“Six years?” Arne pushed his fists against the wall, leaning in close. “They knew where she was. All this time.”
Roar was just as confused. “Why didn’t they do anything?”
Nils thought for a moment. “They probably put the tracker in her to make sure she stayed put. The minute you guys showed up, they were trying to stop you from leaving Earth.”
Arne spun and snatched the canister from Nils. “Is it still tracking?”
Good question. Roar looked to Nils, waiting for an answer.
“I don’t know. Honest.” Nervous tension stretched through the room. “But,” Nils said, “there’s a pretty good chance someone will come after it.” He held out a hand for the canister, and Arne gave it back. Nils tapped the glass neat the creature’s head, like an Earth octopus. “See this little mark here?”
Roar leaned closer for a better look. Along the creature’s skull, a little above its crown, a pinpoint-sized dot flashed from black to white. He bit back a string of curses. “Get it off the ship.”
Arne yanked the canister away from Nils and ran from the room, Roar and the others close on his heels. When Roar realized where Arne was headed, he burst ahead to prepare the airlock for ejection. He hit the panel and it opened, revealing two switches. When Arne was close, Roar threw the first switch. The airlock proximity alarm beeped as Arne reached Roar’s side, and Roar threw the waste port open. Arne shoved the canister in. Roar twisted the knob and hit the second switch.
The canister shot out into space and kept going, with nothing to stop it and nothing to slow it down. Roar let out a long, slow breath, his muscles relaxing a fraction.
Nils pressed his face to the airlock window. “Is that it?”
“That’s it,” Arne said.
“It seems too easy.” Nils glanced at Roar.
It does. Roar bit his tongue. He wasn’t going to count his blessings just yet. They had to stay on high alert until he felt certain the Woede weren’t coming after them.
He leaned on the panel, resting his chin in his hands. “How the hell did a Woede tracker get inside her in the first place?”
Rika shook her head. “Hard to say. What’s most important is that we got it out of her. And that they don’t have a way to track us now, either.”
Roar stood so fast he almost knocked Arne out of the chair beside him. “That’s it.”
“What’s it?” Arne stared at him in confusion.
“If we can’t trace the ship, I can trace Leda.”
Oline snapped her fingers. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
A smirk lifted the edge of his mouth. “For once, let me bask in the sensation of coming up with the idea.”
“Oh, all right.” She spun and let her fingers dance over the panel, but Roar caught her grin.
Arne stood, stretching out his bulky frame. “If I’m not needed, I thought I’d go prepare something for my mother and Nils.”
Oline nodded but didn’t look away from the screen. “Good idea.”
“And I’ll bring something to the rest of you when I’m finished.”
“Thanks,” Roar said.
When Arne was gone, Roar paced the bridge, wondering the best way to go about tracing Leda using his mind. He tried relaxing and focusing his thoughts before with little luck. When he wasn’t thinking about the weapon, just walking around, he found her straight away. But since he couldn’t go walking out in space the same way he had on the island, he decided to suit up and relax in zero gravity, and wait for the pull.
He told Oline his idea and she agreed.
“On one condition.” She spun away from the screen and faced him. “You keep your comm on at all times so I can track you if any more surprises come our way.”
Roar almost laughed. “Deal.” Oline turned back to the panel, and Roar leaned over her shoulder to see how she was coming along. Letters and numbers blurred on the screen. “You’ll be fine here on your own until Arne returns?”
“Yep.” She didn’t stop typing.
First Roar made a detour to the brig to check on Petrus, but he wasn’t there. Roar knew where he’d be, though, and a few minutes later he stepped onto the dark observation deck on the top level. Petrus had shut the lights off and covered the clear dome above, preferring instead to stare up at recorded projections of the Aurelis night sky, above the city they were cloistered in with the Elders.
Spotting Petrus’s still form in the second-to-last row of seats on the far side of the room, Roar hurried over and took the chair beside him. Bright violet lights danced in the sky and twinkling stars peeked through thin wisps of cloud. He leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head, and stared at the scene, his chest warming at the familiar sight.
“Just like home, hmm?” Roar tilted his head to his friend.
Petrus nodded and let out a contented sigh. After today, it was a good sound to hear.
He told Petrus of his plan, and Petrus agreed that it might be easier than the constant stop-start road they were stuck on. For a short while, Roar stayed with Petrus on the observation deck, memories of nights like this bringing him a few moments of peace and helping clear his mind for the task ahead. When he was ready, he left the deck and went in search of a suit, then made his way to the nearest airlock.
He couldn’t face the shuttle bay he and Leda had gone out of the day before he screwed everything up between them, and any other shuttle bay would only remind him of that day. Besides, an airlock was easier for one man to control. Less systems interrupted, and Oline was using a lot of power to run her scan.
Roar pulled on his helmet and stepped into the airlock.
Chapter Twenty-Two
For two days, Roar spent hours at a time in a RomTek suit out in the space surrounding Equinox, losing hope with the passing of each minute. His injuries—courtesy of that Aurelite traitor—had long since healed, but the fact that he couldn’t find Leda’s trail rankled until he had a constant headache. The stink of failure burned his nostrils.
He hit the control for the airlock and pulled himself inside. The moment gravity came back, he felt the weight of the suit pressing down on him. Oxygen pumped into the small space around him in powerful gusts mimicking snow. His lips twitched as he recalled Leda’s distaste of snow and cold things.
Quick as the smile came, it vanished again. He missed her—something he hadn’t expected. From the moment the Elders recognized Roar as the Jäger, his life had become all about training. All about the weapon. Wanting something for himself? Unheard of. He hadn’t felt that intense craving…until now. He wanted her. Leda. Not just because she was the weapon, and he needed her to save Aurelis. He missed the sound of her laughter, her independence, her humor. He missed the feel of her in his arms when he woke up in the morning. The way she sighed in her sleep. Her mouth on his, and how she took charge. They didn’t have the rest of their lives together. From the way Leda had pulled away from him, maybe they couldn’t be together at all. But it didn’t matter when he couldn’t even find her.
He pulled his helmet off, disconnecting the neural link, and ran a hand over his sweat-covered brow. He’d reached a point of searching where the road ended at a dense jungle no one had explored, and he couldn’t decide how to venture on. Oline couldn’t locate any sign of the other ship, saying they must be using a technology far superior to Equinox, which meant whoever built the other ship had planned this, far before Roar and the others left on their mission. No matter the reasons behind the betrayal. Those responsible had condemned the lives of everyone on Aurelis.
Standing in the hall beside the airlock, Roar stripped off the RomTek suit and placed it in the case on the wall and set the cleaning cycle. His clothes were damp with sweat and clung to his body, making him itch. He knew what his next step should be, but Elder Esfric had ingrained in Roar as a child that he should always face a difficult situation clean and comfortable.
A wash and a clean set of clothes didn’t clear the fog from his mind. He headed for Arne’s cabin and
knocked before he had a chance to back out. The door opened, and Arne smiled, waving him in. Roar entered the room, noting the mix of male and female touches in the room. Arne and Rika were definitely sharing this cabin.
The cabin was set up much like the rest. A bed and dresser at the far end of the room, with a bathroom to one side. Sofa and screen for entertainment in the middle. At the front of each room was the dining alcove, with a table and four chairs to one side of the door, and a meal prep area on the other. Each cabin had a food replicator, too.
As he faced Arne, a lead ball of guilt dropped in Roar’s stomach.
“Can we talk?” Roar glanced at Rika, sitting at the table with a file and medical pages spread out in front of her.
Arne reached for Rika’s hand. “You’d better leave us alone.”
Hesitant at first, Rika ceded to Arne’s request. She stood, taking her files with her. “I’ll be in sick bay if you need me.”
A tense few minutes passed once Rika left. Roar sat down in an empty chair at the table near the front of the cabin. He felt like someone had plugged him into a charging station. He shut his eyes and gathered his thoughts. When he looked across the table, Arne sat waiting, patient and thoughtful.
Roar took a breath and began. “We can’t find her. I can’t—”
“It’s only been a couple of days.” Arne placed his hands flat on the table. “Roar, it’s just not logical to expect instant results all the time. That isn’t the way the universe works.”
“But this is my purpose. I’m supposed to find her, and I can’t. No matter what I do, there’s nothing.” Roar hung his head. “There’s nothing.”
The man was silent for a beat. “Sometimes the greatest feats are borne out of desperation.”
Roar lifted his head. “Are you saying I’m not desperate enough, and that’s why I can’t find her?”
“I said nothing of the sort.” Arne’s eyes sparked, his lips tipped up. “I figured an upstanding Aurelite such as yourself would recognize the quote of one of the great early philosophers.”
Realizing his mistake, Roar sighed and shook his head. Elder Æthelric would be ashamed—his star pupil, failing at the only task he’d ever been given. Failing. Failing. Failing.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Arne stood and pushed his chair in. “Maybe we’re doing what we’re supposed to be doing, right now.”
Roar had never gone for the passive “let things come to you as they’re meant to” bull. He’d rather take action. “I can’t sit around and wait anymore.”
“Just imagine how my mother feels.”
Roar paused. Inger had been waiting her whole life for something to happen, and then one day, along came Roar and the crew of Equinox. Passive might work for her, but he was losing his cool the longer Leda was gone. “You think we should wait for her to come to us? What if she can’t? What if—” He couldn’t finish.
“If you keep this up, you’ll make yourself sick with worry. Leda’s stronger than any of us know.”
“So I keep hearing. But we don’t know who that woman was or why she took Leda.”
Arne took a few steps across the room to his replicator and hit a few buttons. A second later the scent of coffee filled the air. “Think about what she said, how she acted. Play detective if you have to. Even if you come up empty handed, you’ll still feel like you’ve done something in the meantime.” He turned, coffee mug in hand, and faced Roar. “There’s got to be something in it, though. Why else would she have taken Leda?”
Roar shook his head. “I don’t know. She did seem anxious when I mentioned that Leda was in surgery.”
“You should have seen her face when she flew into sick bay. I thought she was going to faint from the sight.”
Roar didn’t want to picture Leda, lying there, her body opened up. And I wasn’t there for her. “What did she say?”
“Not much. Mostly ‘do as I say or I’ll hurt you’ stuff. Is there a security section that carries surveillance of all main areas of the ship?”
There was. Roar could have kicked himself. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Arne was already headed for the door. “Let’s go over everything together. Two heads are better than one.”
Arne looked how Roar felt: dejected. They’d spent several days poring over video logs in the hopes of finding some scrap of a hint about the woman who took Leda. So far, all they’d managed was her name—Tuva—and that her henchmen seemed loyal.
Something floated by Roar’s head. He blinked, thinking he’d been up for too long and was seeing things. Then another flash of bright, pale blue drifted into his line of vision.
“You should get some rest,” Arne said as he leaned back in his seat.
Roar nodded and wiped the grit from his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He was still unsure if he’d seen something or if his mind was playing tricks on him. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he scanned the room, squinting his eyes, as though it might help. Nothing.
Arne stretched out in his chair. “Something tells me you’re not going to sleep any time soon.”
“I don’t think I could sleep.”
“Me, either, but we’ve got to rest up if we’re going to be any use. I think I’ll grab something to eat, then crash. What are you going to do?”
Roar wasn’t sure, but he had to do something. “Food,” he said. “Then, I don’t know.”
Hours later, Oline stepped onto the bridge and sent Nils to check on Petrus. Roar knew what was coming. She’d stopped by security while he and Arne were scouring the video logs, and she’d pulled Roar aside for a minute. He’d held his anger in check as she spoke, but when she finished, Roar had punched the wall next to her head and stormed back inside security, locking the door from the inside. Since then he hadn’t answered her comms or summons.
Now, he purposely avoided her by making it seem like he was too deep in scans and system checks to notice her. But Oline didn’t buy the act.
“We need to discuss something.”
Roar firmed his lips, his fingers working furiously on the panel.
“I’m talking to you.”
“Kind of busy here,” he murmured.
“Have you given any thought to what I mentioned the other day?”
“I’m still kind of hoping you were kidding about that.” Sparing the screen a brief glance, he spun the chair to face Oline and treated her with a hot glare. In her hands she held two tablets, and he cursed himself for forgetting. They were supposed to be going over the remnants of a virus Oline had discovered skulking in their systems. She’d dated it back to the day of Leda’s abduction.
“I wasn’t kidding.” She passed him a tablet.
Clutching the tablet in one hand, Roar stood and moved to the main viewscreen. At a flick of a button on his comm, he brought up the outside and stared at the nebula on the starboard side of Equinox, vibrant rainbow hues stretching as far as he could see. He couldn’t just leave. What if, somehow, Leda got away and came looking for them?
But what are the chances of that, really? Slim. They’d long since left the position Leda was taken from, and even if she somehow managed to memorize those coordinates, they were useless now. Tracking a ship in unknown space was difficult enough for the best navigators—pretty much all space was unknown to Leda.
Oline wanted to head back to Aurelis. Abandon Leda and Stein to whatever fate they faced. Deep down, Roar knew it was the right thing to do, but returning home without the weapon meant they’d lost. He shook his head. Going back meant giving up on Leda, and he wasn’t there yet. He had to see her, at least once more. Most importantly, he had to tell her how he felt about her.
Roar chewed the inside of his cheek and braced his hands on the table. “Why can’t you just give me more time? What if Leda’s out there right now, trying to get back to Equinox?”
Oline sat in front of one tablet and traced a finger down the side. “I can get the last of this virus figured out and cl
eaned from the ship in a week, tops.”
A week. Seven days. Better than nothing, and in that time, he might also be able to come up with a plan. Splitting up the crew was mutiny, but he wasn’t about to abandon Leda. “You’re breaking the news to her family though.”
“I know.” She paused. “I’m sorry, Roar. About Leda. But we can’t abandon Aurelis for one person. Even if she is the weapon.”
“I know.” He turned to the window again. “Doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.”
Oline came and stood next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s strong. Resourceful.”
But is she resourceful enough to find Equinox after we’re gone?
“Maybe she’ll find her way there somehow.”
“Maybe.” He couldn’t keep hypothesizing. “Do you need my help tonight?” Roar hoped she’d say no. Just the thought of sitting in the same room as her made his skin itch.
Oline took her seat again. “I can manage. You look like you could use some sleep.”
The draught Nils had given him earlier was wearing off. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“I’d rather call on Petrus. Give him something to do instead of moping around.”
Roar frowned at her thoughtlessness, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Don’t give him a hard time. We don’t know what he’s dealing with.”
Oline snorted. “If you think that, you’re blind.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s so obvious. Think about it, Roar. Before that woman showed up and took Leda, Petrus was fine. Well, fine for him. And now?”
Anger burned in his chest. “Are you saying Petrus and Leda…?”
“No, you idiot. Who else is missing?”
Stein. “You don’t think—”
“They knew each other before this mission? I’m pretty sure they did. In what capacity, I can’t be certain, but all the signs are there.”
Roar’s mind flashed back to the scene in the shuttle above Earth when Stein was drunk, and Petrus gave him hell. Roar shook his head. “I must not be good at reading signs.”
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