oath forger 01 - oath forger Page 8
A metallic screech overpowers the constant beeping of the alarm. Up ahead, some kind of metal barrier is coming out of the ceiling, dropping down.
Captain Embrin aims her weapon.
“No!” Koah dives forward and wedges himself under the weight. “If we shoot the controls, the door might get stuck halfway up, but it might just crash down all the way. Go!”
The hallway is narrow. We can only go one at a time, in a crouch, and we’re semi-paralyzed, painfully slow. Koah is bent half over, strain distorting his face as he grunts and holds the tremendous weight.
When we are on the other side, he still doesn’t jump free. He waits until his two guards reach us, dragging Haras’s paralyzed body under the metal barrier.
I put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Haras doesn’t answer. He’s drooling. He’s affected significantly worse than the rest of us. Either he inhaled more of the mist, or he’s more sensitive to the chemical. The sooner we get him to Merim the better.
We give Koah room, and he pulls free, but the drop door scrapes down his left side, ripping his clothes and his skin. I don’t know if the enormous chunk of metal hit any of his ribs, but I know his side is going to be black and blue.
He shrugs off the pain and takes the lead again, takes my hand, keeps me close.
“Did you get a good look when they uncloaked?” he asks the captain.
“I think it’s one of their new CX-140s.”
“That’s what I thought.” He’s moving as fast as I can follow him. “Built on the old CV-40 base?”
“As far as we know.”
“Weaknesses?”
“None internal. They can’t stand up to sustained and concentrated fire behind the engine block. But we’re past trying that.”
“Programming?”
“Brand new.”
“Do we have any of their codes?”
“Nothing. But rumor has it the same AI who designed their old cross-winged fighters designed these updated freighters.”
“I stole one of those old cross-winged fighters once,” Koah says with smug satisfaction.
“If the ship is remotely operated, why are there hallways and doors?” I ask as we lurch by a side corridor.
“The CX-140 can carry a crew,” Captain Embrin says behind me. “It just doesn’t need one.”
When Koah halts, I don’t have enough control over my feet to stop fast enough, and I bump into his back, mushing my nose into his hard muscles. I peel myself off and peek around him.
We are in the command center.
The captain moves forward, pushes buttons on what looks like a solid glass panel. “Controls are locked.”
Koah lets me go. “We have to find the override.”
A hiss sounds above, followed by the bitter mist. Ah, shit.
“Find the dispensing nozzles and melt them shut!” Koah shouts the order. Then he snaps at me, “Don’t breathe!”
Yeah, great advice, Mr. Lord of the Universe. I pull up my shirt and bury my nose in the material. I would roll my eyes if they weren’t twitching so hard.
The guards and crew are searching the command center in the barely-there light, while the captain and Koah try to find the control panel override code.
The captain drops to her knees first. Nilo is next. Koah is down on one knee, his fingers fluttering ineffectually over the buttons.
When I go down, I go down hard. I gasp for air and get a mouthful of mist. The next second, I’m on my back, paralyzed, staring up at the ceiling. I can’t even blink. Which is how I see a small nozzle, just a dot of black against a background of shadow.
I concentrate with all my might and force my lips to move, manage to say in a weak whisper, “Above me.”
The thin laser beam comes from Koah’s weapon, I think. At least, it comes from that direction.
The mist stops.
“Air scrubber?” He breathes the words.
“The control would be on the maintenance panel.” Miraculously, the captain can still talk.
From the corner of my eye, I see her trying to move to the wall on her left, but she doesn’t make it.
Etchin is there, though, lying face up, the same as me. His hand slowly inches up, and he taps. The panel opens. He pushes one button. Nothing happens. I don’t think he can see the symbols. Before I could grunt to warn him about playing that game, he pushes another.
Whoosh.
The mist is sucked out, replaced by fresh air.
Too late.
We lay paralyzed, scattered on the floor.
As a little time passes, I can feel my lips again.
“What happens if we can’t take over the ship?” I push out the question.
Koah answers. “We will be taken to a pirate settlement.”
“What if we shoot the control panel into pieces? The ship would just stop. Your people probably have some kind of tracker on you, right? They could catch up with us and rescue us.” I get that out slowly, one word after the other with plenty of breaks in between.
I can see enough of Koah’s face to know that he is smiling. “Not a bad plan. With one minor fault.”
I crook an eyebrow, and I’m proud that I can do it.
“Destroying the control panel might stop essential functions. Like the air supply.”
“Oh.”
Silence reins.
Then, out of the blue, Koah shouts, “Regem!”
The most beautiful simulated voice I have ever heard responds. “Voice override granted.”
Okay, it’s not the most beautiful voice in the universe, it sounds like a machine, but it also sounds like hope and freedom, and it nearly makes me weep.
“The old X-wing fighters used to have this override,” Koah says, and I can hear his grin in his voice. “Regem was the code-writing AI’s original creator and mentor.”
“Regem,” he says again. “Alter destination.”
“New destination, please.”
Koah rattles off a bunch of words I don’t understand, but I guess to be some kind of coordinates.
“New destination accepted. Destination of Merim military airfield confirmed.”
We all breathe a sigh of relief.
I try to itch my nose. I can’t. “How long before the paralyzing agent wears off?”
Koah tries to shift closer to me, but doesn’t make much progress. “Can’t say I’ve personally encountered it before.”
“Two to three days, unless it’s administered again,” Captain Embrin puts in. “It’s something new the pirates recently developed for their long-range slavers.”
I groan.
“Are you well, my Ava?” comes immediately from Koah.
“I think I’ve had this before. When I was captured.”
I swear I can feel the heat of his anger across the distance that separates us. His voice is nearly brittle with fury as he asks, “How long were you disabled?”
“I’m not sure. But definitely a few days.” I remember how thirsty and starved I had felt when I woke up, how weak.
An outraged growl leaves him.
Somebody bites back a chuckle.
A couple of seconds pass before I understand what the chuckle and Koah’s freshly dark mood is about. Three days. The indignity! The Krek of Nador, the head of the Worben Alliance, arriving to port flat on his back, helpless.
I can’t help a giggle.
He glares at me.
Nobody dares to say a word.
We all lie there like that, in silence, until Koah finally says, “After we’re rescued, we’re never going to talk about this again.”
Everybody laughs, the sound filled with chagrin and embarrassment. And then everybody promises.
I close my eyes and pray that we don’t run into another pirate ship before we reach Merim.
Chapter Ten
WE ARE IN PORT, in some kind of an infirmary. I’m in a white room with Koah, just our two beds. The others must be recovering somewhere else. There’s equip
ment all around us, but we’re not hooked up to anything.
We had received clean clothes; comfortable, loose pants and a tunic top, all beige.
For once, Koah won’t look at me. I think he’s embarrassed. I find it endearing.
I bet he hadn’t felt helpless a day in his life. It must be a new experience for him.
“Oath Forger.” The words come from the door and sound like a prayer.
Krek Tiam is even more magnetic in person than he was on the screen in Koah’s bedroom. He is taller than I thought, at least a couple of inches taller than Koah, which means he’s probably a full head taller than I am. He watches me as if he’s not sure whether I’m real. For several moments, he remains completely still, as if worried that I’ll disappear.
I feel that instant pull, the awareness, the connection that I felt when I first met Koah. It’s a returning home kind of feeling—walking into the colony, my shoulders relaxing because I can finally let down my guard. Except, I can’t let my guard down here. This is a false impulse. I need to ignore it with everything that I am.
“Stay away from her,” Koah warns him in a tone that promises murder. Possibly preceded by mutilation.
Tiam doesn’t even look at him as he strides forward, his space boots scraping on the floor that’s made of some unknown opaque material. There’s no hesitation in him.
He stops by my bed, and never removing his gray gaze from me, lifts me into his arms, then carries me out of the room, while Koah promises to kill him slowly, using inventive ways. The last I hear is a bellowed threat of disembowelment followed by skinning alive.
Outside the door, Tiam pauses, but only for a moment. I don’t think it has to do with the threats. His fingers flex on me, as if wanting to make sure he really has me. He watches my face, unblinking. His arms tighten around my body.
“He did not protect you well,” he says, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he resumes walking. “You are safe now. I will not let anything happen to you.”
He is so out of this world beautiful that I can’t speak. I’m mesmerized by his eyes, by his silver silk hair.
“Were you injured?” His tone resonates softly, as if somehow there’s a subliminal message hidden in it: You’re home now. Everything will be all right.
“Just the paralysis.” I finally find my voice. “We received an antidote. It’s supposed to wear off in a few hours instead of a few days.”
“I will care for you,” he promises.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To your palace.”
The gears in my brain grind to a halt. I have a palace?
Holy shit. I have a palace.
I try to keep my face neutral. I have a feeling I’m not succeeding, because Tiam slows his steps and studies me with even more intensity.
“Are you sure you’re well?”
I nod. I don’t trust myself to say anything.
I have a palace.
Okay, not me. The Oath Forger has a palace.
So, who would be at this palace right now? Staff? People who know all about Oath Forgers? Will they immediately know that I’m not one?
Oh God, the gig is about to be up.
I’m nauseous. My half-limp arms tighten around Tiam’s neck.
He smiles with pleasure.
He so doesn’t know what’s waiting for us up ahead. Boy, is he going to feel like an idiot when he finds out the truth about me. Please don’t be too mad.
My only hope is that reaching the palace is going to take a long time. I’d like to regain full function before I’m unmasked as an impostor. I’d like to be able to run away when they try to grab me to put me into jail.
I clear my throat. “How long before we get there?”
He grins. He looks at me with as much awe as if I’d invented deep-space travel. And with as much need as I must have looked at Koah’s fully-stocked kitchen.
“I’m as impatient for the two of us to be alone together as you are,” he says.
People we pass stare at us, but nobody is stopping him from carrying me off. In fact, the sight seems to make our audience happy. There’s a lot of whispering. Most of the nurses, doctors, patients, and visitors are smiling. Some are bending a knee. Others are calling out good wishes.
Then we are in Tiam’s private pod, similar to the one Koah had. It seats six, but, Tiam keeps me on his lap.
I can move enough now to slide off and inelegantly hurl myself into the seat across from him. I need a little distance. Okay, I need a lot of distance, but I’ll settle for what I can get.
A hurt look flashes into his gray eyes. “Will you not accept me?”
“Let’s talk about that later.” Questions fill my head to bursting. I randomly pick one. “You don’t have guards?”
“I don’t need guards in Merim.”
“Why did you attack Koah’s ship?”
“We were at war.”
“Not anymore?”
He smiles. “Now you’re here.”
He looks so happy, satisfied to the bone, that I don’t have the heart to tell him that I’m a scam.
He watches me with admiration, but also as if he still can’t believe that I’m there. That makes two of us.
He gives me his undivided attention. Actually, his focus on me is so complete, it’s a little unnerving. I squirm on my seat and decide to sit on my hands so I won’t reach out to touch his silver hair.
“Tell me everything,” he says.
Unlikely. But I do have to tell him something.
“I am from Earth. Dallas Colony. I have a sister there. Her name is Lily. I was kidnapped by pirates, then rescued by Federation agents. I was supposed to testify at a Zebet hearing. Koah was there.”
Tiam’s gaze hardens. “He should have told us as soon as he found you.”
I’m assuming by ‘us’ he means The Five. I don’t ask, because I have a feeling the Oath Forger would know this.
“Everything changes now,” he tells me.
That’s what I’m afraid of. I hate change. I’ve been through plenty of change already. None of it had been for the better.
I smile to make sure he doesn’t catch on just yet, and also to stop myself from crying. I’m too damned emotionally exhausted. Too much has happened in the past few days.
He smiles back, heat creeping into his gaze. Not the we’ve-just-met-I’d-like-to-know-you-better kind of heat. But the I-want-to-lick-you-from-your-toes-to-your-eyebrows kind of heat. Waaay more heat than I’m comfortable with.
His fingers twitch at his sides, as if he wants to reach for me but he’s holding back. “My Ava. You are amazing.”
“Not really.” I swallow hard. “I abandoned my sister to her fate. If I were amazing, I’d be there to protect her.”
“You didn’t abandon her. You were taken.”
“I should have heard the pirate ship sooner. My mother would have. She kept us together and kept us safe while she was alive.”
All I’d ever wanted was to be like her. The one thing I’d wanted most was to keep our family together. I failed even at that one thing.
“How did she die?” Tiam asks.
“Illness.”
“And your father?”
“Left us when she got sick.”
Tiam’s face darkens with anger and disapproval.
“He was the only father I ever knew,” I add. “Lily’s biological father, but not mine. I loved him anyway. He was the man who raised me. I never met my biological father.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want him to think that Earth is a stupid and backward place that’s not worth saving. But he waits patiently, so, in the end, I tell him.
“My mother grew up in the Jackson Colony, the most conservative religious colony of all. They take it as God’s directive to repopulate the Earth. The Elders of the colony assign every young woman at age sixteen to an older man as a wife. He takes care of her. But if she doesn’t produce any children in seven ye
ars, she’s cast out of the colony, and he’s assigned another wife. My mother was cast out.”
Tiam’s expression clearly says he thinks that’s evil bullshit. I can’t say I disagree with him.
“When she was young, she met some traders from Dallas Colony, and she thought they were kind. So, when she was cast out, she walked four hundred miles through barren, hostile territory to Dallas.”
Even though the New Orleans Colony would have been closer. “It took her a full year to reach safety. She was exposed to enough radiation that melanoma killed her years later.” I swallow my grief. “She arrived at Dallas pregnant with me. She never spoke to anyone about what had happened to her along the way.”
I used to beg her to tell me who my biological father was, but she never relented, not even on her deathbed.
I close my eyes.
I’ve said too much. Now I’m embarrassed. I didn’t mean to air all the dirty family laundry in front of Tiam.
The ride is beyond awkward. I can’t wait until it’s over. But also, on the other hand, I don’t want it to be over, because I’m scared to death of arriving at my palace. I wish I could stay in this pod for a few days, just until I can figure out what to do next.
I barely finish thinking that when the pod stops. The door opens. There’s a round little man outside, bowing.
Tiam gets out first. He tries to take me into his arms.
“I’ll walk.” I need to try to walk, in case I need to run away.
His eyebrows wing up. He does not like this.
Of course, my legs fold the second I put weight on them, so Tiam gets his way. As soon as I’m in his arms, he looks supremely happy.
I have just a second to register the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes and the bowing servants that line our path. Because...
Holy shit. The palace.
We’ve landed in an inner courtyard that’s apparently reserved for this purpose because it holds nothing, and the ground is surfaced in some solid material to ease take offs and landings.
I’ve seen palaces on my comm unit. Old stone castles. The few pictures I’ve seen all looked dreary. This palace is airy. It’s all glass and slender white arches atop narrow white columns. Where there’s no glass, it’s open. I see a glass dome farther away, toward what must be the center of the palace. The whole building seems to be soaring. I know my chin must be hitting my chest, but I can’t stop staring.