“Yes, sir.” Langston kicked the craft into optimum speed and they took off, churning up sand, which seemed to confuse the worm. They were meters away within minutes.
“Whoa.” Smith finally found his tongue. “What with the sun, the lizards, and now these death worms, there’s no way a person could survive here.”
“Shut up, Skyman.” Barliss was quick to correct him. “You forget as an engineer, Aries Ryder was trained to work in different environments under all sorts of pressures. You’re overreacting, soldier.”
He eyed Langston as the man drove the craft. The pilot didn’t seem as fazed by the attack. Barliss ignored the stronger man and turned back to Smith. “It’s a good thing I’m sending the report to the commander and not you, or we’d all be shipped out of here tomorrow, leaving a floundering young woman to fend for herself and abandoning a great part of our genetic DNA. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Smith’s gaze fell to the floor. “Sorry, sir.” His face flushed red.
Barliss gleaned no satisfaction from beating someone with no backbone. He sat back and watched the sun as it set on the horizon. Behind him the first sun began to rise, casting a strange yellow-red glow.
At camp, he’d dig up that old bottle of wheat beer brewed by his friends on the New Dawn, another perk of knowing the right people. Although it was his last one, he needed it. The situation with the sandworm had scraped too close to tragedy. He’d choose a new team tomorrow, hopefully a few men with spines.
…
Aries allowed Striker to guide her through the bowels of the alien ship, clutching his hand as if he were her lifeline. Which he was. Her entire existence rested on his survival skills and knowledge of Sahara 354. The corridors dimmed the farther they descended, as if the source of light, whatever that was, lost its potency. She wondered how it could still run at all after all of those years abandoned in the sand.
“Don’t worry.” Striker looked back and flashed a mischievous smile, reminding her of Tria. “I’ve been working on this ship for years now, studying how it operates. I know my way around it like a fish in a stream.”
His analogy made her grin. The only fish she’d ever seen were in the containment aquaducts onboard the New Dawn. Striker used phrases from Earth as if he’d actually been there.
“Where’d you come from?” Aries suddenly yearned to learn more about him, to know who her savior really was. “How did you come to be trapped here on Sahara 354?”
“Now, that’s a story.” Striker stepped over a bunch of fallen cables and picked through the rubbish. He worked through the pile as he talked, throwing away some cables and pocketing others in his long black cloak. “I was exiled five years ago. My shipmates decided they’d be better without me. They stole my ship and left me here in this purgatory to rot, mutinous bastards.”
“Exiled?” Aries put the pieces together. “You mean, there was a mutiny?”
“Yup.” Striker shook his head in disgust. “Bad luck, if you ask me. That and the loyalty of pirates has gone to shit. Excuse my English. It’s been awhile since I’ve talked to anyone, never mind a lady such as your—”
“Pirates?” Aries stepped back, looking at him from a new perspective. “You’re a space pirate?” She put her hands on her hips, challenging him as if he’d told a lie.
Striker bowed like it was something to be proud of. “Born and raised.”
Aries looked him up and down. Pirates were supposed to have inferior DNA. Left to die on old Earth, they’d rioted, stealing the last colony ships and overtaking the main space station. Striker didn’t look inferior at all. In fact, he was gorgeous, skilled with tools, and possessed a worldly knowledge she couldn’t come close to grasping. Barliss was far more flawed than this hunk standing in front of her.
“How’d you get ahead of the colony ship? We’ve been traveling for hundreds of years.”
Striker had a glint in his eye. “Wormhole. Found it while I searched for a planet to shelter life.”
He really must be a pirate, then. In an instant, he’d chased away all of her romantic notions. She was conspiring with a renegade! Her mind sped as she rethought her situation. Her repulsion must have shown clearly on her face.
“Oh, I see how it is.” Striker threw a length of old cable down the corridor. It rattled to emphasize his words. “You colonists think you’re the best and the brightest, only taking the select few with high test skills and ideal genetic code. If you had your choice, you wouldn’t even associate with someone like me, someone whose ancestors were left behind to die of pollution and radiation poisoning. Sorry to disappoint you again. My forefathers had to do something. They had to find some way off that putrid rock. What were they going to do, lie down and rot?”
Aries recognized the validity of his logic. “Look, Striker, I’m sorry. You’re the first person I’ve met who wasn’t born on the New Dawn. It’s hard to reconcile you with what they taught me. I mean, for one thing, they said pirates were all second-class riffraff with no moral code.”
“Is that right?” He turned all his attention on her. “Saying everyone left behind was immoral kind of eases their guilt for abandoning their fellow man, doesn’t it?”
“They didn’t just say it. I heard the recorded transmissions myself, in my history class. Pirates overtook one of the central space stations and killed the guards. They severed all communication with the mainframes. My colony hasn’t been contacted by another ship in the centuries since. For all we know, the New Dawn could be the last colonization ship left out there.”
“Where else were they supposed to go? The planet was dead. The space station was the only place humans could live.”
“I don’t know. All I’ve been told is they look out for their own good.”
He cocked his head. “This coming from a woman who turned her back on her people for her own freedom?”
It was a direct blow. Aries fell back against the wall with the truth of it. Her body prickled with shame and her face heated. She was more selfish than anyone. The Guide spoke the truth about maintaining genetic diversity, yet she’d endangered the future of the race by escaping, taking her unique DNA with her. How could she possibly judge the pirates?
A pang of guilt shot through her. This man, pirate that he was, had saved her from the desert and everything in it. She forced her eyes up to study his pained face. He looked far closer to the ideal man than any man aboard the New Dawn. Who were they to decide who should further the species? The first colonists had acted like God, choosing who would live and who would die. But Striker’s ancestors hadn’t died.
“Aries.” Striker walked toward her. “I’m sorry. I’ve been alone all these years and I’m surprised I can still use my voice, never mind engage in polite conversation.”
“No, you’re right. I acted selfishly by abandoning them. Here I am, giving you grief when you saved my life.” She put a hand to her head as if to ward away a fever. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m still coming to grips with a lot of things.”
“All I know is, desperate people are forced to take extreme measures. Listen, these colonists you describe sound like blowhards, if you ask me. Not only do they make you marry someone you don’t want, but they won’t let you live your own life. At least the pirates don’t care whom you choose, or when you stay, or if you go. Now, I understand the colonists’ rules are to further the species, but it’s someone else’s vision of the human race, not yours. That’s my opinion.”
He turned around and continued walking down the corridor. Aries watched him leave, wondering why his opinion of her mattered so much. Then she followed him.
His cloak fanned out around his black boots like a shadow. He must have heard her walking behind him, because he said, “A pirate’s life can’t be any worse than a stir-crazy colonist pilgrim’s life.”
Aries rolled her eyes. At least he could find humor in their situation. “We’re not going to steal anything, are we?”
Striker glanced back and grinned. “
Only an age-old ship from the dead.”
The thought of stealing a ship from a dead alien species made Aries’ skin prickle, like when she watched the caskets of the deceased Lifers shoot into space. Goosebumps blossomed on her body. She’d put her hair up in a bun because of the heat, and now the back of her neck felt naked and cold. She reached back behind her head and undid the pin, letting her hair fall protectively around her shoulders.
The goosebumps didn’t go away.
The corridor spiraled down a central shaft, each level colder and darker than the one above. Striker had long, confident strides, and Aries had to jog to keep up, lest she be left behind in the shadows. They came to a glass door leading into a room nestled in the bottom of the ship.
Striker traced a dramatic arc of a symmetrical hieroglyph and the door opened, releasing a mist that pooled over their boots. His gaze traveled the contours of her head, as if he noticed she’d brought down her long hair, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he gestured toward the door. “Ladies first.”
Aries took a breath and walked in. The room was as long and wide as the ship, spanning the length of the main deck on the New Dawn. Pillars came down from the ceiling in rows, so many rows it looked like the columns from ancient Rome, only these structures were made of glass.
“I don’t understand.”
“Look closer.”
Aries stepped toward the nearest column. Cosmic dust frosted the glass. She peered through the silver-white at a pale oval-tipped object lying inside. Aries wiped the dust from the case, shedding glitter on the floor.
“Oh, by the Guide.” She pressed her fingers harder on the glass. “Are they alive?”
“I don’t know.” Striker shrugged, although there was nothing inconsequential in the gesture. “Probably not.”
He bent over to take a look for himself, his wavy black hair brushing against her cheek. When he turned back to her, his eyes sparkled like a child at Christmas. “I know of a place to take them to see if they’ll hatch.”
Chapter Seven
Hidden Map
The tent flaps rustled in the breeze. Barliss guzzled his wheat beer, shifting his gaze around the desert camp. Men guarded all sides, but an attack over the sand didn’t scare him. His eyes strayed to the sand underneath his feet. The big ones attacked from underground.
“Requesting entry.”
Smith’s voice startled him. He cursed his jumpy nerves and re-buttoned his shirt. Never could he look less than professional, even in the privacy of his own tent. He was the commander of this expedition, after all, and the commander was never off duty.
“Entry granted.”
Smith pushed his way through the tent flaps and bowed. Redness flushed his face, and orange desert sand smeared his white uniform. “Lieutenant Barliss, I have news to report.”
“Stand up, Skyman.” Barliss waved impatiently. “Tell me what you’ve found.”
Smith pulled a locator out of his pocket. “While I searched for signs of Miss Ryder’s equipment, my devices picked up a signal for a mineral deposit.” He handed him the locator. “There’s a conglomeration of lithium under the plateau on the southern side of camp.”
Barliss studied the readings, flicking back and forth between the numbers and a large blob of blue-black dominating the screen. Currently, the New Dawn’s energy supplies were on conservation mode. The first few generations had eaten away at the provisions faster than predicted. The splotch on the locator represented enough lithium to ensure the people of the New Dawn could live comfortably for the remaining generations, until the ship reached Paradise 21.
“This is amazing.” Barliss shook his head. “Probably the greatest find in all of the New Dawn’s history.” His eyes darted back to Smith. “Have you told anyone of these readings?”
“No, sir.” Smith held his head high. “I wanted to let you know first.”
Barliss ejected the memory card of the locator and slipped it into his pocket before offering the device back to Smith. “Well done, Skyman. I’ll see to it the commander is notified immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Smith bowed. He waited at the tent flap, scratching his head awkwardly, as if he expected the card to be returned to him, or more accolades to come of his work. Barliss estimated he wouldn’t push for the credit. Young enough to not challenge injustice, Smith didn’t have the cunning to turn his efforts into a greater yield.
“That’s all, Smith. Ready the team for the morning shift.”
Smith hesitated before ducking out. In that moment, Barliss caught his eye and squinted a warning. The subordinate cowered. “Until tomorrow, sir.”
As the tent flaps rustled back into place, Barliss smiled and pushed the hailing button on his communicator. He hid the bottle of wheat beer under his cot and straightened his uniform.
The late hours of night were settling in, and he was surprised to get an answering beep from the central station. Did Commander Gearhardt never sleep? Barliss turned on the monitor, and the commander’s pale face glowed on the screen like a ghost. Wires ran from his forehead into the shadows in the control room, reminding Barliss of a spider resting in the middle of his web in the bio-dome.
“Lieutenant Barliss?”
“Yes, Commander. I have new information regarding the status of our operation.”
“How diligent of you to contact me at this late hour to keep me updated.”
Barliss wondered if he was being sarcastic. He cleared his throat. “I’m always at your command.”
“Right, right.” The commander’s words sounded faint, as if he’d fade away. “Tell me of the progress and your news.”
“A large lithium deposit was found under my watch. Enough to power generations. It can guarantee our colony’s success.”
Commander Gearhardt’s head fell back as if the news had hit him in the face. “You’re sure of this?”
“I’ll send you the readings right now, Commander.” Barliss plugged the memory card of the locator into his computer and transferred the information. The commander’s eyes flickered as his brain worked, synapses firing as he reviewed the numbers. Barliss sat back, awaiting recognition and praise.
The commander’s pupils regained focus and stared at Barliss. “Excellent work, Lieutenant. As you know, our time is precious. We’ve already fallen a decade behind on our voyage and are forced to conserve our fuel. More and more of our naturally grown food is dying and the food generators are working overtime. I’ll send mining crews down there right away. We’ll take all we can before we leave.”
“I recommend you put Smith in charge of the mining excavations.” Barliss ran his fingers over the end of the memory card in careful thought. “He’s done a superb job so far and has great knowledge of the terrain.”
By appointing Smith, Barliss succeeded in removing him from his own operation, so the subordinate would have a harder time finding a way to pay him back once he realized Barliss had profited from the findings. On the other hand, the new position might be enough to pacify Smith’s desire for recognition and keep the man’s mouth shut. Either way, it was brilliant politics.
The commander flicked a finger and a screen beside him came alive with new information. “Smith is appointed. Now the search and rescue progress: is there anything more to report?”
Barliss’ neck tensed, but he kept his voice even. “Nothing since my last report, Commander.”
The commander nodded, wires moving. “I reviewed your report.”
Barliss was surprised and pleased he’d gone through the entire three-page document so soon. “Thank you, sir.”
“You believe there’s still hope for finding Miss Ryder?”
Barliss stifled an undercurrent of doubt. “I do, sir.”
“Good. Our people cannot suffer another blow to their morale. You are always diligent, and your resolve is unwavering.”
Barliss bowed his head. “I try.”
“Continue with the search crews after the appropriate rest period.”
&nb
sp; “Affirmative, Commander.”
“Thank you for your efforts, Lieutenant. You are a blessing to this crew.”
The screen went blank. Barliss let out a breath of relief, but it was short-lived. He bent down and retrieved his wheat beer, tilting the bottle up for the last sip. He’d expected the treat would improve his desolate mood, but it was only a drop in an ocean of aggravation. The conversation with the commander had been going well until his failure with Aries had been addressed.
If he didn’t find Aries now, he’d look like a fool.
…
Aries stared at the eggs. They were literally the manifestation of all her dreams come true. She’d wanted to be a biologist for as long as she could remember, but the New Dawn’s computers had charted her engineering destiny.
“You’re planning on bringing them out and hatching them?”
“Is it so hard to believe a space pirate isn’t in it for his own good?”
She could feel her face burning. “You’re going to have to give me more than ten minutes to undo a lifetime of the prejudices I was taught.”
Striker laughed lightly and put his hand on her shoulder. His voice was calmer. “Let’s get back upstairs and I’ll make you dinner, okay?”
Aries took in a deep breath but couldn’t respond. Everything was happening so fast. First, she’d been on the New Dawn, eating breakfast with Barliss, then she’d crash-landed an escape pod, and now she stood on an abandoned alien ship underneath the desert. What next? A dinner date with a pirate?
She’d wanted freedom. She’d gotten a bizarre taste of the surreal.
Striker placed his hand gently under her arm. “Aries, you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just a lot to take in.”
“I’m sure.” He gave her a sympathetic smile, and she found herself entranced by him. She admired his desire to help another civilization. His optimism was contagious. In a world where everything was preplanned, Striker broke the mold, and she was drawn to him for it.
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