Page 14 of Star Bringer
I’ve got to get out of here.
I blink my eyes open to chaos.
The air is thick with smoke, screams fill the room, and for a moment the world makes no sense. I shake my headand push myself up. I must have hit something.
At least I’m alive, but for how long? The screen I’d been staring at is on fire, and I scoot backward.
Was it an assassination attempt? I swallow as I think of my father, then push the thought away.
More likely, it was someone after the heptosphere, though if that’s the case, why risk blowing it up? Unless that was the purpose. If so, it failed. The sphere is still floating gently in the center of the room while the ceiling falls around it. Beyond that, I can see what I presume is the outer hull of the space station. At least it’s still intact—otherwise, we’d all be space debris.
The lab is filled with the screams and moans of the injured and dying, and my stomach churns.
Get a grip.
I need to help.
But as I scramble to my feet, another explosion rocks the ship and sends me careening into the heptosphere.
As my palms touch the surface briefly, a shudder runs through me. Then another explosion, and I’m hurled backward, slamming into someone behind me. It’s High Priestess Rain, and she appears unhurt. I start to turn but then look back, stopping and staring. The heptosphere is no longer translucent black.
Instead, it’s lit up inside with multicolored rings spinning like a gyroscope that can’t find its orientation. Was it damaged in the explosion?
I’m spellbound, the colors filling my mind so I can’t drag my gaze away. Then another scream rends the air, and I’m back in motion, racing toward the injured.
I drop to the ground beside Ambassador Terra. She’s silently weeping, her hands fisted at her stomach, blood oozing between her fingers and turning her green dress brown. Her blond hair has come loose from its bun, and terror fills her large eyes.
“It’s okay,” I tell her as I reach down and rip off a large piece of my tattered ceremonial cloak. “Let me help you.” I fold it several times, then gently move her hands. I go still, despair filling me—the wound is deep and jagged, way beyond my skills—but I try not to let that show as I firmly press the material against her stomach.
A tremor runs through her, and her spine arches. She cries out, a garbled sound of agony, and I glance around for help, for a medic, for something, but find only Dr. Veragelen standing there, seemingly uninjured, staring at me with a look in her black eyes that chills me to the bone.
What the hell is going on inside that brilliant head of hers? Whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it, so I look away.
Lara drops to her knees beside me as yet another explosion rocks the laboratory and sends me tumbling forward. I catch myself.
“Are you all right?” she demands. Her voice is raspy, as if she’s been knocked breathless, though I don’t see any visible wounds.
“None of this is all right,” I answer. Ambassador Terra moans again, and I touch her cheek, trying to comfort her. She stares up at me with the knowledge of her own death in her eyes.
“I meant—”
“I’m fine.” I cut Lara off abruptly, because if I think about how I really am right now, I’ll fall apart.
Ambassador Terra exhales long and low. And then…nothing.
“Goddamn it, no!” I curl my hand into a fist and punch her chest, trying to remember my never-before-used CPR lessons.
Lara tugs at me, yelling something in my ear, but I fight her off and continue the CPR.
“She’s dead, Kali, and we have to get out of here or we’ll be dead, too.”
“We can’t just leave her like—”
“We’ve no choice. She’s beyond care. And we’ve got to get you somewhere safe.”
New explosions shake the ship until she’s shuddering and buckling all around us. I put my hands over my head as debris crashes to the floor, narrowly missing us. Lara throws herself over me so hard and fast that it knocks the wind out of me. Then she’s up and dragging me to my feet—protocols forgotten. With one last look at the dead ambassador, I allow her to pull me toward the wide double doors. For a second, the lights go out and the room is lit by the whirling illumination inside the heptosphere, a disorienting kaleidoscope of color. I stumble over another body, but they’re not moving.
Then the lights flash on again and we’re out the door.
