by Jamie Zakian
“That’s the future of mankind walking onto that spacebus. If they don’t make it to Mars, our species will cease to exist. You have to get them to that planet safely. You’re the last hope of humanity, Captain Stone.”
Chapter Two
Jesse stepped off the steel-grated walkway and onto the carpeted floor of the R23 Raven spacebus. Joey clung to his arm, but he didn’t care; he was actually happy she hovered. Her touch always brought a strength to his bones, one that diminished in her absence. It was a good thing they both won the lottery, because neither his mother nor the U.N.E. could have forced him on this voyage without her.
He ran his fingertips along the velvety wall, his legs moving deeper into a crammed corridor. He followed the shimmer of an arched ceiling when Joey yanked him to a stop. Snickers filled his ears, and he looked ahead, his nose nearly buried in a man’s chest.
“All loose objects are to be secured in your assigned lockers to the right,” the man shouted over the chatter, gesturing to the wide doorway beside him.
Jesse ducked his head, squeezed Joey’s hand tighter, and cut the corner. They walked into a large square room, lined with hundreds of skinny metal doors, and Joey released her hold.
People hooted, laughed, some girl in LED-trimmed clothes danced in the corner, and Jesse grinned. He leaned to the side, his gaze entranced on the scene, and whispered, “Okay. Now I’m totally freakin’ out.”
He looked over to find a tall, blond, and unreasonably gorgeous girl beside him. Her lips rose into a smirk, the overhead light amplifying her frosty blue eyes. “You better calm down then, cowboy,” she teased before strolling away.
The room bustled around him, yet he stood stock-still. He couldn’t stop staring at the girl, so confident in her every stride. Heat stirred inside his chest only to be snuffed out by an elbow to the ribcage.
“Look at you, big-time baller,” Joey said, lugging him toward a corner. “I found our lockers.”
“This is surreal,” Jesse said, mostly to himself.
“Tell me about it. Who knew you were so social?”
Joey’s giggle took his shoulders into a slump. There was no end to the ways his sister could kill joy. “That’s not what I mean. And I’m social. We just … never had enough O² money to go anywhere.”
“We’ve been going to our sector’s Unity Day gathering since” —Joey opened the thin metal door of her locker, pausing to cast a glare— “ever, and you never talked to anybody. Not at the meetings, during the big dance, or even at the feast. You just—”
“I wasn’t talking to her.” Jesse looked at his worn boots, hiding his puckered brow. “I thought you were standing next to me, and I said something stupid. Then she made fun of me.”
“Ooh man, that’s priceless.” Joey chuckled. She glanced at him and her smile faded. He must look like one sorry sap, because she loved picking on him. “That girl probably won’t even remember. There’s like, so many people here.” She shoved her bag into her locker while straining to avoid his gaze.
“Yeah, right.” Jesse dropped his bag inside his own locker, then shut the door.
They turned to face the crowded room, and a chime flowed over the speaker system.
“All passengers report to the launch bay. Liftoff in T-minus ten minutes.”
Joey’s face lit up, and Jesse’s muscles coiled tighter. When his sister’s hand slid into his palm, the knot in his gut unraveled a tad.
A grin spanned Joey’s lips as she pulled him into the mob of people. “Let’s go, brother. We’re shooting into outer flippin’ space.”
***
Sabrina hurried down the glass-encased walkway, maneuvering through a sea of noisy adolescents. Her steps slowed, chills igniting as she crossed the threshold of the Raven. “It’s just a job,” she mumbled beneath her breath. The fact she had to give herself a pep talk boiled her blood and really kicked her ass into gear. She rounded a corner, nearly tripping on her own feet to keep from colliding with the brute who blocked the corridor.
“Captain Stone,” he said, his shoulders as stiff as his glare.
“And you are?” Sabrina scanned the man over, her heart pounding. She chalked it up to pressure. She’d seen plenty of piercing brown eyes and rippling muscles, which bulged beneath crisp uniforms.
“I’m Benicio Alejandro del Reyes. I head security on this bus.”
“Wow. All that’s your name?” Sabrina grinned, wider the more he glowered. “Right, I’m just gonna call you Reyes.”
“That’s fine with me, Captain.”
“Once we leave Earth, I won’t be a captain anymore, so stick with Sabrina.” She gripped him by the arm and pulled him into an empty hallway. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“I was told to report to you for all orders and assist you in crew relations.”
“That’s it?” She stared up, since the guy was obviously a long-lost Spartan. Normally, she could read the eyes of any person before her, but this guy, with his ridiculously long name, held a stern poker face.
“Yes, ma’am. You’re here for my job, aren’t you?”
A snicker escaped her lips, and she glanced around. “Which way to the control bridge?”
Reyes signaled to the empty left passage. “It’s two levels up, ma’am.”
“Don’t ever call me ‘ma’am’ again,” she said in a grumble before hurrying down the hall. Reyes crowded behind her, his steps shuddering the floor. On any other day, she’d grill him for hours, scour the archives for his citizen audit, but time and a nagging sensation of trust fought against her. Although she did have time for one quick test. “The commander of the U.N.E. assigned me to this flight to stop a terrorist attack.”
The stomps behind her slowed, leaving an eerie stillness. She stopped in front of an elevator, then glanced back at Reyes. There it was. The skeptical type of concern that only shined in the eyes of the innocent lit his gaze. Test passed.
She waited until the door closed them inside the lift, then turned to face him. “I have good reason to believe there’s an explosive device onboard.”
Many emotions crossed his face—shock, horror, fear—but the carousel of reactions ended with doubt. “Look, Sabrina. I’m sure you’re great at your job, but so am I. If there were explosives on this vessel, I would know about them. We’re equipped with the latest anti-weapons system. Our computers sense any type of foreign substance, immediately.”
The elevator lurched to a stop, and the door squeaked open.
“You really have no idea about the other flights, do you?” She breezed into the landing, pausing when the passage split in three directions. Reyes pointed straight ahead, and she took off down the middle corridor. “All of the previous flights to Mars were blown up shortly after leaving Earth’s orbit.”
“No! That’s impossible. I would’ve been informed.”
“I know this is a lot to take in from a stranger, but I really don’t have time to brief you right now.” Sabrina continued in a steady march, eyes straight ahead. Reyes was making faces back there; the little snorts were a dead giveaway. She couldn’t look back, witness the sight, or she’d have to bitchslap the man. “Has my equipment arrived yet?”
“Yes. All secured in your private quarters, except the case that you instructed be delivered to the control room.”
A locked door at the end of the hall stopped her short, but it didn’t keep her foot from tapping. She eyed a small keypad, then looked at Reyes.
“The code is sixteen twenty-one,” he said, punching in the code and stepping aside.
Voices erupted before the door fully opened. Men and women hustled around a computer-lined room, typing on tablets and studying 3-D float screens.
“Mr. Reyes,” a young man in a near identical uniform called out while dashing toward them. “Liftoff is in five minutes. Most of the passengers are secured in the launch bay. I reviewed the takeoff checklist twice—”
Reyes held up his hand. “Head
to the launch bay and ensure the entire crew, plus our guests, are fastened in.”
“Yes, sir,” the officer rumbled, already halfway out the door.
Sabrina got one step inside the control room before Reyes gripped onto her arm. “I’m telling you,” he whispered, “there’s no bomb on this ship. Don’t get the crew all worked up for nothing.”
She yanked her arm free, resisting the urge to lay the man out. “There is a very real threat on this ship. Someone with intimate knowledge of this spacebus will try to sabotage the mission.” Her stare hardened, and Reyes shifted in place. “For all I know, it could be you.”
A gasp flew from his lips before his eyes tapered. “How dare you—”
“Your case, Captain Stone,” a woman said, lifting a silver briefcase.
Sabrina wrapped her fingers around the handle. She nodded to the woman, glowered at Reyes, and then headed for an empty table.
Reyes crept beside her, a sour look fixed upon his face. “You don’t know me well enough to make those kinds of accusations, ma’am.”
The snap of the case unlatching muffled her grumble. He was right. Finger-pointing only wasted time. She had to find and disable a bomb in less than two hours.
“Ma’am, really. I suppose I deserved that. But I’m not getting blown up in space by a bunch of Earth-heads, so you’ll have to excuse me.” She pulled a thin metal rod from the case, bumping past Reyes. As the flight crew strapped into their station, she weaved through a line of control panels.
“An actual spaceship,” she mumbled. Her steps slowed as she gawked at rows of flashing buttons. Tingles hit her fingertips the closer she walked toward the fuzzy monitors below a wide, curved windshield. She never expected to set foot on a luxury class four-story spacebus, let alone blastoff on one.
After recovering from her unprofessional lapse of awe, she crouched between a man and woman seated in the cockpit. “I’m Captain Sabrina Stone of the—”
“We know who you are, Captain,” the man to her left said. “And we know why you’re here.”
Her surprise carried her glare toward the man. His soft brown skin and light patch of freckles seemed vaguely familiar. She glanced at his nametag. Gerald Winslow Jr.. Of course the director of the Space Center would assign his son to pilot the last bus to ever leave Earth, and she was glad. The man had become a legend for his fearlessness during risky space missions, which was exactly the type of pilot she needed.
“I believe you’ve just met my father. He filled me in before you were dispatched. I’ve shared this information solely with my copilot, Natalia Kozlov.”
“I’m glad somebody was briefed.” Sabrina looked at the woman on her right, who nodded before returning to her switches.
“We’re prepared to do whatever you need, Captain,” Winslow said.
“That’s good to hear, Airman Winslow, ‘cause I have a task for you.”
Natalia stopped flipping toggles and spun her chair to face Sabrina. “We’re wheels to the floor in less than five.”
“I know,” Sabrina said, without breaking her stare on Winslow. “Which is why I need your help. I don’t have time to search the ship before we launch. And if the pattern follows, we only have ninety minutes until detonation.”
“What can I do?” Winslow asked.
Sabrina lifted the shiny cylinder in her grasp, the colorful lights of the cockpit glinting off its curve. “This is a high-frequency jammer. It’ll block all electronics within a hundred-mile radius.”
Natalia slammed a thick manual upon her lap, leaning against her harness to glare at Sabrina. “That’s going to interfere with our guidance system, thrusters, hell, everything. We’ll be dead before we break the atmosphere.”
Winslow peeked over Sabrina’s shoulder, looking at his copilot. “Is the pre-flight checklist complete?”
After a grumble, Natalia swiveled her chair back to the control panel and tossed on a headset.
“Please, go on, Captain,” Winslow urged.
“I know you need these computers for takeoff, but once we’re going, the only thing that’s gonna stop us is that bomb. This device,” —she handed Winslow the lightweight rod— “will jam the detonator of that explosive.”
“That’s excellent. But what do you need me for?”
“The moment you activate the artificial gravity machine, I need you to click on this device.”
“Won’t the gravity makers be affected as well?”
“No. That’s brand-new tech. It runs on low-frequency waves. The switches that activate the unit will be disabled though. That’s why I need you. As soon as you’ve engaged everything you need for deep-space travel, press that button on top of the jammer and don’t let it out of your sight.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. The first wormhole is a three-hour trek. Autopilot can navigate us through it. But once we near the crossway for the next series of wormholes, I’ll need my guidance system up.”
“The jammer’s electromagnetic core only lasts for two hours. If I don’t locate and disable that bomb before then, we won’t make it to the crossway.”
A roar grumbled in the distance, with the short burst of rockets quaking the floor. Sabrina’s nervous gaze met with Winslow’s hopeful eyes.
“We have to get to the launch bay now,” Reyes yelled in a tone wound tighter than his edgy glare.
Sabrina rose to her feet, sprinting after Reyes toward the door.
“Good luck, Captain,” Winslow called out, his voice lost under the thump of her running feet.
***
His breath created small foggy circles upon the glass. Stiff fingers dug around the edge of the ship’s porthole, nails chipping. “That’s the last of ‘em. Forsaken souls locked onboard,” he muttered to himself as the glass walkway withdrew from the vessel. “Godless. Soulless. Vermin. Turn your back on the planet that God gave you, ungrateful.”
Hunched over, he scurried through a constricted maintenance corridor. His hand brushed a pipe along the metal wall. The sizzle of skin filled his ears before the pain hit his palm.
“Ah, the righteous suffer. Always.”
Folds of now puffy red flesh drew his stare. “The mark of Cain! This is a sign that God approves.” He continued on, ducking as a gush of hot steam burst from another pipe. “Right on time. I know you, every inch of you.”
After rounding a corner, he slowed to a stop. His lips lifted to a sinister grin, and he knelt down. “It’s almost time.”
He reached for a large block of plastic explosive, drawing back before his skin could graze one wire. “It’s gonna be a rough takeoff. Three hundred thousand pounds of boost from a StarDrive, and me with no launch chair. Injuries likely to ensue, but it doesn’t matter. Soon we’ll all be specks of dust, drifting back to Earth. Where we belong.”
A series of beeps echoed from afar.
“Prelaunch sequence.”
Mini-blasts shook the steel-grate floor.
“Thruster check.”
Rumbles quaked the rickety walkway.
“Engines initiated. Three minutes,” he beamed.
“T-minus three minutes,” a voice echoed from a distant speaker.
“Gotta brace myself for the ride. You’re all bolted down nice and tight,” he said through a smirk, patting the air over the device. “But me, I’ll hit the ceiling three times if I don’t find cover.”
He glanced around, his stare caught by the gleam of shiny grate. “Perfect! I’ll wedge beneath the floor right below the bomb.”
***
Sabrina all but galloped to keep with Reyes. They twisted and turned down identical halls, all the while a countdown flowed from the overhead speakers.
With only thirty seconds to spare, the door to the launch bay slid open. Her legs locked in place. A horde of young, scared eyes shifted to her, and she strained to display strength instead of terror. Each frightened gaze seared into her mind. A collective wave of panic crashed down, addin
g to the weight already piled atop her shoulders. She could only stare at the youthful faces, the scrawny arms that clung to thick padded restrains. Her protective instincts morphed from overdrive to ultra-burn. This time, failure really wasn’t an option.
Pressure nicked her fortitude. A heavy burden set her stance in place, but when the rumble beneath her feet grew to a thunderous growl, every muscle sprang into action. The thrust of takeoff hurled her into an empty chair, and she yanked the bar over her head. Thick waves of doubt swelled inside her stomach. Her planet, her home, her real life—she’d never see any of them again. She sucked down mouthfuls of cool air, but it didn’t quench the burn of her lungs. All that became irrelevant when two rocket boosters thrust her body deep into the seat.
Chapter Three
“Oh my God. That was, awesome!” Joey said between chuckles. The bone-jarring shudder, the crushing force upon her chest, and the deafening roar had faded, but the jitters lingered.
“My buckle won’t unlatch,” Jesse yelled, tugging hard on the metal clip.
“Relax. I’ll get you.” Joey pressed her release button. Nothing. “Oh man. Mine broke too.”
“They’re not broke,” a deep voice rang out from her right. “They haven’t disengaged the locks yet.”
Joey tried to find the owner of the words, but she couldn’t see beyond her thick restraints. “How do you know?”
“My dad’s the pilot of this ship. I’m Chuck, Chuck Winslow.”
“You’re lucky. I wish my mom was here. I’m Joey Westen.” She reached over until her fingers brushed skin, and a strong hand gripped her own.
“Joey, that’s a weird name for a girl.”
“Yeah, my real name’s—”
“What’s going on, Joey?” Jesse shouted from her left.
Joey slanted toward her brother’s direction, losing hold of Chuck’s grasp. “Nothing! They haven’t released the locks yet,” she blurted in a rush, before turning her attention back the other way. “Sorry, Chuck. You still there?” Her shoulder dug into the restraint as she lightly swatted at the air.
