“Count on it,” Mica replied as she continued to thunk.
Beck stood in the cargo hold, his rifle cradled in his arms as he looked toward six robed figures standing at the top of the ramp, mist curling about their legs. Two carried black staffs, like the one Alisa had seen on the station. The others merely had their hands folded into the sleeves of their robes. All had their hoods pulled low, hiding their faces in shadow.
One of those shadowed faces turned toward the stairs and the walkway. A moment later, Alejandro appeared up there. Alisa shivered, having the impression that he might have been somehow compelled to do so, especially since he wore his satchel on his shoulder, the orb box probably tucked inside.
Alisa licked her lips and stepped forward. “I’m Captain Marchenko,” she said, addressing them all since she had no idea which one was in charge. “Can I help you?”
She wanted to say, “Did one of you asteroid kissers kidnap my daughter?” But that seemed like a confrontational way to start a conversation with strangers. She did take some reassurance from the fact that Leonidas, through chance or design, stood at her shoulder, looking fierce in his armor as he glared over at the newcomers.
“We will speak to Yumi Moon,” one robed figure said, one with a feminine voice.
Before Alisa could decide if she wanted to point the way—or protest the fact that the woman had come onto her ship and was making demands—Yumi walked out of engineering.
One of the other Starseers stepped forward, lifting brown-skinned hands and pushing back his hood. His black, wiry hair was pulled back from his face in a hundred thin braids, and he had dark eyes that seemed to bore straight into Alisa’s mind. Maybe that was exactly what they were doing. She would have called him handsome, with a straight nose and full lips, but she was too busy being discomfited by that stare to make more than a note of it. She did not know how she knew, but she was almost positive that this was the same man who had been watching her ship from the station.
“Yumi’s my flashlight holder,” called Mica from engineering, not noticeably intimidated by their guests. “You don’t get her unless you replace her with someone else.”
The male Starseer lifted his eyebrows, looked to someone standing at his side for a long moment, as if they were communicating somehow, and then moved his staff in a slow gesture. The lights came on, and hums and beeps sounded as the ship restarted after its power down.
A clank-thunk came from engineering, followed by Mica swearing.
“My engineer thanks you,” Alisa said calmly, refusing to show any fear or apprehension at the display of power—or the realization that these people were likely the reason the power had not been working in the first place. They had facilitated her crash, a crash in which her people could have been hurt or killed. She worried that Yumi’s name might not be as much of a password to safety as she had hoped.
Leonidas folded his arms over his chest, his expression clearly saying that he was not afraid of these people, either.
Yumi Moon will speak with Ji-yoon, the man said, ignoring Alisa’s comment. The rest of you will come with us.
With a jolt, Alisa realized he had spoken directly into her mind.
Chapter 5
Alisa hated flying with people watching over her shoulder, so having a Starseer standing by her chair, guiding her through the fog, did nothing to improve her mood.
Leonidas also stood near her chair, his armor still on. He was watching the Starseer rather than Alisa or her controls. He was the same man who had spoken in the cargo hold. Leonidas stood closer to him than was probably comfortable for either of them, and she wondered if it was so he would have time to reach out and grab the Starseer’s throat if he tried anything. If so, his brazenness impressed her. She couldn’t imagine lifting a weapon against someone who could turn the ship on and off with a thought. It boggled her mind that normal humans had fought against the Starseers centuries earlier in the Order Wars. They had won, so it was possible, but the idea of flying against someone who could cause her to crash her ship with a thought was definitely unsettling.
“So,” Alisa said, groping for a way to gather some information from their uninvited guest. “How come you can wave your big stick and turn the power on in my ship, but you can’t clear this fog away to make flying easier?”
“It is a Staff of Power,” the man said coolly.
“Not a big stick?”
“No.”
“Okay, so your staff has a name. Do you have a name? I’m perfectly capable of referring to you as the Starseer for the next week—just ask Leonidas here—but since there are multiple Starseers, that might get confusing.”
He continued to stare at the back of her head. Maybe there was something interesting going on back there. She hadn’t looked in a mirror for a while, and crashes weren’t known to be friendly to hairstyles, even simple braids.
The Starseer did not look at Leonidas for confirmation of her tendencies. In fact, she was fairly certain he hadn’t looked at him since they had entered NavCom. He seemed to be doing his best to ignore Leonidas’s existence. The military cyborgs, Alisa recalled, had specifically been designed to fight the Starseers back during the Order Wars.
“Lord Abelardus is my name,” he finally said.
Lord? Was he kidding? What she said out loud was, “Abelardus? I bet that’s fun to rhyme with in a poem.”
It occurred to her that she might want to find someone more diplomatic than she to try to get information from the Starseers. Maybe Yumi would do it. Alisa had a paucity of diplomats on her ship. Mica was even more likely to offend someone with her mouth than she was.
“So, Abelardus. Any chance you can wave your Staff of Power and clear the way ahead so I can see where we’re going?”
“We have no wish to clear the mists. They serve us well. I will ensure that you do not crash. Veer now to the northwest. There’s another mountain ahead.”
Alisa could not see anything but the fog, and her instruments were spinning uselessly, but she obeyed. She had no desire for more close-up encounters with ice-smothered cliffs.
Her cameras were back online, and she glimpsed the six hover sleds turning to follow her. Abelardus and the female Starseer—Ji-yoon—had remained on the ship when the Nomad had taken off, Ji-yoon to speak with Yumi. Alisa wondered if that was her mother. They hadn’t shared a hug or even acknowledged each other back in the cargo hold, but Ji-yoon also hadn’t lowered her hood. The other Starseers had returned to their own transportation, the one-person sleds. Four of those sleds had riders and two were flying themselves, following along with the pack. Even though automated cars and ships were not uncommon, Alisa couldn’t help but think those people were controlling the unmanned sleds with their minds.
“Why do they call you Starseers?” Alisa asked.
“With our mind’s eye, we can gaze into the suns in a way that would blind our physical eyes, and we can see them turning hydrogen into helium and creating massive energy.”
“I guess they didn’t have vid dramas on Kir in the early days, huh?”
Alisa could feel the man gazing at the back of her head, but she was focused on guiding them slowly through the mist and did not turn to gauge his expression. He had the look of a warrior with that staff, and he was probably another one, like Leonidas, who did not appreciate her humor. Whether he did or not, he did not respond. Out of the corner of her eye, she did catch the faintest of smiles from Leonidas. Maybe he appreciated her sarcasm more when it was directed at somebody else.
“Turn back to the southwest,” Abelardus said.
Alisa did so, skimming along about twenty feet above the ice. She was relieved not to be on the ice. She had seen the gaping black hole where the White Dragon ship had been. It had, indeed, sunk. Now that she was in the air, and unlikely to suffer the same fate, she allowed herself to feel slightly relieved about that. Since the ship had disappeared in The Hells’ Leftovers, she hoped the White Dragon wouldn’t necessarily blame Beck—or her. After all,
hundreds, if not thousands, of ships had disappeared in these mists over the centuries, at least according to Leonidas’s encyclopedia article.
Up ahead, the mist cleared slightly. Alisa leaned forward, as if being a couple of inches closer to the view screen would help her see better. A few stars came into view above them. As they continued forward, more of the frozen sea came into view, a tundra of ice stretching ahead of and to the sides of them before disappearing into a horizon of gray fog. The gray was farther away now, but it was still there, and even the stars seemed hazy.
Abelardus directed her to turn the ship a few degrees, and something different came into view, a sprawling structure that floated a hundred feet above the ice. It reminded Alisa of pictures she had seen from Old Earth, part medieval castle and part Taj Mahal, with decorative spires and domes mingling with blocky towers, all surrounded by a bluish-white crenellated wall. Most of the structure had that coloring, as if it were made from ice. Maybe it was.
On one side, a landing dock paralleled the base of the wall with piers sticking out for shuttles and small spaceships to land on. An imperial warship would not have fit into any of the berths, but the Nomad should be able to come down on one of the larger piers. A small squadron of rusty old Strikers, Cobras, and bombers that looked like they had been purchased from a military surplus auction perched on the end of the dock. Apparently, the inhabitants did not use only their minds to defend themselves if someone got through the mists. There were also some small combat ships that Alisa wasn’t familiar with, having hulls the bluish-white of the sea of ice far below. All in all, it was not a huge force, but she could imagine it being sufficient when combined with their mental powers. She wondered how many of the ships that had disappeared over the centuries had actually been shot down.
“Dock there,” Abelardus said, pointing to the landing facility.
As they drew closer, Alisa noticed sophisticated automated artillery weapons along the walls. For people who wandered around the system in robes and sandals, they had some fancy tech here.
She glanced at her comm as she piloted them toward the pier Abelardus indicated, expecting someone to more officially give her permission to land—or not. But maybe the Starseers were chatting back and forth in each other’s heads, and the ones inside already knew all about the Nomad’s arrival.
With Abelardus and Leonidas watching on, Alisa was glad she piloted them onto the pier smoothly. Gravity had challenges that open space did not, and her freighter was anything but aerodynamic and maneuverable. They settled in with a soft thump, open air visible on the cameras to either side. She had no idea what held the floating temple in place. She hadn’t seen any thrusters or typical signs of hover technology under the structure.
“Let’s go,” Abelardus said, striding away from Leonidas and toward the cargo hold and the exit. “Bring your artifact, Dominguez,” she heard him say from the walkway. “My people will want to see it.”
“He may rethink bringing it here,” Leonidas said quietly.
“Because it’s theirs, and they may want it back?”
“If I’m right about its origins, it’s been centuries since it was in their hands, but possibly, yes.”
Alisa unfastened her harness and stood, though she took a few minutes to lock down her controls so nobody else could fly the ship. Maybe it didn’t matter when these people could think the power on and off, but there was no reason to make it easy for someone to steal the Nomad—or tinker with her.
“I’m going to grab a few more weapons from my quarters,” Leonidas said. “Wait for me before following the Starseer.”
“More?” Alisa eyed the rifle slung over his shoulder, the blazer pistols at his hips, and she knew he had a lot more weapons built into his combat armor. He had removed his helmet since returning from the White Dragon ship, but he still wore everything else.
“More,” he said firmly, and strode toward his cabin.
Alisa finished locking down the ship, taking a moment to touch the stuffed spider hanging over the co-pilot’s seat. Her mother had always touched it for luck before takeoff and landing. Alisa had found that silly and superstitious, but she touched it now and thought about how Jelena had never seen it. Once, Alisa had resented the freighter and never expected to see it again. Somehow, the last couple of months had changed her perspective, and she hoped that she got a chance to share it with Jelena. The ship and the spider. Assuming a Starseer in training wasn’t too sophisticated for stuffed toys. Her musings turned uncomfortable as she imagined Jelena speaking into her mind, and maybe even reading her thoughts, the way Abelardus had.
“Alisa?” Leonidas asked from the corridor, his voice muffled slightly by the helmet that he once again wore. Whatever he expected from the temple, it wasn’t someone greeting him with open arms.
Alisa strode out to join him. She had Starseers to question. This was not the time to delay.
“Nice grenade launcher,” she said, noting the largest of the weapons he had added to his panoply. “If they don’t tell me where they took my daughter, maybe you can blow up one of their pretty spired towers.”
Leonidas’s eyebrows rose behind his faceplate.
“That’s the kind of thing a gentleman does for a lady. And if you don’t consider me a lady, then that’s also the kind of thing a good passenger does for his pilot.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as they headed for the exit.
Alisa did not see the robed woman skulking in the cargo hold, but Yumi was at the pen, cooing to her chickens as she refilled their water dish. Alejandro stood next to the ramp, grimacing as the birds squawked enthusiastically, sending feathers flying. They seemed particularly jubilant. Maybe they were making up for their subdued hour spent in the mists.
Someone had opened the hatch already and lowered the ramp. Thankfully, eerie mist was not seeping into the ship this time. Had Abelardus already gone out to meet with his people? Alisa did not see him.
Alejandro turned toward Leonidas as he and Alisa approached, looking a touch relieved. Alisa wagered that wasn’t the expression most people wore when they saw a cyborg in combat armor striding toward them while carrying a grenade launcher. Alejandro probably hoped to hide behind him out there.
“Leonidas has agreed to blow up a tower for me,” Alisa said. “If you say nice things to him, he may blow one up for you too. To facilitate cooperation from the Starseers.”
Alejandro frowned at her attempt at humor. “I don’t think you can strong-arm these people.”
“But can you strong-grenade them?”
“You’re an eccentric woman, Captain.”
“And yet you keep flying places with me. Is it possible you’re not the most normal soul yourself?”
“No.”
Beck appeared on the walkway and jogged down the stairs. He wore three jackets and a fluffy fur cap that looked like it might have been forgotten in a remote corner of the Nomad by a passenger decades earlier. He was not in his combat armor, carrying only his knife and a pair of blazer pistols. He looked at Leonidas in his gleaming red suit and seemed surprised.
“We dressing up for a fight?” Beck asked.
“I’m hoping that won’t be necessary,” Alisa said.
Leonidas rested his hand on his grenade launcher and said nothing.
“Maybe the mech just wants to stay warm.” Beck eyed the open hatch, then rubbed his arms through his multiple layers of sleeves. “It’s cold enough to breed polar fangcats out there.”
“What?” Alejandro asked.
“You haven’t heard that expression?”
“Polar fangcats only mate at temperatures of negative fifty degrees and below,” Yumi said, finishing with her chickens and walking over to join them. “It’s believed it’s because of the length of their gestation period. Mating in the dead of winter ensures their babies will be born in the warmth of summer, when the temperature averages negative twenty. That’s in the south pole though. The north pole is balmy in comparison.”
“Balmy. Sure.” Beck rubbed his sleeves and eyed Leonidas’s armor again. Climate-controlled armor.
Yumi headed down the ramp, waving to someone. Was the female Starseer waiting for her?
A clang came from engineering, and Alisa called, “Mica, are you going to join us for this friendly meeting with interesting people?”
“You don’t pay me enough to deal with Starseers,” Mica called back.
“I did get you that new tank.”
“You got that for yourself. It’s your ship.”
“Are you sure? You’re the one who cuddles with it.”
Perhaps talking about their distaste for Starseers wasn’t a good idea with the hatch open. Alisa could not see anyone from her position—the ramp led down to a landing pad that appeared to be made from variegated glass tiles—but she heard voices murmuring to each other. Yumi had already gone off to the side.
Alejandro sighed, either at the magnitude of what he was about to do or at the silly conversation. “Let’s go, Leonidas.”
He started down the ramp, but he paused to look back and make sure Leonidas was following before going far.
“Such a brave man,” Alisa muttered. “Beck, unless you’re itching to see if any of the Starseers keep fangcats for pets, why don’t you stay here and keep an eye on Mica and the ship?”
“Can I do that with the hatch closed and the heat on, Captain?”
“Yes. In fact, I’d prefer the hatch to be closed. If anyone tries to get on the ship, let me know about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a brief salute before sticking his hands under his armpits.
Alisa hurried to catch up with Leonidas and Alejandro and followed them down, pulling her jacket tight since the air was every bit as chilly as one would expect from the north pole.
The people who she had heard talking came into view. Six tall, fit men in Starseer robes stood in a row to the side of the ramp, each one holding one of those black staffs, the butts resting on the ground. Other Starseers that Alisa had seen in person or on vids had worn the black robes in such a way that they fully obscured their bodies, usually with the hoods up. The hoods were down on these men, and the robes were open in front, revealing fitted gray or white vests that showed off muscular chests. Alisa had always imagined the Starseers as crazy old men who relied upon their minds for everything and did not bother lifting so much as a pen with their fingers, so seeing people who clearly exercised surprised her. They weren’t as thickly muscled as a cyborg, but they definitely looked like warriors rather than scholars. More than warriors, she realized, as they scrutinized her, Alejandro, and Leonidas—especially Leonidas. Guards. These people looked like they were here to deal with trouble if it arose.
Starseers: Fallen Empire, Book 3 Page 6
