All the Stars Left Behind

by Ashley Graham

  Oline laughed at him. “I’ve known you for a long time. Yeah, you’re bad at reading signs, even when they have blinking lights and are right against your noses. Like Leda.”

  “Come on, how was I supposed to know she was the weapon—”

  “I’m not talking about her being the weapon. No one knew that. I’m talking about the way she looks at you.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  But even if she did feel like that, he’d seen her pull away. He’d tried to live for a purpose beyond finding the weapon and look what had happened. He’d not only lost his heart, he’d lost her.

  He raised his eyes to the ceiling, took his tablet, and headed for his room. He wasn’t sure what Oline meant, and right now, he didn’t have the heart to dive into another line of mental inquiry. The few storms inside his head were enough to deal with.

  He had seven days to find Leda and come up with an alternate plan, and he couldn’t do it half dead from exhaustion. But he lay awake and stared at the ceiling. He knew what he had to do. They’d tell him he was foolish, that it would likely get him killed. But if he managed to get Leda back and finished the original plan, none of that mattered—

  Someone banged on his door.

  Roar groaned as he rolled from the bed and went to the door. The hammering on his door grew louder and more insistent. He didn’t bother checking to see who was there. Only one person on Equinox could knock constantly and with that much force. Leda had tried, but her knock had been more annoying than forceful.

  A fraction of a second after the door opened, Arne barged into the room. He paced, one hand stuffed in his beard, the other in a fist at his side. Anger rolled off him like solar flares. He stormed an ellipse once, twice. Then he faced Roar, bright fury in his eyes.

  “You’d leave her on her own. Out here.”

  Roar scraped a palm down his jaw. “Oline told you.”

  “You’re damned right, she told me! How can you sleep, knowing you’re planning on abandoning my niece?”

  “I’m not abandoning anyone.” Roar went to the open door and checked the hall, making sure no one was lurking. He backed into his room and hit the lock to ensure they were alone. “I have a plan, okay? I spent all night coming up with it, and when this is all over, I’ll be labeled a traitor, but for Leda, it’s worth it.”

  Arne paused, absorbing this new information. “You’re not leaving her?”

  “No way in hell.” Roar squeezed his fists tight. The nails bit into his palms. “But I’ll need a little help—”

  Arne cut him off. “Whatever it is, count me in. Tell me what we’re going to do.”

  “Listen, no. This is something I have to do on my—”

  “You’re going to count me in. And in return, I’m going to tell you the truth about why you can’t be with Leda.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  In and out of sleep, troubled by haunting dreams, Leda finally woke with a start. She was on her back, the surface beneath her somewhat soft. Dull throbbing spread over much of her face, and her upper arms stung. She didn’t try to sit up. At first the world looked blurry and gray. After a few minutes of blinking, her eyes came into focus. Still in the cell on the other ship. Leda shut her eyes and a few tears squeezed past her lashes. She’d hoped it was all a nightmare.

  But this is real.

  Recalling Tuva’s threat, she checked her hands. Both still there. And legs and feet, all her toes and fingers. Intact for now. She pulled the blankets back up to her chest and breathed out a sigh of relief. But Tuva would be coming for her again. It was only a matter of time.

  Leda needed to find a way to Aurelis, a planet she had never been to before, with technology she had little knowledge of, using the cryptic information her dad had given her since childhood in the form of mathematic equations and problems. Suddenly the dream of solving or disproving the Riemann hypothesis seemed like a distant memory.

  A whisper of a sound at the front of her cell sharpened Leda’s awareness. She had no weapons to use in defense, but a well-timed heel of the palm to the nose worked wonders. Or so the YouTube self-defense video Dad made her watch had said. Bend your wrist backward, the instructor had said, hold your hand in front of your shoulder, arm reared back, and strike your opponent’s nose in an upward motion.

  Under the blankets, Leda slid her right arm up, slowly, a cobra preparing to attack. Hamit had been kind to her, but he was still an obstacle, and he’d never let her go. She used that, plus the furious memories of Tuva’s attack, and Stein’s betrayal as her fuel.

  Leda had moved her hand up to her ribs when Stein’s face came into view. The urge to scrape her nails across his cheek and make him bleed was a wild animal inside of her.

  “If you want to escape, now’s our chance.” He glanced over his shoulder. “The guards are out, but I don’t know how long it’ll last.”

  Too shocked to form words, Leda gave her head a shake. Tuva must have scrambled her brains with that reader thing.

  As though sensing her unease, Stein knelt beside the bed and helped Leda sit. She swung her arm, hoping for the best, but the blow, a soft tap, landed on Stein’s chest. He laughed. “You’ll need that fighting spirit. Keep it up.” He handed her a small gray container and opened it for her. Inside were several colored cubes. “Food,” he said.

  Leda fixed a hard glare on Stein. “Poison?”

  “No.” He picked one at random and popped it into his mouth. “And it isn’t spiked with greckle, either, like the stuff Hamit brought you earlier.”

  She eyed the container. “What’s greckle?”

  “It’s the paste made from greckle flowers on Aurelis. Gives you nightmares.”

  Glad I didn’t eat much of it then. Leda’s stomach clenched, desperate for some nutrition. She snatched a blue cube and tested the flavor on the tip of her tongue. “It tastes like…nothing.”

  Stein nodded. “The best ones have no flavor. Eat up.”

  She took a small handful and popped them into her mouth. Within seconds of swallowing, she felt full, and even a little rejuvenated.

  “That should be enough for now.” Stein pocketed the container. “I’m going to carry you. The shuttle’s waiting.”

  He stood and moved his shoulder to her stomach, planning on carrying her fireman-style. Leda used the last of her strength to push herself away from him, until her back touched the rear cell wall. “Why are you doing this? Is it a trick?”

  Stein straightened. “No trick. I made a mistake and trusted the wrong people. Now I’m hoping I can make up for it.” He held out a hand. “Are you coming? Or would you rather wait for another opportunity that might not come?”

  She didn’t trust him, but he was right: opportunities like this were rare. She could either go with him now, or try to escape on her own. Leda liked her chances with the snake better than without him. “Don’t be a prick.” Leda slapped her hand over his. “Get me out of here. But you’re not off the hook.”

  Stein pulled Leda up and hoisted her over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  In the hall outside her cell, Leda saw a guard whose name she didn’t know slumped in his chair. He looked like he was fast asleep. So did the guy a few feet away, but he was leaning over a half-wall, like he’d just dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep at the flick of a switch.

  “I stunned them,” Stein said. “They should be out for an hour or so.”

  Every step he took jostled Leda, and she had to keep holding her breath so she wouldn’t toss whatever was in her stomach. Her head pounded with her erratic pulse and Stein’s sharp footfalls on the hard floors. At least Equinox had carpets. This ship’s floors were stark white, the reflections from bright lights overhead danced on the floor and made Leda see white spots. She shut her eyes and held her lips firm as Stein ran.

  After a few minutes, he came to a halt and turned right. Instantly the brightness seemed less intense, even behind closed lids. Leda blinked. They were in a shuttle bay, empty except f
or one pod near the open bay doors. Stein set Leda on her feet next to a console and reached underneath. He pulled out two small cases, the same size as the one Tuva had carried before, and Leda’s heart kicked up a storm.

  Stein must have seen the fear in her eyes. “They’re RomTek suits,” he said. “Just in case.”

  She watched as he unclipped each case and took out a suit like the ones Leda and Roar wore for their spacewalk, the day before everything went to hell. Stein handed one to Leda and she put it on, the stiff plates melding together as she pulled it up to her neck, creating a solid exoskeleton that bent and flexed as needed. Inside the suit, she felt strong, whole. Capable of anything.

  “Helmets?” she said, looking around for them.

  “Right here.” Stein handed her a small disc. At her confused stare, he laughed. “Hold it like this.” He placed the coin in her palm, keeping her fingers flat. Then he tapped it twice, and the coin shimmered. A few seconds later, she was holding a helmet. “One of my dad’s designs. Cool, huh?”

  “Definitely.” Leda pulled the helmet on with a click and was connected to the systems, just like before. She had no time to think about Stein and his dad. “Can we get out of here now?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Stein put his helmet on and Leda heard his breathing through the comm link. She wasn’t 100 percent ready to trust him, but right now, he was her only chance of getting off this ship in one piece.

  “When I open the door, make a run for the shuttle and get strapped in.” Through his visor, Stein shot Leda a stern look. “Don’t look back, don’t hesitate, not for anything. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  He turned to the console and typed in a command. A second later, a narrow door next to Leda swished open. She didn’t think—she just ran, her movements jerky at first, but they smoothed out by the time she reached the shuttle. There were four seats inside, identical to the shuttle she and Petrus flew up to Equinox from Earth. Leda dropped into one of the chairs at the front, near the big screen and helm panel.

  She sensed Stein before she heard him. The suit’s neural link. These things were ah-mazing.

  When Stein was inside the shuttle, the door clicked shut, and a second later, he strapped in at the chair on her left. He went straight to work on the controls while she watched. The neural link told her that the air in the shuttle was safe to breathe. Leda removed her helmet.

  “This is going to be a little dicey,” Stein muttered, working the controls.

  “Dicey?” Leda hooked her thumbs in the restraints around her chest. “Anything you want me to do?”

  Stein didn’t reply, too focused on takeoff procedures. He pressed a button on his wrists and the gloves retracted into a cuff. Then he rested his palms on the soft mounds at the end of the armrests. With nothing to do, Leda fixed her attention on the viewscreen ahead. She could see the shuttle was moving, but inertial dampeners kept her from feeling any motion.

  She leaned back in her seat, released her iron grip on the armrests, and shut her eyes for a few minutes. Once they were clear of the ship, she’d find a way to contact Equinox, then search the shuttle’s computers for any mention of Aurelis, where it was, and how to get there.

  “What the hell?” A sharp crack filled the shuttle. Stein must have kicked the console in front of him. He swore.

  Leda flashed her eyes open. “What is it?”

  Stein pressed his hands into the jelly on the armrests, his knuckles going white. “We’re not going anywhere.” Stein cursed and unclipped his harness. “They’ve locked us down.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “They know we’re trying to escape, and they’ve grounded the shuttle. Clamped it down.” He slammed his fist into the shuttle wall.

  “Like that’s going to help.” Leda unclipped her harness and stood. “Think rationally. Is there a way to disable the clamps from the inside of the shuttle?”

  He considered the question, then shook his head. “Not unless the clamp controls receive a specific signal.”

  The wall beside Leda exploded in a shower of sparks. She raised her arms up, shielding her face. The lights in the shuttle flickered.

  “Damn it, they’re firing.” Stein flipped his seat up, revealing a small storage locker. Inside were two weapons—a handgun and what looked like a smaller version of a rocket launcher. He secured the long weapon to his back and tucked the handgun in a holster that popped out on his thigh. He motioned for Leda to do the same.

  As she checked under her seat, Leda said, “Is there a way to short out the clamps, even for a second?”

  A pause. “There might be. Are you any good with chips?”

  “Like the food?”

  Stein smirked. “No, they’re the type of tech the shuttles use.” He returned his chair to normal, then moved to the middle of the shuttle. On the floor, he pressed a series of buttons on a small panel, and the panel lifted up. Moving the panel aside, he motioned to the opening. “Those are chips.”

  Leda knelt down and peered inside the hole. The “chips” were almost like microchips on Earth, with one exception: she couldn’t see any metal on them. Each chip was clear, like the panels and consoles in the shuttle and on Equinox, with a little dot of color in the center, surrounded by silvery lines. Microscopic wires.

  “What do I do with them?”

  Another blast hit the shuttle. It rocked, knocking Leda across the floor. Her head slammed into the base of a chair and sharp, icy pain erupted. Stars flashed in her vision.

  Stein yanked Leda to her feet. “You all right?”

  She found the buttons on the suit’s wrists and the gloves vanished, freeing her hands. Touching the back of her head revealed a little blood, but she could still see straight. “I’ll live.”

  He nodded. “It’s fairly simple. Take the radmere and vithium chips, and strip the wires. The casings come off pretty easy with the sharp edge of a fingernail. Attach the bare wires by pressing them together. They’re so delicate that the heat from your fingers will fuse them. Then plug the vithium chip back in, which will create a bridge for the empty chip slot. That should have the effect we’re hoping for.”

  Leda stared at him blankly. “Uh, what are radmere and vithium?”

  “Oh right. Radmere’s red, vithium’s purple. Should be easy enough to remember, yeah?”

  “Radmere, red. Got it.”

  “Good.” Stein positioned himself by the door and raised his handgun. “I’ll keep these guys off our tails in the meantime.”

  There were seventeen chips in all, each the length of her thumb and as thin as a Post-it note. She checked each chip until she found the red and purple ones, then pulled them out and got to work. The wires were so small her eyes focused and unfocused as she looked at them. Leda blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath.

  You can do this.

  By the door, Stein hit the switch, and the door opened a fraction. He took aim and fired.

  Leda gave the open panel her undivided attention. Using her thumbnail, Leda gently scraped away the clear coating on the wires of the radmere chip, until they unfurled like tiny snakes. When she finished, the first set of wires were about a half inch longer than the edge of the chip. Sweat gathered at her hairline and under her arms. She set the radmere chip down carefully, then got started on the vithium one.

  A blast rattled the shuttle, and Leda nearly dropped the chip. Her heart rear-ended her rib cage as she held the chip tight, raising her nail to strip the wires. She paused when she saw Stein shove the gun in his thigh holster and swap it for the rocket launcher thing strapped on his back.

  “How’re we doing over there?” he called as he rested the weapon on his shoulder and took aim.

  Leda went back to stripping the wires. “Nearly done.”

  Another hail of fire, and sparks flashed around her. Stein fired back and must have hit his mark. He hissed a triumphant sound at the same moment a strangled cry bubbled in the air.

  Ignoring him
, Leda held the two chips next to one another. When the wires were lined up, she carefully pressed them between her fingers, until the chips were connected. The chip with the red dot blinked. The purple dot grew brighter. Here goes nothing. Leda put the vithium chip back in its slot, resting the radmere chip on the others, and waited.

  Nothing happened. She hung her head in failure.

  Stein cursed as a bright blue jolt whizzed past him and hit the shuttle’s tactical station behind Leda. She ducked away from the sparks.

  “You done yet?”

  Leda reached for her handgun. No way she’d go back to that cell without a fight. “It didn’t work.” She stepped up beside him.

  Stein fired at a guard running for the shuttle. “You need to complete the process.”

  There were somewhere in the region of twelve guards outside. Leda failed to see them making it out of the shuttle in once piece. “How?”

  “Replace the panel, then at the front of the shuttle, get on systems, pull up docking procedures, and type in the command I tell you to.” He looked down at his gun, then tossed it aside and held his hand out for hers.

  Leda relinquished her weapon and ducked just in time for another shot, this one hitting the wall above tactical. She grabbed the panel and closed it, pressing the four buttons at each corner, until they were flush with the rest of the floor. Then Leda crouched and hobbled over to the main console. Activating the panel was a cinch: all she had to do was touch it and it came to life. She located docking procedures and let Stein know she had it open.

  He ducked, narrowly missing a shot. “Type in the following code.” He rattled off a string of numbers and letters, and Leda pressed them.

  When she finished, a mechanical grinding sound filled the shuttle. Two heavy clinks, then a thud.

  Stein hit the button for the door and it closed. “Can you drive this thing?”

  Leda had watched Petrus pilot a shuttle from Earth, and seen how Uncle Arne had done it when they carted supplies up to Equinox. “I can try.”

  Stein dropped into the chair in front of tactical. “Good. I’ll keep these guys off our tail.”