Troy didn’t hesitate. He dropped to one knee and extended his pistol, squinting to take aim. Before Cara could tell him to stop, he squeezed off four deafening shots. The hybrids flinched and ducked. Cara thought she saw Jaxen stumble backward a pace, but it was hard to tell.
“I hit him,” Troy said, standing. “I need a closer shot.”
And with that, he took off at a sprint, kicking up dust in his wake. Elle followed, yelling for him to wait. Cara started after them, then remembered Syrine’s broken ankle. The healing accelerant must’ve done its job, because Syrine sped past her.
The dusty air dulled Cara’s sight as she followed the others. By the time she caught up, she found the hybrids divided. Aisly sat alone at the cliff’s edge, cradling an injured foot, while about ten yards away, Jaxen stood protectively in front of Rune. A patch of blood blossomed out from his stomach. It seemed to be spreading quickly. When Troy fired another shot, Jaxen absorbed the bullet’s velocity with his staff and rebounded that energy in a bolt that sent Troy hurtling backward. His pistol landed on the sand, and Syrine dove for it. Once she had the weapon in her grasp, Jaxen knocked her into a violent roll.
“It’s over,” Cara called to Jaxen. “Aelyx disabled both of your ships. You’ll die if that wound isn’t treated, but if you lay down your staff and—” A force slammed into her, and she landed hard on the dirt.
She brushed herself off and watched Jaxen summon his hovercraft. Once it reached him, he scooped Rune into his arms and stepped onto the narrow board. “A generous offer, Cah-ra,” he hollered with a grin, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
Decline? Had he lost his mind? There was nowhere to go. He would bleed out before the hovercraft carried him beyond the desert.
Aisly managed to stand on one wobbly leg, raising a hand toward Jaxen as if hailing a cab. He rose higher and higher into the air, then began motoring in the other direction. Aisly let out a sob of panic and shouted to him in L’eihr. “Jaxen! Don’t leave me!”
But that was exactly what he did. It appeared Rune had replaced more than just Cara in his brittle excuse for a heart. All alone, Aisly screamed obscenities at him, until she noticed Troy and Syrine approaching. She glanced behind her, but there was nowhere to go but down.
Wiping the dirt from her face, Aisly tried to appeal to Syrine, who held the gun trained on her chest. “You need me. I’m the only one who can bring back your l’ihan. If I die, he dies, too.”
“He’s already dead,” Syrine replied in an eerie calm. “But don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you.” She added, “Yet.”
“Give me the gun,” Troy ordered, but Syrine waved him off. The pistol began to tremble in her fist. If she didn’t calm down, she’d shoot Aisly whether she meant to or not.
Cara wedged herself between the two, holding out a hand for the pistol. “It’s okay, Syrine. You can give me the gun. I promise I won’t let Troy shoot her.”
After that, everything happened in a rush.
Aisly called Troy’s name, and he made the mistake of looking her in the eyes. An instant later, he rounded on Cara and grabbed her by the throat. Cara clawed at his fingers as her airway closed. She kicked and sputtered, but nothing fazed him. He dragged her toward Syrine, using his free hand to snatch at the pistol.
Elle stepped in, throwing a handful of sand in Aisly’s face. Then she picked up a smooth stone and struck Troy in the head. At once, the fingers around Cara’s throat loosened, and her brother collapsed.
Blinded, Aisly fought to maintain her balance while clearing the grit from her eyes. She began to stumble backward, dangerously close to the ledge. Cara lunged out to grab her. The tips of her fingers skimmed Aisly’s tunic, but before she could get a better grip, the arid soil crumbled beneath Aisly’s feet, and she fell backward into the abyss.
Cara’s breath caught in horror. Aisly’s screams echoed through the night and then abruptly cut off, replaced by a macabre silence. Goose bumps raised on Cara’s forearms. She remembered her brother and dropped to her knees by his side.
“Will he be okay?” she asked Elle.
“I’m sure there are healing accelerants in Aisly’s shuttle. She would have needed them after Troy shot—” Elle cut off with a gasp, pointing back the way they’d come. “Jaxen!”
Cara leaned around Elle, squinting in the growing darkness at their shuttle, which was still partially embedded in a pile of dirt. Jaxen pointed his staff at the engine, and it hummed to life, restored of the energy he’d stolen from it.
Cara jumped to her feet. “He’s stealing our shuttle.”
“All of our things are in there,” Syrine said, then drew a sharp breath. “David’s things are in there!”
But they were powerless to stop him. Jaxen and Rune boarded the shuttle, and the engine revved in reverse, freeing its nose from the dirt. Moments later the craft ascended, and then it was gone.
Cara’s com-sphere buzzed. Aelyx asked, “Where are you going? Come back.”
“That’s not me.” She explained what had happened. “I hope you didn’t ruin Aisly’s shuttle, because we’re going to need it.”
Larish’s face popped into view. “I only removed her cables. I can reinstall them.”
“How about the Aribols’ coordinates?” Cara asked. “Did you find them?”
Aelyx answered with a smile, his teeth glowing white in the darkness.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
His grin fell. “I thought you’d be happier.”
“I’ll take a celebratory rain check. Right now I need to restrain my brother before he wakes up and tries to kill me again.”
“Stay where you are,” Aelyx said. “I’ll come to you.”
Ten minutes later, an unconscious Troy was tied to the front passenger seat in Aisly’s shuttle while the rest of the group stood outside his open door, trying to figure out how to undo the effects of Aisly’s brainwashing. Cara had a feeling the girl’s death hadn’t magically erased whatever orders she’d given Troy. The hybrids had a way of permanently altering minds when they wanted to.
“I was right,” Elle said. She knelt on the ground, using a flashlight to sort through the medical kit she’d found in the shuttle. “There’s some healing accelerant left.”
Elle filled a syringe with milky fluid and injected it into the side of Troy’s neck. He began to stir, and Elle hopped back just in time. Fully awake, Troy thrashed wildly against his bindings with the kind of fury that made Cara worry he might hurt himself.
“Can we sedate him?” she asked.
“I’m already working on it.” Elle used another syringe to inject Troy with something that caused his muscles to relax. He didn’t fall asleep, but his eyelids slid to half-mast and he rested his head against the seatback.
Cara massaged her temples. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t take her brother to the hospital. The Marines would arrest him, and regardless, there was no cure for this sort of thing in the medical handbook.
Syrine made her way to the front of the group. “I’d like to try something.”
Cara moved aside.
“I’ve never seen into the minds of Aisly’s victims,” Syrine said. She situated herself in front of Troy and took his head between both hands. “I’m curious whether I can remove her influence the way I can remove negative emotions.”
She peered deeply into Troy’s eyes and fell silent while Cara held her breath in anticipation. The seconds ticked by and turned into minutes. Syrine’s hands began to shake. She strained to hold the connection until she abruptly broke away and slouched over, panting for breath. Cara was about to ask if it worked when Troy blinked sleepily and slurred, “Shouldn’t have looked her in the eyes. I told you that bitch has skills.”
Cara sighed with relief. “Had skills. Aisly’s dead.”
“Good,” he mumbled. “She told me to kill all of you, then shoot myself.” He yawned widely and flinched. “Why does my head hurt?”
Elle extended a hand to
touch him and then pulled back. “I’m sorry. I hit you harder than I meant to.”
Syrine grinned at her friend. “I’m fairly certain you’ll earn his forgiveness,” she said in L’eihr. “He’s in love with you. I felt it.”
Elle’s mouth flew open in perfect sync with her eyes. She snapped her gaze to Troy, but he didn’t notice. His lids had drifted shut, and he’d begun snoring lightly.
Cara shared an amused glance with Aelyx and then cleared her throat. “Do you think you can do that again?” she asked Syrine. “To a whole group of people?”
Syrine blotted her forehead with her shirt hem. “Yes, one at a time. I’d have to rest in between sessions, though.”
“Perfect.” Cara smiled, cashing in her celebratory rain check. “Let’s see if we can book you an appointment with the president.”
Chapter Thirteen
I’ll pass the coordinates on to the navigator team.” Jake swallowed hard enough to shift his Adam’s apple. His hologram paled visibly, which was saying a lot, as his blond-haired, blue-eyed software geek complexion was fair to begin with. “I can’t believe you found them.”
Neither could Cara. But now that her adrenaline had worn off and the night breeze cooled her flushed skin, she understood Jake’s reaction. She felt a prickle of sympathy for him. She’d been so focused on pinpointing the location of the Aribols’ home planet that she hadn’t given much thought to what the Voyagers would have to do with those coordinates. Soon they would go knocking on hell’s door to face an enemy they knew nothing about.
They had to be terrified.
“Will you pass along something else for me, too?” she asked.
“What is it?”
“My gratitude. I want all the colonists on board, yourself included, to know how proud I am of you. None of you had to join the search. You volunteered. And what you’re about to do is the bravest thing I can imagine.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad to have you on my team, Jake.”
The praise seemed to make him uncomfortable. He scratched the back of his neck and inspected his shoes while mumbling something vaguely resembling a thank you. He peeked up through his lashes. “If that’s it, will you hand me to Syrine? I want to ask her something before I go.”
Cara bit the inside of her cheek and glanced at the shuttle, where Syrine and the others were catching a few hours of much needed shuteye. “Now’s not a good time.”
“Oh. I’ll try her later, then.”
Cara was pretty sure what Jake wanted to ask Syrine, and later wasn’t a good time for that discussion either. “There’s something you should know. I don’t want this getting out, so keep it between us.” After Jake nodded, she told him how Aisly had manipulated Syrine with the false promise of reanimating the love of her life. “Now she’s grieving for him all over again, so you can probably imagine why it’s a bad idea to ask her for romantic advice.”
Jake’s whole face melted into a frown. “The poor girl. That’s awful.”
“Yes, it is,” Cara agreed. “So why don’t you ask me instead?”
His blond brows shot up.
“Oh, come on, I’m totally qualified for this. I fell for a L’eihr, too, remember? I know better than anyone what you’re going through. The whole ‘culture clash’ thing was a nightmare at first.”
“At first?” That piqued his interest. “So it got easier?”
“Sure, but there was a lot of trial and error along the way.” Cara thought back to those first awkward weeks with Aelyx. Neither of them had understood anything about the other. She’d tried to force-feed him pizza, which he’d hated, and he’d offended her with his clinical honesty regarding her waist-to-hip ratio. Even their first kiss had happened because of a competition to see whose method of expressing affection was best. (She’d won.) “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on between you and …” She tried to remember the L’eihr girl’s name. “Arah?”
“Ayah.”
“Right. Ayah.”
“Nothing’s going on,” Jake said. “That’s the problem. We finished the project, and now it’s business as usual. Sometimes I catch her looking at me in the cafeteria, but she only talks to me if I ask her a direct question. I can’t get a read on her signals.”
“Ah, signals.” Cara understood all too well what he meant. “Here’s the thing. Humans and L’eihrs have different social cues. Our signals don’t match. She probably has no idea you like her.” That’d been the case with Elle and Troy. “Your best bet is to be direct.”
Jake cringed. “To come right out and say Hey, I like you?”
“Maybe not in those exact words. You could tell her how much you enjoyed her company when you two were working together, and then invite her to a game of dice in the common room so you can get to know each other better. Make it clear you want to find out if the two of you are compatible. That’s what most clones care about.”
The suggestion seemed to scare him more than his impending invasion of Planet Aribol.
“Look at it this way,” Cara said. “Both our species might be dead in a week. What have you got to lose?”
He tipped his head. “You know, that’s not a bad pickup line.”
“On that uplifting note, I should go. I need to schedule an appointment to deprogram the president.”
Jake cracked a grin. “As one does.”
“I know, right? Just another day in the life of Cara Sweeney.”
“Hey, by the way,” Jake said right before they disconnected, “thanks.”
“Anytime, Jake. Good luck to you.” She shut down the call and whispered, “Good luck to us both.”
The worst side effect of supersonic globetrotting was losing track of the days, closely followed by a level of exhaustion Cara liked to call “stupid tired,” in which she caught herself spreading cream cheese on her napkin instead of the bagel Larish had bought for her from the corner deli.
They were back in Manhattan, safely cloaked inside Aisly’s shuttle, while Syrine and Colonel Rutter met with the president and the Earth Council inside the United Nations building. The pair had only been gone for an hour, and though Syrine had successfully removed Aisly’s influence from three Council members, she had a long way to go before it was safe for Cara to go inside and meet with them.
So now there was nothing to do but wait.
“Ugh.” She found a smudge of cream cheese on her wrist and licked it off before remembering she hadn’t had a shower in two days. Or was it three? God, it hadn’t been four, had it? “I can’t eat this,” she said, holding up her naked bagel. “I’m too tired to chew.” She turned around and handed it to her brother in the backseat. “Want the rest?”
Troy had already eaten, but he never refused good food. He tore the bagel in half and offered part of it to Elle, who sat beside him rifling through a duffel bag she’d found in the rear hatch. Though Troy was only being polite, Elle gaped at him as if he’d dropped to one knee and thrust a diamond ring in her face.
“What?” he asked. “I didn’t lick it or anything.”
Elle scooted an inch toward the window. “I’m not hungry.”
Troy made a suit-yourself gesture and tore off a bite. He chewed contentedly for a few moments until he noticed Elle staring at him, and then he glanced at her, lowering one black brow.
“What?” he asked a second time.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
She dropped her gaze to the duffel. “I’m not looking at you.”
He shook his head, muttering to himself about women.
Cara tried not to laugh. Ever since Elle had learned about Troy’s crush, she’d been studying him like he was a statue on display at the Louvre. Cara didn’t know if that was a good sign, but she figured it was her sisterly duty to give her brother a hand.
She winked at Aelyx and then said to Larish in the back, “Hey, do you mind switching seats with me? I need a nap, and there’s more room back there.”
“Certainly.”
/>
They took turns climbing in between the front seats. Cara sat on the opposite end from Elle, putting Troy in the middle. She kicked off her flats and curled up on the seat, then pointed at her brother’s lap. “Can I use you as a pillow?” When the corners of his mouth pulled down, she added, “You did try to choke me today. Or yesterday. I can’t remember.”
He pushed her head down.
“And scoot over,” she said.
He moved an inch toward Elle.
“More.”
Another inch.
“A little more.”
“Keep it up, Pepper,” he grumbled, “and I’ll finish what I started.”
Since she’d already accomplished her goal, Cara didn’t press her luck. She rested her cheek on Troy’s lap and snuggled down a little farther into the seat cushion. Almost as soon as she closed her eyes, she felt herself drifting toward sleep, and then she was out.
“The president sends her deepest apologies for attacking you,” Colonel Rutter said later that afternoon when he escorted Cara inside the United Nations building and to the Earth Council headquarters on the thirtieth floor. “And for issuing the order to shoot you on sight.”
Cara scoffed. She’d expected an invitation to the White House for a weekend of groveling, but whatever.
“And,” the colonel continued, “she would appreciate it if you kept the details of the incident to yourself.” He whispered behind his hand, “She’s up for reelection.”
“My lips are sealed,” Cara promised. “As long as she calls a press conference to tell everyone I’m not a threat to national security.”
“It’s already in the works. We’re blaming the mistake on bad intel.”
Of course they were. Politicians. “Oh, and I want my blog fully restored—every single post, follower, and comment.”
“I’ll see to it personally.”
Rutter held the door open for her, and she preceded him into the Earth Council lobby. From what he’d said, a conference was already in session between Alona and the Council. Now that the world’s leaders had their marbles restored, there was a lot of catching up to do.
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