Saskia rolled off the bed again, smashing her face against the stool as her legs collapsed beneath her.
“Saskia!” Danny cried, hooking his arms around her, resting her head on his shoulder, lowering her to the ground. Her face wasn’t bleeding, but it was red and sure to be bruised later.
“Help, Captain,” she choked. She wasn’t slurring the words, but she couldn’t get much volume either. “My legs. My legs.”
“Do they hurt?” he asked, shifting her legs so they weren’t bent, then checking for breaks. “Saskia, how can I help?”
“Tranq,” she panted, fighting the twitches.
“Saskia, you were resting just fine a moment ago,” Danny said. “I don’t want to—”
“Help. Tranq,” she said, moving her legs like she was walking, even though she was sitting on the floor.
“We’re not doing this,” he said, putting her back on the bed, this time using the gravity restraints to strap her legs and torso down. He left her arms free so she could undo the restraints if she found proper control of her body. She screeched then clamped a hand over her mouth, writhing and twitching as though fighting a demon within. Danny’s insides quivered and he thought he’d be sick. It was bad enough seeing Amanda go through fits, but at least in her case, there was a sound neurological reason. Saskia had been perfectly healthy an hour ago.
Relenting, he found the last of their tranquilizers and injected her with the full dose. “There you go,” he said. “That should be enough to get you home.”
“She’s here,” Saskia said, her eyes glazed with fear. “I see the ghost. Help, Captain. Help.”
“Relax. Don’t fight,” he said, stroking her arm, waiting for the tranquilizer to kick in. Finally, her head dropped to the pillow and her hands stilled.
“Thank you,” she whispered, switching to Lanvarian. It was weird for her to switch languages, but Danny was relieved that she was asleep. He tucked a blanket around her and attached a thermal strip to the mark on her face to keep it from swelling.
“Anyone on the bridge want to give me an update?” Danny called, tapping his Feather again.
“Tray’s cursing at the computer,” Amanda replied. He could hear fear in her voice, but it didn’t motivate him to action. It made him want to crawl into bed.
“On my way,” he said, whispering a plea for strength. “Sky, why’d the engine stop?”
“Damn machines took us hostage,” Sky replied. “Though I don’t know how. Unless they’ve been planning this from the start and sabotaged the repair.”
“Saskia had some kind of hallucination,” Danny said, heading up the forward ladder to the bridge. “It was weird. Scary.”
By the time he reached the bridge, he was winded. Tray argued with Nolwazi about the failure of the thrusters and the unchanging gravitational constant of the universe. Amanda curled in the pilot’s seat, knees to her chest, hands over her ears.
“Let’s diagnose this problem,” Danny whispered, squeezing her shoulders. “Come on. I need your eyes.”
“No you don’t,” she said. “You just say that so I’ll feel useful. I don’t need you to say things like that. I have a job. I fly the ship.”
“Yeah, you do,” he said, kissing the top of her head and sliding into the engineering station. If she wasn’t going to take his permission to be elsewhere, he wasn’t going to force it.
He called up the diagnostics from their last run, then frowned when he heard the bay door open.
“It’s Sky,” Amanda said, staring out the front window, tapping her head against the seat. “She doesn’t want to be trapped here.”
“Neither do I,” Tray interrupted. “Doesn’t mean I want to be out there with all those machines.”
“I screwed up, Danny. I couldn’t leave,” Amanda murmured, tension rippling through her body as the guilt washed over her.
“It’s not for lack of trying.” Tray slouched against the seat, lifting penitent brown eyes to look at Danny. “I tried.”
Danny tapped his Feather. “Sky, did the grav-drive not kick in for takeoff?” She’d promised him that the fuel consumption would be irrelevant if they spent the extra few days using avalan to redirect their grav-drive’s energy into thrust. Sky didn’t answer, and Danny figured she was kicking herself, or was clambering across the hull seeking answers. “How much fuel did we use?”
“The fuel sensor hasn’t worked since we landed,” Amanda reminded him. “I shut down the engines as soon as I realized something was wrong, but it wasn’t soon enough.”
“It’s gone. It’s all gone,” Tray murmured.
“Let’s check the fuel, and figure out what went wrong. We still have the grav-drive,” Danny suggested. His diagnostic equipment said everything was fine, but the sensors also said that their third auxiliary fuel tank was fine, and it was missing. “A few hours won’t hurt us.”
“Those drones might,” Tray muttered.
“The drones want us to stay,” Danny pointed out.
“Right,” Tray muttered. “You think they’ll let up in a few hours? Or days. Or weeks. Is Saskia well enough to help?”
“No. No, she’s not okay,” Danny said.
“Do you think it’s that sickness you two caught?” Tray asked.
“I hope not.” Danny shivered, feeling the new fear rise—the fear that he’d become as helpless as Saskia.
Sky felt the ship shudder as the bay door opened, and she ran from the engine room to see. Hawk wasn’t on the floor where she’d left him.
“Hawk!” she hollered, taking the stairs two at a time, drawing her grav-gun as she approached the ramp. “Hawk?”
“Up here,” he groaned, peeking over the side of his glider. It was his safe spot, and Sky smiled seeing him curled in the cockpit, his head resting on his flight jacket. She was glad he felt well enough to move that far.
“Hawk, why did you open the door?” Sky asked, holstering her weapon and climbing on the wing of the glider. “We can’t take off with the door open.”
“Tray said Oriana can’t leave,” Hawk said, squirming in his seat. “But Amanda said we have to get out of here. We have to get you out of here. That ghost nearly killed you. She sent the drones after us.”
“The drones aren’t firing anymore,” Sky observed, tapping her Virp to close the bay door. “I think they’re pretty confident we’re stuck. Maybe Liza stopped them to give us a chance to find the other survivors.”
“Sky, what about your Sequesterer?” Hawk asked, tugging her hand. He called the spirit she carried ‘Sequesterer’ because it kept her trapped. In his mind, he could see the prison around her. “It almost killed you when you faced Liza. What happens if we find others like her?”
“You saw it?” Sky asked, her interest piquing along with her fear.
“I saw teeth,” Hawk nodded. “Liza showed me the rest.”
Sky rubbed her neck, feeling the residual ache of Spirit’s attack. “Remember in Rocan, when I fell asleep in the bar?”
“Hard to forget,” Hawk said, ruefully rubbing the back of his head where he’d hit the corner of the table that day.
“When I woke up and realized that I’d been able to sleep, I thought I was free,” she reminded him, sitting on the lip of the cockpit, leaning across so that her face was closer to his.
“Free from your Sequesterer,” he recalled, putting out a hand to support her. “You kissed John, you were so happy. You made him blush like I’ve never seen before.”
Sky smiled at the memory of John’s warmth. “I’ve been thinking: maybe there is a way I can live separately from my Sequesterer. It had to be doing something before it started possessing humans and jumping from body to body.”
“Maybe getting free of it is as simple as letting the ghost take it away,” Hawk suggested, pointing out the bay door. “Then you can be free and grow old like you want. You and John can be together.”
“If I’m lucky,” she said, taking a breath and sliding onto the wing again. “What if this a
ppearance of health is all an illusion and when I’m separated from Spirit, it happens in an instant? I shrivel and die right then and there, and there is no future for me and John. I don’t want to die, Hawk. I don’t want to die!”
“Bébé,” Hawk said, crawling out of the glider and hugging her from behind. “The Drava knew how to test your age. Maybe they know more. Maybe we can control what will happen.”
“I’m afraid we burned that village. It’s too risky to ask around. It’s not safe to talk about spirit things,” Sky said, wiping the sweat from her lip.
“You’re talking to me right now,” Hawk pointed out.
“Because you’re a part of it,” Sky said, kicking herself. “Somehow, I know you’re connected to me.”
“Maybe I’m not,” Hawk said.
“Then why did I know you the instant I saw you?” Sky asked, her cheeks getting tight.
“Maybe you’re connected to me,” he said. “Maybe I can’t help you. Maybe it only goes the other way—you help me.”
Sky squeezed her eyes shut for a split second, releasing hot tears. She wiped them away quickly. “Ninety-seven years, three months, twelve days,” she whispered.
“Is that how old you are?” Hawk asked, rubbing his thumb over her cheek.
“That’s how long I’ve carried this spirit,” she said. “Before that, I was sixteen. I lived on a small farm with five younger siblings, twelve cousins. We grew leaf vegetables and grains, and our irrigation system was constantly breaking down. In the evenings, we took turns reading stories to each other.”
“Did the Sequesterer kill them?” Hawk asked quietly.
Sky shook her head. “A few cousins, yes. I left before it could kill my brothers and sisters.”
“You should leave here, too,” Hawk said, tugging her hand again to draw her into the glider. “You can’t risk getting trapped in Boone. The drones stopped firing. It’s time to run.”
“We’re not going to escape anything in the glider. The ‘sled,” Sky said, sucking in her cheeks. She took his flight jacket, and opened the bay door again so they could escape.
“Is it safe for me to go with you?” Hawk asked. “With the Sequesterer?”
He eased off the glider, moving slowly. Sky didn’t want to take him to Quin, but the only other doctors she knew could help him were either over the sea in Cordova or trapped in Boone. She guided his hand to the ladder on the Bobsled, and put a hand on his back as he climbed the first few steps.
“Stop!” Saskia stumbled from the hall on the lower deck, stunner in hand. “You can’t leave me!”
“Saskia?” Hawk said, freezing on the step. “Oh, no. It’s the ghost.”
“You see the ghost?” Sky asked, drawing her grav-gun again. “I see Saskia.”
Saskia’s eyes were so dilated, they looked black. She aimed her stunner at them, moving slowly, as though the air around her had turned to tar.
“The Sequesterer,” Hawk whispered. “Sky, get out of here!”
Saskia fired her stunner, but Hawk dove off the Bobsled’s ladder, taking the hit and crashing to the floor.
“Hay nah!” Sky swore. A drone zipped into the bay door, flying past Hawk, then firing at Saskia.
“Down!” Danny hollered, charging onto the catwalk, firing at the drone. The drone fired back and Danny tumbled down the stairs. Sky hurried onto the ‘sled, and closed the hatch, fearing taking off since she could already feel Spirit rising to choke her. She didn’t have to get far, but she had to get out of here!
15
Tray paced around the table in the ward room, scratching his skin, feeling creepy crawlies all over his sweat-soaked body. The solar panels had yet to take over air-cooling, and the fans were circulating hot air. “If we’re out of fuel, what are our options? Having the grav-drive supplement our engine is one thing, but to control it completely is something else.”
He’d forced a positive attitude that morning, praying they were nearing the end of their stay here, hoping a cheerful disposition would speed their work. The day wasn’t half over and had already taken a nosedive.
“Take the ‘sled,” Amanda suggested. She rested her chin on her knees and her eyes roamed about the room, like she was seeing physical manifestations of their options and dismissing them.
“Take it where?” Tray asked.
“Quin,” Amanda said. “I can see the rockets with my Occ; I think the ‘sled can make the distance.”
“We only managed to squeeze five people in because it was a life-or-death situation and a five minute journey. We wouldn’t all fit,” Tray said. “Besides, the ‘sled isn’t designed for long flights.”
“Sky took it all the way to Rocan,” Amanda argued.
“Sky crashed in Rocan,” Tray reminded her. “The ‘sled could barely role when we recovered it.”
“It beats living here forever,” she shrugged.
“Right. Right,” Tray agreed. He hated the idea of splitting up, but relished the thought of having a workable plan that brought Quin within reach. “Some of us can go ahead, and the rest of you… we’ll have to figure a way to keep you safe. With only the solar panels, you’ll have to conserve energy. And there’s that well for fresh drinking water. Probably food in the jungle.”
“What’s this us and you?” Amanda interrupted, dropping her knees and crossing her arms. “What makes you think you’re going in the first wave back to Quin?”
“Because I’m the one who has the status to requisition a rescue ship,” Tray said. He hadn’t thought about it, but Quin was his home, and he needed to see his son. Not to mention, he needed to reclaim his assets before he was declared dead and his estate divided. He needed to get back to Quin more than any of the others. “We should have been taking the ‘sled up every day trying to get a signal to Quin. That had to have been real, what Saskia recorded. Of course, the drones shot the big spaceship out of the sky. The ‘sled won’t be any safer.”
“You have four sharp-shooters on the crew. Chances are you’re going to leave one of us behind,” Amanda muttered, rolling her eyes. “I can shoot down any drones that—oh, no.”
She crawled over the conference table, then hurried onto the bridge, vaulting onto the forward console and pressing her face against the window.
“Don’t fall!” Tray cried, rushing after her, looping an arm around her waist, nearly falling himself when he saw the Bobsled race through a cloud of drones.
Smacking the Vring, Tray hailed the Bobsled. “Sky, please tell me you’re a mind reader, and you’ve enacted a plan to jet off to Quin and bring help to the rest of us.”
No response. Tray waved to Amanda. “Okay, sharp-shooter. Get down there and make sure she gets away safely.”
“Tray, help,” Danny’s gravelly voice came over the Vring. “Bobsled.”
“I saw. Danny, what happened?” Tray replied, hurrying down the stairs to the bay. There were three bodies on the ground, and Tray’s breath caught in his throat. Saskia was crumpled at the lower deck hatch, Hawk was in the middle of the floor where the Bobsled used to be, and Danny had collapsed by the middeck stairs.
“Danny!” Tray called, coming down the stairs. Something flew past his head and he ducked behind the railing. There was a drone trapped in the bay. Tray hadn’t seen one this close before. It had three little propellers attached to a spherical body, and it was coated in the sparkling copper threads of avalan.
“Amanda, drone!” Tray warned.
Amanda peeked down from the upper catwalk, pulse rifle raised. Using the Occ to track the drone, she knocked the device out of the air in one shot. The drone hit the floor and Tray ran for it, tossing the heavy device out the back door before its system could reset. The drone collided with a second, hovering drone, and Tray slammed the back door closed before any more appeared.
“She didn’t take Hawk. She was supposed to take him,” Amanda cried, padding to the middeck landing, squatting next to Danny.
“Is he alright?” Tray asked.
“
He’s been hit, but he’s awake. He’s just lying here,” Amanda said, shaking Danny’s shoulder. “Danny, get up.”
“Don’t move him yet,” Tray directed, moving to check on Saskia. She looked as peaceful as though she’d fallen asleep in the doorway.
Shifting his attention to Hawk, Tray cringed in empathy. He’d burned through another shirt—literally. It looked like he’d taken a stunner blast directly to his chest. Hawk’s eyelids fluttered and he made a few labored pants as he mustered the energy to speak.
“Hawk?” Tray whispered, lifting Hawk’s chin to make sure he could breathe, reeling at the heat radiating off of Hawk’s skin. Tray knew he needed to get the man’s body temperature down, and his hydration level up.
“Sky,” Hawk murmured, coming to. “Sky?”
“She’s gone,” Tray whispered.
“Gone? Dead?” he asked.
“No, she took the Bobsled and left us,” Tray said.
Hawk sobbed, but was too dehydrated to produce tears.
There was a clatter behind them. Saskia woke with a start and flailed her arms, searching for her weapon. Tray crawled over, catching her hand, helping her sit.
“How are you?” Tray asked.
“Confused,” she said, rubbing her head. “What am I doing in the cargo bay?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Tray said, folding his towel and putting it under her head.
“Last thing I remember is…” she trailed off, taking his arm and levering herself up. “The avalan haul.”
“Wow. That was a lot of conversations ago,” Tray said, touching her head, then feeling weird for being so familiar. He was glad she didn’t remember the traumatic ghost episode, but was also concerned by the memory loss.
“Captain!” she murmured, noticing him on the stairs, jumping to her feet. She seemed confused when Tray offered assistance, as though she didn’t remember the pain of being shot anymore. Shaking Tray off, she hustled to check on Danny, and Tray followed, not sure if he was even needed. Danny had a bruise on his jaw, and a glazed look in his misty eyes. His skin felt cold, and his breathing sounded heavy.
Hybrid: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 4) Page 13