha. “What do you know about plasm?”
     
    “Beyond the name itself? Nothing.”
     
    Jaidev stared at the man. To think that fifteen minutes earlier, Daksha had struck him. “Will you work for me?”
     
    “You’re the expert.”
     
    “Come on, then.” Jaidev Mahabala didn’t expect to find lithographic molecular knowledge in this group, so one pair of helping hands was as good as the next.
     
    Besides…what better way to plot a bit of revenge than to have his assailant at his mercy?
     

ARRIVAL DAY: HARLEY
     
    The hours after landing and “merger” of the two groups were consumed by greetings, shouts, jostling, complaints, and what Harley soon judged to be unreasonable joy.
    How had their situation changed? There were now two more human refugees, since Zack had no tools and damned little useful information that the Houston and Bangalore groups didn’t already possess.
     
    Brent Bynum said as much to Weldon and Jones. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said as they trudged toward the Temple, Harley wheeling with help from Sasha and feeling every meter in his shoulders. “I’m sick happy that Stewart survived. He’s the only one who knows what happened here.
     
    “But unless he’s got an alien spacecraft gassed up and ready to go, he’s in the same damn fix we are.”
     
    Harley had more important things to consider. He had not intruded on the painful reunion between Rachel and Zack. Given Megan Stewart’s death in an accident that was Harley’s responsibility…throw in this mysterious rebirth…well, there was nothing he could offer. Best to stay away.
     
    Especially when Harley heard Zack tell Rachel that Megan was dead…
again
. The girl had collapsed, understandably. Harley wondered how Zack could be on his feet, much less coherent.
     
    Then he wondered what had gone wrong. He realized he had a growing list of questions.
     
    But now Rachel was on her feet, wiping her eyes, nodding, forcing a smile, in every way proving her strength and resilience.
     
    And Zack was patting Harley on the shoulder. “What are the odds?”
     
    “Of what?”
     
    “You and Rachel winding up here.” He blinked, looking tired but happy. “Everybody else, too.”
     
    There was no possible way Harley could avoid asking the next question, though he did lower his voice: “What happened with Megan?”
     
    Zack stared at the earthen floor of the habitat, unspeaking, his shoulders heaving with barely suppressed sobs, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. “I wish I knew what to tell you. She was…here,” he said. “For two days, Harls, I had her
back
. I heard her. I saw her. I…touched her. It was like…every damn song about loss. That one last look.” He raised his face and smiled bitterly. “You know what? That’s a pretty fucking overrated idea. Take it from one who knows. The second separation is worse than the first.”
     
    Harley considered that thought, and realized he could not address it or even express it. “Did she die somehow, or…”
     
    “A Sentry took her,” he said, a phrase that meant nothing to Harley. Then Zack added, “It was the same kind of beast that killed Pogo.”
     
    Harley raised his head slightly and was startled and horrified to see that behind Zack, dozens of people had gathered. It was not only