Jeremiah nodded, but he was still worried. He’d gotten Corin out of the mill, but Corin had found a pile of textile projects at home and still hadn’t slept.
“Has he said anything?” Collette asked.
Jeremiah focused on breathing in and out in time with his footfalls. “He’s worried about something. About Festival. He keeps asking me to stay with him,” Jeremiah confessed.
“He’s asked me, too,” she said, giving him a wink when he looked surprised. “You thought you were special?”
“We’ve always assumed only the children of the Questre are cursed,” he said. “I thought maybe he’d seen something. That he had inherited your curse.”
“He saw something. Just not the future,” Collette said. She wasn’t puffing at all, but she’d always been better at long-distance running than him. “I think he’s upset because of that fire last Festival. That party at the Metallurgy manor.”
“He did say he gave his manor to the new Prince. It was a tragedy—the previous Prince dying. Was he close to her?” Jeremiah asked.
“He was heading there when the fire started. Thank goodness he was dragging his feet. The Prince of Health thinks he’s suffering survivor’s guilt. Eight dead, no IDs,” Collette said.
“Eight? I thought it was just the Prince and her family,” Jeremiah said, appalled. Their population had been shrinking over the past decade, despite adequate food, water, and wool. Their town wasn’t so large that eight people could go unidentified for six months. That spoke of hate crimes.
“There was no guest list? No one reported missing?” he asked, questions tumbling out. “Judith… I haven’t seen her around since—”
“Yes, you have,” Collette said. “She and her Fotri lover were lobbying for something just last month.”
“Don’t use that word,” he snapped. “Why do you hate them so much?”
“Because…” Collette muttered. “Festival is designed to help men and women cross-pair in a safe place, and the Fotri squander that every single time. They’re more concerned about being with each other than protecting the future of this city. It’s already miserable forcing women to be used for their wombs.”
“I didn’t realize you felt that way about Festival,” he said, cringing sympathetically. Their eldest was a Festival baby, and he’d celebrated the boy’s birth. He’d never thought of his Festival partner as an unwilling womb, and now he wondered if that was why she’d been so eager to let Jeremiah and Collette have the baby. “I thought you hated Fotri because … well, there’s that conspiracy that they’re all Questre, hiding among us, avoiding having children so they won’t make more cursed.”
Collette didn’t answer and he realized that she was no longer beside him. Slowing his pace, he looked back. Collette had fallen to her knees, gasping.
“Collette!”
“Did you feel that!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide and red, like she’d been hit with pepper spray. Her hands went to her neck, like she was choking, but then she lowered them to her chest.
“Feel what?” he asked, shielding her body in case someone had attacked her in the twilight. The Prince of Law had warned them not to run this path. She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes, her chin tilted skyward as she homed in on the feeling. Her cheeks were more flushed than they’d been a moment ago.
“Something is… coming,” she said, squeezing his hand.
“What is it? A premonition?” he asked. He’d never seen one hit her so strongly. “Did something attack you from above?”
“Travelers. From the sky,” she gasped. “It’s not space debris I saw. It’s a spaceship!”
“Spaceship?” Jeremiah asked. When they were children, airships had come to their dome from the east, but they’d left shortly after and hadn’t returned since. They’d never had visitors from space!
“I don’t know where from,” she said, opening her eyes and smiling weakly. “If we race to the end of the dome, maybe we can see them fly in.”
“Collette, you don’t know the timing. Your vision may not come true for years,” he said.
“Now. It’s happening now,” she insisted. Collette was still on her knees, fighting to catch her breath, and he worried that she was hiding more health concerns from him than an age spot and a few gray hairs.
“Then maybe the Magistrates should return to the Palace to greet them,” he pointed out. She laughed incorrigibly. He shook his head at her. “I’m not usually the responsible one.”
“Then you won’t stop me,” she grinned.
Danny rubbed his chest, feeling the twinge of depression drawing him back to bed. He’d taken medication; he’d tried therapy. But he still felt overwhelmed by the myriad problems swirling around as they approached landing. There was so much to keep track of, Danny wasn’t sure how he’d ever managed with a crew of only four. Although, the four had been relatively healthy with half the personal traumas.
Launching the Bobsled from the bay would have worked better if they’d been coasting across the continent around five thousand feet, like the last time Danny and Amanda had done it. Danny hadn’t thought about the depressurization of the bay at higher altitude, and every calculation he made showed the maneuver to be completely impractical. He sat at the middle console on the bridge, frowning at the fuel estimate readings on the engineering workstation and keeping an eye on Sky’s vitals.
Chase piloted one-handed from the captain’s chair, using the heads-up display to home in on their projected target, while Amanda ran a simulator at the pilot’s station. The Kessler cloud obscured the planet’s surface and the signals from Quin and Terrana were becoming less precise, compounding the uncertainty he felt about their course.
“I’m just saying, I think you should land the ship,” Chase argued for the umpteenth time. “You have more experience flying over weird terrains.”
“I’ve experienced it. I don’t have experience,” Danny corrected, smiling to himself. With Chase’s gimped hand and Amanda’s concussion, there was no question that Danny would fly them down. “Since the rivers aren’t mapped, we should scope out the terrain and land vertically.”
“Vertical landings are a trick, not a feature on this ship,” Chase said. He didn’t like flying the way Amanda did. For him, it was a means to an end—a way to get away. His right hand twitched nervously against his chest. “Unless Sky’s awake, you’re not going to have grav-propulsion.”
“You don’t need grav-propulsion to do it. I thought you two were running simulations,” Danny said. None of their simulations included using the grav-drive for propulsion.
“We’re running simulations on getting the Bobsled away. Every time I try it, I blow up both ships. Amanda was having better luck not destroying Oriana,” Chase said.
“No, I got it,” Amanda spoke up, resetting the simulator and starting again. “I got everyone safely to ground the last two tries.”
“What are our chances outside of a simulator?” Danny asked, hope swelling.
“Depends on how windy it is below the clouds. If we were landing in Quin, at least we’d know the weather conditions,” she frowned. Her eye twitched, fine-tuning the Occ that corrected her vision. “And if you ever plan on taking off again. There’s no fuel left once we’re down safely.”
Her words confirmed Danny’s reservations.
“There’s also a chance the glider tethers will break when the bay depressurizes, it will be sucked out of the bay, destroy our airlock, and take out the Bobsled with it,” Amanda continued.
“Well, that sounds fun,” Tray said dryly, coming down the hall.
“Tray, I’m sorry,” Danny said. “We are trying.”
“Everyone get their g-pills,” Tray announced, holding up tabs and water. The g-pills were a special blend of salt and other nutrients that helped their bodies transition from micro-g to gravity and were part of Tray’s landing checklist. Danny and Amanda turned and caught the water bottles that Tray pushed across the room, but Chase didn’t turn.
“I’m not thirs
ty,” Chase said.
“Finish it. You don’t need a dehydration headache,” Danny said, swallowing the tab and chugging the water quickly. He motioned Amanda out of the pilot’s chair and took over flying so that Chase would have a hand free. “Start drinking. Timing is important.”
Amanda sipped at her water, holding the tab between her fingers and using the Occ to examine it. “Did Morri say it was okay?”
“It’s mostly salt, so you can absorb the water faster,” Tray said. Chase popped the pill and chugged, moving his hand to brace one end of the bottle. His fingers looked swollen and Danny wasn’t sure if it was from injury or lack of gravity.
Amanda hovered behind Danny’s chair. “I can get you home. Just not the rest of us,” Amanda told Tray, rubbing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her temple like her head hurt. She tapped the Occ and closed her eyes for a second, waiting for it to do something.
“I understand,” Tray said. “If Saskia can’t get the Bobsled working, it’s moot anyway.”
“What’s wrong with the ‘sled?” Chase asked.
“Sky did something to the software, probably so we couldn’t take control of the ‘sled and bring her back. When I hacked in, it shut down. I think the whole system committed software suicide,” Tray said, tugging the ends of his hair. “I guess we’re all going to Cordova.”
“Tray, I—”
“It’s okay, Danny. I never wanted to be a dad anyway,” Tray muttered, flying out of the room before any more emotion could surface. Amanda started to follow.
“Just leave him be, Amanda,” Danny said. A part of him was glad Tray conceded to staying, but he felt guilty for being glad.
Amanda rubbed her head with the heel of her hand. “I need Morri. This head bump is making my vision blurry,” she murmured, leaving both the salt tab and water behind.
“So, you’re gonna land the ship, right?” Chase said nervously.
“Always planned to,” Danny said. “Tray usually brings the pills, then straps right in before things get bumpy.”
“It won’t be as bumpy if you land,” Chase pointed out. “He’s probably sharing a seat with Saskia, taking advantage of all the heat of re-entry, if you know what I mean.”
Danny snorted at the joke.
9
Morrigan floated next to the counter in the medical bay, trying to ignore the shaking of the ship long enough to quell her turning stomach and focus on the readouts of her instruments. This ship needed a psychiatrist as much as a medical doctor. Not one of the crew had avoided PTSD, and it manifested in different ways in each. She had been reluctant to let Amanda out of the infirmary, and she’d told Danny that under no circumstances should Amanda be allowed to land them.
Hawk was tethered to Sky, talking to her. When he’d run out of things to say, he started playing a game and telling her about his progress. His back arched occasionally, and his eyes squeezed shut. He said Sky glowed red sometimes and it made his spirit eyes tingle. Morrigan would have pegged it as a hallucination if she hadn’t witnessed his power firsthand. It frightened her to know there was a whole piece of the universe affecting her life that she couldn’t sense or control. Her family fortune was built on the blood of his kind, and she still didn’t understand his power.
“Hawk, we have to strap in for landing,” Morrigan said, turning off her console. She was not built for space travel. Maybe the people of Cordova would be nice and let her practice medicine there.
Hawk turned his head and stopped speaking. “The numbers are changing,” he said, pointing to the monitor over Sky’s head.
“Yes, they would. She’s probably entering a REM cycle,” Morrigan said, floating over. Seeing people sleep in micro-g seemed to accentuate the helplessness of the state.
“Hawk, time to wake her,” Danny vrang.
“I see,” Hawk whispered, failing to activate his Virp to transmit the response.
“Captain, her stats are normal; let her sleep,” Morrigan said.
“Morrigan, wake her now. And make sure Amanda is someplace else when you do,” Danny ordered. “She’s coming to you with a headache. Amanda, that is. She hasn’t had a g-pill yet.”
Morrigan wrinkled her nose, but Hawk was worried and submissive enough to obey. After six hours, Morrigan hadn’t found anything special about the ‘medicine’ that Danny had injected Sky with. The leaf wasn’t poisonous or edible, but maybe its potency was another one of those spirit things she couldn’t quantify. Maybe he’d learned about it from his mother back when she trafficked hybrids. Her father and his mother had been partners at the time. Morrigan wished she knew more about their family business.
Hawk shook Sky’s shoulder and Sky’s heart rate sky-rocketed. She flailed and screeched, like she was fighting off an attacker. Hawk tried to calm her and when she noticed him, she grabbed his shirt.
“Your hair,” she rasped, her eyes getting wide.
“What about it?” Hawk asked, touching his fine, red hair.
“Did we do it? Did we save them?” she asked.
“Crew’s okay, if that’s what you mean. I sealed the bay,” he replied.
“Rocan! Did we save Rocan?” she asked, fumbling for the restraints on her bed.
Hawk looked uncertainly at the Virclutch in his hand. “We did in the game. You said talking helped, so I was telling you about the game. I didn’t mean to give you a bad dream.”
“John!” she cried, straining against the bed restraints. John was the name of Hawk’s adoptive father, back in Rocan. He was the last person she’d slept next to.
“Bébé, you’ve only been asleep for a few hours,” Hawk said. “The medicine the captain gave you was wearing off, and it was time to wake you.”
“I voted to let you sleep in,” Morrigan added. “I’ll get you a g-pill. We’re about to land.”
“I have to get back. I have to save John!” Sky said, her cheeks getting red. She closed her eyes and her airways closed, triggering even more alarms.
“Morrigan!” Danny hollered over the Vring.
“What do you want! She’s awake!” Morrigan hollered back, scrambling for a nebulizer that might work in micro-g. “Hawk, I need you to open her mouth.”
“Three minutes to gravity,” Tray called. “Strap in. End of speech.”
“Sky, open your eyes!” Hawk instructed, gingerly lifting Sky’s eyelids. Sky’s vitals were erratic. Morrigan injected her with a steroid then held the nebulizer over Sky’s lips. Sky spat it out.
“Give me more,” she said. “I need more.”
Morrigan tried the nebulizer again, but Sky shook her head, making a motion for a jet. She didn’t need more steroids.
“Two minutes to gravity,” Tray announced.
“Where’s Danny?” she gasped, getting tangled in her own limbs.
“On the bridge,” Hawk said. “Sky, we’re landing. Just sit tight.”
“Landing where? Where are we? When?” Sky took off and Hawk chased after her.
“Hawk, get your feet on the floor!” Morrigan called following them into the hall. Amanda gripped a handrail just over the door, eyes squeezed shut, body tense.
“Amanda,” Morrigan said, catching the woman in her arms. “Sweetheart, gravity’s coming. Let’s have you seated this time.”
Amanda moaned in Terranan, rubbing her arm over her eyes like she had a migraine. The rotation of patients continues, Morrigan thought, ushering Amanda into the infirmary and dimming the lights. She pushed Amanda to the table and strapped her down quickly, knowing that time was short.
“Open your eyes,” Morrigan said, ripping her penlight from the fastener on the wall. “Is it just a headache or are you dizzy, too?”
“One minute to gravity,” Tray said
Morrigan tensed, trying to direct her feet to the ground. She wanted to be seated, but she needed to know Amanda would survive the landing first. Amanda blinked tears from her eyes, then tapped the Occ to deactivate it. Without the Occ, the whites of her eyes looked red and bloodshot.
Morrigan shone her light, then expanded to do a quick scan for dangerous blood clots. Amanda flinched, but at least she wasn’t having an aneurysm.
“Watch my fingers,” Morrigan said, holding up two fingers and moving them side-to-side. By the way Amanda’s gaze darted about, she was seeing plenty, fending off a hallucination. Morrigan had been expecting fireworks once they hit gravity, and it seemed unfair to have them start now.
“Do you see me?” Morrigan asked, tapping the corner of the Occ to activate it. Amanda’s pupils expanded and contracted, then the red in her eyes slowly faded to white, concealed by the Occ.
Amanda whispered something unintelligible, gripping Morrigan’s hand, even though her eyes never seemed to look directly at Morrigan. “Tray gave me a g-pill. Smell triggered something. I think. I feel a hybrid.”
“Not Hawk, I take it,” Morrigan said. Amanda shook her head and rubbed her eyes, squirming against the bed restraints and moaning about the smell. It’s never as simple as a headache.
“Gravity,” Tray announced.
Morrigan felt it a few seconds after the announcement. Her feet hit the ground softly as they experienced the first pull of the planet. The weight on her feet seemed to grow exponentially by the second after that and she squatted next to the bed, holding on for support. Saskia had landed without strapping in hundreds of times. The captain, too. Taking a deep breath, she tried to anticipate the turns of the ship. The gravity was getting harder to fight and eventually she let go of the bed and knelt on the floor. The gravity that she hadn’t given a passing thought to while growing up now seemed to be crushing her. When she cried, the tears rolled off her cheek, responding to the gravity. Morrigan grabbed the base of the bed and held on.
“Gravity.”
Danny sucked his cheeks in, wishing his brother were announcing their steady descent from his usual seat. Chase sat at the engineering console, poking one-handed at the controls as Danny flew, but for the most part, Danny was on his own.
“I’ve pinpointed a new transmission near our target,” Tray said. “Sounds like a music broadcast.”
Premonition: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 7) Page 6