Calyce was no soldier. But she knew the donai better than anyone. There was one order they would not obey. And it would end in a bloodbath. A human bloodbath.
She let out a small whimper.
Andret looked at her from the corner of his eye, and the pressure on her chest eased. She swallowed a mouthful of blood, choking on it.
She could not draw enough breath to tell him that she was already dead and to save himself and the brothers and sisters she cradled in her arms.
* * *
—
There was no disorientation, no indication at all that they’d just traveled 112 light-years. There was, in fact, no change in momentum at all. It was acceleration through normal space that was the problem. A problem not just of excess inertia but of inadequate fuel.
The fuel indicator pulsed an angry red. His nav controls projected only one path—the one he’d set them on—but no matter what he did, there would be no controlled descent.
They were going to crash.
Andret would have to use his remaining fuel to crash in a way that would allow them to survive it. Tante’s heart was already beating out a requiem, even though he’d opted for safer accelerations. If he’d followed her orders to the letter, she’d already be dead. His chest squeezed and tightened, making his heart ache.
He swung past the two moons and punched through the atmosphere of a world that humans had seeded and then abandoned, saving his fuel by not making proper adjustments. It was going to cost them. The hull would be compromised. But they’d gotten away. He didn’t expect the situation to last. Transponder or not, their ship left gravitic wakes that could be traced. Given their fuel, there were only so many suitable places to escape to on the path he’d taken.
But the planet was big. Ice capped both poles, glinting like diamonds. Bright, milk-white clouds swirled and danced over huge blue oceans and continents covered by dense green forests. They could lose themselves among the local fauna. He’d bought Tante time to do whatever she had planned next.
The ship brushed the dense forest canopy like a rock skimming off a lake, jolting the ship from side to side.
Tante groaned.
He dared not look at her—not until it was over.
Landing thrusters ignited the treetops. Damn. That would be hard to miss. They’d have to abandon the ship and get as far away from it as possible, all without leaving a trail.
Inertia pushed him forward as the ship made impact with the ground and spun to a stop. Alarms blared at him and then died as the ship lost power.
In the dark, the way Tante’s blood flowed told him she had broken bones and punctured organs. The scent of death was already emanating from her pores, permeating the cockpit.
“Tante, what’s going on?” he whispered as he knelt at her side.
Her eyes fluttered open and blood flowed down her chin.
“The council is going to destroy the donai.” Another pained breath, liquid bubbling where it shouldn’t be.
“They need us,” he said as he pried her hand off the containers.
She shook her head, and tears leaked out of her eyes as he took the containers and turned them over, looking for a way to open them.
“Tante, tell me you have human-compatible nanites in these.”
Another weak shake of her head.
“Run, Andret. Get as far away as you can. Don’t come out until your own kind comes for you. Promise me.”
“I can’t leave you. I am donai.”
“You are, and because you are, you can and you will.”
“Tante . . .”
“If you have to make a choice, save the container marked ‘female.’ In order to survive, the donai will need the ability to reproduce on their own. Do you understand?”
He dared not speak, breathe, or move. She was placing lives into his hands. He’d thought himself so ready to the task. And now that it was here . . .