Arkadian Skies

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Arkadian Skies Page 10

by Lindsay Buroker


  “Take it. It’s wet and awkward.”

  “You just have to know how to handle it.”

  “Does this seem like the time for innuendos to you?” Alisa asked as they rounded the landing to the ninth floor. “What’s in the basement? Do we have a plan?”

  How were they going to get out of the hospital and back to the junkyard without being spotted?

  “Hope it doesn’t… involve… sewers,” Alejandro panted. They were all winded, all except Leonidas, who had caught up to them and ran silently down the wet stairs behind them.

  Banging came from the top of the stairwell.

  “Just laundry,” Abelardus said.

  “Not sure that puts my mind to rest,” Alisa said.

  “I could distract you with delightful innuendos.”

  “That definitely wouldn’t put my mind to rest.” Alisa sucked in a gulp of air as they reached the sixth floor.

  “Such an odd woman you are,” he said.

  A crash sounded from above, that door flying open.

  “Watch our backs,” Leonidas ordered Abelardus as he hopped over a railing to cut to the head of the group.

  As he neared the landing for the fourth level, the door flew open. A soldier leaned through, a rifle in hand. He must not have expected his foes to be right there, because he jerked in surprise instead of firing right away. The split-second delay was enough time for Leonidas to pounce on him. He yanked the man onto the landing, ripping his rifle from his hands, then spun the man around and shoved him back the way he had come.

  Alisa raced past as Leonidas fired into the corridor. She glimpsed blue and gray Alliance uniforms, soldiers diving for cover in doorways, but then she was past, descending to the next floor.

  “Don’t shoot to kill,” she called back, hoping that order wasn’t coming far too late. He had aimed for lights before, and Abelardus, too, hadn’t been trying to kill anyone, but was it delusional to hope they could get out of a firefight without any fatalities?

  The squeal of metal answered her, Leonidas destroying another door, and then he caught up to their group again, still carrying Durant as if he were a pillow instead of a man.

  “Basement,” Alisa said, the sign for the last landing coming into sight. Several inches of water had pooled in the space.

  Abelardus surged into the lead, passing Alisa and Alejandro. He stopped at the door leading into the basement, holding up a hand.

  A bang came from above them, another door block thwarted.

  “Abelardus,” Leonidas warned.

  “The laundry staff is gone,” Abelardus said, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “The ones we got the uniforms from and all the others.”

  “Soldiers?”

  “I think the robots are still there, but no people, not in the basement.”

  Leonidas hesitated. Shouts came from above as footfalls rang on the stair treads.

  Alisa danced from foot to foot, sweat streaming down her temples and cheeks.

  “Take a deep breath before we go in,” Leonidas said. “Try to hold it until we get to our escape. Go in and run about four hundred meters that way.” He pointed off to the side, in the direction of the west tower. “There’s a door, but don’t go out. Wait for me there.”

  Alisa thought that was a long way to run on a single breath, especially if it involved waiting at the end, but there wasn’t time to do more than nod in acknowledgment. They couldn’t risk one person testing the air at a time, not with soldiers thundering down the stairs.

  Leonidas squeezed her shoulder and met her eyes as he visibly drew in a deep breath. Alisa sucked one in too. The door was locked, but he yanked it open with a cracking of metal. He leaped into the basement first, rifles at the ready, despite Abelardus’s promise that nobody was down there. The lights were out, with only the yellow or red indicators of a few machines burning in the darkness.

  Alisa rushed inside and only hesitated a second to get her bearings before turning and running in the direction he had indicated. The basement was open aside from support posts and machinery looming here and there, the outlines barely visible in the dimness. As she ran, aware of Alejandro and Abelardus behind her, she yanked out her multitool and thumbed on the flashlight. It played over ducts and pipes and light fixtures on the ceiling. A huge laundry facility lay ahead and to the right with robots sorting and folding in the darkness.

  Something bothered Alisa’s eyes, and her nostrils stung, irritated. If Leonidas had guessed right, it was some gas that had been pumped down here to thwart them. She hoped she could hold her breath long enough to escape.

  The sound of blazer fire came from behind, and Alisa glanced back. Leonidas was still at the doorway, firing up into the stairwell. She grimaced, wishing he would simply run after them. As far as she knew, he wouldn’t be able to hold his breath longer than a human. And if he passed out… he had Durant with him. How would Alisa stage an effective rescue without Leonidas’s help?

  The darkness lessened ahead where a wide ramp led up to a loading dock or some door or window that let daylight inside. It must be the spot Leonidas had mentioned. She increased her pace, seeing that light as a beacon of safety. Whether that was true or not, she had no idea. If the other exits were being monitored by the soldiers, wouldn’t this one be too?

  But Leonidas had said to go this way. And her lungs were starting to beg for air, so she did not hesitate.

  With her gaze fixed on the light, she almost missed the movement off to her side. A hulking robot rolled toward her on treads, a pallet fork outstretched as if it meant to impale her.

  At first, she thought she had simply gotten in the way of some laundry robot’s path, but when she sprinted to get past it, it turned to follow her. She zigzagged, still half-believing it couldn’t truly be after her, but someone must have called up a security program buried in the robots’ circuitry. Several more rolled out of the laundry area, trying to intercept her party. When she glanced back to see how close her pursuer was, she saw Leonidas hurling one of the robots away from him.

  Abelardus sprang onto the back of the hulk chasing Alisa. It did not slow down. It sped up, its fork-like twin spears driving toward her. Alisa sprang to the side, ducking behind a support post. One side of the fork clipped it with a crunch. The robot barely slowed, continuing past with Abelardus on its back, trying to find an effective attack with his staff. The robot rolled in a circle, and Alisa expected it to turn back toward her, but its turn became a spin as it tried to fling Abelardus off.

  Leonidas caught up with her, pointing toward the darkness off to one side of the ramp with the light at the top. Three robots chased after him. Alejandro was still running toward the ramp, but he halted a few meters away, waving his arms in a frantic warning.

  Alisa fired the stun gun at one of the robots. Maybe they should simply run. Her lungs burned, and she imagined she could see black dots swimming through her vision. In the darkness, who knew for sure?

  Her stun blasted the robot but did nothing to stop it. It didn’t even notice the attack.

  Leonidas opened fire on the robots behind him, the blazer rifle far more effective. Metal screeched and exploded, parts springing free.

  Abelardus must have realized he couldn’t do anything from the back of the big robot, because he leaped away, rolling and jumping to his feet. Leonidas turned his blazer on that robot. It rotated toward him, but he destroyed it, piece by piece. Uncharacteristic tears ran down his cheeks from the gas.

  “Mica?” he said into his comm. “Did you send the—” A cough racked his throat. He must have already been forced to inhale some of the tainted air. “Directions?” he finished with a rasp.

  “On your netdisc,” came Mica’s response.

  Trusting that he had it handled, Alisa ran toward Alejandro. Where had Leonidas said to go from the ramp? She poked her light into the darkness. More coughing came from behind her. Leonidas and Abelardus. She needed to breathe, but didn’t know if she dared. She felt lightheaded, and panic welled
in her chest, the desperate need for air.

  Alejandro pointed up the ramp, and she stepped up beside him. She saw why he had halted. Several faces were pressed against the window in the big double doors at the top of the stairs. She saw sky behind the faces, but her team would have to mow through soldiers if they went that way, soldiers who were clearly waiting for them.

  “This way,” Leonidas said, running up behind them, tears streaking his face. He glanced at the soldiers, but did not acknowledge them in any way as he ran to the side of the ramp, following the wall.

  Alisa couldn’t hold her breath any longer. Knowing she was running deeper into the basement instead of toward an exit stole her willpower to keep holding it. She tried not to gasp in deep amounts, and held her sleeve to her mouth as she inhaled, hoping it might filter out some of whatever gas particles plagued the air. The harsh gas seemed to burn her throat, searing her from the inside out.

  Alejandro stumbled at her side, bending over and coughing. Alisa offered him an arm, though she wasn’t in much better shape. The gas tore at the insides of her throat.

  “Here,” Leonidas called from the back of a blocky vehicle parked in the corner. He’d thrown open a back door, revealing a cargo hold halfway filled with boxes of laundry detergent.

  “We’re stealing the laundry truck?” Alisa rasped, her throat raw.

  “It’s a laundry ship,” Leonidas said.

  “That makes it more acceptable?”

  Ignoring her in favor of coughing, Leonidas waved for Alisa, Abelardus, and Alejandro to run inside. Though Alisa couldn’t see charging through a military barricade in a laundry truck—or ship—she raced into what passed for a cockpit in the clunky vehicle. What other choice did they have?

  Clanks came from the core of the basement, more robots heading their way.

  Leonidas slammed the back door shut, foisted Durant toward Alejandro, and leaped into the seat beside Alisa. Alisa was looking at the unfamiliar control panel, hunting for the power button.

  Leonidas thrust a netdisc onto the console, a display already up. “Mica sent the directions,” he rasped, his voice sounding as raw as hers.

  Later, she might ask if anyone knew what awful gas they were breathing. Right now, she didn’t want to know.

  “Found it,” she said, hammering the button.

  To her relief, the vehicle started up without checking to see if the driver was authorized. Because who would steal a laundry barge?

  Barely glancing at the directions, Alisa found the hover thrusters, snorting as the craft clunked and clanked as it rose a few inches from the ground. Or maybe that was the robots banging at the door, trying to figure out how to get at them.

  There’s a whole platoon of soldiers waiting outside that door, Abelardus spoke into her mind as Alisa backed the vehicle up and turned it around, just avoiding taking out a support column. Barge was the right word. This thing made the Star Nomad feel as sleek and maneuverable as a Striker. They think their gas will smoke us out eventually. If the robots don’t get us.

  How many ships do they have waiting for us? Alisa flew them through the basement, taking the long route so she could use the approach to the ramp like a runway and pick up some speed.

  There are ships all over the hospital grounds and on the roof.

  Wonderful. Even if Alisa could pilot the barge past the armed troops without it being shot down, it wouldn’t take long for faster ships to catch up with them. They would have to ditch it right away, take to the streets, and hope they could somehow lose their pursuers. I sure hope Alejandro got something that will let him wake up your brother.

  Me too, Abelardus replied, none of his usual irreverence in his tone.

  A robot rolled in front of them as Alisa turned around a post, lining up the blunt nose of the laundry barge with the ramp. Would this clunky ship even fit up it? It must. How else would it have gotten down here to deliver its load? She ran over the robot. It clunked off and disappeared from the windshield—yes, windshield. This thing didn’t have anything so high tech as a view screen.

  “Did you look at the instructions on flying the ship?” Leonidas asked mildly, despite the tears streaming from his eyes.

  “Ha ha. Brace yourselves, everyone. We’re going.” Abelardus, she added silently. Can you throw open the door up there before we get to it? Maybe the soldiers will fire prematurely and be surprised when we charge out in this.

  Premature firing would be an embarrassment for a soldier.

  Uh huh. Just fling those doors open.

  If he didn’t, she would be charging through them. That might work to surprise the soldiers, also, but it would be an embarrassing end to their escape if the barge didn’t have the power to make it through them and got stuck. If they had the chance, would the soldiers capture everyone for questioning? Or would they simply blow up the barge and everyone in it?

  “Look for a way to filter the air, will you?” Alisa glanced at Leonidas.

  Her throat was tight from more than nerves. Her chest was tight, too, and it seemed she had to take big breaths to get the air she needed. If that was from the gas, she hoped it went away as soon as they were outside in clean air.

  “I don’t think it matters at this point,” Leonidas said, gripping a bar on the door. She had told him to brace himself.

  “You know something about this gas that I don’t?”

  “It’s a bronchoconstrictor,” Alejandro said from the back. “We all need breathing treatments to open our airways.”

  “Or what?” Alisa asked.

  “Take a guess.”

  Growling, Alisa hit the accelerator, and the barge rumbled forward, not nearly as quickly as she would have liked. The columns ambled past to their sides. At the ramp, she tilted the nose of the craft upward. The doors were still closed, the soldiers still peering through the windows.

  A grunt of exertion sounded from behind her seat—Abelardus—and the doors flew open as Alisa was bracing herself to crash into them. Soldiers were thrown back. The barge barely fit through the exit—a scrape sounded as the jamb gouged into one side. Seeing vehicles and armored soldiers waiting all over the parking lot outside, Alisa pulled up as soon as she cleared the building.

  Rounds hammered into the belly of the barge, and cracks and snaps erupted from all over the hull. Something broke in the back, and Alejandro yelped in surprise—or pain. Alisa called upon full power and tore away from the hospital at top speed. Unfortunately, top speed for the barge wasn’t much more than that of a drunk stumbling out of a bar at the end of a long night.

  Smoke filled the cockpit, giving Alisa more reasons to cough. Her eyes teared up, and she swiped a sleeve over them. The barge bucked, and something cracked up front.

  “Hope that’s not the engine,” she muttered, coughing again. Three suns, she was wheezing now. She struggled to focus on the escape rather than worrying about the gas, but it was getting harder to breathe.

  Leonidas pulled up a real-time map on his netdisc.

  Alisa found a rear camera display, a crack through the lens bisecting the view. It didn’t matter. She could see enough. The Alliance ships were taking off—all of them.

  Chapter 7

  “We need to crash this boat somewhere and escape on foot,” Alisa said as the barge bumped and gurgled, clearly on its last leg. She was flying above rooftops, barely able to clear them. “Anyone have any ideas?”

  Too bad the ocean was forty miles away. They would never make it.

  “So reassuring when the pilot talks about deliberately crashing the ship,” Abelardus muttered behind her.

  “A crash is going to happen whether I’m deliberate about it or not,” she said, fighting the controls. The barge wanted to die. Badly.

  Leonidas was scanning his map, but he glanced at a lever on the console between them. “Hang onto something,” he ordered loudly, his voice still raspy. All of their voices were. “You have Durant, Doctor?” He glanced back.

  “Yes.”

  “Hang
on,” he repeated, and he hit the lever.

  Light flooded the ship from the back, as a cool breeze smacked Alisa in the neck. He had opened the cargo doors. Boxes of laundry detergent toppled out.

  “Great,” Alisa said. “Littering. Another crime for us to get in trouble for.”

  “Trying to lighten our load,” Leonidas said, pushing the lever back to its original position. “We were over a rooftop. Nobody should get hurt.”

  As if people having laundry powder dropped on their heads was Alisa’s main concern right now.

  One door shut. The other didn’t, instead flapping obnoxiously in the wind. She would have glared at Leonidas, but the ship did respond slightly better with less weight in the back.

  “Door, please, Abelardus,” Alisa said.

  “I’m not your butler.”

  “Noted. Close it anyway.”

  “Such a bossy captain.” Abelardus staggered back through the now-empty hold, passing Alejandro, who had strapped himself to the wall and had his arms and legs wrapped around Durant so neither of them would fly out.

  Behind them, as the city ambled past agonizingly slowly below the barge, the first of the Alliance ships cleared the hospital and turned its nose in their direction.

  “Leonidas?” Alisa glanced at his map. “I’m going to pick a wide alley unless you have any better ideas. Is there a sewer access point or anything near here?”

  “Not the sewers again,” Alejandro groaned.

  “Better than being dead.”

  “We all need to get back to sickbay on the ship.”

  “That’s the ultimate goal, but I can’t lead the military straight to the Nomad.”

  “Head two miles north-northeast,” Leonidas said. “See that mountain in the park? There are mines in it.”

  “Mines? In the middle of a metropolis?” Despite her skepticism, Alisa turned them in that direction.

  “Old ones. This says they’re a tourist attraction now. There’s a ride that goes into them.”

  “So you want us to crash into an amusement park?”

 

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