On the morning of day ninety of our voyage, I sit on the floor next to the window as a yellowish-orange orb the size of my fist finally swings into view. Yulin. The color is a dead giveaway that the planet is mostly covered with sand. Ugh. The greenery must be on the opposite side, still in darkness. Over the next hour, the orb expands like a balloon, filling half of the window. Eventually the ship reaches orbit and the planet blocks out everything else. The bridge glows with a soft buttery light as the surface reflects the sun.
Staring at my new home, I listen to the officers’ chatter.
“…see that blurry spot? That’s a sandstorm for sure…”
“…nothing there…where’s the trees?”
“…at least there are dunes, that helps block the wind…”
When Captain Harrison asks Officer Radcliff about other ships in Yulin’s solar system, I strain to hear his answer.
“None detected so far,” Officer Radcliff says. “But I won’t clear a landing party until we confirm there’s no one hiding behind the other planets or the sun.”
“How long?”
“Twelve hours.”
An unhappy grunt.
“We’re not a Protector Class vessel, we don’t have all the technology to-”
“I know. Any signs of activity on the planet?” the captain asks.
“No.”
“I’ve linked with the power station. The base should be live in a few hours,” Radcliff says.
“Double check the environmental systems.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Captain Harrison keeps up a steady stream of commands, but they seem like a mere formality since the crew is already one step ahead of him. I wonder how many planets they’ve “woken” for lack of a better term. With the time dilation and the Q-net determining star roads, some planets waited E-decades before settlers arrived. Or in our case, the scientists.
After an hour or so, I’m bored. The view remains the same—still yellowish-orange, still desolate. I return to our quarters to finish packing. Actually, I didn’t start, but my meager possessions won’t take long to stuff into a couple duffle bags. However, my parents pounce as soon as I enter. I answer their questions, telling them there were no signs of looters. Yet. And they thank me by hijacking me into helping them by schlepping equipment cases to the shuttle bay. Not fun.
Soch-time is a welcome break from the manual labor, except, for the first time, Niall isn’t there. I stand next to his empty chair and wonder if his not being there is a bad sign. Do I need to be worried? And if so, what type of worried? Concerned he might be feeling ill or hurt—that and loss of a family member are the only acceptable excuses to miss soch-time. Or concerned something happened and the ship needs all its security personnel, including their junior officer, because looters are going to attack and kill us all (eviscerated!). That’s a super big worry.
By the end of soch-time, I’m convinced we’ve been boarded and I hurry to our quarters to find…my parents deep in conversation with the meteorologists discussing sandstorms and the base’s air filtration system. Normal stuff. Taking a deep breath and feeling silly, I enter my room and access my required daily school work. Even with working the extra hours with the Chief, I’ve still had to keep up with my lessons. Sheesh. The looters could be banging on my door, but I’d have to tell them to wait until I sent my homework. At least it keeps me from being a pack mule for my mother. That is, until I finish.
I swear two seconds after I disentangle, my mom’s knocking on my door.
Poking her head in, she takes one look at my expression and says, “You can rest all you want when we’re on the planet.”
“Oh no. I’m not falling for that,” I say. “I won’t get a break until after we unpack and set up all the equipment and establish a routine.” Which will take over a hundred days at least. “I do remember when we arrived at Xinji, Mom.”
She smiles—not what I expected at all. “I remember watching you move a heavy case across the floor. It was twice your height and width, yet, even though you couldn’t see where you were going, it didn’t deter you. Your pigtails bounced with every mighty push.”
Even recognizing what she is doing—using my younger self to make my older self feel guilty about being lazy (where did she learn this stuff? Mom school?)—I stand and follow her to the living area where a cart full of scanners waits for me to transfer them to the shuttle bay.
When I return, Officer Radcliff is talking to my parents. Well…sort of. My mom and dad are arguing and Radcliff’s standing there, tugging at his shirt as if uncomfortable. I stop. How could I be in trouble? I’ve been too busy being helpful! Then another thought strikes me. It’s been over twelve hours. Have the sensors located another ship?
“I’m going,” my father declares to my mom. “You haven’t finished packing yet.” He sounds smug.
“And you haven’t finished the shuttle schedule yet,” Mom counters.
“That’s easy, we’ll just reverse the—”
“Going where?” I ask.
“With the security team. They’re doing a sweep to make sure there’s no one on the planet before we all go down to the surface,” Dad says.
“Did you access the cameras?” I ask Radcliff.
“Yes, but they can be compromised.” He gives me a pointed look.
Ah. Well. I clear my throat. “Do you really think someone is down there?” I ask him.
“All the evidence collected so far indicates that the chances are slim, but we have to follow procedures.”
“And since I’m in charge of the base’s operations, I know the layout the best and can show the team—” my father tries.
“We are in charge,” Mom interrupts. “And we both know—”
“Actually, I know the base better than you both. I should go.” The words pop out of my mouth before my brain stops them. I don’t really want to go down there until it’s safe.
All three adults turn to me and say no in unison. Impressive.
“Lyra.” My mother gestures to another loaded cart. “You shouldn’t even be a part of this conversation. Take that to the bay, please.”
Now my brain has caught up and it’s annoyed at being dismissed so quickly. “May I explain my logic before I go?” I ask.
Dad’s torn, but my mom says, “The answer is still no.”
“I’m curious why she thinks her reasoning is logical,” Officer Radcliff says.
An unexpected ally. Nice.
“All right, go ahead,” Mom says with a sigh.
“I grew up in the research bases. I’ve spent my life in them. They all have lots of hiding places where the cameras can’t see.”
“That’s ridiculous, Lyra,” Mom says. “The bases are rectangular, there are no hiding places.”
“And yet you couldn’t find me when Dr. Samell visited five years ago. Remember, your techs searched everywhere?”
“Lyra Tian Daniels, did you purposely hide from me?” Mom’s tone drops near the dangerous level.
“No. I hid from Dr. Samell. He was creepy and I didn’t like the way he looked at me.” As if he wanted to eat me. “And he kept touching my arm.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demands.
“You were too busy telling me he’s the expert in Warrior reconstruction and I should be honored that he offered to show me some techniques. It was just easier to make myself scarce.” I suppress a shudder. If you ask me, three days of avoiding his touch was an eternity.
“Next time, please tell us when someone makes you uncomfortable,” Dad says.
“Good thing Samell is dead.” Mom puts her hands on her hips. “Or I’d have him discredited.”
“About the base,” Radcliff says before Mom can launch into another lecture. “Lyra can tell us where the hiding places are.”
“It won’t work,” I say. “I’m bound to forget some. And then there are the ones I’ve forgotten existed but once I see a familiar area, it’ll trigger my memory.”
“Stil
l no,” Mom says.
Despite the danger of the mission, disappointment swirls around my heart. Huh. Knowing when to abandon a fight, I grasp the cart’s handles and push it toward the door.
“She has a point,” Radcliff says.
Oh? I pause.
“Maybe she can watch the team through the cameras and give us directions,” Radcliff offers.
“I’ll still miss places, since they’re not visible to the cameras,” I say. “It’s best if I go along.”
Radcliff shakes his head. “Still no. But I’ll talk to the captain about having you monitor us through the cameras.”
Better than nothing. I maneuver the cart through the door and down the corridor. One wheel refuses to roll straight and the damn thing keeps veering off and smacking into the walls. I curse the laws of physics. We can build space ships with artificial gravity, but we can’t invent an anti-gravity device to make things…float in it. Gravity is an all or nothing kind of thing. You either have it or you don’t.
By the time I reach the shuttle bay, I’m sweaty and irritated. I pile all the cases next to the others before taking a break. The air in the bay is much colder than the rest of the ship and thinner as well. This area is only used when the ship arrives at a planet. In order to save energy, its atmosphere is set at the minimum required to keep the shuttle functional until needed, then it’s heated and pressurized. Same with the storage bay, which is why my parents jammed all the sensitive instruments into our quarters.
When my body and mood cools, I push the directionally challenged cart back. Officer Radcliff is gone, but my parents sit together on the couch. They both look at me when I enter. Have they been comparing notes on all the times they couldn’t find me over the last seventeen years? Am I about to get into trouble for all of them?
Instead, Mom points to the other cart. They’ve loaded it while I was gone. Yippee. At least this one rolls straight. When I return this time, Captain Harrison and Officer Radcliff are in our quarters. All conversation ceases when they see me. Tension fogs the air and I almost step back into the corridor.
“Lyra, can you give us some privacy, please?” Mom asks.
“Sure.” I bolt for the safety of my room. And while the desire to press my ear to the metal door pulses through me, I’m wise enough to resist the urge. As I ignore the muffled conversation, I pack my stuff. It takes me all of three minutes. After a long look at the door, I stretch out on my bed. My muscles are sore and my mom won’t wake me to deliver another pile of boxes tonight. Right? A girl could hope.
A knock rouses me from a light doze.
“Come in,” I say.
When the captain enters, I just about hit my head on the ceiling as I launch to my feet.
“Sorry to bother you,” he says.
“Not at all,” I manage with only a slight squeak.
“We discussed your concerns about the base and I’m inclined to agree with you. The security team is unfamiliar with the layout.”
I press my arms to my sides to keep still.
“I’d like you to accompany them tomorrow. The plan would be for you to stay in the shuttle until they finish the initial sweep, then you’ll show them the hidden areas. The danger to you should be minimal, but I won’t lie that there isn’t any risk involved. Are you willing?”
“My parents—”
“Have agreed that it is your decision.”
I consider. Have they agreed because they figured I’d be smart enough to say no, or have they truly left it up to me? Parents can be tricky that way. I want to help so I say yes. Of course this means I won’t be able to hide on a research base ever again. Although I haven’t needed to hide in a long time. And now I know my parents would trust my word more than some creepy famous scientist.
“All right. Report to the shuttle bay tomorrow at oh-six-hundred hours. One of the security officers will drop off a jumpsuit and boots for you later tonight.”
“Uh. Yes, sir.”
He nods, then leaves. I sway and plop onto my bed. Three. Two. One.
Right on cue my dad pokes his head in. “Li-Li?” Worry creases his forehead. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.” The captain did say minimal risk. Who am I to question the captain?
Eight
2522:087
My brave words last until the next morning when I struggle to pull on the one-piece jumpsuit. The black material is form fitting yet flexible and, according to my dad, puncture resistant, which doesn’t help my nerves. It’s one thing to talk about doing something, quite another to actually be doing it.
There’s plenty of pockets and a belt with an empty holster. I wonder if they plan to give me a weapon. Would I need a weapon? Jerking my thoughts away from that speculation, I lace up my boots—also black with rubber soles. They are surprisingly light. Comfortable, too. I tie my long hair back into a French braid. My reflection is impressive. It says I’m ready for action. It says don’t mess with me. I marvel a bit over the way the jumpsuit shows off my curves. I have boobs and hips. Who knew? My baggy shirts have been doing a good job of covering them up. I’m not super tall at one hundred and sixty-seven centimeters, but I tower over my mother.
My parents go with me to the shuttle bay. A part of me wants to complain—I know the way—but a part of me is secretly glad they’re with me. Eleven other black-clad figures wait by a small shuttle—not the transport one that I’m familiar with. There are seven men and four women. Officer Keir smiles at me and my nausea eases a fraction. Nearby, Captain Harrison is talking to Officer Radcliff and my insides twist when Radcliff spots me and gestures me over.
Captain Harrison gives me an encouraging smile and my dad squeezes my shoulder.
“See you in a few hours,” Mom says and my parents leave with the captain.
My feet are numb by the time I join Radcliff and the others. Their holsters have weapons.
“Here are the rules,” Radcliff says to me. “You’re going to be a part of Beta team.” He points to a woman around my mom’s age. She has bristle-short blond hair and ice blue eyes. “You follow Officer Morgan’s orders without question, without hesitation. Don’t think. Just do. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Same goes for the other Beta team members. If they say to hit the floor, you pretend you’re a rug. If they say freeze, you don’t move, you don’t breathe. If they say run, you become the Galaxy’s fastest woman. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
He pulls out a pulse gun, and sets it in my right hand so my fingers curl around the grip. “Hold it.”
Shocked, I do as instructed.
“Don’t drop it.” He touches a button.
A light flares from the gun and I tighten my grip in surprise.
“Now it’s set to your electromagnetic signature. No one can fire this gun but you. It also won’t fire if it’s aimed at any members of the security team, including you.” Radcliff shows me how to shoot the gun. “Hold it in two hands, arms extended with your thumb resting on the button. You need to press down hard in order to fire.” He takes it from my grasp and shoves it into my holster. “Only pull it if your life is in immediate danger. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” My throat is tight and I’m seriously considering hyperventilating.
Radcliff leans forward to meet my gaze. “Breathe, Miss Daniels. You’ll be well protected. Captain Harrison threatened to demote me to galley cook if any harm comes to you.”
That surprises a laugh from me. I draw in a few lung-filling breaths. Minimal risk. Plus this was my idea after all and I have a pulse gun, which, if I remember correctly, is a non-lethal weapon that renders a person unconscious.
“Load up,” Radcliff shouts.
I follow the others onto the small shuttle. Two rows of seats line the sides, facing each other. There are no windows except in the front where the pilot is. It’s a bare bones conveyance. Hard seats, no rugs and plenty of weapons stashed in netting. Not a passenger shuttle at all.
&n
bsp; As I find an empty seat toward the back, I make brief eye contact with the rest of the security team. A few are curious, others appear bored, but they all have an alertness about them as if their bodies are coiled and ready to strike. They’re wearing communicators in their right ears. Yet there’s an awkward silence.
Keir plops down next to me. “How in the universe did you manage to become part of this mission?” she asks.
“An inability to keep my mouth shut,” I say, half-serious.
Her laugh echos off the metal hull and sounds loud in the quiet shuttle. “Don’t worry, we’ll protect that pampered ass of yours.” Keir elbows me to let me know she’s joking.
Her comment releases the tension and I relax until I realize the man who is sitting directly across from me is Niall.
Not the Niall that ignored me in soch-time or the one who draws pictures. Not the annoyed Niall or the teasing one who calls me Mouse and tells me I’m going to end up in the brig. Not the Niall who kissed me.
No.
This man is an entirely different being. His shoulders are set with confidence and his posture oozes competence as if he’ll have no trouble handling any situation that arrives when we’re on the planet. There is no expression on his face and his gaze is flat when it meets mine. I’ve no idea if he’s surprised or upset to see me. And, damn. The jumpsuit shows off his physical attributes as well. Memories of that kiss sear my insides.
The pilot’s voice slices through the air. “Launch in ten, nine, eight…”
I scramble to buckle my five-point harness.
“…two, one.”
The shuttle lifts off and soon after we are weightless. My stomach does a cartwheel and I would have expelled my breakfast had I been able to eat this morning. No artificial gravity. If it wasn’t for the shoulder and lap straps, I would have floated off my seat. Instead, I hover in place. Thanks for the warning, Radcliff. Too bad he’s sitting with the pilot and can’t see my nauseous glare. But Keir is watching me and, with a glint of amusement in her dark brown eyes, she extends a vomit bag. I consider ignoring it, but the thought of throwing up in zero gee without it… Beyond gross. Taking the bag, I mutter a thanks.
Navigating the Stars Page 10