Avalon

CHAPTER 11

THEY MADE THEIR WAY BACK TO THE AIRLOCK AFTER LOCATING the helmet for Cora’s space suit. As Sierra was fitting it over the girl’s head, Jeth signaled Celeste. “We’re bringing the survivors over. Give everybody a heads-up.”

“What? Already?” Celeste answered back, her voice loud enough to make Jeth wince. “Who are they? And how do you know they’re not diseased, or psychos who’ll kill us in our sleep?”

Jeth turned away from the others and walked down the corridor a couple of steps to avoid being overheard. “They’re not diseased or psycho, Celeste. Two of them are our age or a little older and the third’s just a kid.”

Silence answered him, the pause long enough that he figured Celeste was pacified.

Wrong.

“I still don’t like it, Jeth. Hold up and let me ask Milton if he thinks it’s safe.”

“No,” Jeth said, putting as much authority into the command as he could without shouting. “I’m in charge, not Milton. And leaving them over here is not an option. Now get ready to open the airlock.”

Celeste was silent once more, but he could picture her sitting over there, fuming.

“Fine,” she answered at last. “But if you’re wrong about those people, then I’ll be the one murdering you in your sleep.”

Jeth jumped up and grabbed the edge of the hatch. “Assuming they don’t get you first.”

“Ha. Ha. Seriously, Jeth. Have you thought about how you’re going to hide three new passengers when we get back to Peltraz?”

He gritted his teeth. “Not yet. But we’ll figure something out. One challenge at a time, same as always.”

“If you say so.”

Jeth heard a click as Celeste terminated the connection.

He reached down through the hatch, offering a hand to Sierra, but she waved him back. He obeyed, frowning in surprise as she jumped, grabbed the edge, and then hoisted herself up with perfect ease.

Pretty, feisty, and strong. That was a whole lot to like.

Don’t be stupid, the voice of reason broke in. You don’t need that kind of distraction.

No, he didn’t. Girl distractions were the worst kind. Downright dangerous, as his brief thing with Celeste when they’d first met had taught him. They’d gotten into an argument on a job and nearly been caught by a couple of spaceport guards. They ended their brief romance shortly after, and Jeth had sworn off girls ever since. He focused all his energy on Avalon, the only girl he really wanted or needed.

Once all five of them were crammed inside the airlock, Jeth opened the hatch and climbed out. Then he and the others pulled themselves over to Avalon using the towlines. Vince did it with Cora strapped to his back for safety.

The rest of the crew was waiting for them when they stepped out of Avalon’s airlock into the cargo bay. Jeth had known they would be, but that didn’t make him any less annoyed by it. There were still so many questions he wanted answered, but he couldn’t ask any of them with everybody else hanging about. He’d already made Shady swear not to tell the others about the strange damage on the Donerail. No reason to induce panic.

As Jeth pulled off his space suit, he kept his attention on Sierra. Vince might be the more physically imposing of the two, but Sierra was clearly the leader. And even though he’d told Celeste they weren’t psychos, Jeth didn’t exactly trust them. He’d given their weapons to Shady for safekeeping.

Sierra removed her suit quickly and then scanned the cargo bay with an appraising gaze. For some reason this made Jeth nervous, and he glanced around, trying to imagine what she was thinking.

Nothing good, he decided, taking in the dark stains on the floor. Most of the walls looked as if they were regularly used for target practice. They weren’t—the bullet holes had been there for ages, since before his parents died—but he couldn’t expect her to know that. To top it all off, exposed wiring hung here and there, and the water pipes were so rusted they looked like they might start leaking at any moment. The gray color of everything in the place, combined with the dim lighting, gave it a cavelike atmosphere.

She must think Avalon’s a dump. Jeth resisted an insane urge to start defending his ship to this stranger. It wasn’t like him to give a damn about what other people thought, but something about Sierra seemed to challenge this attitude. He decided it was the regal way she carried herself: not stuckup, exactly, but as if she were a princess who’d recently been forced into poverty.

Lizzie punched him in the arm, drawing his attention away from Sierra. “Aren’t you going to introduce everybody?”

“Oh, right.” Jeth motioned toward the crew and rattled off their names. Sierra then did the same for her group.

“So what are you guys still doing alive over there?” Flynn said.

Jeth winced. There had to be a better way to phrase it.

“I believe those questions can wait for now,” said Milton. “I’d like to get our guests up to sick bay for an examination, make sure everything’s all right.” For the first time in forever, he sounded like a real doctor, someone responsible and trustworthy. Like the man Jeth had known as a kid. Jeth might have introduced Milton as a doctor, but he’d done it only out of habit.

Sierra put a protective arm around Cora, who was leaning into her, hiding her face once again. “That won’t be necessary for Cora and me. We’re fine, but Vince has a wound that might be infected.”

Vince shot her an annoyed look that she ignored.

Milton smiled, the gesture making the dark bags beneath his eyes bulge. “I’ll look at him first, but I need to check all of you, regardless.”

“Cora is afraid of needles,” Sierra said, her voice insistent.

“No needles, I promise.”

Sierra opened her mouth to respond, but Lizzie squatted down, putting herself at eye level with the little girl. “Hey there, Cora.” Her voice was warm and friendly, almost childlike. Unlike Jeth, she knew how to talk to little kids. It was another talent she’d inherited from their mother. “Do you happen to like kitties?”

Cora peered around Sierra’s side and bobbed her head.

“I thought that might be the case. Well, it just so happens I have a kitty. His name is Viggo. Would you like to meet him?”

Delight lit Cora’s face. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, then.” Lizzie stood and grinned at Sierra. “I’ll bring Viggo in while Milton examines her.” She winked down at Cora. “Kitties make everything less scary.”

Cora giggled and for the first time stepped away from Sierra, who looked ready to haul her back again any second. Jeth supposed he couldn’t blame her for being protective, considering what they’d just lived through.

“See?” Lizzie said to Jeth. “Bringing a cat on board was a great idea.”

Before Jeth could finish rolling his eyes at her, she turned and dashed out of the cargo bay, eager to fetch Viggo.

“Follow me,” Milton said, his tone suggesting how less than thrilled he was about having a four-legged visitor to his sick bay.

Sierra, Cora, and Vince fell in behind Milton.

The rest of the crew made to do the same, but Jeth waved them off. “They don’t need an audience. Flynn, why don’t you see about some food? Celeste and Shady, get the spare cabins ready.”

Jeth didn’t wait for confirmation of the tasks, but turned and hurried after Milton before the others could protest.

When they reached the common room on the deck above, Jeth invited Sierra and Cora inside while Milton led Vince up the stairs to sick bay.

As she had in the cargo bay, Sierra surveyed the room with a penetrating gaze, taking in the mismatching sofas and armchairs scattered haphazardly around the large circular gaming table in the center of the room.

The decorations on the walls were a conglomeration of all the crew’s tastes. A man dressed like an old-timey cowboy and carrying an ancient pistol glared at them from a poster with the title of Shady’s favorite movie across the bottom—Harry Rides Again. The cheaply framed photos of a panda, koala, and a pack of wolves had come from Lizzie, while Celeste had contributed the row of tribal masks. Flynn was responsible for the still-life prints that were mostly of food.

Sierra’s gaze fell on the only quality painting in the room, one that had been hanging there as long as Jeth could remember. It had been his mother’s favorite—a fantastical landscape, full of massive trees shrouded in mist and punctuated by plants so colorful no one would mistake them for real, no matter how many planets there were in the universe.

“Do you like it?” Jeth said, unable to resist the question. Sierra seemed transfixed by the painting.

She nodded. “It’s Empyria, right? The lost planet?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Jeth tried to keep the surprise from his voice. The legend of Empyria wasn’t exactly obscure, but he didn’t know many people their age who knew it well enough to recognize a painting of it. The only reason he knew about Empyria was because his mother had been obsessed with the myth. She once confessed to Jeth that the legend was one of the reasons she joined the ITA and became a space explorer. She’d been enchanted by the idea of an ancient, lost planet, one just waiting to be rediscovered.

“It’s also supposed to be the first planet,” Jeth added, “the so-called origin of all life in the universe. Not that I believe that or anything.”

“It’s so pretty,” Cora said, staring up at it.

Sierra smiled down at the girl and then turned and sat on one of the sofas. She patted the seat beside her, and Cora joined her a moment later. Jeth took the armchair opposite them. It was his favorite, the lumps perfectly formed for his body.

A few awkward seconds passed while he tried to decide which question to ask her first. There were so many. Sierra watched him with that same mistrustful expression. Cora was watching him too, but her expression was now more curious than fearful. She was twirling a finger through her hair just like Lizzie sometimes did. He found himself staring back. Cora was so unusual looking, with her white-blonde hair and dark, dark eyes. Exotic, really.

“I like this ship,” Cora said. “It’s bright and warm.” She rubbed her arms enthusiastically.

Jeth smiled. “She’s fast, too.”

Cora’s eyes widened, exposing more of the whites and making her look closer to ordinary. “Oh, can I see? I want to go fast.”

Jeth chuckled. “I’m sure we will soon.”

A huge smile broke across Cora’s face, but it wasn’t directed at him. Lizzie had arrived, carrying a struggling Viggo in her arms. Cora leaped up and raced over to them. Seconds later, she had managed to wrap her arms around the yellow-furred cat.

Lizzie convinced Cora to set Viggo down in the most open area in the room, not far from the door into the galley. The position placed them far enough away that Jeth decided he could ask Sierra some of his questions without being overheard.

“You really had no idea the Donerail’s been missing so long?”

“No, not at all.”

“But how’s that possible?”

Sierra shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “You saw the damage. How’s any of it possible?”

Jeth frowned. Her response seemed believable enough, but her words sounded hollow. He could tell she was hiding something. But before he could press her, Sierra asked, “So what do you plan on doing with us now?”

“What do you mean?’

She rolled her eyes. “There’s no reason to act innocent. I know you didn’t rescue us out of the goodness of your heart. You were hired to find that ship. Probably because of that secret weapon you mentioned.”

Jeth sat up straighter in his chair. It was true, but he didn’t care for the way she described the situation, like he was just some unfeeling mercenary. Well, he was a mercenary when it came down to it, but he cared about some stuff. His crew for one thing, and definitely his sister. “How did you know we were hired?”

She smirked. “You didn’t expect me to believe you were just wandering around the Belgrave for the hell of it, did you?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Her expression suggested she wasn’t surprised by this admission. “So, who do you work for?”

He debated whether or not to tell her the truth, but saw no reason not to. “Hammer Dafoe, governor of Peltraz Spaceport.”

Sierra arched one eyebrow. “You mean the crime lord?”

Jeth scowled. She was far too knowledgeable for her own good. Or for his own good, rather. And this conversation wasn’t going at all like he planned. He was the one who was supposed to be asking the questions. “Yeah, that’s right. What of it?”

“Are you going to hand us over to him then?”

“I—” Jeth broke off, suddenly aware of how defensive he was getting. He shut his mouth and breathed in deep through his nose, trying to regain his focus. Ever since he’d found these people, he’d felt as if the floor beneath his feet had been tipped sideways.

Loud giggles on the other side of the room distracted him for a moment. It was a musical sound, oddly harmonic and soothing.

Fixing his gaze on Sierra, he said, “You’re right that we were hired to find your ship, but you’re a complication I hadn’t planned for. All the passengers were supposed to be dead.”

She swallowed. “We really have been missing for a long time, haven’t we?”

Jeth nodded. “Matter of fact, I was under strict orders not to board the ship at all, which means I’ve no idea what to do about you three now.”

Sierra met his eyes, her expression thoughtful. “Are you saying you’d rather your employer not know we were on board?”

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

A bright smile crossed Sierra’s face. If he’d thought her pretty before, she was stunning now. Jeth blinked, feeling his face grow warm.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Sierra said.

Jeth tilted his head sideways, more of her story coming into focus—a passenger on a smuggler’s ship, the kind of smuggler who didn’t ask questions about who you were or where you were going so long as you could pay. “So, who are you running away from? Or what?”

It was Sierra’s turn to look surprised by his knowledge. “I . . .” She hesitated, uncertain, then her expression hardened. “It’s complicated, and frankly, none of your business.”

Jeth grinned, amused once again by her feistiness. He leaned back, assuming his most charming manner. “Okay. Then I guess you’ll understand why—”

Crack.

Jeth jumped up, his stomach doing a hard dip. He looked around. The loud noise seemed to have come from everywhere.

Crack-crack-crack.

Pinning the direction of the sound, he glanced up. Sierra dashed across the room and picked up Cora, as if to protect her from incoming danger.

“What was that?” Lizzie said.

“It’s happening here,” Sierra said, her panicked gaze locked on Jeth. “Just like on the Donerail.”

All the air vaporized from inside Jeth’s lungs. Lightheaded, he turned and sprinted out the door and up the stairs to the passenger deck. Sierra had to be wrong. What had happened to that ship couldn’t be happening here. Not on Avalon.

Jeth glanced down the row of crew cabins at Celeste and Shady emerging from two of the rooms. They stared at him with matching stunned expressions. Farther down the row, Milton and Vince stood in the doorway to sick bay.

“Did that noise come from up here?” Jeth called. He was careful not to look at Vince, afraid of the comprehension he might see on his face.

“No,” said Celeste.

“Check the other rooms,” Jeth said. Then, swallowing back fear, he continued up the stairs to the bridge.

He froze mere steps into the room as the cracking sounds echoed again, punctuated by a flash of light so bright it blinded him for a second. When his vision cleared he saw that four perfectly symmetrical holes had appeared across the front of the nav station control panel. Each was the size of his fist. Panic rose up in his throat at the sight of them. The nav station monitor was dark, the system offline.

This couldn’t be happening. He charged over to the nav station and started pressing buttons. Then he slapped it with the palm of his hand, desperate for the screen to power on. Without a functioning navigational system they could wander around lost in the Belgrave forever, never finding their way out again.

Jeth heard footsteps behind him and several gasps of fright.

“It’s just like the Donerail,” Vince said, his voice a low, ominous rumble.

Jeth turned to look at him, his terror a wild animal thrashing around inside his chest.

“We need to get out of here,” Vince said. “Before this ship is torn apart.”