She struggled not to pull air from the tube. It wasn’t a forced-air system. But the toxic atmosphere had nearly overwhelmed her lungs. It was hard not to start coughing, and that could ruin her suit. She put her arm out of the cockpit and waved her hand in circles, telling Rand to speed it up.
It wasn’t just the fuel, but her eyes were starting to swell again. This time, they were swelling inward.
Probably the low oxygen wasn’t helping. Her head was pounding. She tried not to be scared. What would happen to them . . . to Rand, if she passed out? She had to keep it together. She could collapse when they got away. They had to get away.
“Prepare to release.” Rand’s voice was hollow, sounded strange to her ears. Was it just the helmet’s modulator, or something else? Worse, she couldn’t ask. She fingered the control for the five-hundred-
pounders and stretched her hand so her pinkie could flip the diron bomb controls. “On my mark, Elle.
Five – four – three . . .” The pounding in her head was getting worse, all the way down one side to her neck now. But just a second longer. She could do this. “Two – one – MARK!”
She flipped both triggers and felt the Javelin soar upward like a deployed parachute when the weight dropped. The roar of turbine jets deafened her right ear as they shot upwards past the pursuers. She paused for a second to pull the air tube from her mouth. “Was it a hit?”
“Hit,” came the weak reply. “Good . . . job, E—” Rand’s voice stopped. She reached back and shook his shoulder.
“Rand?” No response. “Rand!” She had to put her air tube back in. But how was she going to be able to navigate back into space? Especially with followers? She thought back to the directions he’d given before they started darting through the trees. All she could do was pray and hope that the ship was already high enough in the atmosphere that there were no structures to hit. She pointed the nose up, put the thrusters on full, and threw off her restraints. They’d make it out or they wouldn’t. But she had to find out how bad Rand’s injuries were.
It was hard work to get him out of his seat. Dead weight was no picnic to move. Once he was in the rear cabin with the helmet off, she gingerly felt his face. He had a nasty cut over one temple that still had a piece of metal embedded. That was probably what had knocked him out. But could she remove it without damaging him further?
The ship shifted then, and something bounced heavily off their shield. Probably a smaller satellite.
Hopefully nothing bigger was in the way. But if there was . . . No. she’d stay with Rand. Keep him safe until . . . She grabbed the piece of metal and pulled, praying it wasn’t in too deep. It was stuck, but not in the bone, and came out easily, followed by a rush of blood.
Elle felt around in the med kit, hoping something would feel familiar. She couldn’t think of anything in there that would hurt him, so she just grabbed what she hoped was an antibiotic and painkiller. Same as he’d given her. Or maybe a blood coagulant. She ripped open a package and fingered the trigger as she put it against his arm. She wouldn’t think about what would happen if she failed. Mostly, she shouldn’t care about anything other than the mission. Again her breathing tube was yanked out. “Damn you, Rand.
Why in the hell did you make me care about you?”
A strong hand reached up and grabbed hers before she could push the plunger. “I could ask the same about you.” His voice was weak but steady. “How about you don’t give me a shot of estrogen, though.
Okay?”
Crap! Was that what she’d grabbed? She let him take away the plunger and heard him rip open another package. The soft whoosh of the shot came to her ears and then another package was ripped open. She felt pressure against her arm. “Two for you. Anti-inflammatory and another painkiller. Then put your oxygen back in.”
A voice came from the cockpit, causing both of them to turn their heads. “Javelin One, do you copy?
Captain Tyler? This is the ESS Discovery. We’ve been instructed to grab the ship and get you home.
We’re being pursued, though, so we only have a minute if you want to hitch a ride.”
Elle’s heart started to pump wildly. Home? She pulled the helmet off Rand’s head and moved forward to the cockpit, toggling the radio. “Javelin One, Discovery. You’re welcome to grab us. Our controls are damaged, though. Can you collect us as we go by?”
After a pause, her heart soared. “Ten-Four, Javelin One. Prepare for forced capture. Strap yourself in tight.”
Rand was right behind her, pushed her forward into her seat. He managed to climb back into the navpit.
She gave him back the helmet. “But people will see your face,” he said.
“You can give it back once we’re on board. Or maybe Captain Tyler died. I don’t know that there’s any way I’ll ever fly again.” She tried to make it matter-of-fact, tried not to think of the implications. He covered her hand with his.
“You’ll fly again. They’re doing amazing things with implants. Until then, I’ll be there, making sure you get whatever you need.”
“What about the rebellion?” she asked softly. “The rush and the money?”
She could hear the smile in his voice as she put the oxygen tube back in. “Oh, I’ll be supporting the rebellion. With your permission, I’ll be ensuring the next incarnation of the Legend of El Tyler.”
She reached back and clasped his hand. They felt the pull of the ESS Discovery and strapped themselves in for the long ride home.
Naturally Beautiful
Jamie Leigh Hansen
One
AD 2084, Shailene Mountains
“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” Mike’s irritable voice growled in his earpiece.
Lieutenant Reid Kincaid’s lips twitched as he edged himself farther over the edge of the precipice at the top of the mountain. It was a very long fall to the dark depths of the valley below. It would be gorgeous when the sun rose, but for now there was just freezing air and the futile search for a heat signature. “Will you keep whining in my ear if I don’t remind you?”
Mike huffed, the sound carrying easily through the earpiece, though he was a good distance away. “The guy’s an ass who doesn’t deserve our efforts to save him.”
“I wonder if that’s what you would have said last year when his miracle cure saved you.” Reid gripped the rocks with his Caldy gloves, thankful for them and the matching sky suit. He could hold on to the edge of this rock all day if he had to, immune to the cold and the rocks trying to dig into his suit. Not that he wanted to, though. Where was that damn helijet?
“Last year, hell, that’s basically what he said in the debate last night. What kind of spit-whack regrets curing all disease?”
“I don’t know, but letting him die like a martyr for his cause will send this country up in flames.” Not to mention leave one incredibly sexy daughter to grieve alone. Seeing her green eyes sparkle with sincerity from every screen was addictive. To see them teary and blurred with grief would suck beyond all telling.
There were no signs of humans below, but the ones responsible for the upcoming explosion were professionals. They would blow up the helijet and search for evidence to take back to their bosses that Dr Josiah Cross was dead at last. Until then, they were entrenched, and Reid would see no sign of their presence. Not that he could quit looking for them, anyway.