Page 21 of Star Bringer
At least not until theCaelestisgives a particularly violent shudder, like the death throes of some great beast. Without a word or another thought, we take off running after them.
We’re halfway across the space when the ship’s doors open and a flood of people clamber out. They’re all in gray jumpsuits. Are these the prisoners, then?
Before I can ask, another explosion tears through the station, and the interruption of gravity on theCaelestismakes it feel like we rise several feet. I throw my arms out to steady myself as the shrill shriek of a new alarm fills the docking bay. It’s so loud it freezes all of us in place, and I clap my hands over my ears in a desperate attempt to shut out the noise.
I’m afraid I know what’s coming next. There’s a definite pattern of explosions and then—
Before I can even form the thought, a huge bulkhead slams shut in front of us, cutting us off from the prison ship—and what’s likely our only possible escape route—for good.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Ian yells as he sprints the remaining distance. “That’s our last shot at finding Milla!” he yells again, kicking viciously at the bulkhead like he thinks that will get it to open.
When it doesn’t, he pulls out the pistol he’s so fond of and shoots at it. When it still doesn’t move, he lets out a roar of frustration nearly as loud as the alarm still pealing around us.
This Milla person must be very important to him.
I glance at the princess, who shrugs like it’s not a big deal. But I can see the panic in her eyes, know the same fear is probably reflected in mine. Ian doesn’t exactly seem like the most trustworthy sort, but at least he had a plan. Now, he’s losing it, and the rest of us don’t have any idea where to begin.
“What do we do now?” Merrick echoes my thoughts, shouting to be heard over the blaring alarm and Ian’s very loud, very inventive, stream of curses. I’ve never heard most of them before, and I commit them to memory, just in case they’re ever needed back at the monastery.
“Wait it out?” the princess suggests, but she doesn’t sound convinced.
I shake my head. “I don’t think it would be a long wait, Your Highness.” It’s getting uncomfortably hot in here, and the smoke is still hanging in the air, making my eyes smart. Sweat slides down my spine beneath the heavy robes. Ian has gone mostly quiet; he’s holding a whispered conversation with Max, who seems to be trying to calm him down.
For a second, I imagine a different outcome for us. Me throwing myself at the bulkhead and lifting it up with my bare hands, clearing the path to the prison ship and saving us all. Merrick would be proud of me for once, and Princess Kali would be so grateful that she might actually give me a hug. Ian and Max would—
“No, I guess not,” the princess says, interrupting the daydream that’s so much better than our current reality. “And please, call me Kali.”
It’s not a hug, but I’ll take it.
I search the docking bay, and my eyes settle on a bulky object over on the far side. It appears untouched by the chaos, but it’s covered by some sort of dark tarpaulin so I can’t see what it is. It looks big enough to be a ship—bigger than the shuttles, at least.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing.
Ian stops cursing long enough to look. “Well, I suppose if we’re desperate,” he says, eyes narrowing. “And I think we can all admit that we are.”
“Oh, hell no.” Max looks horrified. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Come on. I know you have no better ideas,” Ian says, lifting a brow.
“What is—” Princess Kalinda starts, but Ian is already striding away. She looks at me, and this timeIshrug. They clearly know what’s under the tarp, but whatever it is, Max doesn’t think it’s the answer to our salvation.
All the same, we’re running out of options.
Ian stops beside the tarp-covered object, then grabs onto the cover and starts dragging it off to reveal the sorriest-looking spaceship I have ever seen. Not that I’ve seen many, but I don’t need to have to know that this thing is a heap of junk that looks like it hasn’t flown in a millennium. TheCaelestisis in better shape—in its current state.
“Oh, you havegotto be kidding,” Kali snaps, looking at Ian like he’s some kind of particularly gross breed of slogg.
“What’s the matter?” Ian taunts. “Not good enough for you, Princess?”
“That flying death trap isn’t good enough for any sentient being,” she answers coldly. “No wonder it seems like such a good idea to you.”
I’d be devastated if someone said that to me, but Ian just cups a hand to his ear, pretending he can’t hear her. Then he heads around the front of the ship.
Max follows. And—after giving her an apologetic shrug, since apparently that’s how we talk to each other—so do I.
The ship is bigger than a shuttle but smaller than the prison ship, maybe about forty meters in length. The body is triangular, and it sits on landing gear that looks like a tripod and holds it about six meters off the ground. It’s hard to tell what color it is under all the grime—I’m guessing rust-colored. There’s a door close to the pointed end of the triangle. Ian stops beneath it and hits the button on the landing gear, presumably meant to lower the entrance ramp.
Nothing happens.
