Chapter 67

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Once Connor felt sure that the lizard-things banging against outer airlock hatch wasn’t a problem, he backed out of the airlock to join the others in the cargo bay. They were spread throughout the space closest to the airlock, slumped and many of them still gasping.

For a second, memories of the last days of the Nyango Revolt filled Connor’s head. People were starving, dehydrating, and growing sick from exposure. They stank after weeks without water to shower.

His team had fallen into this condition after little more than a day.

But where Wentz’s rebels had never been broken, the team looked beaten and battered. It wasn’t just the difference between the resilience of someone wed to ideology and hired mercenaries, either.

The problem was a literally inhuman enemy.

He took his Asp from the pile of gear someone had dropped near the inner airlock hatch, checked the magazine, then propped it against the bulkhead.

The clanging against the outer hatch continued.

Each strike made Yemi flinch.

Connor patted the mechanic on the shoulder. “They can’t penetrate that hatch.”

“Yemi says risk is foolish. Kill lizards. Kill lizards.”

“We will. We need to recharge and think this through.”

Farther back, Lem helped Martienne to her feet. “I believe I should give Martienne a look.”

Selen didn’t look up from where she was reloading her pistol, so Connor took a few steps. “Please do, Lem. Let me know if you need any help.”

“I will.”

The pilot’s head came up, and it seemed to Connor that she might have had a grateful look about her. Then again, she was so banged up, he wasn’t sure if she was fully aware of what was going on around her.

He’d have to check on her soon. She was getting too old for field work, and he should have argued harder to leave her behind with the ship.

Her and Drew.

Selen had nixed the idea. “We’re one team. We all take the same risks.”

Was that eating at her now? Should it? They would have to talk about it.

Later.

Connor paced. He searched for words. What could reach his teammates—his friends?

Family. That was the heart of it. They were a big, dysfunctional family.

He stopped, back pointed to the airlock. “We can’t let this tear us apart.”

Vicente shrugged. His head came up, bloody from the last struggle with the lizards. “They already did, Boss.”

“No. They killed two of our family. They didn’t kill us.”

That brought the Moon brothers and Aubriella out of their lethargic staring into the middle distance. They focused on Connor through narrowed eyes.

But they didn’t challenge him.

He pointed to the airlock. “We made it through those woods. We survived those bugs.”

Yemi wiped grime from his face. “Yemi cannot fight bugs and lizards again.”

Mosiah nodded but didn’t voice his thoughts.

But Selen voiced hers. “What happened out there, that was Drew’s fault.”

Connor almost lost his balance. Blaming the outcome of the battle on Drew was wrongheaded and unfair. It was also divisive, creating an easy bad guy for everyone to hate, except for when people didn’t already hate that bad guy.

He held up his hands. “It’s far too early to try to pin the blame on—”

“It was her fault, Connor. She was high as a kite. She had no discipline.”

“She wasn’t using.”

Selen grabbed the corner of a crate and pulled herself up, then she made her way to Connor on unsteady feet. “You know that?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Connor had been afraid Selen would ask that question. “Drew and I had a talk.”

“A talk.” Selen glanced at the rest of her team. “And you believed her?”

The question was for the team, not him. “I do.”

“Well I don’t. She lied. All the problems we ran into came after you hired her back on.”

There it was: Drew was the problem, and he had been the one to hire her. This was Connor’s fault. That wasn’t going to be explicitly stated, of course, but it was the methodology: divide and conquer.

Now he faced two options: fight it out with Selen, or step away.

The whole idea that Drew was at fault was absurd. It didn’t feel right in the least.

But it was clear in the team’s eyes that a fight was the wrong way to go right now. They were looking for answers, looking for proof that someone could be trusted. Their leaders had just taken them into a wood chipper.

Connor massaged his forehead. “This isn’t productive, and what we need right now is productive discussions.”

Selen pressed her fists against her hips. “What would be productive?”

“We need to know what really happened. How did those bugs get up on us?”

“You said they were burrowing.”

“They came out of the ground, yes. They burst out from under stone and dirt. That’s not an effective way to attack. How did we miss them? If they breathe, if they come to the surface when it rains or when they hunt, there should be holes.”

Gregor scratched the stubble on his soft cheeks. “They did not want to be seen.”

The confusion coming off the team was palpable. They weren’t in any condition to think this through.

Connor paced back to the airlock and pressed a hand against the hatch. It barely vibrated despite the lizard things attacking it. “We’ve got audio and video from the battle. We’ll need to see what we missed.”

Selen rolled her eyes. “That’s not a priority.”

“I’ll look at it. I need you to unlock my account.”

“Unlock your account?”

“It was locked out when the ship had its power outage.” Hadn’t he told her? He was too tired to be sure.

She waved his concern away. “We’re in the middle of a problem.”

There it was again. She’d framed it so that challenging her at all would lead to a fight. It would be disruptive, damaging.

Somehow she had mastered putting him on the defensive, keeping him off-balance.

Fine. He could let it go for now and talk with her later about the greater problem they faced: Mosiah.

Connor glanced at the old man, who leaned back against the bulkhead.

That was who was really at fault. He hadn’t warned them about the threats on the planet, or the bugs in the ruins.

For a client, he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about success.

And that should have set off Selen’s alarm bells but hadn’t yet.

Why? Connor needed to figure that out, or no one was going to get off this planet alive.