Defying Gravity Page 2

  “Alezandros, are you paying attention?” The commander slammed his palms upon the table, and Alezandros jumped.

  “Of course, sir.” Not one bit.

  “With your flying skills, you’ll lead the way when we confront this Persean ship.” The commander leaned toward him. His blackened hair swirled around his head, nearly attacking Alezandros’s face. The commander’s green eyes penetrated his, and he hoped there wouldn’t be a Medusan staring contest.

  “Yes, sir.” He scooted his chair back a little. Breathing room was nice.

  “Good.” He grinned; sharply pointed teeth peered out from behind his lips. “I knew we could count on you.”

  Count on him? He hoped so. Then, why did he have this sneaking suspicion he was in over his head?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Would the boredom kill her before the homesickness?

  Everyone on board had their duties to keep them as busy as drones, except for her. She would be needed once they met other life forms, but in the emptiness of space, it couldn’t arrive soon enough.

  If she didn’t have her Litras, she would’ve gone insane. Since Griffon’s warning, she remained in her area and read on the device in several languages, but there was only so much reading one could do.

  She propped her foot against the wall and allowed the other one to dangle while she read about the Medusan and Persean Wars. They neared the Medusan territory, and she wanted to brush up on their history before they made contact.

  Fifty years ago, a nanosecond in time, the dying planet Medusa and its strange, reptilian people sought a new home. They went to their nearest neighbor, fair Persea, but instead of asking them for assistance, the Medusans had war in their cold-blooded hearts. In waves, they infiltrated the lush lands, killing all Perseans in their path.

  “What are you reading?” A voice broke through her reading-induced fog.

  She blinked and looked up. Griffon stood behind her, and with a thud, her feet hit the floor. “Nothing much, just checking some history.”

  He peered over her shoulder. He was so close his hair tickled her cheek. “The Perseans and the Medusans. Don’t you already know the stories?”

  She breathed in his scent of cologne and sweat. He smelled like a perfumed pet fluffter, and her nose wrinkled. “Of course, I know them. We’re entering the Medusan air space, and I need to be prepared on how to deal with the Medusans. I want to make certain they know we’re just passing through.”

  “Linguist Linia, you are needed on deck.” An electronic voice permeated the craft.

  She stood so quickly her chair bumped against him. Relief flowed through her, and she was glad not to be quite so close.

  Were they at Medusa now? Was it finally her moment to shine? A burst of excitement raced through her.

  “Gotta go. Duty calls,” she said, tossing the words behind her as she left.

  She didn’t see anyone as she marched to the front of the ship. The sterilized corridors had become second nature after her time spent aboard the SS Perseid. Captain Bous, Lieutenant Mixi, and Corporal Kavin stood at the bridge when she entered the control center. She clicked her heels as she’d seen Mixi do. “You called for me, Captain?”

  “Yes, Linia.” Captain Bous pointed at the large window in front of them. “We’re crossing into Medusan air space. You’ll need to speak with them and let them know we are peaceful.”

  “Of course, sir.” She walked over to the sonic voice amplifier. She held the small instrument in her hand and stared into measureless space. A dark, reddish-brown planet appeared in the distance: Medusa. Upon seeing it, she realized why they would covet Persea. The two planets were the difference between life and death for their peoples. She couldn’t imagine living in such a place.

  A deep, slow breath calmed her jumbled jitters. The Medusian dialect contained many hisses and guttural growls. She had to be perfect, or they would attack. “We’re the SS Perseid. We’re a peaceful spaceship passing through your territory. We’ll soon exit. We mean no harm.”

  She paused and repeated her message. On the third round, three small spaceships left in dirty white clouds from Medusa. She stumbled over her words.

  What was going on?

  “Turn around or we’ll attack. Your mission is not about peace.” A voice hissed its words, and a shiver raced up her spine.

  “Watch out for those Medusans.” Her dad had warned before take-off, as if he’d told her not to let the pegasiflies bite as he did when she was a child. Would this Medusan bite? She could do this, though. Her shoulders straightened, causing her spine to pop.

  “You are mistaken, Medusan. We don’t mean any harm. We’re passing through and will leave your air space. We’re peaceful people.” She spoke her words in a slow, deliberate voice. It was her first time actually speaking their language to a real Medusan, so she hoped he understood her.

  A sputtering sound like an engine dying filled her ears, and it took her a few seconds to realize it was laughter. “You are mistaken, Persean. Are you lying or just ignorant?”

  She translated the words, and anger flushed her antennae purple. “I’m not lying.”

  “Then you are a fool. Your ship has weapons to destroy us. Turn back or we’ll obliterate you.” His voice sounded like a curse to her, and she shuddered at what they would do to them.

  She turned toward the captain, lieutenant, and corporal. Why did she have to be the bearer of bad news? Her spit stuck in her throat, and she coughed to clear it. “The Medusans say our mission isn’t peaceful. If we don’t turn back, they’ll fire.”

  Their eyes widened in equal shares of surprise mixed with horror.

  “How did they know?” Captain Bous demanded.

  “I don’t know.” Lieutenant Mixi’s voice jumped an octave, and Linia’s heart rate increased. If the cold Mixi was afraid, it was bad news. “There’s no way they could’ve known unless there are spies.”

  “We must call Griffon,” Corporal Kavin said, running his hand over his dark blue, shaved head.

  “Wait!” Linia stared at them in disbelief. Griffon and Mixi’s conversation smacked into her, as if it slapped her across the face. Her hand fluttered to her lips when she made the complete connection. “The Medusans are right.”

  No, please be wrong, please.

  “They’re preparing for another war. We did what we had to do.” Captain Bous picked up an amplifier and ordered, “All hands on deck. Prepare to fire.”

  “Please, stop,” she whispered in Medusian. Horror pressed over her. The Medusan battle cruisers flew toward them. A terrible, bright red beam of death sliced through the air in front of the Perseid and struck the closest cruiser. Dark gray smoke billowed from its nose like an angry draken. The ship careened off while another spacecraft fired an icy blue beam toward their ship.

  She twisted her upper body away from the window and closed her eyes when the beam hit the ship’s weak force field. The small blast knocked her off her feet, but she didn’t fall. When she opened her eyes, Griffon’s strong arms wrapped around her.

  “You can’t be here.” He grabbed her hand as another blue beam crashed against the shield.

  “I have to stop this.” She didn’t come here for war.

  “Griffon, get her out of here,” the captain commanded.

  A soft explosion made her ears pop. Her antennae drooped and quivered in terror. Griffon half-dragged, half-carried her down the pristine white corridors.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You shouldn’t have been here. They didn’t need to involve you in this war.”

  Metal scraped against metal and knocked them sideways. Her wide eyes met his pale honey ones when they pressed together. She clung to his shoulders and dug her nails into his flesh. “What are we going to do?”

  “Listen to me. You’re going into your room. I want you to stay there until all is quiet or I come get you.” His fingertips lingered upon her cheek before he picked her up like a toddler. Her legs wrapped around his waist
, and he jogged down the hall.

  When they stopped at her room, he opened the door. “You have to stay here. Understood?”

  “I understand,” she said, sliding to her feet.

  He looked at her for a moment. His lips moved closer to her, and then he shoved her. “I’m sorry, Linia. Stay here.”

  “Griffon.” She stumbled backward and fell upon the floor.

  He pressed his palm to the panel, and the door slid shut, blocking her from him.

  An explosion rocked the spacecraft. The lights blinked out and came back on in a blaring red. With one hand on the bed and the other against the wall, she moved toward the door.

  Boom!

  Another blast crashed against the ship. It threw her backward, her head knocking against the wall. Bright stars danced before her eyes before the SS Perseid shifted as if bumped from above. She tumbled and fell into the infinite darkness of unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Alezandros caught a glimpse of the Persean he spoke with. Her blond hair, almost golden behind the window, flew as she turned toward her companions. He believed in her naivety, her innocence. How could her own people lie to her? Of course, it did him no good. Seconds later, a flash of red struck his space cruiser.

  The ship’s nose crumpled, and the ship spun around. The instrument panel flashed in warning. He was losing control over the craft, and he yanked the shaft up. Another blast narrowly missed him again as he zoomed upward.

  Smoke, curling in front of the window, obscured his view. His teeth clenched together, causing his jaw to ache, as he struggled with the cruiser. Silver flashed before his eyes. Merdre! He pulled up again, but it was too late. The ship smacked against the SS Perseid and bounced off it like a pebble hitting a boulder.

  Bile rose in his throat. When the smoke cleared, darkness swirled around him, sprinkled with distant starlight. He no longer saw Medusa or his fellow soldiers, but beams of red and blue intermingled around him.

  They were still close, and relief coursed through his veins. If he could turn the ship around, then he could get back home. Kaire and his nephews didn’t even know he was miles above the planet. She’d kill him when he returned.

  The craft slowed, and the warnings stopped. Then, the panel went dark, as if he’d turned it off.

  Fear ensnared his heart. He pressed buttons, but the engine didn’t start. Merdre! He’d have to go to the engine room. He turned to leave when more red beams struck him. The craft shot forward through space, and he stumbled against the chair. Pain sliced into his chest from the impact. His breath wheezed as he fumbled for the communication device.

  “Help, I need help.” He waited for some instructions as he sank into the chair.

  A static hiss was his only response.

  “Please, come in.” He coughed and winced at the pain. Perhaps he’d broken a rib.

  Nothing.

  His eyes closed, and he tried to control his erratic breathing. He would pass out, if he continued to hyperventilate. Think of Karros, Madden, and Kaire. Their faces floated in his mind. He would return to them.

  Another face popped into his memory: the Persean who’d spoken to him. Those wide golden eyes had pierced his heart. She’d told him to stop. Was she warning him? Or protecting her own people?

  When his eyes opened, he gasped.

  Purple and pink swirled nearby, and a beaming blue light sliced through the cloud cluster. He was heading toward it. From his studies with the Medusan Army, he knew what it meant. If he couldn’t stop his forward progress, he’d enter that wormhole.

  He had to stop this ship.

  When he leapt from his seat, the room spun around and darkness encroached upon his vision. Another breath or two cleared his sight as he staggered down the colorful corridors.

  A dim light illuminated the engine room. Within the center, the energy sphere was black and rested below the metal spokes. If he couldn’t get it started, then the ship wouldn’t run.

  He knelt beside the column below the sphere. His eyes squeezed shut as sharp pain raced along his right side. Yeah, something seemed broken. Medusans were quick healers, but he’d need time to rest, to mend broken bones. Time was not on his side.

  He popped the panel and peered into the mass of wires. Nothing seemed out of place, but he wasn’t an engineer. It seemed as if the sphere had been drained of power. Was that even possible?

  A bead of sweat, or was it a tear, trickled down his cheek. His chest burned, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Each second drew him closer to the wormhole, its gravity. He rested his head against the column. It felt cool despite the heat radiating through his body. The ship needed a jump start or something, but he had no way to get it.

  He struggled to his feet. The room swirled around once in his vision. He swayed back and forth as he went toward the too bright cockpit.

  Light filled every inch. He could barely distinguish the control panel as everything blurred to brilliant whiteness. The wormhole sucked his small space cruiser within its hungry mouth. Where he would land, he didn’t know.

  “I’m sorry, Kaire,” he whispered. His sister was right as always, but she wouldn’t be able to gloat. Instead, she’d be told that he was lost forever, dead.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Her blue electricity pulsed in rhythm to her heartbeat and brushed against the invading red emergency lights. Her fingers fluttered against her collar. The sapphire was turned sideways.

  How odd.

  When she sat up, a wave of nausea passed over her, and she breathed deeply to quell her stomach. She examined the stone in her necklace and shifted it back in place. The blue light vanished, leaving only the red.

  Shivering, she inspected herself. Nothing was broken. Her head had a couple lumps, but she’d survived the worse of the attack. An unsettling quiet descended upon the SS Perseid. She froze in her position and listened. Cooling metal softly ticked. Some machine beeped in the distance.

  There was nothing else.

  Linia remembered Griffon’s words. She’d rather be eaten by a draken than “stay here,” though. With care, she stood. The pounding in her head increased, and her palms pressed against her temples, her pulse thumping against them like a deranged rabbix. When the pain decreased, she placed her hand against the metallic wall. The door vanished, and she stepped into the corridor.

  Bloody red light bathed the walls. Dark shadows stretched toward her where the emergency lights didn’t shine. Terror increased her heart rate and quickened her breathing, but she took one step forward and then another.

  “Hello?” Her voice echoed down the hall. Peeking into rooms, she found none of her crew as she continued toward the front of the ship.

  “Hello?”

  No one replied.

  She crept along the corridor while nearing the ship’s command center. What had happened? Where was everyone? Each step took her closer to these answers, but she didn’t want to know. She had to continue. The rapid beating in her heart echoed in her head. Her mouth went dry as she placed her palm upon the wall. The door slid open, and she stepped inside.

  Thick, acrid smoke stung her eyes and made her cough. The wispy plumes danced into the hallway. Outside the window, unfamiliar stars and two rounded, rocklike planets grew in form. One was gray and dead; the other was rust-brown, much like Medusa. Rivulets of blue and white dotted the latter planet.

  When the last of the smoke had cleared, she turned away from the window.

  Her scream was sharp and piercing. It bounced along the walls long after she had stopped. She stumbled backward into the window. For a second, her heart and breathing ceased as her mind processed the horror before her.

  The SS Perseid’s crew reclined in awkward angles. The typically blue gemstones of their collars had collapsed into deathly black. She counted the bodies. Nine. The entire crew lay dead, except for herself.

  She weaved through the carnage until she found Griffon. Her foot caught upon Corporal Kavin’s arm, and she tumbled forw
ard, falling to her knees in front of the engineer.

  “Oh, Griffon,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek.

  Her hand hovered above his face. Could she save them? With a flick of her stone, her body glowed with pulsing energy. One touch and she could bring all nine Perseans back, but did she dare?

  Her revived compatriots would be no more than drones, zombies, slaves. They would breathe and move. They could eat and speak, but they would be simple-minded, mere shadows of their former selves. She would have to take care of them, or they’d die again.

  She stared at their broken bodies, from Griffon to Mixi to the captain. It was too late for them all. She couldn’t bring them back, even though she longed to. With the gemstone back in place, the light within her died. She rested her clasped hands in her lap. Thick, salty tears dripped down her cheeks and splattered upon the floor.

  She was alone.

  A loud, whining sound, like a baby’s keening, rose around her. The red lights blinked from red to white to red again like a demented, electric slithering.

  “Ten minutes to impact.” An electronic voice droned. “Ten minutes to impact.”

  Linia clamped her hands over her ears and stumbled to her feet. Outside the window, the planet filled her entire vision. Its gravitational pull had latched upon the SS Perseid.

  They were going to crash!

  “What can I do?”

  “Nine minutes to impact,” the voice answered.

  “Sterk!” Fear exploded in her body and raced up her limbs. She sprinted toward the captain’s chair.

  Captain Bous’s head was cocked at an unnatural angle. Besides this abnormality, he could’ve been sleeping. She ignored him when she touched the control panel. The screen lit up for a moment before turning black.