Aurora Burning by Amie Kaufman Page 0,71

the PA calls. “ALL HANDS, PREPARE TO REPEL BOARDERS.”

“They are coming for Aurora … ,” I murmur.

“Who are you?” a voice demands.

I turn, see a tall Waywalker staring at me from within one of the holding cells, surrounded by thin and wasted compatriots. The silver of his hair is faded with age, thin lines etched in the skin around his mouth. He is an elder, perhaps two hundred years behind his eyes. He would have lived the glory before our fall. Before the rise of the Starslayer. Before we abandoned honor and began tearing at each other like starving talaeni over scraps.

He glances at the Warbreed glyf on my brow, at the carnage I have wrought among the Unbroken, clearly confused. I can feel his mind skimming the surface of mine, trying to ponder my riddle.

“I am no one of consequence,” I reply.

Turning to Finian, I nod to the dead bodies.

“Get yourself a weapon, Finian de Seel. We must go.”

Scarlett frowns, glances at the imprisoned Waywalkers. “You can’t just leave these people here?”

“We cannot bring them with us,” I say, marching across the block. “There is no room aboard the Zero. And there is no time to argue. Come.”

Zila nods, already hovering by the exit, a disruptor rifle in her arms. “It would be an unacceptable delay. And a mass escape will draw attention to our own.”

“They might cause confusion,” Scarlett counters, glancing at the nearest cell. “They might help. We can’t just abandon them. Can’t you feel their pain?”

A slight frown mars Zila’s brow, and she turns to look at our Face. “Scarlett, our single and most important objective is to support Aurora in preventing the hatching of the Ra’haam planets throughout the Milky Way. Any price we or others pay for the success of that mission is acceptable.”

“Every second we argue is another wasted,” I say, growing desperate.

“We have a little time?” Finian asks. “Zila already got the Hephaestus data and our uniglasses back.”

“I have them all with me,” Zila says, patting her pocket.

“YES, I’M HERE, I’M HERE, NOBODY PANIC!” comes a small, muffled voice.

“Silent mode,” Zila says.

“We must rescue your brother and get off this ship, Scarlett,” I say.

“My brother would be the first person to break these people out,” Scarlett says. “Don’t you dare use him as an excuse for abandoning them.”

She marches across the room and begins rummaging around in the uniform of the dead warden. Another blast rocks the Andarael. In my arms, Aurora frowns in her slumber. The wound at my shoulder is a slow and bloody agony. The lights are flashing white to gray, the alarms almost deafening.

“BREACH ON DECKS 17 AND 12,” the PA calls. “SECURITY AND ALL AVAILABLE HANDS TO 17 AND 12.”

“Scarlett, we have no time for this,” Zila says.

The ship shudders again as Scarlett finally recovers a passkey. I can smell smoke now, fuel and char. My heart is thrashing, stomach turning as Scarlett moves from one cell to another, shuffling around the entire room and freeing a flood of confused, desperate Waywalkers into the block. Andarael bucks like a wild thing beneath our feet.

Aurora opens her eyes in my arms.

“Kal?” she whispers.

“All is well, be’shmai,” I say, and in that moment, despite everything, it is true.

“Mothercustard,” she groans. “I feel like someone chewed me up and spat me out. That sister of yours …” She blinks hard, looking around us at the smoke, the bodies, the fleeing Waywalkers. “What’s h-happening?”

“We are leaving this place. Can you walk?”

“Scar, come on,” Finian pleads.

Helping Aurora down onto the deck, I shout, “Scarlett, we must go!”

Scarlett kills the punishment field and opens the final cage. The elder and his companions stumble out into screaming, chaotic freedom.

“Gratitude, young Terran,” he says.

“Get yourselves to the shuttle bays,” she says. “Get the hells out of here.”

He studies her for a long moment and then nods deeply, eyes closed, lacing together the fingers on both hands. Treating our Face to the mark of respect he would usually reserve for another Waywalker.

“If we can repay our debt to you,” he says, dignified amid the chaos, “you will find us at Tiernan Station. I am Elder Raliin Kendare Aminath.”

Scarlett takes time to offer a courteous nod in return, although now even she is clearly possessed by the urgent need to flee.

The Waywalkers gather a few weapons and make their break, out into the smoke and carnage. The ship rocks beneath us as the lights flicker and die, plunging us into sudden darkness. I hold Aurora tight to

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