Jordan

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Jordan Page 15

by Susan Kearney


  “I just saved your life—”

  “Which was only in danger because I had to delay my entrance to push you inside.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to push me, if I hadn’t strained my arm saving you from that boulder.”

  “I would have shifted out of the way. I didn’t need you to—”

  “Right.” She shoved him off her. “You can do everything alone. Fly through hurricanes. Find the key and the Grail. And you know what? You can damn well sleep alone, too.”

  “Hey—that was your idea.”

  “A bad one.” She ground her teeth together.

  The airlock recycled and she stepped out, refusing to look at him.

  Gray glanced from one angry face to the other. “Did you get the key?”

  “Yes,” Jordan said.

  “Then install the Staff. Our orbit’s deteriorating. You two can kill each other later.”

  Never live for someone else’s dream.

  —LADY OF THE LAKE

  20

  After checking the bridge and learning Tennison was at the helm and ready to take them out of danger the moment the power kicked in, Vivianne headed to her cabin. She was certain after Jordan installed the Staff he would go to the bridge, and she wanted to check the communicator in the cabin and be gone before he arrived.

  She opened the cabin door and George raced to her, stood on his hind legs, and demanded petting. It was nice to be appreciated, and she petted him, then tried to step inside the cabin. “Down, boy.”

  When he didn’t listen, she bent, scooped him into her arms, then slid behind the desk. As she settled George in her lap, the Draco’s power kicked in.

  After opening the monitor’s side panel, she adjusted the circuitry. Had Maggie received the first message? Had she secured Vivianne’s spare unit?

  Vivianne let the unit warm up, then fiddled with the controls. “Maggie, are you listening? Talk to me.”

  Vivianne hit the toggle and scratched George behind the ears, welcoming his warmth. “It’s okay, fella. We have to be patient. Maybe she’s sleeping.” Maybe the system wasn’t working. Or maybe there weren’t any hyperspace wormholes within range of the Draco for the messages to pass through. Space wasn’t stable. Or predictable.

  Vivianne tried the unit again, and again received no reply. She was about to give up when she heard Maggie’s excited voice. “Vivianne, is that really you?”

  Hot damn. Her machine was working. And there wasn’t any delay—even with light-years of distance. Amazing. “Yes, it’s really me.”

  “Have you found the Holy Grail?” Maggie asked.

  Vivianne frowned. “Not yet.”

  “The whole world knows your mission now. When you blasted off, the government announced how the Draco is going to save us all.”

  “Oh.” She recalled their departure and the North American States threatening to shoot them down. Now they probably wanted to take credit if the Draco succeeded.

  “Are you close to finding it?” Maggie pressed.

  “We’re working on it. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “We’re under martial law.”

  “Why?” Vivianne’s stomach lurched. Had the Tribes already attacked? Were they too late?

  “The politicians are telling us the lockdown is for our own protection.” Maggie sighed. “Maybe it is.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Rumor has it that the Tribes are about to strike Earth. Scratch that. It’s no longer rumor but headline news. And it’s crazy here. People are looting and hoarding food, fuel, cigarettes, and alcohol. A loaf of bread costs a week’s pay. Yesterday there was a mass suicide—hundreds killed themselves preferring death to alien domination. People think they’re going to die, so they do whatever they please. It’s too dangerous to go out. The police can’t keep up. The world is close to anarchy.”

  Vivianne’s pulse raced. “Have there been any real attacks?”

  “By the Tribes? No. But Iran’s invaded Iraq. India’s invaded Pakistan. North Korea took over the south, and Alaska is trying to secede. The major powers are doing nothing to stop the rampant violence. People are accusing their neighbors of being part of the Tribes. Everyone’s suspect.”

  Vivianne tried to get a handle on the scope of the problem. “Are you talking about isolated incidents or—”

  “I saw a man on the news lynched last night—in Beverly Hills.”

  Vivianne swallowed hard. If they made it back to Earth, they’d return to a different world. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, but getting your little machine home was tricky. I was lucky no one stopped me or accused me of conspiring with the enemy. Or of being the enemy.”

  “Maggie, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be in danger. Call my office. Have them send over twenty-four-hour protection. Or better yet, take your husband and kids to my headquarters. It’s vital that you monitor that machine twenty-four/seven.”

  Vivianne’s top people knew Maggie was her friend. They’d do as Maggie asked.

  “All right. And thanks.” Maggie lowered her voice as if she feared being overheard. “Vivianne, people are saying it’s the end of the world.”

  “They’re panicking.”

  “Their panic is scaring me more than the Tribes. I didn’t know civilization could fall apart so fast. Kids aren’t going to school or to piano lessons or baseball practice. It’s not safe to go to work. We’ve actually boarded up the sliding-glass doors to prevent anyone from seeing us eat. They might kill us for our food.”

  “Where are our government leaders?”

  “Watching after their own asses. Probably holed up in some cushy underground bunker with twenty years of food and the military to protect them against the masses. Yesterday, we had a major brownout. If the power goes down, we’ll lose what little food we have in the freezer.”

  Vivianne’s stomach danced up her throat. “We have food and a generator at Vesta’s Headquarters. Get over there now.”

  The sounds of gunshots traveled through the communicator. Maggie lowered her voice. “It’s not safe to go at night. But tomorrow, we’ll do as you say.”

  “Good. And once you’re there, have my people build more communicators ASAP. I want two units in every Vesta headquarters, so that once we have a plan we can coordinate our efforts. Make sure Lucan gets one, and tell him to use Stonehenge to transport units to Rion on Honor and Cael’s people on Pendragon. We need all the allies we can get.”

  “I’ll try. But I don’t know if the transporter’s operational—”

  Vivianne heard the sounds of breaking glass, a child crying, then more gunshots. She bit her lip, waited, prayed her friend was all right. “Maggie, are you still there?”

  Maggie whispered, “I’ve got to go.”

  The communicator went dead. Again Vivianne waited, hoping Maggie would come back to assure her she was all right. But she never did.

  George let out a low growl just before someone tried to open the cabin door. Vivianne scooted George to the floor, flipped back the panel, and turned off her communicator. She yanked open the door, expecting Jordan to be standing there with a scowl and demanding why she’d locked him out.

  But it was Knox. She held out a sandwich and a cup of coffee. “Thought you might be hungry.”

  “Thanks.” Vivianne sipped her coffee, welcoming the heat and comfort.

  “Are you okay?” Knox asked.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because Jordan is in a mood. Edgy. Dark. And he wants you on the bridge,” Knox added.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Knox wrinkled her nose. “He said something about picking up some strange energy signal.”

  “I’ll go to the bridge as soon as I eat.”

  Knox lowered her voice. “I’ve seen Jordan handle much worse emergencies without… well… Look, I heard you two had a fight.”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  “If you want to talk—”

  Alarms blared.


  Now what? She shoved her coffee into Knox’s hand. Eating on the run took on a new meaning as Vivianne dashed from the cabin.

  “Vi, I need you here.” Jordan’s voice came through her handheld and urged her into a full-fledged run.

  She skidded onto the bridge, sandwich still in her hand.

  The moment she arrived, Jordan spun around, his hands on his hips, his face hard, his eyes suspicious. “Do you know anything about these peculiar frequency spikes?”

  Clearly, he was still angry with her over what had happened back on Tempest, but they had to put it aside. They needed to work together.

  She glanced at the streaming data. “Why are you asking me about the spikes?”

  “Because you’re the communications expert, and the last time we read that kind of energy, a wormhole opened up off the bow.”

  “And those cubes found us,” she whispered, her stomach sinking.

  His tone was harsh. “Your prototype, did you just use it again?”

  “Yes.” Vivianne squared her shoulders. “Maggie answered me. It works.”

  Jordan raked his fingers through his hair. “So your experiment probably caused the energy spikes.”

  “I couldn’t have known… The prototype’s not designed to open a wormhole, just find existing ones.”

  “But the cubes may have homed in on your signal, tracked us, then opened their own wormhole.”

  “It’s possible,” she admitted, sliding into the communications seat and studying the readings.

  “Captain.” Gray interrupted Jordan’s stare. “Something’s coming through the wormhole.”

  “Raise shields,” Jordan ordered.

  “Get us the hell out of here,” Vivianne added.

  There is music in space, but to hear it you must be still.

  —ANONYMOUS

  21

  Full reverse,” Jordan ordered.

  Tennison was one step ahead of him, kicking the power into overdrive. As Jordan waited to see what would emerge from hyperspace, his glance fell on Vivianne.

  Vi was clearly upset, still furious with him over what had happened between them in the airlock. Maybe that was for the best.

  Vivianne wasn’t looking at him. Hadn’t shared her conversation with her friend, and her reticence bothered him on several levels. First, their chances of finding the last key and the Grail were slim enough if they worked together and shared information. Second, whatever she was keeping from him might prove to be important. And third, she was too smart to have her working against him.

  “Sensor readings indicate three objects approaching fast,” Gray reported.

  Lyle walked onto the bridge, took one look at the viewscreen, and turned pale. “Those machines are coming back after us. I should have shot them all down the first time.”

  “Maybe Trendonis tracked us through hyperspace,” Sean suggested.

  Vivianne’s eyes narrowed. “No one is to fire any weapons without a direct order.”

  “Wormhole’s ejecting,” Tennison said. Three cubes flew out.

  Vivianne gasped, then her gaze flew to meet Jordan’s. “Are those the exact same machines that surrounded us last time?”

  Trendonis was out there hunting them, but Jordan didn’t know if the advancing spacecraft were under his control. He turned to his crew. “How’s the power?”

  “Steady, but—” Tennison squinted at his data as if he couldn’t believe his readings.

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” Gray said.

  “What?” Lyle’s face went from pale to white.

  Darren’s voice came over the speakers, “Engines are starting to overheat.”

  Gray explained. “Power and engines are working perfectly, but we are at a full stop.”

  “How is that possible?” Vivianne asked.

  “Power down,” Jordan ordered. Obviously retreat wasn’t an option, and he’d prefer not to drain the Staff. “If we can’t escape, there’s no reason to risk blowing the engines.”

  “I’ll open a channel.” Vi placed the headset over her ears. “Maybe we can find out what they want.”

  “Put them on the speakers,” Jordan ordered.

  She flipped the toggle switch without hesitation. “Hello. Can anyone hear me?”

  Jordan shot her a thumbs-up. She nodded, but there was a distance in her eyes, a barrier she’d put up.

  “You will follow us.” The alien voice sounded mechanical.

  Vivianne paused for a moment. “Follow you where?”

  Jordan held his breath, waiting for a response. But they didn’t reply.

  Instead, the machines surrounded the Draco.

  “Here we go again,” Gray muttered.

  “Power status?” Jordan asked

  “It’s ramping back up.” Gray’s hands moved over the screen. “I can’t stop it. My controls are dead.”

  “Helm’s dead, too.” Tennison said.

  “We’re moving again,” Vivianne said.

  “Those machines are kidnapping us.” Lyle’s voice was close to panic. “They’re taking us into the wormhole. We should shoot them down before—”

  “No shooting,” Jordan ordered.

  “But—”

  “Last time they cut our power and nearly froze us to death,” Vi reminded him, and Lyle settled down.

  Jordan hit the toggle. “Prepare for hyperspace.”

  Over the communicator, Knox swore. “The floaters are going to have to scrape dinner off the ceiling again. A little warning would have been—”

  Vivianne grabbed George with one hand, the console with the other. She’d barely braced herself before the alien machines whisked them right into the wormhole.

  “Can we plot our course?” Vivianne asked. “Or are we going to be lost again?”

  “No and no.” Jordan looked at his streaming data. “I have no idea where we’re going, but once we return to normal space, our new star charts should pinpoint our location.”

  He should have known better than to make a statement like that. It was almost as if his words jinxed them. The stars streaked by and the hull shook. They must have remained in the wormhole for about twenty minutes. And then they popped out, the machines still escorting them.

  “Where are we?” Vivianne whispered.

  “Nav charts are picking up only one star,” Gray said. “It’s behind us, and there’s also a planet nearby. I’m running an analysis to see if I can match the light and magnetic spectrum to anything in our charts.”

  Jordan had a bad feeling. There were only a few places in the universe where the stars were so far away they couldn’t be picked up at all. They were between galaxies or in another dimension. Either possibility was mind-blowing.

  “Report,” Jordan said, keeping his suspicions to himself.

  “All systems are operational,” Gray said, “but we still don’t have control back.”

  The cube machines turned the Draco, and a yellow planet came into view. It was approximately half land, half ocean, with both poles covered with ice. From above, the land masses appeared to be mostly sandy deserts, with no jungles, rain forests, or greenery.

  “What’s the atmosphere like down there?” Vivianne asked.

  “Barely breathable, and without plants, yet, I don’t understand how that can be,” Gray said.

  “We should fire on them,” Lyle repeated. “Before they come aboard—”

  “They’ve gone to a lot of trouble to bring us here,” Vivianne said. “Let’s see what they want.”

  “They almost killed us last time,” Lyle sputtered.

  “Only because you fired on them,” Jordan reminded him. “I agree with Vi, let’s see what they want.”

  Start by doing what’s necessary, then what’s possible, and suddenly you are doing the impossible.

  —ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

  22

  Vivianne knew Jordan was trying to get back on her good side. While she wasn’t immune to his backing her up, or his thumbs-up over how she’d handled the communic
ations, she also wouldn’t put it past him to try to manipulate her.

  The man was complex. Brilliant. He’d lived so long that he was adept at hiding his real feelings—if he had them. She had no idea where she stood with him, and it bothered her that she cared.

  She reminded herself that just because they’d been lovers didn’t mean she required a deeper connection. Vivianne already knew she could count on Jordan to save her life, even at the risk of his own.

  But she must guard herself against forming deeper attachments. She shouldn’t even be this angry or hurt about his refusal to acknowledge her contributions down on Tempest. His opinion shouldn’t matter. She didn’t need him to recognize her help. All that counted was that she’d done what she’d had to do. They’d succeeded in retrieving the Key of Wind.

  When he came alongside her and placed his hand on her shoulder, she wanted to shrug out from beneath it. Irritated with herself over how much she enjoyed his casual touch, she forced herself to step away, to move closer to the viewscreen. “What is this world?”

  His tone was quiet, thoughtful. “On Dominus, we had a legend about Arcturus, a world far out of the Milky Way’s rim.”

  “You think this world is Arcturus?”

  “It’s possible. Look at the equator. That desert isn’t sand, but stone.” He pointed. “What do you see carved into the rock?”

  She peered hard, then gasped. “Those carvings look like three horses running.” They had to be enormous to be seen from this distance.

  “Three fast steeds was King Arthur’s coat of arms,” he reminded her.

  “But I thought Arthur was from Pendragon.”

  “Many worlds claimed him as their own.”

  “What else do you know about these Arcturians?” she asked.

  “It was said that on Arcturus lived a race of ancient ones who possessed Goddess-like powers.”

  “But?” she prodded, sensing more.

  “Supposedly, these Arcturians had lost their humanity. They weren’t cruel, just cold, methodical, careful, and indifferent to the concerns of the rest of the galaxy.”

 

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