by David Estes
The inside of the limo was a blur of bodies and debris; anything that wasn’t bolted down had been strewn around the cabin by Miranda’s Class 5 tornado spell.
Vee lay on her back, trying to shout a warning about the incoming missile while simultaneously trying to process the fact that an Alliance chaser had fired it, but she didn’t have the energy to form a single syllable. She felt cold and achy, like she’d caught a bad space flu.
The hoverlimo, however, was apparently still intact, its computerized voice scraping from the speakers. “Incoming!” it said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Minnow muttered. “Vee? You all right?”
Finally, she found her voice. “Rocket. Alliance.” She closed her eyes as they were hit, the impact like meteors colliding in midair. Wind blasted her side and she managed to crack her eyes open in time to see three of the soldiers sucked through a ragged gash at the rear of the vehicle, their screams fading away as they vanished.
Minnow had one hand clamped tightly on an armrest and the other around her arm, holding her in place. On her opposite side, Terry was doing the same. The rest of the soldiers were in various positions, doing their best not to meet the same fate as their comrades. Miranda had been lucky: She was nestled in the crook between the limo’s bar and the wall, her arms flailing loosely over her head. A trickle of blood meandered its way from her forehead to her chin.
“Prepare for imminent emergency landing,” the limo said.
“Oh, shut up,” Minnow said through gritted teeth.
The onboard A.I. ignored him. “Please ensure safety straps are properly positioned and locked. Place your head between your knees and position your arms over—”
The voice disappeared as Terry threw a well-aimed glass bottle at the speaker, crumpling it like a tin can.
“Nice shot,” Minnow said as he eased his large frame across Vee.
“Don’t,” she tried to say, but her words were lost amidst a raucous crash. The vehicle shuddered, bouncing twice before settling into an even path, metal scraping across asphalt. Through the gash in the rear, Vee saw sparks and other vehicles and people and then—
They skidded to a stop, smoke roiling up through cracks that had formed in the floor. The side door sprung open and a face peered inside. Captain Tucker, wearing a grim smile. “We’ve got to move,” he said.
Vee groaned.
~~~
Minnow carried Vee while Captain Tucker and Terry managed to extricate Miranda from her nook behind the bar. Most of their luggage had been badly damaged during the chase, but anything not incinerated was grabbed and carried as well.
They hustled across the launch field, which is where they had apparently crash-landed. Fortuitous, Vee thought. Parked beside the transport pod they’d arrived in was a much larger starship, just as Miranda had promised. “Need…pilot,” Vee croaked.
“There’s one inside. With compliments,” the captain said. “The starship is fitted with multiple tracking devices. If you try to remove any of them, the contract—”
“Will be null and void,” she said, feeling a burst of heat in her chest. “I can walk,” she said to Minnow, as surprised by the truth of her words as he seemed to be.
“That spell…” he said.
She shook her head and he got the message: it wasn’t the time or the place to discuss whatever was happening to her. All she knew was that she should be completely drained and in need of about two days of sleep. Instead, she felt…okay? Was that the right word?
“Where’s your fourth crew member?” Captain Tucker asked, glancing between Terry and Vee.
Vee spotted Magic McGee just beyond the fence line in his usual spot. Beyond him there were three distinct ropes of smoke curling into the sky, twisting and twining together. The wreckage of the three hoverchasers. Alliance vehicles. What have you done, Miranda? Vee thought. Just as quickly, she banished the question to be inspected later, her eyes narrowing on Magic McGee. He was brandishing a metal spoke from an old-fashioned bike tire and slashing it back and forth like a space knight surrounded by alien foes on some distant planet. The spoke turned bright white, shimmering as he hacked through a plastic crate. The metal rod shattered on impact, unable to process the aura the way a real mag-blade was designed to.
For once, no one was watching him, their gazes flitting between the crashed hoverlimo and the trio of destroyed chasers. The wail of sirens filled the air.
And Vee made a decision.
“That guy,” she said, almost on a whim. In truth, she’d been considering McGee since she first saw the grizzled old man she remembered from her childhood. He might be somewhat of a loose cannon, but there was no denying his abilities as a mage. Plus, her mother had always said positive things about the man, even when everyone else considered him nothing more than a sideshow act.
Also, she knew it would piss off Miranda when she found out—a real bonus.
The real reason hammered through her brain. Why did her mother give him her medal of valor? She’d had plenty of time since her mother’s death to ask him about it, but she knew avoiding the question had been a way of coping, of protecting herself from reality. She couldn’t hide anymore. If this man had the answer trapped deep inside his shattered mind, she needed to draw it out. Or at least try.
Captain Tucker was squinting in McGee’s direction, probably trying to determine who she meant. “Yes, him,” she said. “The homeless guy throwing Class 4 spells around like child’s play. Get him on the starship immediately. My contract says I get to pick my crew, and I pick him.”
She could see the wheels turning in Captain Tucker’s head. He glanced at Miranda’s unconscious form, probably trying to guess how much Hole he would take from her when she woke up and discovered the identity of the fourth crew member. A lot.
Then he shrugged and barked an order at two of the soldiers, who trotted off and hopped the fence. McGee stopped his performance and glanced toward where Vee stood, watching the scene unfold. Without a struggle or even a word of argument, he clambered over the fence and across the launch field.
Vee turned her back on him and boarded the starship.
~~~
The starship looked brand new. The decks were so clean they shimmered under the fluorescent lighting. The tritonium walls were unmarked and spotless. A long hallway stretched in either direction, one toward the tail and one toward the control room. Vee turned back and said, “What comm frequency are you on?” to Captain Tucker. The man was still carrying Miranda’s motionless body, watching from the base of the gangway. Magic McGee walked slowly up the incline and past her without a word.
The wail of sirens grew louder, piercing. Beyond the fence line, Vee could see bright lights flashing orange and green as the peacekeepers and first responders whipped around the corner from the main road.
“The pilot has the information,” Captain Tucker said.
“Right. Thank you. We’ll be in touch.” She jammed a hand down on a button near the gate and the gangway refolded itself against the side, sealing them in.
“Nice ride,” Terry noted, changing color to match the gleaming silver walls. “Mind if I take her for a spin?”
Minnow glanced at McGee and said, “You sure about this?”
“Do I have a choice?” Vee asked, watching McGee amble down the long corridor, tapping his knuckles on the wall every so often, as if searching for weak spots.
Minnow shrugged. He had never been a very hard sell. “Let’s go,” he said, and followed Terry and McGee toward the right, taking long loping strides.
Once more, Vee pushed aside thoughts of the Alliance emblem she’d spotted on the hoverchasers she’d destroyed. She took off after her friends.
On the left side of the corridor were various offshoots that presumably led to other important parts of the massive ship. She could explore later, but right now getting off the Arch was the priority. All around her, she heard the whir and thrum of the giant engines as they came to life. In the corner of her eye was a number: 151,9
99.
She’d already noticed it, immediately after their crash-landing on the launch field, but now she inspected the subtle gray lines of the counter, relishing everything they stood for, everything they meant. Between the contract she’d signed with the Alliance and her sudden boost in MAG/EXP points, her future suddenly had a different look and feel to it. What was once as distant as the faintest of stars was now burning as brightly as a godstar.
I am halfway to Class 4.
She blinked away the thought as Minnow disappeared through a broad portal. The question that she’d been batting around in her mind returned: Why were Alliance vehicles trying to shoot down their own mage? Whatever the answer, it didn’t bode well for the contract she’d signed, which was likely worth less than the paper screen it had been displayed on.
Inside the control room were banks of equipment bristling with instrumentation and flashing with a variety of blue and green lights. Most of it was for emergencies only, as the starship could be piloted from a single command module in the center of the space. Above the panels were glass walls that curved into a domed glass ceiling through which the darkening sky could be seen.
“Where’s the pilot?” Vee asked, noticing both Terry and Minnow had stopped and were staring in the direction of the command module. Its bright green ropes were moving, seemingly of their own accord. McGee was sitting on the floor, staring directly up.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Terry muttered, a hint of amusement in his tone. “That’s our pilot?”
“I am not a ‘that,’ good sir,” a voice said from somewhere near the floor. The whir and thrum of the ship grew louder. “And may I suggest you all take your seats else you be mashed into paste upon takeoff.”
Vee squinted, finally spotting the creature. Of all things, a cat stood on its hindlegs, its claws batting at the ropes playfully, like they were pieces of string hanging down for its own amusement. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“Why am I not surprised?” the cat said with a sigh. “Let me spell it out for you. I was a human, now I’m not. The rest are just details. But even as a cat I’m a damn good pilot and if you don’t strap yourselves in within the next thirty seconds, your bones will be crushed and your organs turned into projectiles.”
Verity said, “We should listen to him,” and made for a row of seats planted just behind the control module. The others followed her, even McGee. He sat beside her, his hands clamping around the armrests. As soon as the four were seated, padded straps curled from the backs of the chairs and folded around them, locking in place.
“Automated,” Terry said. “State of the art.”
“We’ve got company,” Minnow said, pointing to the right. Through the glass, Vee could see half a dozen Alliance hoverchasers zip over the fence line. Rockets burst from their turrets. Not again.
“If you haven’t guessed already, our ship was stolen from an Alliance factory,” the cat noted, pirouetting nimbly as it twisted the two ropes together and pulled them hard, its claws flicking out. Vee’s head was thrust back against the headrest as the starship shot forward down the short runway, leaving the rockets behind.
Ping ping ping! Somewhere behind them, bullets rattled off the ship, but it was like shooting peas at a tritonium wall.
The ground fell away beneath them and Vee felt that beautiful moment of weightlessness she’d always enjoyed on training flights back at the Academy. The moment passed as the cat piloted the ship into a vertical shot straight up, shuddering as they slashed through a thick cloudbank. And then there was sky and beyond…space. Vee felt the transition, her feet beginning to rise from the floor before the artificial grav systems kicked on. Her heels pressed back against the floor as the dark vacuum of space enveloped them in its infinite arms.
“Where to, boss?” the cat said.
The straps automatically disengaged. Terry was the first out of his seat, changing color as he darted around the room, inspecting the equipment. “Sixteen engines…runs on thermal power, yeah? Electrical systems are solar with three sets of backup generators. Can I see the engine room?”
Vee realized the question was for her. “Yes?” Terry took off excitedly.
Minnow shoved to his feet and offered Vee a hand up, which she accepted. “You all right?” he asked. “You used a ton of aura back there.”
“Magic,” McGee said, once more slipping from his chair to sit on the floor.
Vee ignored him, turning toward Minnow. Her aura reserves were low—almost empty—but she felt fine. “I’m good. You?”
“I’m…I could use a sip. Maybe two.”
“Aura?” the cat asked. “Are you a mage too? I was told there would only be one. One too many if you ask me.”
Vee still didn’t know what to make of their furry pilot. “No. Minnow is just…” How to put it delicately…
“An addict? I can tell. He’s got the shakes.”
Vee glanced back at her friend, surprised she hadn’t noticed. Sure enough, his hands were quivering slightly, as if he was cold. “I didn’t want to make a big deal of it,” he said.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Uh…cat?”
“Frank Stallone, at your service,” the cat said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. The ship’s A.I. is called Al.”
“Frank? Al?” Vee said, incredulous.
“Did she get hit in the head or something?” Frank asked Minnow.
“Only once. Or maybe twice.”
“Hilarious,” Vee said. “Fine. Al, can you hear me?”
Aye aye, captain! a boisterous voice said through the ship’s PA system.
The cat released what sounded like a laugh, but which quickly morphed into a cough. The ship began to drift off course as the feline was forced to release the control ropes as he doubled over, gagging. He spat, and a wet glob shot out, slapping onto the floor. “Ugh. Hairball,” the cat said. “Sorry about that. I programmed the voice to be that of a pirate. You know, from those classic holovids on channel three thousand eight hundred and seventy-two? Gets me every time.” The cat—Frank—once more in control of the starship, glanced from Vee to Minnow and back again. “No? Fine. I’ll educate you later.”
“Al, do we have a supply of aura onboard.”
“Magic,” McGee said again, still staring through the glass-domed ceiling.
Fully stocked, captain, the A.I. returned.
“Good. Please mix ten mils of water with one mil of magic. For my friend. Minnow.”
Minnow frowned. “You should have some too. You’ll crash.”
“I’ve already done that today,” Vee said with a wry smile.
Frank Stallone released a loud rawr and slapped a paw against its—his—leg. “Bad pun. So bad. My favorite kind.”
A service bot scuttled out from a panel that opened in the wall, its mechanical pincers clamped on a thin vial of the requested concoction. Minnow took it, unscrewed the cap and swallowed it with a single swig. He took a deep breath and his hands stopped shaking.
“You good?” Vee asked.
He nodded. His face, which had paled somewhat, began to darken once more. “What now?”
“I need coordinates,” the cat said. “Unless you’d rather orbit Archimedes.”
The Alliance is chasing us. “No,” Vee said. “We make for Godstar IV. I assume this ship has a hyperdrive?”
“Of course. Like I said, state of the art. We are fully powered and ready to jump. But you should—”
“Strap in, I know. A.I., please—”
“He prefers to be called Al,” Frank chimed in.
Vee didn’t have time to argue. “Al, please recall Terry to the control module.”
Aye, aye, Captain!
“Frank, get me Captain Tucker on the comm.”
“Kinda busy,” the cat said, hopping over one rope as he pulled the other taut. “Ask Al. He’s most helpful.”
Duh. Vee felt like she was play-acting a scene from a bad holoshow. She was no starship captain. Black Hole, she wasn’
t even a graduate mage. Everything that had happened to her thus far felt like a great big cosmic Ha-ha!
Minnow took one of her hands, his strong fingers warm through her skin. “Hey. We’re in this together. You know that, right?”
“I—of course. I know. Thank you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“What about me?” Terry said, reentering the control room. “I was the one that saved our behinds from certain destruction back on Archimedes. Want a recap? First, I hacked into the hoverlimo’s controls, and then—”
“Save the play by play for later,” Vee said, regaining her composure. This was real. Whatever was happening, she had to find Dacre. She could sort out the rest later. And, as she’d earlier surmised, if Dacre was anywhere in the Godstar Galaxy, he’d be in Godstar IV. “Strap in. Al, do we have comms for Captain Tucker?”
Captain Tucker is offline at present. Miranda Petros requests an open line. Shall I connect?
Even better, Vee thought. She’s awake. “Yes. Connect.”
Miranda’s voice came through the PA. “Are you mad? You brought that shattered mind of a mage with you?”
“His name’s Magic McGee,” Vee said.
“Magic,” McGee agreed, raising his eyebrows.
“And you are in no position to talk,” Vee went on, anger rising, pushing what was left of her aura reserves through her bloodstream. “Care to share the truth with the group? Why would the Alliance be chasing us? You are the Alliance, right? Or am I mistaken? Because if the Alliance is chasing itself, then the entire galaxy has gone mad.”
Silence over the comms.
“That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, I took care of it. But now it’s truth time. That contract we signed? Not worth the drive it’s stored on. You can’t get me back into the Academy, can you?”
“No.” The response was unapologetic. “But listen, we still need to find Dacre, otherwise—”
“No, you listen,” Vee said. “This…whatever you want to call it…is over. Thanks for the free starship. Because I’m feeling generous, I’ll call it even. Al, sever the connection.”
“Verity, don’t do this. We can work this out. I swear I’ll—”
