The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material)
Copyright © 2021 by Nicole Grotepas
Cover designed by Deranged Doctor Design
Version: 4.25.2021
Other titles by Nicole Grotepas:
* * *
Novels:
Feed 1: The First to Awaken
Feed 2: The Rebels
Feed 3: The Traitors
Feed 4: The Corporation
Blue Hearts of Mars
World in Shadow
Eye of the Colossus
Hands of the Colossus
Heart of the Colossus
Shadow of the Colossus
Birth of the Colossus
Reach of the Colossus
Reign of the Colossus
Gears of Aether: Shiro and the Orrery
Incident in Analogue: Cosma and the Painting
The Shoulders of Giants: Odeon and the Statue
* * *
Novellas:
Angels and Amulets
* * *
Short stories:
“The Coldest Heart”
“The God Machine”
“Cities of the Sun”
“The First Post-Android Buyback Program”
“Cry Olly Oxen Free”
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Contents
Eye of the Colossus
Hands of the Colossus
Heart of the Colossus
Shadow of the Colossus
Birth of the Colossus
Reach of the Colossus
Reign of the Colossus
Across the Aether
Angels and Amulets
Six Shadows
Eye of the Colossus
1
“Three more days, Charly. Can you go that long without another fight?” Holly Drake asked, glancing sidelong at her friend. They entered the mess hall and paused just inside the doors, surveying the room.
The human guard who’d led the group of women out of the prison block flicked her hair as she turned, then looked back at Charly and Holly. “Watch out, Charly. You know the drill. You’ve got a target on your back.”
Before they could say anything, the guard strode out into the corridor. The doors to the chow hall slid shut, leaving the inmates within to their own devices. A muffled hiss from the doors registered and they were locked.
Charly and Holly exchanged a look as they headed through the hall to get their lunch.
“Ominous,” Charly said with a laugh. “She’s always so ominous, that one. There’s nothing on my back, right?”
“She meant it figuratively.”
“Ominous and metaphorical.”
“She’s right, though,” Holly answered. “You’ve got a temper. Everyone knows it. You’d be better off sleeping till your release day.” They hung back behind the rest of their cohort. Meals occurred in shifts, and stragglers from the previous shift still lingered at their tables, while others headed out through the secure doors to the yard to stretch their legs.
“I’m so ready to get out of here. No more fights for me. I’ve sworn them off,” Charly said, grinning. She was a hand shorter than Holly, with a larger frame that matched her name, Charly Stout. Her dark, curly hair was frizzy from the lingering humidity left by the rain that had washed through the City of Jade Spires the night before. As they walked, Charly gathered the pile of frizz up into a pony-tail.
Holly laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it. I’ve actually started to wonder if you’re afraid to get out. To leave me behind.”
It was Charly’s turn to laugh. “You mean you can’t give me up. If anything, you start the fights so I have to join in. Defend you. You’re too skinny to survive a real battle.”
Holly ignored Charly’s jab, though the part about her being thin was true. Holly preferred to think of herself as lean yet muscular.
Holly scanned the room. “But as far as our lovely minimum security prison goes, I’ve heard stories about the sorts of dungeons that used to pass as prisons. I’ve never really hated this place too much. At least it’s not max security. And the food’s not too terrible.” Rays of dust-filled sunlight filtered in through the strip of tall windows that lined the upper reaches of the hall. Women sat in small groups at round tables, picking through the food in front of them. “And we have chairs. You know Cremity? She told me that in max security the tables and benches are bolted to the ground.”
Charly scoffed. “The Centaus are idiots. They’re too nice. We don’t deserve the kind of trust they give us. We’re human prisoners in a Centau directed prison. If the Constellations were running things without interference from the Centaus, everyone would be better off. Those idiots know how to treat criminals.”
“Charly,” Holly said, “you’re talking about us. Anyway, I’m not a criminal.”
“I know—you ‘were framed.’”
“I was.”
“I know.” Charly glanced to her side at Holly, flipping her pony-tail over her shoulder as she did. “You haven’t stopped talking about it since the day I stepped in to beat Korla down for you.”
“We did that together.”
“Sure we did.”
“I know how to fight,” Holly said, getting her hackles up. She took a breath, reminding herself that this was how normal people interacted. She’d been in such an abnormal situation for so long, it had become second nature to resort to defensiveness immediately. Charly teased. It was her way. She joked and put Holly at ease with her tough act. They’d spent hundreds of hours together since Charly showed up in prison three months after Holly’s sentence began, and they were now as close as sisters.
Charly winked at Holly. “Shut up. I know. I taught you, remember?”
Holly forced herself to laugh. The muscles across her chest relaxed as she let the tension go. “Definitely. Before you, I had no idea how to defend myself. It’s all thanks to you.”
Charly grinned and gave Holly’s turquoise jumpsuit a slight tug to indicate that it was in good fun. They wore the same type of turquoise-colored jumpsuit—all the prisoners did. Holly and Charly skirted several tables full of chattering women. As they passed a specific group of women, two of them—Korla and Jalia—paused their conversation to look up at Holly and scowl openly. Holly’s skin prickled. They were hardened women who’d been in the pen many times. Both were pale Constellations with the mixed red and black short hair and square ears typical of their race. Their faces were branded with the orange tattoos that female Constellations adopted after picking a profession.
“Keep it down.” Holly leaned toward Charly’s ear and flicked her gaze to Korla and Jalia so Charly would glance at them. “I know you’re excited about getting out, but those jerks are not. They’re plotting, I can see it.”
“Really?” Charly shot a look toward the two women. She smirked and grabbed a tray. Holly followed and they started down the line, jostling against the other inmates in front of them. “Whatever. Everyone knows this is my week. Plus it’s not like I did anything bad.”
“Mmm. Blackmail isn’t some noble thing.” Holly put a vegetable pie on her tray. She wouldn’t miss the food when it was finally her turn to put this era behind her. She bit her lip, remembering that she still had three and a half years left.
“Definitely not the same as murder,” Charly muttered, grabbing whole pieces of fresh fruit from a bowl in front of the inmate working on the line.
Holly shook her head but didn’t say anything about Charly’s comment. She didn’t mean it that way—as a reference to w
hat Holly had done. Manslaughter and murder were different, and they both knew that.
They finished filling their trays and headed to a table with a few empty spots.
“I’d ask you what I should have done,” Charly said once they’d settled, revisiting the blackmail comment. “But I already know what you’d say—walk away. Let them get away with their crimes.” Charly began to nibble on an apple and made a face. “This tastes like dust.”
“It always does. That’s why I get the baked stuff.”
“The least they could do would be to have decent food. Brightly painted walls and nice furnishings don’t make up for the animal feed they give us.”
Holly took a bite of her pie, choking it down. “What I wouldn’t give for a bowl of ramen. Or a few tacos.”
A shadow fell across Holly’s plate. The words died on her lips. She looked up.
“You dickheads done here?” Korla hovered over them.
Jalia, who was a head taller than Korla, stood behind her trying to look menacing.
“What the hell?” Charly stood up.
“Charly, don’t—” Holly said, lifting her hand to calm her friend down.
Korla reached down and swept Charly’s tray off the table. The fruit, a glass of water, and a hunk of bread soared away in a wide arc, most of it knocking into the back of a woman at another table.
“Sorry, that wasn’t me,” Charly said when the woman turned to see who had done it. Charly spun back to Korla and Jalia. “You won’t get away with that,” she growled. Her brown gaze darkened, her mouth curled into a snarl. Charly’s ancestors were islanders from old Earth. She naturally had a low-center of gravity, which she used to her advantage in a fight.
“Yeah? What are you going to do about it? As far as I’m concerned I can do whatever I want, to whoever I want. This is my territory. Mine and Jalia’s. We own this place.” Korla jerked her thumb back at the taller woman, Jalia, then jabbed her finger into Charly’s shoulder. “You don’t sit where I don’t want you to sit. You ask, ‘Korla, is it OK if I sit here?’ And I will either say yes or no. If I say no, you sit on the ground, bitch. Do you understand?”
Charly’s face had gone from light brown to a furious red. Her fists were clenched, the turquoise jumpsuit over her chest rose and fell in rapid motions with her breathing. Holly could swear she saw Charly’s heart beating like a trapped bird in her neck all the way from the other side of the table.
Ixion’s ghost. This is not going to be good. Holly stood and stepped in front of Charly to prevent her from doing something rash. It wasn’t the first time Holly had played that role, trying to keep her friend from fighting, nor was it the first time that Charly was only a few days away from freedom. But always—always—a fight broke out, which pushed her release-date back. Holly stretched her arms out between the two parties and made placating gestures.
“Calm down everyone. The thing with our food? No big deal, Korla. Totally an accident. We’re prepared to put that behind us,” Holly said. Charly blinked in surprise as though to say, hell no, I’m not putting that behind me. Holly continued. “Now, let’s get some perspective, all right? Korla, listen, this is the first time either of us have heard of your rules. We had no idea that the cafeteria was your territory. No idea. But we’re totally fine with that. Next time we come in, we’ll double check with you about where we can sit.” They wouldn’t. But that didn’t matter. The point was avoiding a fight.
Korla’s face screwed up into a sneer. “Are you making fun of me? Watch yourself, you little top-knotted bottom-dweller. Besides, I don’t buy it. You knew.”
It was like she wanted to fight. Holly suddenly remembered how they’d scowled as Holly and Charly entered the chow hall.
They’re trying to screw it up for Charly.
Throwing their food, jabbing Charly in the chest, claiming the chow hall was their territory. They wanted a fight. Not really news, to be fair, but Holly knew for certain now that she couldn’t let Charly get into a fight.
But there was no way Holly could explain that to Charly at the moment. There would be a fight—that was Korla’s goal. Damn, Holly thought. There’s no way I’m going to let that happen. Charly shouldn’t even be in prison.
“You want a fight, Korla? Is that it? You trying to mess this up for Charly? You’re so transparent. Push Charly, get her to fight with you, and they tack three more weeks onto her sentence. Have I got it right?”
Korla blinked. Her pale Constie face melted into a mask of shock, but just like that, it had transformed back into a snarl. “I’ll break you for saying that,” Korla sneered.
“Bring it on, Korly-cue.” Holly turned and pushed Charly back, away from the ensuing fight. “Don’t get involved. You’re going free this week if it’s the last thing I do for you.”
Something crashed hard into Holly’s head. Stars flashed in her vision as she rocked forward and caught her balance. A clatter filled the room as chairs slid back and other inmates rushed to the perimeter for safety. The females of the City of Jade Spires Minimum Security Prison for Women were criminals, but most of them weren’t violent criminals. And a fight meant more time in the lock-up and possibly a lot of wounds that those who managed the place didn’t want to fix. Usually injuries went ignored, unless the Centau official came through to inspect the facility. That was when things got done.
“Holly!” Charly shouted as Korla hit Holly in the head with a tray again.
Holly cussed and struggled to regain her balance. She turned, an ire she hadn’t felt in months rising in her chest like a raging monster. This was why Holly didn’t like to fight: it reminded her of an ugly time in her life.
But she let the beast out as Korla swung at her again with the tray. Instead of dodging it, or moving, Holly swung her fist straight at the tray. It was made of some kind of plastic polymer and her hand crashed through it, the material splintering and flying like shrapnel from a bomb. She jammed her other fist into Korla’s gut. The Constie crumpled to the ground, her breath exhaling in a whoosh.
Holly shook out her fist, gasping. This wasn’t going to be fun.
2
“Korla! Get up!” Jalia yelled. The Constie turned to face Holly. Jalia’s dark eyes were bright and focused, yet Holly saw fear in them. It seemed their desire to screw it up for Charly surpassed their aversion to fighting.
Jalia came at Holly, a windmill of legs, one swinging right after the other.
Holly danced backwards. Wait, she thought. Maybe that’s concentration in Jalia’s eyes. Maybe it’s lust for blood.
Crap.
“Holly,” Charly called from the edge of the room. “Drop and sweep the planted leg!”
But it was too late. Jalia’s foot connected with Holly’s shoulder and sent her careening onto a table stomach-first. Chairs clattered to the ground as the table skated across the tile floor with Holly upon it. She almost gave up on the fight then—but she hoped Jalia would be done with the fight first. Or maybe Korla had had enough, and Holly wouldn’t have to call it.
Nope.
Before she could dismount the table-steed, she felt hands grasp the loose fabric of the back of her jumpsuit. She assumed it was Jalia and not Charly intervening to help get her out of danger.
Crap, Holly thought again, this won’t be good. Her toes barely scraped the floor as she was yanked off the table. She encountered Jalia’s face up close and heard the Constie’s ragged breathing. Her breath blew hot against Holly’s cheek, and unfortunately, reached her nose. It smelled of whatever atrocity Jalia had eaten for lunch. Holly had never felt so thankful for being tossed like a bag of feathers in a fight. At least she wouldn’t have to remain in that cloud of toxic smells for very long. Jalia grunted and threw Holly across the hall and into another table. She heard the women around the edge of the room gasp. Titters of laughter rose among them.
Guards didn’t stick around during lunch—it was basically a free-for-all and everyone’s first choice for staging a fight. Holly sometimes wondered
if a maximum security prison was a safer place for prisoners.
She scrambled to her feet, rubbing her bicep. She grimaced as she turned. Jalia was tough. No wonder the two Consties thought the dining area was theirs—they could claim it and defend it. But … when had that happened? Why hadn’t anyone else mentioned it to her and Charly?
As she turned to face Jalia, she saw that Korla was back on her feet. The shorter Constie glowered at Holly.
“I didn’t start this,” Holly said, trying to figure out a way to avoid the fight. “Should we call a truce?”
In answer, Korla grabbed a chair and charged at Holly, swinging it wildly at her.
Holly jumped behind an overturned table and crouched behind it to shield herself. The chair crashed against it, the reverberations concussing into Holly.
She cocked her head to the side, trying to hear what Korla was doing. How was Holly going to get out of this? The longer the fight went on, the better their advantage became, because there were two of them and one of her. She’d tire out faster than they would.
“Holly,” Charly whispered, suddenly kneeling beside Holly. Holly jumped, startled by Charly’s sudden appearance.
“You scared the hell out of me.”
Charly’s face was bright in anticipation of the clash. “I can’t let you do this alone. It’s ridiculous. I can fight for myself.”
“That’s not the question. You want to get out? Then you can’t fight.”
“OK, confession. I don’t want to leave you behind, either.”
“You can come back and visit. That shouldn’t be what you’re worried about. Now go!” Holly shoved Charly by the back of the neck away from the shelter of the table.
“You’re next, Charly!” Korla screeched as she came around the table.