Jordan

by Susan Kearney

  After they humanshaped, their nanotech clothing repaired itself, and Jordan led Vivianne toward the bridge. The Tribes’ crew in this area had disintegrated. But after going through two internal airlocks, they reached an area that had maintained pressure, heat, and gravity. Here, Vivianne avoided looking at the burned bodies and Jordan sensed her eagerness to leave, but he wouldn’t go on without making certain Trendonis was no more.

  With the warship’s shuttle bay destroyed, Jordan had Trendonis trapped, yet he took nothing for granted. Until Trendonis was dead, danger could come from any direction.

  Vivianne might be squeamish, but that didn’t stop her from picking up two blasters from the dead. One she tucked into her pants, the other she kept in hand. Jordan kept his eyes peeled for weapons, and when he spied a space ax, he seized it as well as another blaster.

  Looks like the officers have barricaded themselves on the bridge. It’s likely the last remaining pressurized spot on the warship.

  Unless the Tribes wore spacesuits, all Jordan and Vivianne had to do was break through a bulkhead. Pressure and the cold of space would do their fighting for them.

  Jordan searched the perimeter of the bridge. Look for a weakness.

  The Tribe warship was built with thick metal plating. Yet parts of the metal I-beams were twisted, charred, and melted. Jordan tested several joints with his space ax. No good.

  Over Vivianne’s handheld, static squawked. Then Gray’s mental thought. The warship’s firing at us. I’m pulling back.

  Status? Vivianne asked.

  We’re hit. A loud boom and the communication ended.

  Gray?

  He didn’t answer, and Vivianne’s face paled. We need to help them.

  Jordan found an electric box. After opening it, he picked up a fire extinguisher and rammed it into the circuits. Sparks flew everywhere.

  And a hatch that had prevented them from entering the mother ship’s bridge opened. Blasters drawn, Jordan and Vivianne rushed into the opening and skidded onto the bridge.

  As blaster fire rushed by his ear, Jordan grabbed Vivianne’s waist and rolled. Take cover.

  They ended up half hidden behind a counter with several dead bodies. Jordan kicked the bodies out and tugged Vivianne to safety. He peeked out and counted four opponents. Two men at weapons. One in a spacesuit at the com. And one creeping toward us.

  He blasted the man stationed at weapons. With a cry of pain, the man spun and then fell to the deck. Jordan missed the man on the attack, but Vivianne took him out.

  Betting Trendonis was the one wearing the spacesuit and who was busily typing commands over the command center, Jordan edged toward him.

  “Trendonis. You’re done,” Jordan taunted his enemy, hoping to distract him. He had a bad feeling. A real bad feeling. Why wasn’t Trendonis trying to flee or fighting? Why was he holding his ground? And what was he so busy doing?

  Jordan had no idea why his mind scanning wasn’t working. His major advantage was gone. But he kept creeping forward. Vi. Stay covered. Let the enemy come to you.

  And why aren’t you taking your own advice?

  Trendonis is up to something.

  Jordan crawled behind an overturned module. He still didn’t have a shot. He had to get closer. Staying low, he used elbows and knees to belly crawl. And all the while, he heard the beeping of the touch screen as Trendonis laid in orders.

  Was he calling in reinforcements? Were they about to be surrounded by the Tribe fleet?

  Centuries of rage surged in Jordan. Trendonis was pure evil and the son of a bitch needed to die. His time had come.

  Rising to his feet in a sudden heave, Jordan fired his blaster. Trendonis fired back. Jordan dived, and the blaster fire missed Jordan by inches. But even as he’d lunged behind another console, he’d seen his blast nick Trendonis’s shoulder. Jordan aimed and fired again.

  Across the bridge, Jordan heard more blaster fire. Vivianne?

  I got him.

  Stay there.

  No problem. Her mental communication sounded weak, shaken.

  You okay?

  I’ll live, and if Trendonis shows, I’ve a blaster waiting for him.

  He’s cornered and injured, which only makes him more dangerous. You’ll need eyes in the back of your head. Look up, down. All directions. A snake can come from anywhere.

  A blaster fired.

  He’s advancing on my position.

  Jordan’s pulse raced. His mouth went dry. Trendonis had killed everyone Jordan had ever loved. He would not hurt Vivianne.

  He lunged from behind cover, rolled, and ended up behind an exposed I-beam. Shari-ki, love. I’m coming.

  I have him in my blaster sights.

  More shots fired.

  Vi?

  She didn’t answer.

  Life would indeed be dull if there were no such difficulties.

  —LUCAN ROARKE

  44

  Vivianne?

  When she still didn’t answer, Jordan tensed, his flesh crawling with sudden sweat.

  Vi?

  She must be hurt. Or worse. Jordan sprinted across the bridge, leaping over furniture, skidding on debris, knocking electrical wires dropping from the ceiling out of his way.

  Blaster fire singed his hair. Jordan kept running, scrambling, dodging. Vivianne. Talk to me. Please, love. Say something. Anything.

  Bracing for the sight of her broken and bleeding body, he rounded the console where he’d left her. She was lying on her side, eyes closed. He couldn’t tell if she was still alive. And then, from behind a column, Trendonis kicked the blaster from Jordan’s hand.

  Filled with fury, Jordan seized Trendonis’s neck with both hands and squeezed. But with a sharp twist to one side, Trendonis broke his grip and clapped his hands over Jordan’s ears.

  Pain in his eardrums drove Jordan into a white rage. With an uppercut, he slammed his knuckles into Trendonis’s cheekbone. The crunch of bone forced Trendonis to stagger back, but he was far from defeated. The wily fighter grabbed a loose crossbrace and raised it, ready to swing at Jordan’s head.

  Before Trendonis could deliver the deathblow, Jordan hurled his space ax. And with a thunk, it lodged dead center in Trendonis’s chest.

  The impact lifted Trendonis off his feet. His arms flailed, and he dropped the crossbrace. Knees giving out, he sank to the floor. But even as his eyes clouded with his coming death, they gleamed with triumph. “Earth… is… no more.”

  “Oh, God.” Vivianne sat up, raised a hand to the wound on her head, and staggered to her feet. Blood matted her hair and streamed down over her face.

  But she was alive.

  “Thank the Goddess.” Hearts welling with relief that she’d survived, Jordan gathered her into his arms, holding her, touching her to assure himself she was really there. “When you didn’t answer…”

  “He hit me on the head. I blacked out.”

  “Let me take a look.” He gently pulled back her hair to reveal a jagged cut that oozed with congealing blood.

  “I’m fine.” She jerked back, eyes wide with horror. “Jordan. He said, ‘Earth is no more.’ What does that mean?”

  Jordan took her hand and helped her to her feet. “Let’s see what we can find out.”

  Her hand tucked in his, they headed over to the command console. With a squeeze, Vivianne released his hand and headed to the navigation center, where she tried to find the Draco.

  Jordan pulled up the last commands Trendonis had sent out. He went icy-hot with renewed anger. Trendonis’s last order personified the man himself. Pure evil.

  “I’ve located the Draco.” Vivianne lifted her head from the data stream, her eyes wide. “And there’s a baffling communication in Trendonis’s log.”

  Jordan put off telling her his bad news. “What did you find?”

  “Trendonis sent a communication to Arcturus. To Arthur.”

  To Arthur? Jordan’s mind raced. “And what was the message?”

  “His exact words were, �
��You’ve lost Earth, my son.’ ”

  “My son?” Jordan repeated, his forehead wrinkling. Had she misheard? Was this a code?

  “And he signed it ‘Uther.’ ” Her words flowed with excitement. “Remember I told you that I’d read medieval history about this coat of arms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it was Uther’s coat of arms. No wonder he and Arthur used the same family symbol. Trendonis is Uther—he’s King Arthur’s father.”

  Stunned, Jordan rocked back on his heels. Uther was Arthur’s sire? Uther had stood for everything Arthur was against. Uther was a man of darkness and destruction. Arthur loved everything good and honorable. No wonder Arthur had hated the man. And he must have been ashamed, or he wouldn’t have kept the secret. “Arthur has a lot of explaining to do.” Jordan couldn’t delay the bad news any longer. “But we have to leave. Right now. Trendonis just ordered his fleet to prepare planetbusters and lob them at Earth.”

  Vivianne squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “We’ll stop them. Can we send another message? Cancel his order?”

  Jordan tried to hack into the weapons system, wasting precious seconds. But Trendonis had fail-safes in the system. “We don’t have the code.”

  “Maybe Arthur…”

  “All his life Arthur fought his father. I assure you, he may have kept secrets from me, but Arthur won’t have the code. Our only shot is flying the Draco back to Earth. Maybe after the Tribe fleet commanders realize Trendonis is dead, they’ll change their minds about destroying Earth.” Jordan hefted Trendonis onto his shoulders. “We’ll need his body to prove he’s dead.”

  Pain and desperation in her eyes, she asked, “And will that be enough?”

  “I don’t know.” He wished he had a better answer.

  Love is like a fine wine, born with the bloom of ripe fruit, made with gentle care, sipped slowly to make it last.

  —LADY GUINEVERE

  45

  Vivianne humanshaped and pulled the Draco’s airlock handle. Nothing’s happening.

  When Gray feared the Tribes would board, he must have locked it from the bridge.

  Vivianne peered through the tiny airlock window. I see Knox lying on the floor in the corridor. She’s either unconscious… or dead. She didn’t like even thinking the words.

  Jordan slung Trendonis under one arm, shoved around the hull, and headed toward the stern. Let’s try the engine compartment.

  She’d forgotten they’d blasted out of the engine room to leave the Draco. Hopes rising, Vivianne followed him.

  But Gray had repaired the giant hole. He and the crew had patched the opening with metal plating, then rough-welded it.

  Company’s coming, Jordan warned, and she peered out to see two ships growing in size on the port-side horizon.

  They had to get inside the Draco before those ships reached them. But how?

  The crew couldn’t hear their telepathy. As a last-ditch effort, she placed her mouth to her handheld. “Gray, Knox. Tennison. Lyle. Darren. Anybody in there?”

  No one answered. And she feared the worst.

  Without atmosphere to carry your voice, it’s doubtful they can hear anything.

  She scrambled around the Draco’s hull, looking for an opening. But they couldn’t even see onto the bridge, not with the force field sealing it off.

  Vivianne tried banging her hand on the hull.

  Jordan shook his head. I’ll fly back to the warship and bring back a cutting tool.

  Vivianne kept banging but looked up to check the oncoming ships. No time.

  We have no—

  There’s George. The dog raised up on his hind legs and scratched at the lock. He must have heard me banging. Maybe he can pull the handle and engage the airlock.

  He’s a dog.

  A smart dog. And the end of the handle has a ball on it, not too different from his Ping-Pong balls. She sent a mental order,Fetch.

  He’s not telepathic. He can’t hear you.

  Perhaps he can. The wave that evolved us hit him, too.

  But Jordan appeared to be correct. George kept scratching. Vivianne spoke right against the metal door. “Fetch, George. Fetch.”

  Suddenly, Jordan pounded the window. George looked straight at him. Jordan motioned with his hand as if he’d just thrown a ball. George turned around to look for the ball.

  The dog jumped excitedly at the door handle. Oh, my… God. He grabbed the end with his mouth. She heard a hiss. He did it. George did it. She was going to buy him steak dinners for a month, for a year. Hell—for life.

  After the inner airlock opened, they tumbled inside. With Trendonis’s body it had been a tight fit, but Vivianne was too excited to care. “You did it, George. Good boy.”

  Jordan closed the lock, leaving Trendonis inside the airlock. “The cold should preserve him until we get back.” Squeezing past Vivianne, he kneeled next to Knox. Her hearts have stopped. But she doesn’t need air. And a pressure change or cold or radiation couldn’t have done this.

  “What was in those Tribe weapons?”

  “Maybe an electrical charge? Although why it didn’t knock out George I’m not sure.”

  Maybe he’d been in midair when the strike hit. Vivianne set George down and ran down the hall for the defibrillator. She rushed back and they placed it on Knox. “Get back.”

  Jordan zapped Knox. Vivianne felt for a pulse. “It’s beating.”

  Knox moaned and opened her eyes. “What happened?”

  There was no time to answer. Vivianne patted her shoulder. “Stay here. We have to go help the others.” Then she followed Jordan.

  Ten minutes later, they’d revived the entire crew. And jumped into hyperspace. Heading for Earth.

  Praying that Trendonis’s orders to blow up the planet hadn’t arrived before they would, she watched the Draco burst from hyperspace. The Tribe fleet surrounded Earth. The hundreds of thousands of ships that Maggie had told her about still blanketed the planet.

  “Open a channel to the Tribe ships,” Jordan ordered.

  Gray frowned in frustration. “I’ve used every channel we’ve got. No answer.”

  “Send this message anyway, along with a picture of Trendonis’s body,” Jordan ordered, then composed his message. “Your leader, Trendonis, is dead, and the Tribes no longer possess the Grail. That means in battle, you can die. But Earth doesn’t want war with you. Go home. This confrontation is over.”

  “I’ve set your message to repeat in a loop, but there’s still no answer.” Gray moved over to help Darren monitor weapons.

  Vivianne looked out the viewscreen. Dozens of ships simultaneously opened their weapon ports, and her stomach tightened. “What’s going on?”

  “They’re preparing to fire,” Jordan told her, his voice grim.

  She closed her hands into fists. She couldn’t let them fire and destroy her world. “We’ve got to stop them.”

  But how? They were one tiny ship against thousands.

  Lyle paced on the bridge. Tears streamed down his face. “They’re going to kill our world and everyone on it, and there’s not a damn thing we can do.”

  The best defense against a planetbuster is not to be there when it goes off.

  —TRENDONIS

  46

  There had to be something they could do. Vivianne searched Jordan’s memory for information on the planetbuster that had destroyed Dominus. To break up a planet required thousands of bombs. And while all of them didn’t have to land to destroy a world, most of them had to hit their target.

  “What about Earth’s antimissile defense system?” she asked.

  Jordan shook his head. “It’s not aimed to defend a threat from space.”

  “Suppose we fly out there and stop the missiles?” she suggested.

  “This ship can’t—”

  “I’m not talking about the ship. I’m talking about flying out there as dragons, and manhandling those weapons like we did that shuttle. We don’t need to breathe. We can stop those bomb
s in space before they hit the atmosphere.”

  “There’s too many bombs. We can’t do it alone.” Jordan hurried after her.

  Vivianne spoke on her handheld. “Gray, send the word to Earth. Let the dragonshapers spread the message telepathically. Tell them that to save Earth, they need to fly up here and stop those bombs.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Even as Vivianne raced toward the airlock with Jordan close on her heels, she was praying she was right, praying that if enough dragonshapers got the word, they could divert enough bombs to save the planet.

  Inside the airlock, Jordan embraced and kissed her. “Shari-ki, I adore the way you never give up.”

  “Being with you makes me braver. Smarter.” She kissed him with fervor, knowing it was true. And to think she’d feared love would make her less independent. Instead, sharing her life and knowledge with Jordan had made her more confident, more of a risk taker.

  The airlock opened, and she and Jordan dragonshaped, then flew straight at the newly released bombs. With a swat of her wing, she sent a bomb back the way it had come, directly into the Tribe ship. The hull collapsed and elation filled her. They could save Earth.

  Help came, and it was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. Tens of thousands of dragons rose en masse from Earth’s upper atmosphere into the heavens. Together the dragonshapers rounded up the bombs, telepathically coordinating the attack.

  Dragons from every nation patrolled the skies, and whenever they found a bomb, they flung it spinning toward the Tribe ships. It didn’t take long for the Tribes to retreat.

  Only two bombs broke through Earth’s atmosphere, one landing harmlessly in the ocean, the other doing little damage at the South Pole.

  Finally, Earth was safe.

  Vivianne flew beside Jordan, speculating on a wonderful future. A future where people could survive in space without suits or ships, where they could communicate with their minds. As she soared toward Earth, the possibilities seemed infinite. As did her love.