Lost Planet 01 - The Lost Planet (10 page)

“Don't, Parker.” Chase grabbed his wrist. “He's going to help us.”

“What are you doing there?” asked Maurus behind them. He had emerged from the bunkroom with a slim silver case in his hand.

“What's that?” asked Parker. “Did you take that from my cruiser?”

“It's nothing,” said Maurus, tucking the case into his jumpsuit. “It's mine.”

The Starjumper was slowing its descent and began to swing backward onto one of the docking platforms. Once it settled on the firm surface, Maurus opened the exit door and swung out onto the platform. He reached inside to hoist Mina out of the vehicle, grunting with effort as he lifted her and turned away.

“Wait!” Chase scrambled out of the vehicle after him.

Maurus quickly crossed the platform toward the back wall of the shaft, where there was a series of sliding metal doors. He carried Mina in both arms, her face pressed into his chest and her long brown hair trailing out over his arm.

“Where are you going?” Chase called after him.

“Hold up!” shouted Parker, climbing out of the cruiser.

Maurus turned back to Chase, freeing one hand to fish something from his pocket. “Here,” he said, holding out Parker's knife in its green sheath. “You should carry this.”

Chase took it, confused, and slid it into his pocket. “But we're coming with you.”

Maurus opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a small hovercraft that zipped onto the platform. A medic in white uniform leapt down from the controls and approached the group.

“Sir, I understand you have a medical emergency here,” said the medic.

“My wife,” said Maurus loudly, stepping toward the back of the platform as he spoke. “Prone to seizures. She'll be fine. I can take her to the hospital myself. Would you please help my two young friends over there? We rescued them from a disabled ship. Both their parents have perished in the disaster and they're very distraught.”

As the medic turned his attention on Parker and Chase, Maurus stepped through a set of metal doors at the back of the platform with Mina in his arms. The doors slid closed behind him and he was gone, leaving the two gaping boys behind.

 

CHAPTER NINE

“Wait, stop!” Chase stared at the metal doors that slid closed behind Maurus and Mina. What had just happened?

Parker bolted past and pounded the console beside the doors. He turned as Chase jogged up behind him. “Why did you let him go?”

“
I
let him go?”

“You stood there and watched him take her!”

“Then go after him!” Chase said, waving his hand at the doors.

“That's an airshute, you idiot.” Parker rapped on the console again. “By the time these doors open, he'll be long gone on the surface.”

The medic stood next to his hovercraft. “Hey, boys, come on,” he called. “I can take you from here.”

Parker pushed Chase out of the way and marched toward the hovercraft. “Take us to the surface. We can still catch his trail if we hurry.”

The medic shook his head. “I'll take you to the refugee station so you can get registered. That man can take care of his wife's problems on his own.”

“Are you a moron? That wasn't his wife, he just stole my android! We need to go after him, right now.”

The medic's expression hardened. “You'll have to report it at the refugee station. Now get on board.”

Parker crossed his arms and scowled at the medic. At the edge of the platform, a gray-uniformed Fleet soldier stepped down off the hovercraft. “Are these boys giving you trouble?” he asked.

Chase took a step backward. Maurus might not have recognized him, but Dr. Silvestri's last words echoed in his mind nonetheless:
Do
not
go to the Fleet
. He exchanged a quick glance with Parker, and without a word they spun around and ran.

“Hey!” shouted the medic. “Get back here!”

Leading the way, Chase sprinted toward the vehicles docked along the circular platform. He dodged around a long, narrow airship, right into a hanging metal flap that the owner must have forgotten to close. Stumbling a step, he grunted in surprise, but was already past it, his face tingling where he must have grazed it.

A second later, he heard a thud and a cry behind him. He looked back, still running, and skidded to a stop. Parker lay flat on the platform, his hands clutched to his face. A streak of blood painted his forehead right at his hairline, where he'd opened up a wide gash.

Chase looked back at the metal flap, touching his own forehead. How had he managed to miss it? He looked at his hand, but there was no blood.

“Aughhhh,” Parker groaned.

Chase started back to his side. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, that's just great,” said the medic, who'd jogged up beside them. “Why do you dumb kids always have to run? That laceration's too big for steamgel. You're going to need a lasobind.” He pulled a bandage from his satchel and pressed it on Parker's forehead, helping him to his feet. “Come on, kid. You've earned yourself a trip to the medical center.”

Chase kept his head tipped down and didn't look the soldier in the eyes as they boarded the hovercraft. A practical side of him insisted it was silly to constantly think he might be recognized, but the memory of the soldiers who'd chased them on Mircona was still too fresh in his mind to take any risks. He crouched in the back of the vehicle as they flew into the deep shaft and zipped past rows of docked vehicles, cool air rushing through the open hovercraft.

Parker glared at him with one eye, pressing the soaked bandage to his head. “Thanks for warning me there was something in the way.”

Chase gave Parker a pat on the shoulder. “Sorry about that. I guess I was running too fast.” Inside, he fidgeted, wondering how long it would be until they could get away from this soldier and look for Maurus and Mina.

“Hey, am I going to have a scar?” Parker asked, raising his voice.

The medic turned from the front, where he sat beside the Fleet soldier. “No, but you might have a concussion. You'll have to get a scan.”

The hovercraft emerged from the portshaft into muted daylight. Chase wasn't sure how many hours had passed since they'd left Trucon, but based on how exhausted and hungry he felt, it was at least the middle of the night for him. Here on Qesaris, it looked like early morning. They flew into an endless forest of gray buildings and headed around an enormous, circular structure with grand arched entryways. Throngs of people milled in and out of the building, and even from where they flew, Chase saw expressions of shock, grief, anger, resignation—an overall atmosphere of misery and loss. He tried to look for Maurus, but instead his gaze was caught by a sobbing woman clutching the arm of the grim-faced man beside her, while a few feet away an older man with a white beard screamed at the sky. Soldiers in gray uniforms milled through the crowds around them.

They soared away from the stadium and down a street buzzing with sky traffic, darting between vehicles as they sped ahead. Tall skyscrapers hemmed them in on either side, disappearing into a smoggy haze above. After a few turns and one very long stretch, they pulled up outside a monstrous building. Its exterior was several shades darker than most other buildings, and covered almost the entire block, looming over the street. Half the windows were covered in metal bars.

The medic jumped off the hovercraft and led them inside the dark building into a lobby packed with confused, angry people. He looked around, shaking his head. “What a mess. Just, uh, get in line here, and someone will come take care of you.”

“Get in
line
?” asked Parker. “I could die of a concussion before I get helped.”

The medic rolled his eyes. “You'll be fine.” He turned and left, abandoning them in the middle of the chaos.

A group of soldiers entered the lobby and began weaving through the crowd. Chase lowered his head and tried to casually block his face with his hand. “We need to get out of here,” he said under his breath.

“What, you think I'm okay to go?” Parker said loudly, lifting the bandage to reveal the oozing gash on his forehead. “Does it look good to you?”

Chase winced. “Alright, yeah. You need to get that looked at.”

“They're probably only going to make me check in, but if they ask you, don't try to give your real name this time—you're still Corbin Mason, and I'm your brother.”

“Shouldn't you change your name too?”

“You're right. I'll be Livingston Mason.”

“Livingston?”

“You have a better one?”

“I could think of a thousand.”

Parker rolled his eyes. In front of them a tall blond boy turned around and gazed at them with watery, bloodshot eyes. “Where were you?”

“Huh?” said Parker.

“When it happened, I was on an autobus, heading home from school,” the boy continued in a shaky voice. “The driver yanked the bus offtrack and headed skyward … I don't know where my … my…” His eyes filled with tears.

“Oh. Well, we were on Mircona,” said Parker awkwardly. “Didn't even realize what was going on until the whole planet looked like a bonfire. Wild, right?”

The boy stared at Parker for a moment. “Freak,” he mumbled, turning away.

“What is wrong with you?” hissed Chase.

“What?”

Chase shook his head and looked away, embarrassed. On one side of the room, a makeshift registration area had been set up. Chase squinted at the men sitting behind the tables, taking people's information. They weren't human—even he could see that—their movements were stilted, and they had smooth, peach-colored skin and glassy eyes that never blinked.

“Are those androids?”

“Ding ding ding, genius,” said Parker. “Lords, I'm starting to feel dizzy.”

An older female officer in a tan uniform cut her way across the room, shouting orders at the soldiers. “Get a system in place! This is not hacking it, private,” she barked. She stopped in front of Parker. “What have you got under there?” she asked, nodding at his bandage. When he showed her, she pulled an instrument from her belt.

Chase dropped his head, hiding his face. From the corner of his eye he watched the woman's round, rosy face, with a clipped blond-gray bob and bright blue eyes, making her look like the world's oldest baby doll, dressed in military gear. She held Parker's chin with one hand and pointed the device at his forehead with the other.

“Ow, that stings!” said Parker.

“Of course it does,” she said. “Where's your family?”

“Dead.”

The officer bit her lip and didn't speak as she finished mending the gash on Parker's forehead. When she was done, she gave it a wipe and examined her work.

A soldier appeared on her right. “Colonel Dornan, vector command wants you in a telecon right away.”

The woman nodded, focusing all her attention on Parker as she pulled out another device and held it in front of each of his eyes. “We should see about sending some of the orphans over to recruiting,” she said quietly to the soldier.

“Kinda young, isn't he?” he asked.

Chase glanced up to see her reaction. Recruiting? Did she mean for the Fleet?

Colonel Dornan shrugged. “Okay, you're all set,” she said to Parker. “Wait here and someone will take you back to refugee registration.” She turned to the soldier, and as they walked away, Chase heard her complain that they should be processing everyone this quickly.

He looked at Parker. “Can we go now?”

“After you.”

It was easy to slip out of the chaotic medical center and onto the street. Hovercraft traffic zipped by in orderly lines overhead, but on the ground only a few wheeled vehicles rolled past. Chase sped down the street, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the medical center. “Which way?” he asked, stopping on a corner.

“I think we're okay now.” Parker placed his hand against a building. “Woo, dizzy. Let's sit down somewhere. There.” He pointed down the street to a doorway with a magenta sign hanging over it that read Captain Orion's.

Inside was a bustling, brightly lit café, filled with the comforting smells of fresh baking and hot grease. They squeezed their way through the tightly packed room and took seats at a small table near the back. The walls of the café were covered in video screens, each one blaring an advertisement for something called ReNuvaGel, accompanied by images of a nondescript woman's wrinkle-free face. Parker tapped on the illuminated tabletop and began scrolling through a list of pictures.

Chase laid his head down to rest his cheek on the cold, smooth surface. His head whirled as the remaining shreds of panic dissipated. They were safe. For now. “What did that officer mean about recruiting you for the Fleet?” he asked.

Parker shrugged. “Another warm body to serve the Federation. They're always pulling shady stuff like that. Yes! They have scrappies here! I hope you're hungry.” His fingers flew excitedly over the tabletop. “What's wrong with you?”

Chase took a deep breath. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten and he was starving, but that wasn't his first concern. “What are we going to do now? There's no way to contact Asa without Mina, right?”

“Right. We just need to find her.”

“Okay,” Chase said sarcastically. “No problem.”

“You're forgetting something, dummy.”

“What?”

“Maurus told us what ship he serves on. The
Kai Desser
or something. We just have to find it and then we'll be able to find him.”

Chase snorted. Parker had a magical way of making things sound easier than they really were.

“Hey, sit up. Food's here.”

“Already?” Chase lifted his head off the table as Parker took drinks and paper packets from a tray hovering beside them. Chase unwrapped one of the packets and found something that looked like a dense orange sponge. He poked it cautiously.