The Planet Thieves (7 page)

The hot tip of the talon nestled against Mason's ear. “Captain,” the king said smoothly behind him. “Unless you want to be responsible for the death of this young cadet, tell me where the weapon is. You have three seconds.”

“It's in the main storage bay,” Susan said at once. “I can take you.” Her lower lip trembled slightly, but then she made her face a hard mask. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, the only tear Mason had seen her make since the memorial for the victims of the First Attack.

Mason wanted to die. Whatever the weapon was, Susan only told the king because he'd been stupid enough to get caught. The blame was on him now.

He tried to imagine what the weapon was, but that would be like trying to guess how many stars were in a quadrant. Pointless. But it made him feel cold just the same. It was important enough for the Tremist King to want it, to actually
be here
. It was important enough for Susan to make no mention of it. It was important enough to just be called
weapon,
instead of a proper name.

And now Susan was handing it over. Mason could not let that happen, no matter what.

Every eye was on the king, and Mason couldn't help himself. He twisted out of the king's grasp and looked up at his face. Up close, he expected to see damage to the mask, some scorching or smoke, but there was nothing. He couldn't tell if it was a black surface, or just a hole. Mason expected the king to grab him again, but the king paid him no attention.

He was staring at Merrin Solace.

Like he knew her.

“I don't believe it,” the king said.

 

Chapter Eight

“Let her up,” the king commanded.

The Tremist did as they were told, but stayed close. Merrin brushed herself off and glared at the king, her violet eyes blazing with defiance. There was no fear in her, it seemed, just anger. But her shoulders were bunched, and Mason knew why: having not one but two Tremist behind you, that close … He imagined the nearest one ripping his mirror-mask off and burying a mouthful of needle teeth into Merrin's neck.

“Your name,” the king said.

“Merrin Solace, what's yours?” She tried to sound cool, but the shake in her voice was noticeable. Mason knew it was more from adrenaline, not fear.

A cadet had mistaken her tears of frustration for fear once during a hand-to-hand exercise, and called her out in front of the whole class.
Merrin Solace is a crybaby!
he said.
The Ghoul is afraid!
“Ghoul” was the nickname she was given for the near translucence of her skin. Merrin asked to be partnered with him for the rest of the day. He was very sorry by the end of it.

The king exhaled; through his mask it sounded raspy. This close, it was impossible not to wonder what the mask hid.

“Could someone let me up?” Tom said quietly.

To the Tremist behind her, the king said, “Take her to my quarters. Post a guard of three. Go.” Merrin's mouth fell open. Her eyes locked on Mason's, widening, and she almost cried for help. Mason saw her about to do it: she started to form a word with her lips; a brief sound escaped her throat. But she cut it off by shutting her mouth. The two Tremist yanked her backward out of the doorway. Mason almost said
No
! out loud, almost charged forward, but he swallowed the word and kept still. His training kept him rooted, even though his body yearned to fight. It would do no good to get killed now, when he might have the chance to help Merrin and the rest of the crew later on. Why in the galaxy would the king want
Merrin
not just on his ship, but in his quarters?

“Really, I would like to stand now,” Tom said.

To Susan, the king said, “Captain, lead my men to the weapon.” He patted Mason on the shoulder. “Or this one dies first.” The king picked up his fallen cape and reattached it at the shoulders, even though it had a gaping hole.
Men
, he had called the Tremist—
Lead my men.
They were no men. Mason wanted to spit on the ground at the idea. Men didn't threaten an unarmed soldier.

“Understood,” Susan said as the Tremist hauled her to her feet.

Tom, making sure no one was about to stick a boot on his back again, slowly stood up too.

Susan left the bridge with her escort, just behind Merrin and hers, but not before she made eye contact with Mason a final time. The look said,
Don't do anything stupider than you've already done
.

The king stepped around Mason and kneeled in front of Tom, so their faces were about level. He set his talon on the floor next to his feet, showing his entire back to Mason. Clearly, Mason wasn't a threat. “And you must be the former captain's son. I regret the captain died before she could give me authorization to the Egypt's main computer. You will help me with that.” He clapped Tom on his upper arms and gave them a squeeze. “And you won't make me hurt you. Let's skip the denials—I know all crew are required to have authorization in an emergency.” His voice was perfectly pleasant. As if he was just asking Tom how to operate one of the quick-heaters in the galley.

The part of Mason that was a soldier before everything else, the part he hoped would grow as he got older, was thinking tactically. With the three Tremist escorting his sister to the storage bay, and two escorting Merrin, that left two Tremist on the bridge, plus the king himself. Mason knew he couldn't do anything to the king with his hands alone, but maybe he could scoop up the king's talon in time and fire another shot while the king was distracted. Maybe the talon would cut through his armor in a way the P-cannons could not.

“I could help you with that,” Tom said. “But first you have to go to hell.”

The king actually laughed, but it sounded like a cough through his mask. “Very good, very good. You are a brave soldier.”

Mason inched closer. The talon rested next to the king's knee. Was he fast enough? Was it the right move? He tried to imagine what Susan would do. Being brave was one thing, but making a decision that would put others in harm was another. It was a question of what would happen if he
failed
.

He needed a distraction to even the odds, one big enough for him to escape with Tom.

It was too late to save Merrin: she was already off the bridge. To the king's own quarters, where who knew what would happen to her. Susan needed his help too, but she had a better chance of taking care of herself. And she would tell him to rescue Merrin first, because that's who she was.

Tom didn't laugh with the king. “You killed my mother.”

The king nodded solemnly. “I've killed many mothers.” The talon was still on the ground. Three feet away, at most. Mason visualized the steps he would make. Taking one big step, then grabbing the talon with both hands, then stepping away again before the king could whirl and overpower him. He would have to point it at the king and press the right button, hoping the weapon wasn't locked to a specific user the way some ESC guns were. Firing the talon might kill him on the spot.

Then Mason remembered what the king had said: in the event of a Tremist boarding, the ship was designed to unlock itself to all crew. Normally Mason wouldn't have access to any settings on the ship, but he was hoping that was no longer true. Captain Renner would have activated that function right away, and even if she hadn't, Elizabeth was programmed to do it herself if she deemed the danger level high enough. Mason thought this was about as dangerous as it got.

Now was the time. The king himself had given them an escape route.

“Elizabeth,” Mason said.

There was a chirp, followed by Elizabeth saying, “Yes, Cadet Stark?”

The king looked over his shoulder lazily, like a lion amused that his prey had wandered close enough for an easy kill.

“Lights out,” Mason said.

Every light on the bridge winked out, blanketing them in darkness. The stars were suddenly bright and vivid above them, mixed with the purple streaks of an ancient nebula. Each of the consoles still flickered brightly, but otherwise Mason was hidden.

Until the air lit up with crisscrossing green beams from multiple talons.

“The shaft!” Tom shouted at Mason.

Mason was already heading there. Every room in the Egypt had two points of entry, in case the normal doorway led to an area that was damaged or without oxygen. If the hallway outside the bridge was damaged and the crew couldn't escape that way, a shaft on the bridge would allow them to drop down to a level that was still sealed.

“Stop them!” the king snarled in the darkness. Mason heard his cape flutter, and imagined the king's steel-hard fingers digging into him again. The shaft was in the back of the bridge, near the exit. Mason tried to visualize the room when it was brightly lit, but he felt disoriented, almost dizzy with the rush of adrenaline. He had to make it the whole way through the darkness, with enemies all around.

“Open the shaft, Elizabeth!” Mason shouted, running in what he hoped was the right direction.

A hole of light opened in the floor, and Mason dived through headfirst. He heard Tom hit the tube behind him and yell some command to Elizabeth. The shaft dropped straight down for a level, then curved and dumped them into one of many corridors that connected the two halves of the ship. They slid out right onto a moving track, like the one outside the cadet quarters.

Mason hit the track hard, somersaulting as it scrolled under him, as if he'd jumped from a moving object. Tom landed even harder a few paces back; Mason heard the wind get knocked out of him, and when he looked, Tom was on his back, arms and legs flailing like a flipped turtle. Once he got his bearings, Mason saw that the walkway was taking them to engineering, not crew. The starboard side of the ship, where Merrin
and
Susan would be. Perfect.

“Did it seal behind us?” Mason said breathlessly. He stood up and grabbed onto the moving railing as the wind rushed in his ears, then grabbed Tom's hand to pull him upright.

Tom was grinning. “Not at the top. But I asked Elizabeth to shut the bottom, so whoever came after us is trapped inside the tube.” That made Mason smile too.

The windows blurred by too fast for Mason to see much out of, but they were nearing the end, where the segmented parts of the track would slow them until they could comfortably jog into engineering.

“We need to take the track back to crew,” Tom said, nodding at the parallel track moving in the opposite direction. “My mother told me that if anything happened…” He swallowed. “To her. And the crew. If something happened, it was my responsibility to see the cadets safely off ship.”

If anything happened.
Was that a precaution, or had she expected something to happen?

Mason didn't say,
But your mother isn't captain anymore
.

“They're fine,” Mason said.

“I don't
care
if they're fine—they're still on the ship, so they won't be for long. And how can you say that when you really have no clue, do you?”

The track began to slow.

“I don't. But we can't let my sister give them the weapon. That's the most important thing. You know it too.”

“What was the king talking about?” Tom said. “What weapon? The Egypt is supposed to be a diplomatic vessel between rival ESC bases. She wouldn't be carrying something just called
the weapon
.”

“So you don't know everything, do you?” Mason couldn't help but grin.

Tom said nothing, just raised an eyebrow.

“You know what's more important,” Mason said. “Be logical, that's what you're good at. We're going after the weapon.”

The walkway slowed until they were able to step onto solid ground near the main engineering access. The door was a full level tall, almost ten feet, and opening it would be a little obvious. Mason hustled to an access port that, once opened, would give them entry to the crawl-paths through the walls, where engineers wiggled through to work on hard-to-reach electrical equipment.

“What if I refuse?” Tom said. “What if I go back to the others by myself?”

Mason tried to think of the right thing to say here. After six years of trying to manipulate his instructors, Mason knew he could accomplish more with a subtle touch. So he said, “I can't do this without you,” to appeal to Tom's pride.

Tom took a deep breath. “Then I guess I can't let you get killed.”

Mason nodded his thanks, but was smiling on the inside. Stellan had told him to use his words, and now he did, and it was more effective than violence. The idea wasn't something the ESC focused on very much in their cadet program.

Tom knelt by the wall and opened the access port with his multi-tool, a thin metal rod with a tip that could be morphed into any number of shapes, if one had the skill.
Molecular Manipulation and Practical Applications
was not the most popular class at Academy I.

“Where are you planning to go?” Tom asked, when they were already in the darkness of a tunnel. It smelled like hot electronic equipment. Mason could feel the heat battle with the chill of space, this close to the hull.

“I don't know. We need a plan.”

“I only followed you because I thought you
had
a plan.”

“You can do whatever you want. But I can't just sit around while the Tremist take the Egypt from us. I think your mom would've agreed with me.”

Tom was silent for two full seconds. “Don't tell me what my mom would do. Just … don't.”

Tom didn't speak again, but it was clear he thought it was stupid to wander aimlessly. And maybe it was. But Mason had to get Merrin back. They had a deal, a pact made when they were only in their first year. If either of them were captured, the other would stop at nothing to get them back. They had sealed it with a very formal handshake, and then Mason had forgotten about it over the years. He had figured they wouldn't come across the Tremist for many, many years, until after they were no longer cadets. It was an idea he now found ridiculous and naïve—they were on an ESC warship during wartime, after all, and had been on many before.