“Fourth one is dead too,” Leonidas said, now standing over one in the corner.
Alisa looked away. She didn’t need to know how each of these men had died. Instead, she tried to focus on opening the box, but she could see Leonidas look over at her out of the corner of her eye.
“I didn’t hit this one, and neither did you,” he said.
“What?” she asked, her gaze pulled back to him. And the dead chasadski.
“I think the drug killed him.”
Alisa licked her lips. “Tiang said it wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“Tiang only got to test it on rats.”
“Shit.” More horrified than ever, Alisa turned back to the box. “Thorian?” she whispered.
“Abelardus pushed the blue button with his mind,” Leonidas said, walking toward her. “But the drug might not have dissipated yet. You should wait.”
“He might be in there, already exposed.”
Alisa pushed the button before she remembered that the box had shocked Leonidas. She was so worried about Thorian that she might have pushed it anyway.
A jolt of electricity ran up her arm, and some power flung her backward. She might have flown all the way to the bulkhead, but Leonidas caught her.
“That was stupid,” she muttered to herself.
The lid of the box flung open. Abelardus rose up from inside it, and Alisa would have fallen over if Leonidas hadn’t been holding her. She glanced at the trapdoor. She’d been certain he had gone that way.
“By all that’s evil, it stinks in there,” he growled. He reached down with both hands and pulled a slender, battered figure out of the box. Thorian.
He did not appear conscious. He wore the same black robe Alisa had last seen him in, but it was ripped and sodden, and his hair hung limply around his head.
“Get out of the room,” Leonidas said, taking Thorian from his arms. “Don’t breathe deeply until we’re away from here.”
Abelardus cursed before catching himself, then sprang from the box. He grabbed his staff from a corner where it had fallen, glanced at the dead men, but didn’t say anything else until he’d leaped up, thrown his staff into the corridor above them, and pulled himself out of the dungeon. Alisa sprang after him, worried that more opponents might wait for them. But the corridor was empty.
The lights dimmed as Leonidas handed Thorian up to her, and an alarm started wailing.
“The hull has been breached,” a computerized voice announced. “Containment procedures beginning. Power conservation measures activated.”
“We need to get off this ship,” Abelardus said—he’d scooted well down the corridor to wait for them and was eyeing the trapdoor warily.
Leonidas joined them on the deck and kicked the door shut.
“Can you keep carrying him?” he asked Alisa, hefting his rifle in one hand and the canister launcher in the other.
“I’m fairly certain I could carry you in this suit,” she said, trying for a touch of humor, though her heart wasn’t in it. How long had it been since Mica reported thirty-five percent power to the Nomad? Would the ship be able to take off even if they made it back before the Alliance blew this mining vessel into the nearest star?
“Something to try during our next training session,” he said, clapping her on the shoulder.
He broke into a run, not waiting for Abelardus to lead this time. Alisa ran after him, cradling Thorian in her arms and trying not to jostle him. He was alive but far gaunter than he had been a few weeks ago—he looked like he hadn’t been fed much since she had last seen him. If her asshole uncle had kept him locked in that box the whole time, she would strangle him with her own hands.
Chapter 25
Alarms continued to wail, and the lighting flashed red as Alisa, Abelardus, and Leonidas ran through the corridors. Alisa, still carrying Thorian, picked up speed when she spotted the familiar door that led to the hangar bay, warped and stuck two-thirds of the way open from Leonidas’s forced exit. She hoped the ship would let them leave even if that door was broken and the bay wouldn’t depressurize. If not, Mica would have yet another repair job to do.
“Leonidas?” Abelardus asked. He reached the door just before Alisa and looked back.
Leonidas had stopped in front of a big monitor embedded in the bulkhead. When Alisa had glanced at it earlier, she’d assumed it was a map or directory.
“You don’t need to look at that,” she said. “You’re not staying here.”
He didn’t look at her. No, he seemed to be trying to memorize something.
An inkling of what he meant to do sank into her bones like a damp chill, and her shoulders slumped.
“Leonidas, we’ve got who we came for, and I know you don’t care about that staff. Let the Alliance handle the rest of this.”
“They’re not handling it.” Leonidas tapped a button, bringing up an exterior display of the mining vessel—of the battle. “They’re outnumbered, and even if they manage to disable this ship, all Tymoteusz needs to do is take a shuttle over to one of his allies’ ships. Several of those civilian craft are faster than your warships. We can’t let him get out of here with that staff again.”
Alisa’s shoulders slumped further. Was it true? Were her people losing? Even with Stanislav’s help?
“Abelardus?” Leonidas called, switching back to the map of the mining ship. “Are Tymoteusz and the rest of his people still on the bridge?”
“Most of them, yes,” Abelardus said. “There may be a couple looking for us. There are definitely miners looking for us.”
“But Tymoteusz is there.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Here,” Alisa said, shifting Thorian’s unconscious form so she could hand him to Abelardus. “Take him into the Nomad, and get everyone else in there too. Tell Mica she better be able to detonate those explosives remotely.”
“Uh.” Abelardus accepted Thorian, juggling him awkwardly to carry him over his shoulder while still holding his staff. “We can’t leave without the pilot.”
“You’re a pilot.”
“Your ship is a dilapidated wreck, and I’ve never flown it.”
“If you and Mica can’t point it in a straight line and get it out of a hangar, you’re both fired.”
“Alisa. Let him stay and be a martyr if he wants—” Abelardus jerked his head toward Leonidas, “—but don’t you be foolish. This isn’t your fight.”
Someone finally noticed. “I’m not leaving him here to get himself killed.”
“How will you being at his side stop that?”
“I may not be able to do anything against Tymoteusz, but if he—we—can somehow take him down, then there’s no need for the battle to continue. The mafia could never take over the system without his help. I can comm the Alliance and tell them—they’ll listen to me.” Maybe. “They might even be so pleased that they’ll pick us up and give us a ride back to the Nomad.”
“You’re delusional.”
“I thought you were the one who wanted that staff.”
“I did, but that was before I realized it wouldn’t respond to me and before you made it clear we weren’t going to have powerful Starseer babies who could grow up to use it.”
Alisa smiled faintly. And here she’d thought that had been clear from the beginning.
She patted him on the shoulder. “Go. Take Thorian and get everyone to safety.”
“Safety? Where in a million miles is that?” Abelardus muttered, but he did step into the hangar bay.
“We’ll join you soon,” Alisa called after him. “Tell Mica what I said. And tell Jelena—” Her throat tightened, and she struggled to get the words out. Not goodbye, damn it. She wasn’t going to get herself killed. She was going along to make sure Leonidas didn’t get himself killed. “Tell her I love her.”
Abelardus waved his staff in acknowledgment, but from the way he shook his head, his long braids dancing on his back, he didn’t agree with anything she was doing.
“What’s new?” Alisa muttered and ran back toward Leonidas.
Her comm beeped before she reached him.
“Captain,” Mica said. “We’re down to twenty percent power. If we’re to have any chance to take off and escape this ship, I need to get us in the air now.”
“Get everyone inside and blow those explosives,” Alisa said. “You’re flying the ship out of here. Abelardus has more orders.”
“Flying… What are you blathering about, Alisa? Where are you?”
“You heard me. Just do it. I’ll get in touch as soon as I can.” Alisa closed the comm.
Leonidas turned away from the map on the big monitor to face her.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “The bridge?”
“I’m going to the bridge, eventually, to make sure that bastard doesn’t escape, and to make sure the Alliance doesn’t get the staff. You’re going to pilot the Nomad out of here.”
“You’re worried about the stupid staff? I thought this was about killing the evil bastard who locked Thorian in that box.”
“It is.” Leonidas pointed at the hangar door. “Go, Alisa. I’m not letting you come with me. This ship might get blown out of the sky any second.”
“And I’m not letting you give me orders. I intend to make sure this ship doesn’t get blown out of the sky, not with you on it, and also that you don’t do something reckless and suicidal.”
“Your daughter needs her mother.”
“And she needs her cyborg too.” She slapped him on the chest. “Even if she doesn’t know it yet.”
“Quit joking. I’m not arguing with you about—”
“We’re wasting time,” Alisa said, making herself stay calm and reasonable, though she could almost feel the heat of his temper radiating through his armor. “Whatever your plan is, let’s go.”
They were both still wearing their helmets and faceplates, but she had no trouble seeing the frustration and anger in his eyes. He gritted his teeth, looking very much like he was thinking about slinging her over his shoulder, throwing her in the Nomad’s cargo hold, and locking the hatch behind her.
“You have a plan,” Alisa said. “I can see it in your eyes. I’ll watch your back while you do it, and I won’t get in your way. Let’s go.”
He spun on his heel and stalked away. She jogged after him, trying not to feel stung that he clearly did not want her along. Maybe he was right in that her place was with the Nomad, with her daughter. But she’d seen how easily Tymoteusz could squash him in a confrontation. She was terrified that he would get himself killed, that he would let himself get killed if he knew that Alisa and the Nomad had already escaped and he was only fighting for his own life. Maybe she was foolish to think he’d be less reckless with his life if she was at his side, but she honestly believed she could help him. This needed a scheme, not just brute force. And scheming was what she did.
Leonidas took them into a lift that creaked when they entered. It was dark inside, only the indicators of the panel still lit, and Alisa doubted it would even work. But when he hit the button, the car started moving, albeit creakily. An explosion sounded in the distance, and the ship rocked and shuddered. Alisa prayed that Mica and the others could get the Nomad out of here. To lose her ship and her people—her daughter—under the assault of Alliance fire, after all she had fought for in the war… It was too horrible to contemplate.
“Down?” Alisa asked, noticing the doors opened on a lower deck. She’d glanced at that map and seen that the bridge was located on the top level, near the nose of the mile-long vessel. “We’re not going to the bridge?”
“Not yet.” Leonidas strode out without explaining further.
“Maybe you should tell me your plan, in case ten androids leap out from around a corner and incapacitate you. Then I can finish executing it on your behalf.”
He did not answer. She scowled at the back of his helmet. Now he was just sulking.
They turned a corner and came face-to-face with a blast door that had been dropped into the middle of the corridor.
“Uh?” Alisa stared at it. “Is someone paying attention to us? And deliberately blocking our way?”
Leonidas checked a nearby wall panel, the rim of which flashed red. Someone had turned off the audible alarm, but emergency lighting continued to be the main source of illumination throughout the ship.
“There’s a hull breach down there,” he said, waving at the blast door. “The section has been sealed off, and there’s no atmosphere on the other side.”
“But we’re going to visit it anyway?” Alisa eyed the massive door. It had dropped down from the ceiling, probably with the authority of a boulder. It looked thick and like it would be a lot harder to tear through than a regular door, even for a cyborg.
“We have to. I’m not walking onto the bridge without an advantage.”
“An advantage other than me?” She smiled at him, even though she knew he wasn’t in the mood. If they did end up dying, she didn’t want things to end with him mad at her.
“Yes.” There was no hint of humor in his voice, but he came to stand next to her in front of the door and touched her shoulder. “Is your oxygen tank full?”
“Yes, I always make sure it is before I store my armor.” Which was good, because that had been the last thing on her mind when she’d been standing in her cabin, deciding if she should wear the stuff.
“Good. Watch my back.” Leonidas slung the canister launcher across his torso and handed her one of his rifles.
“Gladly. You know it’s a sexy back, right?”
“So I’ve been told.” He squatted and ran his fingers along the crack between door and deck.
“Really? By whom? Not Solstice, I hope.”
“I seem to remember Hawk mentioning it back when we were fighting at the temple.” He wasn’t able to force his gauntleted fingers into the crack, so he slammed his elbow against the base of the door instead, denting it heroically.
“You sure that wasn’t your ass he was admiring?”
“It might have been.”
“He seemed like an ass man.”
After denting the door, the bottom lip curled up just enough for him to find purchase for his fingers. He assumed a wide, deep stance, and Alisa was about to admire all parts of his sexy backside as he lifted the door, but the sound of footsteps came from around the corner. He hesitated, looking back.
“Keep lifting,” Alisa said, taking a step from the door and raising his rifle to the crook of her shoulder. “I’ll handle it.”
She hoped that was true. It sounded like a lot of footsteps. Fast ones too. Whoever was coming was running.
Leonidas inched the hulking door up, and a blast of wind swept past Alisa’s armored legs, air racing into the vacuum on the other side. She thought he might shove the door high enough that they could both dive through, but their opponents ran around the corner first. Miners. They didn’t hesitate to fire.
Alisa dared not hesitate, either, not when she and Leonidas had no cover. Their blazer bolts splashed off her armored chest. Hers slammed into their unarmored torsos. They keeled over backward, dying silently. When she fired at the men just behind the first row, her bolts once again bit in deep, but these miners did not fall. They kept running. She groaned, belatedly recognizing the silvery eyes of a pair of androids.
“Leonidas,” she said. “Going to need help. Sorry.” The door would have to wait.
Or so she thought. A hand wrapped around her calf, and she found herself pulled off her feet. She flew backward, dragged along the floor and under the door—Leonidas squatted under it, holding it up with his shoulder. He fired at the androids with one arm blazer even as he shoved her the rest of the way through.
Alisa jumped to her feet, only to have her feet leave the deck and her helmet crack against the ceiling. Oxygen wasn’t the only thing missing from this section of the ship. Gravity was either gone or extremely minimal.
Grunting, she pushed herself back to the deck and ordered her
boots to magnetize. Leonidas rolled past as the blast door slammed down again. Muted clangs and clanks came from the other side.
“Will they keep following?” Alisa asked as Leonidas found his feet.
“They might,” he said, and she now heard him only over her helmet comm. “Those androids can do exactly what I did. Come on.” He touched her shoulder again, indicating she should walk beside him instead of following.
She smiled, glad he seemed to have forgiven her for being stubborn. And probably wrong. “I promise you, their backs won’t be as sexy when they do it.”
“Good to know.”
The corridor opened up into a much larger chamber, one full of conveyor belts for sorting. Pieces of ore and dirt floated around the area. Readings scrolled down the side of Alisa’s liquid Glastica faceplate, warning her of the harsh conditions in the corridor and that she was now consuming air from her tank. Sometimes, the armor liked to state the obvious.
“There it is,” Leonidas said, taking them around a large holding bin and into sight of a door along the bulkhead.
Environmental Control Center, a plaque read.
“I hope the vents will work,” he said, punching a button to open the door. “I wasn’t planning for airlessness when I thought of this.”
“You probably should have run the idea by me. Or told me what the idea was at least.” Alisa followed him into a room filled with clunky computers that looked to be a hundred years old. Alarms flashed. The space was as devoid of air as the rest of the section.
“I was afraid you would be so impressed by it that you’d insist on coming along to see it enacted.”
“I’d say something sarcastic in response to that, but it tickles me to no end when you make jokes.” The ship shuddered again, and a crack sounded in the distance. “Especially when our demise is imminent.”
“This leads into the duct system for the entire ship,” Leonidas said, heading to a hulking control unit in the corner.
End Game Page 34
