Bringing Stella Home (14 page)

Outside the concourse, all the shops
and stores were boarded up or smashed to pieces. Glass lay
scattered about the ground, while several of the leafy trees lining
the main avenue were turning brown and slowly dying. Inside the
stores, the shelves were all empty, looted a long time ago. Eyes
stared out at him from some of the windows, wide and
afraid.

James walked mechanically, unable to
feel the ground beneath his feet. This wasn’t the home he knew. He
felt as if he were trapped inside a dream, powerless to do anything
but watch as he passed through it.

“
We were blessed, Adam,”
his mother said. “They razed two of the moons at K-3—completely
annihilated them. No survivors.”

“
I know, dear,” said his
father. He wrapped his arm around her waist. “At least they spared
us.”

Spared us?
James wanted to scream.
Can’t you see what they’ve done?

“
When they first came,” his
mother continued, “it was awful. The looting, the violence—the
worst of it was here in the central district.”

“
It’s bad,” his father
agreed, “but it’s nothing we can’t rebuild.”

She glanced up at him and smiled.
James bit his lip and drew in a sharp, frustrated
breath.

They walked past a few shops that were
still open, though gray utility tape on the windows attested to the
damage they’d sustained. Few people were out shopping, though. At
the nearest corner, a security guard stood watch with an assault
rifle in his hands.

“
Not all of the looting was
from the Hameji,” his mother said, her voice soft and distant. “I’m
sorry to say, but—”

“
Times like these bring out
the worst in any society,” James’s father interrupted. “I trust the
rabble-rousers have been contained by now.”

“
Yes.”

“
Then the worst is over.
All we have to do is rebuild.”

“
No,” said
James.

His parents stopped and turned to face
him. “What was that?” his father asked.

“
I said no,” said James,
catching up to them. “That’s not all we have to do.”

“
But what else can we do?”
James’s mother asked.

James opened his mouth, but a sharp
glance from his father immediately silenced him. They’d had this
conversation already, and James didn’t want to hurt his mother by
starting an argument.

“
James is just taking
things a little hard,” his father said. “He’s still very
young.”

“
You’re right,” said his
mother. She let go of her husband and gave James a big hug. James
did his best to swallow his growing anger.

“
At least this crisis is
bringing us together,” she said, smiling at them both. “I haven’t
seen so much unity on the station since I was a little girl. People
are looking out for each other now more than ever
before.”

Broken glass and plaster crunched
beneath James’s boots as he shifted from foot to foot. With less
than half of the shops and businesses still operating, the place
felt more like a ghost town than the home he remembered.

“
You don’t know how good it
is to have you back, dear,” his mother continued. “When we heard
about Kardunash IV, we feared—”

“
Hush,” said his father.
“We’re together now.”

Like hell we are,
James thought angrily to himself.
Don’t Ben and Stella matter to you at
all?

“
Don’t ever leave me!”
Jessica sobbed suddenly. She wrapped her arms around Adam and
pulled him in tight.

“
I won’t, honey,” said
Adam, rocking back and forth as he held her. “Neither of us will.
Right, James?” He glanced over his shoulder and gave James a stern,
meaningful look.

James swallowed. “No,” he said. “I
won’t leave you, Mother.”

A deep sinking feeling nearly
overwhelmed him, as if a hole had opened up in his chest. He numbly
stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his parents. His
movements felt empty, though—mechanical. Inside, he knew he was
lying.

Please forgive me, Mother.
Forgive me for leaving.
The thought made
his eyes burn and his vision blur. It was enough of a performance
to convince them of his sincerity, and that pained him all the
more.

* * * * *

A little over a week after her arrival
on the Hameji ship, Stella made her move.

She waited until lights-out on the
deck, when the halls were empty. With everything quiet and her
roommate sound asleep, Stella slipped out of her bunk and crouched
by the open doorway. Lying face down on the floor so as not to
upset the beads, she crawled silently on her stomach into the
hallway.

Her breathing came in short, silent
gasps as she crept along the wall toward the elevator. She passed
only two intersections on her way there, and both were empty.
Still, she had those guards at the upper level to worry about. The
moment she stepped out of the elevator alone, they would stop
her.

Fortunately, she’d planned for that.
In her right hand, she carried a small crystal bowl that she’d
taken from her quarters. She pressed it tight against her chest and
crouched behind a nearby set of drapes, her heart
racing.

“
Servant!” she called out.
“Servant!”

She waited in silence in the shadow of
the drapes. The seconds dragged by, and the crystal bowl grew slick
with the sweat of her hand. Why hadn’t the servant come yet? Nearly
a minute had passed, and yet—

The footsteps in the darkness were
soft, yet swift. Stella caught her breath and stole a peek down the
hall. Sure enough, one of the eunuchs was approaching—his white
shirt stood out in the faint blue glow of the night-lights that ran
along the floor. Only a few more moments and he’d pass
her.

Please go down
quietly,
Stella inwardly pleaded. She
didn’t know what she’d do if the servant cried out when she hit
him—or worse, if the blow actually killed him.

He was close enough now that she could
see his sandaled feet in the soft blue light. They were thin and
bony. Her hands trembled and her feet felt rooted to the spot, but
she lifted the bowl above her head, readying herself for the
strike.

Steady,
steady—NOW!

A sudden burst of adrenaline surged
through her as she sprung into action. In an instant, she leaped
from her hiding place and swung downward with all her
might.

It was over before the eunuch had time
to react. The glass bowl thudded against the back of the servant’s
head and shattered. He grunted and collapsed; Stella fell on top of
him.

She quickly sat up and looked at the
man. He lay facedown, arms by his side—he’d made no attempt to stop
his fall.

Please be all
right,
Stella thought desperately to
herself, checking his pulse with her fingers.
I didn’t want to kill you. Please don’t be dead.

His pulse was strong; he wasn’t dead,
only knocked out—exactly as Stella had wanted. She almost sighed in
relief, but caught herself in time. She’d made too much noise as it
was.

The bathroom lay between the common
room and the elevator. Stella expected the place to be empty at
this hour, and she wasn’t disappointed. The toilets were only
separated by thin cloth hangings, but so long as she hid the
unconscious servant in the last stall, she should be safe, assuming
he didn’t wake up.

The bead curtains clattered as she
entered the room, but that couldn’t be helped. As the automatic
lights switched on, she passed swiftly inside, hoping that no one
would see her drag the servant to the end of the room. His body was
heavier than she’d expected, and his sandals made a rough scraping
noise on the tile floor, but fear and adrenaline kept her
moving.

In a few seconds she was safe in the
stall. Working quickly, she stripped the servant of his white smock
and trousers, leaving him in his underwear.

Without wasting any more time, she
slipped out of her nightgown and tore three strips from it, long
and narrow. Ignoring her nakedness, she flipped the unconscious
servant on his stomach and tightly bound his hands and feet, using
the third strip to gag him. She then tore a wider strip from the
remains of her dress and wrapped it tightly against her chest,
flattening her breasts. Only then did she don the servant’s clothes
and step out from the stall.

She took a moment to check her work in
the mirror. The smock was a bit large for her, but it was good
enough; if anything, the bagginess would only aid in disguising her
figure. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she could easily
pass for a servant.

She checked the shirt’s inside chest
pocket. Sure enough, the card was there.

The elevator ride passed in a blur.
Her heart raced in her chest, and the sweat on the back of her neck
quickly grew cold. She leaned against the wall of the car for
support and prayed that the ruse would work.

Sure enough, a pair of guards were
standing watch outside the door. They perked up as she stepped out,
but she gave them a nod and continued through to the corridor,
keeping her head carefully turned so that they wouldn’t see her
eyes.

Please,
God—please.

It worked. Behind her, the soldiers
grunted and returned to their posts.

Excitement flooded through her, and it
was all she could do to keep from running. Of course, that was the
one thing she couldn’t do. Here on the main level, the lights were
as bright as at any time; it would only take one person peeking
around the corner to spot her.

Fortunately, she had a good idea where
the main hangar would be. The ship was clearly Belarian, and their
passenger liners all followed a similar design.

The upper decks could not have been
more different than the concubines’ quarters. Here, Stella saw no
decorations, no silks or tassels or shaggy carpets—only cold tile
floors and off-white walls. The corridor was lit with harsh
fluorescent lighting, and the air was noticeably cooler. Stella
shivered and hugged her chest to shield herself from the
cold.

The worst, though, was the feeling
that someone was watching her.

Thankfully, she made it to the end
without any incident. The corridor teed at this point, with a
particularly large elevator door on the opposite wall. Stella was
willing to bet that if she took it down, it would lead her straight
to the hangar bay floor.

Both sides were clear. Stella stepped
forward and keyed the access pad; the elevator door hissed
open.

“
Yah!” someone shouted off
to her right. A bolt of fear shot through her, bolting her to the
spot. For an instant, she thought of running, but realized she had
nowhere to run. Instead, she leaped inside the elevator and slammed
her thumb against the lowest button. Out in the corridor, she saw a
man running towards her, a gun in his hand. Soldiers followed close
behind him.

The door closed just in time. Her
stomach flipped as the elevator quickly dropped a level, but at
least she had time to catch her breath.

As soon as the doors reopened, Stella
bolted out at a dead run. She didn’t have much time—she had to find
a hiding place. Fortunately, the large, high-ceilinged room was
full of crates and boxes. Several unloading cranes dangled from the
ceiling, and the wall on one side was a giant door—a hangar
door.

Her heart leaped in her chest. This
was a freight hanger—she was in the right place. She didn’t see any
shuttles, but with luck, they weren’t too far away.

Behind her, she heard the elevator
doors hiss shut. In only a few seconds, she knew, the soldiers
would be after her. She ran frantically down a long row of shipping
crates and slipped into a narrow crack just as the doors hissed
open again.

Shouting and footsteps echoed
throughout the large room. Her heart pounding, Stella scooted to
the wall at the end of the crack. There was just enough space
behind the pile on her left for her to hide, if she sucked in her
stomach and squeezed.

She got there not a moment too soon.
The soldiers quickly filled the hangar, searching for her. The
noise of their shouting and footsteps echoed off of the
walls.

Stella’s legs went numb, and her
breath came in short gasps. She didn’t know how long she could hold
out, but she forced herself to remain calm and wait.

The shouting came steadily closer. She
closed her eyes.

Without warning, a gunshot ricocheted
off the wall next to her, filling the narrow space with terrible
noise. She screamed and covered her head. Shouts sounded above her,
and the face of one of the soldiers peeked over the top of the pile
of crates to stare down triumphantly at her. Stella’s muscles
turned to water, and she watched in horror as he lifted his
gun.

He didn’t shoot her, though—only
shouted and motioned for her to come out. For several seconds, she
was too frightened to move, but the harshness of his voice soon
compelled her forward.