by Kate MacLeod
“Come now, Emilie, you know that’s not what I meant,” Mai said with the air of a schoolteacher reproaching a student. “You have such skills. Those skills are pointless if you don’t put them to some use, aren’t they?”
Emilie shrugged.
“To your point,” Mai said, uncrossing and then recrossing her legs and shifting to lean on the opposite arm of her chair. “We do know you’re waiting here to be picked up by a third party who is attempting to meddle in our legal affairs. Not just the legal affairs of Jun and I, you understand, but of the entire Tajaki trade dynasty. I have no reason to believe you know exactly what that means, except that you strike me as someone who knows all sorts of things she should have no way of knowing.”
“I get that your family is super powerful,” Emilie said.
Mai smiled brightly. “Yes, we are. And we don’t tolerate meddlers. And these meddlers have no power at all. Not a bit. Not even, shall we say, a smidge. They’ve been caught up on the other side of the tribunal enforcers’ barricade. They are never going to get past it, I’m afraid. They can keep trying to file motions, but really they are as the buzzing of a gnat to our army of lawyers.” Then she paused, her smile wavering. “I’m sorry, I quite forgot that you grew up in space. A gnat is—”
“I know what a gnat is,” Emilie said.
“Of course,” Mai said, summoning up that smile once more. “So I hope you can see that we’re really here to rescue you. I’m sure you realize the people who instigated the violence back at your home are still looking for you. It’s only a matter of time before they find you. Clever as you are.”
“And the people who instigated the violence are . . . ?” Emilie prompted.
“Really, it would be far more comfortable to tell this long, tragic story over a meal,” Mai said. “You will be our guests.”
“Guests,” Emilie repeated dubiously.
“Of course,” Mai said. “I’m not offended that you don’t trust us. Trust has to be earned. I promise you we will earn it. But for now, know that we are here on this side of the barricade with the blessing of the tribunal enforcers and that a ménage of them are with us now. They will always be there when the two of us and the three of you are in the same room, to observe. We cannot coerce you; they will not allow it. I do hope we can persuade you to help us, however.”
She smiled again, but Scout felt an icy chill run up her spine. Three of you, she had said. Did that mean Emilie, Geeta, and Seeta? Or did it mean Emilie, Geeta, and Scout?
“I need to talk to Geeta about it first,” Scout said.
“Of course,” Mai said brightly. “She is on the marshal’s ship, and she’s heard this entire conversation from there. You go to her and talk it over, and when you’re ready, just float out of the dock and we will pick you up. The ship will stay in our hangar until you require it again. I promise you”—she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and hands clasped together—“promise you that you will be free to leave any time you wish.”
Emilie just nodded and then turned her back on the screen. The image of the sisters winked out, replaced by the previous image of the computer-labeled fleet of ships. For a moment they were still all but invisible against the black, but in the blink of an eye, they all turned on their exterior lights. Many were so small and so far away they were just dots, barely brighter than the stars behind them, but others were larger and closer. But none of them could catch Scout’s attention once her eyes fell on the central ship of the fleet.
It was massive, larger than the space station they were standing in. It gleamed like chrome, just as Liam’s ship did, but where his ship was fine as a needle, this was hulking, like a bird of prey with a thick central body flanked by two immense arms that thrust forward. It was like that ship was reaching for them, ready to tear the station apart to get at them.
Scout didn’t realize she had gasped out loud until Emilie stopped in the doorway to look back, first at Scout and then at the screen. But she seemed unmoved.
“Come on,” she said, and Scout summoned the dogs to follow her as she ran to catch up with Emilie. They didn’t speak as they jogged back through the empty marketplace and across the hangar to where Liam’s ship was docked.
Geeta was waiting for them just inside the door of Liam’s ship. Her face was grim.
“The people who started the fighting must be the other half of the Tajaki dynasty,” she said.
“I was thinking the same,” Emilie agreed.
“They seem more on our side than the others,” Scout said. She was picturing the woman dressed all in black, the woman who had more advanced body modifications even than Liam, the woman who had flung Seeta out of the station hangar and into the vacuum of space. Liam had caught her body, but it was still to be seen whether Seeta could be revived from the stasis he had put her in or if they were too late.
A look of pain and sorrow tightened Geeta’s features, and Scout knew she was picturing the same woman. Going with the Months might be a way to strike back at that woman, somehow.
But, apparently, Geeta had come to a different conclusion. “The lesser of two evils is still evil,” she said.
Emilie nodded and slipped into the pilot’s chair. “The ship and I have come up with a few options. I don’t have time to explain, but . . .”
She didn’t need to. Geeta grabbed Gert, and Scout scooped up Shadow, and they tucked the dogs back inside their little cupboard. By the time they had strapped themselves in, Emilie had closed the ship’s door and unmoored them from the dock.
And once more they found themselves pushing forward into impenetrable darkness.
8
Emilie didn’t turn them around to go back the way they had entered from, just let the ship drift out to the center of the open space within the station. Scout figured, as this station was a section of the Tajaki 47 hull just like Amatheon Orbiter 1 only smaller, they could exit from either end.
But the station was surrounded. The Months were probably on that immense flagship waiting for them on the side facing the moon, but other ships would be watching for them if they emerged from the other end, wouldn’t they?
“How are we going to sneak past?” Geeta asked.
“We’re not going to,” Emilie said and flashed them both that maniacal grin before sliding the accelerator lever as far forward as it would go.
Scout lost her hold on the seats and fell back, stretching the tension band that was her tether to the max. She grasped it with her hands to reel herself back in and tried not to panic at how hot the rubbery plastic was under her palms. If it snapped, she’d hit the back wall of the ship and likely break every bone in her body.
Geeta was pressed flat back against her seat but still managed to turn her body and extend an arm to Scout. Scout took it and crawled just a bit closer, then felt Geeta’s other hand on her back, guiding her to sit on the floor between Geeta’s legs. That did seem the safest option, although by the time Scout had battled the continuing acceleration to reach that safety she was drenched in sweat, her arms and legs shaking from the effort.
And she couldn’t see what was going on.
“Hold on,” Emilie said from between gritted teeth, and Geeta grasped both of Scout’s shoulders as Emilie pounded at something on the console.
It was like the ship had hit a wall, and only Geeta’s firm hold on Scout’s shoulders kept her from knocking herself out against the console in front of her. That stopped their forward momentum, but it was instantly replaced by a sideways acceleration. Scout flailed about, trying to find a handhold before she started tumbling away. Geeta thrust a foot against the console, making a barrier of her leg that kept Scout in place.
Scout was instantly very, very happy that Geeta had been dealing with her grief by exercising. Those muscles were all that stood between her, with her still-trembling limbs, and a nasty head wound.
“That took them by surprise,” Emilie said.
“They’ll pursue,” Geeta said. “This ship is fast, but they likel
y have faster. A lot of their ships look light, built for speed.”
“Maybe,” Emilie said, “but those same fast ships likely aren’t built for atmosphere.”
“Atmosphere?” Scout said, suddenly desperate to see where Emilie was taking them. She clamored up from the floor and Geeta helped her sit on the edge of the seat in front of her, finally able to see out of the windscreen. Geeta’s arms tightened around her middle in case Emilie decided to change their velocity again in a hurry.
“Atmosphere,” Emilie said with a grin at the same moment the ship began to rattle around them.
“This didn’t happen when we took off,” Scout said, shouting over the building noise. “Are you sure you’re doing this right?”
“The ship says we’re within tolerances,” Emilie said. Wisps were starting to streak past the windscreen, so faint against the star field beyond they almost seemed imaginary, but the bucking ship beneath them swore they were real.
“Emilie?” Geeta said. Not panicked, just prompting her for more information.
“We have to push it hard. We have to lose as much of our tail as we can. The ship can take it,” Emilie said, each word popping out as a separate declaration as the majority of her mind focused on flying.
“Where are we going?” Scout asked.
“You think. In a minute. I have to . . . hold on,” she said, pounding something else on the console. The ship rolled, and they were falling upside down, then spiraling around sickeningly until they were diving headfirst.
Scout heard her dogs whimper and knew that last maneuver had at least bruised them, if not worse. Geeta, who had all but screamed with the effort to hold onto Scout when they were upside down, now fought to breathe as all of Scout’s weight pressed back against her, but there was nothing Scout could do—because they were still accelerating at a rate that had her pinned down on top of Geeta with a force several times normal gravity, and because the sight of the planet’s surface rushing up to meet them, growing ever larger and more detailed through the windscreen, had paralyzed her with fear.
“Hold. On.” For a moment Scout feared the acceleration was too much for Emilie, that she wouldn’t be able to raise her arms even the short distance she needed to in order to reach the console.
But Emilie’s groan of effort morphed into a yell of triumph, and she pulled the ship out of its death dive.
And then they were gliding smoothly along through a blue sky dotted with little puffs of clouds.
“Lost them, I think,” Emilie said. “Give it a minute.”
“We can’t do that again,” Geeta said.
Scout slid to the front of the seat, then got up to lean forward, peering through the very bottom edge of the windscreen.
“No, we can’t,” Emilie agreed. “Not enough altitude now.”
“I don’t know where we are,” Scout said. The Amatheon she had known had been red-gold prairies of grain, hills sparsely covered by gray-green vegetation, barren mountains, and the occasional brightly colored canyon. What was below her was an expanse of blue waves ending in a whitish-gray beach, then darker gray cliffs of bare rock, then an endless forest of shady green trees.
“Don’t worry about it,” Emilie said. “The ship logged where Liam picked you up. We can go back there, or anywhere near there you think is safe.”
“The rebels are near there,” Scout said.
“I thought you said they were bad news,” Geeta said.
“Yeah,” Scout said. “But that was because they were being manipulated by these sisters, the Months. If we told them all we know, I suspect we’d have some allies.”
“Allies with more power than we have right now,” Geeta said.
“We could use allies like those,” Emilie said. “I’m going to circle in that direction, though, not fly straight there. If the Months are manipulating the rebels, they must know where they are. We might have to land further out and sneak in.”
“There are a few villages close by,” Scout said. “We could get supplies. Everything in this ship is worth a fortune down there.”
“Good to have options,” Emilie said, then yawned widely. She grinned at the other two. “That was exhausting.”
“We’re not done yet,” Geeta said, looking worried.
“No, I’m good,” Emilie said. “I’m going to circle back and check our tail. Delicately this time, I think.”
The ship traced a spiral, dropping lower as it banked around until they were facing the direction they had come. Scout’s eyes were up searching the skies for signs of pursuers, although she knew the ship was certain to detect more than she could see with her naked eyes.
The sky was a breathtaking shade of indigo. Over the prairie, the sky was usually a more washed-out shade of blue, as if someone had mixed the clouds and sky together into one uniform grayish blue. But she had seen a sky like this before: the day she had left her family, never to see them again.
“Stars,” Geeta gasped, and Scout looked to see what had caught her attention. She wasn’t looking up at the sky, wasn’t looking for pursuers at all. She was looking down at the waves of water below them. The ship was low enough now for them to see the whitecaps as the waves curled before rushing up to the shore. “It’s more than I ever imagined. And to think you grew up here.”
“I only saw the ocean one time, and it was from shore,” Scout said. “Still, it’s mind-blowing, isn’t it? All that water. It makes you wonder what all is hidden beneath it.”
“We’re going to cross it now,” Emilie said. “Liam picked you up on the other side of the planet.”
“How long?” Scout asked.
“To get there? Maybe an hour. I want to go slow, keep scanning for trouble. Plus, I’m starving.”
“I’ll get you something,” Scout said, heading to the back of the ship. She came back with a couple of protein bars for Emilie, nothing that would be messy if she had to drop it in a hurry. Then she went back to check on her dogs.
They both had their noses pressed through the open mesh of the tape enclosure. Scout put her hand on each nose so they could smell her and know she was okay. She didn’t want to let them out in case Emilie had to start making evasive maneuvers again, but she did risk detaching one corner to reach inside and scratch around their ears.
“You guys okay?” she asked.
Gert made no sound, just turned to push her nose into the scruff of Shadow’s neck. Shadow whimpered.
“Are they okay?” Emilie asked, turning in her seat to look back at Scout with a look of deep worry.
“I think so,” Scout said, running her hands over Shadow’s little body. “Nothing broken. Maybe a little battered though.”
“We can take a better look after we land,” Geeta promised. “We still have the med kit if we need it.”
Scout longed to take Shadow out of the cabinet and hold him on her lap. Gert liked being near her, but Shadow had a deep, visceral need to be touching her, and she was sure that, hurt as he was, he was feeling that need more powerfully than ever.
But it wouldn’t be safe.
“Gert, take care of our boy for me, okay?” Scout said.
Gert nosed Scout’s hand, then bent to gently nip at Shadow’s ears. Shadow sighed but accepted her attention as a weak substitute for Scout’s.
The first sign that they were reaching the end of the ocean was the bright gleam of a dome magnifying the setting sun behind it. The capital city. Scout had only been there a few times. It overlooked the ocean, but she had always been on the land side of the city, except for the one time she had gone down to the shore just to see the water.
Beyond the capital were kilometers of green fields, some sort of low, leafy plants Scout couldn’t identify. But soon enough the lush soil gave way to the sparser, drier ground of the prairie and the squares of green became an endless expanse of red-gold, the heavy heads of grain dancing and bowing in the breeze.
Home. It felt strange to be back. She had never intended to come back, certainly not so soon. At
least she had friends with her this time.
“No need to go back to the pickup spot,” Scout said. “It’s pretty remote.”
“Gotcha,” Emilie said and called up a map onto the console screen. “Where?”
Scout leaned in to study the map. “There, that band of color. That’s the canyon where the rebels are hiding.”
“Wow,” Geeta said. “Such colors.”
“It’s even more impressive up close,” Scout said. “You’ll see.”
“I will,” Geeta said as if just realizing that was true. She broke into a genuine smile, and Scout caught her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“No sign of pursuit,” Emilie said. “I’ll circle around one more time, and then we’ll land there, at the mouth of the canyon.”
The ship made another lazy spiral, this one in a large but complete circle. When they were once more facing west, they were even closer to the ground than before, so close Scout felt like if she opened the door and leaned out, she could touch the tops of the stalks of grain.
She was going to have to find a way to speak to Joelle first. Joelle understood about her father and would be the most receptive to what Scout had to tell her about how he had been manipulated. Her brother Reggie would listen too, but since he was only twelve and seldom allowed to leave the hideout, she was unlikely to encounter him first.
It might be one of the mechanics—motormouth Ken or laconic Bente—out on patrol on their motorcycles. They often worked as a team. She might have to talk a bit faster with those two, but in the end, they would at least let her make her case to Joelle or Bente’s uncle Arvid. With Malcolm laid up, Arvid would be the one calling the shots.
Scout had no sense of Arvid. Her experience with him was too limited. But with the others to speak on her behalf, and with what she had to tell, she could surely get him to listen. He had been far more stable than Malcolm.
That left only Tucker.
She didn’t want to think about Tucker.
Ironically, he would probably be the easiest of the rebels to win over. He would do anything for her, or so he said. But he had said that before, and then he had betrayed her. Saying it again now and swearing anything was worth it if she gave him one more chance didn’t make it any more believable to Scout.
