“Is that true?” Soren interrupted.
She felt along the bottom of the chair for some sort of adjustment lever.
“Is what true?”
“Is the gravitation system damaged?”
Cyani sighed as she threw her knees wide to reach the pedals with her toes.
“Unfortunately, it is true, and their computer will confirm it. We’re in for one hell of a ride. Are you ready?”
Soren nodded. “What was the second thing?”
“What?”
“The second thing you needed?”
“Fuel levels.”
Cyani felt her gut drop as she mentally prepared herself for flying the ship. Placing her hands on the control globe before her, she took a deep breath and pushed the globe forward, bringing the sleeping ship to life.
Soren visibly tensed as the lights in the cockpit flared on the console. The ship let out a low rumbling moan that settled into a droning growl.
Cyani watched him out of the corner of her eye, hoping the shock blast and his technology phobia wouldn’t trigger another seizure in spite of the drugs he had taken. She needed him. Even if she could speak fluent Garu, which she couldn’t, the Garulen didn’t let women in their ranks. Who was she kidding? She just needed him.
A tinny voice rang through the cockpit. “Receiving damage estimates, status report . . .”
Soren placed the oozing hand on the control panel and pressed it to flatten the palm.
“Don’t forget to ask about fuel levels . . .” Cyani whispered. Soren glared at her.
“Ship in functioning condition, unable to determine nature of gravitation loss. Request authorization to test gravitation generators outside shields.” Soren pulled the hand off the panel and looked over to Cyani.
She nodded, but found she had nothing to say. Each second ticked by, swelling to the length of an eternity as the crackling static remained devoid of a response.
Vicca jumped into Soren’s lap and sniffed the hand with interest. He shoved her away.
“Soren, strap in for plan B,” Cyani warned, preparing to stand on the emergency thrusters. They would have to fly in and destroy the shield generator. I their ticket to freedom.
“Good work, soldier,” she whispered.
The static broke.
“Flight permission granted, stand by for escort.”
Cyani snorted, placed her hands on the globe, and positioned her feet for takeoff. “I have no intention of waiting for an escort. Are you ready?”
Soren pressed the palm to the panel again. “Flight permission acknowledged. Request information on fuel levels. Fuel indicator is ill-functioning.”
Soren winced at his sudden lapse in vocabulary and shrugged a hasty apology.
“Fuel levels adequate for mission,” the voice answered, but there was a questioning tone in the disembodied voice.
Soren pulled the hand off the console.
“
Adequate?
What was that supposed to mean?” Cyani huffed.
“Good enough for me. Let’s go.” Soren grabbed Vicca, tossed the hand, and pulled the flight harness over his shoulders, locking it into place.
Cyani worked the stabilizers with her hands as she ignited the thrusters. “Hold on, this should be interesting.”
With a surge of power, the ship took off, dipping low over the crater in the airfield then surging up toward the milky atmosphere shield.
Sirens screamed in the cockpit. Cyani blocked them out as she focused on her task. She had to power the energy converter and jump into macrospace before their “escort” arrived.
“Warning, breach of flight permissions. Stand by for escort.” The computer scolded in a blaring monotone.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Cyani ground out between her clenched teeth as the ship sliced through the shield.
The whole of the universe opened up before them, the stars brilliant in their intensity.
Cyani fought to place her feet on the top pedals as she simultaneously plotted their coordinates and initiated the energy converter.
Just then, an alarm blared and the sensation of weightlessness overcame Cyani. Soren shouted in shock as Vicca floated out of his lap, transformed into a giant ball of fluff with scurrying legs.
“Hold on!” Cyani yelled as she banged her fist against one of the panels.
With a loud resonant hum, the energy converter initiated. Soren grabbed Vicca, trying in vain to shove floating hair out of his face. He clutched her to his chest, determined to hold the panicked fox.
“Cyani, they’re coming,” Soren shouted over the alarms.
Snapping her attention back to their situation, she noticed the readout of the two stingships coming up fast on their tail. A blast shook the ship just as the gravitation generators came back online. Cyani slammed down into her seat.
More blasts rocked the ship, shaking loose an overhead panel that swung from wires above them.
“Hold it together, baby, we’re almost there,” Cyani muttered as she watched the bar indicating the ship’s interdimension energy potential slowly rise. Once it hit green, they could leap macrospace.
Using evasiveut e Garulen ships growing on the viewscreen. She slowed the ship, and with a gut-twisting lurch, the ship released the converter.
She nearly stood on the pedals, pushing the auxiliary engines into overdrive as she flipped them straight back and over, then twisted around until the tiny planet that offered their only hope of salvation swung into the viewscreen once more.
“View, 180 degrees.” The screen switched so Cyani could see what was happening behind them. They needed enough distance from the converter. It glowed like a tiny white and orange veined ball of blue fire in the blackness of space.
“Hold on, keep it running, baby,” she whispered to the ship as the Garulen ships tried to pull up to avoid the converter.
With a flash of brilliant white, the converter exploded. The cockpit went still for a fraction of a second, then the deafening
boom
rocked the ship. The force of the energy wave shook them with a ferocity that beat Cyani into her seat, the straps of her flight harness battering her shoulders and waist.
The ship tumbled out of control on the energy wave, cart-wheeling toward the planet.
“View, zero!” she screamed as the view switched, not that it did her much good. She fought to stabilize the ship, battling with the controls as the brilliant star, the heart of the system, blazed through the screen.
Turning their nose up and out, she managed to stop the spinning and roll the ship back toward their goal. Checking the sensors, she didn’t see the Union ships. Hoping the energy wave tumbled the Union ships as well, she stood on the thrusters again, determined to power them to safety.
Warning: Fuel levels are low.
“
Shakt!
” Cyani slowed the ship and pulled the nose toward the horizon as the planet loomed before them. She surfed the edge of the atmosphere for a minute before dropping the ship through the fire into the embrace of the planet.
“We overshot the Union outpost. I’m going to have to bring the ship down in the middle of nowhere.” She spared a glance at Soren, who looked pale as death. “Where is Vicca?”
“I don’t know.”
Her heart dropped into her boots. She didn’t have time to worry about her fox. They were going to crash, and they were going to hit hard if she couldn’t slow them down. The ship screamed through the planet’s atmosphere, red fire licking over the viewscreen.
The sweeping plains of the planet rushed toward them as Cyani tried to level off and bring the ship to a hover before dropping them to the ground. Her ears popped with a sharp pain that lanced down into her throat as the ship wobbled through the air. Using the force shields as a buffer, she dipped them low to the ground. The right thruster gave out.
A strange, paralyzing calm came over Cyani as she closed her eyes. She didn’t hear the metal crushing around her, didn’t feel the shattering glass abrade her skin.
She remembered her mother’s eyes, bright gold; they’d shone in the darkness that constantly surrounded them. Now that she knew Soren, Cyani couldn’t help associating the cat-like gaze of her mother with fear. Her mother never showed fear—did she feel it? Would she be ashamed that her daughter felt it now?
She pictured her brother’s boyish face, hiCyanier twin. She had never known a moment of existence without him. Even if his presence was only in her heart.
Is this what it is like to die?
Are these the things people think about?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The bone-crushing sound of the ship’s destruction shook her as the cockpit ripped away from the rest of the ship and tumbled across the savannah.
8
THE BLACKNESS SURROUNDED HIM. SOREN TRIED TO STRUGGLE AGAINST IT. He had to escape it.
I have to escape.
Panic rose in his heart like a wild animal. He thrashed against his restraints, the pain in his body nearly unbearable.
Then, like a cool breeze on his face, the familiar, overwhelming sense of calm stole through him.
“Lakal?” he whispered.
It couldn’t be. Lakal was dead. Lakal couldn’t be controlling his fear, but he’d known that mind-touch for years. He would never forget the feel of it. It was Lakal. He was near.
“Lakal, are you there?” Soren called. He felt the flush of hope and joy rush through his heart.
If he could feel Lakal, it could only mean one thing. He was dead, too.
How could death be so painful?
Soren groaned as he opened his eyes. Crushed and ripped metal surrounded him, pressing against his side as he hung suspended in his flight restraints.
They’d crashed. He was still alive.
The pungent scent of scorched earth and metal reached his nose as an ominous black liquid seeped from one of the crushed control panels. Flecks of blood spattered over everything.
“Cyani?” he called, turning his head to the side in spite of the sharp pain in his neck.
She lay lifeless, a dark stain of blood seeping through her hair.
“Cyani!” He ripped at his flight restraints. Fear tore his heart and lungs like a starving wolf at a carcass. He worked his body free of his restraints, and pulled his leg out from the crushed metal. A jagged edge ripped through the muscle of his calf, but he didn’t care. His heart pounded so fiercely, he could think of nothing else but the terror of losing her now.
Sunlight burned through a large hole in the twisted wreckage as Soren carefully unlatched Cyani’s flight harness and brushed bits of broken glass from her hair. He could feel her faint breath against his cheek.
Placing a palm on her breast, he felt her heart beating. It seemed weak to him, unsteady, but she was alive.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he promised. “We’re going to make it.”
With tremendous care, he lifted her out of her seat, and managed to pull them both through the hole.
The intensity of the sunlight seared Soren’s eyes. He squinted at a sea of grassland. Small fires burned around the wreckage of the ship, making the heat in the dry air undulate.
“We are going to get through this,” he whispered to her. “I promise.”
Once again, he felt the calming touch of Lakal. It simultaneously confused him and kept him focused. He looked up, scanning the endless grasses, then placed Cyani on the ground with delicate care.
Peeling off his shirt, he tore strips of the material to tie over the deep cut on her brow and bandage his leg.
“Wake up,” he ordered. “I need you to wake for me.”
She didn’t open her eyes, but her breathing hitched.
Soren ran his fingertips over her face. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “I can’t do this without you.”
He bent over her and brushed a kiss on her forehead, then over her lips.
“I can’t,” he murmured against her lips. He kissed her deeply, pouring his fear and his desperation into the caress, hoping it would wake her. With the drugs in his system, his kiss had to be potent enough to wake her. Her lips felt too soft, too yielding. It terrified him. She had to wake. She had to. Any moment she’d open her eyes and slap him.
He pulled away, careful to watch for any sign that she might recover. She sighed. Her eyelids fluttered, then remained closed.
Soren looked up at the endless blue lavender sky. There was nothing else he could do. In that moment, he felt more alone and helpless than he ever had in his tortured and chained existence.
Calm.
He couldn’t panic. Cyani needed him.
On the breeze he heard a faint yelp.
“Vicca,” Soren gasped.