Spark: A Sky Chasers Novel

by Amy Kathleen Ryan

  “So you’ve never gotten his image, not once?”

  “Not anything we can work with,” Sarek said darkly. “All we know is that he’s big.”

  He flicked the screen, and a shadowy image of a hulking figure in a hooded jacket appeared frozen, arm upraised, a device in his hand pointed toward the camera. The hood cast a shadow over his features.

  Waverly shook her head, though she knew it didn’t really matter. Any stranger on board would obviously be the terrorist, and any crew member would instantly recognize him. So why was he bothering to hide himself? “How’s Kieran?”

  “He’ll be fine in a day or two. So will Arthur.”

  “Has anyone been able to figure out what that gas was?”

  Sarek shook his head. “Nothing we had in our stores. He must have made it in the lab. We think it must be like the kind of stuff used in crowd control back on Earth during the Water Wars. Not lethal, but it’s incapacitating.”

  “Why would he do that?” Matt said in his deep baritone. “Why not finish us off?”

  “It’s a warning,” Waverly said. “He’s trying to scare us. Next time he’ll use something worse.”

  Matt and Sarek looked at each other.

  “What?” Waverly asked them. “Guys?”

  Matt stared stubbornly at the screen. Sarek avoided Waverly’s glance.

  “There’s a Central Council now,” she told them, “and I’m on it. If you’re withholding information from me, I can sic the Justice of the Peace on you for obstruction of an official investigation.”

  Sarek held up a hand. “Okay. There was a note.” Sarek raised his eyebrows at Matt, who pulled a key from a chain around his neck and went to a cabinet behind the Captain’s chair. From it he pulled a red metal canister, the kind used by farmhands for drinking water. It was wrapped in a clear plastic bag.

  “We found this in the lighting booth at the back of the auditorium.”

  Waverly took it from him. Fastened to the canister was a note written in bold black lettering:

  ATTACKS WILL INCREASE IN SEVERITY UNTIL YOU SIGN A PEACE TREATY WITH THE NEW HORIZON.

  “Peace treaty?” she said. “How can we sign a peace treaty if they won’t even answer our hails?”

  Sarek’s expression darkened but he said nothing. Waverly filed this away for later. Now wasn’t the time to press him.

  Waverly pushed the bag at Matt, who took it from her. The note had the kind of twisted logic Anne Mather used. Those words were probably dictated by the woman herself.

  “I want to know everything you’re doing to find that bastard,” Waverly said to Matt. “Come with me.”

  “Now?”

  “You’re making a report,” she barked. She didn’t care about how bossy she sounded. “When Matt comes back, Sarek, I want you to come tell us what you know, too.”

  Sarek looked at her doubtfully, but she stared him down, and he finally gave a terse nod.

  She marched out of Central Command and down the long hallway to the chamber, where she found the rest of the council already waiting for her. The council chamber was a domed room—one of the few rooms in the vessel with an almost panoramic view of the starry sky—so it was one of the few places where the nebula they’d just finished traversing was still visible. It was huge, pink, with tentacles that spread away from its center. It looked vaguely like a squid. She shuddered and turned away from it.

  Alia Khadivi sat at the table twisting her big turquoise ring around her finger, her enormous dark eyes glistening in the lamplight. Tobin Ames sat with his hands woven together behind his neck, and he watched Matt cautiously through his overgrown brown bangs. Melissa Dickinson, Sealy Arndt, and Harvey Markem lined the other side of the table. The two huge boys dwarfed mousy little Melissa, but she seemed unaware of the effect and smiled shyly at Waverly, who took the seat they’d left open for her at the head of the table.

  “Thanks for coming,” Waverly said. “Unfortunately, Arthur Dietrich is too unwell to be here, but I’ll catch him up later. Matt Allbright is here to report on the progress so far in the investigation to find the terrorist. Matt?” Waverly swiveled her chair to face him.

  At first Matt stared at the center of the table, seeming tongue-tied, but he cleared his throat.

  “The fact is, we have very few leads. There is no clear video trace of the terrorist, so we can’t learn where he’s living, how he’s getting supplies, or whether he’s in contact with the New Horizon.”

  “Well,” Waverly said. “You have the white screens he’s leaving behind. You can follow his movements that way.”

  “Maybe,” Matt said, “but it’s hard to search for a white screen that lasts for only a second or two. We’d have to fast-forward through days’ worth of video, and we’ll probably miss a lot of them. Instead we’re concentrating on trying to learn if he’s in contact with Anne Mather.”

  “Are you monitoring outside transmissions?” Waverly asked.

  “There are ways to encrypt transmissions to make them sound like background radiation. So far we’re not seeing anything like that originating from the ship, but we’ve got to assume that he has superior technical knowledge to us.”

  “Have you physically searched the ship?”

  “We go out on patrol every single day in pairs.”

  “And do you randomly change the timing of where you go?” Waverly asked.

  Matt looked at her, blank.

  “If you want to catch him, your movements have to be unpredictable,” Waverly said, surprised Kieran hadn’t thought of this. “Also, you shouldn’t be talking or making any sound. If he can hear you coming, he’ll be able to get away easily.”

  Matt nodded, but he was clearly perturbed at being shown up. He looked at Waverly mistrustfully, and she figured he shared Kieran’s attitude about her.

  Alia leaned forward, a finger raised. “Have you located any campsites where he might be staying?”

  “Other than the engine room and maybe the lab, we haven’t located a single trace of him. We think he’s being more careful now, never staying in the same place twice.” Matt paused awkwardly, obviously hesitant to go on. The council waited in silence, all of them seeming to have the same instinct Waverly had, not to push him, not to ask for too much or he might clam up. “Actually, we’ve found a few spots, but all of them appear to be where Seth Ardvale has been camping.”

  “Where?” Sealy asked forcefully.

  “The conifer bay, the rain forest bay.”

  “How do you know those campsites belong to Seth and not the terrorist?” Melissa Dickinson asked, seeming embarrassed at the sound of her own voice.

  “Because we can backtrack and find video of Seth going there and leaving.”

  “Then why haven’t you caught him?” Sealy demanded. Ever since his fistfight in the brig with Seth, Sealy had it in for him.

  “There’s so much video footage to go through,” Matt said. “The surveillance system isn’t designed to search for fugitives. It’s really there for investigations into accidents or crimes that happen in a particular spot at a particular time, see. There are cameras all over the ship recording every crew member. We have to wade through all that material to find video of Seth.”

  “You should be focusing on the terrorist,” Waverly said a little too quickly. She ignored the curious glances sent her way. “How many people do you have on patrol?”

  “With six pairs of us, we’re able to cover the entire ship every day.”

  “That’s not enough people,” Waverly said, throwing up her hands. “You need more Command officers.”

  Matt ducked his chin. He didn’t respond, which Waverly took as tacit agreement.

  “Matt, I want you to get new recruits. Double your force. And when those search teams head out, they should include one experienced boy and one less-experienced”—she had a moment of inspiration—“girl. Recruit from the older girls. There’s no reason the Command officers should be all boys.”

  Matt clearly didn’t like
this idea, but he held his tongue.

  “That’s a good idea. I will volunteer,” Alia said with a smile at Matt.

  “Me too,” Melissa Dickinson piped up, this time without hesitation.

  “Matt, is there anything else you want to add?” Waverly asked. She felt she’d pushed him around a bit, and tried to make it up to him with a softer tone. “We’d appreciate anything you could tell us.”

  Matt’s jaw muscle worked for a few tense moments, but finally he came out with, “Kieran is a good leader. He’s done a magnificent job.”

  “Thank you, Matt,” Waverly said with a smile. “Can you send Sarek in next, please?”

  After Matt left the room, Waverly looked around the table at the council members. Melissa’s quick glance belied her placid expression; she seemed to have a fiery soul underneath her waifish, quiet exterior. Harvey Markem was gnawing at a cuticle, his eyes trained on the center of the table. He had a thick smattering of orange freckles across his nose, and though he was brawny from his work on the farms, his face had the softness of a little boy’s. Next to Harvey, Alia looked like a Moorish princess, with her thick long black hair and olive skin. Waverly was glad to have her quiet strength on the council. Sealy was staring darkly out the window, his wiry light brown hair standing up in messy whorls. Waverly thought it strange he was elected to the council at all, considering he’d been one of Seth’s main henchmen. She hoped his election meant there was an undercurrent of sympathy for Seth among the crew.

  Everyone straightened in their chairs when Sarek came in looking sullen and wary. He didn’t even wait for any questions; he just marched to an empty chair, sat down with a thunk, and launched into a speech.

  “Look, I’ve been working with Kieran for months in Central Command, and he’s the only one who could have pulled this crew together.” He looked around the room at each person in turn, but he rested his eyes on Waverly for the next part: “I know some of you have doubts about his religious side, but I think after so many kids lost their parents, they needed something like that. Otherwise they would have just sunken into despair.”

  Waverly looked thoughtfully at Sarek. She realized how intelligent he was, and she even felt herself being persuaded a little. She found it within herself to say, “You’re probably right about that, Sarek.”

  He looked at her with surprise, then his forehead creased with tension. He looked as though a small battle were raging within him. Maybe he wanted to talk to the council, but his loyalty to Kieran was stopping him. She’d have to be gentle with him.

  “Is there anything you’d like to report?” she asked softly.

  He shook his head doubtfully.

  She studied him and took a shot in the dark. “Any news from the New Horizon?”

  His eyes darted up, and he seemed to hold his breath.

  “Sarek, you have to tell us anything you know,” Waverly said. The rest of the council watched him, waiting for him to speak.

  “About two weeks ago…” he began. He closed his mouth again, his eyes on his hands, which were clenched together on the table in front of him. Finally he took a deep breath and said, “Anne Mather hailed the ship, and Kieran had a private conversation with her.”

  Alia gasped at hearing the name. Melissa Dickinson blanched. Waverly wiped a damp palm on her soft cotton pants.

  “Do you know what they talked about?” Waverly asked quietly.

  “She wants a peace treaty,” Sarek said, looking shamefaced. “She wants Kieran to watch some videos about something to do with Captain Jones, and then she’ll discuss releasing the hostages. I mean … our parents.”

  The room was silent with anguish.

  “And has Kieran…,” Waverly said, then took a deep breath to steady the shaking of her voice. “Has Kieran complied with Mather’s wishes?”

  “I don’t know,” Sarek said. “He hasn’t talked to her since then.”

  “That you know of?”

  “I have full access to the central com station on this vessel. No transmission occurs without my being able to find out about it.”

  “And since the attack in the auditorium?” Alia asked. She seemed just as upset as Waverly felt. Hearing mention of Mather’s name seemed to bring it all back: the strange puritan customs, Mather’s coded language, being drugged, having her ova harvested without her consent. It was the kind of violation that never heals. “Have we heard anything more from Anne Mather?”

  “No,” Sarek said, “but … I wouldn’t be surprised if we did hear from her soon.”

  The council received this with grave silence.

  “It seems Mather has given us an opportunity,” Alia ventured. “We have been pursuing the New Horizon for months with no progress. Perhaps if we seem willing to play her game, we could get close to her.”

  The rest of the council looked at her.

  “I think that’s what Kieran was trying to decide,” Sarek said.

  “All on his own,” Waverly said bitterly, then wished she hadn’t. Sarek looked at her distrustfully. She needed to keep comments like that to herself if she wanted his cooperation.

  “Do you have those videos?” Sealy asked. His gray eyes were trained on Sarek. Clearly he was less forgiving of the secrecy Sarek had participated in than the other council members were. Hearing his forceful tone made Waverly realize she was angry, too. She should have known Mather had contacted Kieran. The whole crew should have known.

  “I saved a copy of Mather’s transmission,” Sarek said.

  “We’re going to need to see it,” Harvey Markem said. It was the first time he’d spoken. Because Harvey had been one of the guards watching over Seth in the brig, Waverly hadn’t been sure of where his loyalty lay—with Kieran or with the council. Now it seemed clear that he was willing to stand up to Kieran. “Can you get the video for us so we can watch it?” he asked Sarek.

  For the first time in a long time, Waverly felt hopeful. This council was exactly what had been needed all along.

  “I’m not sure I can do that,” Sarek said slowly.

  “What?” Melissa Dickinson squeaked. “If you have anything at all that might bring us closer to our parents, you’ve got to give it up!”

  “Kieran kept it to himself for a reason,” Sarek said. “I’ve already said much more than I think he would want. I won’t do this to him.”

  A general outcry sounded in the room, but Waverly held up a hand. “Hey, hey! Wait!” The protests died down, and the council looked at Waverly. “Sarek’s right. Kieran is the elected Captain, and we should respect his authority.”

  All doubt about her seemed to wipe free from Sarek’s face, and he even smiled a little as he looked at her. She had his trust, at least for now.

  “Kieran should be well enough soon that we can get his permission.”

  “I don’t want to negotiate with that woman,” Alia said, her velvety voice suddenly cold and rigid.

  “We’re not giving her a single thing she wants,” Waverly spat fiercely. “But we can make her think we’re willing to play by her rules.”

  This seemed to catch everyone’s full attention, and the room grew even quieter, so that Waverly’s next words carried extra meaning.

  “We’ll act like we want to work with her,” Waverly said grimly. “Then we’ll kill her.”

  THE OBSERVATORY

  Seth missed Waverly. He was curled up against a warm exhaust vent in the atmospheric conditioning bay, letting the heat permeate the terrible ache in his ribs. He needed a soft bed and warm meals, but he’d get none of that. Waverly had been dropping off sandwiches and cold salads for him daily in their designated spots. Yesterday she’d left him a chicken sandwich and some plums just inside the door on level 15 of the outer starboard staircase. The meal had nearly frozen solid by the time he picked it up, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. He could subsist on what grew in the biosphere bays, but none of it satisfied him for long.

  His stomach rumbled. Only another few minutes before she left him some dinn
er in the observatory. It was a domed glass room, so it was always pretty cold, and no one ever went there—a good place to store food. He should try to rest until it was time to go.

  But he couldn’t turn off his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the stowaway. There’d been some new attack, he knew. He’d caught little snatches of conversations, whenever crew members passed by his hiding places. Though he didn’t know the details, it was clear the crew seemed even more scared than before. He wished he could make sure Waverly was okay, but the only indication of her well-being was the meals she left for him. Maybe with the next one there would be a note.

  He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. An image of Waverly passed before him, the way she smiled at him, never an open smile, more like the smile of someone who is trying not to smile. It was his goal to get a real smile out of her someday. He wanted to see what she looked like when she was happy.

  She was probably on her way to the observatory with his food right now. The observatory had always been where the kids on the Empyrean went for dates. The view was the same as out any porthole, but it was a quiet place where couples could have a little privacy in the darkness. Did it mean something that Waverly had chosen it as a drop-off place? He told himself no. The observatory had been all but abandoned, now that there were no adults on the vessel and the kids could go anywhere they wanted to be alone. The only reason anyone would ever go there now would be for maintenance on the forward sensor array, which hardly ever needed maintenance at all.

  Seth opened his eyes.

  In a flash, he knew how the stowaway was communicating with the New Horizon.

  The forward array was the long-range detection device that helped the nav system make course corrections to avoid objects in space. It worked by sending out high-density electromagnetic bursts and recording when the light was reflected off an object. It could be easily modified to send out and receive encrypted voice signals. The main controls for it were in Central Command, but there was a manual station in the prow of the ship meant for maintenance.