by K. F. Breene
“No. It was out of charge. I left it.”
He nodded and then glanced at the controls when the buzz of the comms went active again. They were too low to hear, but it wasn’t a mystery what they were saying.
“Can you think of anything else to get them off our tails?” he asked.
“I can.” Roe stood and made his way to the console. “Get us to the outer sector, and I can order a unit to blow them out of the sky. Just don’t get the whole fleet on our asses.”
“No promises.” Ryker reached for Millicent. His eyes softened as he ran his thumb along her chin. “One last sprint, huh? One last escape attempt?”
“We can do it.” She put her hand to his chest. “Don’t lose hope now.”
He exhaled and bent to kiss her before turning back to the console. “Time to go to work.”
“Double Twelve to headquarters, come in, headquarters,” Ryker said into the comm system.
“Buckle up,” Millicent said to the others before pulling a strap from the wall and encircling her waist. It would keep her standing through the evasive maneuvers. “Handy.”
Roe sat and then brought up a hologram in front of him. Trent squeezed Marie tight.
“Double Twelve, go ahead.”
“We have a lead. Going to check it out. Just one lead, and then we’ll bring it in. Over.”
“That’s a negative, Double Twelve. Bring it home.”
“I look forward to the write up, headquarters. Out.” The craft fell. Plummeted.
Millicent squeezed her eyes shut while reaching for the stabilizing handle. Her hand groped through the air. The strap cut into her back as her stomach did loop-de-loops in time to the craft spinning through the air. Or maybe that’s just how it felt. She might’ve screamed. Definitely threw up in her mouth a little. And her head bounced off the wall as they shot forward.
“What the fuck is happening?” she said, out of breath. A trickle of wetness slid down her temple. Blood from a cut, probably. With all the adrenaline, she couldn’t feel a thing.
“I don’t need uppers, honey buns.” The craft veered again, careening to the side in a spin that shouldn’t have been possible. “These vehicles are dumb as hell and weak as shit, but they can sure cut through the sky.”
“We need to talk about nicknames,” Millicent said through clenched teeth, holding on for dear life. The people in the back were screaming. Except for Marie, who was laughing.
The world righted. Something zipped by the craft, one meter away. “Was that an intersection marker?” Honking announced a swerving craft.
Was that screaming as the craft went by?
Surely she couldn’t hear them screaming, could she?
“Get to that console, Millie,” Ryker said. “Try to disable that craft somehow.”
“I should’ve learned about their guidance systems,” she muttered.
“I got it,” Roe said in a gruff voice. He worked at the harness so it would let him lean forward. “Just warn me when you’re going to get creative with the flying, eh, ace?”
“Are the nicknames a security thing?” Millicent asked in dismay as she brought up a mirror of Roe’s screen.
“I need to know what ship I’m looking at,” Roe said.
She ran through the conglomerate notices to find the right identifier, connected to the ship, and then pushed the access to the screen.
“Having you around will spoil me,” Roe said, his hand flying over and through the hologram. “Fast as lightning and access I’ve never been privy to.”
“Need you faster still. They’re on our ass,” Ryker warned.
“I’m on it.” Roe cut the power to the pursuing ship’s thrusters. The craft’s system overrode the action immediately, bringing them back online.
“I got it.” Millicent took control through the console and then worked at the system, disabling its programed override. “But they can just switch off the system guidance . . .”
“They’ll have to switch to manual now,” Roe said. “Security vehicles still give their drivers the benefit of the doubt.”
“But . . . those engines are largely run with a computer. And the computer can be fooled into a glitch, causing issues with the engine . . .” Millicent looked through the other ship’s schematics. It was gibberish. “We need a mechanic on board.”
“Those types of things can’t be changed midflight,” Roe said. “Or else pirates would have a helluva lot more power. As would we.”
Millicent frowned at the console. “Where there’s a connection, there’s a way. I have to think about this.”
“Hang on,” Ryker said.
The craft lurched to the side. She saw only sky out of her window before squeezing her eyes shut again. Thank Holy her stomach was empty, because if it hadn’t been to start, it would be now.
They rolled the other way as an explosion went off behind them.
Or was it to the side? They were moving too fast for her to gauge.
“Are they trying to wound us or bring us down?” Roe asked through what sounded like a tight throat. Marie was still laughing.
“Trying to slow us down, not bring us down,” Ryker yelled over the whine of the motors. “They aren’t trying to kill us. Good news.”
“Ten kilometers from the outer sector,” Millicent said, half wishing she hadn’t opened her eyes.
“I need to work the screen,” Roe said in an elevated voice. Millicent could still barely hear him.
“You’ll have to do it while hanging from your ear,” Ryker yelled, obviously hearing Roe through the inner speakers.
“Hanging from my what?”
The craft tilted. A zip of fire shot by. Buildings surrounded them on both sides, the space between them not much larger than the craft.
“Oh Holy—ahhh!” Millicent grabbed the strap and hung on as an explosion went off.
“This level of skill is above your pay grade,” Ryker yelled.
The craft shot out from the tiny space and careened left. Millicent cracked an eye. The fuzzy numbers bounced around the screen. “Seven, no six! Six kilometers!”
“Running out of tricks,” Ryker said. “And maneuvering fuel. This craft isn’t up for this.”
Something knocked the craft as a boom filled Millicent’s ears. The vehicle shook, jarring her body, then shivered as Ryker yelled, “Missed.”
“Missed?” Millicent said, her stomach now wishy-washy. It twisted as the numbers kept jiggling.
“They were aiming for one of the engines. They got the rear guard.”
“Five kilometers. Pull something out of your ass,” Millicent shouted.
“I’m not into that, cupcake, but for you, I’ll make an exception.” The craft rose into the sky before darting to the side, headed straight for a building. Millicent screamed and then felt her face melt off as the craft swooped upward. She hit off the wall as Ryker maneuvered again, no longer able to tell which direction he’d turned. Now just wondering when they’d hit the ground. Or a building. Or one of the many honking vessels.
“I’m . . . set . . .” Roe grunted.
“How . . . how . . .” Millicent swallowed back stomach acid and shook her head.
“How long, love?” Ryker asked.
She cracked an eye open while being squeezed painfully in the strap as she lay mostly sideways. A jiggling number greeted her. Along with more stomach acid as she threw up a little. “Three.” She couldn’t do much better than a groan.
“Three kilometers,” Roe yelled out.
“I know. I got it up here. Just wanted her to enjoy the action. Two. Get ready, Roe. We’re about to get fired on—”
Millicent groaned with the next wild careen. The motors emitted a horrible grinding sound. The whole thing shook. An explosion sounded a ways off. Ryker laughed. Trent screamed—kept screaming, actually. He’d barely stopped since Ryker had gotten going.
“Ready. We’re ready. We need them to be somewhat stable, though,” Roe yelled out. “Get this done and we’re sailin
g.”
The motors whined again as the craft tilted. And kept tilting. Trent’s scream increased in pitch. Millicent stared at the console, upside down. Bodies fell from where they’d been stashed, smacking against the ceiling. No one had thought to secure them against going upside down . . .
“How the hell are you doing this?” she yelled, the g-force tearing at her. The engines’ pitch as high as Trent’s.
“The craft will cut out in five . . . ,” Ryker said, “four . . .”
“Cut out? Are you crazy?” Millicent screamed.
“Yes, he is!” Trent yelled.
“Three . . . two . . . Now’s the time, Roe. They are about to fire. One!”
A bang. Smoke puffed up around their feet. The engines cut out. It was eerily quiet, save for Trent’s screaming . . . before gravity sucked them down.
“We’re all gonna die!” Trent shouted.
A rushing filled Millicent’s ears as she chewed on her thumping heart. Like some sort of jet engine, it took over her awareness until she couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Missiles in three . . . two . . .”
“No more counting,” she begged Roe.
An explosion rattled the craft, shaking Millicent within the strap. She slid toward the ground—or ceiling, she guessed—a little more. A lovely display of fire lit up the side of the craft. It gushed against the windows and promised death.
“Now get us out of here!” Roe yelled.
The fire drifted away, silently. They were still falling. Headfirst, they were dropping out of the sky.
“On it,” Ryker yelled.
The engine coughed, turning over. And over. Not catching. It coughed again. Then clicked.
“Well, that’s not good,” Ryker said, still sounding so confident.
“Oh please,” Millicent begged, and swallowed down a horribly foul taste in her mouth. Add stomach to the list of things she was chewing on while hanging upside down with terror racing through her bloodstream.
A banging sounded from the front. Then something metallic. The next cough turned into a roar. A grinding, growling type of roar that did not sound promising.
“Here we go,” Ryker said.
The vessel shook, and then flipped. Millicent struck the wall. Her head lolled. She didn’t bother to right herself. She just hung there, her arms limp, as the craft steadied.
“Nothing to it,” Ryker said, his tone pleased.
Millicent burped fire.
“Here we go, Millie. I’ve got you.” Millicent let Ryker slip an arm around her waist and haul her up. “C’mon, sweetie. Here we go, Marie. Okay, girls, just through here.”
After limping to the edge of the city in a craft that clearly had no idea what it was capable of—much like all but one of the passengers—they exited through a gate in LA’s security wall manned by one of Roe’s people. They got a nod as the hobbling vehicle went through. The siren that went off was silenced.
They’d docked beside a large craft with a company’s logo written on the side.
“Is this going to hold up to scrutiny? Because I need a break before I work another console,” Millicent said as she wiped her mouth.
“This is a legit vessel. We have friends everywhere,” Roe said, stepping to her other side. She wasn’t sure if he was helping her or disguising his wobbly legs.
She decided she didn’t much care.
“How is Trent fairing?” she asked. A large door was opened. They got in line with the vessel’s staffers and entered without anyone raising an eyebrow.
“He fainted and hasn’t yet come to. He’s being carried,” Ryker answered. “It’s been a long couple of days.”
“What comes next?” Millicent asked as they entered a large space where various-sized boxes, all with the company’s logo, were being stacked.
Roe motioned them to the right, where they went through a door and then took another right, finally stopping in a small room with two rows of benches. “Now we sleep until it’s time for the next leg of our journey.”
“And what is that?” Millicent asked, sitting gratefully.
“The rocket. Getting off this rock.”
Chapter 27
“This is it?” Millicent asked as she stared up at a giant rocket ship. Rain beat down on her hood, and the intense chill of it pushed against her clothing and the scarf covering her face. She’d seen the design long ago while researching this endeavor, a clunky vessel towering into the sky.
“This is it.” Roe led them to an elevator and got in with them. “We have a half an hour until takeoff. We’re cutting it extremely close.”
Millicent watched out the windows as the torrid gray sky shot lightning at the barren and desecrated ground. “How does it exist? I mean . . .” She licked her parched lips. “How can you keep it operational?”
“The conglomerates don’t come out here. Why would they? There’s nothing.” Roe held the elevator so they could exit onto a metal crate leading to a small doorway in the side of the rocket. “The rocket has specially designed tech to mask its energy and heat signature. We have people in each conglomerate and government who manually mask its trajectory through the sky. It’s been a long road. We used to just race the conglomerates, making it out of the atmosphere as often as we didn’t. But now . . . we should be okay.”
“Should be?” Ryker growled, holding Marie.
“These rockets aren’t the newest tech you’ll ever see. One in a hundred still blows up. But they are as good as we’ve got.”
After stepping out of the elevator and going through a small door, Millicent looked down at a collection of four pods. Each was a large oval with a sort of shiny beige material making up the sides and bottom. They circled and were connected to an older supercomputer, the screen blank. “And the conglomerates don’t follow you up anymore?”
“They have, but the combination of the perilous journey with the high fatality rate, the loss of time, and the astronomical cost of harvesting the resources and bringing them back has stopped their progress in that direction. Not forever, I’m sure, but for a while. So our main concern is getting off-planet. Well, and getting people who can afford the trip out of the conglomerate.”
“And this is?” Ryker pointed at the four pods.
“This is floor one. The other four floors are already filled. The others have been there a couple months. This is the last. You—us—we’re the last.” Roe gestured. “The child will need to go in with one of you.”
“Let’s circle back to the high fatality rate?” Trent said, picking at his nail as he looked down at the pods.
“In essence, you’ll be put into a biological limbo. For ease of understanding, you’ll be asleep, but you won’t age. The journey takes two years, give or take. You’ll go to sleep now and wake up when we’re there. But some . . . haven’t woken up.” Roe shrugged. “This is not a guaranteed mode of travel.”
“Can a child . . .” Millicent swallowed back her fear.
“We’ve taken children before—usually clones. Over one year of age, they are no worse off than a healthy adult. Older people, though . . .” Roe shifted.
Trent looked at the ground, an uncomfortable look crossing his face.
“And you’re going with us?” Millicent asked, knowing Roe counted himself among those facing a higher fatality rate. “You make this trip often?”
“Twice. Once there. Once back.” A chime filled the room. Roe glanced up at the low ceiling. Then to the pod. “But I need to train my replacement.”
“Who’s that?” Ryker asked with a low growl.
“None of your concern,” Roe said. He motioned at the pods. “In or out. We have to go.”
Millicent stared at Ryker for a long moment. And then uttered the words that ripped at her heart. “You should take her. You have a better ability to heal. If something should happen, you can protect her better than I can.”
Ryker set Marie down for a moment. His strong arms crushed Millicent to his chest before his lips hit hers
in a bruising kiss. “We’ll be okay. I’ll see you on the other side.”
Tears fell down Millicent’s cheeks as she nodded, not trusting her voice. She let the warmth in her heart rush through her body; that strong, deep feeling that wasn’t sexual in any way. It wasn’t the same as she felt for Marie, but it was just as strong. “You were right. There is more than one form of love. And you hold one of them in my heart.”
“I love you, too. But this isn’t good-bye.” He kissed her again, deep and sensuous and confident. “We still need to make another baby, princess. I look forward to trying right after we wake up.”
She ran her hand down his cheek; her eyes blurred with tears. Next she bent to her daughter and pulled her into a tight hug. “Okay, baby. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night-night, Mama,” Marie said, wrapping her little arms around Millicent’s neck. “See you ’morrow?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yes.” Millicent tucked Marie into Ryker’s arms. The chime sounded again. A small shudder ran through the floor and then the walls.
“We have to go,” Roe said.
Millicent squared off with Trent. “Glad to have you along.” She hugged him, the feeling weird. She felt his awkward pats on her back.
“We’ll be okay. This will be fine.” Trent nodded, his shaking voice relaying his worry. “It’s fine.” He shrugged. “You can get in first.”
She stuck out her hand for Roe, who shook it firmly. “Thank you,” she said.
“I’ll look forward to getting that code scan of Toton’s craft back.” He pointed at her suit. “And don’t worry about the tech you’ve been carting around. It’ll be stored away to meet you there.”
She nodded, and then took one last look at Ryker and Marie, who were settling into their pod, before lowering herself into her own. A cover slid across, closing her in. The interior lit up, showing a beautiful picture of green meadows and a distant crystal-clear waterfall. She smiled as a strange smell affected her, making her dizzy. Before she drifted off to sleep, she felt liquid fill in around her, probably an oxygen-rich serum, high in nutrients.
Her last thought was They forgot to take out our implants . . .