Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  She frowned at him. “I hate this, you know. Every instinct I have is telling me I’m crazy to go back toward South Amri.”

  “I have to see if there’s any sign of pursuit,” he said patiently.

  “Oh, I know. I’m just telling you—”

  Searing pain stabbed across her skull. Raising both hands instinctively to her forehead as the mind touch of the Betang drilled its way into her consciousness, Andi forgot all about driving. The contact was stronger than when she’d awakened from her nap in the South Amri vehicle servicing bay. Her chest constricted, and she heard herself wheeze. Veering sharply to the left, the car decelerated.

  “Andi, snap out of it! Take the controls.” Tom’s voice sounded as if it was coming from a long distance.

  Her vision narrowed. The pressure and buzzing flooded her mind, further inhibiting each strained breath and fluttering heartbeat.

  Speaking right next to her ear, Tom said, “You have to drive this thing. Breathe.”

  Andi squinted her eyes open but was still in too much pain to move, other than to hit the brakes. She watched, paralyzed as the vehicle slewed across the transportway and bumped over the edge of the road, coming to a stop about three feet onto the shoulder, just short of the drop-off to the drainage canal running alongside. Hunching over in the driver’s seat, she clutched her temples, her whole body trembling. She had to fight to get any air into her lungs.

  “Now what?” Rogers yelled.

  “Keep your eyes open, soldier. Watch your tracker readout.” Andi heard the passenger door lock disengage, then cool air brushed over her as Tom popped her own door open. Awkwardly, he embraced her in the confined space. “Sweetheart, you’ve got to fight this off. You’re the only one who can drive us out of here.”

  She opened her eyes but blinked them shut again as even the faint moonlight sent stabbing pain through her eyeballs. Stomach heaving, she leaned around him and retched. “I can’t breathe. My head hurts like it’s going to explode.”

  “The Betang must be coming—we have a narrow window of time to escape. Try to hold it off, concentrate,” Tom said.

  Moaning, she let her head fall forward onto his shoulder. Stroking her hair, he kissed her cheek.

  Andi leaned on him for a minute, trying to absorb his strength. Her chest loosened up a little as she breathed in the spice and musk of his scent. Pulling in more oxygen reduced the headache slightly. Moving as if her head might fall off, she straightened. “I’ll try.”

  “That’s the Andi I know,” Tom said, patting her on the shoulder before sprinting around the car back to his seat.

  Fumbling, vision full of blank spots and squiggly lightning bolts, Andi managed to get the car into reverse, bumping onto the transportway again. Turning in fits and starts, she pointed the nose away from South Amri.

  “Punch it,” Tom said in Andi’s right ear.

  She slammed on the acceleration, trusting him to steer. The little sports vehicle responded in an instant, pinning her into her seat and probably leaving poor Rogers jammed against the rough edge of his makeshift moon roof.

  “Tracker readout shows targets, sir,” Rogers shouted.

  She thought her heart was going to pound its way right out of her chest. “Distance?”

  “Fifteen miles out, coming steadily.”

  Gritting her teeth, Andi put her head down and activated the final power reserves. The car hurtled along the dark transportway.

  “Are you still under attack or has it eased?” Tom stroked her cheek. “Vision improving, I gather.”

  “Some. My eyesight is clearing. I can breathe again. I still have a hell of a headache, though.” She checked the rearview mirror. “Rogers, are the targets gaining?”

  “Not on this baby.” Rogers’ admiration for Gul’s expensive car was clear in his voice. “Wish I could drive it, ma’am.”

  “So do I.”

  “Watch for the cargo hauler.” Tom pushed at the phantom brake on his side of the car. “We’ll overtake it faster than you think at this speed. When we do rejoin them, I’m going to transfer Rahuna and the boy into this vehicle then I want you to head straight for the capital.”

  “I’m not going to leave you.” She whipped her head to stare at him in shock. He might as well have doused her with cold water. “I won’t.”

  “Eyes on the road. You have to go on ahead. Those targets are going to catch up with us once we’re traveling with the clunker cargo hauler. As soon as the Betang gets within mind-scan distance again, it will kill you.”

  “How? How can it sense me from so far away, let alone kill me? It touched me at Iraku’s compound, before it tried to kill me. Did it get my DNA then?” Andi strove to make sense of the danger.

  “I didn’t want to scare you unnecessarily before, but yes, the Betang was sampling your DNA when it touched you. Remember I said earlier, once it’s tasted a human’s genetic makeup, it has the power to kill that person when it gets close enough,” Tom said. “Even if we manage to fight the rebels off with our heavy weapons, you’ll die. I won’t take the chance.” His gaze was steady, unblinking. “Don’t argue. You hightail it to the capital. Between you and Rahuna, you can persuade Command to send us a rescue team.”

  “I don’t want to cut and run.” Stubborn as she felt at the moment, she could see his logic. A little.

  “But you know I’m right, don’t you?” He sounded relieved, probably because she’d implicitly accepted his argument.

  She drove at frantic speed for another minute before sighting the cargo hauler ahead.

  Stopped on the side of the road.

  “What the hell?” Tom put a clenched fist on the dashboard and stared ahead with narrowed eyes.

  “Maybe their engine’s slagging, sir.” Rogers’ voice held resignation.

  Fuming, impatient, hand on the door, Tom was poised to move, as soon as Andi brought them to a halt beside the cargo hauler.

  “Keep the engine running. I’ll get Rahuna and Sadu over here in a minute.” Tom bolted from the car, striding across the transportway to meet Mitch as he walked around the front of the stopped cargo hauler. The two men talked, easily visible now in the gray predawn light. Tom’s shoulders slumped the longer the sergeant went on.

  Not a good sign.

  Rogers leaned over the seat. “Doesn’t look promising, ma’am. That cargo-hauler engine’s still running. Wonder what’s going on?”

  A wave of cold dread washed through Andi. “Corporal, can you please take another reading on your tracker?”

  “Targets still approaching, ma’am.” Rogers looked up from the tracker and pulled his shirt collar away from his neck.

  “Try taking a reading ahead of us, toward the capital.” Oh, I hope I’m wrong…

  Flipping his device, the soldier scanned in the direction she’d requested. He whistled, eyes opening wide. He showed her the readout while talking so fast he was spitting. “Big target, stationary, multiple vehicles. Roadblock. You called it, ma’am.”

  “How far?”

  “About five miles ahead.” Chewing his lips, he stared at the readout.

  Tom came back to the car, sliding into his seat. Andi could see from his lined face and hooded eyes how reluctant he was to tell them what he’d learned.

  She touched his arm. “It’s okay. Rogers did a forward scan. We’re cut off.”

  “Yes.” He sat for a minute then flipped the comlink switch, as if to try one last appeal for help. “Fuck.” Stress and worry etched his face as he turned to her. “We’ll figure out something, I promise.”

  “We’ve made it this far. I have confidence in you.” Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss.

  “What now, sir?” Uneasily, Rogers shifted in the cramped rear compartment.

  “Rahuna says there’s a rock formation of some kind about two miles ahead. Guess he travels this road a lot in his ministry, huh?” Tom tried a lopsided smile.

  Nodding, Andi shifted the car out of idle. The motor roared. “I think I know th
e place he means. Shall I follow the truck?”

  “Right, stick close. I told Mitch it doesn’t matter if we burn out the truck engine now, once we make this rock formation. At least the heavy weapons we got from Iraku provide us some edge.” Tom raised his eyebrows and rubbed his forehead, then his neck. He sat on the edge of the seat, fingers drumming on his thighs.

  “The Betang brought the rebels several haulers’ worth of weapons, not just the ones we took from Iraku,” Andi said.

  “Unusual for the Betang to show such desperation, as far as tracking us. Their campaign on Zulaire must still be in the early stages, fragile enough for the Sectors to be able to stop it.” A tired smile was all Tom could muster. “No pressure on us, right?”

  Nodding, she matched his grin.

  Mitch drove the cargo hauler off the edge of the transportway ahead of them, steering over the uneven ground toward an isolated upthrust of rock. The massive formation was the remnant of some violent geological episode in Zulaire’s long-gone past, rising out of nowhere in the middle of the flat plains. Andi had seen the natural wonder on the way out from the capital—the Knives of the Under Spirits, so-called because of the formation’s jagged shapes and resemblance to a bundle of ceremonial knife blades. The Knives towered at an angle about two hundred feet into the Zulairian sky.

  “Not a bad spot, sir,” Rogers said as their vehicle began the bumpy trip off the transportway and across the hard-packed, dusty plain toward the rocks.

  “Don’t let the car get stalled in the dirt,” Tom said, voice tense. “Pull in front of the cargo hauler and angle it just a bit when you park, so we have a vee formation to take cover behind.”

  Andi did as she was requested then shut the motor off. The sudden silence surprised her, but a moment later she heard the sounds of approaching vehicles coming from the north. The rumbling was faint as yet but unmistakable, giving her nervous chills up and down her spine.

  “Come on, time to get you to a safer spot.” Tom tugged her out of her seat, hurrying her around the back, squeezing between Gul’s car and the nose of the cargo hauler. Mitch, Latvik and Abukawal were busy placing heavy-caliber weapons at intervals along the barricaded vehicles.

  “Wish we had the APC.” The sergeant loaded a full pack of ammo into the gun he was preparing and moved onto the next one.

  “Don’t we all,” Tom said. “Take charge here for a few minutes, would you? I’ve got to talk to Andi.”

  “No problem, sir. I think a few minutes are all we’ve got, though.” Slamming the cover down on the massive gun, Mitch set the safety to off.

  “Hold on a minute.” Andi pulled her hand from Tom’s. “I can shoot. I can fight. I want to be here on the line with you, not hiding in a rock crevice like Sadu and Lysanda.”

  She expected him to argue, had her own counterarguments ready.

  He stood staring at her for a long minute, hands on his hips, saying nothing, face drawn. Then he nodded. “Okay. We can use all the firepower we can get. But you tell me the instant you feel anything from the Betang, understand?”

  “Of course.”

  “Help me get the Tonkilns and Rahuna settled.” He held out his hand to her.

  Lacing her fingers through his, she went at a quick pace to the rock wall where Rahuna stood beside a sobbing Lysanda, arm around her shoulders. Sadu watched his sister’s face, thumb in mouth, deciding whether this was something he should cry over, too. As Andi approached them, the toddler’s little face crumpled, and he began to howl. She reached for him, to offer what comfort she could. Lysanda forestalled her, gathering her baby brother into her arms and crooning a song while she rocked back and forth.

  Rahuna met Tom, holding out a hand. “I should like a weapon, Captain.”

  Unclasping his blaster from the holster, the captain handed it over. Andi gaped at him, then eyed the cleric with raised brows, horrified that things had come to this necessity. Rahuna with a weapon? Rahuna prepared to kill people? His Serene Holiness took the weapon gingerly, studying the sleek, black Mark 27 blaster with a judicious eye. Tom reached over and shifted the weapon in his hands, adjusted Rahuna’s grip.

  “You click off the safety here.” Tom pointed with one hand. “Aim, depress this.” He demonstrated. “And it shoots. Plenty of charges left. Any questions, sir?”

  “No. I’ll manage. Sanenre does not forbid killing in a good cause. I must be responsible for the Tonkiln children.” The cleric experimented with aiming. “I won’t allow Lysanda and Sadu to fall into the hands of these killers, trust me.”

  Tom assessed Rahuna with a long, measuring gaze then nodded. “All right, on my command, or if the rest of us are neutralized, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” His Serene Holiness said. “And, Captain, Sanenre’s blessing on us all in the next hour.”

  “We’ll need it.” Tom saluted before he and Andi jogged back toward the defensive line of vehicles.

  Opposite their group, back on the transportway, a motley convoy of ten assorted vehicles had come to a halt.

  “Pretty overpowering odds.” Andi stared across the dusty plain, her eyes narrowed. Looks like the entire contingent from the village, all armed to the teeth. Drawing her blaster, she clicked the safety off. “Where do you want me?”

  “Between Mitch and me.” Tom drew her to the indicated spot.

  Andi swallowed hard. “Orders?”

  “Just shoot the bastards.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Stay hunkered down as much as you can.” He strode away, calling to Mitch for another blaster.

  Crouching behind the rear flank of the car, Andi found a position where she could get a clear line of sight without being too exposed. Tom brushed her back as he moved to take his place.

  Strange how the enemy is so silent. Why aren’t they yelling demands or something? Sweat trickled down her neck. Her legs were cramping already. Inaction was so much more torturous to endure than action. She wanted to stand up and run toward the trucks, attacking them, just to get the combat underway.

  “Remember, make each shot count,” Tom said in a tense whisper.

  She nodded, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, afraid to try her voice.

  Suddenly, fifty or sixty rebels poured out from around the ragtag, dilapidated vehicles that made up the convoy. Screaming oaths and curses, the men ran across the plain, firing their weapons uselessly since they were still out of range. Whatever heavy armament the insurgents had mounted on their trucks shot a barrage of covering fire, bracketing the Knives harmlessly on the first round.

  “Fire at will!” Tom shouted.

  His command startled her. Reflexively, she pressed the firing button, and the beam went wild. Her companions’ blaster fire erupted around Andi. She swallowed hard, took aim and shot again, but her next blast also went wide. Pinpointing a single enemy soldier rather than trying to sweep across the mob, Andi controlled her weapon, letting off a short burst. The man stumbled and fell as her shot hit him.

  Andi swallowed. Don’t think, don’t feel, just shoot them before they can shoot you.

  She settled into a rhythm of aim, fire, move on to the next target without waiting to see if she’d been successful. Totally focused on her own battle, Andi hovered in a zone, aware of the others beside her, hearing the boom every time Rogers fired his energy cannon, blocking incoming blasts, but her senses had narrowed. She focused only on the sights of her own blaster.

  At first the insurgents were easy to pick off as they sprinted in a disorganized mob. The attack failed, and a few minutes later the next wave came at them using a pair of slowly moving cargo haulers as shields.

  “Disable those trucks, damn it,” Tom yelled over the din. “Don’t let them get close.”

  The Sectors party would have been overwhelmed in short order without the heavy weapons they’d found in Iraku’s truck. As it was, Rogers and Latvik targeted and knocked out the oncoming trucks with relative ease. A short lull fell. Andi’s hands were sore, her legs shaking. She slumped to the ground, ba
ck to the car and lowered her head. Tom moved along the line of his makeshift fortifications, checking the need for recharges, checking for injuries.

  “Incoming,” Mitch shouted. Andi, Tom and the others hit the dirt as an energy charge exploded harmlessly behind them, striking midway between them and the spot where Rahuna and the Tonkilns huddled in the shelter of the Knives.

  Tom took up a position where Gul’s car and the cargo hauler met. “Return fire!”

  Andi pinpointed the location where the energy grenades were being launched. “Rogers, see that ugly green flatbed over there? That’s the one to take out, quick.”

  “With pleasure, ma’am.” Swinging his cannon around on the makeshift turntable in Gul’s backseat, Rogers unleashed an intense barrage of energy. The designated truck blew up in a huge explosion, setting a couple of the other vehicles on fire. A number of the enemy fell, either from the concussion or from shrapnel. The rebels in the field hesitated, before withdrawing in a ragged wave.

  “Yes!” Andi pumped her fist in the air and slapped Rogers on the back. “Great shot.”

  “They’ve got reinforcements, sir.” Mitch pointed out three more trucks driving in from the north.

  “Keep an eye on them.” Tom crouched beside Andi. “I’m proud of you.”

  She stared at the newly arrived vehicles. Unexpectedly, a slimy sensation rippled down her arms, as if she’d been stroked by a tentacle. The Betang must be in one of those trucks.

  “Andi?” He put his arms around her, turning her to face him.

  Reaching up, she wiped a smear of blood from his cheek where he’d been grazed by shrapnel, her hand trembling. What if he’d been seriously injured, or even killed? That was a pretty near miss. “I’m cool as a cucumber when they’re attacking, but I have the shakes like crazy in the lulls like this one.”

  “That’s normal. Adrenaline rush. Are you okay? No injuries?” He eyed her up and down, running his hand along her arm.

  Andi hesitated.

  He glared at her. “Answer me. You’re hiding something.”

  Gesturing at the enemy convoy, she said, “The Betang is here. It must have come in one of those new trucks. The sensation is faint, but I can tell the creature’s there.”