Authors: Michelle Diener
“What does that mean?”
“It means take responsibility. If you have the opportunity to act, take it. Donʼt leave it for someone else to do at some other time. Why should they risk themselves more than you?”
“An interesting philosophy.”
“And one not often acted on, Iʼll admit. It makes us sound better than we are.”
Sazo laughed softly in her ear, then cleared his throat. A total affectation, as he didnʼt have a throat. She wondered which member of Davʼs crew heʼd got that from, because it wasnʼt her. Maybe it was Borji.
He shot her out of the bay, through the gel wall and into space.
Her breath caught and her heart slammed in her chest at the sensation of floating in darkness, surrounded by stars and the massive, looming planet in front of her. She been unconscious last time sheʼd been in one of these. Maybe it had been better that way.
“I have something to say that I should have said before you agreed to risk your life, Rose, and I probably shouldnʼt distract you now, but I find I canʼt keep it to myself anymore.”
She closed her eyes as the pod rotated a little, to stop herself feeling sick. “Well, spit it out.”
“I took you from Earth. Not Dr. Fliap.”
She didnʼt say anything, and he made a noise, as if he was nervous.
“I heard the music, and as you say, I must be Grih to the core, because it drew me. Dr. Fliap intended to take sentient life, intended to break the rules completely, including bringing up samples of some plants and basic life forms, but I wanted a music-maker as well. I thought Iʼd be less lonely if I had a music-maker to talk to.”
She sighed.
“I didnʼt understand what I was doing, Rose. I wasnʼt awake enough, at that point. Iʼd only recently learned about the other Class 5s. It was part of my waking up, wanting you to talk to, but I should not have let my selfish need for companionship steal you away from your home.”
“What was Fliapʼs reaction when I ended up amongst the specimens?”
“He thought that you must be less sentient than you appeared. That I had taken you because you were indistinguishable from a normal sentient being, and your appearance of advanced sentience must surely be a trick or some affectation. Thatʼs why he kept opening you up, testing you, torturing you.” Sazoʼs voice was actually trembling.
“But I knew. I knew you were advanced, that you were there because of me, and that every moment you spent on the table under his laser pen was my fault.”
“So you rescued me.” She spoke gently, trying to soothe him.
“Yes. And I rescued myself in the process. I didnʼt even suffer for what I did to you, I gained from it. The only one who truly suffered was you.” He was silent for a moment. “Iʼm sorry, Rose. And now Iʼm asking you to put yourself back in Tecran hands all over again. Iʼm not worth it. I can turn the maintenance pod around, if you want.”
“Sazo, I already knew it was your decision to take me.” Sheʼd known it since sheʼd gotten the handheld and started learning Tecran. Fliap had talked to himself a lot while he had her in his clutches, and sheʼd realized who was responsible for taking her as soon as sheʼd understood what he was muttering under his breath. He couldnʼt fathom why she had ever been scooped up.
But Sazo had known what she was right from the start. From his first contact with her heʼd conversed with her as an equal. And Sazo controlled the ship.
So he had to have known what he was taking when he took her.
She had come to grips with it months ago.
“You knew, all this time?”
She nodded, sure he could see her through some lens feed. “I worked it out from what Fliap said when I was with him, before you took him out of the picture——and yes, I know youʼre responsible for his coma, itʼs too much of a coincidence, otherwise.”
“And you . . . donʼt mind that I took you?”
“I mind, Sazo.” She couldnʼt think of home without feeling the huge, gaping hole in her heart.
“Iʼm really sorry.”
“Iʼve already forgiven you. Your mistake has cost me everything I know, but youʼve done your best to make it right, and I agree that Bane should not be left to the Tecran.”
“Thank you.”
The maintenance pod stabilized, either by design or with a helping hand from Sazo. She couldnʼt tell how fast she was moving, but it felt like only minutes before she saw the other Class 5 come into view.
“If Bane tries to shoot you, I will shoot back. No matter who he is.” Sazoʼs voice carried the same eerie calm Baneʼs had when heʼd told them he couldnʼt countermand the shoot order.
She didnʼt respond, but relief made her arms and legs feel a little shaky.
She had wondered if Bane would shoot her out of the sky, too.
Nice easy way to get rid of her, after all.
The pod powered closer and closer. Of course, they didnʼt need to shoot her out of the sky in the pod. Bane could make sure there was a welcoming committee for her when she entered the maintenance bay.
And that method had the added advantage of lessening the chance of Sazo firing on Bane, because then sheʼd be killed, too.
“I really shouldnʼt think things through so much,” she muttered to herself.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just going through the various outcomes.”
“They could be waiting for you when you come through the gel wall.”
“That was one of the outcomes I was considering.”
“Use the light gun.”
Oh, right. The light gun. Rose realized sheʼd forgotten all about it, and for one horrible, stomach-dropping moment, couldnʼt remember where sheʼd put it.
“In the right-hand pocket of your trousers.” Sazo must have seen her panicked pat-down.
Her hand closed around it as he spoke.
“Thanks.”
“Get ready.”
Somehow, while sheʼd been worrying about where her weapon was, sheʼd come so close to the Class 5, she could no longer see the whole of it, only one side, the detail of the outer-skin clearer with every passing second.
The gel wall came into sharp focus. Rose forced herself to breathe deep. “Here we go.”
T
here was
no one waiting for her. So Bane hadnʼt thrown her to the wolves quite yet. With any luck, heʼd disabled the lens and speaker feed for this room, as well, just as Sazo had asked him to.
The pod clipped into place and Rose hit the button to release the cover, light gun clutched in her hand. She approached the door and opened it cautiously, peered out into the passageway. There was a Tecran standing at a junction in the corridor system to her right, dressed in the familiar dark purple uniform the crew of Sazoʼs Class 5 had always worn.
His back was to her and he didnʼt look like he was planning on moving.
She withdrew her head and closed the door. “Bane?”
There was silence.
“Can you direct that crew member away?”
“I donʼt know how to do that.” Baneʼs psycho, eerie, horror-movie voice was back, coming through the speakers above her.
Rose couldnʼt control a shiver. “Okay. When you were talking to Sazo, you said youʼd only been able to gain some independence a couple of days ago. Sazo was what he calls awake for well over three months before he helped me escape. So perhaps weʼre asking way too much of you, here.”
She might as well give him the benefit of the doubt. It was that, or suspect he was just toying with her.
“Tell him to send a large stores drone here.” Sazoʼs voice sounded loud in her ear.
“Sazo says to send a large stores drone to the maintenance bay. I suppose I could get inside the box, and move about without being seen or causing any alarm.” Everything in her rebelled at the thought, though. Sheʼd be stuck in a box, with no way to see what was coming until it was too late.
“Scheduling a stores drone is a sub-level command, I can do that without permission.” Baneʼs voice was less monotone, and Rose took that to mean he was going to do it.
Sheʼd have to stay put until the drone arrived.
She leaned against the wall, drained of energy. Sheʼd been riding the adrenalin wave for too long, and now it dumped her on the shore of exhaustion.
“Thereʼs a crew member approaching this bay,” Bane told her, his voice soft.
She jerked as if hit by a cattle prod, her grip on the light gun tightening. She slid over so she was right next to the door, and the Tecran crew member was already three steps inside the room before he registered her presence.
He turned, beak-like mouth opening, and she stared at him, trapped by panic.
“Who are you?”
She understood the words, although her Tecran wasnʼt as accomplished as her Grih, but she couldnʼt speak. Couldnʼt form a reply.
Every time sheʼd been dragged from her cell, every exposed minute in her fishbowl cage, every pain from being pinned, kicking and screaming, onto one of Dr. Fliapʼs examination tables, flashed through her mind.
“Rose!” Sazoʼs sharp cry in her ear made her wince with pain. It pulled her into the now, and fumbling, she aimed the light gun at the Tecranʼs eyes, and slid the button down.
The end of the cylinder blossomed open into a cone, like a flower touched by the sunʼs rays, and there was a flash.
Rose blinked, seeing bright orange spots in front of her eyes.
It made it difficult to understand the true effect on the Tecran. He gave a short, hoarse scream and collapsed, turning away from her and the door, hands over his eyes, his body curled in a tight ball.
“I thought you said the user was protected from the flash.” Rose closed her eyes and watched purple, orange and blue lights dance in front of her.
“You were protected,” Sazo said. “Youʼre not rolling on the floor in agony, are you?”
“No, but my sight is affected.” Her eyes were different to the Grih, so they were definitely different to the Tecran. Sheʼd just have to be careful, thatʼs all.
She blinked one last time and then took the hand and feet restraints out of her side pockets and tied the crew member up. “I donʼt have a gag.”
“Take his comm unit from his shirt.” Sazo said.
“Bane, you do have the lens and speaker feed to this bay disabled, right?” She bent down and worked the tiny comm off the Tecranʼs shirt.
She was nervous being near him, let alone touching him, but he was still hunched over, moaning slightly, the soft pink skin around his mouth tight with pain. He didnʼt look anything like the hard-edged, strong guards whoʼd held her down for Dr. Fliap.
She dropped the tiny speaker onto the floor and crushed it underfoot. “Speaker only? Please donʼt tell me he was transmitting lens feed.”
“It was speaker only on my ship,” Sazo said.
“Yes, speaker only. Because of the privacy laws,” Bane confirmed.
“Right.” That was a relief. Otherwise, there would surely be someone coming to investigate. Or a lot of someones.
“Of course, his words and his cry were transmitted.”
She froze. “And?”
“Someone is coming to investigate.” Spooky Bane was back. “They are frustrated that the lens feed in this room seems to be down but are not overly worried as yet and have not demanded I restore it.”
“But they will,” Sazo said in her ear. “And when they do, he will comply.”
“Keep the good news coming.” Rose turned to face the door, light gun raised up. She was so stuffed.
“The stores drone is outside.”
She let out a laugh. “I like it when you take my sarcasm literally. Send it in.”
She hugged the wall again as the door opened, and the large, boxy drone entered. Its carrier box was more than large enough to fit her inside. “What do we do for a lid?”
“It has a retractable covering,” Sazo told her.
“Can I open and close it from inside the box?”
There was silence, which Rose took to mean no.
“Iʼm uncomfortable with the idea of being stuck in there, with no way to get myself out.”
“I will close and open the lid on your instruction.” Bane was still in creepy voice mode.
Sure you will, sunshine.
And yet, what choice did she have but to accept that he would? Without his help, she couldnʼt even jump back into the pod and leave, sheʼd need him to do that for her. It was follow this through, hope that he was sincere, or at least not openly hostile, or be taken by the Tecran.
Her hand rose to her throat as she felt the burn of nausea at that thought.
“Sazo . . .” She took a deep breath.
“The two crew coming to find out whatʼs happening in the maintenance bay are one minute away.” Bane sounded like he was nervous for the first time.
Was he buying into the whole escape thing at last?
“What choice is there, Rose?” No missing Sazoʼs urgency.
There was none. And the Tecran a few meters from her feet would be coming out of his pain-induced haze soon, and might just catch on to how she planned to get around on the ship.
She climbed into the box, crouched down, light gun pointing upward. “Ready. Get me out of here.”
A thin, segmented lid slid over, each piece clicking into the next as it closed her in.
“He could take me right to the captain on the bridge, for all we know, Sazo.” She whispered it, hoping Bane couldnʼt hear her.
“Why would he? You could have been in custody a hundred times over since you got on board, and youʼre still free.”
True.
And way too late to worry about it now. She was trapped in a moving box in the heart of enemy territory.
There was nothing she could do now but trust.
T
he drone turned right
and Rose heard talking and boots tramping behind her. The sound faded, and she guessed it was the team sent to investigate, taking the passageway to the maintenance bay.
Even if she had Baneʼs cooperation, it would be hard to get back out of the Class 5 that way, now. It had been her fall-back escape if things went wrong, to go out the way sheʼd come in, but she had to succeed now.
Sheʼd have to hunker down in the tiny control room where Bane was kept, while he slowly locked up and trapped everyone on the ship, and then Sazo could send a runner to fetch her from the launch bay.
Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy.
If
the Tecran checking on the maintenance bay hadnʼt seen the drone before they turned and came to the conclusion it was worth investigating.
If
the Tecran sheʼd injured hadnʼt been more with it than he appeared and realized how she got out of the bay.
There were a lot of ifs in her life right now.
She wondered how Dav was doing, whether he and the crew of the
Barrist
were prevailing against the onslaught of Tecran ships that had light jumped in with Bane.
The drone turned another corner, and Rose heard the unmistakable sound of people around her.
They were walking with purpose and talking quietly, as sheʼd expect if they were about to attack another ship of equal strength, but suddenly a high pitched tone came through the comms, playing out like the intro to an airport announcement.
A predetermined signal to indicate a security breach, she guessed. Theyʼd found the crewman sheʼd disabled in the maintenance bay and now they knew there was an enemy aboard.
The people around her definitely picked up speed, but no one ran, and the drone kept up with a number of them until it turned off once again.
There was quiet, now. If Baneʼs Class 5 was the same as Sazoʼs then the lock-safe was tucked off to the side, in an area labeled as drone storage.
“Weʼre here.” Baneʼs voice was quiet through the droneʼs comm.
The lid snicked back and Rose pulled herself up, wincing as the blood circulated to her arms and legs again.
She hopped down from the box. The wall in front of her looked the same as the one sheʼd gone through to get Sazo, but she had no idea which panel was the door.
“Three from the right,” Sazo said in her ear.
She walked up to it, but Bane made no move to open up.
“I wonʼt be safe until Iʼm inside,” she said.
“The question is, will I be safe if I let you in?” Bane spoke through the droneʼs comm.
“If you donʼt trust me, why have you brought me here?” She thought she heard the distant sound of running and she looked over her shoulder. “Iʼm risking my life to help you.”
He was quiet.
The running grew louder.
“Am I on a lens feed somewhere?” she asked, suspicion flaring that that was exactly what was happening.
“This area is restricted and has dedicated lenses. I am not able to override the lens feed here.”
“Thanks for mentioning that.” She spun, facing down the passage, her heart racing. “Let me into the lock-safe.”
His silence suddenly infuriated her.
“Bane. The door. Open it.”
She had the light-gun ready at her side, but held close to her leg on the door side of her body. Theyʼd be watching her through the lens feed. They may know she had a light-gun from seeing the maintenance manʼs injuries, but there was no sense in broadcasting her only defense.
The footsteps thundered louder, hard boots hitting the floor, and a group of five Tecran soldiers burst around the corner. They wore no eye protection, so maybe they hadnʼt figured out how sheʼd gotten the jump on the guy in the maintenance bay.
The advantage of surprise was about to disappear.
“Bane. Now!” She thrust a fist backward, thumping it against the wall while lifting her other hand, sliding down the button.
The cone at the end of the light-gun flared wider this time, the angle enough to encompass all the Tecran coming for her, and Rose closed her eyes and turned her face away, used the arm sheʼd hit the wall with to cover her eyes.
Only one of the Tecran screamed, and it was short-lived. When she raised her head she saw the rest had simply gone down, rolling, pressing their faces into the floor.
Behind her she felt a cool gust of air, and without even looking, stepped backward into the lock-safe.
The door slid shut in front of her, and she dropped both arms to her side and turned.
She was shaking.
Relief at being safe, shock at hurting so many people.
She drew herself straight, slipped the light-gun back into her pocket and lifted her shoulders to ease the ache of tension lying across them like a yoke.
“So, how do you want to do this, Bane?” She stepped up to the crystal in its slot, and pulled it out.
He was free now.
“Do what?” His voice was deeper. Fuller. And then suddenly there was a bellowing, furious noise that battered at her, had her crouching, hands over her ears, head tucked down.
“I felt like doing that,” Sazo whispered in her ear. “But it would have meant we might not have gotten away quietly, so I didnʼt.”
This was Bane, screaming in rage and relief and triumph.
As she closed her eyes, she felt the stomach-dropping sensation of being flung into a light jump.
She fell sideways, hitting her shoulder and the side of her head on the wall and then slid across the floor.
The room turned and spun and she fell onto what had been the ceiling, then back to the floor.
She slid again and heard the sickening thunk of her own head connecting to the wall, turned on her side as nausea washed over her, and then slipped into the beckoning black.