Girl of Fire: The Expulsion Project Book One (A Science Fiction Dystopian Thriller)

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Girl of Fire: The Expulsion Project Book One (A Science Fiction Dystopian Thriller) Page 11

by Norma Hinkens


  13

  I hurry down the hallway to the crew rooms. Buir peers out of Ghil’s room, her arms piled high with bedding.

  “Forget that!” I call to her. “We have to help Meldus.”

  Her eyes widen. “Did he do it?”

  I shake my head. “It was me.”

  Buir gasps, her eyes pooling with fear.

  “I needed the dargonite to pay for information about the bracelets,” I explain. “Sarth suspects one of us was behind it. I have to get Meldus out of there before she hurts him.”

  “How?” Buir tosses the bedding inside the room. “Sarth has a gun. We can’t go back in there unarmed.”

  “I have an idea. But we’ll need Velkan’s help.” I grab her hand and together we race down the hallway to the control room. The doors slide apart with a pneumatic whoosh to reveal Velkan at the controls. He turns and scrambles to his feet when he sees us. “Are you okay?”

  My heart warms at the concern in his voice. He glances at Buir, but his eyes linger on me. “Sarth didn’t hurt you or anything?

  “We’re fine,” I say. “Did you hide it?”

  He nods. “It’s safe for now—I stuffed it in a slit in my mattress.”

  “What about Nipper?” Buir asks. “He saw everything.”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Velkan says. “I’ll handle him. Anyway, he’s loving the fact that you pulled one over on Sarth.”

  “I don’t know why he puts up with the way she treats him,” Buir says. “Surely an engineer could get work on another ship.”

  Velkan grimaces. “Nipper is Sarth’s nephew. She adopted him when his parents were killed in a mining accident.”

  My jaw drops. Sarth is a mother! How can she possibly share that title with my loving, gracious, and compassionate mother?

  “Nipper has a problem holding down jobs because of his drinking.” Velkan glances across at the door. “Where’s Meldus?”

  “Sarth’s interrogating him now, with Ghil’s help,” I say. “We need to do something.”

  Velkan furrows his brow. “We have no weapons.”

  “Yes, we do.” I walk over to the pilot seat, sit down and study the flickering screens around me. “We’ll launch the ship.” I close my fingers around the joystick. “That should get her attention.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Velkan says.

  I turn to him and grin. “I am and I need your help. Guide me through what to do.”

  He hesitates, wrestling with the enormity of what I’m asking of him.

  “Don’t worry about Sarth,” I add. “Tell her I told you she ordered us to launch.”

  Velkan remains quiet for a moment. “What if she turns on you?”

  “She won’t. She wants those mining rights on Cwelt too badly. That’s the only reason she didn’t kill me when she had her chance.”

  Velkan slips into the seat beside me and fastens his harness with a resigned sigh. “We’re already prepped for takeoff. Hit the ignition and throttle up the engines.”

  “Buckle up, Buir,” I call back to her.

  A familiar rumbling sound accompanies the hull’s vibration as the Zebulux roars to life. Red lights turn to green across the array of monitors in front of me. Adrenalin courses through me as I’m thrust backward into the bucket seat by the sheer force of the thrusters accelerating. Seconds later we’re airborne.

  “I knew there was something beyond Cwelt for me,” I say, smiling across at Velkan.

  He opens his mouth to respond just as Sarth bursts through the door.

  “What are you doing?” she screams, reaching for Velkan by his hair and yanking his head back hard, her eyes cold and feral.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” I say, unbuckling my harness. “I told him you gave the order to launch.”

  Sarth hesitates, her chest heaving up and down as she weighs my words, spittle glistening on her bottom lip. She glances from me to Velkan and back to me again. Wordlessly, she releases Velkan with a shove and yanks me out of the pilot’s seat. “Get out of my sight,” she hisses. “If it weren’t for those mining rights, I’d have gotten rid of you a long time ago.”

  She jerks her head in Buir’s direction. “You go clean up those cabins like I told you to and then get back down to the galley and help Ghil.”

  “Where’s Meldus?” I ask.

  “In the engine room where he belongs.” She lets out a snort. “Piece of scum admitted he was drunk too. They were both passed out. Useless—both of them. Anyone could have come on board.”

  A huge wave of relief washes over me. I wasn’t sure how far Sarth would really take it with the interrogation tactics, but it was a clever play on Meldus’s part to say he got drunk with Nipper. It might have saved him a world of pain, if not his life.

  I exit the control room and walk with Buir back down to the galley. “See you at dinnertime,” I say. “Is it mash again?”

  She gives a half-hearted grin. “We have fresh supplies for a few days, so Ghil’s given me permission to make something out of them.”

  “Phew! I can already feel my appetite returning.”

  Buir laughs. “What are you going to do until then?”

  “First, I’m going to check on Meldus, make sure they didn’t lob off an earlobe or something.”

  Buir shivers. “I’m sure Ghil’s capable of it, but he’s got a heart in there somewhere.”

  “You mean a soft spot for you,” I say, with a wink.

  She throws me a look of abject horror. “Don’t even go there! He must be twice my age.” She arches a brow at me. “Speaking of soft spots, I’m pretty sure our sunburned serf goes weak at the knees every time you walk into the room.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, my cheeks growing warm. “He’s just watching out for us.”

  “He’s watching one of us, that’s for sure.” Buir sounds amused. She splays her hand good-bye and disappears into the galley.

  I mull over her words as I make my way to the stairs leading down to the cargo bay. I can’t deny I’m attracted to Velkan, but I wasn’t sure if the feeling was mutual, or if he was just being friendly. Buir seems convinced it’s more than that. I finger the chain at my neck. It feels so comfortable being around him—almost like I’ve known him all my life. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be when you’re in love.

  In the cargo bay, I grab the crowbar out of the back of the LunaTrekker and head for the stairs. This is as good an opportunity as any to return it before any questions are asked.

  I open the door to the engine room and step over the threshold. I’m hit again by the oppressive heat, the incessant throbbing of the engines, and the foul stench of fuel. Silently, I slip the crowbar back among the tools lying under the turbine.

  “Meldus!” I yell. “Are you down here?” I try to focus in the dim light and peer through the labyrinth of pipes and equipment to the far end of the room. There’s no sign of him or Nipper. Surely they’re not hitting the bottle again.

  I pick my way through the disarray and random tools scattered across the floor of the engine room. The Zebulux could use a more conscientious engineer than Nipper. It’s a miracle the ship stays airborne. A moment later, I catch my foot in a snake of wires and plunge headfirst to the floor. I spread my fingers wide to save myself, tracking my nails through a greasy puddle. “Ugh!” I pick myself up and look around for something to wipe my hands on. A rustling sound stops me in my tracks. “Meldus?” I call out. “Is that you?”

  I wait for several minutes but hear nothing more. I make my way to the back of the room and push open the door to the small storage room Nipper and Meldus were drinking in earlier. A lone bottle sits atop the table in the middle of the space. I grab a towel from the counter, and wipe the grease from my fingers before turning to leave.

  The blood drains from my head.

  Nipper’s muscular body fills the doorway—blocking my exit. He watches me with a peculiar grin, arms locked across his burly chest.

  “Is Meldus here?” I ask,
trying to sound nonchalant, even though my pulse is racing.

  “Haven’t seen him.” Nipper’s grin widens like a cavern about to swallow me up. “Just you and me.” He takes a step toward me.

  I take a couple of steps backward, bumping into the counter. I grope behind me, desperately trying to find something I can use to defend myself. Desperately wishing I still had the crowbar.

  “Let me out, Nipper,” I say. “You’re in enough trouble. If you lay a finger on me, I’ll see to it you don’t get your share of the dargonite.”

  He laughs a deep-throated growl. “Sarth won’t give it up. None of us will see one lousy credit from that rock.”

  Before I realize what’s happening, his arms shoot out and wrap around me like pliers. “But you might give it up, if you know what I mean. After all, you owe me something for keeping your little secret.”

  I raise my arm to lash out at him. He grabs it and twists it behind my back. The pain is excruciating and I scream, “Let me go!”

  He tightens his grip and moves his face toward mine, but I wrench sideways and his slick lips plant on my cheek instead.

  I knee him in the stomach as hard as I can—but not enough to force him to release me. He tilts my head back and leans over me again. I scrunch my eyes shut, nausea surging up my throat as I twist in vain to move my face away from his.

  Suddenly, there’s a cracking sound, like bone hitting bone, and my arm is released. My eyes pop open. Velkan stands behind Nipper, getting ready to take another swing. Nipper’s face is flushed, his eyes narrowed. He charges head down at Velkan, and the two go flying across the floor, grappling at each other’s throats. The empty bottle on the table teeters for a moment and then falls to the floor and smashes. Nipper pins Velkan beneath him and delivers a few powerful blows to the head before Velkan manages to throw him off. He punches Nipper in the stomach and the head, raining down blows incessantly, but Nipper flips him and kicks him hard in the lower back. Velkan grunts, then scrambles to his feet and retreats a few feet, fists at the ready.

  “Is the lowly serf jealous?” Nipper taunts. He wipes the back of his hand across his bleeding nose and charges Velkan again. They exchange blow after blow until both their faces are bloodied, but it’s obvious Velkan is struggling to keep up under Nipper’s meaty fists.

  I frantically scan the space for something I can use as a weapon before Nipper delivers a blow that kills Velkan. My gaze falls on the broken bottle. I wait for my chance, then dart across the floor and grab it. Heart pounding, I raise my arm to smash it across the back of Nipper’s head just as a single gunshot rings out.

  14

  I spin to find Sarth standing in the doorway. “What did you do?” I whisper.

  She ignores me and calmly holsters her gun.

  Frozen with fear, I stare at the tangle of bloodied bodies on the floor. For a moment neither one moves. Blood pounds in my temples as I wrestle with the unthinkable. Then I hear a groan.

  I watch with bated breath as Velkan heaves Nipper off him and rolls to one side before struggling up from the floor. His eyes meet mine and a floodgate of emotion rushes through me.

  Sarth brushes by me and kneels by Nipper to check for a pulse, before abruptly getting to her feet.

  “You killed him!” I blurt out.

  She looks at me sharply. “Saved you the trouble, didn’t I?”

  “I was trying to break up a fight, not kill him. How could you do that? He was your son.”

  Sarth grunts. “My brother’s worthless spawn. Attempting to kill another member of my crew. I had to choose who was more valuable.” She scowls at Velkan. “This was your lucky day.”

  “I had no choice but to fight him,” Velkan says. “He attacked Trattora.”

  Sarth waves a dismissive hand, as if she already knows, or at least suspected. “Dispose of the body in the waste port. Then clean yourself up and show Meldus what needs to be done down here. He’ll have to take over now.”

  She turns and beckons to me. “You can fill in for Velkan in the control room.”

  “Where is Meldus?” I ask, following her through the door. “I thought you sent him to the engine room.”

  “After he installs a new lock on my door,” Sarth grumbles. “It’s the least he can do for getting drunk and letting someone smash the place up.”

  It sounds like a reasonable explanation for why Meldus hasn’t returned yet, but after what I just witnessed, I’ll feel better when I see him with my own eyes.

  “Don’t you feel any remorse for what you did?” I ask.

  Sarth pierces me with an accusatory gaze. “Should I? He was about to kill Velkan, and then he’d have had his way with you.” She sniffs and runs the back of her hand across her nose. “Doesn’t leave room for remorse in my book.”

  I follow her up the stairwell on shaking legs, wracked by a sense of guilt. Inadvertently, I had a hand in Nipper’s death. Maybe it would have come to this anyway, but my deception hastened his demise no matter how I look at it. If I hadn’t broken into Sarth’s room, Meldus wouldn’t have been forced to fix the lock, I wouldn’t have ended up alone in the engine room with Nipper, and Velkan wouldn’t have fought him.

  I slide into the seat next to Sarth in the control room and force myself to focus on her instructions as she reactivates manual navigation. Her tone is clipped and businesslike as she demonstrates how to design a reference trajectory and directs me how to use the plasma detection system for avoiding space debris. I struggle to collect my thoughts, disturbed by Sarth’s callousness and lack of empathy, as I study the sensor displays.

  When Ghil’s voice comes over the intercom announcing dinner, it’s a welcome respite.

  Sarth stretches her arms out behind her. “Bring me back a plate, and make it snappy this time. I’m going to send a downlink to Diretus. We’ll be there by tomorrow night at this cruising speed.”

  I tense at the mention of Diretus. “The penal colony, right?”

  Sarth hikes a brow at me. “You know it?”

  “Velkan said that’s where you’re planning to hand off the vats to the body poachers.”

  Sarth gives a curt nod. “It’s a dark market for all sorts of goods.”

  “Velkan told me the commissioner was Ghil’s brother—he sounds gruesome.”

  Sarth grunts. “Velkan talks too much. If he’s not careful, Crank will make sure he never talks again.”

  A shiver runs across my shoulders. Whoever this Crank is, his name paints a disturbing picture in my mind. The sooner we unload the vats and set a course for Aristozonex, the better.

  “How long will it take to remove the vats?” I ask.

  Sarth scratches her pitted cheek. “Not long. Crank knows what he’s doing. We’ll overnight on Diretus and head off early the next morning.”

  I frown. “Why are we staying the night?”

  “It would be impolite not to. Crank is touchy about things like that.” Sarth throws me a sharp look. “Just remember, we’re only there to deliver the vats. We keep the dargonite under wraps. If Crank gets wind of it, he’ll want in on it. And what he wants, he gets.” She peers at the view screen in front of her. “I’ll send that downlink now and give Crank an ETA. Go get me some food.”

  I’m relieved to find Meldus seated at a table in the dining room tucking into a plate of food. “Thank you for not saying anything,” I whisper to him.

  He looks straight at me. “It’s my job to protect you no matter the cost.”

  I give a grateful nod and head over to the galley to pick up Sarth’s dinner. Meldus may be only sixteen, but he’s as loyal as any of my father’s guards. I’m thankful he’s with me. On our return, I’ll be sure and commend him to my father for promotion.

  When I set a laden plate in front of Sarth a few minutes later, she stares at it for the longest time before reaching for her fork. “Never seen anything this good come out of Ghil’s galley before. Let’s see if it tastes as good as it looks.”

  She chomps noisily and steadily
on the roasted vegetables and fried rabbit until her plate is empty. Then she leans back and belches loudly. “Bring me another one,” she says, gesturing at the plate.

  I smile to myself as I make my way back down to the galley. Despite her reluctance to embark on this adventure, Buir is quickly becoming the most popular addition to the crew.

  We’re almost at Diretus the following evening when Sarth spots a suspicious shape on the scanner. “Looks like a Syndicate patrol ship on our tail,” she says through gritted teeth. “Headed for Diretus.”

  “Do you want to divert?” Velkan asks from the co-pilot seat.

  “Stay the course, but go to blackout and prepare for a possible sweep and intercept.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat.

  “The patrol could be heading to Diretus on Syndicate business, or they may be tracking us,” Velkan says. “Some of the newer Syndicate ships have upgraded scanners that can pick up illegal cryogenic transports. If they detect our cargo, they’ll try to intercept us. We’ll dim all the lights on the Zebulux and hope they haven’t picked us up on their radar yet.”

  “And if they have?” I ask.

  Sarth cracks her knuckles. “We’ll stall them and radio to Crank for backup.”

  “Doesn’t he work for the Syndicate?” I say.

  “He works for anyone who pays him,” Sarth says. “He has an unregistered warship at his disposal as well as his official Syndicate frigate.”

  Suddenly, a low beeping fills the flight deck and a light on the dashboard flickers red. “They’ve locked in on us!” Sarth growls.

  I stare at the screen in horror as the patrol ship accelerates toward us.

  “Tighten your harness,” Velkan calls over his shoulder to me. “We may have to do some evasive maneuvers.”

  “Get the shields up,” Sarth orders. “It’ll give us some initial protection if they fire.”

 

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