She wasn’t much older than Michael and Layla. He turned toward her and sighed.
“You had your entire life ahead of you,” he said, “with a promising job on Discovery and a home in the sunshine—something so many of us literally fought and died for.”
“And I killed to protect it.”
X sat down in the chair across from the bunk.
“I was evening the playing field for the war that is inevitable,” she said. “You’re much older than I, and I know your gut tells you this won’t end well for our people.”
“So, we shouldn’t even try to live in peace? We’re supposed to fight to the last people standing?”
Ada shrugged. “I don’t regret what I did for myself, but if it hurts anyone else, then I’m sorry for that.”
X was gratified to know that she had done the crime for her people and not just to avenge Katrina.
“I loved Katrina,” X said. “I miss her terribly. But I know in my heart she would have wanted us to assimilate peacefully with the Cazadores.”
“I disagree,” Ada said. “She was a warrior. She would have wiped out their soldiers or, at the very least, never allowed them to keep their weapons.”
“You think she would have executed everyone who could fight?”
“I think she would have considered it.”
Ada got off her bed and walked over to the window.
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked with her back turned. “Maybe the way Javier killed DJ? Bash my head in like an animal?”
X could hear his knees complaining as he got off the chair. Getting too old for this shit.
“I still haven’t decided what the hell to do with you, kid. You have put me in a very bad spot.”
“The Cazadores are killers and cannibals,” Ada snarled. “They killed our captain and executed many of my friends, including Bronson, an old man who could hardly walk! We can’t trust them. You can’t trust them.”
She turned from the window, her pretty freckled face illuminated in the moonlight. All trace of the innocence X had once seen in her gaze and joyful smile was gone.
It wasn’t the first time X had seen a young person transformed by death and despair.
“I don’t trust them, kid,” X said.
“Good. Because if I were you, King Xavier, I’d be a lot less worried about what to do with me than about what Santiago plans to do with the crew of Discovery out there in the wastes.”
TWELVE
Captain Les Mitchells stepped into the launch bay, where the divers were suiting up.
“The refueling station on the coast has been damaged,” he announced. “And it appears the former crew is dead. General Santiago has no way to get his tankers ashore without our help.”
Magnolia knew what this implied, though Arlo clearly didn’t.
“What’s that mean?” he asked. “Without our help?”
“It means we’re going to give them a ride,” Michael said.
Yup, Magnolia thought. Maybe this time, we don’t drop ’em to their deaths.
“Look, this sucks for them,” Edgar said, “but we already took some damage descending through that storm, and this is a red zone. Why we got to risk our skin?”
“You don’t,” Les said. “I need only two divers for this mission, and you’re not one of them.”
The captain looked at Magnolia. “Mags, I want you to join me.”
“Wait. What?” she said.
“I need someone fast and agile and experienced on the surface,” Les said.
Arlo raised a hand. “I’m the first two things, Captain,” he said.
“You’re also the greenhorn,” Michael said. “But—all due respect, Captain—why are you going? Shouldn’t you stay on the bridge?”
“Because I owe them,” Les said.
Magnolia grumbled under her breath. The captain felt responsible for the crew of the Lion. They had trusted him to pull them into the sky, and he wanted to atone for their murder, which had happened on his watch.
“Fine, I’m in,” she said after only a slight hesitation.
“Thank you,” Les said. “Grab your gear and meet me in the hoist bay. The rest of you, be ready in case we need a team for support.”
“Captain,” Michael said, “I think we should send a few divers down to that tower to see what happened to the crew that was—or is—stationed here.”
“Absolutely not. We’re here for fuel, and that’s it,” Les said. “I will not risk a team for data collection.”
“What about Cricket?” Magnolia asked.
The robot chirped, and Michael frowned. He obviously didn’t like the idea of sending out his robot, armed with just a blaster. But it was safer than sending in divers.
“You okay with that, Commander Everhart?” Les asked.
“I’d rather go with Cricket,” he said with a sigh, “but I guess I can send it out alone.”
“Good.” Les walked toward the door, then stopped. “Absolutely no diving unless I give the order. Anybody who jumps the gun won’t get the luxury of shoveling shit with Ted.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Michael replied.
Magnolia nudged him with her elbow as she walked past, grinning.
He didn’t grin back. “Be careful down there, Mags,” he said in his all-business voice. “I got a bad feeling it wasn’t a storm that destroyed this outpost and killed those Cazadores.”
“We think alike, Tin.”
He handed her one of the laser rifles. “Just in case.”
Magnolia crossed the open launch bay, feeling the other divers’ eyes on her. No one seemed to like this mission, but there was nothing they could do to change the captain’s mind.
And part of Magnolia understood his decision. Not that she liked it, but she respected it. They had made a pact with General Santiago, and she would uphold their end.
Cinching down her helmet, she headed belowdecks, where Les was already getting the hoist cables down. Alfred and another technician pulled open the hatch levers. Both wore protective suits against the toxic air.
“Timothy, retract turbofans four and six,” Les ordered over the open channel to the bridge. “Be careful of the Sea Wolf.”
“Don’t worry, sir,” replied the AI. “Sea Wolf is secure.”
A deep rumble sounded underfoot as the two fans were retracted into their compartments. Les threw the strap of his laser rifle over his shoulder and bent down to help the technicians.
“Move us into position and tell General Santiago to have his men secure the cables to the first tanker,” Les ordered.
Magnolia peered down through the opening.
Star Grazer was directly below them now. On the deck were two old-world trucks with tank trailers. A third vehicle, which looked like a troop transport, was also there. A dozen soldiers in full armor waited to board.
The cables lowered, and Cazador mechanics jumped up to secure them to the four loading points on the troop transport. Magnolia put a harness on over her armor. Les, already in his harness, moved over to an open hatch in the hoist bay. The narrower cables here were meant for smaller cargoes.
“See you down there,” he said.
Les went first, clamping his descender onto the hoist cable before sliding downward into the darkness.
Magnolia had done this only a few times and would have much preferred diving to using the harness system. It spooked her every time she slid down past the turbofans, knowing that if those whirring blades were ever reversed, they would turn her into shark chum. She bent down and watched Les touch down on Star Grazer’s deck.