Arkadian Skies

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Arkadian Skies Page 28

by Lindsay Buroker


  Alisa looked skeptically at the walls of computers but grabbed her comm. “Abelardus, you there?”

  “We’re just getting back to the ship, but we need a pilot,” he said.

  “What’s behind the walls in this computer room?”

  “Offices.”

  Alisa watched Mica crane her neck to see around the bomb and probe carefully with a laser tool, cursing as she did so.

  “What about under it?” Leonidas asked, hefting an unconscious Starseer and thrusting the man into Hawk’s arms.

  Hawk made a startled grunt but accepted the load.

  “Start getting these people back to the ship.” Leonidas glanced at the countdown floating in the holodisplay. “You too, Beck.”

  “A lot of the equipment for the engines is down on that level,” Abelardus said.

  “Fuel?” Mica asked.

  “Could be,” Abelardus said.

  “Could be,” Mica growled. “So helpful. I bet he knows exactly where the hops for the beer are.”

  “Give me a second, Grouchy One.”

  Beck and Hawk ran out, carrying men.

  “Send some more of your soldiers to carry out the rest of the people,” Leonidas called after them. He helped a Starseer who was able to walk to the hole, then strode to the bomb and looked over Mica’s shoulder.

  The rest of the ice rubble in the doorway and corridor had been cleared. There were more Starseers waiting to be carried out, the fight gone out of them now, but Leonidas seemed to think he could see something Mica did not. Maybe he could.

  “Shit,” Mica said. “I almost cut a wire. These may be dummies or may not do anything crucial, but…”

  “They may blow us all up?” Alisa asked, hopping from foot to foot. She ought to sprint to the ship, dive into NavCom, and get the Nomad as ready as she could for a quick takeoff. But to run away and leave her engineer—her friend—here seemed too cowardly to contemplate.

  “Thoughts?” Mica asked Leonidas.

  Alisa winced, knowing she rarely asked for help. She had to be stumped.

  “Yeah,” Abelardus said, his voice having a distracted quality to it. “I checked. There’s fuel in the room under you.”

  “It’s going to have to come off then,” Mica said, then glared at Alisa. “This is bullshit. I’m not risking blowing myself up.”

  “We all blow up if it goes off,” Alisa said, glancing back as Hawk and Beck returned, this time with Mica’s hand tractor so they could more easily carry out the rest of the Starseers.

  “The hells we do,” Mica said, not looking at them. “Ships can fly, Captain. Maybe you noticed.”

  “If we fly away without doing something, millions of people could die in whatever earthquake is rigged to start.” Alisa couldn’t even imagine the scenario shown in that display, of the whole land mass being destroyed.

  “Fuck them. They shouldn’t have moved to a continent full of volcanoes.”

  “There’s no time for arguing.” Leonidas glanced at the countdown—it was under five minutes now—and grabbed the laser cutter from Mica. “I’ll do it. Alisa, make sure everyone is on the ship and get out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “You’re the pilot. You don’t leave and everyone could die.”

  Alisa clenched her fists in frustration even though she knew he was right.

  “If I don’t blow myself up, you can come back and get me.” He thumped her on the shoulder. “In fact, I’d appreciate if you did just that.”

  “Right. Come on, Mica.”

  Leonidas faced the bomb, but only for a second. “Wait,” he blurted and reached for Alisa’s comm unit.

  She handed it to him. “Abelardus is on there.”

  “I know,” Leonidas said. “Where does all this ice come from, Abelardus?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The panels that have been coming down have looked like they can regenerate the ice. They had some lines going to them. What’s in them? Liquid nitrogen? Are there tanks somewhere?”

  “Oh, yeah. I think so. There’s a bunch of chemicals under the audience chamber, in the room next to the brewing equipment.”

  “Yes,” Mica said, snapping her fingers. She lunged back to the bomb and closed the case, then dove into her bag. “I have QuickPutty to plug the holes. If we can flood the case—”

  “On it,” Leonidas barked, already sprinting for the doorway, almost knocking Hawk and Beck over as he disappeared into the corridor.

  Beck floated six Starseers out with the hand tractor. Alisa had a mind to stay and help Mica, if she needed it, but Hawk grabbed her around the waist and tossed her onto his armored shoulder.

  “What’re you doing?” she blurted.

  “Pilots don’t help with disarming bombs,” Hawk said, striding to the hole in the wall. “Let your people do it while you fly everyone else to safety.”

  “I can walk,” Alisa said, more indignant at being carried than anything else. He was right—they were all right. She knew it. It wasn’t as if she could do anything but get in the way.

  “And yet you show a proclivity toward not doing so. Did you vex your superior officers when you were an Alliance pilot?”

  “You can ask Commander Tomich the next time you see him.”

  “Tomich used to vex me.” Hawk set her down in the courtyard, but he stayed behind her to ensure she did not turn around.

  Alisa didn’t. She ran into the ship, bypassing limp Starseers sprawled all over the cargo hold, and went straight to her seat in NavCom. She readied the craft to take off, then fiddled with her braid impatiently, waiting. Watching.

  Mica sprinted out into the courtyard first, beelining for the ramp. Alisa had left it down with the hatch open, and she would keep it that way until Leonidas ran out.

  She opened her comm channel to him, though she did not say anything, not wanting to distract him if he was in the middle of a delicate operation.

  Mica ran into NavCom, grabbing the back of the co-pilot’s seat, and stared at the view screen.

  “He found liquid nitrogen,” she said. “He’s pouring it into the case.”

  “And that’ll freeze the detonator?”

  “Should create a block of ice inside and freeze everything. I hope. That was a low-tech homemade bomb. If it hadn’t been so unorthodox, I could have…” Mica growled and shook her head.

  “I thought you liked homemade bombs.”

  “Only when I’m the one making them. Amateur work is unpredictable.”

  Alisa shifted one of the cameras so that it pointed straight at the doorway. “Leonidas, where are you? Isn’t that timer down to its last minute?”

  “You’ll have to take off,” Hawk said, appearing in the hatchway to NavCom. He had removed his helmet, and his short, wiry hair was damp with sweat. So was his tense face.

  “Thirty seconds,” Alisa said.

  “Close the hatch and take off,” he growled, stepping into NavCom. “Or I will.”

  “We’re not leaving him here.” She glared at him when he kept coming, wondering if she would have to defend herself. She didn’t have Leonidas here to protect her, and Mica looked like she agreed with Hawk.

  Hawk didn’t bother arguing. He leaned past Alisa, trying to get to the controls. She had no idea if he’d flown a Nebula Rambler 880 before, but he had been a pilot hero, so he could presumably manage. If she let him.

  Before she could think better of it, she yanked her stun gun out and pressed it against his rib cage. “Stop.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” he roared, not stopping. “This whole ship will blow if—”

  Alisa fired.

  Hawk’s body spasmed, and she winced, feeling the electrical charge of the gun’s nimbus. It numbed her fingers and toes. Not a good idea to fire so close. Fortunately, Hawk crumpled to the deck between the seats. Or unfortunately, perhaps. He would have one more reason to want her hunted down once she let him go.

  “There,” Mica shouted, pointing at the view scre
en.

  Leonidas ran out of the building, that black box with its snarl of cut wires clutched against his crimson chest.

  “Uh,” Alisa said, not sure whether to be relieved or horrified.

  Instead of racing for the Nomad’s ramp, he sprinted across the courtyard, bypassed stairs, and leaped straight up to the top of a tower where he hurled the bomb away from the temple. A testament to his strength, it rocketed through the smoke, flying farther than any man should have been able to throw something. From its trajectory, Alisa assumed it eventually struck the inner wall of the caldera, but with the Nomad down in the courtyard, she did not have a view of it. A distant boom drifted to the ship.

  “Great,” Mica said. “Now the volcano is going to topple down all around us.”

  “Can’t you be glad that we’re still alive? For the moment?”

  “A moment isn’t much to celebrate. I want lots of moments.”

  Leonidas jumped back into the courtyard and ran to the ship. A rumble followed in the aftermath of the bomb detonating, one that Alisa hoped wasn’t announcing Mica’s volcano collapse. Apparently, freezing the bomb had only temporarily delayed the explosion. Or maybe it hadn’t worked at all and Leonidas had been forced to cut wires and pray.

  As soon as he ran inside the ship, Alisa raised the ramp, closed the hatch, and took them into the air. She saw the charred inner wall of the volcano where the bomb had struck it. It was still intact, but she found those rumbles ominous.

  To her surprise, the temple started rising as the Nomad flew over the lip of the caldera.

  “We didn’t leave someone behind, did we?” Alisa asked.

  “Maybe Leonidas found the controls to move it,” Mica said.

  “When would he have had time?”

  Leonidas jogged into NavCom, pulling his helmet from his head and eyeing the view screen before meeting Alisa’s eyes. She lifted a hand toward him, and he removed his gauntlet and clasped it gently. She would have flung her arms around him for a hug, but she was piloting them to safety. The smoke had grown thicker around the volcano, and she flew them out over the greenery of the rainforest. In the rear camera, the temple appeared, rising up over the top of the volcano. It drifted away at a slower pace than the Nomad, but it, too, headed for the relative safety of the rainforest.

  “Did you do that?” Alisa asked Leonidas.

  “No. The handful of conscious Starseers were holding hands and humming when I ran past. They may have recovered enough to figure out what was going on and try to save their home. Remotely.”

  “What happens when the powder wears off?”

  He could only shrug. Yumi was the person she needed to ask.

  Alisa hit the comm. “Yumi, Alejandro? Where are you?”

  “I am recovering from a fraught experience,” Alejandro said wearily. “Yumi is showing her sister her chickens.”

  “How about you find a way to remove those headbands and make sure our Starseers are well—and unlikely to turn on us again?”

  “As you wish, Captain,” Alejandro said, more amenable-sounding than he had ever been. Or maybe that was defeat. They had lost the staff again. And they hadn’t gained anything except irate hostages and some Starseer refugees.

  “Check on Hawk’s soldiers too.” Alisa glanced at the unconscious form between the seats. “I’m sure he would want that.”

  Alejandro offered what sounded like a grunt of assent.

  Alisa banked so she could orbit the volcano for a few laps, watching it from above. The smoke was definitely thicker than it had been when they first arrived, but she hoped that the little explosion high up on the caldera wall wouldn’t trigger an eruption. At the least, she hoped it wouldn’t trigger an eruption that would turn into an earthquake that would rock the entire continent. Then she could feel that the trip had been worth it, that her people had done some good.

  A series of chicken squawks came over the comm, which was still open to the cargo hold. It must be feeding time. A woman giggled. Yumi? Her sister? Well, at least some good had happened if they had rescued those Starseers.

  “Let me know if you need your hand back,” Leonidas said as she banked again, peeking inside the caldera.

  He had not released their handclasp and did not appear inclined to do so. Whatever had happened in those last few minutes that he had been alone must have rattled him. Or maybe the whole battle had rattled him.

  She squeezed his hand. “I don’t. I have lots of experience with flying one-handed.”

  Mica arched her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you two were far enough along in your relationship that you discussed your self-pleasuring habits openly.”

  Alisa flushed. “I meant that I’m usually holding coffee with the other hand. Sometimes chocolate.”

  “Ah, of course.”

  Alisa glanced up at Leonidas, who merely returned a bland smile and nodded down at the unconscious form between the seats. “Is that Admiral Hawk?”

  “Yes. He wanted to leave without you. I disagreed. When we’re done holding hands, you could carry him somewhere. To a locked cabin perhaps.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  “Because you bonded over fighting Starseers? I remember him making nice comments about your ass.”

  “You only heard the last one,” Leonidas said. “The first several comments about my ass involved moving it and kicking it.”

  “Such uncouthness. One expects more from officers.”

  “Not Alliance officers,” he said, meeting her eyes and smiling.

  “I may have just been insulted,” Alisa told Mica.

  “I think so. But you’re still holding his hand. You’re a glutton for punishment.”

  “Clearly.”

  Chapter 19

  Alisa sat in the mess hall, alternating between sucking down coffee and licking her finger to pick up crumbs of chocolate left in the bottom of a tin that had once held unsweetened chunks for baking.

  They needed to drop off the Tiangs, Hawk’s people, and the Starseers, preferably without being arrested or shot down in the process, and then she needed to sleep. Badly. Between coming in from space and dancing across time zones all over Arkadius, her day had been never-ending. It felt like it had been a week. The coffee wasn’t doing much to keep her eyes open, but she shouldn’t let herself sleep yet. They were on course for Laikagrad where, Alisa hoped, the chaos in the aftermath of the earthquake would keep the authorities from noticing her ship. She had not returned her guests’ comm devices or told them where she was heading. Even if Hawk found a means to communicate with his people, he couldn’t have a fleet of Alliance ships waiting for them.

  Leonidas walked into the mess hall, out of his armor for the first time in what seemed like days. He wore his soft gym pants, a black T-shirt, and socks. The level of undress surprised her, considering the Alliance soldiers aboard. To Beck’s and Leonidas’s consternation, Alisa had offered them free rein if they removed their weapons and armor. It hadn’t seemed right to lock up people who had helped them fight, especially since Hawk had lost one of his men during the battle. He now spoke Tymoteusz’s name like a curse, his eyes dark with the promise of vengeance.

  “How long until we reach Laikagrad?” Leonidas poured himself a cup of coffee, walked to her side, and rested a hand on her back.

  “A couple of hours.”

  “Where are we landing?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Might I suggest a return to the junkyard?” Leonidas said.

  “Any particular reason?”

  “Yes.”

  She waited for him to explain. He didn’t, but an enigmatic smile curved his lips. Huh.

  She patted the seat next to hers. “Join me and help me stay awake?”

  “How do you propose I do that?” He slid in beside her, his thigh touching hers.

  “You could take off your clothes and dance on the table for me.”

  “I would hit my head on the ceiling and probably knock over your
coffee.”

  “I’m sure those are the reasons you’re objecting to doing it.” Alisa leaned against his shoulder, relieved to have him beside her, and further relieved he had survived removing that bomb. She dreaded the thought of him not returning from a battle one day. “We could go to my bunk and spend a couple of hours kissing.”

  He lowered his gaze to his cup. “I imagine you would ultimately find that disappointing.”

  “It’s possible for two people to kiss without things escalating to sex. Or wanting sex. Sometimes, just kissing is cozy and intimate.”

  He gave her a frank look, an eyebrow elevated.

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Every time I kiss you, I want to throw you up against a wall and have my way with you.”

  His other eyebrow joined the first. Maybe he was amused at the idea of her throwing him.

  “It’s a fantasy,” she said. “I can do what I want, including defying physics.”

  “Ah.”

  At least he wasn’t outright objecting to the idea out of some worry that he would hurt her. She might have found that encouraging if her plan to win over Admiral Tiang and get him fixed hadn’t backfired so horribly. She was fairly certain that the Tiangs wanted her dead now. And after she had stunned Admiral Hawk, he probably wanted her dead too. Maybe she could find another cybernetics specialist out there with experience working on imperial cyborgs. Somewhere. After she found Jelena. She needed to check on Alejandro and Durant—and Stanislav, too, she supposed—but she was too tired to deal with anyone difficult. After she dropped everyone else off, that would be the time. After she had rested. She wished she could curl up in a bunk with Leonidas, even if there wasn’t kissing.

  He was still gazing morosely into his cup, and she wondered if he had believed for a while that her crazy scheme might work, that she might talk the admiral into helping him.

  Voices sounded in the corridor. Alisa debated if she wanted to scoot away from Leonidas. Her regular crew and passengers knew they had a relationship, but those were not their familiar voices. Should Alliance soldiers see the captain snuggled up to her security chief? Was that professional? For that matter, was picking slivers of chocolate out of a tin professional? Maybe she wouldn’t cross the line until she started licking the powder in the bottom.

 

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