Chapter 10
TEN
The sand and suns and air burned, even through the protective suit. Above, the sky rolled in those amazing shades of rainbow sherbet, but Madison’s sense of wonder had long run out.
This helmet didn’t fit as well as the one that was stolen.
It didn’t attach as securely to her suit, so it wasn’t as good at filtering out the fine dust. As a result, her eyes itched from the grit and her nose ran.
Both were itchy and uncomfortable and became maddening by the fact that she couldn’t wipe her face through the clear shield.
She was tired. Her boots felt like they were made of concrete. She trudged through the sand beside Drex, knowing there was nothing else to be done. They had no alternative way of getting someplace safe. Walking was it. So, she walked.
Her mind had long gone blank with exhaustion and hunger by the time a series of domes appeared on the horizon. “Is that real or am I hallucinating?”
“Real.” Drex sounded tired, too. “It’s the Pax-Tuay trading post.”
She sagged in relief. White spots had begun dancing in her peripheral vision. The closer they got to the domes, the more the large station came into focus.
Behind it lay a sea of landing pads for ships.
They were set up off the ground like enormous golf tees.
She watched a ship descend from the sky and carefully land on one of those flat tops.
The ship was far larger than the landing pad, but apparently they didn’t need much.
It did, however, kick up a tremendous amount of sand, which whipped in their faces and choked their breath. Madison coughed.
“Visitors do not typically arrive by foot,” he told her. “To keep Sifters and other criminals out, they hid the few emergency evacuation hatches.”
They arrived to the closest dome. There was no obvious entrance or door. “How do we get inside?”
“I’m trying to remember.” He looked around. She heard him sigh, then he pointed to what looked like a simple mound of sand in the middle of nothing. “That might be it.”
Madison shrugged and followed him. He began pushing sand off the mound, which was easily as tall as she was.
She tried to help, but she was flat out of energy.
Shortly, he uncovered something that looked like a wide pipe protruding up from the sand.
It was twice the diameter of a manhole cover and appeared solidly sealed up.
A scratched, cracked screen gleamed dully beside it.
Of course the hatch would be locked. “Please tell me you know how to open it.”
Drex tapped the screen, inputting a code of some sort, and the lid hissed open. He flashed her a smile. “Virilian Kings are given the codes.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Madison said as she followed him into the dark tunnel.
The hatch closed over them and lights switched on, illuminating a dim shaft down thick metal stairs. Their footfalls rang out until they reached a small chamber. A large door appeared, securely locked.
“We need to be decontaminated before the door will open,” Drex explained.
He pulled off his helmet and indicated for her to do the same.
“Hold your arms out like this. When the lights turn blue, close your eyes and hold your breath.” She mimicked his wide stance and spread arms and braced for whatever was coming.
The lights did turn blue and a loud whooshing sound resonated through the small chamber.
She closed her eyes and held her breath as a blast of scalding air hit her on all sides.
It was all she could do to not gulp in surprise.
Her face stung from the intense exfoliation and she blinked as the lights returned to white.
The door hissed open. On the other side, a bustling world unfolded before her eyes.
Unlike the sparser corridors of Exir City, the Pax-Tuay trading post boiled with activity.
Not just Virilians filled the space, but many species with a variety of appearances.
Most aliens were humanoid, or humanoid-ish, but some moved about in machines or on multiple legs, or no legs at all.
One interesting individual appeared as a coil of tentacles contained inside a clear blob that sort of bounced along.
“Wow,” Madison breathed.
“Stay close to me and try not to stare. Some species see it as a threat.” Drex glanced down at her, brow raised. “Or an invitation.”
“Right.” She took his hand and squeezed.
He turned to her. His gaze moved over her face—she must look frightful.
Concern tightened his features. He cupped the side of her face in a gloved hand.
“You have been remarkably resilient. Let us find a Virilian official to send a squad to the outpost and get some food, drink, and rest.” His thumb slid over her cheek. “I think we both need that.”
Madison could not agree more. The thought of food, water, and a soft bed—or any bed—made her want to whimper. But as they started walking through the busy corridor, someone called out Drex’s name.
They turned. Drex’s hand tightened on hers. A blond Virilian walked toward them. Well, swaggered was a more accurate term. He wore his belts low on his narrow hips and his skin held far more tattoos and scars than Drex’s.
He was obscenely handsome, Madison had to admit, although there was a distinct resemblance between the approaching male and the one she stood next to.
Something about the jawlines and the eyebrows, both of which were expressive and mobile.
Their eyes were the same shocking bright blue shade.
But where Drex was restrained and formal, the blond male had the arrogant strut and somewhat rumpled look of a rock star.
Were there rock stars in space, she wondered.
Probably not. But if there were, this guy would be one.
The blond grinned widely, showing off white, pointed eyeteeth.
Maybe he was a little younger than Drex, but not by much.
He said something in Virilian, which was too quiet for Madison to hear, and Drex’s mouth pulled into a smile.
The two moved forward and embraced. Madison’s jaw dropped open.
She’d never seen great shows of affection from Drex, not even to his great-aunt, but here he was, tightly hugging this male.
Genuine pleasure shone on both of their faces.
The blond male looked at her, then started digging for something on one of the pouches on his belt. He removed a small silver chip, the size of a coin, then appeared to stick it somewhere in the back of his head. With a shake of his shaggy head, the male turned a smoldering grin to her.
“‘Ello love. And who might you be?”
Madison blinked in surprise at hearing a British-accented voice coming out of his mouth.
“I’m…Madison.” She cast an uncertain glance to Drex, who looked amused. “Who are you?”
The blond Virilian dropped into a dramatic bow. “I am Prince Trak Letu, commander of the Exir fleet.”
“And my brother,” added Drex.
“Half brother. We share a father, but have different mothers. Let’s strive for accuracy, shall we?
” Prince Trak’s smile widened as he turned back to Madison.
“You poor dear. How did you get yourself matched with the most boring and boorish Virilian in the known universe? No human deserves such a fate.”
If Madison’s vision hadn’t been starting to turn gray at the edges, she would have laughed at Prince Trak’s assessment. But under the circumstances, all she could muster was a weak smile. “He’s not that boring.”
Trak’s eyes twinkled. “I like her, Drex.”
“Fabulous,” said Drex dryly. “We have just crossed the sands from an old era outpost. When we awoke, my squad of guards had been murdered and all belongings taken. I need you to contact Tagja City and have them send transports there at once.” Drex scraped a hand over his hair.
“Hopefully they will be able to collect the dead before the Sifters return to clean up their mess.”
All traces of humor dropped from Trak’s face.
“Of course. Let me use a secure channel. Everything is monitored around here.” He pulled a small clear screen from his belt.
Madison could see the Virilian symbols of their language.
Trak entered a message and swiped it, sending it off the screen and toward whomever the recipient was.
His gaze tracked up and swung between her and Drex.
“I know the outpost you mean. Only a couple of them still exist in the current era. Am I to understand that the two of you walked here from there?”
Drex nodded. “It’s a long story.”
Trak leaned toward Madison with a puzzled look on his face. “It’s a long way. And she remains upright? Ferias didn’t send you a human female, half brother. She sent you a superhuman.”
“Excuse me?” A female voice sounded from behind him. “Do I hear English?”
Trak turned quickly. “Ah! You get to meet my own lovely mate, Anna.” He slung an arm around a woman—a human one, to Madison’s shock and awe—whose gaze locked on Madison.
“Hi,” said the woman, Anna, who wore long, flaming red hair in a series of intricate braids and a tight leather outfit. Weapons of some sort swung from both hips. She looked beyond badass.
Madison wanted to return the greeting. She wanted to have a conversation without a translator in her ear adding slight delay to everything, but the floor was starting to feel mushy and the world was tilting, swaying like a boat in a storm. Voices blended into a mushy din.
“Uh-oh.” Trak’s voice cut through the noise. “Not superhuman after all.”
Someone scooped her feet out from under her.
Strong arms cradled her against a wide chest. The spicy scent of him was comforting.
It didn’t seem so important to stay awake any longer.
What was the point? They were there, wherever there was, and well, she was just so empty of everything.
Her vision turned to gray, then to blissful black, and all those unfamiliar sounds slid to nothingness.