Found Girl

by Pauline Baird Jones

  The view outside showed those still standing suddenly tumbling.

  This ship is under attack.

  She smiled but did not speak. Because she’d noticed something else…

  32

  The bogey didn’t seem to know the beacon exposed their position. It wasn’t perfect since it didn’t show the whole ship. But enemy was getting pounded as his squadrons dropped careful charges, hoping to distress, not destroy it. When would they fight back—of course. They were trying to secure a hostage. A hostage. His stomach clenched. What would he do if Arian popped up on his screen in the hands of the enemy?

  “Banshee, the beacon is moving, well, erratically.” Home plate sounded puzzled.

  “Define erratic,” Coop ordered. He pulled up his screen, but it wasn’t big enough to track big movements. To him it looked like it was twitching a bit. They needed to launch the next round of depth charges. If the ship was getting ready to move—

  “Our assessment is that the movement reflects beacon movement, not bogey movement.”

  Arian. It had to be Arian. He didn’t know what she was doing, but he knew she’d be doing something, anything to keep the enemy out.

  But—if they were basing their firing runs on the ship being almost stationary and it wasn’t—

  He shook it off. He’d already made the decision to act. They had to force the bogey to fight them or run.

  “Let’s do another depth charge. Victor and Yankee, you take point this time.” Make them wish they’d never ventured in here. He called up the Boyington. “Sir, we’re gonna need a boarding party if we crack this sucker.”

  “Already on the way,” came Pappy’s calm voice.

  Tracking broke in. “Banshee, we have multiple bird squadrons closing on your position.”

  That was good, but was it weird to feel like he’d wandered into the final battle of Lord of the Rings?

  * * *

  The bay hatch opened and more scalawags pulled in a device that was probably a weapon. A type of projectile launcher, she guessed, based on its configuration.

  “Do we have shields?” she asked. They’d had shields before. Had she repaired them?

  Minimal shields.

  Minimal would have to do. She brought them online just in time. All the scalawags but one retreated. He did something to the device, then darted for cover. Flames flared from the projectile and it launched. The video feed flickered but did not go dark.

  The shields held. This time.

  The force of the impact sent them dancing on the line that was the tractor beam. Much shrieking metal and crunching sounds. Arian felt her restraints giving way and grabbed at the arms. She managed to catch herself before she hit the deck. They rebounded as the tractor beam pulled them back in the other direction. With a painful yank to her shoulder, she staggered into a line of panels. She dove for her seat before the next bounce on the line. Then clambered into her seat and retied the restraints as the rebounds diminished.

  The view from her videos had been dizzying, so she had looked away. Seated once more, she studied the feeds that remained active. Bodies were strewn about the decking. The feeds still shuddered. She wasn’t causing it, so Coop’s ship must still be firing on the scalawags. Some lifted heads as if they did not wish to rise. Others stirred in a way that indicated returning awareness and possibly injuries. One managed to get to his feet on the shuddering deck, his feet widely planted, his expression enraged.

  Bester. Blood ran down the side of his face.

  More scalawags poured into the hangar bay. How many more men did this ship have on board? Several of them carried long tubes with what she assumed were projectile weapons hanging from their belts.

  “Are they planning to blow us up—” If they blew up her ship, they would lose a substantial portion of their ship.

  Best estimate is that projectiles are armor piercing. They will breach the hatch and allow them to board. Or inject disabling gases.

  Why would they wait until now—because each level of weapon increased their risk and the risk of damaging…the contents of this ship.

  “Can our shields keep them out?” And if they didn’t, what would happen?

  Uncertain.

  She figured this must be the answer to both questions.

  “We need to be free of that tractor beam,” she bit her lip. It was starting to really annoy her. Was it time to go Zulu and start the self-destruct? Funny how quickly one became used to hoping and how hard it was to give up. It felt odd considering where she had grown up.

  I have an idea.

  Arian blinked. The ship had an idea?

  You will need to hurry.

  Really? Arian studied the data it presented and nodded. Not bad. Did not make up for getting them into this mess, but at least it was trying—

  “What was that?” Arian asked when the video feed wavered sharply multiple times.

  This ship is starting to fight back.

  Yeah, she’d better hurry.

  * * *

  Finally, the bogey was shooting back. Lima’s Badger took a glancing hit and spun away, but managed to regain control of his ship. “Check fire, check fire,” he ordered.

  The lead squadrons peeled away, drawing fire—and giving the follow-on squadrons time to get targeting solutions. Despite its best efforts, the bogey was helping them to connect the current dots with the previous scans of the bogey.

  “Let’s take out those weapons. On my six, Tiger.” He kept a light touch on his stick. If he was steering that ship? He’d use the weapons to draw them in—and there it was. “Firing counter measures.”

  For what felt a long time there was a confusion of exchanged fire and then Coop and PapaOne flight were in the clear. He checked stats. Two ships damaged.

  “Head back to home plate,” he ordered. He frowned at the data on TangoTwo. But he couldn’t worry about that now. “TangoFive, looks like TangoTwo needs a tow. Did we get any of their weapons?” His systems were still trying to collect that data.

  “Near as I can tell, two of their positions went dark, PapaOne.”

  His gaze danced over the pieces the bogey had exposed. Beacon there. That had to be a hangar bay. How could they help her?

  “All right, Victor and Yankee, I want you to lay down some depth charges along the side where the beacon is.” He was still making his turn back, and they needed to pile on while the enemy was recovering. “You know the range.” He hoped.

  “Roger that.” VictorOne sounded surprised but didn’t question the order.

  Coop felt sweat on his face as he watched his squads move in. He might have said a prayer as explosions sparked on his screen, one after the other.

  Right about now, the captain of that ship should be thinking about making a run for it, but it would take time to overcome the inertia of coming to a dead stop. Why hadn’t they got any intel from the Boyington? They’d had plenty of time, or it felt like plenty of time to give them something.

  “Home plate, do we have any intel on where their propulsion units are located?” They hadn’t been visible long, but the geeks should have something to send them. As if they’d been waiting for a request, some data began to arrive. Of course, it was all based on before the shooting started and the mysterious shift of the beacon. And if the geeks were right, the propulsion was dangerously close to the hangar bay broadcasting the beacon. And he was still too far out of position to make the run.

  “Kilo and X-ray, see if you can take out their propulsion.”

  They acknowledged his order soberly.

  The bogey, as if it knew what this run was about, launched a barrage.

  “Victor and Yankee give them some help. We’re coming in as fast as we can.”

  Kilo went in first and laid down the charges, while X-ray provided covering fire. Just as he thought they’d done the job, his tracking lit it up with a white flash that overloaded his sensors.

  * * *

  Lifted off the decking as they were, Arian didn’t feel the impact
s of the ship giving and receiving fire so much as she observed the impact on the scalawags in the bay. It complicated the efforts of those seeking to fire the armor piercing projectiles at them. She saw Bester gesture and scalawags ran over to provide support.

  Arian, who as far as she knew had not fired a weapon until leaving Bosakli, found herself calculating trajectories and yield. “They will have to be very precise if they don’t wish to blow a hole in their own ship,” she noted, feeling oddly calm under the circumstances. Perhaps when one had already faced death, it became easier? No, her mind rejected that. It was not easy. For a moment her cool faltered, but she stiffened. The resolve came from fighting hard, from doing everything one could.

  “I wish I had been able to help them,” she murmured.

  Neither the ship nor Rhubreak asked who she meant.

  It is time.

  The ship was correct. The scalawag was almost stable enough to fire his weapon.

  “Starting feedback,” she said, pressing the controls. Her outside cameras went dark as energy crackled over the surface of her ship and—she hoped—into an overload feedback to the tractor beam. Just one of multiple things that could also cause an explosion. The feedback also took out the remaining video feeds.

  We are clear.

  The ship had not needed to tell her. She felt the jerk as the tractor beam failed. She brought the ship around, the turn painfully slow. Who would get off the first shot? She could not see and could not decide if it was better or worse not seeing.

  Now.

  She activated the eject and the tank shot out of the ship, designed to speed swiftly away in an emergency. It would not travel the safe distance before it impacted with the seam in the hangar bay doors.

  She grabbed the ends of her restraint straps and held on.

  The explosion propelled them into the space side of the bay. The crunch of metal to metal was not reassuring. She did not have time to assess anything as the overstressed doors blew and the bay decompressed.

  * * *

  Someone shouted for falling back. Coop’s sensors hadn’t cleared up when the shockwave hit, sending his Dauntless top over tail. He fought the stick for control and cursed the scanners that were still recovering. For the first time, he was thankful for the endless sim-drills as the spin slowed and he was able to regain control.

  “Lima check in,” he ordered, while he waited to get his eyes back on the situation. The report was bad, but could have been worse. He moved on to the next and by the time all his squadrons had checked in, his eyes were coming back online. His heart almost stopped when he saw debris where the bogey had been. Lots and lots of debris.

  His breath stopped. His heart might have, too. He couldn’t, she couldn’t—

  “Banshee?” It was Tiger. “I’ve got eyes on Alpha Sierra. Like actual eyes, because my sensors are blown.”

  “I got er, sir. She’s dead in space, but I think I got a life sign.”

  I think I got a life sign.

  He blew out his breath. He’d take hope over no hope.

  33

  Arian drifted in cool sea, the water lapping gently against her body. Overhead birds circled, graceful in flight and…pink? She blinked, and the birds banked, heading for a bright light. As the light grew, birds and ocean began to fade to white…

  A voice called, insistent and worried. She knew this voice. Though the ocean began to fade away, it still felt as if she swam toward the voice, and with each stroke closer, memories began to filter in to her mind. She’d lost him, hadn’t she? His name hovered just above, but with the next stroke, she knew it.

  Coop.

  Her husband. Her love. She broke the surface and took a deep breath.

  “Coop?”

  “I’m here, sweetheart.”

  His hand squeezed her as she ran aground. She did not know where these comparisons came from, but she knew them, knew what they meant. Her lashes fluttered and lifted, and there he was.

  “You look…” she could not think of a kind word. His face was gray and red lines were tracks the white portions of his eyes.

  He gave her a weary grin. “Hammered? That’s because I am. You’ve been out for…” his voice cracked, and he had to cough to finish, “…for quite a while.” A hand that trembled smoothed the hair back from her face. “Welcome back.”

  She turned her face into his hand, pressing her lips against his skin. “I feared I would never see you again.” Her eyes closed as remembered grief flooded through her once more, then she managed a smile for him. “I am not sure I did not die. I thought we would. The explosion was quite large.”

  “Yes,” Coop said, his voice a bit unsteady, “it was…large.”

  She had many questions, but the act of assembling them exhausted her. “This is like the first time…we met,” she murmured. “Softer though.”

  “You’re in the infirmary, though the fact that you are alive at all is amazing, according to the docs.”

  It was true she did not feel much pain, she was just very tired.

  Coop’s finger trailed down her arm. “Rhubreak says it is the nanites that protected you and healed you.”

  Nanites. That’s right. The lights. Her lashes lifted again.

  “Do they bother you?”

  He shook his head. “They saved you. We’re buds.”

  She chuckled. “Is Rhubreak all right?” Did she wish to know if the ship was all right? She was still very angry with it for kidnapping her.

  “Rhubreak says they are all well.”

  His gaze held curiosity and worry.

  “He was pretty worried about you.”

  “I should have fixed my seat restraints and not the engines,” she said, with a wry grin.

  Coop chuckled and then seemed surprised by that.

  She studied his face with hungry eyes. And perhaps other hungry parts. “When can I leave this place for ours?” she asked. “I feel—” she caught sight of someone out of the corner of her eye and said, “—not dead.”

  The heat that flared in his eyes told her he’d figured out what she didn’t say. He didn’t care about that other person, and he pulled her into his embrace and laughed. And then he kissed her.

  * * *

  Arian wished never to be in the same bay with the ship again. She would never board it again, that she knew. She was grateful when Coop came with her to face it. Would it answer her questions? She did not know. She did know it knew more than Rhubreak.

  When she saw it, she felt her anger fading. It had, as Coop put it, taken a beating. She walked to the front, not because she knew that’s where its intelligence was centered, but because it seemed appropriate. Perhaps some of the formality of Bosakli lingered in her veins.

  She gripped Coop’s hand tightly. You should release them.

  The ship did ask who she meant, but she felt its resistance.

  They deserve to be free.

  With a sort of grumble, it responded. They are not like you.

  How are they different?

  They are empty.

  Empty? Arian frowned. What is their purpose?

  The ship did not want to respond. She felt this. Why wasn’t I frozen?

  You were primary.

  Primary. And they were what? Replacements if she failed to…become. You are becoming, it had said. Becoming what?

  Meta.

  The third.

  You are too damaged to return to the master, she told it.

  There is not a single path to the master.

  She didn’t like the sound of that. I have not become what the master wished.

  Haven’t you?

  I am not her, whoever I was fashioned to be.

  You were not created to be her. You were created to become you.

  With the abilities of the meta.

  If you choose.

  And if I don’t choose?

  It didn’t answer. It didn’t have to. If she didn’t choose, she could not keep either of her promises. She looked at Coop. Would she l
ose him? As if he heard or knew, he faced her, taking her in his arms.

  “We will not lose each other again, Arian.”

  She leaned her cheek on his shoulder, felt his arms around her, felt all the pieces of her coming together, the new she’d felt from their marriage, but also her past, all of it melding into Arian. Meta. The third. Lover of Coop.

  “Yes,” she said. “Let’s go take a look at that clock.”

  He sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  * * *

  This time Pappy went with them to the bird planet, not even a hint of expression on his face as they made their way to the bird fountain, where he paused to look around. The birds waited patiently while Hoteimai had shown them where their DNA had been added to the wall art. After getting permission, Pappy had touched it, tracing the lines of the double helix. He glanced at Coop and given him a “who knew” look. When Pappy was ready, their entourage led them toward the dining room with the Urclock. Might be the same guards going with them. It was hard to say. They all looked alike to him. Except for Hoteimai. This time the main bird walked next to them, exchanging—well, it wasn’t small talk—but it chatted with Pappy, who had donned the communication bracelet without comment or hesitation.

  A real man, he told himself, can wear anything. But Coop still pushed his under the cuff of his uniform jacket. Arian had suppressed a smile when he did it, then had slid her hand into his. It wasn’t regulation, but neither was being lost in space with a bunch of birds. He wasn’t sure he could ever let go of her hand again. They might have to modify his Dauntless for her. Even stranger, Pappy had not been bothered by her nanites.

  “We ran into them on the Garradian outpost.” His smile had been grim, his gaze abstracted. “I’m not supposed to know about them. I know they can heal injuries.” Pappy seemed a lot less negative about Arian and her chances of getting them home. Coop wouldn’t call him optimistic yet, but he’d toned down the pessimism and the skepticism.