Trade Circle: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 3)

by Valerie J Mikles

  “This isn’t exactly plan A.”

  Sky furrowed her brow. She pushed up to her knees, but then collapsed against Danny, pinning him against the tree. Black spots swam in Danny’s eyes.

  “How are they getting out?” Sky asked.

  Danny closed his eyes, waiting for his breath to even out and his thoughts to run clear. “Plan D,” he finally said, raising his Virp to his lips. “Saskia, do you feel like taking the ‘sled for a spin?”

  “Sure, Captain,” Saskia answered, sounding as sluggish as he felt. He wondered if she was still sitting in the cargo bay or if she’d put all her energy into moving someplace else. “I hear we have a remote fly system on that thing. Won’t even have to leave the bridge.”

  Danny pressed his lips together. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I can set down along the path you took.”

  “No,” Sky spoke up, her fingers trembling as she clutched her blanket. “They’ll have warriors all along that path now. You have to fly it yourself and get some place where they won’t be looking.”

  “We’ll get as far from the camp as we can.” Danny motioned Lakshya over, but swooned before he could relay the new plan.

  “Already tracking your Virp,” Amanda spoke up. Danny’s jaw dropped hearing her voice. He hadn’t expected Amanda to be lucid and listening; and he had never thought to ask for her help. “We might have to move the ship before you get back. The lake is rising and the cargo bay is starting to flood.”

  “Good,” Danny panted. “There’s another part to this plan. I need you to fly.”

  “Your Ambassador said the Drava didn’t trade people, Marius. And if you want to buy a whole person from me, you need to give me a hell of a lot more than a jar of medicine,” Tray said. His tongue was bleeding, but since the first slap, the Drava soldiers had been surprisingly restrained. Hawk had a bruised temple and had been gagged so he couldn’t express his displeasure—which he seemed insistent on doing even with the gag.

  “It’s too late to talk trade, Ambassador,” Marius said. “I know you have no ownership of Adita.”

  Tray felt his Virp vibrate and did his best to keep the device from rattling his bonds. Please be on plan D.

  “Hawk, be ready to duck and cover on my mark,” Tray said in Trade. Marius raised his hand to smack Tray, but paused when Tray’s words finally rendered Hawk silent.

  “What did you say to him?” Marius asked.

  “Get ready for Plan D,” Tray answered, his breath quickening. He listened for the sound of Oriana’s engines and exchanged a look with Hawk. The ship sounded so loud when he was inside, but now, all Tray could hear were the chirping birds, rushing wind, and voices of villagers talking outside, going about their evening, not knowing what atrocities their leaders were committing inside the judicial tent.

  Suddenly Hawk leapt sideways, throwing his body onto Tray’s, knocking them both to the ground. The roar of the engine came a fraction of a second later sending the tent crashing on top of them. Tray yelped as Hawk’s weight fell hard on his bound wrists. He could hear Marius hollering to the soldiers, and knew their time was short. Wriggling out from under Hawk, Tray snaked his way out of the collapsed tent into the open air. Once he found an opening, he kicked up the lip of the fabric, holding it up until Hawk found his way out too. The village was in chaos, and fortunately, the people’s first priority seemed to be protecting their children and their livestock.

  Twisting to get his legs underneath himself again, Tray stood up and started running, Hawk close behind him. Every time his feet impacted the ground, the bonds cut into his wrists. His elbows and shoulders ached. At some point, he’d have to find a way to activate his Virp and figure out where to rendezvous.

  “I thought you weren’t a warship,” Hawk said, spitting the gag out of his mouth. Somehow, he’d managed to bring his arms in front of his body.

  “We’re innovative,” Tray said cheekily, watching the sky. Oriana hovered overhead a moment longer, then rose into the sky.

  Sky felt stabbing pain through her entire body. Her legs were on fire; her torso was a blinding pool of pain. Breathing was difficult enough without Spirit constricting her airways. Spirit didn’t like Danny today; every time Danny touched her, Spirit would give her a burst of strength, urging her to get away from him. Unfortunately, the strength didn’t come with clarity. Sky couldn’t feel her own legs. For the last ten minutes, she felt like she’d been falling, and now the ground was coming toward her with lightning speed.

  Danny caught her around the chest, and laid her on her side. The forest floor was cold and wet, and her blanket was tangled beyond hope. She felt another burst from Spirit, bringing with it enough numbness to lure her into closing her eyes. Am I tamed now? The visions didn’t drown her anymore; they drew her in. She wasn’t sure how long she watched them before Spirit crept up behind her and started choking her. Suddenly, Spirit was knocked over and Sky’s eyes shot open.

  “Breathe, Sky, breathe,” she heard Danny saying, his hand massaging through her hair. “Myra, I need help!”

  Sky whimpered, pressing her cheek against Danny’s shoulder, focusing on the light of the Virp reflecting off his face. Myra pressed a plant into Danny’s hand, and he waved it under her nose. A chill went through her body, but it was nice to feel something besides pain.

  “Did we tear the wound?” Danny asked. His cheeks were bright red and his face dripping with sweat. They’d barely cleared the Drava camp, and the noise of chaos was all around them. Maybe that was the chaos she’d seen in her dreams. Maybe when today was over, that dream would end.

  “I’m fine. I just need a minute,” Sky said. She was torn on the inside, from the knife and from those damn Drava savages. It was hard to keep track because she kept slipping into the arena of future visions. They came one after the other, and in between, Sidney would look upon her and wipe the blood from her skin.

  “Tents fall down!” Shray exclaimed, though his voice was barely above a whispered. “Drava chaos!”

  Myra nodded gleefully and jabbered back. It sounded like the Chanti were planning to raid the Drava’s food supply. Twenty-seven years ago, Sky would have felt bad about throwing off the balance of power among the tribes. Today, she would have joined in their wicked delight, if only she could keep lucid.

  “I’m sorry about your brother,” Sky panted. The vision was persistent. She kept feeling the knife and the ooze of Tray’s blood on her skin. She’d promised to get him to Quin.

  “Stay with me, Sky,” Danny coached, wiping the sweat from her brow so it wouldn’t sting her eyes. “I told you he’s fine.”

  “Are you sure?” She blinked, suddenly not sure why she was lying on the forest floor, or where all the screaming came from.

  “What did you see?” Danny asked.

  Sky’s chest tightened. “I can’t tell. It’s so dark.”

  “It’s the middle of the night. It gets brighter from here,” Danny said worriedly, stroking her hair. Then he spoke into his Virp. “Tray? Are you still alive?”

  “Barely,” Tray responded. “Are you guys coming or do you need help?”

  A bullet whizzed past Danny’s ear, sending tree bark flying. Sky whined as the flecks of dust and bark stung her eyes. Danny fired back with Sky’s grav-gun, igniting a brush fire.

  “There’s some light,” Danny said, scooping an arm under Sky’s shoulder, hauling her to her feet. The fire spread and canon-fire erupted. Sky wasn’t sure if she was in the arena or the real world anymore.

  Sidney Kassa had a loaded gun in his hand. He’d seen the tents go over, but he’d left it to Brishen to care for Laos. The Drava would not let Adita go! There she was, being escorted through the forest by several black-cloaked traitors. The Drava warriors in pursuit took out one, then another. Sidney raised his gun to shoot the one carrying Adita. He could catch her before she hit the ground, and he’d take her some place safe away from the Drava and the Oriana. They’d be together at last.

  �
�Dad!” Laos shouted, her voice barely carrying over the screams of the Drava villagers, many still scrambling to free themselves from collapsed tents, or put out fires that had started when the airship had blown past the fire pits.

  “Adita is alive,” Sidney said, pushing Laos away and taking aim. He was glad Laos was awake, but he didn’t want to see her. He didn’t know if he could leave while she was there, begging him not to. His chest ached as his heart and mind warred.

  “Dad, no,” Laos cried, pulling him behind a tree. One of the men with Sky shot an energy weapon, felling two of the Drava warriors that were chasing them.

  “If she is a Seer, that is trouble we don’t want,” Laos said, pinning him to the tree. “Every tribe within fifty miles will come at us trying to steal her. If she is your Adita, let her go with the Oriana and live.”

  “I have waited twenty-seven years to see her,” Sidney said, his hands shaking as he raised the weapon again.

  Laos pushed his hand down. “And you’ve seen her. You’ve seen what the Drava will do to her. The Oriana—at least they believe she is a person.”

  Sidney sobbed, the memory of Adita’s anguished cries haunting him. Laos wiped the tears from his cheek and hugged him. His daughter was a stranger to him, because his heart had always been with Adita. Sidney scanned the forest, but Adita had disappeared.

  “We have to get home,” Laos said, tugging his hand. “The Chanti are organizing raiding parties to take advantage of our disarray.”

  Sidney hesitated. For the last twenty-seven years, all he’d done was go through the motions of life. He’d taken any woman that expressed interest, had enough children to make his father proud, and done everything that was expected of him. He’d kept Caira at a distance—the one woman who seemed to love him no matter what.

  “Dad,” Laos said. “Dad, please. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Tears welled in his eyes and he looked at his daughter again. She never used his title. She’d never wanted him to be anything but her father. She and her mother deserved better, and if he could bring himself to let go of Adita this time, he’d have the chance to give them better.

  36

  When Danny saw his brother, he cried out softly in relief. Sky had been scaring him to death, not just with her death talk, but with the fact that she seemed so close to dying herself. Falling to his knees, Danny prayed hard. Zive, help me. He was out of strength, but his brother was coming to him now. Sky held his hand. She’d stopped crying ten minutes ago, and her eyes were open and glazed.

  “Lakshya, cut me loose,” Tray said, kneeling in front of Danny, presenting his bound wrists. The young scout came from behind, sawing through the rope as fast as he could.

  “A Drava hunter shot Shray,” Lakshya said. “I have to go back for him before he’s discovered in their territory.”

  “Do you need help?” Tray asked, motioning Lakshya to cut Hawk free next. Hawk’s attention went straight to Sky, and Danny was glad to hear Sky respond to him in mixed Trade and Rocanese.

  The boy shook his head.

  “Go. You’ve done enough for us, and we are forever grateful,” Tray said. “Danny—”

  “Did they break it?” Danny asked, pointing to Tray’s hand, worried by the way Tray favored it. Danny scooted around, searching for something to lean against so that he could stay sitting up.

  “Just rope burn this time,” Tray said. His fingers hovered protectively over the skin, not touching it.

  “Everywhere we go, people are tying you up,” Danny joked. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

  “You know me. Whatever I’m doing, I’m pissing people off.”

  The banter between them normally helped, but Tray looked like he’d been slapped in the face. Danny hooked his hand behind Tray’s head so that Tray would look at him.

  “It’s not you,” Danny said firmly. “It’s not your fault. You’re getting caught in crossfire and it’s my fault for bringing you here in the first place.”

  Tray looked confused, torn, and hurt, then he averted his eyes. Danny started to think he’d misread his brother’s expression. He’d disrupted the rhythm of the banter with sentiment, and that seemed to make things worse.

  “Next Dome, you get tied up,” Tray sulked.

  “Deal,” Danny chuckled, pulling Tray into a hug. Tray squirmed out of the embrace immediately, and sat just out of reach. Danny couldn’t decide whether to apologize or criticize, but then the leaves rustled and parted, and the Bobsled descended. “Here’s our ride.”

  Tray offered Danny a hand up, but Danny needed more than a hand to get onto his feet. The ‘sled was not designed as a rescue vehicle. It would be a tight fit with five; it may not even fly with five, but they had to try. Getting Sky in would be the difficult. Hawk had her sitting up, but the saddle seat was not designed for comfort, and the nature of her injuries made it even worse.

  Danny took Sky’s blanket so he’d be able to set it for her on the seat. He was so woozy, he could barely climb the ladder, and a few times he felt Tray’s hand on his back holding him up. He plopped into the back seat, panting. Saskia was slouched over the controls, gathering strength for the flight back. She said something, but the blood was pounding so hard in Danny’s ears that he didn’t hear.

  “How’s Amanda?” Danny asked.

  “She seemed fine when I left. She gets lucid when she finds someone to nurse,” Saskia said. She tapped her Feather. “She checks in every few minutes.”

  Danny sighed, relieved. Maybe they had moved past the phase of seemingly random fits. The past few episodes had had intense stress triggers. The hope gave him the strength that he desperately needed to keep going. A few minutes later, Hawk’s head peeked over the side of the ‘sled; he carried Sky on his back. Moving carefully so as not to tip the vehicle, Danny grabbed hold of Sky’s arms and pulled her into the ‘sled. She sat sideways on the saddle seat, and Danny wrapped her in the bloody blanket, rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

  “We won’t all fit if you sit sideways,” Danny said gently, not sure if he should touch her leg to move her into position. Given how he’d found her, he could understand why her knees were locked. Hawk hadn’t seen, and Danny didn’t want to tell him.

  “Bébé, it’s me and the captain. We love you and we’re not going to hurt you,” Hawk said reassuringly, arranging Sky on the seat, not understanding her resistance. “Sorry, bébé. I’d teleport you if I could.” Hawk pinched her cheek, pressing her back into Danny’s arms, and tucking the blanket around her. Danny whispered a prayer, rubbing Sky’s arms, not sure where he could put his hands without hurting her.

  “I’m not Amanda,” Sky said, squirming against him.

  “I know,” Danny said, surprised by the comment. “She’s alone on the ship right now.”

  “Then we’d better get back before she steals it,” Sky said, settling against Danny, making space for Hawk to slide in. When Hawk scooted against her to make space for Tray, Sky cried out in pain, then gritted her teeth, looking annoyed.

  “Sorry, bébé,” Hawk said, tipping his head back to rest on Sky’s shoulder. At the pressure, her eyes welled with tears. She bit Hawk’s shoulder, whining softly. Even as tightly packed as they were, there wasn’t room for Tray on the seat. Desperate to get moving, Tray straddled Hawk’s lap.

  “Can we lift off?” Danny asked. “I could jump out.”

  “If anyone’s getting out it’s me,” Tray said pointedly, squirming to get his feet tucked into the foot well. “At 95%, I’m doing better than any of you for running.”

  “No one is getting out,” Sky croaked. “Let me fly.”

  “Bébé, you aren’t moving anywhere,” Hawk argued. “You just pass out now.”

  Sky smacked Hawk on the shoulder. Her face was flush, her jaw set. “Saskia, press the L4 button, and rotate the knob on the left a quarter way counterclockwise.”

  “That knob doesn’t do anything,” Danny protested.

  “Not in your design,” Sky said, flashing
a grin, then going pale from pain.

  “Everyone hold on to something,” Saskia warned, following Sky’s instructions.

  “Hawk, don’t grip me so tight!” Tray cried.

  The Bobsled jerked upward, ascending vertically rapidly, wobbling dangerously as they broke the canopy. Tray grabbed Hawk’s arms and locked them around his waist.

  “Never mind. Hold on! Hold on! There’s no seatbelt!” Tray exclaimed.

  Danny laughed at his brother.

  Sky leaned her head on Danny’s shoulder. Her teeth chattered and she gripped her blanket so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Don’t let me pass out.”

  In the lunar tunnels of Terrana, there were rumors of an Elysian sect called the Panoptica. They never closed their eyes, and according to legend, they could read minds and see the future. Without light, they would die. The scientifically minded dismissed the legends and attributed the condition to insomnia and severe sleep apnea. They pointed to ancient rumors of vampires that were nothing more than humans suffering porphyria.

  Danny had never believed in the legends of the Panoptica, until he’d met one. It was in the tunnels of Terrana, when he’d been searching for Amanda. The woman raved about needing a special root vegetable from the Farm Dome to make a medicine so that the Seers could sleep. Not all Panoptica were Seers, and not all Seers were Panoptica. Both were scarce. The first Panoptica Danny met hadn’t read Danny’s mind or told him the future, but there was something about the encounter that made Danny certain that his prayers passed through a real and tangible spirit battleground. He’d forgotten that feeling for a long time; he’d been praying out of habit rather than belief.

  Something was strange about Sky. She didn’t awaken the same spiritual conviction and she certainly hadn’t crawled out of the lunar tunnel where the Panoptica lived. But the way she forced her eyes to stay open, and kept her gaze fixed on the lights from the panel—it was more than trauma.