at Jarren.
True. I dangled on the hook and caught a big smelly fish. “What about his people? Did anyone get hurt? Are my parents—”
“Other than being worried for you, your parents are fine.”
Good news. “I should message them.”
“Already done,” Radcliff says from the cockpit.
“Other than minor injuries, no one was harmed in the attack,” Niall continues. “Our team was successful. The looters who were not unconscious surrendered. They’ll have to be detained with the others from the first attack, along with Jarren. He’ll be put into detention once we question him. The others will be housed in Pit 1. We just don’t have the room or the manpower to guard them any other place.”
And the good guys don’t kill people if they can avoid it. “Plus the threat of HoLFs might keep them on their best behavior.”
“Yup,” Elese chimes in. “Y’all be good or we’ll turn off the radio waves and let you be HoLF food.”
The shuttle lands with a slight bump, waking me and Niall. We curled up together and fell asleep during the last couple hours of the trip. Despite his claims of feeling better, he’s still recovering from the blood loss. My parents are waiting for me in the port. I’m squished in a parent sandwich as soon as I step down. Considering I never expected to see them again, I don’t mind at all.
There’s excited chattering and explanations all the way to the infirmary. Niall hasn’t been officially discharged and the doctor wants to observe him one more night. And the various cuts and bruises over my body need to be—you guessed it—cleaned and bandaged.
“It’s a good thing for you that we’ve invented accelerated healing,” Dr. Edwards says. “Or you’d have more scars.” He taps his chin with a finger. “Probably dozens. I wonder…you might have enough lacerations for a record. I’ll have to check your file.”
“Not funny, Doc,” I say.
“No, Miss Lawrence, it isn’t.” He gives me a long look before leaving.
After I’ve dressed in scrubs…again…I go to Niall’s room. He’s no longer in intensive care, but this room faced the explosion, too. The broken windows are boarded over, which is good since the sun’s been up for a couple of hours. At least someone has cleaned up the glass. I shudder just thinking about those sharp little shards. Ugh.
He wakes when I crawl into bed with him.
“I can get used to this,” he says sleepily. “Makes me want to stay here longer. Because as soon as I’m discharged—”
“Back to normal,” I say. “Or as normal as it gets for us.”
“Which is pretty crazy.” Then he frowns.
Uh oh. “What’s wrong? You don’t like crazy?”
“How can you ask me that? I’m in love with you. Crazy is part of the package.”
“Hey.” I swat him gently, because it’s true and he said he loves me. Can’t get enough of hearing that! “Love you, too, but why did you frown?”
“Just thinking about all the stuff we still have to figure out.”
“Like who Jarren’s working with and what they’re planning?” Knowing Jarren, he won’t tell us anything. Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing. “And what’s going on with those portals and how do we close that rip in Pit 2 to keep the HoLFs out forever?”
“Yes. We have Jarren—a major coup—and, without him in the Q-net, we’ll be able to reestablish contact with DES, but I think the bigger battle is still to come.”
Ugh. “Why don’t we worry about that tomorrow? Today, I’ve a more important question that needs an answer.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Your middle name. What does the S stand for?”
He smiles. “Sensible.”
The next morning Radcliff and my parents come to Niall’s room for a short debriefing. I tell them everything that happened. Mom scowls when I recount my reasoning about grabbing onto the shuttle’s leg. “Staying close to Jarren was the only thing I could do to keep him from detonating the explosive device.”
“The HoLFs are too good for him,” she mutters under her breath.
The thought of what my mother might do to him… No. Not going there.
“I’d like to get a closer look at his base, but I don’t have the manpower right now,” Radcliff says. “Jarren has clammed up as well. Too bad we don’t have any of that pink liquid you mentioned.”
“You couldn’t use it anyway,” Niall says. “Jarren has rights.” His tone is full of disgust.
“Yeah, the right to suffer horribly,” Dad says.
Wow. No love for the murdering looter. Not that I can blame them. “Maybe since I’ve been there and Jarren’s no longer in