Untitled 6619

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Untitled 6619 Page 12

by Penguin Random House


  As he spoke, the battleship lit up its gun again, and the white energy hit the newly forming shield.

  It bounced off, scattering in all directions. No debris flew off this time.

  “It held!” Rig said. “By the North Star, it held.”

  “Uh, guys,” Nedd said. “How are we going to get through it?”

  Scud. As we flew closer, I scanned the planet. There were areas where the platforms were clearly damaged, non-functional, or missing. That made sense, given the amount of debris that had fallen out of the atmosphere and landed on the surface over the years. But the energy shields stretched over those areas, covering the gaps. The next blast from the battleship focused on one of these areas, but it didn’t crack through the shield.

  “It’s working,” I said.

  “Trust me,” Rig said. “No one is more surprised than I am.”

  “Rig, what happens if we make contact with the shield?” Jorgen asked.

  “Um,” Rig said, “I would not recommend that. At best it would interfere with your instrumentation, maybe make your controls malfunction. At worst, the energy might fry you.”

  “Okay,” Jorgen said. “So how do we get inside?”

  “Um,” Rig said, “our exhausted hyperdrives maybe?”

  “Guys?” Nedd said. “What are we going to do about the large force of enemy ships still hanging out right where we’re headed?”

  I could see them on my proximity monitors, still trying to fire on the planet, chasing down the few ships that had been left outside the shield.

  “I just heard from Cobb,” Jorgen said. “We’re going to run and hide.”

  I supposed that was the only option we had left.

  Twelve

  Jorgen gave us a heading to a cluster of space rock that had been too far out for the gun platforms to blast from the sky, but which was large enough for us all to hide within.

  “Cobb agrees that we’re going to have to use the hyperdrives to get on the other side of the shield,” Jorgen said. “He can’t afford to drop the shield as long as the gunships are parked there. The engineers are working on how to turn off individual sections of the shield, but that will take time.”

  “It might take months,” Rig said. “We could starve to death waiting for that, if we don’t run out of fuel and freeze to death first.”

  “Right,” Jorgen said. “And we want several fresh taynix before we try, so we don’t end up getting stranded or stuck somewhere the Superiority can get to us. So we’re going to have to wait for all the slugs to…cool down, I guess? Calm themselves? We have time, because Cobb is sending our coordinates to the other ships caught outside the shield. The slugs bring everything that’s touching their box with them, so we’ll all huddle together and touch wings and try to hyperjump beneath the shield without losing anyone.”

  “It would be easier if we had some way to interlock,” Rig said to me. “Like the Defiant Fleet ships used to do before they crashed here. When this is over, my team should work on that.”

  I picked Happy up off his lap and scooped him into my arms. “Jerkface,” I said over the radio. “You should probably try to comfort your slugs. Might make them ready to use again faster.”

  “Comfort them?” Jorgen said. “How do you want me to do that? Tell them a bedtime story?”

  “You could try to hum again,” I said, mostly because I knew it would bother him.

  “Don’t,” Rig added. “You wouldn’t want them deciding they’d rather face the vacuum of space than stay in there with you.”

  “Very helpful,” Jorgen said. “Remind me to thank you.”

  “Pick them up,” I said. “Pet them. Make them feel comfortable.”

  We clearly should have brought some mushrooms with us, but I did have some caviar with me, which I pulled out of my pocket and scooped onto my finger, offering it to Happy. Gill trilled excitedly down by my knee. He crawled up the seat to sit on my armrest, lifting the front part of his body into a begging position. I laughed and offered him a scoop as well.

  “I feel I should tell you,” Jorgen said over the radio, “that I now have a slug on each shoulder and three on my lap, all seeming vaguely uncomfortable that I’m touching them. I blame you, FM.”

  “Be more gentle,” I said. “Quit squeezing them.”

  “I’m not squeezing them! Have some faith in me.”

  “You could always try that bedtime story,” Sadie added. “I could use one of those about now.”

  “I’ll tell you one,” Nedd offered.

  “Don’t,” Arturo said. “Nedder’s stories always end with everyone getting eaten by space monsters.”

  “Hey!” Nedd said. “All the best stories end in people getting eaten. Isn’t that right, Sentry?”

  “Um, I’ll pass, thanks,” Sadie said.

  “Anyone else?” Nedd offered. “Quirk? FM?”

  “Thanks, I’m good,” I said.

  “Bless your stars,” Kimmalyn added.

  I leaned back in my seat. According to the proximity monitors, the Krell hadn’t located us here. They’d no doubt be looking for the cytonic ship that escaped, but since they knew we had hyperdrives, they’d probably expect us to have escaped beneath the shield by now.

  “I think we’re actually going to survive this,” Rig said. He sounded surprised.

  “So little faith in my flying,” I said, smiling at him.

  Rig smiled shyly, and I found myself paying far too much attention to his lips.

  He’d been an asset today, even without much pilot training. I should probably tell him so, but instead I opened a private channel to Jorgen. “Jerkface?” I said. “What happened? After your shield dropped in that last skirmish? It seemed like your ship malfunctioned.”

  Jorgen was quiet for a minute. “I saw Spensa.”

  Rig and I exchanged a look. “What?”

  “I saw Spensa, in a reflection in my dash. But it wasn’t a reflection. It was her. I could feel her, same way I feel the eyes. Same way I found the slugs under the surface.”

  “Seriously?” I asked. “Where is she?”

  “In the nowhere,” Jorgen said. “In the place we travel through when we hyperjump. She’s stuck in there, and she says it’s supposed to be impossible to get out.”

  Beside me, Rig closed his eyes.

  “She’ll escape,” I said to Jorgen, for both their benefits.

  “That’s what I told her,” Jorgen said. “And I believe she will. But I wish she were back already.”

  “So do I,” I said, though I imagined it was for very different reasons. “But it’s Spin. She’ll survive.”

  “I sure hope so,” Jorgen said, and he closed the line.

  Rig and I sat there in silence for a moment. My arm felt warm where it touched his, and the heat radiated through my body. Finally Rig muttered, “I can’t believe you thought I was into Spensa.”

  I laughed. “You guys are close, right? So I just assumed—”

  “We grew up together. She’s like my sister. Not that I ever had a sister, but if I had one who was, like, terrifying, that’s how I think it would feel.”

  “Okay, fine,” I said. “I shouldn’t have made that assumption.”

  Rig blushed. “Can we listen to that song again?” he asked, probably to change the subject. “The one with all the voices?”

  “Sure,” I said, turning my transmitter back on. The chorus filled the cockpit again, and the slugs began to trill along in perfect harmony. I ran a hand down the fringe on Gill’s back, hoping this was helping him to relax.

  So we could scare him again. That still made me feel like a monster. These creatures were saving our lives, maybe were going to save our whole civilization.

  And what did we do in return? Terrorize them.

  In the copilot seat, Rig had two slugs stre
tched across his lap, and another particularly long one draped over his shoulders.

  “I think we should name that one Drape,” I said.

  “I like that,” he said, running a hand down the stomach of the thicker one on his knee that had rolled over for a belly rub. “I think this one is Twist.”

  “Nice.”

  “Hey,” Rig said. “You kept your perfect record of not getting killed. I appreciate you not making an exception this time.”

  I smiled. “Thanks for your help. We made a good team up there.”

  “Yeah.” Rig smiled, though he looked a little wistful, and I thought I knew why. “I’m glad we’re friends,” he said quietly.

  I’d never told him that I only wanted to be friends. He’d assumed, and I supposed that was fair.

  It just wasn’t true. “It’s definitely better than you ignoring me,” I said.

  Rig winced. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. I get it.”

  “Still. I shouldn’t have made things weird. It’s not a big deal if you’re not interested in me.”

  “Interested in me!” Happy trilled helpfully.

  “Thanks, Happy,” Rig said.

  Scud, should I say something? I obviously was interested in Rig. I liked how competent he was, how confident he got when talking about something he loved. He was kind and quick-thinking, and we did work well together as a team.

  And that smile. Stars, I could stand to see that smile every day for a long, long time.

  No, it wasn’t a lack of interest that held me back. It was the situation, the knowledge that any day I could fly out on one of these missions and never come back. It had almost happened today—it could happen anytime. I depended on my flight and on the other pilots. I didn’t know yet who we’d lost today, but I was betting there had been casualties in this battle, people I knew and liked. People such as Lizard, who would suddenly be gone, blinked out of existence like dying stars.

  I didn’t know if I was ready to form any deeper attachments than the ones I already had. I wasn’t sure how Jorgen handled it, knowing Spensa would always be charging off into danger. If Rig hadn’t been sitting right here, I might have called Jorgen and asked him.

  Rig leaned back, closing his eyes and listening to the music. He wasn’t sulking. More…sad.

  I didn’t like causing him pain, especially when he had the wrong idea. But was I ready?

  I’m as ready as I am right now, I thought.

  Maybe in this dangerous existence, that was as close as I was ever going to get.

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” I said finally.

  Rig’s eyes snapped open. “Really?” he said. He sounded doubtful.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I said I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Rig said. He continued to stroke Twist on the belly, and the slug took the high soprano part while Drape trilled alto from Rig’s shoulders. He was so gentle with them, so sweet.

  I’d have to be an idiot not to give this a chance, whatever the circumstances.

  “Maybe I have a better idea now,” I said. And then I reached over and took Rig’s hand.

  Rig’s sharp intake of breath nearly made me let go, but then he relaxed, smiling. His cheeks turned a bright pink, but he didn’t let go either.

  We sat there listening to the swell of the music, neither of us speaking. A quiet peace overwhelmed me, and I closed my eyes, savoring it.

  Maybe it wasn’t just the slugs who had needed comforting.

  Finally Jorgen’s voice returned over the radio. “Cobb says the shield is holding and the gunship has stopped firing for now. Four other ships are going to catch a ride with us when the slugs are ready. They’re currently hiding on the other side of the rock cluster and I’ve invited them to this channel.”

  The pilots all called in, two from Ivy Flight, and one each from Riptide and Ranger, a scout flight we’d worked with before.

  Stallion, assistant flightleader from Ranger Flight, piped up. “What’s the plan out here? Command said you were going to take us home. Are we finding a hole in the shield?”

  “Negative,” Jorgen said. “We’re going to use a hyperdrive.”

  There was silence over the line. “Repeat, Skyward One?” Stallion said. “Did you say a hyperdrive?”

  “Affirmative,” Jorgen said. “We have a hyperdrive on board, which we will use to get inside the planetary shield.”

  He sounded more confident about that than he probably was, given our adventures with the hyperdrives so far. Still, with the shield blocking entry to the planet, it was this or wait for our ships to run out of power for our life support.

  “What’s the matter?” Nedd asked. “Never used a hyperdrive before?”

  “Ummmm,” Stallion said.

  “Where have you been?” Catnip added. “I use hyperdrives all the time. Used one on my way to the cleansing pods this morning, didn’t I, T?”

  “Totally,” T-Stall responded. “I thought everybody had hyperdrives these days.”

  “All right,” Jorgen said. “That’s enough.”

  There was silence on the line for a bit, and then Stallion said what the other pilots all must have been thinking. “But seriously? A hyperdrive?”

  “He’s being serious,” I said.

  “If you say so,” Stallion said.

  I smiled. “I do.”

  Jorgen reopened our private line. “FM, how are your slugs doing?”

  Gill looked a bit affronted that I’d stopped petting him when I took Rig’s hand, but other than that they seemed relaxed. “Good,” I responded. “Maybe ready? You could try and see?”

  “I think we should use one of yours. Mine all seem pretty disgruntled.”

  “Stop squeezing them.”

  “I’m not! I swear!”

  I laughed, and Rig joined me.

  If we were preparing to hyperjump soon, I was going to have to let go of his hand. I mean, my elbow was kind of aching from being at an awkward angle on the armrest and my palm was sweating. But I still weirdly didn’t want to.

  That probably meant something, but I was more comfortable with the idea of attempting a hyperjump than I was with thinking about that.

  I let go of Rig’s hand, stretching my fingers. “Let’s try to put them all in the box, so Jorgen doesn’t get the wrong one again.”

  “I’m a little worried they’re going to start expecting the scare the moment they’re put in the box,” Rig said. “I wonder if we should be keeping them in similar boxes when they’re off duty to acclimatize them.”

  Much as I didn’t want the poor slugs consigned to living in dark boxes for their entire lives, his logic made sense. And I did like that he referred to them as being off duty instead of out of use, like they were creatures rather than objects.

  “Let’s hope they haven’t totally made that connection yet,” I said. “Because I don’t know that we have time to acclimatize them to it now.” Rig and I wrangled the five slugs into the box, shutting them in.

  “Okay,” I told Jorgen. “We’re ready.”

  “Skyward Flight,” Jorgen said, “And…guests. Come join us up by the…curvy formation at the top of this rock. We’re going to need to get our ships close enough to touch wings.”

  I looked out through the canopy to see what Jorgen was talking about—a wicked hooklike protrusion on the top of this piece of space rock. I engaged my acclivity ring to lift us up toward it, and the other ships clustered around us. Jorgen’s ship pressed close on our right until our wings touched, and I could see slugs perched precariously on each of his shoulders.

  “They do look uncomfortable,” Rig said.

  Kimmalyn used her boosters to scoot up next to us on the left, giving me a bright smile and a thumbs-up through the glass.
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  “All pilots, confirm you are in position for hyperjump,” Jorgen said.

  Everyone confirmed, though the new pilots sounded significantly less confident that we were in fact about to hyperjump.

  “Skyward Five, we are a go,” Jorgen said.

  And then the stars disappeared.

  Thirteen

  Jorgen managed to get the slug to hyperjump us within a few kilometers of Platform Prime, which was several layers below the shield—a crackling, glowing net that stretched across the spaces between the platforms over our heads. We were greeted in the landing bay by Cobb and Jorgen’s mother, who looked happy for once. She ushered Jorgen off, telling him they needed to debrief.

  “I can handle getting the slugs into their crates,” I told Rig. “I’m guessing you want to go talk to your friends in engineering about the shield.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it.” The rest of my flight headed to the mess hall to wind down from the battle, but I waved them off too.

  Usually I liked companionship after a battle, but today I wanted to be alone.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said to Gill, who rode on my shoulder while I toted the rest of the slugs toward Engineering in a box. “I should be happy.”

  “Happy!” Happy said from the box.

  “Yeah, exactly,” I said. No one in my flight had been hurt, despite several close calls. Rig and I were…something, though I didn’t know exactly what. I didn’t regret holding his hand—I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to regret that. We’d gotten the hyperdrives to work, sort of. Not enough to change the outcome of the battle, but enough to give us some hope.

  But that was exactly it, I realized. I wasn’t sure what came next. We didn’t have a cytonic to teach Jorgen how to give coordinates to the slugs. We had a shield that was working for now, but there was no way it would hold up indefinitely. We had potential allies we still couldn’t reach, and a whole lot of enemies sitting on our doorstep.

 

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