She sits down at her desk and studies the flex screen that automatically rises in front of her. For the next few minutes, her fingers fly furiously over the screen, her face knotted in concentration.
My stomach churns as she works. I’m placing all my confidence in her and her father to save Buir and my people on Cwelt. I hope it’s not a mistake.
“All set!” Ayma gets to her feet, a resolute expression on her face. She has crossed a line and thrown in her lot with us, for better or for worse. The flex screen retracts into the desk and disappears from sight. “We can check in on Ghil via CipherSync on our way,” she says.
She leads us into an elevachute that takes us up to the rooftop hangar where several sleek personal shuttles of varying sizes and colors are parked. She walks over to a scarlet shuttle and keys something into the control panel on the hull. The retractable door on the side slides open and she gestures us inside.
I look around admiringly at the plush white interior and deluxe cushioned seating—a far cry from the taped seats on the Zebulux. Hard to believe Ayma has led such a sophisticated life in the same galaxy where so many primitive planets like Cwelt still exist.
Ayma watches my reaction with amusement. “You can fly it if you want,” she offers.
I slide into the pilot seat without hesitation. “It might be the first and last time I get to pilot a private Syndicate vessel.”
Ayma slides into the seat next to me and keys in the coordinates where we will intercept the stealth fighter. Moments later, the entire rooftop above us opens up and retracts into the walls of the hangar, exposing the expansive evening sky. My chest tightens. I’m struck by how scared and helpless Buir must be feeling. Maybe she’s looking out of a porthole on the Zebulux wondering where we are. Instinctively I splay my hand on the console in front of me. I’m coming for you, Buir.
Our shuttle ascends smoothly, the contented purr of a powerful engine the only sound in our ears as we depart on our pre-determined course. The sky is a burning orange, daubed with gray shadows, the filtered light highlighting streams of microscopic space debris. I implement everything Sarth taught me about flight navigation, the irony not escaping me that I’m using her knowledge now to hunt her down. Once we find her, Sarth will have no choice but to surrender. The shields on the aging Zebulux will never withstand an attack by a stealth fighter. The only question is whether we will be in time to save Buir.
“There she is.” Ayma points to the scanner. “We’re right on target. Don’t worry about docking. The fighter will pull us in.”
She keys in a series of commands and a pair of articulated steel cables shoot toward us from the fighter. They fasten onto the hull with a sudden force that sends a shudder through the entire shuttle. Within minutes, the cables have reeled us inside an enormous hangar stocked with all forms of military hardware and racks of handheld weapons. Rolling doors clang shut behind us and heated oxygen begins pumping through the chamber. When the flashing red lights on the ceiling turn green, Ayma jumps to her feet. “We can exit now,” she says.
She leads us up to the control room and then swiftly gets to work setting a navigational path to intercept the Zebulux. “We’re only about twenty minutes out,” she announces. “Activating cloaking mode. They’ll never see us coming.”
“I’m going to go look at the engine room,” Velkan says, disappearing out the door.
“What’s the plan once we reach the Zebulux?” I throw a worried glance at Ayma. “We can’t fire at the ship with Buir on board.”
“Don’t worry, I can disable it if Sarth decides not to cooperate,” she replies. “We’ll tow them back to Aristozonex if we have to.”
Velkan returns to the control room just as the Zebulux appears on the scanner. I’ve spent the last few minutes of our approach imagining every possible scenario and outcome, and now I’m chilled to the bone at the sight of the ship. Despite Ayma’s reassurances to the contrary, this could go horribly wrong if Sarth doesn’t cooperate. I know what she’s capable of.
“There’s a heat reading,” Ayma says. “Confirming life on board.”
“Let me try talking to Sarth first,” I say. “I might be able to persuade her to let us send a shuttle over for Buir if we let her and Crank go free.” I quell my misgivings and switch on the radio. “Sarth, do you copy? This is Trattora. I’m here under the jurisdiction of a Syndicate ship. You are ordered to surrender immediately and prepare to be boarded.”
I wait for Sarth’s response—a counter offer, a rebuttal, even her sarcastic laugh. But the radio remains silent.
“Try it again,” Velkan says.
“Sarth, I need you to confirm that you can hear me. Your ship is being commandeered by the Syndicate. If you surrender Buir to us, we will drop the kidnapping charges against you and let you go.”
After a few minutes of silence, Ayma turns to me. “Do you want me to disable the ship?”
I shake my head. “Something’s wrong. It’s not like Sarth to keep her big mouth shut. I need to board the Zebulux and find out what’s going on.”
Ayma gives a curt nod. “I’ll activate a transfer shuttle. Make sure you’re armed and take Velkan with you.”
Velkan and I each grab a plasma laser gun from a rack in the cargo bay before climbing into the transfer shuttle.
Moments later, we attach to the airlock chamber on the Zebulux. Once we transfer into the cargo bay, I pan the area slowly, gun at the ready, searching every crevice for any sign of Sarth or Crank. My gut clenches when I spot a figure slumped like a rag doll at the wheel base of the LunaTrekker.
35
“Buir!” I scream, darting across the floor to her.
She lifts her head groggily as I come skidding to a halt beside her. “Fetch some water!” I yell to Velkan. “Grab a canister from the LunaTrekker.” I fumble to untie Buir’s bound hands and then put my arm around her and help her into a more comfortable sitting position. “Are you hurt?” I ask.
She shakes her head, a lone tear rolling down her cheek. “I thought I would never see you again. They left me to die.”
“Where are they?” I ask.
“Crank’s warship picked them up.” She throws me an apologetic look. “They found the dargonite. Sarth actually ate some of that vile mash we hid it in.” She gives a weak smile. “Ghil will get a laugh out of that.” Her expression freezes. She grips my arm like a vice. “They turned Ghil in. We have to rescue him before it’s too late.”
“Buir,” I whisper. “He escaped.”
She blinks, waiting for me to continue. Her eyes sweep mine like she knows I’m holding something back. “What is it?” she whispers.
I take a deep breath. “Stefanov found a dermal sculptor to perform facial reconfiguration on Ghil. Something went wrong. He … he hasn’t come around from the procedure.”
Buir claps a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders begin to shake but she doesn’t make a sound, which makes it even more heart wrenching.
“I’m so sorry, Buir.”
“Is he going to make it?” Her eyes dart to Velkan and back to me.
“The doctors are doing everything they can,” I say.
Tears roll freely down her alabaster cheeks. I take her in my arms and hold her until her sobs subside.
“I brought you some water,” Velkan says, kneeling beside her.
She wipes her eyes and drinks greedily before handing the canister back to Velkan. “How did you find me?”
“Ayma tracked the Zebulux in a Syndicate stealth fighter,” Velkan says.
Buir’s eyes widen. “The Syndicate loaned you a stealth fighter.”
“Not exactly.” Velkan shoots me a helpless look.
“The Fleet Commander is on his way to liberate Cwelt from the Maulers, so we availed ourselves of the opportunity to take the stealth fighter for a test run,” I say. “You’re going to love it. It’s a prototype, built with the new dargonite coating technology that renders it invisible.”
Buir arches a delicate silver b
row. “I leave you for one day and you abscond with the Syndicate’s top secret ship.”
I give a sheepish grin, blinking back tears. “It’s so good to have you back on my case.”
She shakes her head and gets to her feet. “We’d better make sure we return it before the Fleet Commander gets back.” She hesitates, a troubled look clouding her eyes again. “And I need to be there for Ghil.”
I glance around the cargo bay one more time and then lead Buir across to the transfer shuttle where Velkan is already waiting.
“This could well be the last time you set eyes on the Zebulux,” I say to Velkan as we climb aboard. “Any regrets?”
He grimaces. “None.”
I fire up the shuttle and fasten my harness. “She’s somebody’s salvage now,” I say as we lift off and exit the dock.
Back on the stealth fighter, I introduce Buir and Ayma.
“I remember seeing you at the EduPlex.” Ayma runs an admiring eye over Buir’s waist-length silver white hair. “Trattora speaks highly of your friendship.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” Buir replies. “Do you have any more news on Ghil?”
“I linked to the doctors for an update on his condition about ten minutes ago,” Ayma replies. “He’s out of surgery. It’s touch and go.”
A pained expression flits across Buir’s face. “Please, hurry. I need to be with him.”
“It’s going to be all right,” I say, escorting her to an empty seat. “Ghil is strong. He’ll pull through.”
Ayma settles into the pilot’s seat. As she engages the thrusters, her CipherSync lights up. She looks up sharply. “It’s my father!”
My breath catches in my throat. “Is there any way he could have found out we took the fighter?”
“I don’t think so. I’d better respond.” She activates her CipherSync and puts it on speaker. “Father! Are you at Cwelt already?”
“I’m afraid we’ve encountered unexpectedly fierce resistance from Maulers stationed along the route. The fight to reach Cwelt, let alone liberate it, could be prolonged.”
“How long do you estimate?”
“Several weeks at a minimum. The Maulers’ ships are inferior, but guerrilla tactics will drag out the fight. Your mother has been called in to head up an emergency war advisory council.”
“Don’t worry about me, Father.”
“I always worry about you.” The Fleet Commander clears his throat. “It might be difficult to reach me until the Maulers have been subdued. I’ll link to you as soon as I have news of victory.”
The line crackles and cuts out.
I throw a quick glance back at Buir curled up in the seat behind us, eyes closed. I turn to Ayma, my heart beating rapidly. “This is our chance,” I whisper. “With the fleet gone that long, we’ll have time to chart a course to Mhakerta. Maybe the stealth fighter can pass undetected through Preeminence’s air defense system.”
Ayma rubs her brow, studying me for a moment. “If I could get through undetected, I could hack into the main neural framework and find out more about how Preeminence operates.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
She drums her fingers on the console. “If our birth parents are trapped by some despotic AI system, I’m willing to risk entering Mhakerta’s airspace. I’ve been wanting to see the inside of that framework for years.”
I breathe out a long sigh of relief as I slide back into the co-pilot’s seat. “Thank you.”
Ayma locks eyes with me. “Don’t thank me yet. I don’t know what we’re getting into, and I’m not sure I can get us back out of it.”
As we approach Aristozonex, Ayma activates the ship’s cloaking technology again. “We’ll take Buir back down on my personal shuttle. I’ll tell the doctors she’s Ghil’s daughter. They can both stay here until we return, unless you want Buir to come with us?”
I shake my head. “She’s been through enough already. And someone needs to stay with Ghil.”
“I realize you and Buir are close, but we need to make this quick.” Ayma pins a penetrating gaze on me. “My father may end up driving the Maulers out more quickly than he estimates. The stealth fighter needs to be back before the fleet returns, or there will be serious repercussions.”
I know what she’s trying to tell me; that there’s no time for prolonged farewells and tears, even though there’s a chance I may never see Buir again. But this isn’t her cause to fight. What happens next is about Ayma and Velkan and me joining forces to find out what transpired on Mhakerta fourteen moons ago.
We transfer into Ayma’s personal shuttle and make the short flight back to her rooftop hangar. She leads us back downstairs to the medical suite where Ghil lies motionless, connected to a dizzying array of machines.
Buir brushes past the doctors huddled around the monitors and makes her way to Ghil’s bedside. She takes his hand and strokes it gently, her face pinched with grief. I turn away, my stomach knotting. Ghil promised he would find her again, but in the end, she found him.
I turn to one of the doctors. “How is he doing?”
“We have temporarily induced stasis in an attempt not to weaken his heart any further. It’s a waiting game for now.”
“Make sure his daughter has everything she needs,” Ayma instructs him. “I have business to attend to and will be unavailable for the next several days.”
The doctor bows his head and returns to the monitors.
“We should go,” Velkan says. “Every minute we delay increases the risk of being discovered.”
I nod. “Tell Buir we’re going to return the fighter. I can’t lie to her, not even to keep her safe.”
I watch him walk over to Buir and say something to her.
She looks up and half rises out of her seat.
I steel myself for her parting words, but she’s too broken to give me any of her sensible reminders and instead nods and sits back down. She flicks her shimmering hair over one shoulder and swats at a tear that dangles from the end of her nose.
I splay my hand good-bye one last time. It breaks my heart to know that if Ghil doesn’t make it, she’ll have to face his death alone. But I’m glad for her sake that she’ll be someplace safe while we’re gone.
Ayma arches a questioning brow at me and I nod. Velkan gives my arm a comforting squeeze as I turn away. I walk with heavy footsteps out of the room, afraid if I look back at Buir’s tear-stained face, I won’t be able to leave.
Inside Ayma’s shuttle, I slump wearily into my seat. There’s a hole in my heart at the thought of leaving Buir behind that makes me feel number than I thought possible. But it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to participate in the enormous risk we’re about to take by entering Preeminence’s airspace. My job is to protect my people, and so far, I haven’t done a good job of it. Meldus’ death still weighs heavy on my conscience.
The shuttle takes off from the rooftop, veers left, and climbs quickly to the navigational path Ayma has set back to the stealth fighter. I sit, lost in my thoughts, for the duration of the flight. Twenty minutes later, we glide effortlessly into the fighter’s cargo bay and wait for the green light signaling it is safe to disembark.
“Do you want to pilot?” Ayma asks once we reach the control room. “It might take your mind off things for a bit.”
I tweak a grateful smile. “Thanks, but I’m too distracted. I need some time to process everything.”
She nods and flicks on the navigation lights.
“Anyone hungry?” Velkan asks. “We haven’t eaten all day.”
My eyes immediately well up with tears. Buir was always the one to think about stuff like that. “I have a few extra energy bars,” I say, sniffing hard as I look around for my BodPak. I peer under my seat, and glance around the control room, frowning. “I must have set my BodPak down somewhere during all the confusion.”
“There are probably emergency provisions on board,” Ayma says. She turns her attention back to the console. “I’ll plug in our coordinates if
someone wants to scrounge for food.”
“I’ll go,” Velkan offers.
He returns a few minutes later with several packets of snack food and divides them up between us. I rip mine open, salivating at the smell. I’m just about to dig in when the riveted metal doors to the control room slide open again.
I turn in my seat and widen my eyes in horror at the Syndicate soldier towering in the doorway, black, leather-clad legs astride, his imposing frame blocking our only escape route. He steps toward us, gripping a plasma gun, his three-quarter length military coat flapping behind him. My snack pack falls from my hand, the contents spilling all over the floor. I crane my neck to see how many more are behind him. We can’t possibly fight Syndicate soldiers. My throat constricts with fear. How did they find us? And how did they get on board?
Velkan moves silently to my side, his fists clenched.
Ayma springs to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
I turn to her in astonishment. She’s talking to the soldier as if she knows him.
He meets Ayma’s gaze briefly before inspecting Velkan and me with unabashed curiosity. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s not every day the Fleet Commander’s daughter steals a stealth fighter.”
Ayma jerks her head toward the door. “Who else is with you?”
“I came alone,” he replies calmly. His lips tug upward in an apologetic smile. “I overheard your plan and snuck on board before you deployed the launch sequence.”
Ayma glares at him. “I know you think it’s your duty to protect me, Phin, but you don’t belong here.”
“I’m not here to protect you.” He reaches inside his coat, pulls out my BodPak, and tosses it to me. “I’m here to return this.”
“Where did you find it?” I ask, frowning.
“You left it behind in Ayma’s office.”
I look at him more closely and realize it’s the guard who carried Ghil inside for us. I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you want?”
Girl of Fire: The Expulsion Project Book One (A Science Fiction Dystopian Thriller) Page 27