Defending the Galaxy: The Sentinels of the Galaxy

by Maria V. Snyder

  “And look at you. Finally having a chance to show off your muscles.”

  He laughs. “It’s what I live for.”

  There’s a cheer when he lifts me up. Lots of faces wait beyond the rubble. As I suspected, I’m near the edge of Pit 2, which was lucky. There’s almost a solid wall of debris where Pits 3 and 4 used to be. How many looters are buried there? My stomach lurches.

  Rance picks his way over the rubble. The faces sharpen into recognizable people—Mom, Dad, Niall, Radcliff, and Morgan. All covered with dust, but all smiling. The prisoners must have been evacuated because of the rest of Pit 1 is empty.

  “Where do you want her?” Rance asks Dr. Edward.

  “There’s a gurney waiting upstairs.”

  Rance takes me through the archeology lab and up the steps. Stunned looters are still lying on the ground. Behind Rance is a parade of people following us. When he sets me on the gurney, I’m able to stretch out for the first time. It’s a painful endeavor, but in a strange way is also a vast relief.

  “Do you want something for that ankle?” Dr. Edwards ask.

  “Yes, please.” It’s throbbing like a pulsar.

  He pricks me with a needle. Soon a soothing liquid spreads throughout my body, silencing the noise and also calming my worries. The people gathered around me turn soft, but I reach for Niall’s hand before drifting to sleep.

  I wake in the infirmary. My dad is sitting next to my bed, working on a portable. His short brown hair is wet and he’s changed into clean clothes.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  He glances at me and smiles. “No need to thank me. It’s my parental duty or my biological right—one of those. I’ve been accused of both.”

  “Funny.” But the fact he can tease means I don’t have any serious injuries. “What’s the damage?” I ask him.

  “Broken right ankle. Edwards had to put in a few pins, but they’ll dissolve as the calcium accelerators repair the breaks. Various cuts and contusions. You’ll be stiff and sore for a couple days. You were lucky.”

  “I remembered my cave-in training.”

  Dad presses a hand to his chest. “You mean you actually listened?”

  “Shocking, I know.” Then I sobered. “Do you know why Pit 2 collapsed as well?”

  “With the multiple breaches from the digging machines, the entire area was unstable. We’ve moved the prisoners out of Pit 1 and into a couple of the labs.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “It was my idea.”

  “Officer Morgan took full responsibility for making the decision. And don’t forget the looters decided to attack us.”

  “I agree the logic is sound, but my heart disagrees, Dad.”

  “Those pesky emotions are always ruining solid reasoning.” He tsks. “Time will help.”

  True. My guilt over Officer Menz’s death has lost its sharp edge. “Do you know how many were…killed?”

  “No, but we do know six of the digging machines made it out. There’s holes in the desert and tracks to a staging area.”

  I’m glad they escaped the pits. “Staging area?”

  “Yes, they shuttled in all the equipment to an area out of sight from the base. From there they attacked.”

  “Those shuttles weren’t connected to the Q-net. None of their equipment is.”

  “We know.”

  “Did any of our people get hurt?”

  “Other than being stunned, no one had any major injuries. You are actually the worst one.”

  That’s good to know. “Does Radcliff think the looters will return?”

  My father hesitates, then clears his throat. “I’ll let him tell you his thoughts. Security is planning a meeting later this afternoon.”

  I glance at the clock. It’s twelve-thirty. I throw the covers off and sit up. Every muscle hurts. All six-hundred and fifty of them. Especially my shoulders and right arm. There’s a bandage wrapped around my bicep. The room spins slightly.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have to get ready for soch-time.”

  “No one expects you to attend today.”

  “The kids expect me. I need to go.”

  My father stares at me as if he’s never seen me before. “You’re supposed to stay off that ankle for a full day.”

  “Can you get me a wheelchair? Help me get dressed?” I swing my legs over the edge. There’s a white…contraption around my ankle.

  “Uh… Let me check.” He bolts.

  By the time Dr. Edwards enters my room, I’m hopping on one leg to the washroom. He blocks my way.

  “You’re certainly determined, Miss Lawrence,” he says, supporting my elbow. “Is it that important?”

  “Yes.”

  He considers. “All right, but you will return right afterward. Understand?”

  “Yes!”

  “I’ll get a nurse to help you.” Muttering under his breath about difficult patients, he hustles out.

  I continue to the washroom. A nurse arrives soon after with a wheelchair. She helps me change into a pair of scrubs. Best of all she brings me some pain meds, water, and an energy bar. When I’m ready to go, my father appears. He pushes me to the soch-area. I direct him to my spot.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say as he kisses my cheek good-bye.

  As soon as he’s gone, the kids surround my chair with a million questions.

  “What happened?”

  “How did you get hurt?”

  “Are we going to die?”

  “My dad was out all night.”

  “Did the bad guys attack us?”

  “My sister said the planet is angry and is going to swallow us whole!”

  “Are we going to die?”

  “I wanna go back to Xinji.”

  I wait until they run out of steam. I suspected the adults wouldn’t tell them what happened in order not to scare them. But kids are smarter than they’re given credit for, and can sense the wrongness. It just increases their anxiety when they don’t know what’s going on.

  Once the questions peter out, I say, “Remember when I told you we had the best security team in the Galaxy?”

  Solemn nods all around.

  “Last night they proved they’re the best.”

  “But you’re hurt.” Miguel, once again stating the obvious.

  “I broke my ankle in the pits when we stopped the looters from rescuing their people. It didn’t stop me from coming here, so it can’t be that bad, right?” Then I add, “You want to know what’s really amazing?”

  They lean closer, eyes wide.

  “No one else was hurt.”

  “I heard the bad guys stunned some of the geology techs,” Val says.

  “That stings, but once you wake up you’re perfectly fine. And that proves they’re not trying to hurt us.” Which isn’t a lie. At all. They didn’t come to kill, but to free the prisoners. Yes, I know what you’re thinking—this time—but I’m going to ignore that and concentrate on helping the kids. “Who wants to learn the mouse-in-its-burrow move?” I ask.

  “Me!” A universal response.

  “Great. Kuma, can you follow my instructions and demonstrate for me?”

  She straightens to her full height—all one hundred and twenty centimeters—super cute. “Yes, sir!”

  I coach her to curl up in a small little ball. The kids catch on quick and we have races to see who can drop and curl into their burrows the fastest. Then I play music and when I stop the music, they burrow.

  “When will we need this move?” Miguel asks.

  “When you hear a loud sound above you and things start to rain from the ceiling.”

  “Like that time the windows shattered after that big boom?” Kuma asks.

  “Exactly!” See? These kids are smart. I’m rather proud.

  Niall shows up at the end of soch-time to wheel me back to the infirmary. He’s wearing his uniform. Boo. And his expression is…not stern…more sad, maybe tired.

  “
Did your father order you to escort me?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Believe it or not, I volunteered.” There’s a hint of my Toad in his half-smile.

  “So brave.” I fan my face as if overwhelmed with his manliness.

  “Don’t I know it. Who knows when the ceiling might come crashing down on us.”

  Okay that hit too close to home. I peer at him, but he avoids my gaze. Instead he grabs the handles of the wheelchair and pushes me from the soch-area. He remains quiet as he navigates the hallways and avoids running anyone over—a harder task than you’d think. I’m not sure what he wants me to say. I didn’t plan to be buried or I wouldn’t have suggested shooting out the supports. He knows what our job entails. So I don’t say anything.

  Dr. Edwards is waiting for me in my room. He helps me get into bed and checks my ankle.

  “This is a flexible cast,” he says, tapping a finger on the white contraption. “In a couple days, you’ll be able to walk without pain as long as it remains on. It’ll come off in a week. You can get it wet. Until then, you’ll have to use crutches. If you stay in bed for the rest of the day, I’ll release you in the morning.”

  But that means I’ll miss the security meeting later today. His frown deepens as he waits for my response.

  “I’ll try, Doc.”

  He grunts and leaves. I turn to ask Niall about the time for the meeting, but he’s gone. His absence is like being kicked in the stomach. I lie down, pull the blankets up to my chin, and stare at the ceiling, which remains firmly in place—for now. An uneasiness gnaws on my thoughts. Does Niall think I’m a heartless killer? The plan to bury the looters alive was extreme. I’m supposed to be a good guy. Why couldn’t I come up with a better solution?

  NO BETTER SOLUTION.

  Are you sure? We could have exchanged fire, held them off until… But no one was coming to back us up. We should have done what Rance suggested—retreated and allowed the looters to free their people.

  SHOULD HAVE. COULD HAVE. WASTE OF TIME. YOU DID. IT IS DONE.

  You sound just like my mother.

  THANK YOU.

  Should I be surprised or alarmed that Q thinks that’s a compliment? I decide on mildly concerned. And thinking of my mother, I wonder if she’s upset about never being able to reconstruct those destroyed Warriors. Have I ruined everything?

  MORE WARRIORS IN FACTORY.

  Enough to close the rift?

  AS LONG AS THEY HAVE HEARTS.

  Dr. Bharathi visits me. She’s a welcome break from the destructive cycle of my thoughts.

  “I hear you’ve had quite the adventure,” she says in her calm, soothing voice.

  “That’s an interesting way to describe it.”

  “Ah, yes. You like the brutal truth.”

  “I do.”

  “All right.” She settles in the visitor’s chair. “You were buried alive.”

  “You forgot to add it was due to my own evil scheme.”

  “That’s a separate issue. Let’s focus on you being alone and injured while trapped in the dark, wondering if you’d survive.”

  “Actually, Dr. Bharathi, once the debris settled, I was pretty sure I’d live. And I wasn’t alone.”

  “The Q-net?”

  “Always with me. And I don’t mind that. It was comforting. It’s that separate issue I’m going to have problems with.”

  She drums her long fingers on her thigh. “Your evil scheme?”

  “Yes.”

  “Being the cause of another’s death is traumatic no matter the circumstances. You knew what would happen if the pits collapsed, yet you still made the suggestion.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What were you thinking right before?”

  “That the last time looters invaded the pits, they destroyed thousands of Warriors and let in the HoLFs. That this time my charges were in danger of being killed and I couldn’t allow that to happen.”

  “And that’s evil?”

  “I decided their lives were worth less than the people in the base. All lives are equally precious. It’s one of the first things you learn as a security officer.”

  “Fair point. So tell me how you would have felt if you didn’t voice that suggestion and the looters overran the base and killed everyone inside it?”

  Beyond horrible. Probably suicidal. “But that’s the thing. They weren’t planning to kill everyone.”

  “How do you know? Can you read their minds? Or did the Q-net tell you?”

  “No to both questions. The looters in the base had pulse guns and there were only enough of them for a rescue mission. If I’d connected the clues sooner, I wouldn’t have suggested collapsing the pits.”

  “And you’re the one who is supposed to connect the clues?”

  “We all are tasked with that, but I had all the information at that time.”

  “Because of the Q-net?”

  “Yes.”

  Silence. I peek at Dr. Bharathi. Is she edging away from me? No, she’s sitting there looking thoughtful and idly playing with her long brown braid.

  “I, for one, am grateful that you stopped the looters in the pits,” she says. “If they’d rescued all their people, what’s to stop them from sending another missile to destroy the base? Having Jarren and the prisoners protects us all.”

  She has a point.

  “And you’re not evil. Believe me. In my line of work, I’ve seen evil, shook hands with it, and tried unsuccessfully to banish it. You’re still clinging to your Q-net coping mechanism. In the case of the looters, it was pure self-defense.”

  It’s nice of her to say that. I give her a weak smile.

  “I see you don’t believe me. That’s all right. Once you accept that you’re a person who will do anything, including kill another, to protect the people you love, you’ll feel better. And about that ‘all lives are precious’ that every security officer is taught?”

  “What about it?”

  “You might want to ask Officer Radcliff how many people he’s killed while performing his duty. Or some of the more experienced officers, I’m sure they’ve struggled with the very thing you’re struggling with now.”

  I didn’t think of that. “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Anytime, Ara.” She puts her hand over mine. “And I mean that. Anytime.” Squeezing my hand briefly, she stands. “Get some rest.”

  Surprisingly, I do. That is until Radcliff arrives with my mother a step behind. Oh boy. Not wanting to deal with this lying down, I sit up.

  “Isn’t there a team meeting?” I ask Radcliff.

  “Soon. I wanted to debrief you beforehand.”

  Ah, that explains my mother’s presence.

  “Walk me through your actions last night,” Radcliff orders.

  I explain about Q waking me up. My original plan to help at detention. “Genius move, using the duct to nowhere,” I say.

  He gives me a tight smile. “Why did you decide to go to the pits instead?”

  “Because the attack was also a rescue mission. I thought, why weren’t there more looters at the pits? There’s fifty-eight of their people there and only a half-dozen trying to reach them. It occurred to me they were going to come into the pits like they had the last time with digging machines.”

  “Why did you take the energy wave guns?”

  “Because of the digging machines. I thought we could disable them when they broke through, trapping them so the looters couldn’t escape.” I sigh. “But I was too late. They were already there and out of the vehicles. And there were so many…” Guilt chews holes in my guts.

  “How many?”

  “Dozens. Too many for the four of us to stop.”

  “Genius move, targeting the support pillars,” Radcliff says.

  I glance at him sharply. “People died.”

  “Yes. I agree with Officer Morgan’s decision.”

  “She wouldn’t have made that decision without my big mouth.”

  “How do you know she wouldn’t have th
ought of it herself?” Radcliff asks. “Or Officer Kier or Officer Rance?”

  It’s obvious what he’s doing. I don’t take the bait, keeping quiet instead.

  “Officer Morgan is getting a commendation in her record for that decision.”

  “Why?” I thought the opposite would happen.

  “We checked the tunnels going from the pits to the surface that the digging machines created. One of them had partially collapsed and trapped a man. He’ll live. There was a nasty bump on his head and he was raving. He kept yelling that they were going to ‘kill them all.’ He was armed with a kill zapper.”

  “Oh.” For the first time since being rescued, the tightness around my chest eases and I can finally breathe easy.

  “Yes, oh. The looters planned to free their people then launch a second attack—to target the people in the base. Officer Morgan saved everyone’s lives. That’s why she’s getting a commendation in her record.” He stands. “Thank you for the information.”

  He nods at my mother and heads for the door.

  “Wait,” I say.

  Radcliff glances back.

  “Can I attend the security meeting?”

  “Dr. Edwards says you need to stay off your ankle for twenty-four hours,” Mom says.

  “I’ll use the wheelchair.”

  “If you can get permission from Dr. Edwards and your parents, you can attend the meeting,” Radcliff says. He leaves.

  I wilt. That’s not going to happen. I collapse back onto my pillow.

  “You’re not even going to ask?” Mom’s voice is incredulous.

  “I figured I’m grounded again.”

  “Why?”

  I glance at her. She’s sitting in the visitor’s chair, appearing calm. No sign of the dragon. Yet.

  “Because I was buried in rubble. My ankle’s broken. You and dad tend to get overprotective about things like that.” I hold up a hand. “Yes, it’s your biological right. I get it.”

  “I’d like nothing better than to see you safe inside our unit. But, like you pointed out to us, that’s a fiction. There’s no place safe in the base. On this planet.” She huffs a little fire. “Radcliff should give you that commendation. It was your idea.”

  “I don’t want it. Trust me!”