of him suspected that he didn’t have to do this, that if he told Destiny he loved her, that he needed her far more than the nameless hordes of humanity, then she would come with him and give him her loyalty.
But he wasn’t sure. And he was scared. That once again he would give his heart and end up with nothing in return. Less than nothing.
Dammit, was it so much to ask just to come first for once?
Obviously.
He paused at the edge of the trees. The same place they had watched the shuttle from yesterday. The remains were still smoldering. He searched the area but could see nothing to indicate anyone was paying attention. Off toward the lake, the bare bones of the new Church were visible, the central tower reaching into the sky, the army of workers scurrying around under the watchful eyes of Kinross’s mercenaries. Children laboring, urged on by men with guns.
He watched for another few minutes, and then made his way across the open space in front of the Trakis Four. The skin of his back prickled, and he expected at any moment to hear a warning call, or more likely a bullet in the back with no warning. After all, they hadn’t given any warning before they had blown the shuttle. Rico must have really pissed them off.
But nothing and no one stopped him, and some of the tension lessened as he reached the top of the ramp and entered the dim light of the ship. The cavernous docking bay was empty now and deserted of people. He crossed the room; the double doors were open, and he paused for a moment in the corridor. He had no clue of the layout of the ships. She’d said the second level, but he had no idea which level he was on now. He looked around, saw nothing of any help, and started walking. Eventually he came to a junction; there was a picture of a ramp on the right hand turning and he decided that was his best bet. He strode down the ramp, and at the bottom was a sign on the wall with a number: 1. So he kept going up. The next was: 2 and he headed off down the corridor reading the room numbers.
He stopped outside room 206. The door was open.
Inside, Dr. Yang sat in a chair opposite the open doorway, her hands clasped on her lap, her eyes darting from side to side.
As he stepped into the room, her gaze fixed on him, then behind him. “Where is Destiny?” she asked.
“Safe.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “I never wanted any of this.”
Any of what? Time to find out. “She wants to come back. You won her over with the I love you crap.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “I do care about her.”
“You care about your family more.”
She got to her feet and turned away, her hands wrapped around her middle. When she turned back, the expression was gone from her face. “You said you wanted information. What do you want to know?”
“Destiny believes she has an important role to play. I want to know what it is.”
She pursed her lips. Then her glance shifted to the doorway. “I want proof first that your captain will give me sanctuary if I go against Kinross.”
He had the impression that she was buying time. It occurred to him that he should get out of there fast, but he suspected he was already too late. So at least he could try and learn something.
For a second, he considered magicking them both out of there. But he really didn’t have much faith in his ability to get them anywhere in one piece from inside a spaceship. Technology would have a peculiar effect on his magic. God knows where they might end up.
His ears pricked as he heard footsteps running down the corridor. He looked at Yang and she gave a helpless shrug. “I’m sorry.”
He forced his muscles to unwind. “Just tell me. Who is she? Why is she so important?”
She gave a little shake of her head, then soldiers appeared in the doorway, in full combat gear, guns drawn.
Ten of them. Seemed a little like overkill. He stood relaxed, his focus on the man at the center. Beneath the helmet and face mask he recognized Silas Wynch.
He turned back to Yang. “If they kill me, you’ll never find Destiny.” He waited, every muscle tense. If he needed to, he would vanish. To hell with