by T. M. Catron
Solaris quickly closed the door.
“What are they doing?” Rance asked.
He shook his head. “I vote we use another exit. I’m too tired to fight anyone right now.”
“Me too.”
This time, Rance led the way. But every door they cracked opened revealed at least a couple of guards.
“They aren’t Wizards, are they?” she asked after the third door.
“No, but the Wizards probably stationed these guys here while they were looking for your mother to make sure she didn’t escape out the back.”
Their journey took them down a different hall, away from the aquariums. The decor changed to utilitarian, and except for their clothes, the smell of water, salt, and fish disappeared. They were back in the public part of the building. The back exits disappeared too.
Rance and Solaris halted at the door that would take them out to the visitor sections. Rance stuck her hands under her armpits to try to warm them. Solaris tucked his staff into the back waistband of his jeans. His shirt had dried enough to hang more loosely. It concealed the weapon well enough.
“Hey,” Rance said, looking down a hall tucked into a corner. “I found another exit. Let’s check this before we try getting back to the front doors.”
She hurried down the hall, aware that there were cameras here. Aware that someone was probably watching them.
The door didn’t have a window in it. Rance took a deep breath, but she was too cold to stand there wondering if someone was on the other side. They could either take their chances with the crowds and security or with the one or two that might be stationed outside the door.
She opened the door.
This time, there were five men on the other side, watching the alley in the deepening twilight. All were armed, and they weren’t just carrying stunners, either. One of them turned as Rance peeked her head out. When he saw her, he shouted. The other four pivoted, aiming their blasters. Rance and Solaris slammed the door shut just as the shots pinged against the outside. It shook under the onslaught but held.
“Guess they aren’t the friendly type,” Rance said.
“Nope,” Solaris answered, and they broke into a run.
Behind them, the door crashed open against the wall. The pair turned right down the corridor and burst through a door into the visitor areas. Rance didn’t think the thugs would openly shoot at her and Solaris out here. Still, she didn’t want to find out. Solaris followed, and they moved deeper into the crowds, which were beginning to thin as the day wound down.
Even though Solaris hadn’t given a signal, his face had changed into one Rance had never seen before—light hair and dark, sunburnt skin. Rance looked at her hands. Hers looked sunburned, as well, as if they had both just got off the transport from Barton.
“Can you make it look like we didn’t just go swimming with our clothes on?”
Solaris nodded, and their clothes and hair changed, looking dry although Rance was still soaking wet.
“We’re running out of people to hide behind,” Solaris said, nodding to the thinning crowds.
“That hasn’t stopped you from using your abilities before. By the way,” Rance said as they passed a hall containing Medieval armor, “why didn’t you use them when those goons were throwing me into the tank?”
“I am sorry, Captain,” he said quietly. “I misjudged everything. It’s obvious that Museum security is working with the Wizards, or some of them have been paid off. If I had used my powers while they watched, or if any of them remembered something fishy, the Wizards would have known.”
“You could have used one of your mind-altering tricks.”
“It would have been a big risk. If the Wizards found out I was here, we’d never get out of this Museum. I would have either had to kill those goons or play dumb. But, I’m sorry I took a chance with your life.” Solaris looked like he meant it—fear was still etched all over his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.
“Guess you weren’t in the killing mood,” Rance muttered only half-jokingly. Solaris had been in a difficult situation, and she was far enough away from the reaper now to realize it.
Solaris’ face turned grim. “No,” he whispered. “But—” Solaris looked at Rance. “I came too close to losing you.”
Rance took a deep breath. “You were the one I was worried about. We’re okay. We made it.”
“Not quite yet.”
Rance glanced over her shoulder. Two armed guards searched the crowds behind them, wending their way toward the entrance. Although they had different faces, Rance and Solaris still stood over everyone’s heads. Blending in wouldn’t last long. Solaris should have made them shorter. “Do the Wizards always have their problems thrown into reaper tanks?”
“No, they didn’t use to.” Solaris frowned. “It’s very disconcerting.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
They passed another exhibit, one with androids dressed in Medieval costumes. Several of them wore capes and cloaks.
“Hey,” Rance said, holding out a hand for Solaris to stop. “I have an idea.”
She walked over to one of the androids, smiling. “What is this made out of?” Rance asked while keeping an eye on the door.
“No, Rance,” Solaris whispered defiantly. “I’m not wearing one of those.”
“I’m freezing,” she shot back. “And you owe me.”
“Most were made out of wool, milady,” the female android said, speaking in some crowd-pleasing accent that probably never existed.
Rance grabbed Solaris’ elbow and tugged him toward her so he couldn’t ease away. “Do you think we could try them on? What do you say, baby, try one and see how it looks?”
The android smiled. “Many of our visitors request to try them on, and that’s why we wear these reproductions so they can experience a piece of Medieval life for themselves.” The android eyed Rance’s height. “Maybe you should try on Luther’s cape,” she said, gesturing to a taller android across the hall.
“No,” Rance said, feeling desperate. “Yours is fine.”
She practically ripped the cape off of the android, who then insisted on helping Rance get her arms through the armholes.
Rance grabbed a passing android monk and made him remove his hooded cloak for Solaris. In two minutes, both of them had on hoods and cloaks that looked ridiculously short. The wool instantly began to warm Rance, though, and she gathered the cloak around her, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Can we wear these while we walk around?” Solaris asked the android.
“As long as you don’t leave this exhibit, you can wear it as long as you like,” the first android said. Then, she moved away.
Rance looked Solaris up and down. Ever since she’d found out he was a Galaxy Wizard, she’d wanted to see him in a cloak, and now might be the only chance she got.
Solaris caught her glance. “I thought you were mad at me?” he asked.
“I am,” she said, smirking. “This might make up for it a little. I have to admit, though, it looks absurd when it stops just above the knee.”
Solaris plucked the wool away from his body. “That will be better if we have to run.”
They worked their way around the perimeter of the exhibit, watching the androids and watching for thugs. They had just eased toward an exit when the first guards showed up. These also carried blasters, which gained them scared looks from visitors who hurried their children away.
The thugs began questioning people, holding up their hands to indicate Rance’s and Solaris’ heights. The android who had loaned Rance her cloak nodded in Rance’s direction.
The captain pulled her hood lower and bent her knees so she was level with the family standing beside her. “Come on,” she whispered.
She and Solaris crept out the door, walking in their half-crouch to hide how tall they were.
The ruse lasted for ten seconds.
“Stop,” someone behind commanded.
Rance and Solaris sto
od up straight and ran. Finally giving in to the need, Solaris used his magic to part the crowds. People moved out of his path, and the two of them sprinted for the front doors. Boots pounded the tile behind them. More shouts, some from visitors. Rance didn’t look back, but she guessed the thugs had drawn their weapons.
Security waited at the front doors, standing with tasers between them and freedom.
“Roote!” Rance hissed.
“I see them!”
Rance expected Solaris to use a shield to blow them back. Instead, the guards parted to let the couple though, disoriented by something Solaris did to them. He and Rance burst out into the evening air and ran down the steps. The sun was setting, and light filled the street. If Rance hadn’t been in a hurry, she would have thought the scene beautiful.
Just as her foot touched the last stair, a bright light whizzed past her ear. She ducked out of instinct and pivoted left. The thugs were following, carrying stunners and blasters. One even had a plasma rifle.
Someone on the street screamed.
Exposed and vulnerable, Rance sprinted down the street as they fired. Solaris was right beside her, and she heard him hiss as a blast skimmed across his shoulders. He stumbled a bit with the blow, regained his footing, and kept running.
The thugs didn’t seem to be military—their aim was terrible. The terrified crowds ran away from the commotion, and the goons ran after Rance and Solaris, who used the break in fire to disappear into an alley.
Rance called up a map of the city on her ZOD. “You okay?” she asked while she searched for a back route to get away.
“Yeah,” Solaris said, breathing heavily. He gave her a half-smile. "Maybe the cloak confused his aim."
"I told you—Galaxy Wizards should wear cloaks."
"Better that we take them off now, though, so they don't get caught on anything." Solaris removed his cloak and tossed it to the ground. Rance did the same. Then, they moved further into the darkness of the alley.
“Is there a way out?” he asked.
“Yes, make a right.”
Since it was a tourist town, even the alley was clean. Dumpsters lined the walls in neat rows, their lids closed and sealed shut. Here, the space between them wasn’t enough to hide either fugitive, so they ran on, glancing behind to make sure that plasma rifle wasn’t being aimed between their shoulder blades.
A blast of wind picked up Rance’s hair and tossed it into her face. Instead of magenta hair, she saw normal brown hair in the feeble light of the alley. Solaris had changed his face too. Was it because he had been injured?
They turned several more times, following the map, but also taking a more circuitous route back to the port.
“Are we close?” Solaris asked.
“Yes, it’s just a few streets over.” Rance finally looked at his back. A laser blast had burned an angry red patch across his shoulders, shredding the shirt. The wound had already cauterized, though, with no blood. And the skin had blistered and peeled back.
“How bad?” he asked.
“You’ll live.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“I just want to make sure we aren’t leading those goons straight to the ship.”
“We can play cat and mouse all night in these alleys. Eventually, we’ll have to make a run for it.”
“I hope everyone is back at the ship so we can leave right away.”
“The only one I’m worried about is James. He seemed eager to leave the Streaker, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He probably met a woman.”
“Fantastic,” Solaris said, rolling his eyes.
“He knows to be back to the ship by dark. I didn’t know how long our errand would take. I just hope he found Tally. Those thugs are quiet.”
Just as Rance finished, the first bullet hit the brick behind Solaris, exploding it into rubble with a loud crack. They ducked and squeezed into the shadows between two dumpsters. More bullets pinged off the wall and the metal. When they stopped, Rance peeked her head out. Silhouettes of people were running down the far end of the alley. The thugs had lights, and they had doubled their numbers. Rance’s ZOD highlighted ten people closing in.
“The Museum takes their security seriously, don’t they?” Rance whispered as she slid back against the wall.
“Yes,” Solaris said. “I think it’s safe to say there’s more going on at the Museum than your mother is aware of.”
He quietly extended his staff. It snapped into place with a soft click.
“You tried,” Rance said, referring to him not using his magic.
“Seriously, Captain, how did you get out of trouble before you met me?”
Rance could barely see his face, but she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Even now,” he whispered, “it’s dangerous for them to know. I’m going to cast a shield to protect us while we run the other way.”
“They’ll see it, won’t they?”
“I’ll try to make it less flashy.”
“Can you do that?”
“It’s more difficult.”
“Someday you are going to have to explain—”
“I promise I will. For now, get ready to run.”
Rance crouched close to the edge of the dumpster, listening to the footfalls of the searchers who were getting closer. They knew the couple was hiding between dumpsters, so they were pausing between each one to check. Solaris eased out with his staff held in front of him. He spun it, and the air shimmered around them.
“Now,” he whispered.
Rance moved out behind him. When she looked, the searchers were only a few feet away. She turned and ran down the alley. Solaris followed. Behind them, there was a burst of light and a heavy thumping sound. Rance risked a glance.
One of the thugs had shot the shield. It had richocheted, sending him sprawling backward onto the ground. Rance hoped he wasn’t dead. Then, she remembered the reaper and the cold water and didn’t feel too sorry for him.
Chapter Twelve
Rance and Solaris exited the alleys near the spaceport. More security, a high fence, and a long open landing pad lay between them and the Star Streaker.
“Plenty of opportunities for something to go wrong,” she muttered as they walked toward the gates. “I’ll bet they’ve got security in their pocket here, too.”
A bright light flared over the landing pad, lighting up the sky like reverse lightning.
“What in Triton’s name was that?” Solaris asked.
The pair approached the gates cautiously. They were open, and the glass of the darkened guard station had shattered. A body lay on the floor inside.
Solaris moved into the building to check it. He felt for a pulse, then shook his head.
Another bright flash lit up the night sky.
“That’s coming from the area of the Streaker,” Rance said. “What now?”
They ran through the gates, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. A large freighter sat between them and the Streaker, and they moved around it carefully.
A small ship had landed close to theirs. It was black as tar, with lines twisted like it was a creature in agony. Large guns faced the Streaker.
“It’s one of Xar’s ships,” Rance said breathlessly. “It’s a small replica of that Arlacken vessel that chased us off of Tribune 5760c.”
Outside of the alien ship, at least five Arlackens were firing on the Streaker. The bay doors were open, the ramp was down, and someone inside was returning fire, holding them back from boarding. Because of the angle of the ships, the Arlackens couldn’t return to their vessel without exposing themselves to fire from the Streaker.
The aliens didn’t look like they wanted to leave, however. They had hunkered down behind crates on the landing pad, firing into the Streaker’s hold at every opportunity. Hot anger burned through Rance. They were firing at her crew, her ship.
Solaris nodded toward the closest Arlacken, who had positioned himself to the far left behind a crate. The alien held an eno
rmous weapon that looked like a cross between a rifle and a water shooter. When he shot, a bolt of lightning buzzed out of the muzzle straight into the hold.
The captain nodded to Solaris. He moved quickly toward the left-most alien. With a flick of his staff, he hit the alien on the head in his signature disabling move.
Instead of falling unconscious, though, the Arlacken turned, angry at having been hit. He swung his lightning rifle at Solaris, who ducked to avoid having his head knocked off. Then he pulled the alien close, trying to prevent him from firing.
The other aliens saw the commotion and shouted in a language Rance didn’t understand. They moved positions, attempting to protect their backs from more enemies. The sounds of fire peppered the air. One of the aliens tossed a grenade into the hold.
“Look out!” Rance shouted.
The grenade flew back out a second later, sending the Arlackens scurrying back. Rance crouched down and covered her ears as it exploded. The crates closest to the ships went flying. Fearing that Solaris had been caught in the explosion, she risked a look his way. But he was still grappling with the alien.
Now that Rance had spoken, she had given away her position. She ran around the side of the freighter, looking for anything along the way to use as a weapon. On the far end, someone had piled some scrap and junk for pickup. She rooted through it and found a hefty metal bar as long as her arm. The aliens on the right had clumped together. If she managed to sneak up on one and hit it, the others would see and shoot her before she got any farther. She would need to be very careful about her attack.
On the other side of the crates, Rance saw a flash of blue. Solaris had managed to knock the rifle away from the alien, and they were now fighting outright instead of grappling. He wielded the staff so quickly it was a blur. The Arlacken must have been fast, too, because the staff didn’t seem to faze him. Rance couldn’t see what he was fighting with now that his gun was gone.
The other aliens fired at Solaris, but he held off their shots with a shield from his left hand while he struck the alien with his staff.