weapon, and that every Third Estater on the planet is an explosif waiting to detonate.”
A tense, grim silence fell across the room. For a moment, no one spoke. No one even dared to breathe. Even Gabriel, who was still unconscious on the bed next to them, seemed to still as this weight descended upon them.
At once, Marcellus, Cerise, and Alouette turned toward the window. Toward the massive moon of Adalisa that was holding them hostage.
“Sols!” Marcellus shouted. He spun around and sent his fist flying into one of the infirmerie cabinets. The door busted open and medical supplies came spilling out. Alouette and Cerise just stared at him, astonished, as he shook out his now-aching hand, drops of blood sprinkling onto the pristine white floor. “We’re trapped here! We’ll never get back to Laterre. Those warships won’t give up until we’re found and captured. I thought we could stop him. I thought …” But his voice trailed off. Because it didn’t matter what he thought anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.
He had lost.
His grandfather had won, and Marcellus, the general’s sad excuse for a protégé, had lost.
Marcellus leaned against the examination table and buried his head in his hands, once again feeling the sharp sting of his grandfather’s clever, strategic mind. Once again feeling like no matter what he did, how far he traveled, he was still three moves behind.
Always three moves behind.
He thought about the metal canister filled with vials of Dr. Collins’s inhibitor. Their one hope of stopping the general. And they’d never even be able to use them. “It’s over,” he whispered.
“Maybe not,” said a soft yet pensive voice, and Marcellus looked up to see Cerise had moved over to the monitor on the wall and was now tapping furiously on the screen. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about it before, but now it’s so obvious.”
“What’s obvious?” Alouette asked warily.
“We still don’t know exactly what the general is going to do with the weapon, right?” Cerise peered at them from the monitor. “But he must have some sort of plan. A strategy. If we can get back to Laterre and get the inhibitor into the water supply before he implements his plan, maybe we can still stop him from doing any permanent damage.”
Marcellus wasn’t following. Had Cerise completely forgotten about the Albion warships lying in wait on the other side of this moon? “Cerise, what are you talking about? Even if we can somehow get past the warships, it’ll still take five days to get back to Laterre. We’ll be too late. Not to mention the general will be waiting there for us with his own ships.”
“Exactly.” Cerise resumed drumming on the screen as though that settled everything.
Marcellus glanced at Alouette with a look that said, She’s not okay, is she?
Alouette bit her lip and placed a gentle hand on Cerise’s shoulder. “Cerise. We’ll be detected as soon as we try to accelerate to supervoyage.”
“Which is why we can’t use supervoyage.”
She gave the screen one last tap and stepped back. A moment later, the ship’s autopilote voice slipped through the speakers. “Estimated arrival on Laterre in twenty-two minutes.”
“Hypervoyage?” Alouette asked incredulously.
“We would instantly disappear from all scans,” Cerise explained. “We’d be able to get past the Albion Royal Space Fleet and the general’s fleet. We could enter Laterrian airspace completely undetected.”
Marcellus stood up straighter, his body now coursing with newfound strength. Newfound hope. “Are you sure?”
Cerise jutted out her chin. “I’m sure.”
“Have you two lost your minds?” Alouette said, suddenly stepping between Marcellus and Cerise. “You can’t hypervoyage within the System. It’s too dangerous. It’s only meant for deep space travel.”
“Has anyone ever tried it?” Marcellus asked.
Alouette reeled on him. “No! Because everyone knows there are too many manmade objects in orbit around the planets. Satellites and voyageurs and spacecraft carriers. It’s just too many variables to account for. You’re likely to crash. Or worse, hypervoyage right inside of something and explode instantly.”
“Likely,” Cerise pointed out. “But not guaranteed.”
Alouette threw up her hands. “Do you really want to debate semantics right now?” Marcellus was certain he’d never seen her so unhinged before. So desperate. “You’re talking about bending space. Trust me, that’s not something you want to mess with. The results could be catastrophic. Not just for us, but for anything that happens to be in our path.”
“I’m just saying,” Cerise countered, “there’s a chance that it could work.”
Frustration flashed in Alouette’s eyes. “Fine, you want to talk chances? If we jump to hypervoyage inside the System Divine,