Perilous Hunt by Lindsay Buroker
Leonidas removed his helmet for long enough to take a taste, then replaced it quickly as more of the ceiling came down. He handed the bag back to Alisa.
You will not escape, boy, a voice rang in her head like a gong.
Ostberg glanced around.
“Uh,” Beck said. “Did anyone else hear that?”
“We all did,” Abelardus said, skidding around a corner and kicking another fallen panel as he ran.
“I’m not a boy,” Alisa pointed out.
“It’s not for you. It’s for Thorian.”
“Is that crazy fool going to collapse the entire base to get him?” Beck asked.
“He might,” Abelardus said. “He might.”
Chapter 21
The earthquake continued to shake the entire base, maybe the entire asteroid. The lights in the corridors went out again, so Alisa and the others were guided by the power of their flashlights as they dodged falling panels and leaped over debris. A thunderous roar came from somewhere below them.
“One of the levels under us collapsed,” Abelardus yelled over the noise.
“We’re almost back to the airlocks,” Leonidas said. “Keep running.”
“Do I look like I’m not running, mech?” Abelardus leaped over a panel, still leading the way.
“Maybe you should call him Leonidas,” Alisa said, her breaths starting to come in pants, “now that he’s saved you from falling to your death.”
Abelardus raced around a corner and should have kept going—the entrance to the docking area was just ahead—but he skidded to a stop, his arms flailing. A thirty-foot-long portion of the floor had collapsed, revealing the floor on the level below. No, the floor several levels below. A room directly under them had fallen through the floor after having the ceiling collapse onto it.
“Falling to my death could still happen,” Abelardus growled, recovering his balance, his toes nearly curled over the ragged edge. The floor groaned as he stepped back.
“Run and jump,” Leonidas ordered as more panels came down around them. One bounced off his shoulder, leaving him chalky with white dust. “Alisa, you can do it in your armor. Beck, grab Ostberg.”
“What?” Ostberg blurted.
Leonidas picked up Abelardus, hoisting him over his shoulder and eliciting a startled, “What?”
Leonidas waved for the others to clear the way, then ran and jumped. Actually, it was more of a dive, since there wasn’t much ceiling height above him. Like an arrow, he flew over the long gap, Abelardus squirming on his shoulder and smacking him on the helmet. Somehow, Leonidas got his legs under him and landed upright on the far side.
Beck grabbed Ostberg. “Here we go, kid.” He backed a few steps. “Turbo boosters on,” he said.
Was that an order for the suit? Did Alisa have similar boosters she could call upon?
As Beck jumped, she wished she had spent more time watching the instructional videos.
Beck didn’t gauge the problem the low ceiling presented as effectively as Leonidas had. His jump took him too high, and his helmet smashed through a panel. From there, he plummeted down to the floor, three levels below. Ostberg yelled.
“Beck,” Alisa blurted, lunging to look over the edge.
He landed among the rubble below, finding his feet in the mess, even though the floors continued to shake. With Ostberg still over his shoulder, he leaped over the piles, raced twenty feet, and jumped up, the servos in his leg pieces allowing him to reach their level again. Leonidas had set Abelardus down and caught Beck, helping him find his footing.
“That was amazing,” Ostberg shouted, having recovered from the startling fall.
“We could have done it on our own,” Abelardus growled.
Ignoring them, Leonidas waved for Alisa to come next. Reassured that Beck had survived falling, she backed up for a running start. She sprinted and leaped, trying to mimic Leonidas’s arrow-like dive rather than Beck’s route.
At first, she sailed over the hole, feeling almost as if she were flying without a ship, the rubble-filled floor below blurring past, but she lost momentum too soon. She lifted her head as her momentum slowed, and grimaced when she saw how far away the others still were.
Leonidas stepped forward, extending a hand. She reached for him, but fell even further before she reached his spot. Her belly slammed into the edge of the floor at his feet, and more of it dropped away under the impact of her armor. She scrabbled for something to grab onto and clasped her fingers around a red leg, not realizing Leonidas had already gripped her by the utility belt.
He hoisted her up, setting her on her feet. She struggled to keep her balance as the floor heaved again.
As they took off, running for the airlocks, shouts came from up ahead. The soldiers? No, some of those shouts belonged to young voices. Children.
Alisa’s heart leaped in her chest. Jelena?
Propelled by the notion, she sprinted into the lead, passing Abelardus and Beck. She could hear Leonidas thundering behind her, probably intent on catching up so he could run in first in case of danger, but she only ran faster, terrified that Jelena would get on that shuttle, and that it would fly away before Alisa saw her.
She sprinted into the docking area so quickly that she struggled to stop. She spun as she slowed down, staring across the chamber at twenty people in black robes. Some of those people were young—the children. She thought she spotted Thorian, recognizing him only from old vids on the news, but she skimmed over him, searching for—there. The familiar reddish-brown hair, the freckled cheeks and nose… that pert little nose. Alisa swallowed. The black robe Jelena wore was too weird for words, but it didn’t matter, not now. All that mattered was that Alisa had found her.
She opened her mouth as Jelena turned, but she couldn’t utter anything. Relief and delight and more emotions than she could name tangled in her throat, making a lump she couldn’t speak around.
One of the Starseers, a stern-looking, gray-haired woman, flung out a hand. Before Alisa knew what was happening, a wave of energy crashed into her, knocking her from her feet. She flew through the air like a forceball hurled by a star player.
“Jelena,” she managed to cry, realizations flooding her as she sailed away from her daughter. First off, Jelena wouldn’t have recognized her in the head-to-toe blue armor, and second, the Starseers had no way to know she was on their side.
She crashed into a wall at the far end of the chamber from them. A loud thud and grunt sounded a few feet away, Leonidas striking into the wall right beside her.
“Jelena, it’s me,” Alisa cried, as she crumpled to the floor. She sprang to her feet, yelling, “Don’t go!”
Abelardus and Ostberg sprinted out of the corridor, lifting their hands.
“Friends,” Abelardus blurted, as Ostberg yelled, “Lady Westfall, it’s me.”
It might have been wiser to wait until they had it all figured out, but Alisa couldn’t do it. She ran toward the group again, tearing at her helmet fasteners. “Jelena!”
“Mom?” the query floated across the room, wrenching at Alisa’s heart. It sounded so uncertain.
“It’s me,” Alisa said, slowing to a stop a few meters away, but only because a couple of Starseer men had moved to protect the children, their staffs up. She finally got the damned helmet off, dropping it on the floor. “I’ve been looking for you forever.”
She couldn’t keep herself from sending a quick, scathing look toward the Starseers, but her gaze locked back onto Jelena right away. She wanted so much to lunge in and gather her in her arms, but fear blossomed in her heart, the fear that Jelena would reject her, that she would be mad or feel betrayed after so long.
Jelena pushed between two boys, walking slowly, numbly, her hands out to steady herself. The quake had subsided—Alisa wasn’t even sure when that had happened—but she looked like she still needed her balance. Alisa felt the same way. She stepped forward, prepared to punch any Starseer that tried to block her.
“Jelena,” she whispered. ?
“It is you,” Jelena whispered, rushing forward.
Alisa lunged forward to meet her, throwing her arms open.
“Armor,” Leonidas warned from somewhere behind her.
Jelena hugged her, and, thanks to Leonidas, Alisa remembered not to squeeze too hard when she hugged her back. Later, they could do this again without the armor. Tears flooded her eyes, and she buried her face in Jelena’s hair. Finally. Finally.
She might have stayed like that all day, but her comm clicked in her ear.
“Captain, we’ve got more trouble coming,” Mica said.
No, Alisa did not want more trouble. She wanted to take Jelena aboard the Nomad, give her the tour, show her the cabin she hadn’t let anyone else have, and then make chocolates with her. Why couldn’t they do that? Why did there have to be more trouble?
Tymoteusz and several of his people are close enough now that I can sense them, Abelardus informed her, his mental voice sounding more distant than ever. They’re definitely flying this way.
Alisa forced herself to release Jelena even though frustration bubbled through her veins. Why couldn’t she at least have five minutes of peace to sniffle all over her daughter?
She tried to wipe her dripping eyes with her armored sleeve, but the cold, hard material did not allow a satisfying wipe. She glowered over at Leonidas. “Why didn’t this suit come with a handkerchief?”
He lifted his eyebrows behind his faceplate. He’d come closer, but not too close, and stood a few feet away, his rifle pointed toward the corridor. Those imperials would probably circle around and catch up soon. Meanwhile, the adult Starseers were glaring at him as if they wanted to throw him in a volcano.
“If you put your helmet back on, you can activate the snot sucker,” Leonidas said.
“Snot sucker?” Jelena asked at the same time as Alisa.
“Not the official term for it, but it’s what the troops call it.”
“What do you call it?”
He shrugged. “The snot sucker.”
Jelena started to giggle, but then she looked longer at Leonidas, clad head to toe in his red armor. The lighting was poor in the docking area, but there was enough for her to see what he wore, what he was.
“He’s a friend,” Alisa said, resting a hand on Jelena’s shoulder. She could explain the rest later. Much later. When there was the time for awkward conversations. Right now, it didn’t matter. Jelena was here. And she was going home—back to the Nomad—with Alisa. Even if Alisa had to beat down twenty Starseers to make that happen, it would happen.
“Mom?” Jelena frowned up at her.
Alisa lifted her hand, afraid she might be inadvertently squeezing with the super-powered armor.
Jelena poked her in the stomach. “Why are you wearing a blue can?”
“It’s a long story. Why are you wearing a black bathrobe?”
“It’s a long story.”
Beck, who had stopped beside Leonidas, snorted. “I can see the resemblance.”
“See it or hear it?” Alisa asked.
“Both.”
“Captain?” Mica said insistently. “There’s another ship coming in. The imperials aren’t moving to intercept it.”
“Isn’t their warship stopping up the exit?” Alisa asked, remembering that they still had to figure a way out of this asteroid. “The chasadski ship shouldn’t be able to get past them, right?”
“Chasadski?” Jelena mouthed.
“It’s not a very big ship,” Mica said. “It’s like the imperials haven’t noticed it or they think it’s too insignificant to turn and face.”
“It is not insignificant,” Abelardus said, glancing toward the ceiling, as if he expected the earthquake to resume at any second.
“Maybe their conversation with Alejandro is distracting them because it’s so scintillating,” Alisa said, though she couldn’t imagine anything Alejandro said being described as scintillating.
“No,” Mica said. “I cut him off.”
“We have to go,” the gray-haired Starseer lady—Westfall—said, pointing toward their shuttle. “Thorian, come.” She frowned at the boy.
Thorian, a thin ten-year-old boy with shaggy, sandy hair in need of cutting, had walked over to face Leonidas. He had the most somber face Alisa had ever seen on a kid, and even though she was chiefly concerned about Jelena right now, she couldn’t help but feel for him. Here was someone who had lost both of his parents in the last year, his only brother a couple of years earlier, and now people wanted him dead, or they wanted to use him, all because of who his father had been.
“It’s good to see you, Colonel Adler,” Thorian said, formally and solemnly.
“You, too, Your Highness,” Leonidas said, taking one hand from his rifle so he could offer it to the boy.
Thorian looked like he needed a hug more than a handshake, but she didn’t know how well they knew each other, or if that would be welcome. To Alisa’s surprise, Leonidas dropped to one knee and bowed his head. Alisa had never seen him demonstrate obeisance to anyone. Even though she knew he’d had superior officers he had obeyed, it was unsettling to see him on his knee in front of a boy, as if he was waiting to be commanded. Or swearing loyalty.
She hoped he never had to choose between her and the empire. She didn’t want to have to face a moment when she learned that he would choose it over her.
“We have to go now,” Lady Westfall said, striding toward Thorian.
“We can go with my mom,” Jelena said. “Are there really brownies, Mom? Thor didn’t know about you, but he said there were brownies on the other ship.”
Abelardus smirked at Alisa.
Westfall frowned. She seemed to be in charge of the children, perhaps of all the Starseers. There were a couple of gray-haired men, but they did not appear authoritative. Maybe they were the researchers that Bravo Six worked for.
“We have shields and e-cannons too,” Alisa said, hoping to sway the adults. She doubted her little team could take the children against the collective will of the Starseers, not easily, and would prefer to simply get everyone aboard the Nomad. They could sort everything out later.
“Shields and weapons will be of no use against the Staff of Lore,” a young man said.
“Durant is on my ship too,” Alisa said, thinking they might want to be reunited.
“Durant will also be no use against the Staff of Lore.”
Alisa might have pointed out that she hadn’t noticed that he was of any use against anything, but clangs came from the corridor.
“The soldiers are coming,” Leonidas said.
Beck pulled one of Mica’s grenades off his utility belt. “Want me to make them reconsider coming this way?”
“They want me,” Thorian whispered, turning haunted eyes toward the corridor. “But they’re not my father’s men. They’re… I don’t know them.” He turned his gaze up toward Leonidas. “You’re not with them.”
“No. They’re Senator Bondarenko’s men,” Leonidas said.
“Bondarenko.” Thorian’s eyebrows flew up. “He betrayed my father. And my mother. And everyone there at the hidden asteroid base. He’s the one who told the Alliance we were there, that the place even existed.” His face grew pinched with worry, and he looked toward the Starseers and then toward Leonidas, like someone seeking protection.
Alisa wanted to grab him and push him behind her. Or behind Leonidas.
“Do you know that?” Leonidas asked, his eyes intent, as if the answer mattered a great deal. “Or is that something you heard from others? I remember speculation—”
“No, I know,” Thorian said in a rush, his words fast. “I saw it in his mind last year. I was with my father when they were talking, planning the defenses of Perun. I told my father, but he didn’t know how far to trust my abilities, didn’
Alisa would have laughed at the idea of him being so much more mature and reliable now that he was ten, but he did appear mature and reliable in that robe. He was taller than Jelena, the top of his head coming to Alisa’s nose, and she could see him being as tall as Leonidas and Ostberg someday. If he lived long enough.
“All right,” Leonidas said, frowning toward the corridor. The heavy fall of boots sounded, along with grunts and orders as the soldiers navigated some obstacle.
“You believe me?” Thorian whispered, gazing up at him.
“I do.”
Several of the Starseers started moving without saying a word. They headed toward the airlock hatch leading to their shuttle. Four of them headed toward Thorian and Jelena, determined expressions on their faces.
“You’re not taking them,” Alisa said, stepping in front of Jelena.
“But, Mom. That’s Sammy and Juan. They’re teaching me all about—”
“Adler,” came a shout from the corridor.
A red-armored figure—Sergeant Yakuri—tried to race out. He slammed into an invisible barrier blocking the passage, striking so hard that he bounced back and crashed into several soldiers.
Even so, Major Sinclair made it to the barrier. He banged on it with his fist, glaring first at the Starseers and then at Leonidas. His eyes bulged behind his faceplate when he saw Thorian standing next to him.
“Adler, grab the boy. That’s an order!”
“Leonidas,” Alisa murmured into her comm, “let’s take the children and get out of here. We can sort out who belongs with whom later. Once we’re away from Tymoteusz. Abelardus and Mica say he’s coming.”
She held out her palm toward the men coming toward her—did they truly think she was going to let them take Jelena again?
Leonidas had a similar problem. He’d stepped close to Thorian and was glowering at two male Starseers approaching him.
“He belongs with us,” one said. “It’s what his father wanted.”
“Yes,” Westfall said. “It’s what’s best for the children. All of them.”