Homefront by Scott James Magner

Author:Scott James Magner [Magner, Scott James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781630230258
Publisher: ARUS Entertainment; Legacy edition
Published: 2018-11-25T00:00:00+00:00

Mira

MIRA HUMMED TO HERSELF, KEEPING THE IMAGE OF her mother wearing her favorite apron in the kitchen at the front of her mind. Whatever alien root vegetable Happy had given her was surprisingly fragrant, and as she peeled the last one she could almost hear her mother’s pleasant drawl.

You have to be happy when you cook, Mirabelle. What you’re doing keeps people alive, and people can’t live on sadness. Put a little heart into everything you do, and there ain’t nothing or no one can give you troubles unless you ask for it.

Annamarie Weston-Harlan was forty-three years old when she died, the mother of four sons and one precocious teenage daughter. The loss of her eldest son Brian put lines on her face that betrayed just how sick she was, but Mira remembered her mother best like this. Happy, alive, and full of down-home joy.

She worked the knife across the whatever it was by the light of a bed of coals, scraping off the skin with quick, sure motions. Seconds later it was cubed and into the pot, joining the others alongside some crushed lemongrass, salt, and a can of evaporated milk drawn from the shuttle’s stores. The smell of the improvised sauce was heaven, and she turned her attention to the birds.

The Gamma memories were devoid of tasks like this, and she enjoyed the feeling of being her own woman again. To do something with her hands, with no other lives offering suggestions as to how to do it better, made her feel—for lack of a better word—human. Happy sat nearby, watching her cook in an eerie echo of Mira’s own kitchen education. The Omega was basking in the happy glow she projected, drinking in the rich emotions that thoughts of her mother always summoned up. It was another area untouched by the Gamma memories, and Mira was determined to keep it that way.

Taking up one of the birds, Mira was keenly aware of Serene’s attention, as well as Katra lurking in the trees. The Alpha child was sitting up on her own now, staring at her from across the clearing. She was wearing Marcus Callaway’s uniform blouse as a belted dress, and in addition to foodstuffs, Mira was glad she’d had the foresight to take as many of the absent pilot’s clothes as she could fit into a duty bag.

The sleeves were far too long for Serene’s small arms, so Mira had done a quick bit of combat tailoring and cut them off at the elbow while Happy was collecting cooking supplies. Other than her first words to Jantine, Serene had yet to speak aloud, but Mira could feel her mind working behind those large, expressive eyes.

Mira had to admit to curiosity about what the Alpha was thinking, but the one time she’d attempted contact she slammed up against a mental barrier much stronger than the one Jantine maintained. The resulting headache was almost as bad as her first minutes as an empath, and Mira resolved to wait until Serene was ready to talk.

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