Page 42 of Bound by Stars

Weslie

Six days to Mars

The metal cuffs are cold against my skin, but my body is on fire. Rage courses through me as I’m shoved into a small white room past the bridge. The two porters pause outside the door. Through the narrow opening, I can see one of them tap the brass-edged white star pinned to their vest.

My mind buzzes with all of Nazari’s accusations. None of it makes sense.

Slow down, Weslie. First things first, you have to get out of here.

I scan the space. Exposed pipes run along the walls and low ceiling, painted to blend in. The style of the room a strange blend of sublevels and first class. More Earth than Elysium.

A heavy wooden desk sits in the center of the room, strewn with papers, a slender brass lamp, and a miniature, hovering holomap of the Boundless , rotating in slow circles.

On the corner of the table sits a small carved wooden box.

I rush across the room, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I twist my linked hands around my body and fumble with the lid.

One of the porters catches my shoulder. A pale woman in a navy blue beanie with a white star emblem on her forehead. She unlatches one of my wrists.

I duck out of her hold, slamming into a broad chest.

The second porter, a man with olive-brown skin and long black hair that hangs over half his face, shoves me back into her arms. “Keep a better grip on her.”

“I got her,” she says through her teeth.

He drags a wooden chair to the side of the room, placing it under the middle of three portholes.

“This is bullshit. I didn’t do anything!”

The beanie-clad woman drags me across the room and throws me into the chair. “Save it for the captain.”

The man easily pulls my freed left hand over my head and slams it into the cold metal wall, while the woman digs her fingers deep into my other arm and drags her nails through my flesh.

I swallow the scream tearing through my throat.

They lock my cuffs again, binding me to a wide pipe. Wrists crossed over my head. They leave me there, contorted, armrest digging into my ribs and shoulder stretching in its socket.

Chest heaving with sharp breaths, I tilt forward as far as the restraints will allow and peer out the open doorway. Two others stand in the hall. One in a porter’s vest. The other in a navy blazer and captain’s hat. Nazari.

The porter lowers his head, whispering so I can barely make out some of his words. “She…unplanned variable…maybe…should aband—”

“It has to be now.” Nazari shakes his head. Even with his back turned, I can hear him clearly. “Less than ten hours until we’re out of the dead zone.”

Waving the porter off, Captain Nazari enters.

With his hands folded behind his back, he marches around his desk and past the hovering map of the ship.

A piece on top blinks red. The escape pod bay.

He settles in the high-backed leather chair.

“Our records show you’ve been spending a fair amount of time in the escape pod bay. Why?”

“It’s quiet,” I say through a quick exhale. The arm of the chair cuts between my ribs. “A few letters from a deadbeat father that never made it to me don’t make me a terrorist. You have no eviden—”

“You have a relationship with one of my crew. Reve Moreno. Is he also working with the E.F.E.?” He swipes the tablet on his desk and throws the image up on the wall.

A life-size photo of Reve and me lying on the pod bay floor, his hand around my waist, his head blocking most of my face, kissing me.

Bile rises in my throat. My breaths are coming too fast. I’m holding back sobs, but they’re choking me faster than I can suck in air. Swallowing it all back, I let out a long, steadying breath. “Was anyone hurt…in the explosion?”

“We’re still assessing the damage and security footage.” He taps the screen and leans back in his chair. The image disappears. “How many of your father’s associates are aboard my ship?”

“Like I told you before, I haven’t spoken to my father in years. Not since he abandoned us for Mars.” The words come out as a whisper.

“What has he told you about his accomplices in his communications from Mars?”

I shake my head. “I never got any messages.”

He leans forward, touching his chin to his steepled hands.

“Weslie, treason is a dire offense, especially during interplanetary travel. You will be processed when we get to Mars. If you help me, and I can apprehend the rest of the E.F.E. members before anything serious were to happen, you could get off with as little as banishment from space travel and would be sent back to your life on Earth.”

“I had nothing to do with this.”

He stands and moves around to the front of the desk. “Just give me names, Ms. Fleet.”

“I don’t know!”

He grabs the arms of my chair, boxing me in. His scent, cologne mixed with grease and fresh plastic, fills my nose. “Cut the act. There are lives at stake on this ship.” Lowering his voice to a whisper, his tone softens as he speaks close to my ear. “Weslie, please, what did Sam tell you?”

I lean away, frowning. The way he said my dad’s name. Like he—

Thud, thud, thud.

The door opens and another porter rushes in.

Nazari pushes off the arms of my chair, and I can breathe again.

“You’re needed on the bridge, Captain. There’s a…” The porter notices me and presses his lips together before looking back at Nazari. “It’s urgent.”

“I’ll be there soon.” He turns back to me.

“Sir, you really should—”

Vibration rolls through the metal walls and floor. An alarm sounds. Red and blue lights flash in the hall.

The captain huffs out a breath and stares down at me. “Last chance, Ms. Fleet.”

I stare back at him with wide eyes. I can’t say “I don’t know” any other way.

He nods once and then rushes for the door, barking orders to the waiting porter. “Get a team and assess the remaining escape pods immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

He glances back, meeting my eyes with something like sadness in his expression, before the office door shuts.

I’m on my own. Aside from ILSA parked in the opposite corner of the room. Her face screen is dark. Maybe she’s only in hibernation mode. Please be in hibernation mode. “ILSA, power on.”

She stays still and lifeless.

“ILSA! Please, for the love of the universe! Power on!”

Another tremor rolls through the ship like thunder.

ILSA rattles in the corner like a pile of scrap metal.

Completely shut down. I have to get to her power button to turn her back on.

Hands balled into fists, I yank at the restraints over my head.

The chain clanks against the thick pipe along the wall behind me. Metal bites into my wrists.

The captain’s order echoes in my head. Assess the remaining escape pods. The alarms. The noises. The vibrations. It can’t all be from the pod bay explosion. He said it was sealed. And it was such a small portion of the ship. Unless…the first-class escape pod bay was only the beginning.

The floor jolts. A horrible, high-pitched groaning sound reverberates through the walls. Like the ship is being torn in half.

Another red patch lights up on the mini holomap. Another piece of the ship lost.

The Boundless isn’t going to make it to Mars.

I have to get out. I have to get out now.

Shifting out of the seat, I untwist my hands and pull against the metal cuffs.

With a foot against the wall, I hold my breath and push back as hard as I can. My bones ache and my skin burns, my shoulders threatening to dislocate. I can’t take the pain any longer. A frustrated cry rips through my throat, and I fall to my knees, my throbbing hands anchored high above my head.

I suck in ragged breaths, holding back tears. It’s no use. I’m alone. I’m going to die here in this little room chained to a sinking ship.

Jupiter’s face, pained and confused, flashes across my memory.

All the air leaves my lungs, and the hollowness left inside me threatens to suck me in like a black hole.

That can’t be the last time I see him. He has to know I didn’t have anything to do with his sister’s death, that I’m not a part of any of this.

I have to find a way out. There has to be one.

Assess, Weslie. I stand, inspecting my restraints. Basic locks connected by a metal chain. A relic. If I could find something sharp to hook it on, maybe I could break it.

The room is small, and the desk isn’t far. I turn my back to it and extend my leg, nudging the wooden box on the corner with my toe. I get it to the edge, trying to loop my foot around it, but my shoe barely reaches.

With a deep breath, I press my hands to either side of the pipe and push off, reaching my leg back as far as I can until the toe of my shoe knocks the side of the box. I kick it to the floor. It hits with a crack behind me, contents clattering.

I twist back to see over my shoulder. A collection of styluses. Not strong enough. A few rubber bands. Useless. And metal prongs? No. A compass. With two sharp points. Perfect.

I extend my pointed foot, but it’s just out of reach. I step on the stylus it’s propped up on, gently rolling it toward me. The compass moves a few millimeters before slipping off onto the carpet. It’s too far away.

I survey the office again, but there’s nothing in reach. I sink back into the chair.

It’s no use. I’m completely alone. Closer to a planet of people who think I’m their enemy than home. How am I going to get out of this mess if I can’t even get out of this chair?

The floor shakes, and the walls rattle once again.

A thundering rhythm outside the office door sends me to my feet. What’s going on out there? Is someone coming for me? Jupiter? Footsteps pound past, receding into the distance. I sink back into the seat.