Jordan (20 page)

How?

He slowed to gain a little distance, then roared fire in her direction, using just enough heat to melt the snow without singeing
her wings.

Your turn,
she offered, her mental tone weary.

They switched places, but when she tried to return the favor, she couldn’t shoot fire.
I’m low on platinum,
she admitted.

Not good. Dragons ate platinum and hydrogen to fuel their bodies. But they’d expended huge reserves to retrieve the key. Every
time she’d roared fire, she’d burned massive amounts of energy. Just keeping warm used more reserves, never mind flying against
these gale-force winds. While he could draw energy from the Staff, if her platinum level fell too much, she might not make
it back to the
Draco.

He put extra muscle power into his heavy wings, but his concerns for her safety escalated. With the snow and ice weighing
him down, there was no way he could carry her, too.

Timing would be critical. They had to match the
Draco’
s speed, but they didn’t have instruments to guide them. They had only their keen eyesight, their tired wings, and the tiny
airlock for a target. And a ship that likely didn’t have enough fuel for a second attempt.

When they finally cleared the planetary storms, they flew higher into the thin atmosphere. The wind diminished, but the temperature
plummeted. He tapped one ankle against the other that held the communicator, his signal to the ship.

I don’t see the
Draco. Exhaustion came through her thoughts on a layer of pain.

They’ll be here soon. You go first,
he ordered, and when she didn’t even argue, his concern deepened.
Don’t try to match the
Draco’
s velocity. Fly a little forward, a little high. I’ll signal when to morph. Then grab the airlock and pull yourself inside.

The ship, a tiny dot on the horizon, approached with startling speed.
There they are. Fly closer. Closer.

Wings dipping unsteadily, she was clearly at the end of her strength.

He tried to encourage her.
You look good. Now wait for it. Wait. Wait.
The lock opened.
Now.

She morphed into human form. Reaching out with her arms and hands, she grabbed the airlock’s deck. And dangled. She kicked.
But the wind tore at her, and she didn’t have the upper-body strength to pull herself inside.

No one could cling to the airlock for more than a few seconds. Jordan humanshaped. With one hand, he latched on to the airlock.
With the other, he shoved her inside.

But then the wind was tearing at him, and he couldn’t pull himself up with only one hand, couldn’t reach a handhold with the
other.

Vi scrambled around to face him, braced her feet on either side of the airlock. She held out her hands to him. “I’ve got you.”

He had to release his handhold on the airlock. Had to trust her to reel him in. Her exhaustion flashed through his mind. But
seeing the determination on her face, he let go of the ship.

For a split second, he slid backward. Then she grabbed his hands, heaved, and pulled him inside so hard that he landed on
top of her. Reaching up, he jerked down the handle to shut the outside hatch.

“That was fun,” she panted.

“You almost got us both killed,” he muttered, scowling into her beautiful eyes.

“I just saved your life—”

“Which was only in danger because I had to delay my entrance to push you inside.”

“You wouldn’t have had to push me, if I hadn’t strained my arm saving you from that boulder.”

“I would have shifted out of the way. I didn’t need you to—”

“Right.” She shoved him off her. “You can do everything alone. Fly through hurricanes. Find the key and the Grail. And you
know what? You can damn well sleep alone, too.”

“Hey—that was your idea.”

“A bad one.” She ground her teeth together.

The airlock recycled and she stepped out, refusing to look at him.

Gray glanced from one angry face to the other. “Did you get the key?”

“Yes,” Jordan said.

“Then install the Staff. Our orbit’s deteriorating. You two can kill each other later.”

Never live for someone else’s dream.

—L
ADY OF THE
L
AKE

A
fter checking the bridge and learning Tennison was at the helm and ready to take them out of danger the moment the power kicked
in, Vivianne headed to her cabin. She was certain after Jordan installed the Staff he would go to the bridge, and she wanted
to check the communicator in the cabin and be gone before he arrived.

She opened the cabin door and George raced to her, stood on his hind legs, and demanded petting. It was nice to be appreciated,
and she petted him, then tried to step inside the cabin. “Down, boy.”

When he didn’t listen, she bent, scooped him into her arms, then slid behind the desk. As she settled George in her lap, the
Draco’
s power kicked in.

After opening the monitor’s side panel, she adjusted the circuitry. Had Maggie received the first message? Had she secured
Vivianne’s spare unit?

Vivianne let the unit warm up, then fiddled with the controls. “Maggie, are you listening? Talk to me.”

Vivianne hit the toggle and scratched George behind the ears, welcoming his warmth. “It’s okay, fella. We have to be patient.
Maybe she’s sleeping.” Maybe the system wasn’t working. Or maybe there weren’t any hyperspace wormholes within range of the
Draco
for the messages to pass through. Space wasn’t stable. Or predictable.

Vivianne tried the unit again, and again received no reply. She was about to give up when she heard Maggie’s excited voice.
“Vivianne, is that really you?”

Hot damn. Her machine was working. And there wasn’t any delay—even with light-years of distance. Amazing. “Yes, it’s really
me.”

“Have you found the Holy Grail?” Maggie asked.

Vivianne frowned. “Not yet.”

“The whole world knows your mission now. When you blasted off, the government announced how the
Draco
is going to save us all.”

“Oh.” She recalled their departure and the North American States threatening to shoot them down. Now they probably wanted
to take credit if the
Draco
succeeded.

“Are you close to finding it?” Maggie pressed.

“We’re working on it. Tell me what’s going on.”

“We’re under martial law.”

“Why?” Vivianne’s stomach lurched. Had the Tribes already attacked? Were they too late?

“The politicians are telling us the lockdown is for our own protection.” Maggie sighed. “Maybe it is.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Rumor has it that the Tribes are about to strike Earth. Scratch that. It’s no longer rumor but headline news. And it’s crazy
here. People are looting and hoarding food, fuel, cigarettes, and alcohol. A loaf of bread costs a week’s pay. Yesterday there
was a mass suicide—hundreds killed themselves preferring death to alien domination. People think they’re going to die, so
they do whatever they please. It’s too dangerous to go out. The police can’t keep up. The world is close to anarchy.”

Vivianne’s pulse raced. “Have there been any real attacks?”

“By the Tribes? No. But Iran’s invaded Iraq. India’s invaded Pakistan. North Korea took over the south, and Alaska is trying
to secede. The major powers are doing nothing to stop the rampant violence. People are accusing their neighbors of being part
of the Tribes. Everyone’s suspect.”

Vivianne tried to get a handle on the scope of the problem. “Are you talking about isolated incidents or—”

“I saw a man on the news lynched last night—in Beverly Hills.”

Vivianne swallowed hard. If they made it back to Earth, they’d return to a different world. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, but getting your little machine home was tricky. I was lucky no one stopped me or accused me of conspiring with the
enemy. Or of
being
the enemy.”

“Maggie, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be in danger. Call my office. Have them send over twenty-four-hour protection.
Or better yet, take your husband and kids to my headquarters. It’s vital that you monitor that machine twenty-four/seven.”

Vivianne’s top people knew Maggie was her friend. They’d do as Maggie asked.

“All right. And thanks.” Maggie lowered her voice as if she feared being overheard. “Vivianne, people are saying it’s the
end of the world.”

“They’re panicking.”

“Their panic is scaring me more than the Tribes. I didn’t know civilization could fall apart so fast. Kids aren’t going to
school or to piano lessons or baseball practice. It’s not safe to go to work. We’ve actually boarded up the sliding-glass
doors to prevent anyone from seeing us eat. They might kill us for our food.”

“Where are our government leaders?”

“Watching after their own asses. Probably holed up in some cushy underground bunker with twenty years of food and the military
to protect them against the masses. Yesterday, we had a major brownout. If the power goes down, we’ll lose what little food
we have in the freezer.”

Vivianne’s stomach danced up her throat. “We have food and a generator at Vesta’s Headquarters. Get over there now.”

The sounds of gunshots traveled through the communicator. Maggie lowered her voice. “It’s not safe to go at night. But tomorrow,
we’ll do as you say.”

“Good. And once you’re there, have my people build more communicators ASAP. I want two units in every Vesta headquarters,
so that once we have a plan we can coordinate our efforts. Make sure Lucan gets one, and tell him to use Stonehenge to transport
units to Rion on Honor and Cael’s people on Pendragon. We need all the allies we can get.”

“I’ll try. But I don’t know if the transporter’s operational—”

Vivianne heard the sounds of breaking glass, a child crying, then more gunshots. She bit her lip, waited, prayed her friend
was all right. “Maggie, are you still there?”

Maggie whispered, “I’ve got to go.”

The communicator went dead. Again Vivianne waited, hoping Maggie would come back to assure her she was all right. But she
never did.

George let out a low growl just before someone tried to open the cabin door. Vivianne scooted George to the floor, flipped
back the panel, and turned off her communicator. She yanked open the door, expecting Jordan to be standing there with a scowl
and demanding why she’d locked him out.

But it was Knox. She held out a sandwich and a cup of coffee. “Thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks.” Vivianne sipped her coffee, welcoming the heat and comfort.

“Are you okay?” Knox asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because Jordan is in a mood. Edgy. Dark. And he wants you on the bridge,” Knox added.

“What’s wrong?”

Knox wrinkled her nose. “He said something about picking up some strange energy signal.”

“I’ll go to the bridge as soon as I eat.”

Knox lowered her voice. “I’ve seen Jordan handle much worse emergencies without… well… Look, I heard you two had a fight.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“If you want to talk—”

Alarms blared.

Now what? She shoved her coffee into Knox’s hand. Eating on the run took on a new meaning as Vivianne dashed from the cabin.

“Vi, I need you here.” Jordan’s voice came through her handheld and urged her into a full-fledged run.

She skidded onto the bridge, sandwich still in her hand.

The moment she arrived, Jordan spun around, his hands on his hips, his face hard, his eyes suspicious. “Do you know anything
about these peculiar frequency spikes?”

Clearly, he was still angry with her over what had happened back on Tempest, but they had to put it aside. They needed to
work together.

She glanced at the streaming data. “Why are you asking me about the spikes?”

“Because you’re the communications expert, and the last time we read that kind of energy, a wormhole opened up off the bow.”

“And those cubes found us,” she whispered, her stomach sinking.

His tone was harsh. “Your prototype, did you just use it again?”

“Yes.” Vivianne squared her shoulders. “Maggie answered me. It works.”

Jordan raked his fingers through his hair. “So your experiment probably caused the energy spikes.”

“I couldn’t have known… The prototype’s not designed to open a wormhole, just find existing ones.”

“But the cubes may have homed in on your signal, tracked us, then opened their own wormhole.”

“It’s possible,” she admitted, sliding into the communications seat and studying the readings.

“Captain.” Gray interrupted Jordan’s stare. “Something’s coming through the wormhole.”

“Raise shields,” Jordan ordered.

“Get us the hell out of here,” Vivianne added.

There is music in space, but to hear it you must be still.

—A
NONYMOUS