“They’re approaching Earth from behind the moon,” Grisham said. “Damned sloppy. I’m surprised they haven’t been detected by ground-based personnel.”
“Monitor the Twitter feeds of the conspiracy theorists,” I offered. “They break all the UFO reports first.”
“Here we go,” Grisham said, ignoring me, but leading me to believe he had a line on Earth-based communications, even from within the aurora field. “First query away.”
“I hope they don’t set up camp,” I muttered. “We’ll be effectively under siege.”
“They won’t,” the captain replied. “Your world isn’t desirable.”
“We like it,” I protested. “And you certainly seem to have found a use for it.”
“We like the world, Ms Selkirk, but your species is crazy.”
I bit back a laugh.
“Second query from civilian telescopes. The Orseggan sighting is being escalated to military channels.” The old man leaned back in his chair.
“Ms Selkirk,” he said, “I can scarcely believe it, but it appears your scheme has worked. The scout is reversing course to the asteroid field. I expect they intend to use it as cover to round the sun and have a sensor scan of each planet on their way out of the solar system. They clearly didn’t expect us to be in system. They aren’t looking that hard.”
I grinned at the muted cheer that went up. Something sharp lodged in my heart, making the backs of my eyes burn. Was that happiness?
“Merry Christmas,” I said. I met Trygg’s gaze and played my trump card. “Now, open a door and let me walk away?”
Carrollus scowled and tensed beside me. “No.”
I bridled.
“The cold and the terrain would kill you within minutes, Ms Selkirk. Commander,” Grisham said.
Desperation shot through me. “Teleport me home!”
“Ms Selkirk!” Grisham snapped. “Our orbital position is no impediment to returning you!”
“No time like the present,” I shot.
I didn’t realize I’d dug my fingers into the arm of the chair until Carrollus covered them with his warm hand. “Returning you is power-intensive. If we send you home now, we can’t lift off for hours.”
Recognizing that the danger to the ship now came from my own planet, I slumped. The unhappiness in Trygg’s voice convinced me he was telling the truth.
“Was this a set-up?” I blurted out.
He frowned. “A set-up?”
“To make me feel – I don’t know – like I’d contributed?”
“Humans are still arrogant,” Grisham muttered. “At least some things never change.”
I flushed.
“I wish it had been a set-up, Finlay,” Carrollus said. “Then we wouldn’t have had to risk exposing ourselves to your world. A risk we’re still taking.”
I believed him.
“Lift,” I said. Defeat by my own moral code – that insisted my concerns take a back seat to their survival – tasted sour.
“You heard the lady. The ISS sensor has lost the Orseggan scout behind the sun. Put out some rocks to simulate a meteor landing and wake us up in preparation for departure,” the captain commanded.
“Yes, sir.”
Systems woke slower than they’d gone to sleep. Grisham estimated the Orseggans had passed Neptune’s orbit by the time Carrollus issued the command to fire the engines and take us out of atmosphere.
Acceleration hit, pressing me into my chair. I gathered that some property of the ship buffered us from the worst of the g-forces. I could still breathe.
We were pointed right at the rippling river of neon light twisting like a living thing above us. The ship shook, squeaking and protesting at the mistreatment.
“We’ve been spotted,” Vran said, “doesn’t look like the fighters will overtake, though.”
Despite the assurance, I waited, nerves tingling in anticipation of a missile strike. The magic of the Northern Lights would shield us again, if we could get to the other side before the F-15s closed.
It seemed like hours before Vran yelled, “Exiting atmosphere!”
“Get us under cover!” Grisham ordered. “Keep us out of sight!”
“Yes, sir!” several voices answered.
We leveled off and the ride smoothed out.
Grisham released his restraints and rose.
Carrollus unfastened his, and then leaned across me to press a series of buttons on the arm of my chair.
The web holding me to my seat released me.
“Ms Selkirk,” Grisham said, “you’ve saved our lives. I doubt you’ll ever know what that means to us.”
Registering the regret in his voice, I levered myself to my feet. The icy pulse of fear in my gut made me waver.
Trygg closed a hand around my upper arm to support me.
The resulting shower of internal fireworks annoyed me.
“Don’t you dare tell me I’ve seen too much and that you can no longer afford to send me home.”
“That is the problem,” Grisham said.
“It isn’t,” I countered. “Do an internet search on UFO abductions. Have a look at how the people who report them are treated. No. Wait. I’ll demonstrate.”
On autopilot, I stuck my hand in my jacket pocket. My cellphone was still there. Why?
Commander Carrollus didn’t strike me as careless. He’d have searched me. Why leave me my phone?
Had he assumed it was useless on the far side of the moon?
We weren’t out that far, yet.
I yanked the phone out of my pocket and lit the screen. One bar. Must be a satellite still in range. Lucky me. I hit “quick dial” for Jill, and then punched the “speaker” button. The line clicked twice, and then began ringing.
I caught the concern in the old man’s face and, shaking off Carrollus’s hold, I put distance between us.
Jill picked up mid-ring.
“Fin!” she said, her voice carrying through the room. “How’d the interview go?”
“You’re on speaker,” I said.
“So I hear. The interview. Spill.”
“About that,” I said. “Turns out the interview was a front for a bunch of aliens who’ve kidnapped me for sex. I’m not going to make your Christmas party.”
Alarm spiked in Grisham’s face. It warmed my heart.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Jill grumbled.
I turned the phone and an I-told-you-so glare on the old man.
Carrollus, trying not to smile, seemed abruptly to find the toes of his boots fascinating.
“I really won’t make the party,” I said.
“It went that well?” she prodded, her tone riding high on excitement.
“That remains to be seen. I can’t say much.”
Jill gasped. “You’re under NDA already?”
“I suppose a non-disclosure agreement is one way to look at it,” I said. “Look. Jill, you aren’t going to see me for a while.”
“This isn’t you trying to get out of the holidays, is it?” she grumbled. “You aced the interview and now you’re holed up in some secret lab? That had better be some damned fun research.”
Carrollus stared at me.
“I can’t answer that,” I said. “And this will be the only call I’m allowed. I’ll have to give up the phone in a minute.”
“How long will you be gone?” she demanded.
I pinned a meaningful look on Grisham. “Unknown.”
“You have to be back in time for Christmas,” she protested.
“I’m nobody’s present, Jill.”
“Because you’re afraid to care for anyone, again. That’s your Christmas gift from me to you, my professional, psychiatric evaluation. No charge. Finlay. What do I tell the school?”
“Nothing.”
“Your students will think—”
The phone went dead.
I rubbed my forehead and tried not to see the sudden concern crinkling Carrollus’s brow. I handed him the phone.