Ricochet (24 page)

How the hell could she possibly know that? Hadn’t he been tracking the bastard this whole time? If Chaf really had such a thing planned, he’d already be wise to it, except…his racemate had done a fair job of commanding his attention.
Dammit!
“I’d love to agree, but none of this is making sense.” He forced himself to relax now that the imminent threat of her defection had ebbed.

“Get your head out of your ass for once.” A soft curse followed the statement. “This morning, there were four teams in the lobby, since we all departed within minutes of each other. Chaf’s was one of them, and he was extremely buddy-buddy with the Grecorians. When I raced with him, he never accepted help from other teams, and he definitely never shot the breeze with them.”

“Your point?”

“As I glanced their way, Chaf gave me that certain grin that always meant he was up to trouble.”

Stratton tried to picture the avian-human hybrids but came away blank. In his defense, he hadn’t been paying attention to anyone this morning but Willa. “You think he’s guilty?”

“He has to be. I spent the last year with him on the circuit. I know that look.”

A soft electronic beep pinged through the cockpit. “Three minutes until target.”

“If Chaf has made a deal, what are we going to do about it?” He shifted into a more comfortable spot on the seat, waiting.

“It’s not complicated. We get to the Shooter and follow the bastard on whichever route he takes. I have a feeling he’ll stick to the racecourse, but since it’s not a given, it’s all up to chance. I don’t know how that’s going to play out for you.”

“Why?” Her reasoning didn’t make sense. Would Chaf cheat? Of course, but to swap teams? Doubtful. He couldn’t see the Grecorians risking their placement for a guy like Chaf.

“The Nebulon Trike’s end is highly visible and will be swarming with interplanetary media. No way will you be able to nab him then, especially if you’re wanted on crimes as well.” Her sharp intake of breath betrayed the depth of her emotions. “Are you wanted?”

That’s debatable.
“Depends on what section of the galaxy you’re asking about.”
There are some tiny provinces that don’t know who I am.
For a second, panic seized him. Would the knowledge be a deal breaker for her? “Does it matter?”

“Not at the moment.”

Again, the computer interrupted. “Target will be reached in ninety seconds.”

He’d have to work on his own crimes later. “Fine, tell me what you think we should do.” Stratton eased his fingers from their fisted form. “What’s Chaf planning?”

“I believe he’s switched ships. I don’t know how, because he’s always been a fast talker.” The clicking of her console filled the silence. “I wouldn’t put it past him to have bribed that other team to follow his first set of coordinates.”

“How much would it have cost him?” He couldn’t believe Chaf, the lover of material things, would give up anything of value.

“I don’t know. How much will it cost him to be caught?” She tapped his shoulder. “He had to give up his ship. Personally, I know he’d rather die than do that, so he must be desperate. Whatever you’ve got on him must be big.”

“A little bit.” Been trying to catch the bastard for months. What if Willa was wrong in her guess? They could follow the alleged ship only to discover Chaf had indeed taken his escape route. Would Willa screw him over like that? Did she have a secret alliance with Chaf? It was hard to tell. Connecting with someone after sex didn’t mean they wouldn’t betray you.

“Target acquired. Please enter new coordinates.” If possible, the computer’s tone was vaguely accusatory. When neither he nor Willa said anything, the computer continued. “Awaiting new orders.”

Willa’s hand on his shoulder tightened. “I’ll tell you what you told me a few days ago. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to trust me.”

Ahead, the Cangatarist Shooter loomed. The structure itself was easily ten stories tall, equipped in the rear with circular charging bays made of glass and steel, while a lighted track jutted from the front. Red-and-blue lights blinked on and off. In order to make use of it, a racer would back his ship down the path until it rested within the charger.

Stratton stared at the panorama for long moments. Then, with the shake of his head, he decided his fate. “Computer, sync to the coordinates that will take us to the final leg of the Nebulon Trike. Disregard any other instructions on the hard drive.” He readjusted his hand around one of the joysticks, feeling the supple leather covering against his palm. “Willa, please notify the operators of the Shooter that we’ll be utilizing their services.”

It was a huge gamble, but she was right. It all came down to trust.

Chapter Fourteen

Willa did as he asked. The Cangatarist Shooter glimmered with an ethereal light, the lone salvation for both Stratton and her. The huge disk base gleamed in a halo of white illumination. This bastion of technology and power was the last chance either of them had for meeting their goals. She bit her bottom lip as she tried to remember how the machine worked. Back in the day, when her father had taken her through this section of the galaxy, he’d explained in great detail the mechanics behind the Shooter.

The dual turbines operated on countless Ginix crystals. Her father had given her a long-winded narrative of technical mumbo jumbo, but she’d worked out in her mind that it would generate a propulsion field around the ship, building up ion-charged energy that would shoot their spacecraft several parsecs through space. With that accelerated velocity, the
New Independence
would be able to sustain hyper-light speeds for a good half hour or so, but…

Oh, no. Now I understand why Father said using the Shooter is last-resort tricky.
They’d either make it to their destination, or they’d fall apart. There was no way to tell.

From the forward seat, Stratton said, “Did you make the arrangements?”

“Yes. The man I spoke to said once the lights on the track turn all green you’ll be free to make use of the Shooter, but—”

“Great. Easy fix. I can’t believe how well this is going.”

The ship banked slightly to port, and Willa’s stomach dropped into her boots. “Sin, this isn’t going to work.”

“Sure it will. I’ve heard good things about this. Is it the ideal situation? No, but we’ll get through it.”

She tried to draw courage from the confidence in his voice. Watching out the window, she drew in a slight breath as the track lights burned a clear, eerie green. “It’s a go.” What was a person supposed to think when faced with the one act that could potentially be the end of her life? She bit her bottom lip and felt her pulse pound in her throat.
It’s been a good ride, but I’m not ready to call it quits.
She evened out her breathing.
Gotta trust, gotta believe.
“Once we’re locked into place we’ll need to input coordinates before the launch.”

“No problem. That’s why you’re the nav and I’m the pilot. We’ve come full circle.”

“Can you stow the attitude for one second?” Mentally counting to ten while waiting for her own anger to dip below simmering, Willa decided to forge ahead and break the bad news. “Using the Shooter won’t be enough to put us on the last leg of the course.”

“Sure it will. You worry too much. Must be that tiny chromosome that rewires your girlie brain to go hysterical.” He maneuvered the ship onto the docking track, nose forward, hovering slightly above the runners. He eased the craft backward until the glass charger housing ensconced it. “What makes you think so?”

“Though Renara will be reached in an hour at hyper-light speeds, our boost from the Shooter will only last thirty minutes. We might be able to milk out a few extra minutes, but no more than that.” She worked her console as she double-checked the intel. “Even taxing our engines to their max won’t help. Honestly, we’d burn them out and be sitting ducks in the middle of nowhere for a while, maybe more if help doesn’t come right away. Not to mention we’d still be a hundred astronomical units shy of our target.”

Endless seconds ticked by as his brain tried to grasp the concept. Finally, he nodded. “I see. So we really are screwed.” Dejection and anger mixed in the softly uttered statement. He slammed a fist against the side of the ship. “Damn it! For once I’d like to have things go my way—our way.”

A series of beeps cut through the gathering tension. “Welcome to the Cangatarist Shooter. We’re happy you have decided to make use of our facility. As the machine charges, please input your coordinates. Be accurate, as this will affect directional swing.”

“What do we do now?” This time Stratton’s voice was devoid of all emotion. “Should we go back to Treachin Houth?”

“Hell, no.” Willa’s heart ached for him and the situation they had no control over. “You can give up if you want. I don’t intend to. Let me think about this.” Yet here they were, stuck and probably trailing in last place. Had they failed on all levels?
No, damn it!
I’m a Lingorian. We don’t give up.
The stakes were higher now. Did she still want to finish the race? Yes, but she also wanted to help Stratton hit his goal as well. “We need some sort of anomaly, something organic that has natural power we can tap into.”

The
New Independence
began to rock from side to side as the charger powered.

Fine hairs on the back of Willa’s neck lifted from the energy filling the air. “Look at your star chart. Isn’t there a fairly large planet beyond Renara?”

Stratton called up the map on the windscreen, but his seat and shoulder blocked half of her view. “Actually, no. Renara is the fourth planet outside a sun. Why?”

“We can use it for a gravitational assist, as a sort of slingshot. If we point the Shooter to the planet and reach it within our hyper-light window, we can gain enough velocity from slingshotting through its gravitational pull to reach Renara.”
This is it. It’s got to work
. “It’ll work.” She needed the verbal affirmation.

“Yeah, but the larger planet is on the other side of the sun at the moment thanks to its slow orbit. We can’t use it. Nice try though.”

She curled one hand into a fist, then bit a knuckle. “Unacceptable.”

Another series of beeps rang through the cabin. “Please enter coordinates now.”

She blew out an annoyed breath. “We’ll use the sun. It doesn’t matter to me.” She input the intel for their new course into the ship’s computer. “That’s the new plan.”

“Are you out of your mind,
kita
? I know you’re trying for heroics, but come back to reality for a moment.” He struggled to turn around enough to look at her. “In order to get close enough to do this, we risk burning up, and even if we don’t, there’s every possibility the sun’s energy and radiation will fry our systems. Or at the very least, its gravitational field will pull us in
and we’ll die
. What don’t you get about that?”

What doesn’t he get about last-ditch effort at survival?
“Let me put it to you this way. How bad do you want to catch Chaf? I know I want to finish the Nebulon Trike like nothing I’ve ever wanted before.”

“You already know that answer.”

“All right.” She ignored the tightness in her throat. “We’ve worked too hard to let this stop us…beat so many odds in the last week…we have to try. If we don’t, we’ve already lost.”

The track for the Shooter glowed blue while a computerized voice said, “Charge complete. Now downloading coordinates.” Amidst the sound of grinding gears, the Shooter rotated eighty degrees to port. “Catapult will launch in thirty seconds.”

Stratton’s growl of annoyed acceptance filled her earpiece. “Fine, but if we die, I’m blaming you.”

“If we die, I won’t care. If we live, I’ll gladly take everything you want to dish out.” She grinned and rechecked her safety harness. “You’re the guy who lives for adventure, remember? Consider this your greatest one so far.”

“Bite me.”

She laughed out loud at that. “If we survive, I’ll bite you anywhere you want.” Warm need settled between her thighs. “Hell, if you can shave a few minutes off our time, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.” If that wasn’t enough incentive for the man, she didn’t know what would be. At least she’d benefit from his making good on the promise.

“It’s a deal. Now be a good girl and shut the yap. I have a job to do.”

Rolling her eyes, she nodded. “Impress me.” The computer began its last-second countdown. Willa’s entire body felt charged. Energy tingled over her skin, and the ends of her hair crackled. Seconds later, a huge force launched the
New Independence
into deep space, much like taking a ride on a super-fast elevator, except it took several seconds for her stomach to catch up. A few more seconds after that and the feeling returned to her cheeks.

“We’re two minutes from coming out of our hyper-light assist.” Willa’s stomach had stabilized enough that she didn’t feel as if it would break apart in her throat. “As you can see, our target will be reached momentarily.”

“If it gets any closer, my retinas will melt and I’ll be blind, but yeah, I see it.”

She glared at the part of his helmet that peeked over the seat. “I’m making slight course corrections now.” Willa worked the datapad, moments before she synced with the ship computer. “If all goes well, we’ll ride the edge of the gravity field. We can travel the push we accumulate like a wave. It should be enough of an energy boost to take us the rest of the way.”

“And here’s what I think will happen. Our skin will melt off, and the ship will blow up.”

“Argh! You’re impossible.” Willa kicked his seat, then cursed when she banged her knee on the console. “Here’s the only question you need to answer. Do you trust me?” Now that she understood how tenuous a hold trust actually had on her, she desperately wished he grasped the concept as well.

“I must be crazy, but yes.” His sigh blew through the intercom like a summer breeze. “Do what you need to. I’m itching to kick Chaf’s ass and score us some money. I feel a vacation coming on.”

The idea of Stratton on a beach somewhere in swim gear seemed so ridiculous, she couldn’t comment on it, yet it did beg the question—where did a man like Stratton go to get away from it all? He seemed to like
it all
. Having no answers, she concentrated on the task at hand. “Bear to starboard. We’ll make a partial orbit, picking up speed as we go. And there might be some…slight stress on the hull.”