by Ramona Finn
And there was just dead silence.
“Glade? Glade?” Aine shouted into the comm. Still, there was nothing. “She must be in the one-man ship, then. Should I try and comm it?”
“No,” Kupier decided immediately. “Let’s not give him any extra warning here. If he’s friendly, then he won’t mind being overtaken by the Ray. If he’s hostile, then there’s no use giving him a head start.”
With that, Wells and Aine were tossed unceremoniously from their seats as Kupier hit full-speed on the Ray. And the Ray had considerable speed. Even if the pilot of the one-man ship saw them coming, there was little chance that he would be able to…
“He’s getting away!” Wells shouted when he ducked his head back up to the windshield and buckled himself into his seat. He wasn’t taking any more chances with getting tossed around the cockpit like that.
“This pilot’s got experience,” Aine agreed, also buckling herself in. Being who she was, she automatically enabled the Ray’s weapons system and got her hands on the ready.
“Easy,” Kupier said to her as an aside. But he ground his teeth also because, yeah, whoever was piloting that ship had more skills than was currently convenient for Kupier. The one-man ship pivoted around a cargo ship and dispensed with the pleasantries; the second it was clear of Charon’s atmosphere, its jets went from red to white-blue and became merely a speck in the sky.
Kupier grinned darkly, fierce and determined. “At least we know that Glade isn’t piloting that ship.”
Aine and Wells both laughed, the sounds loud and stressed inside the cockpit. Everyone knew that, as talented as Glade was at almost everything, she wasn’t the most graceful pilot of all time, and whoever was flying the one-man ship had more than skills – they had style.
“They’ve modified the ship, Kupier,” Aine said, leaning forward for a better view. The Ray was gaining now, but not as fast as they should have been. “That’s faster than our normal one-ers.”
“I know. And knowing those Authority assholes, they probably put their damn blackhole technology on there, as well.”
“They definitely did,” Wells agreed.
He’d been a mechanic on the Station for a long time and Kupier was inclined to believe him; he nodded in acknowledgement of the comment and glanced over at him.
Wells added, “I was on the crew that first analyzed the ship that Glade took from you all.”
“We gave it to her. It was part of a plan.”
“Right. Well, your grand plan fed some pretty sick technology right into the hands of the engineers on the Station. I wasn’t privy to whatever they ended up doing with it, but basically, yeah, I knew they were going to utilize it.”
“Well, he’s not going to be able to skip through an artificial blackhole until he gets out of range of our protective shield,” Kupier said through gritted teeth as he made an executive decision to dump some fuel in exchange for a faster split.
The one-man ship got larger in their windshield as they gained. It still spiraled through space like a squid through ink, though. It was a smaller, more agile ship than the Ray, but the Ray had bigger thrusters. Which really counted in a moment like this.
“How far does the shield go?” Wells shouted over the roar of the engines.
“Just past Pluto!” Aine shouted back. None of them acknowledged that Pluto was looming large in their right windshield. If they didn’t catch that ship before it passed Pluto, there was a chance it was going to skip through a blackhole, and then there would be absolutely no way to know where the ship had gone. Glade would have disappeared. Unfindable.
Kupier dumped more fuel and activated the last set of thrusters, the ones that were barely ever used. The Ray shook in her bolts as they rocketed through the air, and the stars blurred from points into lines all around them as they moved so fast that their lungs turned to rocks in their chests.
Kupier wasn’t sure his heart was even beating at this speed. It felt like a solid, dripping thing, caged up in his throat. He thought of nothing but getting Glade back. If he didn’t, she was toast. There was no question in his mind that, if she was put back into the hands of the Authority, they wouldn’t waste another second on her free will. He’d seen first-hand how the tech in her arm and brain had controlled her. He knew that her free will had been important to them while they’d been learning whether or not she had the capacity to do what they needed her to do, but now that they knew she didn’t? Well, they would just completely control her every move. Glade as he knew her would be gone forever, lost inside the artificial intelligence that lived inside of her body.
No. A really solid no to that. Kupier refused to let a thing like that happen to Glade. To this person he loved so much.
He was dimly aware of one of the others screaming to one side of him. He knew that their speeds were approaching dangerous levels. This was g-force speed, passing out speed. Still, he pushed it. The one-man ship was getting larger and larger in their windshield. Closer and closer.
“Aine! Ready the ray!” It was what the Ray had been named for, their signature weapon. And they so rarely had cause to use it.
“Way ahead of you!” she shouted, leaning forward over the control panel, her hand poised over a toggle that she wielded with prodigious skill. “Get us just a little closer.”
“Kupier!” Wells screamed. “He’s getting ready to skip! He’s turning over because he’s getting ready to skip!”
Sure enough, the one-man ship was flipping upside down and a hatch was opening on the far side. In less than ten seconds, they would be somewhere across the solar system, maybe even as far away as Saturn, and there would be absolutely no way for the Ray to catch up.
Kupier had no more speed to give the Ray, so all he could do was lean forward and yell. Aine’s voice joined his as she pointed their weapon, their ray, and aimed. It was a blue-green cloud that sprayed out of the Ray and onto the one-man skip.
The one-man skip juddered, about to make it’s skip, when… there!
“Hell, yes!” Kupier screamed out. The blue-green cloud enveloped the one-man ship and suddenly tightened into a lasso-like rope. The color intensified and brightened as the one-man ship’s electricity died and the ship went dark.
“Reel them in.” Kupier sagged over the control panel as he shifted the steering controls and started bringing them around in a great, speeding arc, back in the direction of Charon. He slowed their speed to tenable levels. “Their power is out,” he added, “which means their oxygen levels are going to deplete soon. We have to get them aboard.”
“Ah,” Wells said, glancing up at Kupier and placing one hand over the pulse at his throat like he was willing it to steady. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“You want them to suffocate?”
“No. I mean, of course not. But seriously, Dahn Enceladus is pretty much as skilled as Glade is; only, he doesn’t have any sort of conscience. I’m not sure inviting him onto the Ray while we’re in deep space and only three-strong is a great idea.”
Kupier growled in the back of his throat. “I’m getting a little sick of hearing how awesome this guy is. We’re awesome, too, alright? We have weapons and a dampener and we’ve got Glade. She’ll help us.”
Aine stared at him. “Kupier, don’t be blind; Glade is a complete unknown right now.”
“Hasn’t she proven her fidelity to us enough already?”
Aine nodded. “She as her own person has, sure. But we don’t know if he’s activated her tech. We don’t know if she’s even conscious on that skip. Or alive. We don’t know anything. All we know is that someone we’re pretty sure is Dahn Enceladus is in that one-er – and we’re supposed to invite him aboard? I’m with Wells on this. I think we need to trust their air supply and get back to Charon as fast as humanly possible. We’ll call every Ferryman to the landing deck, including Cast, and then we’ll let them out of there.”
Kupier glanced at the fuel tanks, and then at the mileage from Charon. “It’ll be tight for th
eir air supply.”
“So be it,” Aine said, crossing her hands over her chest. “It’ll be our advantage if the Datapoints on that ship are a little woozy when we land.”
Kupier gritted his teeth in response, but he knew his companions were right. There were too many unknowns waiting in that ship for the three of them to take chances. If he opened it up, took Dahn inside the Ray, and then something happened to Aine or Wells, he’d never forgive himself. He just had to get them back to Charon as fast as he could and hope there was enough oxygen in there for Glade to be alright.
“Buckle in again,” Kupier growled.
And that was all the warning they got before the stars blurred out into lines all over again.
Chapter Nine
At some point, Kupier would realize how proud he was of the people of Charon for what they did that day at the landing deck. He’d realize that his city’s response time was impeccable, going into full lockdown mode in less than the hour it took the Ray to return home. He would realize that every single able-bodied citizen and Ferryman had assembled at the landing deck, armed and ready to protect their city. He would also realize that every single technology dampener that the city of Moat was currently in possession of had been dragged upstairs to immediately douse the Datapoints if necessary.
Someday, he would reflect on it all. But, that day? He could only hear the hissing of his own breath, and the screaming in his head as he jumped down from the Ray and sprinted back behind his ship to the one-er that they’d dragged in. The windows were still dark, and now they were foggy with icy condensation. The two humans inside had been dragged through freezing space with little air.
Please. Please. Please, Kupier chanted in his head, the words forming on his lips.
His Ferrymen fell into ranks behind him as he skidded up to the edge of the ship and gripped the external door release. He could feel the glare of all the Ferrymen’s pointed weapons at his back, ready and aimed at whatever was about to come out of the one-er. And there was Cast at his side, as well, red-cheeked and wild-eyed. These were his friends in there. And no one knew if they were about to be his enemies. His tech was dampened, of course, but he held a long knife in each hand. “Open it!”
“Mind Glade!” Kupier yelled the order to his men. “The other is expendable if he’s hostile!” With that, Kupier tossed back the air lock and the door hissed open.
Nothing sprang out except the weak hissing of the little oxygen that had remained. There were two still bodies on the single seat. Kupier’s eyes couldn’t help but go first to Glade. There was an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth, the kind they used on the landing pad here. She was obviously unconscious, from the loll of her head, the twist of her legs, but her cheeks had color and her chest rose and fell.
The other, a dark-haired man who was younger than Kupier had pictured him, was twisted up stiffly. His hands were clenched as tight as flower buds and his fingers and lips were blue. His chest didn’t move.
“Oxygen!” Kupier screamed. “Get oxygen and a dampener! They’re of equal importance right now!”
Kupier squeezed his upper body inside the cockpit and pulled Glade out, cradling her like a baby. “Laris!” he hollered. Their medical technician from the Ray appeared on cue and he pushed Glade toward her. “Take her. Take care of her.”
Laris grunted under the girl’s weight as she took Glade’s unconscious body from her captain, but nodded. She and two other medical technicians jogged over to the far side of the landing pad then, where Kupier could see a dampener and some preliminary medical supplies waiting.
Kupier turned then and leaned back into the cockpit. He dragged the stiff weight of the man out next, his back screaming. Kupier didn’t feel any signs of life.
He knew that if the man wasn’t dead, he could do nothing anyway, and he probably would be dead in a matter of minutes. But it had been Kupier’s ultimate decision to deprive the two of oxygen on the way back to Charon. Which meant that the death of this man would be on Kupier’s head. “Oxygen!” he screamed again.
Another med tech appeared with an oxygen mask that was quickly secured over the man’s blue lips. Cast knelt, white-faced, and gripped the man by the feet. “Dampener,” Cast grunted. “If Dahn has his tech activated, we’re all going down.”
So, it was, in fact, Dahn Enceladus.
“Our radars would have sensed it if his tech was activated.”
“Yeah,” Cast laughed humorlessly. “Maybe. But you don’t take a chance with a Datapoint like Dahn.”
They tossed him into the nearest dampener, where Dahn floated weightlessly like he was in a pool of water. But his limbs looked stiff and frozen. Kupier still hadn’t seen his chest rise. A cold ball of ice grew two sizes in Kupier’s gut as he watched Dahn’s stiff body floating.
When the med techs came and pulled Dahn from the dampener, Kupier watched just long enough to make sure that they’d firmly cuffed him to the stretcher before he strode away toward Glade.
I was getting pretty freaking sick of waking up in a medical wing, feeling like I’d been flambéed in one of Io’s volcanoes and having lost days of time. Some people went their whole lives without ever falling unconscious. They had no idea how lucky they were.
I ignored the screaming in my head as I attempted to wiggle my fingers and crack my eyes open. To my relief, my toes wiggled and my heavy eyelids followed my directions. My head was swimming even though I was lying still; I felt as if I were on a badly piloted ship, tilting this way and that.
I knew I was on Charon. The dirt-packed walls were a dead giveaway. And I also knew I wasn’t alone in the room. There were two hands on my ankles.
I groaned as I tried to move to sit up but nausea swept over me. Maybe sitting was a little bit too ambitious for right now.
“She’s up! Treb, wake up! Glade’s awake.”
That was a pretty good clue as to the owners of the hands on my ankles. Soon, without my even having to sit up, I saw two blinking faces come into my line of sight. Through my blurry vision, I could only really make out their clouds of blonde hair and their cheeks, ruddy from sleep, but I could see that Treb had red lines on her forehead from where she’d been pressing into something while she slept.
“Hi,” I tried, but the word didn’t sound like anything more than a scrape from my dry throat.
“Don’t try,” Daw said, her voice sounding so much like our mother’s that a tear leaked out of one of my eyes. “Nurse!”
I drifted away again after the nurse came in and checked me, adjusting the tubes in my wrist and helping me drink some cool water. When I surfaced the next time, the dizziness had mostly subsided, and Daw and Treb were awake.
“Hi,” I said, and this time, it actually sounded like a word. The nausea was almost overwhelming, though, and I was worried I might puke.
“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Treb whispered. “They tried to flush it out of your system with all these fluids, but they said that it was enough to keep you out for days, maybe even a week or so.”
I thought of that dreadful silhouette. The syringe. My brain slowly panned wider, zooming out on the image, and it was then that I really remembered what had happened. Who had held the syringe. Dahn.
“He poisoned me?” The words were slow and slightly slurred, but my brain was operating just fine.
Treb and Daw glanced at one another. “Not poison, really,” Daw answered slowly. “But a sedative. A really strong one. We think it was so that he could get you back across the solar system without a fight.”
I dipped my chin, giving as close to a nod as my nausea would allow right then.
So, he hadn’t come to be with me. To fight alongside me. He’d tried to kidnap me. He hadn’t changed at all. If anything, the gulf between us had widened.
“What happened after I got knocked out?” I asked.
“Kupier went after you,” Daw said in a low voice. “He knew that something was off. I guess Aine was saying that there were only so many explanations
for how Dahn got so far through Charon’s security systems. It tipped Kupier off. He jumped in the Ray, and Aine was already fixing something up in there. And Wells went along.”
Daw and Treb exchanged more eye contact.
“What?”
“Oh,” Treb said, waving her hand through the air. “Nothing, really. Just, Cast and Wells are in a fight right now. Because Wells went along without letting him know what was going on. No big deal, all things considered.”
I looked between them, trying to catch up, piecing it all together. My head swam. “Kupier went after me in the Ray?”
“Caught up just past Pluto,” Kupier’s deep voice sounded from just beyond the doorframe. He leaned into the room, a frown on that plain face of his, fatigue etched into every line of his expression.
My sisters both kind of jumped at his unexpected presence, and matching plumes of pink bloomed over their cheeks.
“We’ll, uh, give you a minute,” Daw decided, and I felt her squeeze the arch of my foot through the blanket. I couldn’t be completely certain, but it seemed that I was at least partially forgiven for my prior indiscretions.
My sisters left the room then, and I couldn’t help but feel their loss like a vacuum. Kupier’s face was growing more and more serious as he stared at me from the doorway. The edges of my vision swam a little more, but I was determined to stay awake, to stay cogent for this.
“Caught up past Pluto, and then what?” I prompted him, letting my head loll to one side, to where I could both rest and keep him in my line of sight at the same time.
He stared at me for what felt like a full minute before something in his expression softened just a touch and he took a few steps into the room. I expected him to stand next to the bed, but he clomped right up beside me, shoving my legs to one side, his big boots leaving sooty marks on the light gray sheets. “And then we powered down the tech on his craft and hauled the both of you in. Without oxygen.”
