Chapter Twenty-Two
For two days, Roar spent hours at a time in a RomTek suit out in the space surrounding Equinox, losing hope with the passing of each minute. His injuries—courtesy of that Aurelite traitor—had long since healed, but the fact that he couldn’t find Leda’s trail rankled until he had a constant headache. The stink of failure burned his nostrils.
He hit the control for the airlock and pulled himself inside. The moment gravity came back, he felt the weight of the suit pressing down on him. Oxygen pumped into the small space around him in powerful gusts mimicking snow. His lips twitched as he recalled Leda’s distaste of snow and cold things.
Quick as the smile came, it vanished again. He missed her—something he hadn’t expected. From the moment the Elders recognized Roar as the Jäger, his life had become all about training. All about the weapon. Wanting something for himself? Unheard of. He hadn’t felt that intense craving…until now. He wanted her. Leda. Not just because she was the weapon, and he needed her to save Aurelis. He missed the sound of her laughter, her independence, her humor. He missed the feel of her in his arms when he woke up in the morning. The way she sighed in her sleep. Her mouth on his, and how she took charge. They didn’t have the rest of their lives together. From the way Leda had pulled away from him, maybe they couldn’t be together at all. But it didn’t matter when he couldn’t even find her.
He pulled his helmet off, disconnecting the neural link, and ran a hand over his sweat-covered brow. He’d reached a point of searching where the road ended at a dense jungle no one had explored, and he couldn’t decide how to venture on. Oline couldn’t locate any sign of the other ship, saying they must be using a technology far superior to Equinox, which meant whoever built the other ship had planned this, far before Roar and the others left on their mission. No matter the reasons behind the betrayal. Those responsible had condemned the lives of everyone on Aurelis.
Standing in the hall beside the airlock, Roar stripped off the RomTek suit and placed it in the case on the wall and set the cleaning cycle. His clothes were damp with sweat and clung to his body, making him itch. He knew what his next step should be, but Elder Esfric had ingrained in Roar as a child that he should always face a difficult situation clean and comfortable.
A wash and a clean set of clothes didn’t clear the fog from his mind. He headed for Arne’s cabin and knocked before he had a chance to back out. The door opened, and Arne smiled, waving him in. Roar entered the room, noting the mix of male and female touches in the room. Arne and Rika were definitely sharing this cabin.
The cabin was set up much like the rest. A bed and dresser at the far end of the room, with a bathroom to one side. Sofa and screen for entertainment in the middle. At the front of each room was the dining alcove, with a table and four chairs to one side of the door, and a meal prep area on the other. Each cabin had a food replicator, too.
As he faced Arne, a lead ball of guilt dropped in Roar’s stomach.
“Can we talk?” Roar glanced at Rika, sitting at the table with a file and medical pages spread out in front of her.
Arne reached for Rika’s hand. “You’d better leave us alone.”
Hesitant at first, Rika ceded to Arne’s request. She stood, taking her files with her. “I’ll be in sick bay if you need me.”
A tense few minutes passed once Rika left. Roar sat down in an empty chair at the table near the front of the cabin. He felt like someone had plugged him into a charging station. He shut his eyes and gathered his thoughts. When he looked across the table, Arne sat waiting, patient and thoughtful.
Roar took a breath and began. “We can’t find her. I can’t—”
“It’s only been a couple of days.” Arne placed his hands flat on the table. “Roar, it’s just not logical to expect instant results all the time. That isn’t the way the universe works.”
“But this is my purpose. I’m supposed to find her, and I can’t. No matter what I do, there’s nothing.” Roar hung his head. “There’s nothing.”
The man was silent for a beat. “Sometimes the greatest feats are borne out of desperation.”
Roar lifted his head. “Are you saying I’m not desperate enough, and that’s why I can’t find her?”
“I said nothing of the sort.” Arne’s eyes sparked, his lips tipped up. “I figured an upstanding Aurelite such as yourself would recognize the quote of one of the great early philosophers.”
Realizing his mistake, Roar sighed and shook his head. Elder Æthelric would be ashamed—his star pupil, failing at the only task he’d ever been given. Failing. Failing. Failing.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Arne stood and pushed his chair in. “Maybe we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing, right now.”
Roar had never gone for the passive “let things come to you as they’re meant to” bull. He’d rather take action. “I can’t sit around and wait anymore.”
“Just imagine how my mother feels.”
Roar paused. Inger had been waiting her whole life for something to happen, and then one day, along came Roar and the crew of Equinox. Passive might work for her, but he was losing his cool the longer Leda was gone. “You think we should wait for her to come to us? What if she can’t? What if—” He couldn’t finish.
“If you keep this up, you’ll make yourself sick with worry. Leda’s stronger than any of us know.”
“So I keep hearing. But we don’t know who that woman was or why she took Leda.”
Arne took a few steps across the room to his replicator and hit a few buttons. A second later the scent of coffee filled the air. “Think about what she said, how she acted. Play detective if you have to. Even if you come up empty handed, you’ll still feel like you’ve done something in the meantime.” He turned, coffee mug in hand, and faced Roar. “There’s got to be something in it, though. Why else would she have taken Leda?”
Roar shook his head. “I don’t know. She did seem anxious when I mentioned that Leda was in surgery.”
“You should have seen her face when she flew into sick bay. I thought she was going to faint from the sight.”
Roar didn’t want to picture Leda, lying there, her body opened up. And I wasn’t there for her. “What did she say?”
“Not much. Mostly ‘do as I say or I’ll hurt you’ stuff. Is there a security section that carries surveillance of all main areas of the ship?”
There was. Roar could have kicked himself. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Arne was already headed for the door. “Let’s go over everything together. Two heads are better than one.”
Arne looked how Roar felt: dejected. They’d spent several days poring over video logs in the hopes of finding some scrap of a hint about the woman who took Leda. So far, all they’d managed was her name—Tuva—and that her henchmen seemed loyal.
Something floated by Roar’s head. He blinked, thinking he’d been up for too long and was seeing things. Then another flash of bright, pale blue drifted into his line of vision.
“You should get some rest,” Arne said as he leaned back in his seat.
Roar nodded and wiped the grit from his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He was still unsure if he’d seen something or if his mind was playing tricks on him. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he scanned the room, squinting his eyes, as though it might help. Nothing.
Arne stretched out in his chair. “Something tells me you’re not going to sleep any time soon.”
“I don’t think I could sleep.”
“Me, either, but we’ve got to rest up if we’re going to be any use. I think I’ll grab something to eat, then crash. What are you going to do?”
Roar wasn’t sure, but he had to do something. “Food,” he said. “Then, I don’t know.”
Hours later, Oline stepped onto the bridge and sent Nils to check on Petrus. Roar knew what was coming. She’d stopped by security while he and Arne were scouring the video logs, and she’d pulled Roar aside for a minute. He’d held his anger in check as she spoke, but when she finished, Roar had punched the wall next to her head and stormed back inside security, locking the door from the inside. Since then he hadn’t answered her comms or summons.
Now, he purposely avoided her by making it seem like he was too deep in scans and system checks to notice her. But Oline didn’t buy the act.
“We need to discuss something.”
Roar firmed his lips, his fingers working furiously on the panel.
“I’m talking to you.”
“Kind of busy here,” he murmured.
“Have you given any thought to what I mentioned the other day?”
“I’m still kind of hoping you were kidding about that.” Sparing the screen a brief glance, he spun the chair to face Oline and treated her with a hot glare. In her hands she held two tablets, and he cursed himself for forgetting. They were supposed to be going over the remnants of a virus Oline had discovered skulking in their systems. She’d dated it back to the day of Leda’s abduction.
“I wasn’t kidding.” She passed him a tablet.
Clutching the tablet in one hand, Roar stood and moved to the main viewscreen. At a flick of a button on his comm, he brought up the outside and stared at the nebula on the starboard side of Equinox, vibrant rainbow hues stretching as far as he could see. He couldn’t just leave. What if, somehow, Leda got away and came looking for them?
But what are the chances of that, really? Slim. They’d long since left the position Leda was taken from, and even if she somehow managed to memorize those coordinates, they were useless now. Tracking a ship in unknown space was difficult enough for the best navigators—pretty much all space was unknown to Leda.
Oline wanted to head back to Aurelis. Abandon Leda and Stein to whatever fate they faced. Deep down, Roar knew it was the right thing to do, but returning home without the weapon meant they’d lost. He shook his head. Going back meant giving up on Leda, and he wasn’t there yet. He had to see her, at least once more. Most importantly, he had to tell her how he felt about her.
Roar chewed the inside of his cheek and braced his hands on the table. “Why can’t you just give me more time? What if Leda’s out there right now, trying to get back to Equinox?”
Oline sat in front of one tablet and traced a finger down the side. “I can get the last of this virus figured out and cleaned from the ship in a week, tops.”
A week. Seven days. Better than nothing, and in that time, he might also be able to come up with a plan. Splitting up the crew was mutiny, but he wasn’t about to abandon Leda. “You’re breaking the news to her family though.”
“I know.” She paused. “I’m sorry, Roar. About Leda. But we can’t abandon Aurelis for one person. Even if she is the weapon.”
“I know.” He turned to the window again. “Doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.”
Oline came and stood next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong. Resourceful.”
But is she resourceful enough to find Equinox after we’re gone?
“Maybe she’ll find her way there somehow.”
“Maybe.” He couldn’t keep hypothesizing. “Do you need my help tonight?” Roar hoped she’d say no. Just the thought of sitting in the same room as her made his skin itch.
Oline took her seat again. “I can manage. You look like you could use some sleep.”
The draught Nils had given him earlier was wearing off. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“I’d rather call on Petrus. Give him something to do instead of moping around.”
Roar frowned at her thoughtlessness, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Don’t give him a hard time. We don’t know what he’s dealing with.”
Oline snorted. “If you think that, you’re blind.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s so obvious. Think about it, Roar. Before that woman showed up and took Leda, Petrus was fine. Well, fine for him. And now?”
Anger burned in his chest. “Are you saying Petrus and Leda…?”
“No, you idiot. Who else is missing?”
Stein. “You don’t think—”
“They knew each other before this mission? I’m pretty sure they did. In what capacity, I can’t be certain, but all the signs are there.”
Roar’s mind flashed back to the scene in the shuttle above Earth when Stein was drunk, and Petrus gave him hell. Roar shook his head. “I must not be good at reading signs.”
Oline laughed at him. “I’ve known you for a long time. Yeah, you’re bad at reading signs, even when they have blinking lights and are right against your noses. Like Leda.”
“Come on, how was I supposed to know she was the weapon—”
“I’m not talking about her being the weapon. No one knew that. I’m talking about the way she looks at you.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
But even if she did feel like that, he’d seen her pull away. He’d tried to live for a purpose beyond finding the weapon and look what had happened. He’d not only lost his heart, he’d lost her.
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, took his tablet, and headed for his room. He wasn’t sure what Oline meant, and right now, he didn’t have the heart to dive into another line of mental inquiry. The few storms inside his head were enough to deal with.
He had seven days to find Leda and come up with an alternate plan, and he couldn’t do it half dead from exhaustion. But he lay awake and stared at the ceiling. He knew what he had to do. They’d tell him he was foolish, that it would likely get him killed. But if he managed to get Leda back and finished the original plan, none of that mattered—
Someone banged on his door.
Roar groaned as he rolled from the bed and went to the door. The hammering on his door grew louder and more insistent. He didn’t bother checking to see who was there. Only one person on Equinox could knock constantly and with that much force. Leda had tried, but her knock had been more annoying than forceful.
A fraction of a second after the door opened, Arne barged into the room. He paced, one hand stuffed in his beard, the other in a fist at his side. Anger rolled off him like solar flares. He stormed an ellipse once, twice. Then he faced Roar, bright fury in his eyes.
“You’d leave her on her own. Out here.”
Roar scraped a palm down his jaw. “Oline told you.”
“You’re damned right, she told me! How can you sleep, knowing you’re planning on abandoning my niece?”
“I’m not abandoning anyone.” Roar went to the open door and checked the hall, making sure no one was lurking. He backed into his room and hit the lock to ensure they were alone. “I have a plan, okay? I spent all night coming up with it, and when this is all over, I’ll be labeled a traitor, but for Leda, it’s worth it.”
Arne paused, absorbing this new information. “You’re not leaving her?”
“No way in hell.” Roar squeezed his fists tight. The nails bit into his palms. “But I’ll need a little help—”
Arne cut him off. “Whatever it is, count me in. Tell me what we’re going to do.”
“Listen, no. This is something I have to do on my—”
“You’re going to count me in. And in return, I’m going to tell you the truth about why you can’t be with Leda.”