by Delia Roan
Fortunately, Jahle’s attention was on the path, and he did not notice her wince.
Gotta get that checked out.
And fast.
The further they traveled, the wider the tunnel grew. The ground began to slope upwards, and Mel found herself panting, trying to catch her breath as her fever began to grow. Her eyes felt gritty and her tongue dry. She stopped to drink from her canteen, hoping the cool water would soothe her parched throat.
She was returning the canteen to her pack when she spotted a familiar looking hole in the wall.
“Ugh,” she said, tightening her grip on the sonar evaluator. “Borebugs.”
Jahle studied the openings. “Large ones. But we have nothing to fear. If you spot one, fire the evaluator.”
“Why wait?” she said, raising the evaluator. “Let’s send them packing now.”
“Wait.” Jahle grabbed her arm. “Don’t fire the evaluator unless you must. It sends information back to a computer in Dogan’s possession.”
Mel’s eyebrows raised as understanding dawned. “Oh! That’s what Dogan was talking about. Messages. From you. He meant the info the gun was sending. Not actual messages.” She laughed and leaned her forehead against his chest. “I thought-”
“You thought I betrayed you.”
“No!” She dropped her hand and stepped back to study his face. “I mean, maybe? I guess, for a while there, I thought you were helping…”
Jahle’s jaw tightened. “Dogan is my brother. I owe him much. I love him deeply. But on this matter. On kidnapping you and your sister to use as tools against the Cadam. On this, I do not agree with him.”
“I know. I-”
“Do you condone everything your sister does?”
“No. Jenna is her own person. If she listened to me, she would be a happier person, true, but she is her own person.”
“It is the same with my brother, except I am indirectly responsible for his behavior, since I am his honor guard.”
She threw her hands into the air. “You keep saying that but I don’t get it! What does that mean?”
“It means I am to guide him. He has strayed. His hot-head needs cooling. I must help him find the way back to his honor. Do you understand that with your feeble human brain?”
“What?” Her nostrils flared.
“Understand?” He sounded out each syllable, as if speaking with a child. In her ear, the translator’s robotic intonation added an extra layer of insult.
“I really don’t,” she snapped back. “I don’t get why you have to drag yourself down to his level. Your brother is a jerk.”
“Yes, but he is my brother.” Jahle spun around and marched away, followed by Mel’s growl of frustration.
“You are so bone-headed!” she yelled at his back. “A bone-headed numbskull!”
It’s like he does everything in his power to piss me off.
“I can’t believe I ever thought you were nice,” she muttered. “Mr. Nice Guy, my ass.” She scowled down the borebug tunnel, daring one of the creatures to emerge, so she could vent her anger on it.
With a grunt, she followed him, but slower, giving herself plenty of time to stew in her own annoyance.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JAHLE
He had done it again.
He had softened to her, lured in by the magic of her touch, of her smile. She left him wanting to share his heart with her. That would never do. So he had provoked her into anger, pushing her pride until she drew her anger around her and pushed back.
Pushed away.
She is wrong about Dogan.
His brother might have been misguided, but he only acted out of his sense of honor. He wanted to do right by Geran and its people. To redeem the names of their parents and bring back the glory of Geran. No, Jahle couldn’t fault him for that. It was his methods Jahle couldn’t agree with.
She is wrong about Dogan, and she is wrong about me. I would never betray her.
Yet he had.
Why wouldn’t she believe that he was untrustworthy? After all, he had betrayed Dogan. The Water People. His family. His honor. Why not her as well?
Jahle slowed until Mel caught up with him, but he ignored her, staying a few steps ahead of her. He strained his ears, listening to her strained breathing, her staggering steps, and the way she stopped frequently to drink from her canteen.
She grows worse. We must hurry.
They marched on in tense silence.
“What’s that?” Mel pointed to a wide door.
“Elevator,” he replied.
“To the surface?”
He grunted. “Used to transport goods to the bio-domes.”
“Bio-domes?”
“Covered farms. They grew food.” He thought about his youngest sister Trinni, and the mud on the knees of her work overalls. “And flowers.”
He expected her to badger him with endless questions, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts. She fanned herself with a hand. “Is it getting hot in here?” She tipped her head. “Is that a breeze?”
He felt it too. Gentle enough to keep the dust down, but strong enough to brush his face with warm air. “We are nearing the spaceport. We should proceed with caution.”
“Is it really hot? Why is it so hot?” She pinched the front of her shirt and billowed it. “Is it just me?”
“No, a geothermal power station is located on the far side of the spaceport. It can get quite warm.”
The wind picked up the further along they traveled, making Mel’s hair move. She tucked her curls behind her ears, and Jahle resisted the urge to pull her locks back forward. Without the protective curtain of her hair, her face seemed even more pallid and drawn. The dark circles under her eyes made his throat close up with fear.
The dirt and rocks surrounding them switched to concrete, and then to sturdy bands of metal, corroded with rust. Ahead of them, the tunnel opened out to a wide cavern. Bright natural light flooded the space, and the breeze carried the sound of voices to them.
“Dogan?” Mel mouthed. Sweat dotted her brow.
Jahle nodded grimly, then gestured Mel to the side of the tunnel. They inched their way to the opening, and, hiding in the shadows, they peered around the edge of the wall.
Above them, the sun’s strength made it through the brownish cloud cover to provide a weak facsimile of a sunny day. The bright light illuminated the scene below. The path they followed sloped down into a valley dotted with space crafts.
While the platform could have held thousands of craft, only a handful rested on the concrete. Some were tilted, thrown to their sides. To Jahle’s horror, half the platform was gone, sheared away by earthquakes.
The geothermal tower that had stood at the far side of the spaceport had succumbed to the tectonic movement at some point, collapsing onto itself. Its pieces lay embedded in black volcanic rock, remains of the lava from which it had drawn power. As they watched, the ground trembled, and the surface of the rock cracked. In the gaps, they could see the hot orange of lava under the thin crust.
Mel gasped and pointed.
In the middle of a clear space sat three diggers in a rough circle. In the center huddled a handful of small figures. The largest of them had his arms wrapped around the rest, but from his coloring, Jahle could tell he was several years away from completing adolescence.
“Those are the Water kids,” Mel hissed. “That bastard Dogan took them hostage. Where are Kayef and Olex? Ketug?”
Jahle shook his head. He could not spy them anywhere.
“Is it a trap?”
He nodded. “Most definitely.”
“Do they know we’re here?”
He spotted a guard casually leaning on one of the diggers. “If so, they would be more alert. I believe we made good time.”
“Not good enough. They got here first.” Mel bit her lip. “What’s the plan?”
He surveyed the spaceport. “First, we get down there
unseen. We need to scout the ships. Find a functioning one.”
She nodded. “How do we rescue the kids?”
“Do not fret.” He spoke with more conviction than he felt. “I have a plan.”
They doubled back and Jahle consulted the navigator’s cube. The map showed an access path running beside the main tunnel. It opened below, close to the ships.
Mel grinned. “Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy!”
She wasn’t grinning when they spotted more borebug holes in the access tunnel.
“They are drawn to the heat,” Jahle said.
“Right, right,” Mel said, clutching her sonar evaluator. She pointed the barrel down every tunnel they crossed.
Halfway along the path, she froze, her eyes wide. Jahle peered around her shoulder. In the dim light of her shoulder lamps, Jahle spotted the chitinous back of a borebug. It was curled into a tight ball, but even as they watched, its legs twitched.
Mel waved the sonar evaluator, but Jahle shook his head. He tapped his fingers to his lips, and they sneaked away. Mel breathed a sigh of relief as they left the borebugs behind. When they reached the opening onto the platform, she trembled and puffed out her breath.
“I hate those things.” She wiped the sweat from her brow onto her sleeve. “Was it sleeping?”
“Probably in hibernation due to lack of food.”
He squinted down the platform, trying to ignore the shimmer in the air over the lava pool. Down here, the heat seemed to weigh down Mel. She panted, and licked her cracked lips. She leaned against the wall, and then straightened when the rock burned her. Her cheeks were bright pink, but her eyes were dull.
We must hurry.
“That one,” Jahle said, pointing to a spaceship nearby. It stood on all its legs, and the hull seemed unbroken. He prayed it was still flight-worthy.
“The one shaped like a Boston cream on toothpicks?”
“I don’t… Yes. That one,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “The leader weight on sticks.”
“Someday, I’ll introduce you to the joys of a good donut,” she muttered. “And pizza.”
They ducked and scurried toward their target, taking cover behind crates and broken ships. To Jahle’s relief, the door was on the far side, facing away from Dogan’s men. They sat for a moment, until the ground began to shake, then Jahle thumbed the door controls and waited for the hatch to open. The grumbling of the earth swallowed the sound of grinding gears.
They slipped inside. Jahle closed the door behind so nobody could surprise them. The stale air inside held the reek of mildew, but the coolness was a relief after the stifling environment outside.
“That’s better,” Mel said, though she wrinkled her nose against the smell. “It’s comfortable in here.”
“The ships are shielded for space travel,” Jahle said.
Her eyes moved over the stark interior. While the crafts were well-built, they were purely utilitarian, designed only to serve their purpose. The walls were brushed metal, cool to the touch. Ports high up in the walls allowed in a little light. No dust danced in the beams. Bands of color marked routes to various sections of the ship. Mel’s shoes squeaked against the smooth flooring, but his footsteps were silent.
Jahle followed the blue lines until they found themselves in a cockpit. A wide control panel spread across the front, but like the rest of the ship, the windows here were no larger than both of Jahle’s hands, and were set high in the wall.
Mel tipped her head. “How are you supposed to steer if you can’t see where you are going?”
Jahle sat down in the bucket seat and studied the controls for a moment. “These are transportation crafts. Designed for one purpose only. To leave. Let us see if it still functions.”
“You fly one of these before?”
“Of course not. However, my sister felt it a necessary part of a young prince’s education, especially in times of war.” He flicked a switch, and the control panel lit up with a hum.
So did Mel’s face. “Whoo-hoo! We’re in business!”
His hands danced across the control panel, checking each engine, checking the thrusters, and landing gear. The humming grew louder, and the ship began to vibrate gently, a sign that it was operational. Jahle leaned forward and tapped a screen. Letters danced across the surface, and he skimmed the details. He frowned. “Strange. This ship is scheduled to fly to… Cadam…”
“Cadam? Why there?”
He shook his head. “I do not know. I-”
A booming voice filled the air. “Brother! I can see you! Why don’t you come out and parlay with me?”
Dogan.
Jahle cursed. “I thought we would have more time.”
“What do we do?” Mel’s eyes were wide.
“Do you see this button?” He indicated a round button beside a green light.
“Yeah?”
“That is the takeoff button. The entire system is automated. Hit this button and the ship launches.”
“Me? What about you?”
“I must face Dogan.”
“I can help!” Mel thrust out her chin.
He stood and rested his hand on her shoulder. “You should leave while you still can.”
While there is hope of you finding medical attention.
She opened her mouth to argue, but Jahle bent down and kissed her. For a moment, he pushed away the world to enjoy the sweetness of her. He gently lowered her into the chair, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
The undeniable heat between them would just not work out. Reluctantly, he pulled away, detaching himself from her arms.
“Be safe,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Stay in the seat. It will protect you.”
Before she could reply, he hit the green button and took off along the ship at a sprint. She shouted his name, but he did not turn. He hopped down before the exterior hatch could fully open, and slammed the close button on his way out.
Goodbye, my love.
Save travels.
Sprinting across the concrete launch pad, he burst into the clearing where Dogan’s soldiers waited, surrounding the children. They looked up at his entrance with wide eyes, but he didn’t bother to give them any reassurance.
The only way to save them is to defeat Dogan.
And the only way to defeat Dogan…
Dogan stood atop his digger. He scanned the spaceport, his face dark. Searching for Mel?
Now was the time to act. Jahle turned to the closest guard. He kept his voice low, so Dogan would not hear. “Ashko, you have a choice here.”
Ashko shifted her weight, her wide face filled with confusion at Jahle’s words. “What?”
Jahle turned to the guard beside her. “Korrant, you know what is happening on Geran. We cannot live here.”
Korrant snorted. “Be serious, Jahle. You are going to die here.”
Jahle nodded. “Possibly. But you, and Ashko, and Mearl, do not need to die here. Neither do those children.” He jerked his chin to the ships behind him. “Those ships are functional. You could board them. Leave this planet…”
“Where is the girl?” boomed Dogan above him.
“Go now, while he’s distracted by me,” Jahle urged.
The guards shifted from foot to foot, shooting nervous glances at each other.
“Where would we go?” asked Ashko.
“Well?” Dogan crossed his arms over his chest. “Where have you hidden her?
“Anywhere but here,” Jahle whispered back. He kept his eyes fixed on Dogan.
“Go find her!” Dogan bellowed at the guards.
With one last look at Jahle, the three guards hustled away, leaving the children unattended. The oldest watched Jahle with wary eyes, but he remained unmoving.
Let us hope that when the time comes, they have the sense to run, Jahle thought.
Behind him, the ship roared, sending dust and debris flying as it rose into the air. Within a few seconds, the ship
was gone, blasted away from Geran.
Away from me.
“You are too late,” Jahle shouted to Dogan with a smile. “She has escaped.”
Dogan snarled. He hopped off the digger, landing in a crouch across the clearing from Jahle. When he rose, his face was unrecognizable, twisted with rage.
“Don’t do this brother,” Jahle called. “We can discuss this.”
But the black anger on Dogan’s face told him his brother was beyond the point of talking.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MELISSA
The ship blasted away, and Mel pressed herself to the wall of the closest ship, shielding her face from the swirling air it kicked up. She watched as it vanished into the haze above, resisting the sinking feeling in her heart.
If that ship worked, others should too.
The thought was comforting, but if Dogan or his goons caught her, she wouldn’t get a chance to find out.
Moments after Jahle had left her, she had followed. What else could she do? He couldn’t take on all the guards by himself. She could never leave the Water People’s children to their fate. Olex had wasted precious time and priceless equipment to help Mel. The least she could do was ensure the children were safe.
She followed the echoing of Dogan’s voice, trying to make it to the clearing without being spotted. She tallied her resources. Earlier he had sent his guards to find her, but it sounded like both Dogan and Jahle believed she had left Geran.
Okay, element of surprise. Check.
The sonar evaluator thunked against the hull of a ship. Mel winced.
Okay, this piece of crap. Check.
Too bad I don’t have a real gun.
She pushed away the negativity. No matter what she did or didn’t have, she still had her brain. She still had her wits. She still knew how to think.
Think, Mel, think.
The heat drained her energy. After the coolness of the ship’s interior it seemed to have doubled in strength. Her body shook, and she knew that with her fever, she wouldn’t be able to sustain any long-term effort. But she had to keep moving. She had to keep thinking.