Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

  And all the while, part of him had known exactly where Diana was. From the moment his feet had hit the decking, his attention had gone to her, like a compass to a magnet.

  Horrifyingly, she was, indeed, aboard the Valiant.

  Thankfully, she seemed unharmed.

  And then Breggy had put a blade to her throat, and Derek’s brain went white with anger. And pure purpose.

  Trusting Nails to fire if given an opening, he’d swung himself back inside the Vesper. He was the last chance, the failsafe if they couldn’t get Diana out of Breggy’s clutches.

  “Steady on,” Director Quinn murmured, just loudly enough for Derek to hear him, as he set his lightpistol down. “Here they come.”

  Breggy’s smug tones sounded just outside the door, and Tipper’s cry was the signal for Derek to get ready. He took a deep breath.

  The gangrunner backed into the Vesper, holding Diana.

  Praying the knife wouldn’t slip, Derek dropped onto the man’s head.

  “Agh!” Breggy yelled as they went down. The knife in his hand glinted, blessedly blood-free.

  “Get back,” Derek said to Diana.

  The moment she scrambled free, he used his stunclub on Breggy, at the highest setting. Regretfully, it wouldn’t be enough to kill the gangrunner, but his eyes rolled back in his head and his body slumped to the Vesper’s deck.

  “Derek,” Diana said. Just his name, but it was everything.

  Their gazes met, and everything he could not say he hoped was in his eyes.

  Then Tipper was there, arms going about Diana’s waist, and the colonel was directing his men to drag Breggy’s body back to his cell.

  Diana turned to Director Quinn, hovering in the doorway.

  “We must leave, immediately,” she said. “Or we’re stuck on the Valiant for months.”

  “The Y-Drive,” he said. “I knew it was a risk, but we had to take it.”

  “I can’t allow you to depart,” the colonel said. “We’re engaging the jump in...” He glanced up at the chronometer mounted on the Valiant’s wall. “Six minutes. There’s no time to get clear.”

  “We have to get back to Earth,” Derek said, pulse hammering in his throat. “There’s an imminent threat to the spaceport.”

  “There is?” Director Quinn gave him a sharp look.

  “Yes. A terrorist group is planning to bomb the port next weekend.”

  “Tell me more—wait, we’ve no time.” The director turned to Colonel Blake. “Can you still get a message back to Earth?”

  The colonel shook his head. “All long-range communications have been automatically shut down. They interfere with the Y-Drive’s mechanics.”

  “And once the drive’s engaged, there’s no hope of contact.” Director Quinn’s voice was bleak.

  “We can get back.” Diana pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. “It’s dangerous, of course, but I’ve run the calculations. There’s a good chance we can use the Y-Drive blast to propel us around Jupiter and back on course to Earth—but we need to depart immediately.”

  “Let’s go, then.” Director Quinn beckoned to Nails and Tipper. “Everyone, inside. Strap down.”

  Colonel Blake folded his arms. “I really must protest—”

  “I override your concerns,” Director Quinn said. “As Director of the Galactic Spaceport of Southampton, I outrank you.”

  “But do you trust this young lady’s calculations?” The colonel shot Diana a troubled glance.

  “With my life,” Director Quinn said. “Obviously. Come everyone, quickly now.” He settled his goggles more firmly on his head.

  “I don’t—”

  “Open the hatch, commander. Or I’m afraid we might leave a nasty hole in your ship. And tell your control room to make ready for the Vesper’s immediate liftoff.”

  27

  Diana glanced at the page of calculations she held in her trembling fingers, then at the countdown clock on the Valiant’s wall. Five minutes.

  “Very well,” Colonel Blake said. “You may depart, but for the record, I protest this action.” He made the director a stiff bow, then retreated to the glassed-in control room.

  “Hurry,” Diana said under her breath.

  If they delayed much longer, it would be certain death.

  But if they stayed aboard the Valiant, hundreds of people at the spaceport would die. They had to take the chance.

  “Missy Smythe, take navigation.” Director Quinn nodded toward the right-hand seat of the cockpit

  Feeling ungainly in her skirts, Diana quickly clambered forward and settled in the indicated chair. Behind them, the hatch closed with a quiet clang. Everyone strapped in, and they waited for the hangar bay doors to open.

  “Attention, Vesper.” The colonel’s voice crackled through the comm speaker. “Four minutes until Y-Drive blast. You’ll be cleared for takeoff in ten seconds.”

  The countdown began. Diana looked once more at her paper, covered with scribbled equations, arcs and sines.

  “We need to align ourselves along the side of the Valiant,” she said as the director started the engine. “About midway down the ship, at a forty-degree angle, with Jupiter on our right.”

  “Starboard, forty-degrees,” Director Quinn confirmed.

  “And go,” the colonel’s voice sounded from the comm. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

  The Vesper rose smoothly through the open bay doors, and Diana caught her breath at the sight of the stars blazing outside the cockpit window. She’d never seen anything as beautiful as that clear, cold brilliance. The planets floated, larger spheres of color arranged around the bright orb of the sun. Nearest of all was Jupiter; huge and baleful, watching with one red eye.

  Fingers tense, she glanced down at her calculations. She was betting their lives on those figures, and her breath caught at the knowledge. What if she were wrong?

  No.

  She must trust herself, and Director Quinn’s piloting skills, to bring them safely home.

  “One and a half minutes until Y-Drive engages,” Colonel Blake said over the comm.

  It was not enough time.

  It was an eternity.

  Diana’s pulse pounded through her while outside the stars watched, uncaring that five fragile human lives were at stake. Jupiter waited, ready to pull them in and crush them if they veered even the slightest bit off course.

  Director Quinn nosed the Vesper forward above the larger ship’s dark metal exterior, until Diana held up her hand. Matching their speed to the Valiant, he began angling the ship’s nose out. He was an excellent pilot, and the knowledge helped take the edge off her teeth-gritting anxiety.

  “Sixty seconds.”

  She glanced down at her calculations, triple-checking them once more.

  “Ready, back there?” the director called over his shoulder.

  “Aye,” Tipper called, while Nails murmured her assent.

  Diana turned, meeting Derek’s gaze. It held nothing but unwavering trust, and that steadied her even more.

  “Thirty seconds.”

  “Full acceleration until we reach apogee,” Diana reminded the director.

  It was hard to wait, when every nerve was screaming at her they had to go, now. But the strange geometry of the Y-Drive’s blastoff wake made it far safer for the Vesper to ride atop the blast, rather than wait for it to smash them out of space and into Jupiter’s waiting arms.

  “Then hard to starboard, curving around Jupiter and back home.” Director Quinn nodded at her. “We’ll be back in my office in time for tea.”

  She rather desperately hoped so.

  The comm crackled to life once more, counting the seconds down. Five, four, three, two.

  One.

  Zero.

  Light flared around them. Director Quinn punched the acceleration, his hands steady on the controls. The Vesper leaped forward like a startled creature. The entire ship shuddered back and forth and Diana braced herself, white-fingered, against the edge of th
e control board. Something clanged loose in the cabin, and she heard Derek bite back a curse.

  To their right, Jupiter loomed, the strident colors seeming to pulse. White, orange, dark, light. The Vesper was moving too slowly, and Diana shot a look at the director.

  “Faster,” she murmured.

  “I can’t.” His voice was strained.

  The secondary blast was going to catch them. If they couldn’t get behind Jupiter, the turbulence would throw them right into the gas giant. And once in Jupiter’s grasp, there was no escape. She leaned forward and scanned their trajectory. The stars seemed to draw lines in her head, pointing the way.

  “Head closer to the planet,” she said to the director, her throat tight. “Veer until I tell you to stop.”

  It was risky, to try and skip like a stone over the outermost edge of Jupiter’s atmosphere, but it was their last chance. Director Quinn nodded and eased the Vesper closer to their doom.

  “Hold on,” Diana called over her shoulder. Her voice sounded shrill in her ears.

  The ship bucked, and her stomach rose. She swallowed, hard. Now the Vesper was a fish on a tangled line, caught between the pull of Jupiter and the raging turbulence of the Y-Drive’s backwash. They could do it though—they had to.

  “Ease out,” she said, wishing she knew how to fly a ship.

  Since she couldn’t, she balled her hands into tight fists and fixed all her attention on the view outside the cockpit. A trickle of perspiration slid down the back of her neck.

  The stars blurred as they danced on the edge of Jupiter’s gravity.

  And then, suddenly, the horrible shaking stopped. Diana glanced down, to see the curve of Jupiter floating majestically below them.

  On their left, the galaxy shimmered, as though viewed through water. Slowly, the stars quieted as the last of the Valiant’s wake flew past.

  “Head out two degrees,” she whispered, knowing the director would hear her and correct the Vesper’s course.

  “Done,” he said, just as quietly.

  One last hiccup rocked the ship as they slipped free of Jupiter’s hook. The planet’s edge receded, its ghastly colors relegated to nightmares. The Vesper was safe, a silver minnow back in the vast waters of space.

  “Can we go home now?” Tipper asked plaintively.

  “Yes.” Director Quinn shot Diana a smile. “Plot a course for earth please, Miss Smythe.”

  She stared down at the dials and knobs on the navigation panel. “I don’t know how.”

  “Oh, but you do. Look.” He lifted a hand, pointing at the blue droplet of Earth hanging in the star-spattered dark.

  And with his guidance, hands steady on the controls, she discovered that, indeed, she could take them home.

  28

  Derek held tight to his seat as the Vesper slid into its private hanger in the Southampton Spaceport. Back on Earth. The relief of it warred with the knowledge of what he must do, whirling like a black hole in his soul. He’d helped save Diana, only to lose her again.

  Not to kidnapping or gangrunners, this time. No—she’d go on, living her brilliant, beautiful life, while he sank like a stone beneath icy waters.

  He knew that Molly had meant every word about taking him down if he exposed the INR’s plot. But he had no other choice.

  “Here we are,” Director Quinn said, back to his usual jovial self. “Everyone out.”

  Tipper was first through the hatch, followed by Nails. With stiff fingers, Derek undid the buckles holding him to his chair. Part of him had expected to die, out there in space.

  And when he hadn’t, during the quiet trip back to Earth he’d wrestled with the choices he’d made. The future he faced because of them, and the bitter consequences he must endure.

  At least Diana was safe, and the spaceport would be as well. It was cold comfort, but still, he took it.

  Director Quinn gave Derek a pointed look as he ducked out of the Vesper, and then it was just the two of them left inside. Derek and Diana.

  “Well,” she said, coming aft and settling on the chair next to his. “Here we are.”

  Damnú, she was beautiful. The intelligence in her clear gray eyes, the honey-colored strands of hair loose about her face, her stubborn chin and calm perseverance—everything combined to make her more dear to him than he could say.

  And, in fact, he never would. It was one small pain he could spare Diana. No matter how she might feel about him, she did not need to hear him profess his love and then see him consigned to a prison cell. Or worse. With a flash of dark humor, he wondered if he’d have been better off simply staying aboard the Valiant.

  “Yes,” he said, echoing her words. “Here we are.”

  “How did you find me? When I woke up inside the Valiant, I thought I was done for.” She caught her breath, a sharp intake of memory.

  He wanted to pummel Lord Atkinson bloody for causing her such pain.

  “Tipper came to tell me you’d disappeared,” he said. “We both knew you wouldn’t just leave without a word.”

  “I promised, don’t you remember? Tipper’s as dear as family to me now.” She shook her head, as if trying to reconcile herself to the fact, then reached and set one of her hands on his. “And Derek, you—”

  “We went to the spaceport,” he said. “Lord Atkinson was there, and I guessed by his actions that he’d somehow managed to kidnap you and put you aboard the Valiant. Luckily for all of us, I was right.”

  The feel of her hand on his, warm and secure, made his throat ache. His heart was scorching in his chest, and he could not bear to hear her say she cared for him. She’d lost enough, already.

  “I owe you my life,” she said, leaning forward.

  Too close. The clean smell of her skin made his heart race, and all he wanted to do was kiss her. Which was a disastrous idea.

  “And we owe Director Quinn, too.” Derek awkwardly rose and sidled around her chair. “We should go thank him, together.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment shadowed her expression. “But after that, perhaps we—”

  “I also need to tell the director and Nails about the plot to bomb the spaceport.”

  And after that, you’ll despise me.

  He’d been lying all along, and he didn’t think she could forgive him for that. He couldn’t forgive himself for the way the INR had used him, either. What a blind, bloody fool he’d been.

  Derek disembarked from the Vesper, but couldn’t help waiting for her, offering his hand in assistance as she stepped out of the hatch. Just one more touch. One more memory to take away with him to whatever dark place he was bound.

  They joined the others at the lift. When they arrived at the top floor, Director Quinn ushered them into the conference room and sent his secretary for tea.

  “Sit down,” he said, gesturing.

  They settled around the table: Tipper and Nails, Director Quinn. And Diana. Derek was the last to take his seat.

  “First off,” the director said, “I must congratulate each and every one of you for that extraordinary rescue mission.”

  “Don’t forget yourself,” Tipper piped up. “We’d still be stuck on Earth if it wasn’t for you and the Vesper.”

  “We all played our part,” Director Quinn said. “And now, Derek, please tell us about this plot against the spaceport that you discovered.”

  Nails gave a sharp nod. “Good police work there, I’d say.”

  The irony stung the back of Derek’s throat.

  “Not so much. You see, I know about the plot because…” He swallowed, hard. “Because I’m the one that provided the information to the terrorists to begin with.”

  “What?” Nails half rose, one hand going to her stun cuff.

  Good instincts there, but then, he already knew he trusted her implicitly in a fight.

  “Explain,” Director Quinn said.

  Derek squeezed his eyes shut a moment, and then opened them. He fixed his gaze on the director’s face, as he couldn’t bear to look at Diana.


  “I’ve been working for the INR all along,” he said. “I joined the Southampton Police in order to infiltrate the spaceport and gather information.”

  Each word was a heavy stone dropped into his body, until he could scarcely take the weight. There was no use trying to explain what he thought the INR was going to do with the knowledge. The fact of the matter was, he’d broken the law in any number of ways.

  Nails narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you certain?”

  That prompted a bitter bark of laughter. “Aye. I knew what I was doing.”

  “How could you?” Tipper asked, his voice wobbling.

  “I was a fool.” Finally, Derek forced himself to meet Diana’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  She watched him calmly, but he could see the deep hurt in her eyes.

  “Were you simply using me all along, then?” she asked.

  “No.” Further excuses dried in his throat. “Arrest me. I’ll gladly tell you everything I know about the others involved.”

  “Molly,” Diana said.

  “Yes.” He wasn’t surprised that her quick mind was already seeing the patterns.

  “I have to take you into custody,” Nails said. She didn’t look happy about it.

  “But Derek saved Di!” Tipper turned to Nails, his eyes wide. “He can’t just go to prison.”

  “The entire thing is incredibly complicated.” Director Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression more troubled than Derek had ever seen. “Please, give us everything you can about the INR’s plans. It’s of paramount importance to stop this attack.”

  “Of course.” Derek rose and held out his arm for the stun cuff.

  Nails got to her feet, frowning at him. “I trust you to come quietly.”

  Head bowed, he followed her to the door.

  “Sir?” The director’s secretary peered around Nails where she stood blocking the threshold. “You have a visitor—a Viscount Smythe. May I show him in?”

  “Is he related to our Miss Smythe?” the director asked.

  “He claims to be, sir.”

  “Might be a trap,” Nails said. She glanced at Derek. “Sit back down. I’ll formally arrest you, after we hear what this fellow has to say.”