Paradisi Escape: A Paradisi Chronicles novella (Paradisi Exodus Book 1)

by Cheri Lasota

  “Chief!” he heard a woman call out, and the ball of anxiety in his stomach exploded. He glanced toward the hatch area at the far end and saw Tessra Daleda rushing toward him, her smile wide. “What the heck are you doing at this hatch?”

  Solomon ignored her in favor of checking out the Founder guards' reactions to her outburst. They were looking his way unfortunately, sharing a perplexed stare at him. One of them frowned, and Solomon forced himself to smile broadly at Tessra.

  Just act the part, Sol. Pretend there's no reason why you shouldn't be here.

  “Tessra, how about you? What brings you to this hatch?”

  “Oh, I was just eating nearer to this hatch, and thought I'd pop in this way. I know I'm supposed to take the crew hatch. Sorry, boss.” She blushed a bit at that, and Solomon took the opportunity to lean close to her ear.

  “Tessra, we've got to get aboard the ship no matter what occurs. It's critical. Distract the guards for us?”

  Tessra nodded as she smiled for the guards' benefit. “Is it a code 10-36?”

  “Yes. Tell no one. And make sure you get aboard as soon as possible. Muster aft on Watch Deck 16.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hey, I thought Graversen said he had detained him,” Solomon heard the guard with crooked teeth say.

  Damn.

  Solomon tried to focus on Tessra's movements as she strode up to bad-teeth guy. He didn't know either of the guards, which could either be a good thing or a bad thing. He was about to find out.

  The dark-eyed guard elbowed bad-teeth guy forward. Tessra stepped right in front of him and started peppering him with questions like a champ. Yet another crew member who was about to get a raise at Reach Corp. Pretty soon they'd bankrupt him, and he was very much okay with that.

  Teeth guy wasn't having any of it, trying to push past her to get to Solomon. She cut him off again, and this time, he lost his patience, pulling a stun gun on her.

  This was escalating more quickly than Solomon had anticipated. He had no idea how to diffuse the situation, but he wasn't going to stand there dumbfounded and lose his only chance to board the ship.

  “What are you doing, Georgie?” Tessra protested loudly. “Pulling a gun on me?” she demanded, pushing the gun's barrel away from her. Damn, that woman had guts.

  “Here's our chance, Neyve girl,” he overheard Dugal say to his niece, who looked petrified. “Let's go!”

  It took Solomon a moment to realize what he was saying. He was attempting to sneak Neyve aboard, something he doubted he'd try if he knew his boss was standing right behind him. As it was, Solomon had too much to worry about than a single unauthorized girl.

  “Hey, old man,” the dark-eyed guard yelled. “I haven't checked you in yet. Wait in the holding area.”

  “Oh, sir, I have my pass right here,” Dugal responded, scrolling through screens on his wrist device.

  This might bode well for Solomon and Dextra, as it provided a distraction.

  Dugal suddenly shoved Neyve forward toward the hatch.

  “What do you mean?” the girl asked Dugal dumbly, her voice high with fear.

  On the other side of the docking module, Tessra wrestled with the guard, elbowing his chin as she reached for the stun gun.

  Suddenly it went off, and gasps went around the module as the impact stream hit Dugal square in the chest. He seemed to convulse and go lax almost immediately, as if he had had a heart attack from the shock of the stun gun. The look on the girl's face as her uncle crumpled to the floor before her was hard to bear. But Solomon knew by the sightlessness of his eyes and the death rattle of his body that he had already passed away. Dugal was a loyal and good man. He didn't deserve such an end.

  Solomon immediately wanted to go to him, but the thought of the three thousand Reachers waiting for rescue stopped him. He could either see what could be done for Dugal, or he could callously use this opportunity to reach the SS Challenge. Again, he was faced with an impossible but obvious choice. He would have to go on and slip by the guards while they dealt with the Colgans.

  “Uncle Dugal! Oh my god. What did you do?” Neyve yelled at the guard.

  Both guards stood still with shock as they stared at Dugal.

  That was when Solomon grabbed Dextra's hand and skirted around behind the crowd of onlookers beyond the guards' eye line.

  “He has a bum heart, you moron!” Neyve shouted, her anger subsiding into a fractured and fragile voice toward the end. “Uncle D, can you hear me?” was the last thing Solomon heard her say as he and Dextra slipped aboard the SS Challenge. The echoes of her sobs reminded him of his sister, yet another victim of collateral damage. One soul for three thousand? What gave him the right to make that choice?

  Solomon immediately pulled Dextra into a maintenance compartment right off the Cryo Deck's main esplanade.

  “If we're going to make it, we'll need to blend in,” he said as he worked to manually lock the slider. “The daughter of the XO and the Reach Corp Chief tend to stick out in a crowd.”

  “How are we going to manage that?”

  Solomon grabbed some maintenance worker uniforms off hooks along the bulkhead. They were loose-fitting, ombre-blue uniforms with separate shirts and pants. They'd keep them from standing out in their own uniforms as well as ensuring—hopefully—anonymity.

  “Here, put this on over your uniform.” He tossed her one, and she sat on the bench that took up one whole corner of the compartment to pull off her boots.

  “What about you?” Dextra mumbled through the fabric she held in her teeth.

  “Same. I'll need to strip off the maintenance uniform for my spacewalk later.”

  “You're really going to do that?” she asked, slipping the baggier uniform over her own form-fitting Command uniform and zipping it up.

  “It's a lovely day for a walk outside, don't you think?”

  Her scowl made him laugh. “Don't joke about it. That boy is innocent.”

  “From what I hear, he's no innocent boy. And I don't plan to harm him, but Marcks doesn't know that,” he said, ripping off his boots and slipping into the maintenance uniform.

  “And what if the ship leaves without you?”

  If I'm left behind, at least Edge and Graversen will be pleased. That's something, right?”

  Dextra punched him in the arm irritably. “I'm not going to let that happen.”

  “Getting used to having me around, eh?” Solomon asked, the stress of the past few hours making him feel a bit giddy and stupid. They both pulled their boots back on at the same time, and then glanced at each other simultaneously.

  “Yes, if you must know.” Dextra glanced away, cheeks blooming pink.

  Solomon frowned, not sure how to read her. “Well, ah . . .” he tried awkwardly but failed to come up with a brilliant comeback. Yet his curiosity got the best of him. “Why? Why would you want to help me? You're one of them—a Founder.”

  “Because as hard as it is for you to believe, I have a conscience,” she said tartly, as if he had offended her. He started to respond but she waved a hand at him. “And I believe you to be right. I don't think Command should knowingly harm three thousand people who have a right—under contract—to be here. I'm all about the rules, remember?”

  Solomon shook his head in disbelief. She really did want his plan to succeed.

  “My concern is for you right now, Dextra. I don't know what's going to happen when this thing goes down, and I don't want you to get hurt.”

  “I'll take my chances.”

  “You should have been a Reacher.”

  “Oh, really? Prospects aren't exactly looking up for the Reachers at the moment,” she observed.

  “But we have an excellent benefits package,” Solomon protested, attempting not to crack a smile.

  She smiled for him. “Where are we going first?” she asked, quite obviously changing the subject.

  “Best I don't tell you in case you get caught with me. You'll find out soon enough.”

  S
he frowned again. “That doesn't work for me.”

  Solomon sighed, mildly amused. “We're heading down to the Cargo Sector to a secret passage up through the decks. That much I will tell you. So stick close to me and look nonchalant. The cameras will pick us up, but no one will think anything of it until the alarm sounds.”

  “Secret passage?” Dextra glanced sideways at him. “There is no such thing.”

  “You think that the Chief Aerospace Engineer who designed the state-of-the-art 880-meter spaceship you're standing in wouldn't have included a few hidden compartments?”

  “Hmm . . . Why exactly would you need them?”

  “I was just betrayed and tortured by my evil overlords. Reason enough?”

  “I'm not sure that Challenge Command would—”

  “I think we're past considering what they find acceptable professional behavior, yes? Those compartments may save some precious lives when all is said and done—maybe even our own.”

  “All right. But be aware I find it . . . uncomfortable.”

  “Noted.”

  Just then her stomach gave a vicious growl, and he couldn't help the laugh that erupted from him. “That making you uncomfortable too?” he asked.

  She grinned. “Starving. Got anything to eat?”

  “There should be something in one of these footlockers.” He rummaged around and came up with two AeroEnergy Bars. He tossed her one and ripped into his, finishing it off in two massive bites. “Should hold us for at least three or four hours.”

  She ravenously bit into hers and looked around once finished. “Any more for the road?”

  “Sorry. That's all I found.” He gave her a look-over. “Just one more thing.” Solomon pulled a name patch from a drawer full of them and tossed it to her. “Your name is now Greeta Volk.”

  “And yours”—Dextra rummaged in the same drawer and pressed one to his chest—“is Devro Tezer.”

  “I always knew my parents should have called me Devro.”

  “No, Solomon fits you,” Dextra said, tilting her head. “Do you have any other family on the ground?”

  “The Reachers are my family now.” He felt a bit uneasy with that line of talk, so he waved her over to the door. “Wait a sec. There are people just down the corridor. I can hear them.” He pressed his ear to the locked slider, straining to hear the voices as they drew nearer.

  Suddenly, the alarm he'd been dreading since he escaped nearly made him jump out of his skin. Beyond its initial testing, it was the first time he'd ever heard that alarm go off. He never dreamed he would be the one to trigger it.

  “Warning. Warning. Chief Engineering Officer Solomon Reach has gone rogue. If you see him, report him to ship's security immediately.”

  For a moment, he and Dextra stared at each other. Here was the moment of truth. Would she chicken out at this point? He wouldn't blame her. He ought to make her stay here for her own safety anyway.

  “Detain Solomon Reach at all costs,” the loudspeaker went on. “Repeat: detain Solomon Reach. Call in his status and location ASAP.”

  The alarm bell sounded three more times and fell blessedly silent.

  “That's going to make things a bit more difficult,” Dextra said, her voice deadpan.

  He studied her face. “You don't have to do this, Dextra. You can back out, say I kidnapped you.”

  She flashed him a lopsided smile. “I'm not going to sit around worrying about you while you're out there trying to save the world.”

  “Not the world. Just my crew. But I'll understand if you want to play it safe. They aren't your people, so I wouldn't blame you.”

  Dextra looked offended. “I've been working side by side with your crew since the SS Challenge launch project started. Even if no one else is willing to honor your sacrifices . . . I will.”

  Solomon nodded, vowing not to broach the subject again. She was one of them, no matter where she came from.

  “While we're still hidden away in here, I'm going to try again to make contact with Tavian.”

  “You really think Challenge Command is questioning him?”

  “I sure as hell hope not.”

  Solomon spun up Vida's UiComm and reconfigured it a bit to monitor his own vitals.

  “NEW TEXT TO TAVIAN HUNT: IT'S SOL. I HAVE VIDA'S UI. REPORT YOUR STATUS ASAP. RESPOND TO VIDA'S UI.”

  Solomon glanced at Dextra who was shoving their hats below a pile of uniforms in a footlocker. He glanced at her shiny black hair as it swung around. It wasn't often he was able to see a woman's free-flowing hair these days. He had to glance away or she was bound to notice him staring.

  “All right, we need to go,” he said.

  “Maintenance caps?”

  “Yes, here.” He grabbed two from a small bin and gave her one. She clamped it down hard on her head and completed her transformation into maintenance worker. Even in that getup she was beautiful. He pulled his cap on to distract himself.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Yes. Hey, what if we push around this cart? We'd look more official.”

  Solomon looked over the cart that was filled with various supplies and tools for maintaining the automatic cleaning bots. “Good idea. The supplies might also come in handy at some point.”

  He rummaged around for anything useful in the cart and came up with a hex key set. He slipped it into his pocket. He was going to need that later.

  “I'll push it out after you open the door,” Dextra said.

  “Don't look directly at any cameras and keep a steady walk as we go. Got it?”

  They skidded out into the temporarily vacant hallway. Solomon felt at once their vulnerability. He was no criminal or spy. He was an engineer. He was used to commanding respect. But if he wanted to survive this day without dismemberment or worse, he'd have to fake anonymity.

  He grabbed Dextra's arm as a group of Challenge crew walked by at the end of the corridor.

  “We're heading toward that door to the left. It may require a code that could take me some time to override. Pull the cart around so it's between us and them.”

  Dextra nodded once and pushed the cart to the center of the corridor, which also hid his work on the panel.

  Solomon murmured sub-vocally his username and password into Vida's Ui HUD so he could bring up his own code files to search for the override code he needed.

  He felt her touch on his shoulder. “They're coming,” Dextra whispered. “Hurry.”

  Solomon forced himself not to look in the direction of the approaching footsteps. Finally, he found the right code. As he began to input it, he heard them talking.

  “Be systematic. Remember he knows every inch of this ship. He has the advantage,” a male voice said.

  “And we need to figure out where he might be headed and work back from there,” a woman responded.

  “I suspect he would have disguised himself in some way. It's what I would do. Maintenance crew maybe?”

  Awkward silence ensued, and Solomon could feel them staring at the back of his head. He moved to block their view of Dextra's face and motioned her to head into the compartment with the cart. He could see her breathing quicken. He touched her hand briefly as she entered the maintenance compartment to try and calm her down.

  “Hey!” one of the Challenge employees called out, and Solomon heard their rapid footsteps approaching.

  Solomon shut the door immediately and inputted his emergency code to disable further access.

  “Did they recognize us?” Dextra asked, breathless.

  “I'm not sure. I don't think so, but let's not stick around to find out. Gotta keep moving. Next up, we need to cross another corridor. I don't think you're familiar with this area, are you?”

  “No, is this strictly a maintenance sector?”

  “Among other things. But service crew only.”

  “Lead the way.”

  “A lot of Reacher offices in this area. We should be safe.”

  “That's comforting,” she said, and he didn't miss
the sarcasm.

  “Well, I'm all about comfort.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Hey, if I had a beach chair and an ice cold beer in front of me right now, you can bet I'd be living it up with the best of them.”

  She smirked. “Liar.”

  “Honestly, I can't even recall what a beach looks like. Or the feel of sand or touch of the waves.”

  “Well, I can drop you down the Solix Sky's ribbon, and you can have a nice little dip in the ocean.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Thoughtful of you.”

  “But first, you've got Reachers to save.”

  “It's always work, work, work with you.”

  “And procedures. Don't forget those.”

  “Thankfully, you won't let me forget them,” Solomon said, peeking out the back door that led to another corridor. “All right. Corridor's clear. Let's move.”

  They rushed down the hall, the cart's wheels squeaking loudly across the floor. The sound caught the attention of a few Reachers, but Solomon ignored them and turned away, hoping they were far enough away not to be recognized.

  “Oh my god! Chief? What—”

  Jesus. Was he really that recognizable in a janitor's get up?

  He sliced a hand through the air and shook his head, hoping whoever it was would get the hint. He squinted and realized it was just Josie. She'd be a good girl and let them pass by. He pressed a finger to his lips. Josie hesitated but nodded.

  “Sir, they're looking for you,” she whispered as she approached.

  “I know. Any Founder crewmember asks . . . tell them you saw me on Watch Deck 18. Tell no Reachers where you saw me. And Josie, do not leave this ship for any reason.”

  “Yes, sir,” Josie said.

  Solomon nodded his thank you and pressed Dextra into the next compartment.

  “Here we are and here is where we leave our trusty cart.”

  “And where is here exactly?” she asked, peering around the dark, cramped compartment.

  “Can't you see we're standing in a broom closet?”

  “I have eyes, Solomon.”

  “Well, look a little more closely, and you'll see what's really here.” He opened the broom cabinet, pulled the cleaning supplies out, and stacked them neatly. He hit the hidden button on the ceiling, which brought down a succession of stairs, one after the other.