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THE BOATS WERE PREPPED, the drone had sent back interesting intel of the planet, but now was not the time to get excited. Lena’s heart did not know that. It hammered in her chest. There was a hand over her mouth and a knife at her neck.
She was in her cabin and had been trying to catch up on sleep before the manoeuvres to get them to the right place for optimum landing. That had clearly interested Fazar and his marines just as much. Her captor, one of the women, by her voice, growled something unintelligible and tugged Lena toward the end of the bed.
“Boofs,” she managed to hiss out between the fingers. The marine had gloves on. At least there had been a point to her adopting neat sailors’ ways in the end. She knew exactly where her boots where, but they were at the end of the bed and she was in the middle with a knife at her throat. The marine followed her move for move as she sat up slowly, an arm all the way round her. Clever. Rowie couldn’t eject the marine into space without taking Lena with her. They’d learned quickly from Rowie’s show of force in the hold, and this had been their response. Smart.
“Move.”
Lena nodded, feeling the blade of the knife press more firmly at her neck. She didn’t want to move suddenly and impale herself. She wriggled her legs out from under the covers, she’d taken to wearing her chameleon dress in bed. It came down to her ankles and was comfortable and breathable. Thank god for high-tech fabrics. She hoped it was warm enough if that was all she was going to have to wear. Her legs were all the way out over the side of the bed, so she shuffled to dangle her legs over. She went to reach for her neatly folded work fatigues, but the marine pulled her tight again.
“No time,” she said. “Let’s go.” She allowed Lena to stand but steered her towards the door. Lena wanted to catch the marine’s eye to show her where the boots were, but she pointed. The marine was close in behind her, her head next to hers, the arm around her the one pressing the blade into her neck, they shuffled forwards in some macabre tango.
“Boofs,” Lena hissed again, frantically pointing down, where she hoped her assailant’s eyeline was. The marine allowed her over to end of the bed, and relieved, Lena wriggled her feet into her boots. It was lucky she had cold feet and slept in socks, who knew how long she might have to wear the same pair now.
While she was wriggling, the marine grabbed her fatigues from on the bed and said, “You get these when we’re away.” Then she got a grip back round her and marched her to the door. It didn’t open. The marine pushed her towards it in frustration, then said, “Open. It.”
Lena had been terrified to open her mind to Rowie because she knew the response she’d get. She wasn’t disappointed. The ship’s mind was a whirl of different scenarios to dispose of the marine, all of her colleagues, Fazar, the drop ship and all. Lena breathed slowly and said clearly in her head, “Rowie, listen to me.” She needed to say it a few times over before the mind of the ship stilled enough for them to communicate. “Rowie. I’ll be okay. Let them take me for now. It’s safest. You can’t save me right now without hurting them. Open the door, and we’ll talk on the way, yeah? Good girl. They don’t want to hurt anyone, they’ve just got a different mission than us is all. Once they’ve gone down to the planet, you can keep everyone else safe.”
The door opened as reluctantly as a door could. The marine pushed her through it. She stumbled in her unlaced boots.
“Concentrate!” said her captor.
Lena replied in her head, with a fixed smile, “I am concentrating. On not letting the ship eject you and me into space, idiot.”
The ship for her part was still iterating possible ways to eject the marine and not her, and it was a lot of work to concentrate on walking in flapping boots and the calming, but being firm with the ship on what exactly she wanted. They made slow progress to the bend in the passage when a shout rang out behind them. It was Janice Coots, still in her guard uniform. When the marine turned both of them round to face her it was down the barrel of a gun.
“Stop right there!” Janice said.
The marine’s own gun poked round Lena’s neck. When had she got a chance to get that out? “Sorry, no can do.”
Bang
Coots fell. Then Lena was pulled backwards briskly and had to scramble-run on tip toes to stop herself falling and being strangled, her ears were still ringing. When they’d rounded the corner, the marine turned them both, twisted Lena’s face into the wall and checked behind them. She made a grunt, pressed a knee into Lena’s back and then proceeded to fumble with something.
More sounds of footsteps and a shout of “medic!” The marine clenched, then was a hiss and a clank. The woman spat something onto the floor and threw what was in her hand. The hissing grew fainter but there was a sharp, bitter tang in the air and a faint fog.
“Move,” said the marine.
There was two hundred metres to the loading bay. Across the doorway to the hold was something that resolved itself into a body as she got closer. Jenny’s red hair was unmistakable. Would they have killed her? Lena’s heart fell. She might just have watched her kill Coots, the marine was desperate enough. Lena tried to stumble over the body by way of kicking the prone form to see if it stirred. It did not. Lena bit her lip. In the hold was the marines’ stubby drop ship and the longer, more refined shape of the ship’s jolly boat. The haze of the field that Rowie had thrown round the drop ship was visible from the doorway. It seemed like the marine didn’t stop to see if the Arohirohi would let them into it. Maybe it was only the ship that got left in the bubble? Maybe people could go in and out. That must’ve been the case, or else how had the marine got out to do what she’d done?
There was a weird static buzz as they passed through the field boundary. On the other side, the ramp of the drop ship was down and Fazar leaned out, “Glad you could join us, snotty. Get her on board, there’s a crate ready.” She was pushed onto the ship and there inside packed tight were all the marines and a good deal of stacked boxes and equipment. The box nearest her was waist height and its lid yawned open.
“Oh, one thing!” Fazar said. The marine she’d been dragged by pulled her round to face Fazar who had something cuboid the size of a small matchbox in his hand. It glowed red on one side. “You are to ensure we get off the ship. This,” he waved the box, “is to ensure that you behave while you’re with us. It’s a bomb. Planted in the engine drive of the jolly boat. You flinch, mess about, or set your friend on us and it’s boom. The radiation alone will kill everyone up here before the ship is probably torn apart. So right now, we’re leaving. Your ship is going to let us go. Your captain is going to let us go. If you misbehave, I’ll kill them. If they misbehave, I’ll kill you.”
She nodded slowly. Now was not the time for heroics. The marine bundled her towards the box. She heard ripping from behind her and as she turned, another marine placed a wide strip of extremely sticky tape across her mouth. The two of them lifted her into the crate. Before they closed the lid, her kidnapper leaned over. “Oh yeah, I promised you these.” The overalls followed her into the crate and the lid shut. Outside she heard the shouting of orders and felt vibrations from the craft underneath her. The closing of the lid should have left her in darkness, but a faint pink glow bathed the inside of the crate. She traced its source to something in the pocket of the ship’s uniform. When she thrust her hand inside, there was something round and warm. What the hell? She brought out her hand and pink light shone between the knuckles of her curled fist. What the hell was it? It was smooth and pearlescent on the outside but yielded to pressure. Lena was sure that it would squidge if she tried but she didn’t want to break it.
She held the thing in her cupped palms, “What are you little egg?”
“You know,” the egg projected back.
The crate opened. Lena jumped, dropped the egg, and twisted to face the lid. Fazar leered down at her. “Making a nest, little rat?” He eyed her suspiciously. “What are you up to, Snotty?”
She went to reply and remembered the tape. She pointed at it.
“I don’t think so,” said Fazar. “I don’t want to know that badly. We are ready to leave. Is your ship ready to let us go?”
“Yes,” said the egg, in Lena’s head. Her eyes went wide, then she got hold of herself and nodded.
“Huh,” Fazar slammed the crate shut. Lena had to duck back down.
Nestled back in her bed of overalls, she wondered how had Fazar not seen the egg? Then it glowed back into life. That was what it had reminded Lena of all along. It was how she saw the ship. As this strangely malleable little egg. And perhaps that was exactly what it was—a piece of the ship. Or a representation like a Vodun poppet doll. A mini-Rowie. Maybe that could keep her safe, Lena hoped so.
