One thing at a time, Hall. Don’t get overwhelmed.
I elbow Rion out of the way and whisper to Asra.
“Is there a window somewhere? Can we get a look?”
She motions for me to follow, and the two of us shuffle our way around a complicated-looking system of digital readouts to a tiny grubby window. The bright noonday sun is barely visible through the grime, so I use the edge of my sleeve to wipe off what I can from the inside. As soon as I do, I jerk back; there’s a pair of polished boots right next to the window. Military boots? Enforcers?
I lie down in the dirt, trying to get a steeper angle, maybe see some uniforms. I’m probably getting years’ worth of mold and maggot crap in my hair, but I need to know whether it’s safe for us to leave before risking the others. I angle my head toward the window, and there—the sand buildup and grime on the outside makes it hard to see specifics, but there’s no mistaking the crisp outline of the navy-blue uniforms of the enforcers. I roll away and scramble back toward the others. If one of those enforcers had looked down at just the wrong time . . .
Asra rejoins us and puts her tablet in the middle of our little group, sliding the brightness up so I can make out facial expressions. It’s serious frowns all around, for the most part, though Asra seems a little sick, too. Worried about Nani, I’d bet. Rion slumps back against the wall and rubs at his calf and thigh muscles. I get that; after the morning he and I had, the last thing I really wanted was more crawling, more running, more adrenaline and fear. My legs are screaming. I’ve never wanted a couch, a video game, and my dad’s nonstop running baseball commentary so bad in my life.
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear,” I say to the group, “but I think we need to get comfortable for a few hours, at least until dark. I saw at least six enforcers out there, maybe more. If we make a run for it now, we’ll get followed at best, and captured at worst. Asra, do you think there’s any real chance of them crawling under here to check for us?”
She purses her lips, thinking for a moment, then shakes her head. “No, probably not. The building directly above us is abandoned and condemned.” At this, Rion and Case immediately look up, as if the ceiling is suddenly going to collapse by mere suggestion. I’m about to make a snarky comment about it, but the ceiling gives a sketchy-sounding groan, and I barely manage to not flinch.
Asra grins at us, despite the circumstances. “Relax. It’s been condemned for years. I doubt today will be the day it decides to fall. They won’t chance searching it, though; too much risk to their officers. They could crawl through the way we did if they find the hatch, but I’m hoping they assume we escaped through the upper windows instead and are searching the streets.” She shoots me a reassuring smile. “We’ll be fine. I know a place we can go once we get out of here. We just need to sit tight.”
Zee, who has been remarkably matter-of-fact throughout this whole thing, nods and sits down, kicking her long legs out in front of her.
“I agree in theory,” she says, “but what about what we saw on the tablet?”
Rion swears. “Yeah, we don’t really have half a day to waste. Earth First wants to attack the colonies? We’re on a colony world. If we’re going to steal this ship, we need to do it now.”
“Does that mean you’re all on board for my plan, then?” Asra says, her eyes locked on her tablet, reflecting its pale light as tiny white squares. Her voice is overly casual, deliberately calm, but the corners of her mouth are tense.
Case and I lock eyes. We were the only dissenters. I only see one possible path out of this, one way to help stop this. But Rion was right earlier—we all see different possibilities. I glance at Rion, catch his eye, then look back to Case.
“I’m in. Sorry, Case, but I just don’t see another option right now.”
“Hey, I tried to do the right thing and got screwed.” Case’s eyes are crushingly sad, but she forces a faint smile. “Let’s steal ourselves a ship.”
Zee studies her with careful consideration. “You’re sure? No more running off, no more putting us all at risk because of your conscience? Can we trust you?”
“My conscience is as clear as it’s going to get,” Case says with a shrug. “You can trust me. Now we just need to figure out the when and how.”
Asra nods. “The when is somewhat decided for us. The Manizeh is off-world right now, but it’s scheduled to return just before midnight. We can give the enforcers a few hours to clear out, head to my safe house, make our plan, and go. Agreed?”
Zee reaches out to squeeze Case’s shoulder. “Agreed.”
“Agreed,” Rion says, though he still watches Case with pursed lips and wary eyes.
I gesture with a grand flourish to Case, and she rolls her eyes at me, but it pulls a real smile from her anyway. “Yes. Tonight. Agreed.”
“That’s it, then.” I toss her a wink as I borrow her earlier words. “Let’s steal ourselves a ship.”
Nine
I WOULD FEEL A HUNDRED times better right now if I could go for a run without getting arrested. I’m in that weird place between exhausted and amped, and staring at walls is the opposite of helpful. Back on Earth, August always meant soccer camp, endless distance running, drills, and scrimmages. Being cooped up with the curtains drawn is making me restless. Sitting around doing nothing while Asra, Rion, and Case work on our heist planning is making it worse. Zee and I tried to help, but we were only in the way; turns out a doctor and a pilot aren’t all that useful for breaking and entering.
Asra has a few words with Tahseefa, the friend whose house we’ve temporarily invaded, and she says it’s safe to run the staircase between the first and second floors to burn off some nervous energy without having to go outside. Just in time, too, because I’m about to climb out of my skin.
I cast a look over at Zee as I begin my calf and shin stretches. She’s perched on the edge of the raggedy couch, staring unseeingly at the muted wall screen as her restless legs twitch and bounce. Asra catches my look, nudges Zee, and gestures my way. With an expression of blessed relief, she leaps off the couch, and I shift to give her some room. Zee nods her thanks, dropping into a stretch beside me.
I shuffle my feet out wider and lean over, feeling the stretch in the backs of my legs and sneaking a peek between my knees at Case and Rion, who sit in dining chairs pulled up next to the couch. I smirk, then glance over at Zee. “You gonna run with me?”
“If you don’t mind,” she says.
“Course not. Seems like we’re having the same problem. Soccer, for me.”
She ties her blue-and-blond hair back in a sleek ponytail and raises a disdainful eyebrow.
“Football,” she corrects. “And same for me. I was in the running for the Kazakhstan national team earlier this year, and now my body doesn’t know what to do with itself. If I don’t run or kick something soon, an innocent piece of furniture will suffer, and that would be terribly rude. In my country, being a poor guest is almost as bad as being a poor host.”
I bark out a laugh at that. I recognize it now, the way she moves, her build, her speed and strength.
“Let me guess. Midfielder.” She strikes me as the brains of the team.
The corner of her mouth quirks up, that same cool and confident expression she has when faced with blood and injuries. “Number ten. And you’re a striker, obviously.”
“Obviously? What’s that supposed to mean?”
She snorts and lowers her voice. “Please. A hotshot pilot, great reflexes, always making jokes, and good-looking enough to have both Case and Rion trailing after you? Classic striker. You would have been endlessly irritating back on Earth.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I glance back to make sure no one else heard that. “Oh, but not you?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m immune to strikers. Besides, this isn’t really a good time, don’t you think?”
“No, you’re right, you’re right.” Still, though. I stretch out my arm for an excuse to look over my shoulder at Case and R
ion. It’s definitely mutual. Case is brilliant on a whole new level, doesn’t let anyone tell her what to think, and I’d love to wrap my arms around her curves. And Rion . . . we just click, somehow. We don’t always agree, but his sense of humor and smile are totally disarming, and he’s unwavering in his beliefs. There’s that something there, the thing I would definitely pursue were the time and place different. . . .
I shake the thoughts out of my head. New subject. Focus on Zee. “So, Kazakhstan? For some reason I thought you were Russian.”
Her hackles go up at that, and she freezes in her stretch, but she quickly releases the tension. “My country has a complicated history. I’m mostly Russian by blood, but part Kazakh on my father’s side. It’s . . . yes, complicated is the best word.”
And I’ve apparently stumbled into a minefield. Time to backtrack. I prop my toes on the baseboard to stretch my calves, and fumble for a new topic.
“If you were playing national-level football, how’d you end up doing the medical thing at the Academy?”
She holds her stretch for a few extra seconds as she studies me, then leans over to touch her toes. “I love my country, but they’re very behind the rest of the world in some ways. They refuse to provide government identifications with anything other than sex assigned at birth until age twenty-one,” she says, her voice quiet and even.
I look up sharply. “Are you serious? Places can still do that?”
“Yes.” She stands straight again and smooths her ponytail before moving on to arm stretches. “When I got selected for the women’s national team, it became a problem. So I decided to go into sports medicine, physical therapy, that sort of thing. Finished my secondary, worked as an EMT in Petropavl for most of the summer. Then went to the Academy and had the same problem.”
“No.” I keep my voice low to match hers, but it’s a near thing. “That’s illegal, Zee, they can’t—”
“They can,” she replies, completely calm. “The ID and the paperwork have to match. They can’t reject me for being trans, but they can for that.”
“Wow. Yeah, Zee, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry you had to grow up somewhere like that.”
Zee shrugged. “I’m not. Yes, it was hard, and it still is, and I hope the push for change goes through soon. But I love my country, and my parents and grandparents and sisters. I traveled a lot for football and saw a lot of places. Mostly stadiums, to be fair, but I still think Kazakhstan is the most beautiful. I went hiking with my teammates a lot and got to see some of the best my country has to offer. I’m glad I grew up there. Burabai, Bayanaul, Kaindy Lake. But after what they’ve put me through, with football and with the Academy, I’m not sad to leave it behind.”
She pauses, takes in a slow breath. Maybe not as unaffected as she seems, then. “What about you? Why’d they kick you out?”
A fresh wave of nerves sets me on edge. I’m not ready for this conversation. Not yet. What can I say?
“I, uh . . .” Stall. Stretch more. Think. “I have a history of . . . not making the best decisions. One of them caught up with me. My own fault.”
Yeah, that’s enough of that. I jump up and down a few times to test my muscles and find them limber and dying to move. And I’m dying to end this conversation. “So, are we doing this or what?”
Zee smiles and claps me on the shoulder. “After you, hotshot,” she says in that pointed accent of hers.
I give her a mock half bow. “Whatever you say, Dr. Eyeliner.”
My legs are coiled and ready to spring, but I turn back to check on the others first.
“How’s the planning coming? Any updates?”
Case waves her hand at me without looking away from the tablet screen she and Rion are studying. “Go be jocks. We’ll be done soon.”
Asra leans over to point out something on her own tab, and Case’s attention is reabsorbed by the task at hand. I look at Zee and shrug, then throw open the door and race down the stairs as fast as I can without slamming into the wall on the landing.
We chat on and off through panting breaths, mostly about football, but she also manages to get me talking about my family and tells me about hers back in Kazakhstan. It’s easy enough to regale her with tales of North Carolina farm living, so different from her time in Kazakhstan’s ultramodern major cities, and stories of Dad and Pa’s Fourth of July fireworks accidents get her laughing so hard she can hardly run.
“What about siblings?” she asks when she gets her breath back. “Anyone to suffer through with you?”
The grin drops straight off my face. “Just the one brother. We don’t get along.” Not anymore, at least. Those days are long past.
Zee flicks her hand in a little wave, like a silent apology. “Well, that’s one bonus of being exiled from Earth. At least you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”
I put on an extra burst of speed and pound out my frustration on the stairs. If only that were true.
“Actually, he’s out here. He works for spaceport security on Valen.”
Zee’s labored, even breaths break into chuckles. “I suppose you can just avoid that entire planet. Plenty of other options.”
I’m about to make a snarky comment about him taking one of the best planets when the door to Tahseefa’s flat opens and Case pokes her head out.
“We need you both for this next part,” she says, wrinkling her nose at our sweat-soaked faces, “and you’re driving me up the wall anyway. Think you can give it a rest and join us?”
I stumble back inside the flat, my T-shirt damp and clinging, and shoot her a winning smile. “As you command.”
Her cheeks darken a bit as I drop into a low stretch, working my warm muscles into relaxation. I sense eyes on me as I move, so I make it a bit of a show, twisting back and forth, leaning over farther, pulling the bottom of my shirt up to wipe at the sweat on my forehead. Why not? When I turn back around, Case and Rion avoid my eyes, looking everywhere but at me. Theory confirmed. Zee looks to the ceiling and shakes her head, but I catch her smirking as she turns away.
In the kitchen corner of the wide-open living area, I flick on the tiny dim light over the sink and scrounge for something to drink out of. It takes me three tries to find a cabinet with glasses. The water smells a little metallic, but tastes mostly fine. It clears my head some, eases some of the tightness behind my eyes. Food would help, too. Crime on an empty stomach seems like a bad idea.
A bit of searching turns up a heavy cast iron pan and some eggs. Nothing wrong with eggs for dinner at ten o’clock at night when you’re about to commit a crime. It takes a moment of fiddling, but I get the stovetop fired up and throw a chunk of ghee in the pan to melt.
“Okay, let’s talk,” I say, cracking a few eggs into a cleanish-looking bowl. “Asra, what’s the next phase of the plan we need to figure out?”
She takes a deep breath through her nose, then fixes me with a solid gaze. “First off, I haven’t said thank you yet. Seriously. I’ve been looking for people like you for months, waiting for the chance to try again, and I was starting to worry that . . . but I really think this is going to work. Thank you for trusting me.” She glances down at her lap and fiddles with the edge of her hijab. “I actually quite like you all, you know.”
I huff a small laugh. “Yeah, well, we like you too, especially the saving us from ourselves bit.”
Asra ducks her head and pulls out her tablet, fixing her eyes on its glowing surface, but the tiny curl at the corner of her mouth is there all the same. She bites her lip, then looks back up, straight at me.
“I do know that this is wrong, no matter how good the intention,” she says, her eyes pained. “I don’t want you to think I don’t know that. I’ve made my peace with it as best I can, and I promise I won’t back out on you.”
I shake my head and wave it off. Honestly, I’m the last person to judge her. I don’t really know how Asra is dealing with the fact that stealing is haraam, but I do know she’s a far better person than her stepdad, and things
will be better in Saleem if we pull this off.
I shoot Asra a small smile and whip up the eggs until they’re nice and frothy, then slosh them into the pan.
“With everything that’s happened over the past day, I think you’ve proved we can trust you.”
The others murmur their agreement, even Case. The embassy incident really seems to have humbled her. Asra looks to the ceiling for a moment, then clears her throat and raises her voice to talk over the sizzling eggs.
“We’ll run through the whole plan start to finish in a bit,” she says, shifting back to business mode, “but we haven’t talked about where we’re going once we have the ship, and that’s the part I wanted you both in on. Can we figure that out now?”
Huh. Whoops. Guess we’ve been so focused on actually getting the ship that we never bothered to think about where to take it. This is all going to go so well. I absentmindedly scrape the bottom of the pan as the eggs start to scramble, letting the rhythmic sound lull the anxiety threatening to pierce claws through my heart.
“I guess if we make it off Jace’s rooftop landing pad, we’ll aim for high orbit and hope we don’t get shot down, to start with. I promise I’ll fly my heart out, better than I did getting us away from the station, but we do need a jump destination at least, so we don’t have to figure it out while we’re getting shot at. Any suggestions?”
Rion gets to his feet and wanders into the kitchen. “We probably all have some family or friends out here that would be willing to take us in while we work on the Academy problem,” he says, reaching around me to rummage for five plates and forks. “I’m sure my uncle and his husband would have us. They’re on Europa.”
Case winces. “That’s a bit too close to home for me. I’m not sure I want to be in the same solar system as Earth right now. Ana was my only contact out here, and you saw how that turned out, so I’ve got nothing.”
The Disasters Page 10