Dreamer: Planet Athion Series (Equinox Book 2)

by Lily Harlem

  “I need you to take care of the sleepers,” Gavyn said with a tone that dared Hurin to argue.

  Hurin didn’t.

  “I can do it.” Mateo leaned closer to the screen. “Once I’m on the walkway, it’s just a case of bending down, reaching in, twisting, and—”

  Gavyn rested his hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “You’ll be in here, my friend, keeping this beast steady.”

  Mateo frowned. “You can do that for me.”

  “No, I’ll go and fix it, it’s the only option, and it’s what I’m trained to do.” Gavyn set back his shoulders. “And as captain, it’s my duty to get Equinox fit for docking. I knew the responsibility I was taking on when I took this role.”

  “But—?” Mateo said. “What if—?”

  “No what-if’s and no buts.” Gavyn stepped up to the window. “And the sooner this is done the better. I’ll get straight to it, then we can all relax.”

  As he spoke to James again through his mouthpiece, I stared at his broad back and the way his smart white shirt stretched between his shoulder blades.

  My fear was real and left a bitter taste in my mouth. If anything happened to Gavyn, it wouldn’t just be a captain I lost, it would also be a man I was falling for.

  Falling for.

  That thought hit me like a lightning bolt. Yes. I was falling for Gavyn. Not only was he handsome in that tall, dark and brooding way which had always appealed to me, he was also a man with hidden depth. He was a challenge—one hell of a sexy challenge—and I wanted to take it on.

  But would I get the chance?

  What if something happened to him? What if he lost his anchor and floated into the abyss, became part of space, lost forever? How could I go on? How would any of us go on?

  “Gavyn,” I said, holding in a sob. “I don’t know…I mean, there must be another way. Surely if we just… I mean can’t we—”

  “Hey.” He turned to me. “Didn’t you just offer to do it?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you know it needs to be done, and a space walk is the only way.”

  “Perhaps we could think of something else. Could we decelerate enough with only one jet blaster and—”

  “Not a chance.” Mateo shook his head. “I’m sorry, Uma. I know it’s going to be a tense moment for all of us, but we need to do this.”

  I frowned at him. “Not as tense for us as it will be for Gavyn.”

  “But I know you’ll all be helping me,” Gavyn said.

  “How can we?” Anki gestured to the dark window. “When you’re out there.”

  “There’s plenty you can do,” Gavyn said. “Mateo will keep Equinox balanced, and he’ll need help.”

  “Yes, you can hold the stabilizing lever, Anki, you’ll be good at that, you have a steady hand,” Mateo said then glanced at Gavyn.

  Gavyn raised his eyebrows.

  Anki nodded. “Okay, I will learn fast and I won’t let you down, Captain.”

  “Thank you. And Hurin, I need someone to supervise the pressurization chamber as I get ready, and when I come back in.”

  “On it, Captain.” Hurin nodded.

  “And me?” I asked. “What can I do?”

  Gavyn settled his attention on me, his dark eyes seeming to bore into my mind and my soul. “You,” he said more softly than he’d spoken to the others, “can talk to me.”

  “Talk to you?”

  “Yes.” He tapped a screen that held a graph. The peaks were blue and red, mainly red. “This is where the pressures are monitored. If I get the valve back into place correctly the levels will go up. I’ll be out there until that happens.”

  “So I’m the one who’ll let you know when it’s time to come back in?”

  “Yes, when I’ve got the valve into position properly and the pressure goes back to normal, all of these red bars will turn blue.” He scratched his jaw then fiddled with his earpiece. “That’s exactly what’s going to happen.” He paused, and a flash of determination crossed his eyes. “You hear all that, James?” Gavyn was silent for a moment, then, “Yes, and we’re going to get straight to it.” Another pause. “Thanks, mate, I might need it.”

  I glanced at Mateo whose usually smiling face was deadly serious. Anki had paled a little, and Hurin’s expression was sombre and he was biting on his bottom lip.

  “Hey,” Gavyn said. “I’m not planning on going out there to die. Cheer the fuck up. This is a plan. I’m going to fix the problem.”

  “Permission to stand?” Hurin asked.

  Gavyn nodded.

  Hurin clicked his belt free and rose to his full height. “I’ll go and check the suits and chamber, make sure nothing has changed since the last full inspection.”

  “Thank you.” Gavyn smiled briefly.

  “Anki, come and see how to operate this stabilization lever,” Mateo said. “You’ll soon get the hang of it.”

  Anki also unbuckled and stood. Within seconds he was seated again, and Mateo was sitting close, explaining what he needed to do.

  I pushed the sensations of the strong magnet to the back of my mind. There were more pressing issues. I didn’t ask for permission to unbuckle. “Gavyn.” I stepped up to him. “Are you sure?”

  “Please, Uma.” He turned to me with a frown and cupped my cheek.

  His big palm was warm and soft.

  “Be strong,” he said. “I know you are, when it matters.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “In your heart, you’re a strong person, Uma, and I’m going to need that when I’m out there. That’s why I’ve asked you to be the one talking to me. It’s your voice I want to hear.”

  I hesitated. “Are you scared?”

  “Scared of drifting into the endless void that is our universe?” He chuckled, though it sounded a little strained. “No, of course not. Aren’t we all just made of space dust anyway?”

  “Space dust with a soul.” I rested my hand over his. “And thank you for trusting me with this. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

  “I know.” He smiled, just a quick tilt of his lips, and dropped his hand to his side. “Mateo.” He turned.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “You all set?”

  “I will be in thirty minutes, but it will take you that long to suit up.”

  “Yes, it will.”

  “Good luck.”

  “I don’t need luck, just a good crew.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The monitor beside the pressure screen gave a surprisingly sharp image of Gavyn emerging from the depressurization chamber. It was the first time I’d witnessed such an image for real. Previously it had been on a training console.

  Light from a distant star caught on his stark white suit, giving him a ghostly appearance, and his visor was black—it was impossible to see into it, to see his face, though thankfully he could see out.

  Clutching the grab rail, he moved with slow surety, as if through water, his thick umbilical line stretching behind him. It was secured to the craft through a series of heavily bolted titanium rings with just enough slack to allow him some movement. Though because of the magnet, it didn’t have as much pliancy as it should have. There was a real danger of it becoming rigid and more of a hindrance than a help.

  But he had to have it, it was his safety net.

  I turned up the brightness as he made his way toward the chamber with the problematic valve.

  “How could this have happened?” Anki asked.

  “Any number of things at this speed,” Mateo replied.

  “Like what?” Anki stared at the small round screen in front of him that was covered in numbers and symbols. He’d been instructed to keep the horizontal line dead center, and it appeared that was going to take a lot of concentration.

  “Space junk,” Mateo said. “Something as small as a fleck of paint could have banged into it at just the right angle to cause it to come loose. Or it could have been vibration combined with the extra-high-intensity magnetic field. Perhaps it hadn’t bee
n attached properly in the first place. This is a huge ship; there’s lots that can go wrong.”

  “That’s not comforting,” Anki muttered.

  Mateo reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, mate.”

  I watched the interaction. Mateo had softened toward Anki of late. He’d gone from being barely restrained hostile to normal politeness, and now it seemed they were forming a friendship.

  I was relieved. It was much easier for me if my two boyfriends got along even if it never reached threesome level.

  Despite half listening to their conversation, I kept my attention fixed on Gavyn. He was making slow progress, but nevertheless it was progress.

  “How’s it going?” I asked him.

  “It’s hot.” His voice crackled in my earpiece. “And I hate wearing these things.”

  “You’re doing really well,” I said.

  “And the umbilical is damn heavy. It’s dragging me backward as I move forward.”

  “Perhaps we should lower the magnetic field,” Mateo said.

  “Shall we drop the magnet?” I asked Gavyn.

  “No,” Gavyn said quickly. “It’s helping maintain the small amount of pressure there is in the jet booster.”

  “Oh, okay. Mateo, he said no, it’s maintaining the small amount of pressure we’ve got.”

  “Damn, of course it is.” Mateo rubbed his forehead and frowned as though frustrated with his own suggestion.

  “Another ten minutes and you’ll be at the valve,” I said. “Keep going.”

  “Ten minutes feels like a lifetime out here.”

  “I’m sure it does. Stay with it.”

  “So talk to me.”

  “I am.”

  “About something other than space.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. What was your life like before the landings?”

  “As you know I’m a zoologist. I worked in London zoo, in the small mammal section.”

  “And what did that entail?”

  “Research mainly.”

  “Research into what?”

  “Rare breeds reproduction. How to keep the A-list endangered species from becoming extinct.”

  “Sounds very noble.”

  “I thought so.” I paused. “And what about you?”

  He didn’t answer, and I knew why. He was negotiating around an overhang, a part of Equinox’s starboard side that stuck outward, owing to the huge chamber within. It was clear the heavy cord was hindering his progress.

  I glanced at Mateo. He, too, was studying the screen with the image of Gavyn. It had been well drummed into us this was the most dangerous of ventures. One wrong move, one faulty connection, or lock and that was it. Over. But not over in a nice way. It wouldn’t be over fast. There would be an hour of knowing death was coming, but with no way of saying goodbye to loved ones. To have a final hug or kiss, a last wish. Drifting into the void of space, with only thoughts, regrets, and mind-numbing panic for company.

  I searched the length of the umbilical cord that was in view, as if willing it to stay secure, for no problems to emerge.

  “I’d just been promoted to captain for a major airline.” Gavyn’s voice came through the earpiece.

  “You had? That was great.”

  “Yeah, it was. Thankfully the skills were transferable to new ships like Equinox. With a bit of extra training, of course.”

  I was keen to keep him talking, for myself as much as him. Hearing his voice detracted from the perilous situation he’d put himself in and I was witnessing.

  “So where was your favorite place on Earth, that you flew to before the landings?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  I tapped the earpiece and frowned at the screen.

  “Probably the Himalayas in Nepal,’ he said.

  “Why?”

  “Most dangerous runway in the world.”

  “And you liked that?”

  “Can’t you see I thrive on danger?”

  I watched in horror as he released the grab rail and held both hands in the air. His fingers, fat in the gloves, spread wide.

  “Stop it!” I snapped. “Hold on.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Mateo muttered. “The guy’s a nutcase.”

  Anki gulped, glanced at me, then returned his attention to his task.

  “Hold on, Captain, or you’ll have some damn explaining to do when you get back in here,” I said.

  Gavyn chuckled. “You’re getting all dominant on me now, eh?”

  “When it comes to risking your life, yes.” I slammed my hands onto my hips so hard it stung.

  “How about in other matters?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Again he laughed. “And for the record, that’s not really my thing.”

  “Dominant women?”

  “Strong women, yes, but I like to be in charge.”

  “Would you just concentrate on the task in hand.”

  He was quiet for a moment, then, “I can see it.”

  “You can?”

  “Yes, well, the portal it should be attached to anyway. It will take a few more minutes to get to it with this bloody thing trailing me.”

  “That bloody thing is your lifeline. But even so, keep holding on.”

  He didn’t respond, but as I watched him traverse another ten feet, I was relieved that he held on the way we’d all been trained to.

  “Shit, what’s that?” Mateo peered at the screen then enlarged a section of it.

  “What?” Anki asked.

  “There’s something out there?”

  My heart flipped. Nausea swarmed up my gullet. “What do you mean ‘out there’?”

  Was it Trads?

  “I’m not sure,” Mateo said. There was concern in his tone.

  “You must know,” Anki said. “What is it? Life?”

  “No, not life.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” I said, glancing at the pressure graph. It was of course unchanged.

  “So what?” Anki asked.

  Mateo rested back. “I think it’s some junk or rocks. We’re not far from a belt that’s renowned for throwing bits of rubbish out. All manner of elements.”

  “Well, that’s not good.” Anki frowned. “With Gavyn out there. We should have waited. I knew we should have.”

  “We couldn’t wait,” Mateo said.

  “How near is near?” I asked.

  “At least a light-year away.”

  “Oh, in that case we should be okay.”

  “In theory.” Mateo smiled. It was only brief, but it did give me some reassurance. “Don’t worry, hun. He’s good at his job—no, make that damn good.”

  “Mmm.” I studied the screen. Gavyn had reached the steel portal for the valve. It was about one and a half feet across and at present reminded me of a gaping mouth. “Can you see the valve?” I asked.

  “Hang on.” He released the grab rail with one hand and spun around to face the blackness. “Yes, it’s dangling loose.”

  “Can you grab it?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  I swallowed. My mouth was dry, so was my throat. “Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  “For the love of the Laird,” Anki muttered.

  I wondered how Hurin was coping. He’d be watching on the monitor by the pressurization chamber. Likely his emotions were pinging all over the place the way ours were. Not that he’d show it. His handsome face would be set in its usual stern, no-nonsense expression. Nothing appeared to wrinkle his façade; well, except for me touching him, that was.

  I bit on my bottom lip and concentrated on my task.

  Talking to Gavyn.

  Watching the monitor.

  “Be careful,” I said when he stretched until his fingers grasping the rail were extended so far only the tips were in contact. “It…it’s too far…”

  “It’s not too far. I can…reach…it.”

  I sucked in a breath as he tilted to a full nin
ety degrees, one leg off the ledge, his hand waving through nothingness. Except it wasn’t nothingness. The end of the pipeline, the valve, was floating like a bit of sea kelp wafting in a current. It actually looked happy to be doing so, as if enjoying the freedom despite the peril it had gotten us all into.

  “Gavyn,” I said. “You can’t… Come back in. We’ll get a grabber for you to use. The umbilical is a safety precaution, it’s not to be used for this, and on top of that, the magnet is reducing its reliability. What if—?”

  “No…no…I nearly have it.”

  “But it’s too far. You’re going to…”

  “Damn it, Uma, I need your encouragement not negativity.” He pulled in, adjusted his stance, then leaned back out. “Bring on the positive vibes.”

  “Yes. You’ve got them,” I said, steeling myself. “But only if it’s a possible task.”

  “Of course it’s possible.”

  Be positive.

  He was so close to it, his gloved hand swiping only an inch away.

  Suddenly there was a jolt. I gripped the console and adjusted my balance. “What the…?”

  Equinox titled, then juddered.

  My heart rate rocketed. “Gavyn!”

  “Got it.”

  Relief washed through me. The lurch had given him that extra bit of reach, or sent the pipe closer, one of the two. Now he was holding it and the grab bar.

  “Thank goodness for that,” Mateo muttered.

  “That wasn’t me, I promise,” Anki said quickly. “I kept the lines together, I promise. Like you told me to, Mateo.”

  “I know you did. And keep doing that, you’re doing a great job.”

  Anki nodded and kept his attention on his screen.

  “Are you okay, Gavyn?” I asked.

  “Yes, don’t know what just flew past. It was going too fast to see, but it made this bad boy come close enough for me to reach.”

  “Which is great. But let’s get this job done so you can come back on board,” I said. “We’re too near a belt of junk or rocks or something for comfort.”

  “Good plan.” He turned with the valve in his hand. It was an awkward angle, and he had to stoop and twist. His umbilical cord was stretched taut, and the light from a nearby star had to be nearly blinding him.