Page 1 of Last of Her Name

The black ship breaks atmo like a falling star, burning up the sky.

Pressing a scanner to my eyes, I squint and adjust the settings until the ship sharpens into focus. It’s a big one, sleek and fast. Fire licks its hull as it descends, and then it passes across the great violet sun, turning to a silhouette.

Balanced precariously in the crooking branches of a slinke tree, its noodle-like leaves tickling the back of my neck, I have a grand view of the landscape below. My father’s vineyards stripe the land from east to west, a thick tangle of leaves and sweet grapes. Houses and winery facilities cluster at the north end of the property. Made of honey-colored wood and glass, the buildings sparkle in the late afternoon sun, the windows cast in hues of soft purple.

Glancing away from the scanner, I see the vineyard workers moving to and from the warehouses, rolling barrels onto hovering dories, taking tallies of the stock. Harnessed to the dories, red-furred pack animals called mantibu bray at one another, tossing their antlers at the flies that are the bane of the wet season.

As I’d expected, the black ship angles for the east, where the city of Estonrya waits over the horizon. It’s the usual flight pattern of the interstellar vessels that come and go.

But this is no ordinary ship.

Leaning outward for a better view, I put too much weight on the branch, and it cracks.

With a shout, I tumble down, landing hard on my back and feeling the wind rush from my lungs. Bits of twig and leaves rain around me. I blink at the sky, momentarily stunned.

“Stacia! Oh my stars! Are you okay?”

Clio’s face appears above mine, big blue eyes wide with concern.

“Fine,” I groan, pushing myself up. I’ve sunk into the spongy lavender moss that carpets the ground. “Astronika.”

“What?”

“The ship.” With a wince, I pick up the scanner, which shattered when it hit the ground. “It’s an astronika. Class nine.”

I could add that it’s powered by a Takhimir reactor and insulated with a premium magnetic RAM layer. But Clio wouldn’t care. She tends to nod off when I drone on about ship specs. Everyone does.

“An astronika?” Clio shakes her head. “What could a ship like that be doing way out here? I mean, I love our planet, but Amethyne’s not exactly the hub of the galaxy. Or the hub ofanywhere, for that matter.”

I shrug and click open the bulky metal cuff on my wrist. What looks like a large silver bracelet is actually the universe’s greatest invention—or at least a mechanic’s best friend—and I’d rather run around stark naked than go without my multicuff for a day. Pushing my fingernail into little grooves along it causes several miniature tools to release—a screwdriver, flashlight, and pincers. Bending over the scanner, I start piecing the parts together. “I’ll bet it’s military.”

“Which makes it even weirder.” Clio presses her lips together, eyeing the trail of smoke the ship left behind. Then she asks softly, “Is it the draft, you think?”

I shake my head, but my chest tightens involuntarily as I turn a screw on the scanner’s back panel. “It’s too early in the year. We have five months at least. They always come in the dry season.”

But when our eyes meet, I can see my friend isn’t convinced.

Not that Clio need necessarily worry. She’s not the soldier type, with her delicate frame and dreamy eyes. Me, on the other hand … Well, with my muscular build and mechanic’s certification, I’m just the type that the drafting committees love to haul off to boot camp on distant Alexandrine. I’ve always dreamed of exploring the other systems that glitter in the night sky, but not as some grunt on a military vessel, confined to strict schedules and rules. No, thank you.

“It’s probably just some rich Alexandrian tourist with nothing better to do than slum around the outer systems.”

“Yeah.” Clio gives a wistful sigh. “Maybe ahandsome, rich Alexandrian tourist, with a troubled past and a broody air and a heart yearning for love.”

With a groan, I haul myself to my feet. “You can have his heart. I’ll take his ship.”

She points at the scanner in my hand. “That was fast.”

The scanner is whole again, its circuits operating normally despite the tumble. I snap the multicuff back on my wrist. “Good thing too, or my dad would’ve skinned me.”

My eyes fix on something over her shoulder, and my brow furrows.

“I told you to stop frowning like that,” says Clio. “I swear, Stace, you’ll be nothing but wrinkles by the time you’re thirty.”

“The ship,” I murmur. “It’s not heading to Estonrya.”

“Of course it is. All the ships go to Estonrya.”

“Clio,look. It’s coming here. To Afka.”