Chapter Twenty-Four
“What do you mean we can’t be together?”
Roar tried pushing his thoughts in the right direction. The small science ship Elder Æthelric had parked in an aft cargo bay on Equinox for emergencies was Roar’s saving grace. There was enough space on the ship for everyone he planned on taking with him, including Nils’s mother. Thankfully her pod didn’t take up much space.
He had to stop thinking about his conversation with Arne and Rika. Maybe they thought telling him now was the right thing, like it would help him somehow, instead of messing with his head.
Arne brings Roar to the lab where Rika stands hunched over a tablet on a lab table. He pulls her tablet away. “I need you to show him.”
“But you told me—”
“I know. But he has to see. Show him the blood.”
Roar had invited too many unknown variables into the fray. Arne and Inger he could trust without question. The Woede had displaced Leda’s grandmother from her home, and almost took her family from her, and Arne wanted to see his ancestral world put to rights. Nils seemed to be on board, too.
Rika was the wild card. The human. Granted, her medical training made her invaluable on Equinox, but what else could she bring to the table? And five was a big number when working in all the possible outcomes.
Except the one outcome he’d never considered played on loop in his head.
Rika places a drop of silver blood into a petri dish, then takes a drop of blood from a second vial.
“You’ll have to stand back,” she tells Roar.
“What are you talking about?”
Arne touches his shoulder. “It’s better if you see.”
Rika adds the second blood to the first. Almost instantly, it bubbles, fizzles, burns, and turns bright—like a star about to burst. He ought to look away, but he doesn’t. He has to see…
The light fades, and when his vision clears, he sees that the blood has turned from silver to black.
After checking that Explorer was indeed operational, Roar brought Arne and Frue Sørensen down to see it. He felt as nervous as a child, showing off this tiny ship with dated tech. Arne just nodded his head and squeezed Roar’s shoulder. It gave Roar no comfort. Not after what he’d seen.
Roar turned back to the ship. “So it’ll work?”
Arne moved next to him. “It’s perfect. I’m sure we can borrow some things from Equinox and no one will be the wiser.”
“I hope you’re right,” Roar mumbled.
He has to ask. Part of him already knows the answer, but he needs to hear Arne say the words.
“Whose blood is that?”
“Leda’s,” Arne says. After a moment, he adds, “And yours.”
As the departure date neared, Roar and the others gathered supplies and hoarded what little tech they could sneak out from under Oline’s nose. He hadn’t seen much of Petrus, except at mealtimes, and even then, sometimes Petrus didn’t show up. Like tonight. Everyone onboard Equinox had gathered for supper, except Petrus. Roar spooned the vegetable stew, studded with spices Leda had brought along and never got the chance to use, into his mouth until the bowl was empty. Then he grabbed a second bowl, filled and covered, a spoon, packed a few rolls in a bag, and carried the meal to Petrus’s cabin.
After several knocks, Roar tried Petrus on his comm. He thought about using the tracker system to locate Petrus, but his friend probably wanted some privacy. Roar left the covered bowl and rolls outside Petrus’s cabin, and he decided to spend the next few hours prepping for the eventual split from Equinox.
Petrus caught him sneaking down a rear access tunnel with a bag of tech and refurbished comms. He cleared his throat behind Roar, who paused a second, then turned to face his fate. Petrus had shut the hatch and stood in front of it, blocking the only exit aside from the other end, which led to the Explorer.
Roar straightened his spine as Petrus crossed his arms. Though a few inches shorter than Roar, and built smaller, Petrus was no slouch. Roar knew from sparring with him that Petrus moved like a cobra and packed one hell of a punch. An image of the pair, Roar with a black eye while Petrus grinned, still lived on Roar’s night table.
After a long moment of hard staring, Petrus dropped his arms and signed: “I understand you plan on leaving Equinox.”
Though Roar knew Petrus had sussed him out, it didn’t make the statement sting any less. “I am.” Roar snapped his mouth shut. No point in giving away all the details. “How did you find out?”
Petrus worked his fingers: “Arne told me. He wondered why I didn’t know about the plan.”
Roar squeezed his hands into fists. Caught like an amateur. His fury cast a red haze in the room, but he forced himself to be still. Deal with the anger later. Petrus glared at Roar like he was trying to decide where to hit him first.
After a long moment, Roar let out a breath. “It takes two, at least, to crew Equinox. If Oline shows up in Aurelite air space with a Woede, they’ll sacrifice him to save their own skins. I know that’s what we said was the plan if it came down to it, but I just can’t do it.” Leda would never forgive him. If he ever found her.
Petrus nodded, looking thoughtful. “And none of the others know the systems well enough to stay behind.”
“Exactly.” Roar dropped his gaze. “I wish you could come with me.” He peered under his lashes at his friend.
“Me, too.” They were both silent for a long stretch, avoiding eye contact. Then Petrus signed: “Listen. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Roar lowered his voice when he spoke next. “I don’t care what you think about Leda. Whatever your issue with her, keep it to yourself.”
The last thing he needed was yet another person reminding him why they couldn’t be together.
“I don’t have an issue with her, Roar. It’s the way you feel about each other…” He squeezed his eyes shut, like he was in pain. “It’s not about her.”
“Does it have to do with Stein?”
A flicker of surprise flashed in Petrus’s eyes. He pushed a stray lock of hair off his brow, then worked his fingers. “What do you know?”
“Nothing,” Roar answered honestly. “He’s missing and you’re—well, you’re moping around, Petrus. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you guys had known each other a lot longer than you and I have. But I don’t think that’s the case.”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”
“Hell, I don’t even know what’s going on. That woman on the other ship called Stein ‘Sofia’ and said he was Brage Enersen’s daughter. Which, I can’t even wrap my head around, though I do see some similarities. But how am I supposed to convince you whatever you’re worried about doesn’t bother me if I don’t all the facts?”
Petrus stared at him, dazed. “Are you saying that you don’t care if I’m…?” His hands stilled.
Roar grabbed Petrus’s right hand in his hand and made a fist. “I wouldn’t care if you wanted to turn yourself into an amoeba, Petrus. You’re my brother. You’re all I’ve got.”
After he said the words, Roar looked down out of habit. He wasn’t used to talking about emotions. The Elders were strict when it came to frivolous topics, and feelings were among the top five things to avoid.
Petrus worked his fingers. “You’d better get those supplies onboard Explorer.”
Shock stilled his muscles. “You’re not going to rat us out to Oline?”
“No. I happen to agree with you. But I want a promise, Roar.”
“Anything.”
“If you can’t find her, you’ll go straight home.”
“After how long?”
Petrus shut his eyes, a long, slow, blink. When he opened them again, Roar knew he thought Stein was on that ship with Leda, and leaving Leda behind meant leaving Stein behind. “One Universal month,” he answered. “After that, go to Aurelis. Once the Woede have been taken care of, we can both go looking for them. Together. I promise.” He held out a hand to seal the deal.
Since Petrus never broke his promises, Roar accepted his friend’s hand and shook on it. “We will find them,” Roar said, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.
He didn’t admit that though—everyone knew if they didn’t find Leda, Aurelis was so screwed.
Huddled in a chair on a space shuttle wasn’t a good position for sleep. Leda tried. And tried. But she couldn’t get past the “drifting off” stage.
A few feet away, Stein lay sprawled in his chair with his boots up on the wall. How did he sleep like that?
Her butt had gone numb a while ago. Not a good sign. She shifted in her seat, for all the good it did. A little exercise would definitely help bring the feeling back, but she’d gone way past tired and dropped straight into exhaustion. When was the last time she’d had a really good night’s sleep?
Before she met Roar. Before she moved to Norway. Before Dad died.
When will things be…normal again?
Or was this the new normal? Spaceships and stun guns and evil alien overlords. Her life had become a video game. That reminded her of Nils. Was he okay? She leaned back and shut her eyes, thinking of everyone back on Equinox—
A shrill alarm pierced the silence. What the…?
She jumped up and grabbed the RomTek suit she’d discarded earlier. Getting the thing on took much less time now that she’d suited up a few times now. Stein beat her, though. She reached his side just as the viewscreen flashed to life and revealed a ship. Boxy and black and surrounded by several smaller vessels of similar build. She hadn’t seen any ships like these. Were they friendly? Or not so friendly?
Sensors in her suit blared another warning. Leda pulled up the info screen in her helmet just as the biggest ship opened fire. She felt the blast through the shuttle’s stabilizers, and the ones in her suit.
So they’re not friendly.
Stein cursed. “It’s a Woede convoy. A couple of cargo ships.” He tried some fancy maneuvers to avoid the next rally.
“Maybe I’m mistaken, but aren’t cargo ships supposed to be neutral or something?”
“Not if they’re Woede. Wait a minute. Are you seeing this?” He pointed to the screen. “They’re leaving. They fired at us, and now they’re leaving.”
He barely finished the sentence when something hit the shuttle so hard the metal groaned and vibrated. The floor rolled sideways under her feet, and the gravity flickered a moment before evening out, slamming Leda into the door.
“Careful,” Stein said unnecessarily. “You should strap in.”
As the suit helped Leda right herself, she scowled at the back of Stein’s head. But no sooner was she on her feet, Leda hustled to the nearest chair and strapped her harness on. She glanced at tactical, wondering if she should try to figure things out here while Stein piloted the ship.
How hard can it be?
The floor rattled with another volley of fire from the Woede ship.
Stein pulled up radar. “They didn’t all leave.”
Focusing on the screen, Leda hit the buttons for her gloves to retract, removed her helmet, and pulled up the manual for tactical. A quick read through told her the basics. The station worked much the same as any video game she’d played. Lock onto a target, aim, and fire.
She tried for a small dart-like ship first and got a direct hit. Who says video games can’t save your life?
“Nice one!” Stein jerked in the pilot’s chair as he dodged incoming fire.
Leda’s stomach gave a little jolt with the ship. “Not too shabby yourself.”
He laughed. “Maybe we’ll make it out of this alive after all.”
She made several more hits, narrowly missing one before correcting the aim and firing again. Then the shuttle shook like it had just been spat out of a volcano. Leda’s head crashed into the screen. A warm trickle dripped from her temple.
“Boarding pod,” Stein said with a scowl. “Get your helmet on.”
He didn’t need to tell her twice. She’d never done anything so quickly in her life. From a utility pocket on the suit, Leda took the small oval-shaped coin and tapped it twice. When it was fully grown, she shoved the helmet on and blinked through the neural link hook-up. Into the mic, she said, “What’s a boarding pod?”
Stein adjusted their trajectory with a shove of his palm into the jelly pad of his armrest. On the screen, the Woede missile veered off course and hit one of the darts. “A boarding pod is filled with Woede infiltrators. Slimy little suckers attach themselves to the brains of the shuttle—or ship, or whatever—and take over. They’ll cut off life support, kill everyone inside, and feed on the bodies.”
Leda shuddered as the images filtered in her mind. “Are they easy to kill?”
“Fortunately. The Woede didn’t spend too much time or money on the suckers since they breed like toukiin and are easily contented.”
A dart veered to one side, aiming for the shuttle. Leda headed them off with rapid succession fire. The remains of the dart scattered on the radar. “What’s a toukiin?”
“Uh, the best explanation I can come up with is, they’re kind of like your maggots.”
“Oh.” Gross.
The boarding pod’s pounding vibrated through the entire shuttle now, the squeal of ripping metal like a scream inside Leda’s head. The hull breached with a roar that made the speakers in Leda’s helmet whine, and the shuttle rocked as the boarding pod punched the newly cut chunk of shuttle door. An audible pop came next, the vacuum seal between the two ships mixing. A slithering black snake wiggled through the hole.
They were in.
Leda jumped back, her thighs bumping the chair at tactical, and reached for the gun at her hip. Just as Stein showed her during the journey out here, she hit the switch to charge the plasma, and the weapon whistled to life in seconds. For a second, Leda doubted her ability to use the gun in real life. Video games were one thing, and this was another.
Don’t freak out!
Though her nerves were shot and her body ached from sleeping in a chair, Leda steadied her thoughts. A deep, cleansing breath later, she popped her neck. She took aim at the gaping hole, filled with greasy tentacles, and fired. The first offensive broke in a splatter of black slime and high-pitched screeches. Leda shoved her hands to her ears, but the helmet was in the way.
“Stay back!” Stein called. “Don’t let them touch your suit.”
Leda got behind Stein as he continued where she’d left off, sending wave after wave of Woede creatures into a screaming panic. The plasma exploded on contact. They flailed and sprayed and fell to the floor. Leda raised her weapon and took aim once more. A metallic screech filled her ears, but she ignored it, and kept firing. Soon the creatures stopped coming and the floor was a black river of goo around her feet.
Adrenalin pounded in her veins. Leda turned to Stein and saw him leaning on the pilot’s chair for support. For the first time, she realized he was just as shaken. The bravado, the prickly exterior, they were masks. When it all came down to the wire, she and Stein were the same.
She glanced back at the hole in the shuttle. Part of her expected another round of those things to come through. “Is it over?”
Hearing her voice shook Stein from his stupor. “I don’t know. I mean, I studied all of this in the comfort of my father’s mansions. I still can’t believe…”
Shock. He was in shock. Leda danced around the carcasses on the floor to Stein’s side. When she reached him, she shoved him into the co-pilot’s chair and strapped him in. At first he struggled, but in the suit, Leda was just as strong as him. She held down his arms and pressed her visor close to his, forcing him to be still. He seemed a little calmer then. She whispered soothing words through the mic, making eye contact with him.
Keep it together, Stein, because I can’t do this on my own.
Stein nodded, as if he could hear her thoughts.
After a minute, she eased up and stood, keeping her eyes on him. “You gonna be all right?”
“Yeah.” He looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry about that.”
“It could have been me who lost it.”
“But it wasn’t,” he said. “I thought getting the change would give me some kind of-of, I don’t know. I’m still weak.” He sighed, the sound full of regret and defeat.
“I don’t know what you mean about ‘the change,’ but you’re not weak, Stein. You’ve been like a rock through this whole thing, keeping me in one piece.” She pointed to the hole in the shuttle wall. “I didn’t do that. You did. If it weren’t for your awesome shot and quick thinking, we’d be the main course for a bunch of space octopuses.”
Through the visor, Leda saw him crack a smile. A second later, he laughed. “Team effort?”
She nodded. “Team effort.”
“Maybe,” Stein began, but then he turned away.
She placed her hand over his on the armrest. “Maybe what?”
He sucked in a lungful of air. “Maybe if we make it through this, I can tell you everything. About me, I mean.”
She remembered Tuva calling Stein her and said something about the name Sofia back on the Chandra, and Leda wondered if the change Stein talked about had something to do with gender reassignment surgery. “I’d like that.”
After a few beats of silence, Stein unclipped his harness. “We should get those things off the shuttle and repair the door.”
Shock rendered her speechless for a moment. “How? They cut a hole clean through the wall.”
Stein’s eyes sparkled. “You’ll see. First things first, though, we’ve got to wipe up that mess and get them off the shuttle. If we leave it for too long, their blood will eat away at the floor.”
“Ew.” Leda cringed, wondering if it could eat through her suit. “What do we do?”
Stein got up and crossed the shuttle, careful not to step in the mess. He hit a panel and it popped open, revealing two tubes. One red, the other silver. He handed her the silver tube. “You spray, I’ll shovel.”
“What does it do?”
He gave her a sly grin. “You’re supposed to be a genius. Figure it out.”
Leda scowled. “I could always take off your helmet and whack you over the head with it.”
Stein opened his mouth to reply but Leda waved him off. Holding the silver tube up to her visor, Leda examined the outer surface and saw two small buttons. She held the tube away from her face and tested the upper button. A small nozzle popped out of the top of the tube and she jumped in surprise. Stein sniggered, but Leda ignored him and pressed the second button for a couple seconds. A fine mist sprayed out of the nozzle. When it touched the wall and came in contact with a splatter of the Woede creature’s blood, the mist instantly foamed and fizzed and fell to the floor with a thud.
With wide eyes, Leda knelt down to get a closer look. The foam had turned slightly solid. She flicked it with her finger. It now had the consistency of chewed gum in a cold climate.
“Cool, huh?”
“Yeah.” Leda stood, her mind whirring. When they got to Aurelis and stopped the Woede, there was an entire planet filled with technology like this, just waiting for her to explore it.
“Spray that on all the blood and guts,” Stein said. “When you’re done, I’ll shovel it up.”
Leda’s stomach lurched. “Thanks,” she said, her voice a little shaky.
After she sprayed the mist, she leaned on the pilot’s chair and watched Stein scoop the gum-like substance into the boarding pod. She used the opportunity to peer into the pod from her vantage point. It was black inside and all surfaces were covered with a layer of shiny slime. The tech seemed advanced but the controls were crude. Then again, an octopus didn’t exactly have the right features to use the kind of controls on, say, an Aurelite ship.
Stein shoveled the last of the creatures’ remains into the boarding pod and leaned on his shovel, his breathing heavy through the comm. “Now comes the tricky part,” Stein said. “Getting rid of the pod.”
Leda didn’t know if they’d manage that. “How?”
“We push.”
Leda glanced down at her legs, but then remembered the power behind the suit. “Are you sure this’ll work?”
“Always does.” He leaned against the pod and motioned for her to get into position. “On three, push as hard as you can.”
“Got it.” Leda pressed her hands on the pod wall and braced herself.
Stein began the count. When he got to three, they both pushed as hard as they could on the edges of the pod, where a thick black substance had fused to the shuttle’s hull. Sweat dripped into Leda’s eyes. Her muscles burned under the strain, and she put more of her weight into the push. The makeshift seam popped after a few seconds, and her suit flashed in warning as the shuttle’s atmosphere hissed out into the blackness. She gave a triumphant cry and pumped her fist.
Stein smirked. “A little premature. Now we have to remove the anchors.” He motioned to the hole, then crawled through.
Tension bunched and knotted in her stomach, but Leda followed him out into space. Stein explained that they had to yank the anchors off and showed her how to brace against the shuttle with her feet and wrap her arms around the anchor lines.
Panic bubbled in her throat. “What if we both fly out into space and can’t get back to the shuttle?”
“The suits have thrusters.”
Leda remembered the thrusters from when she and Roar had used the suits. “How do I activate them?”
“It’s all in the mind.” Stein was silent, then his thrusters fired, and he flew away from her. A second later, he was on his way back. “See? Now you try.”
After several tries, Leda managed to get the gist of how the thrusters worked. “I think I’m good.”
Stein nodded, his face obscured by lights and shadows. “On three again.”
It took a lot more force to yank the hooks from the hull. By the time Leda’s anchor snapped away, her body was drenched in perspiration and her arms felt like wet noodles. Stein took her anchor and shoved it inside the pod. Then he took something from his utility pocket and brought it up to his visor. It looked like a small grenade. Stein pulled a long pin from the top and tossed it inside the pod. Seconds later, the pod shot away at breakneck speed into the blackness of space.
From far away, Leda felt the blast wave, and she drifted backward into the shuttle with a soft thud. She blinked.
That’s it, they’re gone. For now.
Stein reached for her hand and helped her back inside the shuttle. Now the only signs of attack were the blast marks on the outside of the shuttle and the massive hole in the door and the missing piece of the puzzle lying on the floor.
How the hell were they going to fix that?
Stein drew her attention, kneeling on the floor by the cut-out door piece. “Let’s fit this in place.”
Leda grabbed one side and Stein the other, and after a few tries, they got the piece in the hole. As she wondered what they were going to do next, Stein floated to the middle of the hole and held the piece in place. He jerked his helmet to the right of the door, indicating a panel. Weightless, Leda drifted over and opened it up.
Through the comm, Stein said, “Hit the green button to deploy the patch.”
Leda pressed the button, and her eyes widened as a silvery blob snaked around the outer edges of the piece Stein held up, filling the cracks. It hardened instantly, forming a seal that locked out the vacuum of space. When the breach was sealed, she heard a hissing sound.
“Don’t take your helmet off until the shuttle’s fully pressurized,” Stein warned.
Leda wasn’t stupid enough to do that. Also, she smelled pretty rank, and she wasn’t looking forward to revealing that fact to anyone. She and Stein sat in the pilot and co-pilot’s chairs. A few minutes later, her suit’s sensors let her know the air was breathable again. But neither she nor Stein removed their helmets, intent on keeping a little distance as Stein took the shuttle away from the sight of attack.
They were alive, but shaken, and Leda’s mind raced. If the Woede could attack at the drop of a hat like that, and she hadn’t even faced one in person—other than Nils, of course—how was she supposed to destroy an entire planet of them?