Liza’s toes curled against the stone floor of the bell tower, and she felt the grit of crumbled rock against the soles of her feet. Kerris hid in a vestibule only a few steps away, and she did not want to give away his presence. She’d meant only to sooth Amanda and send Oriana on its way.
Then Sky asked about the survivors. She knew, as Liza did, that there may yet be hope for the people of Boone. Sky must have been a powerful hybrid to keep herself shielded so well. Liza hoped the woman could help her save her people. Liza felt the rise of warmth from Sky—a summons to take the conversation to the Spirit Realm.
Closing her eyes, she imagined herself sitting atop a bubble, wings unfurled. In the Spirit Realm, every person looked like a bubble to her—a marble, an object—just an object floating through existence. Humans stayed in their bubbles, and even Kerris never got out of his, more than a few sweeps of the hand. The bubbles of every person in Boone existed there, and all she had to do was bring their essence back to the physical realm. Somehow.
“Sky, aren’t you coming out?”
Sky’s bubble glowed red, guiding Liza in, and she projected herself into the bubble. Usually, a person didn’t know when she did this, and she could sift memories. Kerris had learned to sense it, and that was how they communicated telepathically. With Sky, she didn’t know what to expect, so she kept her taloned toes firmly clasped to her own bubble. After getting trapped inside Amanda’s mind, she was far more cautious in her explorations.
Inside Sky’s bubble smelled of chlorine and brine, and she felt her lungs closing. There were two creatures inside, one manifesting as a dragon, the other an old woman. Neither resembled Sky’s physical form. The dragon dragged the old woman around like a rag doll, letting her mind fall in and out of the bubble.
“Does she belong here?” Liza asked, standing boldly in front of the dragon. The beast had glowing red eyes and the air caught fire when it breathed.
“Do you belong here?” Liza challenged. “Where is Sky?”
The creature cocked its head, taking on a human expression. The dragon held the old woman out to her, uncurling its long talons, like it was offering to share a toy. Liza reached out, but her hand passed right through the woman.
“Is she real?” Liza asked. Amanda had understood her, but this dragon must have had a different language. Feeling the burn on her feet, she realized that the dragon had pulled her completely into the bubble. Her heart in her throat, Liza rushed to the edge of the bubble, making sure she could still pass through. Her face went out easily. There was no air outside the bubble, but there was relief from the feeling of brine on her skin.
Collecting her thoughts, she came back into Sky’s bubble. “I thought you wanted to help me. Did you bring me to help her?” Liza asked. “She’s so old.”
Drawing one of its long nails across the old woman’s sternum, the dragon sliced through the woman’s chest and peeled back flesh and bone to reveal a still-beating heart. The woman convulsed, and the dragon closed her chest again, drawing the back of its finger over the wound to seal it. With a leer, it pushed the woman’s head out of the bubble and the woman convulsed again.
“Stop!” Liza screamed, charging the dragon. It vanished, then reappeared behind her, gloatingly torturing the old woman. Not knowing what to do, Liza pushed the bubble edge, extending as much protection as she could around the old woman.
The dragon unfurled its red and gold wings and its talon piercing through her consciousness, the acidic air burning her lungs. Liza wondered if its fire had poisoned the psychic air in the bubble.
“I won’t let you kill her,” Liza said, staying close to the old woman, trying to look threatening, even though she had no way to defend herself. Her talons were small compared to the dragon’s. The Spirit had summoned her here to toy with her.
Liza unfurled her wings, but the brine choked her and her body flew from the bubble as if she were being dragged behind an airplane. She flailed, desperate to grasp her own bubble before she lost her body completely.
Pain shot through Hawk’s lower body with every step, but he knew he had to get to Sky and warn her. No one believed him about the ghost, so he’d stopped mentioning how often it peered over their shoulders while they worked. Sky insisted the ghost couldn’t hurt him, but the fact that Saskia lay reeling in the infirmary told him otherwise.
When he approached the bell tower, the walls shook, and he stopped short, falling to his knees, heaving and wheezing. Then the ghost appeared. She had a blue aura around her, but the aura faded as she approached, reaching out her hand.
“How did you do that?” she asked, her voice speaking directly into his mind. “I was up there in the tower. How did you bring me down here?”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Hawk said, his palms sweating. It had been so long since he’d heard his native tongue, he nearly wept.
“You’re the one who is like us. You’re the hybrid they’ve all been shielding,” she said. “You’re… you’re not like Sky, are you? A dragon within a person?”
“You can see her Sequesterer, too?” he asked. It was strange, hearing her speak Rocanese directly into his mind, and stranger still that she could project an image. The impression she had of Sky’s Spirit filled in the gaps of Hawk’s perception of the beast—fire and claws—but he understood, and it scared him. His stomach turned in fear, but the twist triggered a pain that shot through his entire torso, and it was all he could do not to drop to his knees and throw up.
“You’re the one making me sick,” she said, her glittering brown eyes crinkling in anger. “I thought you were nothing, but I can feel the illness radiating off of you. I thought it was the other one.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Can you not heal yourself?” she asked, her form fading into blue light. Hawk shook his head. “Then let me try. This has to be as miserable for you as you’re making it for me.”
“Hawk!” Amanda hollered, running from the bell tower.
“Amanda, watch out!” he cried, the blue smoke dispersing as she charged toward him. “Where did she go?”
“Sky. Help!” Amanda said, taking his hand, dragging him into the tower. Her skin and clothes were covered in blood, but she didn’t appear to be bleeding.
“Oh, no. Sky,” Hawk murmured, pushing through the pain in his body. He didn’t have far to go. Sky’s inverted body was strewn at the base of the ramp, as though she’d rolled down. There was blood on her clothes and her lips were blue.
“The ghost took her breath!” Hawk cried, rushing to Sky, worried he’d break her neck. Sky gagged, as though the air were too thick for her lungs.
“She’s gone, bébé. That’s it. Breathe,” Hawk coached, squeezing her until she realized she was in his arms.
“Where did she go?” Sky rasped. “Where?”
“Hold still. You’re hurt,” Hawk said. “We’ll get help.”
“The survivors. We have to find them,” she insisted, gripping the front of his shirt, pulling herself into his arms. “Hawk, where did she go?”
“She turned to smoke,” he replied.
Amanda spoke in Lanvarian, tugging his arm. A moment later, the Virp translated. “We have to get back to Oriana. The ghost knows what she is. It’s not safe. We’re not safe.”
14
Tray had run simple simulations on Oriana’s flight program. He’d done controlled, safe takeoffs and landings. He’d helped Nolwazi modify the simulator calculations to account for the added weight of the avalan, but he never imagined that he’d be the one sitting in the pilot’s chair when the moment came. So far, he’d managed to simulate a catastrophic mid-air explosion and a catastrophic tumble into the jungle canopy.
“What’s going on out there?” Tray asked, hearing someone come up the stairs. Any of them would have been more confident behind the yoke than him.
“Hawk’s sick again,” Amanda reported, limping in from the ward room.
“You’re bleeding,” Tray observed.
>
“I was.” She showed him her palm, but the skin was smooth and clean. “The hybrid healed it. That’s what’s supposed to happen. When they show up!”
“Hybrid?” Tray repeated. So many of Amanda’s ravings, they dismissed as schizophrenic delusion, but Tray realized that all those times she’d cut herself, she’d fully expected some kind of spirit-being to show up an heal the wound. “As in strange portals bringing enemies onboard?”
“I don’t think she knows how to teleport, or she would have met us in the air,” Amanda said flippantly, tugging the front of her shirt, only then seeming to realize how damp it was. “What are you doing?”
“Practicing,” he said, getting out of the chair. Amanda stepped back, startled by his movement, or by some other hallucination.
“Time to put that practice to use. Fire up the engine. We have to get out of here,” she said. “It’s not safe. Not anymore.”
“Gladly.” Tray sank back into the pilot’s seat, worried she’d get violent if he contradicted her. His mind went blank for a moment, and he knew he couldn’t fly the ship. “Is Sky nursing Hawk?”
“We found the girl who brought us here—the one who attacked Saskia,” Amanda said, taking the captain’s seat, pulling up a knee. “She choked Sky, and now she wants Hawk.”
“Is Sky okay?” Tray asked, alarmed. He tapped his Feather. “Sky, are you alive?”
“The drones are moving,” Amanda said ominously. “We should, too.”
“Tray!” Sky raved, rushing onto the bridge, her face and neck flushed, her white clothes smeared with blood. “Can you scan for life in the city?”
“No. We don’t have that kind of equipment,” Tray said. “What’s going on?”
“There are survivors. We have to help them,” Sky said. Her blue eyes darted to and fro, as though she’d been hit with the same dose of paranoia as Saskia.
“There is one survivor, she’s a hybrid, and she attacked you!” Amanda countered.
“No. Well, yes, she did,” Sky allowed. “She said the others can’t leave. They’re prisoners. I hate prisoners. We free prisoners.”
“You’re a wanted felon in Rocan because you took hostages,” Tray pointed out, hating the complication delaying their departure rather than the cause.
“That’s very different. Hostages serve an immediate purpose,” Sky said, running her hand over her shirt. The blood seemed to streak off her white clothes, leaving a pool on the deck plates, but nothing on the garment.
The ship rattled and Tray clenched his fist, remembering the way his captors beat his arms until they were numb. The memory wasn’t looping as often now, but he felt paralyzed every time it did.
“Earthquake?” Amanda asked.
“Drone weapon,” Tray realized, seeing a warning on the hull integrity monitor. “Why are they attacking?”
“Because we know about the survivors,” Sky panted. “The machines took prisoners.”
When Danny had mentioned the machines that decimated ancient Earth, Tray had dismissed it as mythology. The people of Boone, with their love of war machines, had all the hallmarks of a city on the verge of machine uprising.
“The hybrid was the only one who could bring help. She could project herself through space, away from wherever the others are being held,” Amanda agreed, rubbing her face. “And I forced her out of hiding.”
“Saskia was attacked by a person; not a droid,” Tray pointed out, then paused. “No. Saskia saw a person. And then she was attacked.”
A second blast rattled the hull.
“You know what? Let’s explore these theories more when we’re airborne,” Tray suggested.
“We’ll have to get out of the line of fire if we’re going to be of any help to the survivors,” Sky agreed, reaching past Tray, firing up the engines. “Time to test how well the avalan improves our ability to fly by gravity.”
“Whoa!” Tray cried, grabbing the yoke with one hand, fumbling for his safety harness. “Sky, you have to fly this!”
“I’ll be in the grav-room. You’ve got this, Skipper,” Sky said, charging off the bridge. “Hawk, are you in engineering?”
“Nolwazi, prepare for takeoff,” Tray said, his blood pressure rising.
“Nolwazi is always prepared,” the computer replied.
“Amanda—”
“I can’t fly and look for Quin at the same time. The Occ doesn’t work that way,” Amanda said, rocking forward and back, entwining her fingers with the harness.
“I’m hoping once we’re up, we can get that signal again,” Tray said. “Wait. Every time I’ve asked if you see Quin with the Occ, you changed the subject.”
“I see the ships go up sometimes,” she nodded. “Liza didn’t want me to see, but now I see through her.”
“Help me take off. I can take over once we’re in the air, and you can keep your eyes on Quin,” Tray said. The simulation was over. This was it. Quin was within sight. The survivors could wait. By evening, he could be having dinner with his son.
“Sky, we’re ready,” Tray vrang, his heart racing. Amanda’s hands fell naturally to the yoke, and her fingers moved through the preflight control check as though she were playing a piano. She knew the sequence by heart, and murmured to herself words that Tray couldn’t make out.
“You make it look so easy,” Tray chuckled nervously.
“I like flying,” she said, a small smile rising. “I know you all think I’m just filling Corey’s spot. I wear her clothes, I eat her food.”
“You sleep next to Danny,” he teased.
Amanda squirmed, her hands pausing a moment, her rhythm lost. “My dad taught me to fly. Aren’t there things your dad taught you to do and every time you do it, you feel him with you?”
“All the time,” Tray said wistfully. The days after he’d been rescued from his kidnappers, he’d never left his father’s side. His father began conducting business out of the house, and it was the first time Tray truly appreciated the negotiating skills of a CEO. Tray’s son didn’t have that, yet, but he would soon.
“I don’t have a whole lot of memories,” Amanda said. “But when I fly, I remember his voice.”
“Then fly,” Tray said.
“I’m planning to,” Amanda smiled, then swallowed nervously. “Be ready, in case Liza stops me again.”
Tray thought about the motion-sickness tabs he kept in his quarters, that he would have taken an hour ago had this been a planned takeoff. He tapped the Vring.
“This is your acting captain and flight director,” he said, forcing humor despite the tremble in his voice. “If you can strap in, now would be a good time. A very good time.”
The wings rattled, and Tray realized he hadn’t stowed the solar panels. The first of the thrusters engaged, and Tray felt pressure on his chest.
“Why aren’t we lifting off?” Amanda asked, peering out the window. A few drones were lined up in their path, but Tray hoped they’d move clear once Oriana lifted. They weren’t firing, but they may have already done all the damage they’d intended.
“Nolwazi, why don’t we have thrust?” Tray asked.
“Thruster output is at 78%.”
“Then why aren’t we off the ground?” Tray said, checking the engine readings. There were no flags anywhere except at altitude.
“Unknown.”
“Guess!”
“The local gravitational constant has increased,” Nolwazi replied.
“I don’t think drones can do that,” Amanda said.
“Nothing can do that,” Tray grumbled. “Stupid, cheeky computer.”
The hull temperature rose as the power from the thrusters heated the ground and reflected back to the ship. “Sky, we’re not lifting!” Tray called. “Is something wrong with the grav-drive?”
“We’re at optimal output,” Sky said, swearing under her breath.
“Sky, shut it down! We’ve been sabotaged!” Amanda cried, smacking at the console to shut down the thrusters.
“Is it th
e droids? Is it the avalan?” Tray asked. They only had enough fuel for one more lift-off, and they were burning it! “Sky?”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Amanda whispered.
Tray shook his head, feeling a piece of his soul die with those words. “Check the fuel,” he said. “Do we have enough to try again?”
Danny winced at the sudden silence. The thrusters shut down and the g-forces pressing him into the infirmary bed lifted. The blanket was tucked under his chin, just as Tray had left it, and Danny didn’t want to disturb it. He relished tender moments with his brother.
He heard Saskia sit up and peeked one eye open. Her long hair fell over her eyes and her hands flapped against her side.
“Saskia,” he said, pushing up to his elbow.
Saskia rolled off the bed and slammed against the floor. Her limbs flailed, like Amanda’s did when she forgot about the gravity, but then her body went stiff and her open eyes stared blankly ahead.
“I’m going to pick you up,” Danny said, pulling her into his arms. Her body remained rigid, but he was able to get her back onto the bed. She rolled again, slurring sounds, saliva bubbling out of the corners of her mouth.
“No, you stay here. Stay in bed,” he soothed. Saskia twitched, like she was fighting, but pinned down. Then she let out a weak cry.
“We’re headed home soon. Very soon,” Danny said, rubbing her hand to still the twitching. “You need to hang on a little longer.”
Her eyes closed, but her breathing was still labored. He pulled up a stool to take the weight off of his tired bones. His head felt heavy, but he knew it was depression that called him back to the comfort of the bed.
“Mercy, Zive, bring us home,” he prayed, rubbing over Saskia’s knuckles until he felt her relax. He trudged back to his bed, leaning his elbows on it and putting his face in the mattress. The ship wasn’t moving and Saskia needed a doctor.
“Tray, is everything okay?” Danny asked, tapping his Feather.
Hybrid: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 4) Page 12
