Chapter 9

NINE

" Y ou don't have to do this."

Felix snorted, which was always a bad idea on a shuttle. The cabin was pressurized, but artificial atmosphere and gravity in tight spaces always messed with his equilibrium. He leaned closer to Zed. "Read my lips. I. Am. Already. Here."

"You're not supposed to make sound if you want me to read your lips."

"And people think I'm the ass."

One corner of Zed's mouth lifted. Looked like he fought the smile, but Felix caught the flicker and counted it as a badge of success.

"Listen. I'll admit this seems crazy, even for me, but when you look at it rationally, I'm the best qualified to go with you. I…" Just like that, Felix's glibness faded, leaving a hollow in the middle of his gut. Recognizing the precursor to fear—or worse, rage—he swallowed and ticked off a few numbers in his head. Exhaling, he started again. "As you said yourself, I've got up-close and personal experience with the stin. I know how they think and how they move. If I perceive any threat to you or the resonance in this meeting, I'll make it known. And until we figure out what the fuck the Church is plotting, I am not leaving your side."

Even to throw up, or stick his head out of an airlock, or curl into a shaking ball for a while, combating his nightmares in full light. Zed needed him. Today. On point, in control. This was his job, not just as Zed's lover or partner, but as a member of his crew.

Felix squared his shoulders. "In that first meeting aboard the Jitendra , you said you had a team. Use it."

"The stin won't like it. I'm supposed to be alone."

"If Harrar is there, they'll love having me aboard. They'll object, but only so it doesn't look like they're going to enjoy fucking with me."

"Flick—"

Felix silenced him with a quick kiss, and though the contact between their lips was brief, his skin tingled. Fear, desire…more fear. He and Zed hadn't really talked yet, thanks to a number of things. The stin made a fine scapegoat, though.

"We are on approach to the Gorekka . Docking in ninety seconds," the shuttle pilot reported.

Felix grabbed Zed's hand. "Should we hold hands as we step through the 'lock?"

Grinning, Zed tugged his hand loose. "And you think I'm the ass."

The interior of the stin vessel picked at the lid of every tightly closed box of shit in Felix's head. There weren't enough numbers in any goddamned countdown to keep him calm. The smell hit him first, stirring his gut and an unhealthy portion of unpleasant memories. It was like wet leaf mold mixed with something sharp and bitter. Then, as his foot rose a little higher than necessary for a simple step, Felix remembered the stin preferred less gravity. About 0.8 human standard.

The corridor outside the airlock had a segmented appearance, like the inside of a large intestine. Rounded hatches were tucked into concave depressions along the wall, each door sealed. Every surface—floor and bulkheads—shone beneath green running lights, and the dimensions were stin, dwarfing even a man of Zed's stature. As did the two stin waiting to greet them, Ambassador Ryrrk and Harrar. They'd apparently dispensed with Ryrrk's second guard. He'd probably insulted someone over breakfast and had his head ripped off.

"Zzander Anatoliussss." Ryrrk offered a clipped nod before turning to regard Felix. "Thiss one is not expected."

"He is my aide. He will not be contributing to the meeting."

Bodyguard sounded better than aide , but Felix understood why Zed had chosen the less antagonistic title.

Harrar leaned out of Ryrrk's shadow. "He isss not a gift, Emissary?"

Zed started forward and Ryrrk hissed and rumbled at her compatriot. Felix grabbed Zed's sleeve, yanked it until he had his attention and shook his head. Then, deliberately, Felix looked down at the floor, rounded his shoulders and assumed the meekest posture he could. It killed him a little to do it, to show himself as so completely passive. The core of rage within him flared brightly, threatening to burn him up from the inside out. But what he'd told Zed proved true: now that the initial shock of encountering the stin again had worn off, he knew how to interact with them. How to deflect their attention, defuse their passion. He had to become nothing—unworthy, unchallenging.

Feeling Harrar's instant disinterest, his pulse settled. He could do this. He might need a sedative tonight, but he could do this.

A series of glottal grumbles filled the stinky air, and lights blinked farther down, splashing the corridor in another shade of sickly green.

"The ressonancce shuttle approaches and will be docking in…"

Felix didn't understand the last two words. He assumed they were a stin reference for time. Zed, however, nodded and replied in Stin. Hearing him hiss and growl sent a shiver down Felix's spine. But whatever Zed said appeared to please—or simply appease—the ambassador. Zed gestured toward the flashing lights and they proceeded down the corridor.

Felix hadn't spent enough time with the resonance to tell one from the other, but he recognized the smaller one, and the manner in which they greeted Zed—a forward surge and quiver of spiked appendages—made him smile. They really were like puppies. Huge, scary-ass, spiky, crystal puppies. With telepathy.

Who would they meet next? Fish-monkeys who sang through their asses?

Aware he'd garnered attention—even though he stood as still and small as possible, Felix glanced up to meet the gaze of the smallest resonance. Gleams, according to Zed. The alien…sparkled at him. Zed turned and smiled. "Gleams says hello." His grin broadened. "The exact translation is ‘Hello, nice to meet you, fluffy-yellow-partner-unit, joy joy joy."

Felix nearly laughed. "Fluffy-yellow? You're making that up."

"Maybe. But the joy part is all Gleams."

For a moment, Felix forgot his fear and simply allowed himself to be caught up in what he'd become a part of. This was—shit, he was taking part in a moment his sorry children could be proud of. If he ever had children.

He probably shouldn't have children.

Showing Gleams a smile, he dipped his chin in a respectful nod and resumed being nothing.

Zed barked and hissed in Stin, and the meeting moved down the ribbed corridor to a conference room.

Once inside, Felix stood by the door, his back pressed into a dip in the wide corrugations. Zed and the ambassadors stood in a ring around a horizontal holoscreen that looked like a circular table without legs. Now and again, someone would point toward the holo and stir up a few pixels.

To anyone who did not know the stin, their posturing and hissing might seem antagonistic—and it was, to a degree. They communicated, even with each other, by baiting and switching. But though Felix understood nothing but the subtext—the round of formal greeting, the small talk, the actual talk—he could tell the stin were on their best behavior. They were trying to be diplomatic. It was an odd thing to witness.

For their part, the resonance showed absolutely no reaction to the undercurrent of aggression in the chamber. When the stin grumbled, they rocked back, disturbed by the vibration, but Zed quickly soothed both sides. Felix thought Ryrrk even apologized for the mistake.

That was weird too.

When the wall behind him rumbled, Felix paid no attention. He was used to the low-level hum of a ship. Then the wall kicked outward, knocking him to his knees. His ears popped and the floor tilted, indicating either the inertial dampeners had gone off-line or…

His ears had popped. Shit.

Alarms shrieked, their sound not unlike human klaxons. The glottal hiss of stin speech rose above it. Gone were the moderated tones of the meeting. The stin were yelling, their harsh and sibilant voices reminding Felix of his capture. He'd never have considered death lucky, but the men and women who died as the McCandless broke in half, spilling atmosphere and bodies into space, had been the fortunate ones. He, alone in the malfunctioning escape pod he'd been fixing, had been the unlucky one.

Zed crouched next to him.

"What's happening?" Felix asked, waving at the screeching stin.

"The ship's under attack."

"What? How is that possible? They'd have detected any approach, any targeting mechanism."

"Don't have time to debate it now. We need to get the resonance to their shuttle."

With a shuddering groan, the ship rolled sideways. Resonance, stin and human fell toward the new floor, the segmented wall. Zed slammed into him, crushing the air from his lungs. Felix felt a familiar pop in his side. There went a rib, maybe two. The pain struck a second later. Harrar rolled into them next, hissing and spitting, further jostling Felix. The blare of another alarm smothered his yell.

Strong vibrations punched through his chest from two directions: the wall and the stin. The shudder of the ship scared him as much as the deep grumble emanating from the throats of the bug-like aliens. His composure shredded, Felix fought a battle on two fronts—past and present. He knew which was the most important, but fighting the thick tide of memory proved as difficult as pushing away from the wall…and he wasn't the only one affected. All four resonance bucked, obviously reacting to several discordant frequencies. Two of them suddenly stilled. Felix hoped they weren't dead.

"Are they okay?" he yelled at Zed.

A frown of concentration marred Zed's brow as he checked in with the resonance. "Incapacitated," he said. "Unconscious, but alive."

Felix's bracelet screeched, the general channel lighting up and throwing a small display into the confusion. Theo's face wavered. "What happened?…going on?"

Felix sucked in a painful breath. "Are we under attack?"

"No…vessel!…explosion! Starboard."

The side they'd docked and left their shuttles. Shit.

"What's he saying?" Zed yelled into his ear.

The vessel continued to list alarmingly, and then the gravity failed. In one sense, it was a relief. The weight of Zed and Harrar had nearly broken more than a couple of ribs. Harrar rolled off him and Zed floated free. Felix fell away from the wall and bumped into one of the resonance. A spiny appendage locked around his arm. Then the alien listed sideways, apparently defeated by the vibrations. Was it unconscious too?

"I think there was an explosion on the starboard side!" Felix yelled over the cacophony of alarms, the deep thrum of the distressed stin, and the constant screech and impact of the last conscious resonance bucking and flailing against one of the walls.

Zed roared into the concert of confusion, using the stin language. Ryrrk snapped to attention only to glower at Zed, but the break in distressed thrumming had an immediate effect on the single conscious resonance. It stopped jerking and grabbed a hold of another of the unit. Felix thought it might be Gleams.

In Standard, Zed continued, "We received a report of an explosion on the starboard side of your vessel. Are the shuttles destroyed? If so, are we safe here, or can you lead us to another mode of transport?"

"Where did you get your information? Thiss isss human treachery!"

"Can we save the finger-pointing for later?"

Harrar had something like a wallet in his claws. "The human sshuttle isss intact. The resonance sshuttle has detached." He looked up. "We sshould not attempt to reach either. Ssafesst to sstay here."

A sense of unreality chilled Felix. Here they were, free-floating in a stin conference room, being told this was the safest place to be. "I don't want to stay here, Zed." He flailed upward and jerked to a halt as the weight of the resonance attached to his arm prevented a chaotic tumble. "We need to get off this ship."

I don't want to die here with the creature that broke me.

For a minute, Zed looked torn. Then the soldier kicked in. "My first priority has to be making sure the resonance are safe."

The lack of gravity cushioned the impact of the next explosion, but shock waves rolled through the atmosphere nonetheless, driving air from lungs and nudging everyone in a single, unified direction: the ceiling.

"Find something to grab on to and hold fast!" Zed yelled.

By the time they got there, it was the new floor. Felix scrabbled for a handhold, hooking his arm through a low-g safety rail just as the sound every man in space feared hissed through the compartment. A low whine rising in pitch until a shrill whistle poked at his eardrums. The hull had been breached, and containment had yet to close the hole—or couldn't. On a human ship, life support would shut down in an effort to seal every room. They'd be trapped with whatever air remained until rescue.

The stin vessel followed a similar protocol. Felix's ears popped again as hidden vents in the conference room closed, sealing them in. The ship continued to rock and roll. Then the opposite wall rippled, buckled and blew out, one of the concave depressions disappearing into a dark maw of confusion. A strong current reached into the room and began sucking out anything not welded down.

The resonance next to Felix rolled over him—spikes digging into Felix's abdomen, hard planes grinding against his ribs. His raw scream of pain was sucked away by the venting atmosphere, droplets of blood following in a vicious streak. As the resonance pulled free, the spikes around Felix's wrist loosened enough for his hand to slide through. Felix grabbed at the alien, arresting its tumble toward the unknown. There might be a corridor through that hole, but space lay somewhere beyond that, and the breach would continue to widen until no air remained in the chamber.

He closed his left hand around a spine and activated the fingers of his glove, working his thumb until the slender appendages curled and locked, holding the resonance tight. The tug against his other arm, still hooked around the rail, became almost unbearable. Just as it seemed as if his arm would pull from his shoulder socket, the awful wail dropped to a whistle. Ryrrk was wedged in the hole, her massive body forming enough of a plug to slow the leak.

A commotion on the other side of the room drew Felix's attention. The last conscious resonance lifted its arm appendage and drove a spike into the sealed door. The spike blurred, then the cantilevered plates shattered outward. The large alien pushed through immediately. Gleams hung from the spikes on its back, still unconscious. Felix looked for the fourth resonance and saw it near Zed, hanging unconscious from the wall with a set of spikes that had sprouted from an arm appendage.

"We need to get to the shuttle," Zed said, pushing off the wall to swim toward the fourth resonance.

Felix struggled with the breath to reply before abandoning thought for action. He could feel the press of wet fabric to his stomach, meaning he'd bled past the smart fiber's ability to cope. If he didn't act now, he'd soon be unable to help himself, let alone the resonance dangling from his glove. He pulled his arm from the handle, grasped it and launched himself toward the next one. The bulky resonance attached to his left hand skewed his trajectory. Felix caught a different handle and continued toward the hatch with smaller steps. Rousing, his alien partner began to help, digging spikes into the segments of the wall and pushing them forward. Felix thought he heard Theo's voice, and others, but didn't dare take the time to check his bracelet. His foremost thought now was escape.

The whistle of venting air had steadily increased in volume as Ryrrk struggled to roll away from the breach. She got sucked through instead. Zed reached through the broken door and grabbed Felix's arm, hauling him and his resonance through and into more chaos. The corridor appeared intact, but the bodies and debris clustered at one end indicated it had been breached and might only be temporarily blocked.

The segmented nature of the corridor helped them inch along its length. Every breath was agony. Felix ignored the fact he'd lost nearly all feeling below his waist. Similarly, he willed the black spots at the edge of his vision to retreat. The lead resonance punched through another sealed bulkhead and they were outside the airlocks. Only one door had lights indicating a vessel locked on to the other side: the human one. Felix's tired brain entertained several possibilities ranging from treachery of the highest order to the fickle nature of that bitch called Fate.

Zed communed with the conscious resonance for half a second before nodding. "They want a ride," he said.

"Will they fit?" The AEF shuttle was small.

"We'll make sure they do."

Felix felt so broken by this point they could probably just fold him in half and tuck him into a cargo pod.

"Up and at 'em, soldier." Zed's low growl had just the right combination of command and encouragement.

By some miracle the door to the airlock irised open on command. With the dock firm, the 'lock didn't need to cycle, so Zed was able to open the shuttle door and start directing their passengers inside. Meanwhile, the wind picked up. Whatever blocked the corridor breach wouldn't hold for much longer. Felix took a second to lament the fact the resonance had punched through the door that might have given them more time. But, if not for that, they might all be still clustered on the other side swearing in a mishmash of languages.

The resonance attached to his glove went next. Assigning himself the position of rearguard, Felix unlocked the fingers of his glove and let it pass. The alien let go, but only long enough to hook Felix's right hand in between two crossed spikes and tug him toward the shuttle entrance. Exhausted, Felix let himself be pulled along. His arms burned from the exercise of hauling himself and his resonance from handhold to handhold. He could smell the blood soaking his clothing, and the right side of his torso felt as if it had a hull breach all its own. His legs dangled from his hips like licorice straps.

He was halfway inside the shuttle when Harrar reached around the open airlock door. The stin grabbed for him and Felix recoiled. Harrar's claws skittered down his left arm and caught on his glove.

"Felicccccce Ingessson."

A tiny part of Felix's brain understood the stin probably only wanted help escaping a rapidly capsizing vessel, but the greater part panicked. Harrar had taken too much pleasure in breaking him. The majority of the scars across Felix's chest and back were from the claws currently hooked into his glove. If not for the poison, he might not have been marked at all, so delicately had Harrar scored his flesh, as if seeking to part every layer of his epidermis individually. Of course, it hurt more that way, and his trips on stin venom hadn't exactly taken him away from the pain.

The roar of venting air amplified, and the pull against his arm increased. Felix could feel the wind plucking at his skin and hair. Even his shirt, heavy with blood, fluttered and flapped. Caught between two aliens, one in the shuttle and one hooked into his glove, Felix was stretched across the airlock, arms extended. The floor and walls shuddered and the shuttle moorings creaked and groaned. Shaking his left arm in an attempt to dislodge the scrambling Harrar, Felix yelled over his shoulder. "Tell the resonance to let go of me. I need to unhook Harrar's claws!"

Zed moved halfway out of the hatch, faltering as he felt the pull of an atmosphere venting into space. He grabbed for a handhold and reached out, his fingers falling well short of Felix's arm, let alone his glove. "We'll have to haul him in," he shouted.

"You want to bring him along?"

"He's just trying to save himself." Zed, ever the hero.

The pull against his right arm increased as the resonance began hauling them both inside the shuttle. The edge of the hatchway scraped over Felix's back and caught in the groove of his spine. He felt as if he were being drawn and quartered. Old-style.

Harrar jerked and scrabbled, his other hand finding purchase inside the 'lock. His claws pulled free of Felix's glove, but only long enough to catch his arm higher up, piercing flesh to the bone. A scream tore at Felix's throat. The claws raked down his upper arm, turning his skin and musculature to ribbons before catching on his elbow joint. The rush and whine of air increased in strength, turning Harrar into a flag, tethered by Felix's arm. Despite the terrible pain, Felix was grateful the resonance hadn't let go…until he felt his elbow start to give.

"Feliccce!" Harrar hissed.

Over the combined roar of agony and impending death, Felix could hear Zed screaming. He had no more breath to scream for himself. The resonance pulled again, and Felix's left elbow dislocated with a sickening pop. Beneath the nausea, a new terror gripped him. He was going to lose his arm if Harrar didn't let go.

Suddenly, the pressure from both sides fell away. Felix sagged, head spinning, stomach roiling. The airlock hatch had irised closed, trapping Harrar. If not for his carapace, the stin would have been cut in half. He almost was. Thick green fluid oozed from the seal. The resonance let him go and Felix scrambled against free fall, trying to gain his feet. Agony wreathed his elbow and shot down his arm in furious spikes. His left hand had stopped reporting for duty. Harrar huffed quietly, obviously in pain.

"Let go of my arm." Felix couldn't be sure if he'd said the words out loud. He was vaguely aware of Zed pushing back into the airlock.

"Miiine," Harrar rasped.

Memories crashed into his head, pushing aside his natural will to survive. A whimper took up residence in his throat. Zed appeared next to him and looked down at his shredded arm, jaw tightening as he assessed the situation.

"I can't feel it anymore," Felix mumbled. He could feel something, though: the cool burn of stin poison. The spread ignited every flayed nerve ending along his arm, bringing it back to fiery life.

"We need to get the door open again," Zed said, obviously realizing that would be easier than extricating Harrar's claws from the mess of flesh and bone that had been Felix's arm.

"Don't try it. There's no atmosphere on the other side. We'd all be ducked…ducked…" His tongue tangled and tripped as the poison licked up the sides of his face.

Another alarm pierced the thin atmosphere, and the entire airlock shuddered.

"Wha—" Felix's vision shattered, showing him six Zeds. "Poison," he hissed, sounding like his enemy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Zed's curses continued to echo and bounce, filling Felix's head. Or was he imagining the sound? "Docking clamps are tearing loose. We need to go now!"

Felix hoped he was imagining that part.

Zed was pulling at his arm now. Keening and grunting. Harrar was no longer moving, and his claws were locked. Not even Zed's superior strength could break the hold. What little atmosphere remained in the airlock began to fizzle and whistle, sounding like music. Except it was too shrill.

"Goddamn it!" Zed was still trying to unhook Harrar's claws, with no success.

A heavy breath of silence brushed his ears as Felix understood what had to happen. This was his end. But in that quiet and suspended moment, it was okay. He was so goddamned tired.

"Go," he said.

"No!" Zed yelled, grabbing ahold of his shoulder.

Pain shunted through Felix's arm, threatening to short-circuit his resolve. He plucked at Zed's fingers. "You have t'let me go."

"Never."

"Let go."

"Not. Leaving. You."

Another shudder and an ominous groan of metal, louder than the shriek of oxygen.

"You gotta go." Felix quaked and retched. "Go, Zed. I can't get free."

How had he ever thought he might get free?

"Felix…"

The poison seeped into his head and began unpacking his boxes of stored terror. Watching the McCandless break apart, jettisoning gas and debris, much of it human. His capture and torture. They'd thought he was important—he had been alone in an escape pod, after all. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He'd been nothing but a mechanical engineer, special only in that he was the guy they sent to do the tricky repair jobs, like a pod that kept reporting itself launched.

His incarceration. Mining rocks, breaking rocks, being broken. Over and over again. Harrar's special attention.

I don't want to die here.

His escape in a container of ore. Endless darkness and the fear his stolen rebreather would quit before he was found.

Harrar's voice, caressing his name with nasty intent.

I don't want to die here with the creature that broke me.

Shakily, Felix used the door frame to pull himself back toward the shuttle, then halfway inside, his ruined left arm braced across the door seal. His useless, broken left arm. The part of him that carried the bulk of his nightmares, focusing and relaying them into every day of his life.

The only way to save himself was to let it go. Cut it free.

"Close the hatch," he said.

Zed paled. "What? No, your arm?—"

Felix put every last effort into making himself clear. "Stop thinking, Zed. It's the only way I'll be free." Get free, be free. "Close the goddamned hatch."