Inherit the Stars (7 page)

Frevyx
shuddered from a slight gravity flux; Kivita's own ship must be close. She handed the milk canteen back to Cheseia and rolled her eyes. “What's the deal, Sar? You going to magnetize the airlocks or what?”

She unstrapped herself and stood. More strength had returned to her limbs, but she still yearned for a long norm sleep cycle. And to get away from Sar.

“You been doing business with the Sarrhdtuu, Kiv? Your beacon is sending out one hell of a signal.” Sar's voice held a worried edge.

She tried to ignore Cheseia's scornful glance. “Of course not. It can't be that strong.”

“But it is, sweetness.” Did he have to call her that?

Kivita hurried into the bridge. It still smelled like him: faint sweat, freshly washed hair. Newer computer consoles and some sort of projector had been added since their time together. Of course he'd upgraded. He was Sar Redryll, the greatest salvager in the Cetturo Arm, right? Asshole.

Sar's console showed beacon readings beyond human norms. Such a signal would transmit on an interstellar scale, across the surrounding systems. Kivita's
throat constricted. She had her prize and just wanted to leave. Waiting outside the bridge viewport,
Terredyn Narbas
's lonely shape begged her to return.

“Picking up other ships,” Sar said in a low voice. “Someone else has followed you.” He stared at her, then turned the manuals.
Frevyx
neared her ship at docking speed.

Kivita's stomach quivered. “Shit, Sar. Hurry up! Get me aboard, and we'll cut from this system.”

Cheseia grabbed a spike baton from the weapons locker. “Where will you go? Your beacon will be positively traceable.”

“Just get me on
Terredyn Narbas
. No way someone else would come this far from Inheritor Space.” Kivita shook sweat from her lank hair. Her mission grew more complicated and mysterious by the minute, matching a deeper fear.

Others wanted the gem. Maybe enough to kill for it.

Sar snorted. “We'd better leave now, with all of us on
Frevyx
.”

“Like hell we will! I'm not leaving my ship.” Kivita locked stares with Cheseia. The pause from the bridge made her tremble with anxious energy.

“Stand ready for the airlock, Kiv,” Sar finally called from the bridge. “Better trust us. You know I'll track your trajectory, so there's no point in pulling some trick. Wait . . . Got several signals, closing. Cheseia, close the doors as soon as she leaves.”

Frevyx
hummed louder. Gravity relaxed for a second as both airlocks magnetized with each other. Kivita rose onto her tiptoes, ready to jump into her gyro harness and clear Vstrunn as soon as possible.

Cheseia approached the airlock's left side. “Truly, you must follow us. That gem is certainly important—”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up for now, okay? We'll share jiir wine and trade stories about Sar later.” Kivita studied her airlock across the short space between ships.

Invisible magnetic bands kept air and items inside during passage between ships. A still, lifeless void waited in that small space. On her own airlock doors, a fine line had been burned all around the inner opening. Slag pellets floated near the hull.

Kivita jerked back. “Sar! Someone's already boarded—”

Terredyn Narbas
's airlock whooshed open.

“Disarm them!” a female voice shouted from Kivita's ship.

A thin green beam shot out and sliced through Cheseia's spike baton; then three figures in black polyarmor barged into
Frevyx
. A gauntleted fist slammed into Kivita's right shoulder, and she smacked into the bulkhead wall.

“Aldaakian Shock Troopers!” Cheseia brought the baton's lower half onto one's helmet. Shards of polyarmor and faceplate flew into the air. The Ascali ducked a shortsword swipe, then kicked the Aldaakian's chest. The Aldaakian tumbled back into
Terredyn Narbas
's airlock.

“Surrender, Inheritor scum!” the same voice called.

Frevyx
lurched. The magnetized airlocks disconnected by four feet. Two Aldaakians made for the bridge, swords drawn.
Frevyx
shook again, and gravity faded to zero-G within seconds. Everyone floated into the air, save for Kivita and another Aldaakian, whose polyboots magnetized to the floor with a clang.

Cheseia steadied herself on the airlock handhold and kicked another Aldaakian back into
Terredyn Narbas
. One tried to fire a rifle at Cheseia, but Kivita rammed
the Aldaakian's shoulder with her own. The rifle's green beam went astray, melting a lamp socket in the ceiling.

“Check your fire—we need them alive! Point Two, rush the airlock with me!” the Aldaakian with the crushed faceplate shouted.

Two Aldaakians jumped from
Terredyn Narbas
and grabbed hold of
Frevyx
's airlock rim. Sar peeped around the corner and fired a kinetic pistol. The shot echoed in the airlock chamber, blasting off an Aldaakian's hand at the wrist. The Aldaakian recoiled and drifted into the space between both ships.

“Kiv, close the airlock!” Sar ducked back into the bridge as two beam shots melted holes into the corner where he'd taken cover.

Kivita shoved with all her strength against the same Aldaakian, but he backhanded her. Scorching pain lit up her cheek and jaw. Scuffling, both of their polyboot sets loosened from the floor. The motion sent the Aldaakian spiraling toward Cheseia, and Kivita toward the airlock.

“Dammit, the airlock!” Sar called from the bridge. Another green beam struck the corner, ensuring he remained there.

Kivita floated before the airlock, her hand near the release lever. Kicking her feet out, she managed to move herself a few painful inches.

“Surrender!” The Aldaakian female with the broken faceplate swung a shortsword at Kivita. The blade grazed Kivita's left leg as her fingers brushed the lever.

Cheseia shoved the ruined baton into the other Aldaakian's faceplate. Green beams fired from
Terredyn Narbas
. One sheared off the life-support cover on the female Aldaakian's back.

A crack, then an earsplitting pop, reverberated in the airlock chamber. The release of oxygen and cryonic gas flung the female Aldaakian against Kivita.

Kivita bumped into the manual-release lever as a final beam fired from
Terredyn Narbas
. It singed a bulkhead, raining white-hot sparks on Kivita's back. Each nipped her flesh like a bee sting. An Aldaakian clinging to the airlock tried to reach inside, but the sliding doors crunched on his polygauntlet.

Gravity returned to normal on
Frevyx
. Kivita hit the floor on her right side, jarring her bones. The female Aldaakian, still loosing cryonic exhaust, landed on Kivita's legs. The cut on Kivita's leg flared, and she sucked in a breath.

Cheseia, still holding the baton handle, landed on her feet. The Aldaakian she'd been fighting crashed onto the floor, dead.

“Clear the doors!” Sar yelled.

Kivita glanced up. Three gauntleted fingers still wriggled in the sliding doors.

“Back.” Cheseia aimed the dead Aldaakian's beam rifle. With a short zap, she melted away the armored fingers. The airlock closed.

Kivita lay in a stupor, the fire along her leg powering a new set of visions:
schematics on a geothermal harvester. Deep-space asteroid mining.
Technologies she'd never even heard of. She rubbed her forehead and tried to slide out from under the Aldaakian. Blurred colors swam in her vision.

Furred hands shook her back to reality. “Kivita, we must truly leave the system. Strap yourself . . . Sar, she is certainly wounded!”

Kivita sat up as realization stabbed her brain.
Terredyn Narbas
had been taken! With effort, she pushed the limp Aldaakian off her legs. The sword graze burned hotter. The spark burns on her back simmered.

“No! Not without my ship! Damn it, Sar, don't you dare!” Weak legs propelled her into the bridge with a mind of their own.

Sar keyed in coordinates with flurried strokes, using his left hand. His right held the pistol—aimed straight at her. “No choice now. Strap yourself in.”

“Don't you . . .” Kivita suppressed a whimper and had to lean against the corner. “I swear I . . .” Every word sapped energy, stole her breath. Their eyes lingered on each other's. The pistol in his grip didn't waver. Her knees did, and she sank to the floor.

Red and yellow warning lights flashed on Sar's console. Outside the viewport,
Terredyn Narbas
drifted away, with three Aldaakian bodies floating around it. Kivita collapsed, her eyes still on Sar's. He lowered the pistol and sighed. Was that sympathy in his face? He thought she was finished? She forced herself back to her feet, lips trembling with raw words.

Over the curvature of Vstrunn, three small shapes grew larger. More ships had arrived. Fear clawed a ragged pit into her heart.

“Damn you, Sar,” she whispered before pain, exhaustion, and anxiety sent her into darkness.

•   •   •

Sar turned away from Kivita as she plunked against the bulkhead and slid to the floor. Did she think all this was his fault? The console's scanner beeped again. Three more shapes had entered beacon range, two large and one small. The latter was perhaps a shuttle. He keyed in jump coordinates of a last resort.

“Cheseia? Brace yourself back there.” Leaning out from his chair, Sar tugged Kivita toward him, then lifted her onto his lap. She breathed heavily, eyes rolling back into her head. A cut ran across her left leg a few inches above the knee. A fresh bruise spread itself across her right cheek and jaw. Dozens of tiny holes on the back of her bodyglove smoldered.

She looked dirty, pitiful, vulnerable. A little stringy from too much exercise and not enough decent food. He gingerly touched her lips.

She was still more beautiful than he remembered.

He pressed the jump activation button, switching
Frevyx
's engines to light-drive mode. The bridge viewports sealed shut, and the entire ship vibrated. A short jerk glued him and Kivita to the seat as gravity fluxed a few seconds. Sar's stomach knotted for a moment, then relaxed.

Vstrunn and the other ships were far behind them. He wondered for how long.

“Sar, hurry back here instantly,” Cheseia called from the airlock chamber.

Sar rose and strapped Kivita into the chair. As his fingers wiped sweat from her brow, the image of a galactic arm filled with blue stars entered his mind. Sar had never seen it before. Touching her had never sent images into his thoughts before, either. He suppressed a shiver.

“Sar?”

He tore away from Kivita and hurried to the airlock. Scorch marks and dried slag pools marred his clean ship. Two Aldaakians in polyarmor lay on the floor, both of their faceplates busted open. One, a male, had a melted half baton shoved into the bridge of his nose. Polyarmor
and glass shards crunched under Sar's boots as he halted over the other body.

Kneeling beside the prone figure, Cheseia looked up. “This one truly lives. She must have been their leader; she shouted orders to them after I roughly shattered her faceplate.”

“And you?” Sar picked a glass shard from her silky mane.

She nodded. “I am truly well. Kivita was—”

“Grazed. We'll patch her up after taking care of this one.” No point in saying anything to Cheseia about what he'd just saw. Besides, he didn't need an argument with her now about old feelings for Kiv.

The Aldaakian's albino face bore sharp cheekbones, a pert nose, and thin lips. She lacked hair, even eyebrows. Sar had heard Aldaakians bred away all hair follicles through a strict eugenics program.

“What do we actually do with her?” Cheseia shot him a narrow-eyed look. “I will not mercilessly kill her.”

“Agreed. Time to ask her some questions.”

They carried the dead Aldaakian into the second airlock. Sar sealed the inner door; they'd strip the armor and dispose of the body later. Cheseia poured bleach solvent over the blood pool where the body had lain.

Together, he and Cheseia unsnapped the polyarmor's locks, then pried it from the female's body with a suctioning noise. While she moaned, Sar bound the Aldaakian's wrists and ankles with flexi cables.

Underneath the armor, she wore a skintight, blue-gray uniform. Cryoports along her body sealed with a small hiss. Each cryoport was an inch in diameter, round, and rose above her smooth flesh half an inch. A flat stomach and toned musculature testified to rigorous conditioning.

“Perhaps the Aldaakians truthfully hired Kivita after all?”

Sar rubbed the stubble on his chin. “No, I believe what she said. Dunaar will—”

The Aldaakian awoke with a grunt. Sar and Cheseia stepped back.

“Stay.” Sar aimed the pistol.

The Aldaakian said nothing, her white-within-azure eyes boring into them. Her cryoports shriveled, then widened.

“Name?” Sar asked. Aldaakians, like humans and Ascali in the Arm, spoke Meh Sattan. Inheritors claimed the Vim had taught it to everyone.

The Aldaakian glared at him.

“We definitely do not sell captives into slavery, like the Inheritors do,” Cheseia said in low, smooth tones. She lifted the Aldaakian from the floor and carried her to the bench outside the bridge. “We truly will not harm you.”

The Aldaakian still didn't reply, though her eyes softened.

Sighing, Sar ran a hand through his hair and holstered the pistol. “Ascali vocal tricks don't affect Aldaakians. Secure her. I'm going to give Kiv a thogen dose; then we need to enter cryo. Got an Aldaakian pod this one can use, if she behaves herself. And answers my questions.”

He entered the storage room and thumbed through the medical cabinet. Slings, cloth bandages, cold packs, blue tape, crushed thogen barnacles, and other items came under his perusal. He sighed again, deeper.

“We surely saved her and the Juxj Star,” Cheseia said from the doorway. “Stop unnecessarily blaming yourself.”