Destiny's Blood (15 page)

They had to be.

“Victory, my friend,” Josmere said as she noisily pulled up what could only be the cover to an access tunnel. Layela moved toward the sound and felt the large section of the thickest side of the fountain removed.

“I don’t suppose you know how far these tunnels go, ten-second girl?” Layela asked.

“I did my part, Layl. Now’s your turn to dance.” She could hear the grin in Josmere’s voice, and pulled a small instrument free from her belt, making sure it was well aimed at Josmere’s face before turning it on.

The Berganda winced and ducked as Layela turned on the light right in front of Josmere’s eyes.

“You have a light?”

Layela shrugged. “I stole it from Ardin earlier.”

“Why didn’t you take it out before now!?”

It was Layela’s turn to grin. “I wanted to witness this ten-second ability firsthand.”

Josmere smirked at her and motioned for Layela to lead the way. “Good job, Layela. I always said we could have made a thief out of you.”

“I was once, remember?” she whispered, but the Berganda was too focused on the task at hand to hear.

Layela sighed and crawled into the access tunnel, the metal surrounding them still shiny after all these years. In the reflection of the light, for one instant, Layela saw the eyes of the Kilita. She swallowed hard and pushed the memories deep.

The tunnel was short, leading to a ladder that only headed down.

“Must lead to the docking bay,” Josmere whispered, and Layela nodded, sticking the light in her mouth as she began the descent, the cold biting her hands as she grabbed one metal rung after another. She hoped Josmere’s hands would safely carry her the whole way, especially considering that she was above Layela on the ladder.

At the next level, she silently let go of the rungs and fell onto the small metal landing, an access door right in front of them. Josmere joined her and she punched in the code.

They could hear someone singing. Layela cringed. It was Lang, the navigator, and from the loud singing, it sounded like he had a healthy stash of alcohol on board as well.

“Wait here,” Josmere whispered. “I want to try something.”

Layela wanted to protest, but the Berganda slipped out quickly and quietly, closing the door behind her.

Layela counted her breaths.

Thief’s breaths.

i

The man was drunk, there was little doubt about that, but Josmere didn’t take any chances. Keeping low and quiet, she approached where he sat on the floor, in the middle of the bay by the shuttles.

She had been unable to read Ardin. She only knew of two other people who could stop her powers if they so wished: the Delamores. The legend of Berganda being able to suck the souls out of individuals was greatly exaggerated. She could read their minds, however, and destroy them if necessary. But it wasn’t just an automatic happenstance, as the government seemed intent to believe. The Berganda had to will the mind-merge.

She crouched by the last crate, calculating the steps necessary to reach him. He was still singing, and moving sporadically. She could approach him, if she was fast. She crouched and waited, removing her gloves.

Her ether gloves were yet another useless, paranoid stupidity on the part of the Solarian government. One of so many, really. Wearing them served only to further alienate and frighten people. All of the ether races were forced to wear them, races whose powers were now dwindling and whose people were dying.

She took a deep breath, straightened and walked forward with a confident strut. According to Layela, the navigator was not from the ship’s original crew, and she knew that she could read him even before she touched his cold clammy skin and his eyes bulged in surprise. She followed his thoughts and controlled them, forcing him to show her his knowledge of the ship, of the shuttle, of how to escape with little notice, to which the man had thankfully dedicated much thought.

The man collapsed, unconscious but breathing, and so drunk that he probably would remember nothing in the morning. He knew a lot about the ship’s functionality, its illegal activities and where all the liquor was stored. He also knew he was trapped here, by his own habit and by the captain, who knew a good controllable navigator when he met one and was not fool enough to let him go. At the same time, his memories were clouded by visions of a beautiful blonde woman, her laughter and touch, and such sorrow...Josmere saw the woman’s dead features, felt the drink through his blood, and his detachment from this reality. Too pained by memory, too cowardly to take his own life, he was withering away in the
Destiny
. And he didn’t care, knowing this was as good as he would ever get, hoping it would all end soon enough.

But he knew nothing about where this ship had come from, and little about her crew.

The man’s body shivered and a spasm made him leap off the floor for an instant. That he had been able to take so much with little physical effect was a testament to his spirit. That is, the spirits he had consumed.

She pulled her own mind back, visualizing a clear separation between the two. Once she was confident that she held nothing of him captive, and that her actions would not leave him as inactive as a Collarian mushroom for the rest of his days, Josmere removed her hand from the warm flesh.

She took what little money the man had on him and headed back to get Layela, to make a quick escape in the few remaining minutes before the ship re-entered the tunnel.

She wished he had known more.

She suspected strongly that the crew of the
Destiny
and the Delamores had much in common.

i

“Tunnel access granted.” The computerized tunnel traffic controller beeped on the console.

“Bring her in, Ardin,” Cailan said, and the second-in-command proudly shouted orders to see them safely through. Avienne leaned against her console, bored out of her skull and suspecting the walls of the ship were smothering her. A small notification on her status panel caught her attention.

Thirteen minutes ago, someone had opened the doors to the gardens. And three minutes ago, the bay doors had opened. She checked her instruments, making sure the error had not been at her end. Docking bay access was routed through the engineering panel and Travan would have noticed any unscheduled access.

No error on her end. Travan would have said something, unless someone had blocked the signal to his panel. Tactical was routed differently, which few on this ship knew.

She furrowed her brow and, on a hunch, checked another section of the ship.

Ah ha!
The room where the two women were kept had reopened about ten minutes after Ardin had left them.

Wily little thieves
.

“Thirty seconds to entry,” Travan reported in Lang’s stead. The navigator was off getting drunk somewhere, his job done here for the day.

Maybe he was on the shuttle with the girls? Avienne was certain the two had more sense than that, and was willing to bet that they had even taken one of the clean shuttles. She suddenly felt a chasm open under her feet and unexpected tears welled somewhere near her eyes, a rare and surprising condition.

The
Destiny
groaned as her tachyonic engines came to life. And then she groaned again, and a red light flashed on Travan’s console.

“Tachyonic engines aren’t in synch. Field still unstable.”

Cailan still said nothing, and Ardin was the one who voiced the question. “Should we abort?”

Avienne held her breath. If they aborted, the chances of the shuttle being spotted were high; the decision to reveal them might be out of her hands. The thought gave her no relief.

With a few touches on her control panel, she called up the engineering display.

“Twenty seconds to entry,” Avienne chimed.

“Travan?” Ardin asked. Avienne was amazed that his voice was still steady. If they entered the tunnel without the tachyonic engines’ field protection, they would be flattened to one dimension. A speck of dust would look impressive beside them.

Spotting the shuttle would be better than that!

Destiny’s
groans stopped and she began gently humming, the screen covered by winking lights as the field stabilized and enveloped them. Avienne felt relief and sorrow all at once.

“Ten seconds to entry,” Travan intoned, nodding gravely to Ardin.

“All hands prepare for tachyonic tunnel entry,” Ardin spoke clearly over the ship’s speakers.

The tears still felt near her eyes. But why?

She wished she were on the shuttle with them.

But she wasn’t.

And if she didn’t stop
Destiny
from entering this tunnel, as the Three Fates had failed to do, Layela and the Berganda could easily get a few hours’ head start before
Destiny
could even pursue.

But I need the money!
Avienne bit her lower lip, wanting to say something, anything to stop
Destiny
and get her profit. She looked up at Ardin, proudly standing in the middle of the bridge, guiding the old ship through, his chiselled features as striking as
Destiny’s
must have once been.

You’ll never have to believe you were a kidnapper, or have this shadow hang over you,
she thought, and she smiled. She reached her decision, and the tears vanished before they were shed.

The worst part is,
she thought, looking at her brother and his loyal dreams of heroism that involved neither kidnapping nor a life of his own,
you’ll never know how I came to choose family over freedom.

They entered the great mouth of the tunnel, its blue energies lashing at the ship as the great shutters closed and blocked out the rest of the universe.

C
HAPTER
14

J
osmere sighed in relief as she watched Destiny vanish into the tunnel, only a glittering distortion marking its existence. The stars danced in coats of blue beyond the length of the tunnel, distorted as the wave of tachyon particles stretched before them to create the fastest, most efficient and most dangerous route in the charted universe.

Once in a while, the shimmering length would tremble, and wild, bright colours would travel along it, spread in shapes all intermingling together, as though for one second a portion of the universe was a rainbow viewed through broken glass. That meant a ship was passing, so quickly that a blink of an eye would mean missing its initial splendour, to be left with its scintillating brilliance.

Some races believed that wielding the power of the tachyons was too dangerous, and humanity had paid the price with seizures that had claimed quite a few lives before shutters became obligatory.

But then again, few races aside from humans ever felt the need to leave their homes.
Josmere remembered the history of her own people, passed down from aunt to sprout through the generations.

“Time to go.” Josmere ignited the shuttle. They had remained without power, waiting for
Destiny
to move out of range. It had been a bumpy ride when its engines pushed them forward but, thankfully, the safety belts were high quality. Unfortunately, Layela looked about as green as a Berganda now.

The shuttle’s view changed from the tunnel to regular space, and Josmere waited for the onboard computer to boot and give them an exact location. It wasn’t a new computer system, that was evident, but its star maps should be fairly up-to-date.

“Oh,” Josmere exclaimed as the maps showed their position.

Layela grunted questioningly, her forearm covering her eyes as she leaned back against the seat.

Serves her right for flashing me with that light!
Josmere wisely kept the thought to herself.

“We’re still in Solarian space, although another hour in that tunnel and we would have been in free territory. But…” Josmere paused as she confirmed the nearest colony.

“We’re about equal distance between the Thalos and Griman systems.” She chanced a look at Layela, who still looked just as green, and wondered for the thousandth time what exactly had happened to Layela when she had been missing. Three days held prisoner, until Yoma found her and brought her home; the only time Yoma had ever lost control and killed.

Six months to heal her broken body, and apparently many more years to heal the damage that had been done to her soul. It had been on Thalos IV that Josmere had first met the twins. And when Layela had healed enough, Josmere had chosen to follow them and leave her family’s home.

Two years ago. A lifetime ago. Thalos would be easier. They already knew its cities and temperaments, but…

“I’ll head for Griman,” Josmere whispered as she punched in the command. Layela didn’t reply, still fighting the nausea.

The shuttle’s engines groaned after a minute, and red text flashed across the screen. Josmere frowned.

That can’t be right…
A second later, the engines shut down, and Josmere groaned and leaned back against the seat.

“Don’t tell me,” Layela managed to say. “We’re out of fuel?”

“Battery and sun-power, actually,” Josmere replied, looking at the vastness of space before them. “Low battery, and too far from a star. That drunk must have been on his way to refill her when he decided to fill himself instead.”

Layela groaned.

“We’ve got enough oxygen, thankfully, but we’re going to lose the rest of our power at any…” On cue, the lights cut off, and the soft hum of computers ceased. All that sounded was the emergency beacon, activated automatically.

“At least the
Destiny
should be too far to hear that,” Josmere said.

Layela groaned again. Josmere sat back and waited, grateful there was at least oxygen for her friend.

“Look on the bright side,” Josmere said. “I’ll breathe in your rejected air, and you breathe in mine. We’ll never run out, and…” she leaned over the back and opened a floor compartment, “we have enough supplies to last us a while. Including alcohol, what a surprise! Just you and me, Layl, hanging together in space for days, maybe even weeks!”