Sanctuary

by Caryn Lix

  I breathed a sigh of relief. We should be safe for the time being. This was a sealed room in case of some sort of airlock disaster; the only way in was through the doors.

  Just like the shuttle bay. But I shook that thought aside. However the aliens got in there, it couldn’t have been quiet. We should at least have advance warning if they decided to make an appearance.

  Cage sagged in relief. “I hate this,” he growled as the door slid shut, closing us in. “I hate not knowing where they are. I hate that they could drop on Rune at any second. I hate that I can’t protect her—that I can’t protect anyone.”

  “I know.” I holstered the gun and opened a locker, then pulled down a helmet and pressed it into his hands. “So let’s see if there’s a way to stop them on their own ship.”

  He nodded, placed the helmet aside, and reached into the locker for the larger of the two suits. I watched the muscles in his arm tense, every tendon standing out in sharp relief, and I realized this might be the last time I saw him outside an XE suit. At any second, an alien might burst through that door and eat me alive. If we made it off the station and by some miracle actually got onto the ship, we would probably be killed before we came up with a way to destroy it. If I wanted to take a chance, I’d better do it now.

  So I kissed him.

  I snagged his arm, turned him to face me, and leaned in, catching his lips with my own. For a moment he stayed frozen against me, his entire body rigid. Then he took my shoulders and, very gently, pushed me away.

  I recoiled, my face flaming. “Sorry,” I muttered. “We’d better get moving.”

  “Kenzie, wait.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, frantic to forestall any explanation. I fumbled in a locker for the other XE suit and yanked it free of its moorings. It tangled on a hook, and I yanked at it until it wrenched free and clattered to the floor. Swearing, I dropped to my knees and hauled it the rest of the way out of the locker. Anything to keep my hands busy. “We won’t even mention it. Let’s just . . .”

  “Kenzie, wait.” He pulled me to my feet and spun me to face him. I stared at his chest. Dad’s T-shirt was a little too small on him. “I didn’t mean . . .” He ground his teeth in frustration. “Look, I’d have to be stupid not to be attracted to you. You get that, right?”

  “Right,” I said, anger surging in my chest. It gave me the courage to meet his eyes. “Because that’s how boys usually respond to girls they’re attracted to.”

  “It is if they’re not sure the girl’s really into them.”

  I gaped at him, and only barely managed to avoid shouting. “Cage, I kissed you. That’s a pretty clear indication where I come from. Not sure how it works in prison. Should I have punched you in the face or something?”

  The corners of his lips quirked. “Sounds more like Mia’s style than yours. No, it’s not that. It’s only . . . We barely know each other. I took you hostage and then we all got tossed into this stupid survival situation. Add in finding out about the chip in your arm, and . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  His eyes shot wide open. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” I shook my head, relaxing in his grip. “I’m a big girl, Cage. I’m responsible for my own decisions. You’re right, it’s been a rough night—for both of us. It doesn’t mean I don’t know how I feel. I might not be an underground street criminal, but I’m not some naive little girl who’s going to fall for the first bad boy who crosses her path. So if you’re rejecting me out of some misplaced macho protective impulse, you can shove it. I know what I want. If you don’t want it, well, that’s another story. But don’t stand there patronizing me like I’m some sort of princess who needs you to take care of her.”

  The last words had barely left my mouth before he shoved me against the wall, his mouth crashing down on mine. I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer, and his arms encircled me. One hand tangled in my hair; the other snaked around the small of my back, hauling me more tightly against him.

  The kiss was fire and lightning arcing through me, my skin burning and singed wherever he touched. I tugged at his shoulders, desperate to erase any distance between us, and he responded with a growl, pressing me more tightly against the wall. I gasped for air, turning my head aside. His lips fell to my neck, my shoulder, overwhelming my common sense.

  I’d kissed plenty of boys—starting with another trainee the summer I was thirteen, and most recently my boyfriend on Earth, who I’d broken up with when we moved to Sanctuary. None of those kisses compared to this. They had been halting, nervous things, pleasant in their way but lacking the spark I’d been promised.

  Kissing Cage struck a match to a fire waiting in my soul. I clamped my hands in his hair and pulled. He obliged, pressing his mouth to mine.

  I didn’t know how long it was before we finally broke apart, our breath mingling in short, frantic gasps. He tipped his head against mine, searching my eyes, his hand still tangled in my hair, an arm around my waist. I clung to his shoulders. We kept each other upright, afloat.

  “I . . .” I licked my lips anxiously. “I guess that answers any question about who’s attracted to who, huh?”

  Cage laughed, the rumble making his chest vibrate against mine. “You are unbelievable.”

  “Am I? Why?”

  “Well, for one, you’re kissing me with aliens running around trying to eat us.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead, lighter and softer than before, but it triggered the flame all the same. “For another, you’re managing to crack jokes when I can barely think straight.” Another kiss—this one on the bridge of my nose—and two more on my closed eyes. “Not to mention everything else I’ve seen you do in the last twenty-four hours. Yeah, Kenzie. ‘Unbelievable’ is definitely the word.”

  He drew me in again, and I wanted it, I did—so much I had to summon every ounce of my willpower to stop him. “Cage. We can’t do this now.”

  He laughed again. “You started it.”

  “True.” I brushed my fingers over his cheeks, admiring the way amusement lit up his eyes. “But those things aren’t going to get bored and go away. If we have any hope of stopping them, we need to get moving.”

  Cage made a face, his breathing a little unsteady, and dropped his lips to mine, kissing me once more, thoroughly enough to make me question my resolve. “That sounds like an argument for continuing to me.”

  What the hell. If this was my last kiss, I meant to enjoy it. I grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer.

  Something clattered in the distance. We froze, our faces inches apart, the spell broken. As much as I wanted this, I couldn’t risk Earth’s destruction because I was busy kissing a boy. “I was right the first time,” I told him.

  Cage closed his eyes in resignation and nodded. “Okay. Let’s put more clothes on. That seems like a logical next step.”

  I grinned in spite of myself as Cage returned his attention to his XE suit. I stepped into its partner, then sealed patches and connected tubes, leaving my gloves for last. As always, a vague claustrophobia pulled at the edges of my senses when I sealed the helmet over my head, and as always, I fought it resolutely.

  This thing with Cage—it was moving fast, most likely too fast. And he was right: a big part of what I was feeling was probably adrenaline and fear and just a need to remind myself I was alive. But I also hadn’t imagined his kindness, his resolve, his spirit. Something in Cage called to me, and I really hoped I was going to get the chance to explore that something before my life ended in a flash of screams and claws.

  My helmet display sprang to life, immediately running an autocheck and confirming that everything was, as Rita liked to say, copacetic. I glanced over to find Cage a few steps behind me, not quite as deft at sealing himself inside the XE suit, but capable. Hopefully that indicated enough experience in zero g for him not to become a liability outside.

  I turned on my comm unit as soon as his suit lit up, in
dicating that he’d activated his own. “We have really limited thrusters,” I told him. “You know how to use them?”

  He nodded. “It’s a different system, but it’s pretty standard. I can figure it out.” He looked at the display readout and frowned. “You aren’t kidding when you say ‘limited.’ ”

  “It’s not a jetpack.”

  “I’m used to more propulsion.”

  “Get unused to it.” I stalked over and caught his elbows, meeting his eyes through his faceplate. “These suits are not designed for travel; they’re for short emergency jaunts between shuttle and station, or to conduct exterior repairs. We need to drift as much as possible. Only use small bursts when absolutely necessary.” I scrutinized him for another minute, then cursed under my breath. “We’d better tether together.”

  Cage scowled at me. “I’m not stupid, Kenzie. I know this isn’t a joyride.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” I said, struggling to keep my voice patient. We needed to get moving before the aliens stumbled across us. “I’ll just feel better knowing we’re secured. That way if something does happen—if there’s a malfunction, or one of us runs out of juice—we aren’t totally screwed.” I was only half lying. The chances of something going wrong with an XE suit were one in a thousand, but I didn’t relish the idea of plummeting into Earth’s atmosphere unprotected, or worse yet, drifting aimlessly until I suffocated.

  I didn’t wait for his agreement. I found a tether in the top of the locker and affixed it to the slot in my own suit before stretching it to Cage. He made a face at me but allowed me to fasten us together. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”

  I punched in my code, then set the computer to let us evacuate manually, and we plodded through the airlock door and sealed it in our wake. I always hated the few minutes of standing around while the airlock depressurized, although it was a great double check on your suit—any signs of trouble, and Sanctuary immediately repressurized the room. Still, I never quite trusted the system enough to relax. Cage and I stood shoulder to shoulder in the cramped area, my heart drumming in my ears, the expanse of space visible outside the porthole—and the weird, blocky alien ship marring it like a black hole. It was strange, being so close to him after the last few minutes and yet completely unable to touch him, to even see his face, with his helmet turned away from me.

  “Depressurization achieved,” announced Sanctuary in its pleasantly androgynous tone. “Airlock procedure complete in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .”

  With a hiss, the door slid open. We jerked against the release, our magnetic boots keeping us stable. All other noise instantly faded into nothing, swallowed by the vacuum of space. My system monitor continued a steady, reassuring hum in my ears, and Cage’s breath echoed over our active comms. But other than that, it was the stillest, most silent silence you’d ever hear—the utter absence of sound.

  I wanted to take Cage’s hand, but the bulky gloves prevented me. XE suits have come a long way since the days when they were made out of dryer tubing, but they’re not the sleek armor you see in vids. I settled for coiling the tether around my arm, keeping us connected as we stepped to the doorway and pushed off into space.

  That push propelled us toward the ship, albeit at an agonizing pace. As we approached, the ship grew rapidly, swallowing the entire Earth in its shadow. I risked a glance back. Sanctuary seemed small and helpless in the distance. A powerful longing welled in my heart for the time a few days before when Sanctuary was home to me, to my parents—when I knew my parents loved me and my future was secure. Now, nothing made sense anymore.

  I returned my attention forward. We were on a collision course, but not fast enough to bother using the thrusters. We brushed against the ship. Its blocky surface provided plenty of handholds, and we clung there like bugs on a windshield.

  I closed my eyes, settling myself. Part one was accomplished. Part two would be a lot more difficult. If we couldn’t get onto this ship, we’d have to risk sending one person in the escape pod. I wasn’t excited about that conversation. If Cage hated this idea, he’d really hate that one. Besides, frankly, if I was going to die, I’d rather do it trying to save Earth than huddling in Sanctuary, listening to the station count down the seconds to my death. Of course, dying wasn’t exactly my Plan A either. “Well, we’re here,” I said, forcing brightness into my tone. “Now it’s just a matter of finding a way in.” And, I added silently, saving our thrusters in case this is a useless endeavor. Hitting the ship had been like hitting the side of a house. If we couldn’t get into the alien ship and had to return, on the other hand, hitting the tiny door in Sanctuary’s hull would take a lot more precision.

  “Great,” said Cage. He looked vaguely green.

  I examined him with concern. “I thought you said you’d done this before.”

  “I have. I didn’t say I liked it, though.”

  Terrific. “Don’t puke,” I commanded. “It’s not fun.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  From experience. He left it unsaid, but I heard it in his voice. Fan-freaking-tastic. “Do not puke,” I repeated, as if the authority in my voice could calm his stomach. Cage only nodded. That would have to do. “Go as far as the tether allows and look for anything resembling a hatch.”

  Cage was clumsier in zero g than me, but he got himself moving in the right direction. I was confident enough to turn away and begin my own exploration.

  It was futile. The ship looked even more like LEGOs up close: smooth, shiny, plastic, the shades of black not all uniform now that I was crawling over them. But LEGOs had visible seams. The ship’s exterior was sleek and unmarred. It did have strange protuberances at odd angles, making it easy to climb along the ship’s surface without using our thrusters. Any one of them could hide an entrance, I supposed, but I didn’t know enough about alien technology to spot them. I didn’t even see any windows. I guess blind aliens didn’t need them.

  The cord stretched taut between us, and I made my way back to Cage. He shook his head needlessly, and we crawled up the ship to start our search again.

  We covered half the ship’s surface before I began to despair. Our oxygen was okay—we’d been out here thirty minutes, which left us at least ninety before we’d have to recharge. But all the oxygen in the world didn’t help if we couldn’t find a way onto the ship.

  Something caught my eye, a tiny difference in one of the knobs lining the ship’s hull? I pulled closer, reaching the end of my tether. “Cage,” I said. “Come this way a bit, would you?”

  “You find something?” he asked. The tension on the line went slack, and I crept forward.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” I tilted my head, scrutinizing the knob.

  And then I had it. “Here!” I exclaimed as Cage hovered behind me.

  He leaned past me as best he could in the bulky XE suit. “It looks like . . . claws?”

  I nodded. There was an indentation in the knob, far too narrow for my gloved fingers. I fumbled through the tool kit at my waist and drew out a flat-head screwdriver. Other tools bobbed alongside my face, tethered to my kit, and I batted them away impatiently, then angled my screwdriver—a miniature for use in emergency repairs—into the slot. If it wasn’t strong enough, we’d have to go back to Sanctuary for more appropriate tools. Hopefully not far, maybe not even beyond the airlock, but before I went to all that trouble . . .

  I slid the flat edge under the knob and tugged. The screwdriver gave slightly beneath my hand. I glanced at Cage and shrugged. I wasn’t strong enough to break the screwdriver off in the lock. If worse came to worst and I bent it, well, who cared? I shoved all of my weight behind the handle.

  It gave way suddenly, the black plastic of the knob sliding like mercury into itself, remolding. The knob became a hole big enough to put my fist through, and continued to expand faster and faster, until it opened beneath my feet, leaving us staring into a pool of gaping darkness below.

  I guess we’d found our way in.
/>   TWENTY-SEVEN

  I LANDED HEAVILY IN THE dark. My teeth rattled and I froze, torn between risking my light and stumbling around blind. Cage settled behind me, and I made up my mind. These things couldn’t see. It was our one, maybe our only, advantage.

  I activated the light on my helmet and turned to Cage, who flinched at the sudden brightness. After angling the beam down, I showed him how to access the control panel on his wrist. He figured it out quickly, and soon his light joined mine, giving us our first real look at the enemy stronghold.

  I don’t know what I expected—walls dripping with blood, maybe, or some sort of horrifying nest. What I got was more of what I’d seen on the outside: slick black surfaces, these lacking the protrusions of the ship’s exterior. We stood in an empty circular room with another strange doorknob on the wall. An airlock?

  Behind us, the fluid door melded shut. Panicked, I angled my light upward, to find another claw-shaped indentation on its underside. I breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t even occurred to me to wonder what the hell we’d do if we found ourselves trapped on the alien ship.

  I checked the readings on my display. The oxygen steadily increased with the door closing, like atmosphere returning on Sanctuary. Maybe the creatures needed air after all. Maybe they reached Sanctuary in some sort of shuttle or space suit and cut through the hull after. Or maybe they could survive without air longer than us—but not indefinitely.

  I watched my monitor with bated breath. If we couldn’t breathe in here, we’d have to stomp around in loud, clunky XE suits, limited to ninety minutes of air. If we could . . .

  Sure enough, within moments the air pressure and oxygen concentration in the room reached something approximating human normal. My sensors actually registered a little more oxygen in the air than Sanctuary allowed, and slightly lower gravity. But everything fell within human requirements.

  Cage’s gaze followed mine. “What do you think?” he murmured, quirking an eyebrow.