Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,183

determination to do exactly what his grandfather asked of him. To be the person his grandfather wanted him to be.

Had the general been plotting to take over the planet even then?

Which Regime had he been grooming Marcellus to govern?

The corrupt, divided one that currently resided over Laterre? Or this new, terrifying, “streamlined” version that his grandfather had been working so hard to instill?

Ba-bummm. Ba-bummm. Ba-bummm.

Slowly, Marcellus became aware of his own heartbeat, pulling him out of his memories, tugging at his consciousness. His mind scrambled to connect back with his senses. And then there it was. A tingling in his fingertips, in his palms, the soles of his feet, the tip of his scalp, the end of his nose. Every nerve felt like it was waking up, coming back online. His body, the seat under him, the floor below, began to reemerge through the nothingness to become real again.

Finally, light splintered in through his eyelids, unfurling in a mess of colors and glowing shards. He blinked once and then twice, and the fragments began to coalesce.

He saw, in front of him, not stars, but the whole world.

His world.

Great swirls and eddies of clouds enfolded themselves around the familiar, glowing planet. It spun on its axis like a great billowing ball of white and gray thread.

They’d made it. Laterre stood before them like an oasis in the sky, and they were alive.

The ship began to rumble beneath him. Gently at first, but rapidly building in intensity, until Marcellus’s whole body was shuddering.

Is that normal?

He turned toward Alouette to gauge her reaction, but he couldn’t even see her. The ship was shaking so badly now, his eyes could no longer focus on one object. Her face was jumbled and disfigured, like some of the First World paintings he’d seen hanging up in the Grand Palais—entire people reduced to nothing but colors and shapes.

She seemed to be shouting something, but he couldn’t make it out.

“What’s happening?” he tried to ask, but suddenly, something shot across his vision. A spark in the darkness. He turned back toward the window and just managed to catch the tail end of a large object hurtling through space. It almost looked like a comet.

No, Marcellus thought as a wave of panic crashed into him. It looks like a …

The voyageur pitched forward, sending Marcellus slamming into his restraints. Then a terrible sound crackled in his ears. It was blaring and violent and deafening.

A siren.

Definitely not normal.

And then a voice. Too calm to be human.

“Emergency. Primary engine critical. Emergency. Secondary reactor detached.”

Detached?

Was that what he’d seen flying past the ship?

“Emergency. Primary engine critical. Emergency …” The recorded message proceeded to loop on and on, punctuated by the screech of the alarm.

“The ship!” Cerise shouted from somewhere beside him. “It’s coming apart!”

Marcellus struggled to make sense of the words. But his head felt like it was splitting open. His brains would soon be splattered across this windshield.

Coming apart.

Another object flashed before him, and suddenly he understood. The ship was breaking.

“Oh my Sols! Look!” Cerise pointed to a monitor on the console that showed a view of the back of the ship. A great jagged gash had been torn across the voyageur’s shell, and protruding between the two silver wings was a giant mess of fiery metal, twisted antennas, and shattered solar panels.

They’d hypervoyaged right into a satellite.

“Emergency. Tertiary reactor detached.”

Marcellus finally found his voice. “We have to get to the escape pod before the hull breaches and sucks us all out into space!” He banged down on the mechanism controlling his restraints until his harness released with a low hiss. He leapt out of the seat and paused, waiting to see if he would stand or float. His feet stayed rooted to the ground, which meant the gravity simulator was still intact.

Alouette was already on the move, jumping out of her seat and rushing toward Gabriel. He was still unconscious. His head slumped against his chest.

“Help me get him out!” she cried, her fingers fiddling with the restraints.

As the ship continued to lurch back and forth, Marcellus staggered toward Gabriel’s chair, his legs feeling wobbly beneath him, like he’d drunk too much champagne. Alouette managed to get the harness unlatched, and Gabriel tipped forward with a low moan. Marcellus dove to catch him before he slid clear out of the seat.

“What’s happening, mec?” he garbled into Marcellus’s shoulder. “Is the ship going to explode?”

“Yes!” Cerise shouted. “This time, the ship is actually going to explode.”

Marcellus bent down and, with a