Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Killan
Ido not understand most of what Lydia is asking, so I focus on the one item I do recognize. “What would I need dynamite for?”
“Widening tunnels?” Lydia suggests with a shrug.
“For that, we use our auger.”
“What’s that?”
“A bore for drilling stone.” I motion with my hands, indicating something about the length of a chair and twice as thick.
“Is it strong enough to destroy the ship’s brakes? If we could ruin one, that’d surely be enough of a diversion to get the crew outside.”
That is not a terrible idea, except… “I do not think it would work. Stone caves are not half as tough as a spaceship.”
“I guess not.” Lydia deflates.
Roan’s datapad, the screen of which is cracked almost beyond recognition, plays the video again, starting from the beginning.
Even more black lines run through the center, as if the datapad is struggling to remain connected to InGal.
I watch as a section of the floor of the arena rises up out of the ground, a lift, bringing with it the three captives.
The female looks not so dissimilar to Lydia, except her hairs are much paler, and they hang limp around her shoulders.
But the way she holds tension in her muscles reminds me of Lydia when she is readying herself for an argument.
Except that this female is about to fight for her life.
My swell of emotions is so powerful that it is nearly debilitating. I feel frozen with conflicting rage and worry—for the female in the video, yes. But mainly for my family.
“New plan,” Lydia announces. “You take the drill and pretend you’re using it to break into the ship’s hull.
If their scanners are clogged up with dust, there’s a chance they won’t realize that the drill isn’t strong enough to do any real damage.
Then, when they all rush outside to stop you, I’ll rush inside and rescue the others. ”
“No.”
“Are you worried about their stun guns? Because that’s a legitimate flaw in the plan, I agree. We could find you a sort of shield so that they can’t hit you.”
“I am not worried about myself,” I say between gritted teeth. “You cannot go charging into their ship and expect to not get hurt. And you cannot expect me to let you take such a risk.”
“I thought we’d gotten past this.” She rolls her eyes as if I am being the ridiculous one in this conversation. “Besides, they’re not going to hurt me. I’m worth more to them alive than dead.”
“I will—”
“If you’re about to suggest one more time that you don’t need my help, I swear I’ll scream.”
I clamp my mouth shut.
“I mightn’t know a lot about space travel or other planets,” she says, not yet screaming, “but I’m guessing Human slaves are worth a lot more money than Ril’os slaves. I’m a rare species, after all. Which means I should be the one taking all the risks, not you. They won’t shoot me.”
“Still no.”
“No?” Her repetition is loaded with scorn. “We’re going round in circles.”
“Because we face an impossible task.”
“Actually…” She turns back to face me, not quite meeting my gaze. “It mightn’t be completely impossible, because I’ve just thought of a solution. I could surrender myself to Atakis on the condition that Sorin and Roan are returned to you unharmed.”
“That—” I can barely speak through my rage.
“I think Briar and Harlee would understand.”
“If you think my brothers will accept such a solution—” There is a roaring in my ears so loud I cannot clearly hear my voice. “If you think I will accept such a solution—”
“Killan,” she says, speaking firmly over the top of my protest. “Of us two, you’re demonstrating an absurd amount of sentimentality.
Which proves my point. I should be the one taking the greatest risk.
I’m far less likely to be shot, and I’m far more practiced at keeping a clear head when destroying other people’s lives. ”
“Sentimentality?” I repeat, disgusted. “Is this what you call me being in love with you?”
There is a slight pause, almost too small to be noticeable, except that I am always paying her close attention.
“A few days ago you could barely stand the sight of me,” she says, her anger a defense against her own so-called sentimentality—if not for me, then for Briar and Harlee, Sorin and Roan.
She is as terrified as I am and doing an equally terrible job of hiding it.
“Don’t let sex cloud your judgement because I let you grope my ass. ”
“You are being aggressively obtuse.” And when Lydia opens her mouth with the clear intention of continuing her tirade, I stubbornly continue. “You cannot fool me into thinking my feelings for you are unimportant in the development of our rescue plan. Do you really think I could survive losing you?”
“Of course.”
“Then you are sorely mistaken.”
Her expression cracks. “I don’t want to be a gladiator slave. But if we can’t think of anything else—”
“We will.” I grab her shoulders with desperate urgency and immediately worry that I am holding her tightly enough to hurt, but when I lessen my grip, Lydia steps closer, resting her cheek against my chest. I wrap all four arms around her, scudding terrified that if I were to let her go, she would do something horrifyingly heroic and desperately heartbreaking.
“I don’t want us to fuck this up,” Lydia says, “because you and I can’t do anything without fighting.”
I close my eyes, hating that she is being reasonable. Hating that she is being intelligent and brave. And hating myself for what I am about to suggest.
“Mayhaps…we have been looking at this from the wrong direction. We do not need an elaborate plan to lure Atakis and his crew off their ship. If they were to see you, they would chase you.”
“Oh, yeah.” Lydia tips her head back to look up at me, her cheek still resting on my chest. “You’re right. I could show myself to them, and then, when they follow…we could set a trap? I could lead them into the house. I could even lead them into the caves.”
We return to the caves, making a mental inventory of supplies and analyzing the best locations for a possible trap. It is with increasing desperation that we enter the first of the lake caves, debating whether Atakis and his crew are greedy enough to follow Lydia all the way down here.
“What about this?” she calls from the other side of the lake, pointing toward the net used to drag the algae from the black water. “Back on Earth, we’re always making traps out of nets.” She turns her gaze ceiling-ward. “If we could string it from the roof, maybe we could drop it onto their heads.”
I follow her gaze. The ceiling is covered in stalactites, but mayhaps I could drill a hook into the stone.
“You have made one of these traps before?” I understand Humans are a barbarian species without advanced space travel.
Yet I had not judged her to be so primitive as to still be using net traps.
“Well, not exactly. But I’ve seen it done. You know, in movies.”
“Akh…move-ings?” I test the unfamiliar word.
“Broadcasts, I mean.”
“Educational broadcasts?” I am determined to remain hopeful.
“More like fictional broadcasts.”
I am less hopeful, but she raises a hand before I can respond.
“That doesn’t mean they don’t work,” she argues. “Lots of fiction is based on fact.”
“Right…”
She glares in response to my obvious distrust. “Well, Mr. Genius, you think of a plan, then.”
“We…that is…we could…” I cast around for inspiration and find nothing of interest except the net.
I hurry around the lake’s edge to Lydia’s side, the metallic footsteps of my boots on the grated walkway echoing through the cave.
I collect an armful of net, running the featherlight mesh through my fingers.
For all that it is not heavy, it is durable and never rusts, no matter how thick the air is with humidity.
“It would make a good trap material,” I agree.
Atakis and his crew would be hard-pressed to untangle themselves if we were to drop it onto their heads.
“The main problem will be convincing them to walk under the net. If we were to hang it from the ceiling, one glance up would alert them to its presence. How do your broadcasts solve such a problem?”
“Well, usually this kind of chase happens in a forest where there are a lot of trees, and the net is hidden in the branches overhead.”
“We have trees.”
“Or sometimes they lay the net on the ground, I think, and cover it with leaf litter so it’s not obvious. And when someone walks over it—” She mimes the net lifting up to encase its victim.
“There is not a cleared space large enough in the forest cavern for us to lay the net on the ground. I could cut down some trees, but it would take time. And we would have to make a mechanism to lift the net.” Such tech might have been easy for Roan to design. Not for me.
“What if we were to lay the net over the lake?” Lydia suggests. “If they were to fall into the water, the net would tangle around them. Does it float when it’s not filled with algae?”
“It does.” I look at the lake. “But it would be visible.”
“Not if we turned off the lights.”
“Atakis would be an even bigger fool than I believe him to be if he were to rush into a dark cave.”
“Okay.” She grips my arm, straightening.
“How about we lay the net over the lake and turn off all the lights but one?” She indicates the light at the farthest end of the cave with her free hand.
“And then I could stand under that light, like a spotlight. Atakis would see me and run forward, straight into the water.”
I wince. It is not a terrible idea, except for the part where Lydia is at risk.
“You would have to run fast,” I say, trying to imagine each step of the plan in action.
“To lure Atakis out of his ship, he would have to see you on the planet’s surface, and then you would have to run downstairs, through the kitchen, down the ladder, down the tunnel and around the edge of the lake to be in position.
If he were to see you walking around the edge of the cave rather than directly through the middle, he will not fall into our trap. ”
To my surprise, Lydia grins, displaying her single rows of blunt teeth. “I don’t think you’ve made the acquaintance of Lydia, the Metal Cutout.”