by Merry Farmer
Grace stopped with a gasp. Danny lunged to catch her, fearing the worst, but she twisted to face him, the light of realization flashing across her face, giving her color.
“The box!” She grabbed his arm. “The box she gave me. The one with the note that said ‘Give this to Grace.’”
Danny nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
Grace redoubled her pace and effort as they continued on through the woods. In the summer it had taken an hour at least to walk between the crash site and the original settlement. Knee-deep in snow, dragging Kinn, with Grace trying to swallow her pain and exhaustion and a newborn cradled against Danny’s chest, it took much longer.
When they did arrive at the eerie remnants of their camp, wet sunlight made pools on the glittering snow. The mouth of Grace’s cave gaped wide, the snow Danny and Stacey had displaced in their struggle to get out packed against the sides. The baby’s cry echoed in the bare tree branches. Grace and Danny left Kinn outside with Scruffy to guard him and sought refuge in their old cave.
“Everything is just as I left it,” Grace marveled, settling her weight against the wall.
Danny shed his coat and scooped the baby out of the sack. The same visceral draw that had enveloped him when he brought the boy into the world swept him before he handed the boy to Grace. She took him with downcast eyes and held him against her chest. Danny felt along the wall for the torch he’d dropped when he and Stacey had left a week ago. The matches he’d had with him then were far away in Kinn’s camp now, but Grace had kept a flint in one of the baskets lining the wall. He found it and lit the torch.
“I couldn’t move anything,” he confessed. “I didn’t want to disturb it. This is your space.”
Grace inched her way along the wall with the baby and sank to sit on her bear skin. She shuffled the baby, bringing him to her breast to nurse with no emotion. Danny secured the torch in its sconce then squatted to crawl across the bearskin to join them. The sight of her, home in the spot where they’d had their last peaceful moments, tiny baby suckling, filled him with a calm pride.
Grace sensed him watching her and glanced up. “You always did like to stare at me.”
“You always were beautiful,” he replied.
She smiled, weak, tentative. The urgency he’d felt vanished. The universe shrank to the confines of that cramped cave.
Grace’s expression faltered, clouding with worry as she watched her baby feed. She could have been staring at a frozen log for all the lack of light in her eyes.
He scooted closer to sit against her side and to stroke his blistered hand along the boy’s dark hair. “Have you thought of a name for him?”
Grace shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t want to.” She twisted to meet his eyes. “You pick a name.”
“Me?”
She nodded.
He let out a breath. “All right. I’ll name him.”
She lowered her eyes to watch her son. Danny brushed a strand of red-gold hair back from her pale forehead. They would be fine. The world outside the cave hung by a thread, Vengeance was coming, but he told himself they would be fine. The baby flailed one tiny arm. Grace touched his hand, smoothed his fingers, then let him go, squeezing her eyes shut. They had to be fine.
The muffled sound of Kinn waking and struggling followed by Scruffy’s growl cut through the safety Danny was trying to create. There was no more time to waste. He let out a breath and twisted to the corner of the bearskin where the wooden box Carrie had planted in the treasure chests was hidden under Grace’s clothes. He pulled it out and set it on his lap.
“Do you still have the key?” Grace asked, settling the baby and straightening her clothes.
Danny nodded and raised to his knees to fetch one of the baskets from the shelves above them. The small silver key was still shiny. He put it directly into the lock and turned it. With a short hum of electricity, the lock clicked open. Danny pulled it off and tossed it aside. They both held their breath as he flipped the lid open on creaking hinges.
The interior was lined with grey foam. In the center of the box was an envelope, a message printed on it that said, ‘If I’m standing next to you when you open this box give the envelope to me and never mind. If something has happened to me, then read this quick! –Carrie.’
Grace picked up the envelope with shaking hands. Underneath it was a small, rectangular piece of computer equipment, just the size to plug into a large handheld. Danny had guessed right.
“You’d better read the note,” he told her, but Grace was already ripping into it.
She scanned the paper, hand pressed to her mouth.
“Dear Grace. If you’re reading this then something has happened to me. I’m sorry that I’m not there to help you. I hope whatever happened to me wasn’t too gross and awful.” Grace stopped and sniffled as Carrie’s words, so typical of her, struck home.
Danny took the letter from her and continued reading. “I hope it’s not too late to warn you. The thing in the box is a transmitter. It fits in a handheld that belongs to Brian Kutrosky. He’s wired it to be a beacon. There’s another ship following this one. It’s full of people who want to destroy The Terra Project.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but The Terra Project is bad news. Really bad news. It’s part of a larger plot to bring down the government. It would take way too long to explain it all here. Just trust me when I say the leaders of The Terra Project have no intention of creating the perfect new civilization that I know you dream about. But neither do the people following us in the other ship. It’s called Vengeance for a reason.
“I wish I’d never joined Kutrosky’s people. I wish I had known that we were trying to bring down a monster only to set up another monster. I just hope not too many people have been hurt by the time you get this and that you can do something to stop it. If we’re at all close enough by the time you discover this, then you have to find a way to either get Kutrosky’s beacon or plug this into the emergency ship to call Terra. It will boost the signal enough that I think you will be able to call for help. Kutrosky says it can send messages across star systems. I don’t know. That might just be a fairy tale, but it might not. Call for help and save yourself. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I love you, Carrie.”
Danny finished and glanced up to see Grace weeping. He pushed the letter aside and stuffed the transmitter into his coat pocket to close his arms around her and the baby. She cried on his shoulder for only a few seconds before pulling back and saying, “We have to go home, Danny. Now. We have to get there before it’s too late.”
Danny had stood in wide-eyed shock, watching out ES5’s portal window as lines of red and orange had formed through the seams of the transport ship. The explosion that had followed was silent in the vacuum of space. The transport ship had been engulfed in a cloud of fire, blowing apart in all directions.
He swallowed. How many hundreds of people had just died?
A ripple of space was all the warning they had before the shockwave smashed into the ship. It rocked the lucky few who had made it into the haven of ES5 off their feet amidst screams and cries of shock. Grace fell, tumbling away from the window. She recovered to a crouch as Danny scrambled across the floor to help her. He grabbed her hand and closed a sheltering arm around her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he asked, standing with her.
“I…I think so.”
She gripped his hand, staring past their fellow travelers who crowded around the windows. They watched blasted bits of the transport ship spin slowly through the weightless black around them. Grace leaned toward him, taking a deep breath.
“It’s gone. The ship. The people. Gone.”
Danny’s throat closed up, his stomach turned. His hands and feet went numb. The flash of orange light outside diminished, leaving them with nothing but the weak light of the emergency ship. He couldn’t tear his eyes off the window. How many had made it onto emergency ships before the explosion? How many had been
lucky? Heather? Her family? He knew it couldn’t be many. It was his fault.
“Danny? Danny, are you alright?” Grace was asking him.
He tore his gaze away from the window to her. “No,” he answered honestly. A second explosion rippled through him. Hundreds of people had just died, and it was his fault.
“Come sit down over here then.” She jostled in his arms, putting her hand on the small of his back and leading him across the wide bay of the ship to one of the rows of cushioned seats. He sat, fighting down the wave of nausea that assailed him.
He caught sight of Carrie, pale, eyes round, standing by one of the windows. She clutched a hand to her throat. The sheer horror in her eyes only augmented what he was feeling. She stole a flickering glance to him, but he had no sympathy for her. This was her doing too.
The people who had made it into the ship with them began to slump away from the windows, wandering the open, empty emergency ship bay, looking for something to do, finding nothing.
“This is Emergency Ship Five,” Sean’s voice shouted from the cockpit. “Emergency Ship Five. We appear to be away and unharmed. Who is in charge? I repeat, who is in charge out there?”
The chatter coming from the speakers in the cockpit buzzed into an incoherent swarm. Dozens of voices shouted, pleaded, screams and weeping indistinct in the background. Chaos. Every other ship that had made it away from the Argo was fighting to get the same message heard. Sean continued to try to speak over the sea of other voices, getting nowhere.
Danny swallowed, forcing himself to breathe. At least there were others who had made it off before the explosion.
“Carrie, you look terrible.” Grace left him, getting up and rushing across the bay to her friend. “Come and sit down.”
“I can’t.” Carrie shook her head, expression crumbling as she burst into tears. “I can’t. They might be out there. They’re coming.”
“Who might be out there?” Grace put an arm around her shoulder, forcing her away. “Who’s coming?”
Carrie didn’t answer her. She twisted her neck and tried to continue to look out the window as Grace pulled her away, walking her across the ship to where Danny sat.
“Here. Sit down.” The command in Grace’s voice was undeniable as she bounced back from the initial trauma. She kept her back straight, her head held high as she checked around the room, assessing the situation. “Take a moment to rest, breathe.” She made sure Carrie settled, then pivoted to face the others. “Everybody, take a moment to find a seat and sit down. We need to take stock and determine what we can do next. We’ll get through this if we can all keep our heads.”
She stepped away from Danny and Carrie to help those in the ship who were too stunned to follow directions.
Danny narrowed his eyes at Carrie, pulse pounding a furious rhythm in his ears. “Disable the Argo?” His anger and emotion were barely kept in check. “Cut all the power until Kutrosky’s rescue ship can come restore it?”
“This wasn’t my idea.” Carrie dropped her head to her hands, shaking. “I didn’t know this was what he was planning until—”
“Until? You knew this would happen in advance? I provided you with the strip and the codes to access the command module, and you blow up the Argo and every living soul who didn’t make it out within five minutes?”
“He said there would be more time,” she wept.
“This was never supposed to be a take-over of The Terra Project, was it? This was only ever designed to be complete destruction.”
Carrie was spared his further wrath as Grace rejoined them. “It’s okay,” she comforted Carrie, sinking to her knees to rub her back and hug her. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise you.”
“No.” Carrie shook her head. “It’s not going to be okay. We’re going to die.”
“No one is going to die,” Grace spoke with rock-solid determination. She stood and moved to the cockpit door. “Sean, have you been able to establish communications with anyone?”
Sean hissed out a breath, staring helplessly at the controls in front of him. “Everyone is trying to hail each other at once. It’s jamming all the frequencies. At least I think that’s what’s jamming all the frequencies. It could be something else. There’s just so much going on. It’s hard to tell.”
“How close is the nearest star system with habitable planets?”
“There are three systems within the range of ES5’s fuel life,” Gil piped into the conversation from his position looking over Sean’s shoulder. “But only just barely. Ovid, Colfis, and Montrose.”
“Looks like some of the ships are already making a break for it,” Sean’s copilot, Dave observed, pointing out the front screen.
“Where are they going?” Sean frowned, tapping the command module to try to establish some kind of communication. “This is Emergency Ship Five. If anybody can hear me please respond.”
His message was lost in a haze of voices and static. More people were crowding toward the cockpit door.
Carrie rose from her seat. “Grace, I need to talk to you.”
Danny grabbed Carrie and pulled her back down. “Haven’t you done enough for one day?”
She rounded on him, furious. “We need to get away from here as soon as possible.”
“Where do you suggest we go?”
“Anywhere. Just away from here. Grace!”
She stood again and moved across the ship to Grace before Danny could pull her back. Grace turned to Carrie, determined, in control.
“Grace we need to get out of here, fast.”
“We will,” Grace assured her, touching her arm. She turned back to Sean. “Would it help if we moved a little further out from the epicenter? To clear up communication lines?”
“Yes!” Carrie cried, earning odd glances from those gathered around them. “Let’s get away from here.”
“We can try.” Sean nodded. His hands worked over the controls and the ship surged forward, its engines growling louder.
They all watched out the front view screen as the cluster of debris from the transport ship and scattered emergency ships dispersed. ES5 was silent, everyone holding their breath. Danny stood and joined the anxious group watching the blackness closing in on them.
“This is Emergency Ship Five,” Sean tried to send his message across the void. “This is Sean Murphy speaking. Can anybody hear me?”
Nothing but clips of voices and static came back.
“Grace.” Carrie tugged on her sleeve, desperate. “You need to listen to me. Now!”
“In a minute.” Grace brushed her off, focused out the view screen, on Sean’s hands sliding across the command module. “Everyone is scattering.”
“It looks like that one might be following us.” Dave pointed to a flashing dot on his smaller tracking screen.
“Well at least we’re not alone.”
“Grace, this really can’t wait.” Carrie pushed on.
“It’s going to have to,” Grace snapped and followed with, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have a job to do.”
Danny grabbed hold of Carrie’s arm and led her well away from the scene at the cockpit door. “Let her do her job,” he glared. “You’ve already done yours.”
The scent of smoke curled through the fog that bathed the forest. It was unmistakable, punching Danny’s pulse higher. Each lumbering step across the ice-packed snow brought them closer to home. Shouts and cries echoed, distorted, through the melt-blackened trunks of the trees. Grace’s face was twisted in pain as she took one step at a time, leaning against Danny now, a faint trail of red marking her progress.
“We should stop,” he said, every sinew in his body wanting to run on. “You can’t make a journey like this.”
“I can,” Grace insisted, taking another step. “I have to. Do you hear it?”
A fierce crackle—like trees being felled—split through the haze of the forest. Shouts followed.
“I hear it,” he answered and pushed on.
Kinn stirred o
n the sheet of paneling behind Scruffy where he was bound. His groggy growl gave way to a full bellow of fury that rattled the panel. Danny pivoted to check on him as Scruffy twitched and rumbled at the sudden resistance from his load.
“You motherfucker!” Kinn shouted as Scruffy tugged him level with Danny and Grace. “I’ll kill you!” He jerked at his restraints. Wires cut into his wrists and legs.
Danny waited and watched, drawing the gun from his pocket. He tightened his grip on the handle as Kinn struggled until he was certain the knots he tied wouldn’t break. Kinn lost his strength as the dark patch on his parka over his shoulder grew wet with fresh blood. Only when Danny was certain Kinn was secure did he motion for Grace to walk on. He kept his gun in hand, finger near the trigger, even after Kinn’s shouts and threats died to tense listening.
Kinn heard it too. The smoke rose up over the trees and the shouts and screams of battle were joined by cracks and thumps of combat. Danny paused as they crossed the threshold of the area of the forest his people had cleared before the snow. The trees were thinner, and across the distance he could see movement. Indistinct shapes surged and tangled against the backdrop of manmade structures and walls of flame. The snow was pitted with dark patches and stained with red in others.
The sharp whiz of a crossbow bolt split the air near his head. He heard the bolt skitter off a trunk behind him. They’d reached the battle.
“Wait here,” Danny ordered Grace. “Take the baby and take cover.”
“No.” She shook her head and shrank from him as he fumbled with his coat’s closures to reach for the baby. “I don’t want him.”
“I can’t take him into battle.”
“I don’t want him.”
Danny let out a frustrated breath. There wasn’t time for him to argue with her. He refastened his coat, shifting the baby in his sack until he felt secure. Then he turned and ran, charging into the blur of movement that was the battle. The edges of his village, his home, slipped in and out of focus as he ran toward the heart of the action, toward the pavilion. One arm curled around the baby under his coat and the other hand clutched the handle of his gun. The boy cried in fury against his heart.