The Best of World SF by Lavie Tidhar (children's ebooks free online .txt) 📕

of explosions and energy blasts. The drone’s filaments detached from the dead crew members outside, who had been poisoned along with the first mate, and returned to the Kinnec hub in her arm. Sister activated the emergency lighting, and she followed the ship’s schematics to the cargo hold.

No one had been loaded into the berths yet. The crew would have been waiting to put them all under at the same time. Two separate groups had been divided into two large bays, each protected by an energy field. One group was mag-cuffed to the bulkheads, but some in the second group had gotten free and were trying to help others out of their restraints. They all stared as she appeared. Then prisoners in the second group were shoved aside, one after the other, as someone pushed to the front.

Sister. Release restraints. Open bays.

She retracted her hood and stepped into the bay. She pulled him into her arms and closed her eyes as she inhaled sweat and blood and smoke and him. He took her face between his palms as she signed, her thoughts too emotional and disordered for the translator.

‘Did they hurt you?’

He shook his head and she read his lips. ‘I’m good. Are you?’

She nodded. ‘Never better.’

He smiled and leaned his forehead against hers. She stayed that way for a moment before leaning back to sign. ‘You’ve been busy.’

He winced as she took his left wrist between her fingers. He had dug his implant from it and used the overload feature to disable his mag-cuffs, shorting out his tracker. A dirty rag covered the bloody wound above a glittering three-dimensional geometric tattoo. His fingernails were torn and bleeding. She shook her head as she touched a hand to his bruised eye and bloodied lip. Her suit chided, ^There was no need for this.^

‘The accommodations were less than satisfactory. I thought relocation was in order.’

She couldn’t hold back her smile. ‘What a coincidence. That’s why I’m here.’

By the time they left the ship, Sister had completely withdrawn from it, leaving only a darkened husk of machinery behind, devoid of intellect and power. The first fragments of the orbiting cruiser were burning up as they entered the atmosphere above them. Surprise and shock rippled through the escaped captives as they saw the dead slavers outside the ship. Those that were uninjured rushed forward to meet the survivors in the town. Several of them embraced, faces contorting as tears flowed.

‘Maybe we should fly our people home,’ her husband signed as they stood at the bottom of the ramp, arms around each other’s waists. He was limping but trying to hide it.

^I destroyed the captain. Ship’s not going anywhere. They’ll have to go to the nearest transport hub and find their own way.^

He studied her face. ‘Not just the captain, I take it?’

She shot him a defensive look. ^I did what you would have wanted. I asked nicely. They wouldn’t give you back.^

A finger tilted her chin upward and his dark eyes met hers. ‘Sure you’re okay? You must have been worried…’

She grasped his fingers, stilled their movement. ‘It wasn’t them. That’s all that matters.’

‘You were retired.’

‘So were you. I’ll live.’

They walked toward the mountain, watching Sister descend from orbit, her mission completed. He stopped and faced her.

‘I’m not getting in without you.’

‘You’re injured.’ The drone floated up from the hub on her arm. ‘She’ll take care of you on the way back. There’s stew. Make sure to get some sleep.’

‘It’s too far to walk. Come with me.’

She put her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed. ^Don’t make me sedate you.^

He pursed his lips and argued some more, but in the end, she let him hold her then handed him over to Sister, who left a drone behind to see her home.

After Sister left and most of the crowd was gone, she leaned against the hull of the slaver and cried until her legs slipped out from under her and she sat on the ground, shoulders shaking. Her hands clenched and unclenched, her heart raced, and her skin prickled as she came down from the battle high.

It wasn’t Valencia. Only slavers. They didn’t take him.

She sat just breathing for a while as the adrenaline flowed out of her, the tears dried, and her body stopped shaking. The drone settled over her arm, its grip comforting as she stood up and turned for the road.

It was a long way home and she took her time. It was late afternoon when she returned to the forest and the path beside their house.

He was leaning against the doorway, legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his bare chest. A strip of synthskin circled his wrist and his bruises were purpling. She paused at the top of the steps and just took him in.

‘Home again, wife?’ he signed.

She smiled. ‘Home again, husband. Tired of me yet?’

‘Not yet.’ His split lip stretched into a slight smile. ‘Not ever.’

They linked arms and went inside.

*

Once, a man left his home to find his home.

It was not an easy journey, but going home never is.

He gave up all that he was, and all he knew, to experience a great many things. Genuine smiles and thoughtless malice. Shared purpose and individual failure.

And one bright day, in the middle of a river, he found peace. The first true peace in his long life. He learned that a home could be shared, and that in finding his home, he’d become another’s. That was more than enough to bury the fears and chase away the memories. More than enough to keep the world and its cares far, far away.

Until the day he came home, and the world was sitting at their table, brushing invisible dust from white diaphanous trousers with immaculately trimmed and painted fingers. The Knight rose from the wooden chair it had been seated on, the smooth white surface of its full mask catching the evening light. A pinhole speaker made a glowing blue circle in the centre of the lower