The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,103

You see the trail here?” As soon as he said it, Denver did see it, a twisting, glowing worm that didn’t look all that direct to him. It required an uncomfortable division of his attention, like he had one eye on internal workings of the ship, and the other eye on the path. It felt like an axe wedging between his eyes.

“That’s our path,” Laramie said. “You got a handle on the ship?”

“I do.” He focused on the giant, glowing button. “We need a bit more time.”

“Do we risk it? Jesus. OPAL? You have an opinion here?”

“The control system has proven quite safe for you both to manipulate. It’s possible that it won’t let you activate the drive at the wrong time. Then again, it’s possible you’ll cause a rift in the safety systems by activating too early and destroy the entire ship. Please proceed with caution.”

“Not helpful!”

“Guys!” Dusty shouted down to them. “We’ve got fistfights breaking out on just about every ship between people who want to surrender and people who don’t! The fleet is counting down to their first shot, you’ve got ten seconds! We need to go, now!”

“Nine…” OPAL started counting it off. “Eight…”

“I know!” It didn’t matter, they couldn’t go before the light was—

Blue! Bright, brilliant blue, so blue it somehow emanated heat, so bright it burned Denver’s eyes to see. The drive was charged. The shield was up. The Legacy was ready to fly.

He didn’t need to look at his brother. Standing together in the beam of light, Laramie really was his other half. Denver asked.

“Five…”

“Four…”

He gripped Laramie’s wrists, felt his brother’s slender fingers wrapped around his wrists in turn, both of them hanging on with every ounce of their strength.

“Three…”

Denver threw every bit of his mental energy at the button, discharging the stored energy into the drive.

“Two…”

The ship’s hum rose to a song, the floor quivering under Denver’s feet.

“One.”

The Legacy’s drive kicked into commission just as the spearpoint of the fleet fired on her. The shot should have punched right through the hull, but instead, the energy shot away into the distance, gradually dissipating.

The Legacy was already gone.

Denver’s head ached.

On second thought, “ached” didn’t begin to cover it. A pickaxe through the skull would have been less painful. Had he done Rave again? He didn’t remember buying any, or being high, but there was no other explanation for the incessant pounding between his temples or the painfully parched state of his throat. Denver groaned and opened his eyes.

He found himself in his own room aboard the Jiminy. Spence loomed over him, his brow creased with concern. “Denver, are you all right?”

“What happened?” Denver asked. The last thing he remembered was being in the spherical room aboard the Legacy. Had he dreamed all that?

He sat up and instinctively felt for his brother. He found Laramie alert and tense, almost as if he’d been waiting. His attention turned Denver’s way, and a wave of relief washed from him.

“Because I was sleeping?”

It was Spence who answered him. “You’ve been unconscious for almost twenty hours.”

“Are you serious?”

Denver rubbed his face. Something crusty and rust-colored caked the stubble on his jaw.

“You had a nosebleed,” Spence said before Denver could ask.

“Jesus.”

“I need to let Laramie know you’re awake.”

“He’s already on his way.”

Spence laughed. “Of course he is.”

Denver stumbled into the kitchen where he took a couple of pills for his headache and guzzled three glasses of cold, clear, delicious water. A quick shower did wonders for his state of mind. By the time he toweled off, the headache had eased.

“Feeling better?” Spence asked when Denver finally emerged from his room in a clean set of clothes.

“Infinitely. Except now I’m starving.” Although he was dying to talk to Laramie. To find out how far they’d traveled and how far they had left to go. Tonlet and Zahn were probably driving Laramie and Marit crazy. “OPAL?”

The only answer was from Spence. “She’s not here.”

“What do you mean she’s not here? Is she so far into the Legacy’s mainframe that she can’t access the Jiminy?”

“No, I mean—”

He was interrupted by the arrival of Laramie, who surprised Denver by pulling him into a hug.

“Okay.” Denver patted him awkwardly on the back. Hugging just wasn’t something Laramie allowed often. He must have been really worried.