Noneof this is good.
“And we don’t have any way of moving closer to them on our own, right? Or away?” I ask, just to be sure. We’re a station, not a ship—by definition, we are astoppingplace.
“Not unless we send Heath out in one of our firebirds.”
I bite my lip. It isn’t the worst idea, and actually, I’m surprised I haven’t thought of it before. Maybe Heath could get a call through from one of the crafts instead—maybethoselines won’t be blocked. For that matter, maybe our regular channels would work. Hope blossoms inside me as I make fast work of our message system, tapping and dragging Vonn’s handle from the private inbox over to the main one. I put in the call, and it’s working, it’s really working—
“Hello?” I say breathlessly as the call connects. “Hello, this is Acting Commander Lindley Hamilton speaking?”
“IT IS WITH REGRET THAT I MUST INFORM YOU,” the recorded voice says, speaking right over me. “YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GRANTED ACCESS TO THIS LINE—”
I jam my finger into the screen, end the call. “No, no,no.”
“She’s the worst,” Zesi mutters. “The absolute worst.”
“Could Heath call from one of the birds?” I ask. “Would that get through, you think?”
“At this point, I think about the only thing that would get through to them is if Heath flew all the way out and raised a white flag.”
I’m quiet, weighing pros and cons. It’s a total risk—I mean, what if they fire an array of shots at him before he has the chance to prove his approach is a peaceful one? Vonn is the type to assume the worst, obviously. What if they hit him—what if—
“You’re not actually considering that terrible idea, are you?” Zesi asks, straightening.
Heath could die. But... he could also succeed.
If nothing else, he could try to make contact using one of the birds’ communication systems down on the hangar deck—he might not have to fly anywhere at all. The only potential drawback is that it’d leave Haven and Natalin to fend for themselves with everyone down in the safe room. Haven’s constantly offering to step in, insisting she can help me handle things. Maybe it’s time I let her.
“Lindley?”
“Look, it isn’t theworstof ideas—I’m all ears if you have a better one.” I cross my arms, challenge him with my eyes.
A brief blip sounds from the radar, and Zesi mutters a curse.
“What?” The blurred world snaps clearly back into focus, and I’m at his side in less than two seconds.
There’s movement on the grid. Six tiny white specks break off from the larger white dot at the edge of the sphere: Vonn’s ship. They move toward us in synchrony.
“How... how long do we have?” The words taste like dying stars.
Zesi’s deep brown eyes meet mine, dark with steely resolve. “Long enough for Heath to have a chance at holding them off, if you get him in the birdnow.” He glances at the grid, his mouth a grim line. “Maybe less.”
There’s no time forwhat now, no time forwhat if.
“See you on the other side of this,” I say, already halfway out the door. “Do your best here, and I’ll do mine.”
I only hope our best is enough.
62
MADE OF SPLINTERS
MY STEPS ARE full of fire, my heart is full of ash.
I fly from Control and buzz Heath on the way.
“Linds?” he says, not two seconds after I initiate the call. I hear the din of chaos in the background, everyone crammed into the safe room. “What’s happened?”
“No deaths, nothing like that,” I say, even as the wordyetsprouts up in my head. I fill him in quickly on Vonn, on the firebirds. On the rickety splinters I’m calling Our Plan. “Meet me on the hangar deck as soon as you can, okay?” I’m so fast and focused I nearly bump into Leo as I turn the corner, clearly on his way up to Control.Change of plans, I mouth at him, and immediately, he does a 180 and falls into step beside me. “I’m talking five minutes, not fifteen,” I add to Heath.
