Jelena suspected the offer was for Masika, but Alfie rose to her feet and trotted through the hatchway after him, nails clacking on the deck.
“Alfie is coming to help,” Jelena called after him.
“How is she at holding wrenches?”
“I don’t think that’s her area of expertise. If you need a stray bird flushed out of the machinery in engineering, she’d be a good ally.”
“We should have kept one of the monkeys.”
“How long will it take us to reach this wine cellar?” Masika asked, ignoring the exchange and pointing at the view screen. Darkness had indeed fallen, and stars gleamed in the sky over the ocean. Land wasn’t visible from their current location.
“Not long,” Jelena said. “How are you at stealthily sneaking aboard wine shuttles?”
“My stealth is excellent.” Masika prodded her metallic armband. “Assuming this doesn’t rustle every time I move my arm. What are we going to do if we successfully reach the island?”
“Be sneaky.” Jelena glanced at Thor. “And then use guile.”
Chapter 19
The town of Nueva Cartagena, where a map told them Hierarchy Cellars lay, sprawled for miles up and down the Tarangan Coast. There wasn’t a space base listed, not that Jelena had any intention of looking for a legal place to dock the Snapper. Ships that had been utterly destroyed by enemy fire did not amble into public docking areas, not if they didn’t want word to get out of their survival. Thus, she set the freighter down in some tall grass above a pebbly beach in a cove fifteen miles south of town. A few sleepy houses looked out from the hills, but most of their lights were off, and the beach itself was dark. As long as they returned by dawn, she doubted anyone would notice the ship.
“A long walk,” Thor observed.
Judging by the clanks emanating from the rear of the ship, Erick was still working on repairs. Masika had muttered something about getting weapons and left a few minutes earlier. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to be in NavCom for Jelena’s next unorthodox landing. This one went smoothly, however, with no need for Starseer protection.
“Erick and I have thrust bikes,” Jelena said. “It won’t take much time to ride up the beach.”
“So only Masika and I will walk?”
“Flirt with Erick a little, and I bet he’ll let you ride behind him.” She cut the power to the ship and rose from her seat, smiling at Thor.
He did not smile back. Maybe imagining Erick in his cape earlier hadn’t excited him. Not that she’d caught him smiling often for any reason. Even as a kid, he’d been somber. No, especially as a kid. She had been, too, back then, but her dad’s death seemed a long time ago now. Too long ago to hold a grudge against whoever had dropped that bomb.
“Are you sure?” Thor asked softly, his eyes intent.
“That Erick shares his bike with those who flirt with him? Absolutely.”
“That you wouldn’t do something if you knew who dropped that bomb.”
Uncomfortable with him reading her thoughts, she started to shake her head. But was it the truth? She wasn’t sure. She just knew she didn’t feel compelled to go on a killing rampage over it, not anymore.
“I don’t know.” She looked away from his intent gaze.
“Do we have to worry about people finding and reporting the ship?” Masika asked, walking back into NavCom carrying a rifle and wearing a dagger at her belt. She’d put her jacket back on so her metallic armband wasn’t visible now.
“I’ll add some camouflage to it.” Thor’s expression grew distant for a moment, then he nodded to himself.
Masika eyed him up and down. “Level Ten is when Starseers really get creepy.”
Jelena decided not to make suggestions as to what Thor’s level might be. Higher than hers. She was glad he was here and for his help. She should get him a cape too. A nice one with some glittering sequins along the hem.
Thor squinted, whether for her thoughts or Masika’s comments, Jelena did not know.
She tapped the comm. “Erick? How much longer do you need?”
“Just a few minutes.”
“We don’t want to miss the wine shuttle. You can stay here if you need to.”
“I’ll be ready. I want to make sure we can take off in a hurry if we need to.”
“Good idea. When you’re done, put on your robe, please. Just in case we run into people and need to look powerful.” Jelena glanced at Masika. “And creepy.”
“Just my robe? No cape?”
“You don’t have a cape yet. We haven’t had time for shopping.”
“I have a sheet.”
“One of the rumpled sheets from the bed you never make is not going to make you look powerful and creepy.”
“That’s disappointing.”
Jelena started toward her cabin for a quick change of her own, but paused in the hatchway to tell Thor to dress his most powerful and creepiest too. One glance at his sword hilt and black clothes made her decide the admonition was unnecessary.
Thor looked wryly at her, probably monitoring her thoughts again.
After donning her robe and grabbing her staff, Jelena headed for the cargo hold. Masika and Thor waited near the cargo hatch, but Erick hadn’t arrived yet. Jelena unclamped their thrust bikes from the storage rack and turned them on. They sputtered a few times, then rumbled and rose to hover a few inches above the deck.
“There’s nobody nearby on the beach,” Thor reported.
Masika gave him that wary look, perhaps thinking about levels again.
Erick trotted into the cargo hold, his robe thankfully unwrinkled, his hood up and his staff in hand. Thor had his hood up also, along with a head wrap that left only the top of his nose and his eyes visible.
“We look fearsome, right?” Jelena asked Masika, who wore her only clothes, the gray fatigues. Jelena was tempted to tell her to leave the rifle behind, since force wasn’t what she intended to use up there, but she could envision her plans falling apart and the group running into trouble at the winery or, more likely, when they arrived at the castle.
“I’d be alarmed if I saw you three coming.”
“Good.” Jelena planned to use illusions rather than showing themselves when they reached the castle, but if that didn’t work, she would negotiate with the Vogels in person. In which case, she would prefer to come across as a mature and dangerous Starseer rather than an eighteen-year-old girl in over her head. “Anything we can do to add to the fearsome effect?”
“Don’t tell anyone if you’re wearing your ponies underwear,” Erick suggested.
Thor’s eyebrows twitched upward.
“They’re unicorns, and I’m not. You better not be wearing your asteroids pajamas under that robe.”
“They’re asteroids and spaceships, and I’m not.”
Thor pulled out his sword, flicked his wrist to extend the blade, and pointed it at the hatch. “With my cavalry at my back, I charge,” he murmured, as if quoting some general of old.
The hatch hissed as the seal broke, and it swung open. The ramp lowered, and the scent of salty sea air wafted in, along with the roar of ocean waves breaking beyond their cove.
Jelena slung a leg over her thrust bike and waved to the back of her seat for someone to join her. “Whoever’s riding with me better not jab me in the back with a sword.”
“You’d be safer with Masika then,” Erick said, “for multiple reasons.”
Thor flicked his wrist to draw in his telescoping blade, giving Erick a flat look. Jelena suspected he enjoyed flicking that sword in and out just because.
“But,” Erick added, “the bikes do have weight limits. Probably better for Thorian to ride with you and Masika with me.” He smiled brightly at her.
At least he didn’t wink. Given the past she had alluded to, Masika might not appreciate winks. But she climbed on behind him without comment.
Thor considered the empty spot behind Jelena, and she had the distinct impression that he would prefer to drive. Too bad. It was he
r bike.
She didn’t know if he heard the thought, but he climbed on. At first, he was careful not to touch her, perhaps because of her sword comment. Or because he thought girls had cooties. But there weren’t grips or handles back there, so he would have to hang on to her. Or use his special Starseer skills to keep him from tumbling off.
“My balance is quite good,” he murmured, as Jelena accelerated the bike down the ramp and into the grass.
“What?” Jelena wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly over the rumble of the engine.
“I do a lot of stretches and exercises for flexibility and balance.”
“Well, if you don’t want to hang on, that’s your choice. But if you fall off, I’m not coming back for you.”
She wondered if she should be offended or disgruntled that he didn’t want to get close. Weren’t young men supposed to take every opportunity to squeeze female flesh? Granted, she didn’t have as much personal experience with that as someone her age should—a byproduct of usually having a hulking and muscular stepfather around when the family visited a space station or city. Leonidas wasn’t exactly overprotective, but all he had to do was look at a man who was looking at Jelena, and the interested prospect tended to find something else to occupy his eyes—some of them outright fled.
Erick zoomed past Jelena, calling, “Race you!” over the roar of the ocean.
His thrusters flared red as his bike shot through the grass and out onto the beach.
Jelena grumbled and followed, but didn’t roar into top speed, not wanting to intentionally buck Thor off—or crash into a log she didn’t see in the dark. She did bank hard as she turned onto the beach and zoomed after Erick, less because she wanted to race and more because she felt the press of time. That shuttle would be leaving soon.
Perhaps aware of her thoughts of crashing into logs, Thor scooted a little closer and rested his hands on her waist. His grip was light, and there was definitely no squeezing going on, but she could feel the heat of his palms through her shirt. He probably wouldn’t be scared away by a cyborg glowering at him.
We’re falling behind, Thor commented in her mind.
Erick is a maniac. It’s impossible to keep up with him.
Oh? There was a challenge in that single word.
The thrum of the engine grew more pronounced, and the wind whipped into Jelena’s eyes, bringing tears. Why hadn’t she grabbed her goggles? Her ponytail whipped behind her, probably pummeling Thor in the face. She smirked slightly, deciding he deserved that, but the thought soon faltered. No, he didn’t deserve any extra torment. He’d had enough go wrong in his life.
Thor lifted a hand to her shoulder and rested it there for a moment before returning it to her waist. The simple gesture seemed to be an acknowledgment or maybe even appreciation, and she was tempted to say something, to invite him to tell her about how the last ten years had been, but he would volunteer such information if he wanted to share it. Besides, the glow of Erick’s thrusters had grown closer, and they had a race to win.
She leaned into the handlebars, urging the engine to its full speed, ignoring the tears in her eyes. The beach was empty and there were few obstacles.
Soon, the lights of the city came into view. Even with her engine roaring at full power, she couldn’t catch up to Erick. He had too much of a lead.
But then the glow of his thrusters lessened, and she thought she smelled smoke. His engine faltered, a choking sound audible over the waves. His bike stuttered and slowed to a stop.
Do you need help? Jelena asked, slowing her own bike.
It was too dark to read the look he sent them, but she sensed suspicion. No. I can fix it.
All right, meet you at the winery.
They’d both looked at the map, and she knew he could find it. She didn’t want to risk missing that shuttle.
It’s a simple obstruction in his exhaust pipe, Thor informed her. He’ll be along shortly. After we win the race.
Odd that you know so much about it.
I have an aptitude for mechanical constructs, as you may recall.
Handy.
Indeed.
Jelena took the first path that headed to a street running perpendicular to the beach. The winery was on the far side of town from the ocean. Fortunately, Nueva Cartagena wasn’t a large town. Jelena zipped down the street, hugging the shadows and avoiding the circles of light cast from the lampposts as much as possible. A few ground cars and hover trucks rumbled around the town, but nobody paid attention to her thrust bike.
After a few more miles and turns, she reached an adobe wall that stretched along the street fronting the vineyard. She drove them past a well-lit iron gate with a couple of guards reading or watching vids in a kiosk next to it. One glanced up as she passed.
Going in the front doesn’t look feasible, she commented silently. Not unless they’re open to late night vineyard tours.
Drive around the corner. We’ll go over the wall. Have you scanned the interior yet?
No. I will. Jelena blushed a little, feeling she already should have, but she was concentrating on driving, following the long front wall that went on and on. Did they have their whole property walled in? Including acres of vineyards?
There are a lot of shuttles back there where the warehouse and loading facilities are.
Jelena let her senses drift past the wall as she turned the corner and headed down a darker street. This one wasn’t well-lit, and she slowed down, thinking to simply park by the wall. She couldn’t sense much beyond a house up near the gate, where a few people were awake, congregating by a fire pit on a patio.
Go farther. Toward the warehouse in the back.
Jelena tried to get a feel for that warehouse, but as usual, she had a much easier time sensing people and animals than buildings and inanimate objects. She noticed rodents out in the fields—vineyards—behind the house. A coyote. A bramisar, one of the native animals that pre-dated the Earth colonists. A couple of big dogs lounged on the patio with the fire watchers.
I see you’re taking note of the important things, Thor thought, and shared a very sharp and very detailed vision of a warehouse with over a dozen shuttles lined up along a loading dock.
Why aren’t there any people at the warehouse? she grumbled silently. If they’re getting shipments ready . . .
Looks like robots are handling it. You can pull over here.
Thank you for giving me your permission, your majesty.
Your majesty? You’re thinking of kings. I was to be an emperor.
Oh? What’s the proper butt-kissing honorific for an emperor?
Your imperial highness.
I’ll try to remember that. Should genuflecting be involved? Jelena pulled the bike into the shadows and stopped it on a clump of weeds.
In the old days, you were supposed to drop to your hands and knees and press your forehead to the floor. Thor hopped off the bike.
Sounds unsanitary.
Thor jumped to the top of the ten-foot wall, landing lightly in a crouch atop it, his sword in his hand. Jelena rolled her eyes, regretting slightly that she hadn’t taken a few of the turns harder and made him fall off the bike.
She pulled her staff out of its holder, debating how to jump up there, grab on, and pull herself up while gripping it. She supposed she could simply toss it over to the other side and hope it didn’t clatter on pavement.
Thor leaned back and held out his hand, the gesture barely visible in the starlight. It took her a second to realize he was offering to hold it for her. She tossed it up to him and decided not to have any more snide thoughts. At least not for the next five minutes.
Not as gracefully as Thor, she leaped, caught the edge, and pulled herself up. She was glad she didn’t need help, and also somewhat pleased that he didn’t assume she would and offer it. He handed back her staff once she crouched beside him atop the wide wall.
Lights brightened the area around a warehouse that looked exactly like the image Thor had shared with her.
On a wide expanse of pavement, fourteen identical shuttles with grapes and glasses of wine painted on the side lined a long loading dock. Judging by the lights, six of them were powered up and ready to go somewhere. Their rear hatches were open, and wheeled cargo robots rolled back and forth from the warehouse to the shuttles, carrying boxes or pallets of wine. Jelena let her senses trickle over the area, but like Thor, she didn’t spot any people around. It was all automated.
“So, which one is heading up to our castle?” she murmured.
“I don’t know.”
“Can you pluck the information out of one of their computerized brains?”
“No.”
“I thought you had an aptitude for mechanical constructs.”
“If you want me to override one’s programming and send it dancing through the vineyards, I can do that. Reading orders—I don’t think it’s possible. They don’t even have monitors to display information.” Thor pointed at one of the robots rolling across the loading dock on its wide wheels. “You’d have to walk up and ask them who the order is for, and I’m sure they don’t tell just anyone.”
Jelena thought about saying that they weren’t “just anyone.” They were fearsome Starseers. But she had yet to meet a robot or android that was afraid of her fearsomeness. Or anything else.
“Maybe there’s a clipboard on a wall down there,” she mused. “Or, if I could get to their navigation controls, it’s likely the routes are already programmed in, especially if autopilots will be doing the flying.” That seemed a likely assumption since nobody was around, and the people in the house seemed to be done working for the day. “I might be able to see where they’re heading without any special clearance.” Most of the autopilot systems she was familiar with displayed maps of the surrounding area and routes, in case a human pilot needed to override the computer and take over.
Thor nodded. “I don’t see any clipboards, so we’ll have to get you down there. That was the plan anyway, right?”
“Right. Think those robots will sound an alarm if they detect someone unauthorized snooping around the shuttles?” Jelena didn’t like how well lit the area around the warehouse was. The robots probably had sensors rather than optics and wouldn’t need lights to see, regardless. Still, one liked some nice, thick shadows for skulking around.
The Rogue Prince (Sky Full of Stars, Book 1) Page 28