Blastaway

by Melissa Landers

  These were the mutants who would decide my fate. I’d thought there would be more of them. Fear brought me to a halt. The tall guy corrected that by nudging me into the room and shutting the doors behind us.

  The blue-haired woman indicated a chair on my side of the table. “Figerella,” she greeted me warmly. “Please have a seat.”

  Her smile threw me off, making me wonder what she was up to. I was too nervous to sit down, so I stayed on my feet and gripped the back of a leather chair. “I’d rather stand,” I told her. “If that’s okay,” I said to the giant behind me. I didn’t want to give him a reason to start shoving me around again.

  The guy grumbled under his breath, but he didn’t object. He walked around to the other side of the table and took a seat next to the blue-haired woman.

  “I’m Hazel,” she said. She touched the elderly man’s shoulder. “On my left is Billaby, and the tall gentleman to my right is Clarence.”

  Gentleman? I thought. That’s a stretch.

  “We make up a small part of the Council,” she continued. “I apologize that the rest of the group couldn’t be here. Great things are happening on Earth, so there are many meetings to attend. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Uh-huh.” I understood that part. What I didn’t get was why Hazel was being so nice to me. What game was she playing?

  The old man, Billaby, spoke up. “Young lady, we want to begin by commending you for your bravery. You’re a credit to us all. If it weren’t for your heroic actions last night—”

  “Just stop,” I interrupted. All of this politeness was weirding me out. “You don’t have to pretend to care. Can we just cut to the trial and get it over with?”

  Billaby scrunched his nose. “The trial?”

  “Yeah,” I said before I lost my nerve. “Dragging it out will only make it worse. If you’re going to convict me and hand down some twisted sentence, just do it already.”

  Billaby traded a confused look with Hazel, who shrugged. She tilted her head at me. “Why do you think we asked to meet with you today, Figerella?”

  Asked to meet with me? I couldn’t help snorting at the way she phrased it. “You didn’t ask anything. You chased me down like a dog until I had nowhere else to run. Then you held me prisoner on this yacht.”

  “What?” Hazel drew back. “We did no such thing.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Because you don’t have a travel visa,” she said. “You can’t visit Earth without one. In the meantime, where else are you going to sleep? In space?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. She had a point there. “But you fired at my ship,” I reminded her.

  At that, Hazel cut her eyes at Clarence. “I told you that was a bad idea.”

  He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I was trying to get their attention. They wouldn’t answer our calls. What else was I supposed to do?”

  Hazel gave me an apologetic grin. “He has poor social skills.”

  “Then don’t put me in charge of the comms,” he muttered.

  I shook my head again. “So you weren’t trying to catch me to put me on trial for stealing the Holyoakes’ core processor?” I quickly added, “Not that I’m admitting I did that. Just saying it as an example.”

  “No,” Hazel said. “When we saw the Whirlwind chasing the star, we assumed you were planning to divert it away from Earth, and we wanted to help.” She gestured beyond the yacht, toward deep space. “After we picked up you and Myler—”

  “Kyler,” I corrected, not that she noticed.

  “—we even tried to retrieve his family’s ship. I’m afraid there was no saving it, but we brought back their android.”

  “Cabe?” I asked, almost afraid to hope. “He’s still in one piece?”

  “Several pieces,” Clarence said. “But he should be repairable.”

  My chest filled with warmth. But at the same time, part of me warned that if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was. “Just to be clear,” I said, “you don’t put mutants on trial?”

  Hazel spread her arms at the men sitting on either side of her. “We couldn’t, even if we wanted to. There aren’t enough of us. We’re just a small committee that fights for better rights on Earth.”

  “And you don’t punish mutants by hobbling their fists?” I asked. “Or blinding them with eye drops?”

  Clarence drew back like he’d sucked a lemon. “That’s horrible!”

  “Heavens, girl,” Billaby said, coughing on his own spit. “We’re not monsters.”

  “Of course not,” Hazel told me. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  I opened my mouth to answer but fell silent as the pieces clicked into place. The Holyoakes had lied to me. They’d used the Council as a bogeyman, filling my head with nightmares to keep me in line. And I had fallen for it. I’d spent the last two years hiding from the only people who actually wanted to help me.

  “Never mind.” My cheeks heated. “Must have gotten my stories mixed up.”

  “The reason you’re here,” Hazel said, “is to talk about the next step in your life.”

  “The next step?”

  “Yes.” She folded her hands on top of the table. “You’ve been surviving alone, which, believe me, is admirable, but it’s not a healthy path for you, Figerella. We can’t let that continue. You’re a minor, and you need a legal guardian.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know how I felt about that. Part of me didn’t want to be alone anymore, but when I imagined living with people like the Holyoakes, being alone sounded way better.

  “You have plenty of options,” Hazel told me. “You’re a popular girl on Earth, as you can imagine. Offers have poured in from boarding schools, corporations, and so on. But what I’m most excited to tell you”—she leaned forward to give me a pointed look—“is that you might have an uncle.”

  “A what?” I asked.

  “I know this is a shock.” Hazel flashed a palm. “His name is Lavar Jammeslot. He says he’s your late father’s brother. Lavar told us that he and your father were estranged for years, but he’s been looking for you ever since your parents passed away.”

  “But my parents said they didn’t have any brothers or sisters. How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

  “We can’t run a DNA test until we have access to a lab,” Hazel admitted. “But he showed us some of your father’s personal articles, things a stranger wouldn’t have. I know it’s not proof, but I can’t see a reason for him to lie about this. Of course we’ll verify everything as soon as we can. He doesn’t want to pressure you, but he wants very much to be your guardian. In fact, he came here to meet you.”

  By reflex, I checked over both of my shoulders.

  “Not here in this room,” Hazel said with a grin. “We gave him one of the suites on the third floor. I’ll introduce you to him when you’re ready.”

  “Wow.” I scratched the back of my neck and tried to process what I’d learned. “An uncle. I can’t believe—”

  Suddenly, the doors burst open, and a voice called, “Stop!”

  I spun around to find Kyler standing at the front of the conference room with his hands on his hips like some sort of superhero. Two of his brothers, Duke and Bonner, stood beside him on the right, and the twins, Rylan and Devin, flanked his left side. All of them folded their arms and puffed out their chests as if they’d come here to do battle…or challenge the Council to a dance-off.

  “You,” Clarence growled at Kyler.

  Ky glared at him as if to say We meet again.

  “I sent you home,” Clarence said.

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Ky lifted his chin. “I’ve battled pirates, taken down a star barge, uncovered a conspiracy, and saved the world. I’ve got skills.”

  “All right,” Hazel said, sounding just as confused as I was. “We can all agree that you have skills. But why are you here, Myler?”

  “Kyler,” he corrected. “And I’m here to present critical information t
hat I guarantee will change the outcome of this trial.”

  Billaby threw up his wrinkled hands. “Why does everyone think we’re running a court in here?”

  Ky paused and looked to me for an explanation.

  “There’s no trial,” I whispered. “Long story.”

  “Oh.” Kyler gave the Council a sideways glance. “You’re not trying to convict Fig for stealing the Holyoakes’ shuttle?”

  “Whoa, there.” I lifted a finger. “Borrowing without permission. Not stealing.”

  Hazel pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. For the tenth time, we don’t do that sort of thing.”

  “Then why—”

  “We’re here to discuss Miss Jammeslot’s custody arrangements,” she snapped. “If you’ll give us some privacy.”

  Kyler formed a huddle with his brothers. They exchanged a few whispers, and then he asked the Council, “Actually, would you mind giving us some privacy? We want to talk to Fig about something important.”

  Hazel rolled her eyes before looking to me for approval.

  “It’s all right,” I told her. “I’ll make it quick.”

  The three council members filed out of the room, and to my surprise, Kyler’s mom and dad walked inside. I didn’t know why I was so shocked to see them—obviously someone had to have flown Kyler and his brothers to the yacht—but I hadn’t expected this, and I found myself backing away toward the rear of the room.

  With the extra space between us, I took a moment to study Ky’s family.

  His brothers looked slightly different than they had on-screen. Duke was even bigger in real life, a mountain of a boy with biceps big enough to crack walnuts, but with an easy posture that made him seem like a gentle giant instead of a bully. Rylan and Devin watched me with a curious intensity that hinted Kyler wasn’t the only genius in the family. As for Bonner, the youngest, there was a sparkle in his eyes that couldn’t be captured on camera.…It told me he was trouble on two legs, but in a fun sort of way. I wanted to ask what would happen if I pulled his finger, but the timing felt wrong. Instead, I waved a shaky hand at the boys, and they waved back.

  Mr. Centaurus stood at the head of the conference table with one arm wrapped around his wife. He unleashed a brilliant smile that drew out a pair of dimples in his cheeks. I liked him at once. Beside him, Mrs. Centaurus pressed a hand over her heart and peered at me with the same watery gaze she had given Kyler during their call. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but she seemed too choked up to get the words out.

  “Figerella,” said Mr. Centaurus. He left his wife’s side and strode to meet me where I was still frozen at the rear wall. “I’m Frank.” He thumbed behind him. “And that’s my wife, Ronalda, or Ronnie for short.”

  His hand was warm when he shook mine, and he brought with him the scents of peppermint gum and spicy cologne. I cleared my throat and told him, “Nice to meet you. You can call me Fig…” I shifted on my feet. “If you want to.”

  “Fig,” he repeated with a grin. “I feel like I already know you from everything Kyler’s told us about your adventures.” He pressed another hand atop mine. “We’re so grateful to you, Fig. I can’t express how much.” Squeezing my fingers, he added, “And I’m amazed by your skills with a laser. You probably don’t know this, but I started a charity to clear asteroid fields from underprivileged worlds. I could use a sharpshooter like you on our team. In fact, I have a question to ask you.…”

  “Yo, Dad,” Bonner called, waving him over. “There’s a call for you in the pilothouse. I think it’s that lawyer guy on Earth.”

  Frank held up an index finger for me. “Hold that thought, Fig. I’ll be right back.”

  As he left the room, Mrs. Centaurus closed the distance between us in slow, easy steps, as if she knew how nervous I was. When she reached me, she leaned down until we were eye level, so close that I could smell her lavender face cream. The scent caught me off guard, because it was different on her skin—warmer and sweeter, as though she brought out something special in the perfume. Until that moment, I’d forgotten it was like that with my mother—not the same scent, but a unique blend of lavender with her own fragrance. My heart ached because I knew I would never smell it again. But strangely, it comforted me to breathe in Ronnie’s fragrance. She reminded me of the best parts of my mother, even though no one could take her place.

  “Thank you,” Ronnie said. She spoke softly, so that only I could hear, making it seem like we were having our own private conversation away from the boys. Maybe it was silly, but that made me feel special.

  “Thank you for what?” I asked, the heat rising in my cheeks.

  “For the message you sent me from the Whirlwind,” she whispered. “The one telling me Kyler was all right.” Her smile brimmed over with warmth that welled in her eyes. My own eyes blurred in response. “I was confused at first because the words didn’t sound like him. Then when I saw you on the video transmission, it all made sense. I knew it was you.”

  I glanced at the floor. “It was no big deal.”

  “Oh, honey,” she said, using two fingers to tip up my chin. “It was everything.”

  Tears spilled down my cheeks. She wiped them away with her thumb, but her soft touch only brought more tears to the surface. Soon my face was a waterfall, and she quit trying to dry the flow. It embarrassed me, losing control like that. I couldn’t look at her, or at anyone else in the room. All I could do was sniffle and hope the boys weren’t watching.

  “You gave me a gift,” she told me. “A gift that let me breathe for the first time in days, and I’m betting nobody asked you to do it. Am I right?”

  I nodded.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said. “Do you know what that says about you?”

  Now she had my full attention. I wanted to know what my fake message said about me. So I focused on her eyes, even though it was like trying to stare at the sun. “What does it say?”

  “That you’re a compassionate and selfless young lady.” She smoothed both hands over my tangled hair and added, “Your parents would be so proud of you.”

  That was too much.

  My breathing hitched, and pressure wound so tightly behind my eyes that I got an instant headache. A jumble of emotions that I didn’t understand rose up inside me, stealing words from my mind. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but all I could do was gape like a fish out of water. I felt like I was choking on lavender, so I backed away until I could breathe again, and then I headed for the doorway and did what I did best.

  I ran away.

  I didn’t stop until I reached my room on the third floor, where I slammed the door and threw myself onto the bed. I was so blinded by tears that I didn’t realize I had company until a rustling sound drew my attention to the shadowy corner, and I gasped, sitting bolt upright as a man stepped forward.

  The first thing I noticed was the name badge tacked to his shirt. It read Guest of the Council: Lavar Jammeslot. When I glanced at the man’s face, my heart crashed, because I recognized the downward slashes of his mutation birthmarks. In that moment, I knew I didn’t have an uncle. I didn’t have anyone at all.

  I was alone…worse than alone.

  “Figerella Moonbeam,” Captain Holyoake said as he pulled a coil of rope from his pocket. “I’ve come to take you home.”

  I knocked on Fig’s door, but she didn’t answer. Tilting an ear, I listened for noise coming from inside. “Nothing,” I said to the Wanderer lady with the blue hair. I stepped out of her way and jerked a thumb at the door. “You should unlock it.”

  She puckered her mouth while she studied me and my brothers. I could tell she didn’t know what to think of us, not that I blamed her. Five boys asking to invade a girl’s bedroom sounded sketch. The fact that we’d left our parents in the pilothouse didn’t help.

  The lady bit her lip. “Maybe there’s a reason Figerella’s not answering.”

  “Yeah,” Duke said. “Like she ate some bad food.”

&nb
sp; “And now she’s passed out on the bathroom floor,” Bonner added.

  “Sick as a dog,” Rylan continued.

  “Choking on her own vomit!” Devin cried. “My God, woman! She could be dying in there!”

  I hid a grin. My brothers were good.

  “Okay, okay,” the blue-haired lady said. “Wait here. I’ll go in first.”

  She entered the key code, and the door slid open. A glance inside showed me nothing but darkness. I stood in the doorway and watched the woman turn on the lights and walk through the empty room. She peeked in the bathroom and shook her head.

  Fig wasn’t there.

  “Huh,” I muttered. “I wonder where she went. She couldn’t have gone far. I mean, it’s a big yacht, but not that big.” I’d just begun to suggest checking the kitchen when a strange smell crossed my nose, and I inhaled again. I sniffed a few more times and noticed the smell growing stronger inside Fig’s room. “Do you smell that?” I asked my brothers.

  Bonner held up both hands. “Dude, it wasn’t me.”

  “Not that,” I said. “Something musky, like a vegetable.”

  Duke raised his nose in the air. “Garlic?”

  “Scallions?” guessed Devin.

  Rylan sniffed. “Chives?”

  My stomach dropped. No. It was onions.

  All of a sudden I knew what had happened to Fig.

  “We have to get to the hangar,” I told my brothers. “And fast.”

  The fact that I could still smell onions gave me hope, because it meant the person who’d eaten them had just been there moments ago. But there was no time to waste. I led the way out the door and jogged toward the stairwell, calling over my shoulder, “Follow me. We’ll grab our supplies on the way.”

  I dug in my heels, but it was no use. The soles of my boots skidded across the hangar floor as the captain dragged me to his shuttle. He opened the passenger door and shoved me into the seat. With my wrists bound behind my back, I couldn’t stop him from fastening my safety harness and trapping me in place. I bucked forward, straining and grunting, but I was powerless to move more than a few inches in any direction.