Eight #3
Na’ashq’ii clicked and pulled its limbs tight underneath it.
She cooed at it. “I know, I know. It takes a lot of energy for you to be loud enough to affect an area of contamination. That’s why we had to come here.
” She waved her arm at the array. “This is going to amplify your voice. All you’ve to do is make the sounds.
You don’t have to be loud, and you shouldn’t have to do it long. ”
She watched the little creature puff up, its armor plates lifting and falling. Then it slowly unfurled all its tentacles. One touched the back of her hand. The other touched one of the nodes.
She nodded, tears running down her cheeks. “Yes, it’s ready for you.”
Na’ashq’ii began the series of clicks, pauses, and whistles that would hopefully save a species from destroying itself.
RENJIK WATCHED AS Na’ashq’ii repeated the sequence, pulsing purple and black, until it collapsed into Willow’s waiting hands.
She leaned back in her chair, cradling it to her chest. He could relate. All he wanted to do was collapse.
They still had a very big problem.
They had to get off the planet. Which meant finding a working spaceship. And avoiding any loyalist patrols that would surely be forming if Na’ashq’ii was successful and the freha enhek had been rendered harmless.
He stood and crossed to the observation windows that overlooked the city.
The military compound to their right was out of the question.
That’s where they’d landed, so he already knew there were no functioning ships there.
A civilian transport hub lay to the left, but it was completely dark. Probably not the best candidate.
Then he spotted a freight dock. The ships were large and ungainly, designed for shipping heavy loads. They also carried several transfer vehicles each. Smaller, more maneuverable craft that ferried goods to the surface of planets whose docks were too small to hold the freighters.
“We’ve to move.”
Willow groaned. “I’m beginning to hate that phrase.”
“We’ve to get off planet.” He swept his arm to indicate the city. “It seems Na’ashq’ii was successful. The first thing the Vekh will do is reorganize command structure.”
She stepped next to him at the window and gasped. “Look, Na’ashq’ii. It worked!”
A wide expanse of black marched across the green surfaces, rendering the weapon inert as it went. Movement at street level caught his eye. They were already starting sweeps. He turned and headed for the door. “Move, Willow.”
She groaned. “Five more minutes, dad.”
“The patrol entering the building will reach us in three.”
That got her moving. She grabbed his belt, leaving his one functioning arm free to wield his graj? and moved as quickly and quietly as he could. He heard the patrol entering the front of the building as they slipped out the back. One obstacle down.
Now they just had to make it about four hundred meters to the shipping docks.
The freha enhek might have been mostly inert, but the fallout was ongoing.
Systems were still shutting down as the remnants of the weapon reached them ahead of the kill switch transmission.
A shuttle fell from the sky in an uncontrolled spin before crashing close enough for the explosion to sting his face with debris.
They were forced to navigate buildings that had fallen, only to be caught by a neighbor which left just enough room for them to walk underneath.
The stress of constant awareness was dull in his muscles. He had to keep moving. Had to get Willow to a transport. Had to get them off planet.
Failure wasn’t an option.
Three times they ducked behind whatever cover was close as a patrol swept by.
The trip was taking far longer than he liked, but he knew any faster would put them at greater risk of being discovered.
They finally stepped into the shadow of a massive warehouse. He allowed his eyes to adjust before pointing at a freighter near the back. Willow nodded. They kept to the wall as they made their way around.
The workers had cleared out, probably at the first sign of trouble. If they were anything like freight workers on other planets, they weren’t paid enough to stick around.
The ship he’d targeted still had lights on, and its engines hummed softly. They’d ignore the bigger ship, but he knew the weapon hadn’t destroyed its—or hopefully its shuttle’s—ability to fly.
“Drop your weapon!”
They were steps from the loading ramp and Renjik nearly groaned. Slowly, he turned and faced the Scozid. Higher ranking, if the sash across its armor was any indication.
Renjik lowered, and then dropped his graj?. He scanned the warehouse, but it appeared the officer was alone. He was betting that hubris would lead it to make a mistake.
He almost smiled when it moved toward him. Just a little closer and ...
Renjik dropped to his knees, grabbed the graj?, swung it up and shot in one smooth motion. The Scozid managed to get a short shot off before it popped.
He turned to grin at Willow.
She clutched her side, a red stain blooming through her clothes. Panic surged through him. He ran, picking her up as he went.
The freighter was huge. He’d never find a med pod in time. “Just hang on. I’m going to get you out of here.”
“I know.”
Her calm voice spiked his anxiety. She should be screaming at him for pulling such a stupid move. He was running blind, but somehow stumbled into the secondary hangar. He scanned the shuttles until he found the smallest—the one most likely to escape notice.
He laid Willow gently into the copilot’s chair and strapped her in. Na’ashq’ii clicked and hissed at him, clearly furious.
“I know, I’m working on it,” he mumbled as he threw himself in the pilot’s seat and smashed buttons as fast as he could with one hand.
He lifted the shuttle from the deck before the door fully closed.
It was a straight shot out of the belly of the freighter, then a hard right turn to exit the warehouse.