These fucking things could read her mind. They could grab the thoughts from her fucking head. There was one other time when just a handful of humans with that power had destroyed everything, and they—
The solar wind caressed her, a warm blanket of possibility. The Tyche was empty. The Tyche was full. It was a glass, brimming with amber liquid. It tasted sweet. She was everything. She was the universe.
They jumped.
• • •
The blaring of an alarm, flat, grating against Grace’s ears, snapped her out of any post-jump rush. A red strobing light filled the hold, an automated voice saying Gravitational anomaly. Significant mass detected. Do not engage Endless Drive. Do not—
They jumped.
• • •
October Kohl was screaming. Grace could see the source of his pain, the noise—
GRACE GRACE GRACE GRACE GRACE.
—coming from his mouth and that thing in his back. Now as high as his shoulder blades. Almost at his neck. And then, into his brain. It had taken over like a cranked up co-pilot, and was on to the next phase. Ejecting the real pilot.
You need to take six steps. Those six steps will bring you to October Kohl, and then you will end his pain.
Grace raised her sword, placing her feet on the deck with great care. Her breath was even in her chest. Grace’s sword was trembling, her knuckles white with the strain of holding it. Her sensei said tension would hold her strike back from being true, but she had no other option. She was hurt too damn bad. Kohl had hurt her so much. And now it was time to return that favor. So the thing inside him wouldn’t hurt anyone else on the ship.
Make this your best day, Grace Gushiken.
She ran. Towards October Kohl and his pain. Towards the thing mounting his spine, eating through his flesh. Towards the end of any together that this ship held for her.
Kohl raised his arms to ward the strike, the thing inside him pulling his arms like a jerky puppeteer.
Grace ignored it. She kept the movement going until she was past Kohl. Past his eyes, past his thoughts, her back facing his back.
Remember.
Her eyes were closed, her sword high. She turned in place, her sword — a better slashing weapon than stabbing, but good enough for the job — leading with all her will. Arm outstretched, stance canted forward, she stabbed October Kohl through the back.
Through the creature buried there. And, with a little luck — wasn’t this a lucky ship? The Goddess of Luck? — missing his spine, avoiding puncturing his lungs, and keeping him alive.
Kohl’s body dropped to the deck, felled like a tree. Blood ran from his back, but he wasn’t screaming, and the voice in her head was gone. Not just silent, but absent. No more together, no more Grace this, Grace that.
She dropped her sword with a clang. Bent over, a wave of nausea hitting her, took three deep breaths, and began the slow process of dragging Kohl back to the ready room.
Because, when all was said and done, he was family.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Absalom Delta. The planet, big and blue, sat outside the cockpit windows.
The Ezeroc ship, that huge hunk of rock, also sat in space.
“We jumped. Back here,” said El. “Didn’t we just leave this party?”
“That we did,” said Nate. “We left our coats. Had to come back and get ’em.” He worked the console, bringing the link up to the Gladiator. What was left of the Gladiator. Main drives functioning. Nothing at Helm control worth shit, unless you only wanted to turn starboard. Weapon tubes, dry; PDCs, empty. No atmosphere, just a big engine strapped to a reactor.
Perfect.
“El,” said Nate, “these Ezeroc assholes can read minds.”
“I got that part of the memo,” she said.
“I’m going to tell you to do something, but I won’t tell you before I do it. It’s just going to pop up on the holo there.” He nodded at the holo stage between them. “It’s important you don’t question what it says, even if it looks suicidal.”
“I don’t know if I’m okay with this,” she said.
“It’s not a committee,” said Nate.
“What? No, not that,” said El. “You can’t fly worth shit. You make lousy calls.”
He gave her a brilliant smile. “That’s why I’ve got the best damn pilot in the universe,” he said. “I’ll make the lousy calls. The impossible shots. The hoops you can’t shoot. The—”
“I get you,” she said. “I know what you’re saying. I get it. You’ll fuck something up.”
“Great!” said Nate. “Here’s the thing. I need you to unfuck the things I fuck up. You good with that?”
“No,” she said. “But I think we’re marginally more likely to survive this your way. Roll the dice, boss.”
Nate blinked. “Did I … did you show a minor display of confidence in my abilities?”
“I’m tired,” said El. “My judgement is impaired.”
The Ezeroc ship blinked closer. No drive flare, no spatial distortion field, the thing just skipped over space like it didn’t exist. It was right outside their hull now, floating in space. Hmm. No big rocks coming at them, so what were they doing?
“I wish I knew how they did that,” said El. “We could do with tech like that.”
The comm chirped. “Did you guys just see the Ezeroc ship jump towards us?” Hope sounded breathless.
El looked at Nate, then down at the comm. “Hope? Are you listening in to the bridge?”
“What? First, it’s not a bridge, it’s a flight deck. Second, no. Of course not! I’m listening in to what’s going on in the cargo bay.” She paused. “They just … the energy readings are saying they use an Endless Drive, kinda. Sorta. But not.”
“What’s going on in the hold, Hope?” said Nate. “What’s going on in my ship?”
“So anyway,” said Hope, “it’s a bit weird? Because what’s going on in the cargo bay suggests they don’t react well to Endless Drives.”
“What is going on in the cargo bay, Hope?” said Nate.
“Fly the ship,” said Hope. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Everything will be fine. Hah.” The comm clicked off.
Don’t react well to Endless Drives.
Nate wondered what else they didn’t react well to. There was something going on in his cargo bay—
They infect people through various means.
—and that meant they were running out of time.
“You feel like sunbathing?” said Nate. He clicked the comm, brought up the link to the Gladiator again.
“What?” said El. Then her face paled. “Nate? No. No. Nate? Don’t—”
He sent the commands to the Gladiator before she finished talking.
They jumped.
• • •
The holo was bright red, the flight deck bathed in the color. The strobe of it hurt Nate’s head. The windows outside had gone almost black through auto tint. He’d jumped them right next to the Absalom star.
Right next to was an exaggeration; they were parked about thirty million kilometers from the star itself. What they were right next to was Absalom’s first planet. A barren, smoldering cinder, bathed in constant radiation. It was a death zone. Walking outside down there would turn you to a pillar of ash. The Tyche was capable of withstanding the temperature here fine, thanks, as it was much less than the heat of re-entry, but the Absalom star was still a raging ball of fire at this distance.