Blastaway

by Melissa Landers

  An image appeared onscreen of the miniature Fasti star, surrounded by a rippling force field and dragging its broken tether behind it like an enormous comet tail.

  “I made a decision to step up,” Quasar said. “Where the government failed to protect you, I will use my resources at Niatrix Industries to save our precious planet.”

  “See?” Kyler shouted. “He wants to be the hero.”

  “I have a sharpshooter standing by,” Quasar said, “to destroy the star before it reaches Earth. This should prove to you, the citizens of our great world, that no threat is a match for the power of Niatrix Industries. A vote for Niatrix is a vote for survival.”

  “He’s lying,” I said. “The sharpshooter he’s talking about is me, and I’m nowhere near Earth.”

  “Quick,” Kyler told his parents. “Don’t wait for him to finish. Evacuate now!”

  “For your protection,” Quasar added with one hand pressed to his chest, “I’m placing a force field around Earth to shield you from radiation.”

  “Oh no,” I murmured. So much for evacuating. A force field would block ships from entering or leaving the atmosphere. Everyone on Earth would be trapped on the ground.

  “As for me, I will serve as our last line of defense,” Quasar said. He indicated his lavish surroundings, and for the first time, I noticed the artificial lighting that hinted he was in space. “Here, in my remote headquarters.”

  In other words, he had ensured his own safety by escaping. If the star was somehow destroyed, Quasar could take credit for it. And if he failed to save the day, he could blast off to one of his oasis planets and leave the rest of mankind to die.

  “Try not to panic,” he went on. “I won’t let you down.”

  The transmission flickered, drawing my focus back to Kyler’s family. They were huddled together with their lips parted in disbelief. I felt the same way, even knowing Quasar’s plan in advance. It was so evil it almost seemed like an elaborate prank.

  Ky’s mom was the first to speak. “So what do we do—” Her words cut off as the screen flickered again. A moment of static followed, and then there was nothing.

  “No!” Kyler shouted. He tried two more times to reconnect and failed.

  “It must be the force field,” I said. “It’s messing with the signal, like the first time you tried calling home. Quasar must have been testing the shield that day.”

  Ky turned to me with panic etched on his face. “We have to do something.”

  I agreed that we couldn’t give up. It didn’t matter that we had no plan, no allies, and no heavy equipment. We had to go down fighting. The worst kind of failure was not trying at all.

  “What if we blow up the star?” I asked. “I have my laser. There’s dark matter in the sun’s core. If I hit it dead center, it’ll blow.” The aim would be tricky, because the sun was in motion. But my experience blasting asteroids had taught me to hit a moving target. “I know I can do it.”

  Kyler shook his head. “It’s too risky. Earth could get fried like a chicken.”

  “Then let’s brainstorm while I fly,” I said. “We’re wasting time.”

  Ky held out an arm, stopping me before I could reach the wheel. “You mean while I fly. I downgraded your crew privileges.”

  “But I’m the better pilot. I can get us—”

  “Not happening,” he snapped.

  I backed down and took the copilot’s seat while Kyler set a course for Earth at maximum speed. Right away, the Whirlwind rotated thirty degrees and rocketed away fast enough to press my spine into the seat.

  “Just saying,” I muttered. “It might be a good idea to give me flight privileges. I mean, what if you’re hurt? You could hit your head or get sick. Or what if we’re headed for an asteroid?”

  “The autopilot would steer around it.”

  “Still,” I argued, “it would be smart if we—”

  “There is no still,” he interrupted. “There is no we. And in case you need me to spell it out for you, there is no deal. I’m not taking you to Earth, assuming we can save it. After what you’ve done, you’ll be lucky if I don’t turn you in.”

  “I tried to make things right,” I said. “And I did rescue you from pirates.”

  “Pirates you were working for!”

  Cabe’s chest whirred. “Goosey, you are displaying higher than normal levels of aggression toward a fellow crew member. Stand down.”

  I gave Cabe a nod of thanks for having my back. He was a better friend than most humans. Kyler waved him off. “It’s all right. We’re just having a…heated debate…about Fig’s crew privileges.”

  “Fig?” Cabe asked. “I have no record of—”

  “Weirdo,” Ky interrupted. “I meant Weirdo’s crew privileges.”

  Cabe beeped in understanding. “Please keep your verbal communication below eighty decibels. My programming states that I must—”

  “Break up our fights,” Kyler said, his eyeballs practically doing backflips. “I know.”

  I lowered my voice to a loud hiss. “What does it matter if I was working for the pirates? I still saved your bacon. That should prove I’m not a bad person.”

  Ky shot daggers at me with his eyes. “Well, here’s a new deal for you: If you can come up with a way to save my planet and my family, maybe, just maybe I’ll dump you at the nearest transport station even though you were part of the worst terrorist attack in human history.” He thrust a hand at me. “What do you say? Should we shake on it?”

  I smacked his hand away, then made an innocent gesture when Cabe bwooped at me in warning. “I told you I had no idea what was going on when Corpse and Cadaver hired me. All they said was—”

  “To blow up a star,” Kyler finished. “Right. Because that sounds like a totally innocent job. I mean, what could possibly go wrong with blasting apart a giant ball of radiation? What reason would someone have to blow up a star except for kicks and giggles?”

  “I didn’t think about it like that,” I said. “I needed the money.”

  “Oh, come off it,” he told me. “It was about more than the money, and you know it. I’ll bet you couldn’t wait to blast that star to bits just because it was big and beautiful and there for you to demolish. Let’s be real, Fig. You get a high from blowing things up.”

  I bit my lip. I couldn’t deny the sun had put an itch in my trigger finger.

  “I’ll tell you something else.” He looked at me again, and there was a new emotion in his eyes, something raw and tender. I had hurt him. “You were right when you said I put my trust in the wrong people. I trusted you. I thought we were friends. I tried to be nice to you, and I ended up with a knife in my back.”

  I took a sudden interest in my boots.

  “I can’t believe I actually thought…” Ky shook his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t want you for a friend, anyway. You did me a favor by turning out to be a liar and a thief.”

  My eyes started to prickle. I blinked them dry and spat, “Then I guess you should thank me.”

  I could tell he was gearing up to have the last word. And he would’ve had it, too, if it hadn’t been for the laser blast that shook our ship. We lurched forward in our seats while an alarm blared and an automated voice droned, “Level-one surface damage to the rear hull. Consult your authorized Pro Lux dealer to schedule a repair.”

  “Mortal danger,” Cabe cried. “We must defend the ship!”

  “Cool your reels,” I said. “We’re not in mortal danger.”

  I glanced at the navigation screen to see what kind of craft had fired on us. Level-one surface damage wasn’t a big deal. It basically meant there was a cosmetic burn mark in the paint. But still, it was a strange (and really rude) way to get our attention.

  “The Galaxy Guard?” I wondered out loud, squinting at the beacon trailing us.

  That didn’t make sense, though. The ship attacking us was too small.

  Another blast shook the Whirlwind, jerking me in my safety harness.


  Cabe was practically vibrating with worry now. I felt bad for him, so I reached behind his neck to power him down until we figured out what was going on.

  “Okay, seriously,” Kyler snapped. “Who is doing that?”

  I glared at the flashing icon. “Someone who’s going to get my boot up their tailpipe if they don’t knock it off. I have a T-class laser, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Whoever it is, they’re flying a sedan-class model like mine, but they weaponized it,” Ky said. “Why would a ship have a laser cannon mounted on the outside?”

  To me, the answer was clear. “To blast asteroids.”

  “So they’re Wanderers?” he asked.

  “That’s my bet.”

  “The Holyoakes?”

  “No chance,” I said. “Even if they replaced their core processor, there’s no way they could catch up to us this fast.”

  The Whirlwind’s computer alerted us to more “level-one surface damage” to the hull. Then the feminine voice said something that sent ice churning through my veins. “Incoming transmission from the High Council of Galactic Wanderers. Do you accept?”

  Now I knew who was chasing us—and why.

  “The Wanderer Council?” Kyler said. He thumbed over his shoulder. “That’s your government shooting at us?”

  My mouth was too dry to respond. A sensation of dread came over me, so strong it was like the bottom had fallen out of my body.

  Cross us again, and we’ll take you to the Council.

  The Holyoakes hadn’t been bluffing.

  “They want to take me away,” I mumbled, more to myself than to Ky. He hated me too much to care right now. “They want to put me on trial.”

  “Who? The Council?”

  I nodded. “They have their own court. It keeps the Galaxy Guard out of our business.”

  “What do they want to try you for?”

  “Theft,” I said. “I stole the Holyoakes’ shuttle, the first time I escaped. Then I stole their core processor with you.”

  Kyler reached for the ACCEPT button on the transmission screen, but right before his fingertip connected, he paused. “Does the Council give out punishments?”

  A shiver rolled over me. “Yeah.”

  “What will they do?” he asked. “Like…send you to kid jail?”

  I shook my head. My people didn’t do kid jail. “Way worse.”

  “Like what?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “No telling. They like to get creative with their punishments.”

  “Oh,” he said, his finger still poised above the button.

  I sagged against my harness, suddenly tired. I wasn’t sleepy tired, more like exhausted, deep down in my spirit. I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. I just wanted the struggle to be over. Besides, there was nothing the Council could do to me that would make me feel worse than I already did.

  “Just stop the ship,” I told Ky. “I’m the one they want. Do what they say, and they’ll quit firing on us. You shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”

  “Do you really mean that?” he asked.

  I dipped my chin. “Of course. Go ahead and let them have me.”

  Kyler pressed his lips together and seemed to think about it for a few beats. Then instead of tapping ACCEPT, he hit DENY. “Nope,” he said. “Sorry, but you’re not getting off the hook that easily.”

  I blinked at him.

  “We made a new deal, remember?” he told me. “I’m not turning you over to anyone until you help me come up with a plan to save Earth. So if you want to rot away in some torture chamber, first you’ll have to undo the mess you made. Then we’ll talk about the Council. In the meantime, they can wait their turn.”

  My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

  “Hey, look at that, I left you speechless,” Ky said. “That’s a nice bonus.” He tightened his hold on the wheel and told the ship, “Computer, increase speed to full velocity and begin evasive maneuvers. We’re under attack.”

  Fig was fidgeting with her hands, darting constant glances at the navigation screen to keep tabs on the Council ship, which, for now, was ten klicks behind us and well out of firing range. But who knew how long we could outrun them. “Next we’ll probably lose our main—”

  “Shhh!” I lifted a finger to stop her from jinxing us. “Don’t tempt fate.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  That was the real question. And I didn’t know the answer. In the last few minutes, our problems had doubled. It was hard enough trying to stop a runaway star without the Wanderer Council attacking us from behind.

  I blew out a sigh. “If the universe would stop yanking our chain, that would be great.”

  Fig snorted. “More like spanking our butts. Right now I feel like the kid in a story my mom used to tell me, about a boy who had to fight a giant using nothing but a pebble and a catapult.”

  “It wasn’t a catapult,” I said. I’d heard that story, too. “It was a slingshot—the old-fashioned kind that was basically a leather pouch attached to a string. Which is pretty impressive when you think about it. It’s hard to hit a target with a primitive slingshot.” I demonstrated by circling one hand over my head. “First you whirl the ammunition, a rock or whatever, around and around a bunch of times to build up momentum, then you have to let it fly at just the right moment.…”

  I trailed off as an idea teased at the edges of my mind.

  I imagined a slingshot attached to a long tether. But instead of leather, the string was made of a force-field cable, and instead of a rock, the slingshot pouch held a miniature star. Taking it a step further, I pictured myself grabbing the force-field cable and whipping it around my head a few times, building enough momentum to send the star flying into another solar system. Then I released the cable and watched the star sail into the distance.

  It was a wild, ridiculous fantasy.

  So wild that it brought a smile to my lips.

  In theory, why couldn’t I fling the man-made sun away from Earth? With the right equipment and enough force, it just might work.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “But brace yourself, because it’s going to sound crazy. Like full on badoinky-doink nuts.”

  “Crazier than you stealing a spaceship in your sleep?” Fig asked. “Or scaring away two pirates with septic tank gas and candy-stuffed pasta noodles? Or me free-falling through a planet’s atmosphere and almost catching on fire? Or us trying to steal a sun?”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Okay, maybe it won’t sound so crazy.”

  “Spill it,” she said.

  So I did.

  After explaining my idea, I waited a minute for the details to soak in before I asked, “What do you think?”

  She shifted her eyes toward me. “You care what I think?”

  “Well, yeah,” I said. That didn’t mean I was okay with the lies she had told. Or that I was ready to forgive her, or even trust her. But I couldn’t deny that Fig had a brilliant mind and a special set of skills that I didn’t have. If I had listened to her sooner, maybe things would have turned out differently. “I want us to be on the same page this time. Whatever we do, it won’t work if we’re divided. That’s what went wrong on the barge—we stopped being a team, and it weakened us.”

  “Well, here’s what I think,” she said. “It’s not enough to shoot the star away from Earth. That’ll cause a new set of problems for anything in its path. We have to shoot the star away from Earth and then destroy it.”

  “Blow it up?” I asked. “But what about the dark matter? We still don’t know if it’ll cause a black hole.”

  “Then let’s find out.” She pointed at the transmission station. “Ask your scientist lady, the one who invented the star.”

  “Doctor Nesbit? I thought you didn’t trust her.”

  “I don’t,” Fig said. “But we’re pretty crafty. I’ll bet we can come up with a way to find out if she’s honest.”

  “Okay, then I guess we have a plan,” I said. “Is
it just me, or does it sound kind of nuts?”

  “Oh, nuttier than squirrel poop,” Fig agreed. “But still, it’s a solid idea.”

  “Really? You think we should run with it?”

  “Like a kid with scissors.”

  “All right.” I unfastened my safety belt and stood up from the pilot’s seat, indicating that Fig should switch places with me. It was time to start acting like a team, and that meant trusting her to take the wheel. “I’m going to power up Cabe and restore you to level-three crew privileges.”

  Fig’s eyebrows jumped. “Really?”

  “Really,” I told her. “Let’s do this.”

  I pulled up Dr. Nesbit’s private number in my comm and held my breath while I waited for the call to connect. As I sat there, nervously tapping a finger against my knee, part of me hoped she wouldn’t answer. I know that sounds strange, but I couldn’t stand the thought that she might have been involved with Quasar’s scheme. If my personal hero was crooked, I would rather not know at all. The disappointment would crush me.

  The call connected. Dr. Nesbit said, “Hello?”

  I nodded at Fig, who had spent the last hour stitching together audio clips from speeches Quasar Niatrix had posted online. The end result wasn’t perfect, but Fig had crafted a few sentences that should convince Dr. Nesbit Quasar was calling instead of me.

  “Hello?” she repeated.

  Fig played the first recording. I held my comm close so Quasar’s voice blurted loud and clear into the receiver, “You had one job, and you failed. Now it’s a disaster.”

  “I failed?” screeched Dr. Nesbit. “I’m the one who failed?” Then she lowered her voice to a hiss and called Quasar a name I’m not going to repeat. “How dare you blame this on me?”

  The recording repeated, “You had one job.”

  “I still have one job,” Dr. Nesbit snapped. “My job, you arrogant”—another word I won’t repeat—“is to create stars, not weapons. I wanted nothing to do with your plan. I warned you from the start it was a terrible idea. But did you listen? No, of course not. You forced my hand, and I hate you for it.”