Chapter 111
Chapter One Hundred Eleven
Connor stood to the right of the Hudijin’s outer airlock hatch, Asp dangling down, two improvised grenades ready in his palms. On the opposite side, Elise held her Orion assault rifle. The Moon twins lay on their bellies, weapons sighted on the outer airlock.
It was cool in the airlock, the air almost fresh, already mostly cleared of the worst stains the planet had left on the big ship.
What would it take to power the rockets up and blast off?
It was tempting, but Connor could never do that. Leaving his teammates behind was out of the question.
He sucked in a breath. “On three.”
The others nodded.
“One. Two. Three.” He shouldered the actuator, and the hatch shuddered open with a reluctant grinding and clanking.
Then…silence.
In the Hudijin’s floodlights, the Badger stood alone. Its roof was stained a dark purple in spots, and long shapes rested in the middle of some of those spots.
Bones, Connor realized.
The scorpions had defecated on the vehicle, then they’d left bones in those dark piles.
Or they’d somehow swallowed large pieces of their prey and digested the meat and carried the bones inside. It seemed unlikely, but Connor wasn’t about to question how alien creatures worked.
After all, carrying bones of the dead around just to deposit them on a vehicle rooftop spoke of premeditation and cunning bugs shouldn’t have.
He edged down the ramp, ready to toss the grenades up into the air.
Nothing erupted from the ground or dropped from the ship’s roof.
“It’s clear.” Connor deactivated the grenades and put them back in the tool bag.
While the Moon twins provided cover, Connor and Elise loaded the Badger, then he gave the underside a quick inspection. The moss below showed signs of disturbance, as if the bugs had crawled underneath, but there were no cracks or leaks or other hints of damage.
He waved the Moon boys out, then locked the ship up.
A few minutes later, they were headed back toward the Lucky Sevens, once more settled into that comfortable zone that balanced speed and energy use.
About twenty kilometers out, Connor tried his radio. “Selen? Do you read?”
There was only a steady hiss.
In the passenger seat, Elise stared at the dashboard display. “They didn’t respond to the Hudijin’s radio.”
“I thought this close in, the signal might be stronger.”
“It’s something on their end.”
She was right, of course. The big ship’s radio could at the very least transmit clearly to the horizon.
Something had gone wrong—had gone worse—aboard the Lucky Sevens.
Connor pushed the speed up a little higher. They could recharge the Badger when the sun rose.
Elise picked at her clean jumpsuit. It was loose on her, something that might have been more snug before her ordeal in the ruins. “Do they know?”
‘They’ meaning the twins, who were asleep, rocking in their harnesses.
“I don’t have anything to tell them yet.” But Connor knew that was a lie.
What he’d seen on the security video might have been disturbing, possibly even inexplicable, but it was still something known, something he could share.
Except, he had to talk to Selen. He had to hear from her.
Because it was all starting to come together now, and it didn’t look good for her.
Whoever Gu Li was, whatever that was that had happened to him on the video, he’d hired Selen before. She’d said as much when the man hired the Devils out shortly after Connor became second-in-command.
What did it mean that this same Gu Li had been aboard Mosiah’s old ships?
Why had the mercenaries he’d been working with worn devil patches?
The timing looked bad. That had been around the time Selen said she’d lost Gustav, Connor’s predecessor. It had been just before the massive turnover that had seen the Devils rebuilt almost from the ground up.
Elise rubbed her hands together with anxious energy. “What if that’s her?”
“What?”
“The woman in the video—what if that’s Selen?”
“Then she was here a long time ago. That’s not a crime.”
But why wouldn’t Selen have shared that information? It could have saved lives. Maybe Connor wouldn’t have pushed to take Mosiah’s job.
The dashboard console flashed a notification: They were five kilometers out.
Connor had to fight the urge to accelerate. Already, the wireframe shape of the butte filled the edge of the screen straight ahead.
Just a little bit longer, he thought.
Seconds dragged into minutes. The butte grew larger.
Then it filled the display.
He wheeled around it, watching for the blips that would give away the scorpions flitting overhead. Or maybe the lizard creatures were back, thronging at the top of the low, wide rock.
Nothing rose up to confront the Badger as it sped up the slope, always on the edge of rolling back down or flipping over.
A minute later, he came to a stop at the back of the Lucky Sevens.
There were no lights, no movement.
Connor pulled the harness off and rushed past the waking twins, sliding the side door open and darting up the lowered ramp.
It took three tries to get the airlock hatch to open, and then it was sluggish.
Inside, the cargo hold was dim, the air ripe and thick.
He stopped. “Selen!”
Something clanged overhead, on the deck above.
Swords out, Connor charged up the ramp to the second deck.
Vicente’s head poked out of the galley. “That you, Boss?” The big man looked ready to collapse.
“We’ve tried to radio for the last hour. What’s going on?”
“Things…went bad.” The heavy weapons expert waved a hand at nothing. “The air…”
The recycler…everything had gotten worse.
Someone’s boots clanged on the ladder—spritely, not sluggish.
Selen dropped into view. She was nowhere near as worn out as the big man. “Mosiah collapsed.”
If the old man died, the mission was off. Connor took a step. “We got the other ship running.”
“Operational? It could lift off?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re set. I’ll have everyone gather their gear.”
“We’re moving over now?”
“No.” Selen tilted her head, as if she thought Connor had lost his mind. “We’re making a run for the well.”
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