Page 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

-Clay-

MY brAIN STRUGGLED to catch up.

These were humans.

Why were there other humans on the ship?

And why were they in those tubes?

I moved closer to the nearest tube, drawn to it with a growing sense of dread I didn’t understand. In the back of my mind, I was dimly aware of Arcay’s confusion at whatever I was sending through the bond, and it quickly grew to concern as I peered into the tube. The man inside was completely naked, and limp—either unconscious or dead—and held up by metal supports around his arms and neck. His head lolled to one side, graying hair falling across his face, almost hiding it from view. But what I could see was enough. My eyes widened. The face was sunken, but not enough to be unrecognizable. That hooked nose, the square jaw, the serious line of his mouth.

No. It couldn’t be.

“Captain Turner?” I said, half expecting him to look up at his name. My breath fogged the glass and obscured his face, and I wiped it frantically. He looked different, like he’d been starved, but it was definitely him.

“Esseeli an ithe plio stuilo hapti. ”

I jumped at the harsh voice behind me

A guard, spear in hand, stood in the doorway. I dimly recognized him—Tarro or something. I pointed to Captain Turner in the tube.

“Why is he in there? What is this?” I said.

The guard repeated himself, gesturing with his spear at the hallway outside in the universal gesture for ‘get out’. I shook my head and backed away from him, but he stayed where he was, hesitating.

“ Arani , you must…leave,” he managed in Panlin.

He looked like he wanted to pursue me, but wasn’t sure what he should do. He stayed where he was.

“Why are they here?”

My eyes fell onto the next tube. I realized I vaguely knew this man as well—another crew member from the ISE Explorer. In a daze, I moved on to the next tube. Another human. This one female, dark hair cut short. Our navigator. I’d never learned her name, too wrapped up in my own bullshit. Then another woman. Then—

My stomach dropped.

No.

Martinez. His skin was pasty and sick, holding nothing of his usual tan, but there was no mistaking him. Even unconscious, his brow creased with disapproval, like he was about to open his eyes and give me another lecture about my sleeping habits.

The room spun around me. How..? They’d left days ago, hadn’t they? They were supposed to be far away from here.

In the back of my mind, I was aware of a buzzing coming from Arcay. Anger. Fear. I swallowed around the lump in my throat and tried to move on to the next tube, but my path was suddenly blocked by the guard’s broad chest. He towered over me. I tried to push past, but I might as well have tried to force my way through a brick wall.

“ Arani, you must leave,” he said, eyes imploring.

“Get out of my way,” I snapped.

“I— Arani …you cannot…enter.” He struggled with the words. I was Arcay’s mate, which ranked me above him. He should be doing what I said.

“No. This is my crew.” I tried to push past him again and he hesitated, still blocking my way but keeping his hands to himself. When I went to cut around him in the other direction, he stepped forward and grabbed me by the arm, his huge hand covering it from shoulder to elbow. His grip was firm, but careful—enough to hold, but not hurt me. I fought to get loose as he started to drag me back towards the door.

“Let go of me. I know them,” I shouted as I struggled.

The anger from Arcay suddenly flared into a flame that warmed my chest.

The guard forced me away. “I…cannot—”

I felt Arcay’s presence moments before I heard him, the feeling like the warmth of the sun on my back. Then his growl came from the hallway outside the room.

He appeared like an avenging angel of death, bursting through the strange hidden door in a blur of muscled limbs and bared teeth. Before the guard could react, Arcay tore his hand off my arm, and then he was flying across the room. He crashed into a shelving unit stacked with surgical instruments which rained down around him.

Arcay rounded on me, caging me with his body, his eyes wild. “Na lye anay?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Are…you all right?”

“I—no, I’m—Arcay, it’s my crew.”

His face creased in confusion, and then he looked up and took in his surroundings for the first time, his head swinging backward and forwards between the tubes.

“I do not understand.”

I pulled away from him. I had to look. I had to know. I continued moving from tube to tube, feeling sick with each familiar face. In the last tube, still and pale, I found Caldwell. His hair was lank and greasy, his skin so pale it looked almost see-through. And his youthful face was sunken and gray.

I was going to be sick.

I looked over at Arcay, who was still standing in the middle of the room. Our bond was a mess of emotions shooting back and forth between us, and I couldn’t tell which were who’s.

“Are they dead?” I asked. “Why—why the fuck are they here?”

Arcay didn’t answer either question. Even with our tangled mess of a bond underneath, on the surface, he seemed calm. The only steady spot in a world tearing itself apart. My hands were in my hair, sliding back again and again.

They were here; they were all here . My crew were stuffed into glass tubes on the same ship I’d been on for the last…however long it’d been since I was taken. How? Why? They were supposed to be gone, back through the wormhole and far away from here.

“Get them out,” I said.

I didn’t wait for Arcay to move, going to the controls next to the tube holding Caldwell, pushing them at random. It was a stupid thing to do, those buttons could have done anything, but I wasn’t with it.

I jabbed at them until I must have hit the right thing, because the tube opened with a hiss of steam, and his limp body flopped forward. I caught him in my arms before he hit the floor, and scooped him up. He weighed almost nothing. Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. I took him to the examination table in the middle of the room and lay him down on it.

Arcay was still standing blankly in the middle of the room, like he was deep in thought.

“Arcay. Help me.” I shouted, and he snapped back to reality.

Arcay snarled something at the guard, who dragged himself off the ground, limbs heavy, and started opening the other tubes. He stopped to clutch his head, making a whimpering sound. Arcay worked on the other side of the room.

I pressed my fingers to Caldwell’s throat. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and I couldn’t find a pulse. My hands shook as I moved across the length of his neck, searching for a heartbeat, for any sign that my friend was still in there somewhere.

Come on. Please. Please.

Finally, I felt a faint tap under his skin, just below the side of his jaw, and I pressed my fingers in. There it was, slow but there. He was alive. I released a breath.

Around me, one by one, Arcay and Tarro released the others and laid them out—some on the other tables, but most on the floor. I went from body to body, checking them for signs of life. Caldwell seemed to be the one wort off, but now that I knew what to look for it was easier.

As soon as I found what I needed, I moved on. Some had faint pulses, others chests that were slowly rising; eyes flickering under their lids like they were dreaming, half curled fingers twitching. They were all alive. There must have been at least twenty-five of them, all naked, limp, and cold.

Unsure what to do, I went back to Caldwell, and felt Arcay draw close to my side.

“What’s happened to them? Are they ok?” I asked.

He made a noise in his throat. “It would appear they are in some sort of… chemical sleep. It is often used in medical procedures. They should not be harmed by this. As to why they are here, though…” he trailed off and I followed his hard gaze to the instruments arranged around the room, and another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Had someone been doing experiments on them? My mind skittered away from the thought, too horrific to even think about.

Suddenly, Caldwell started making a low, keening noise. I crouched over him.

“Caldwell? Can you hear me?”

His limbs started to twitch, and his head flopped to the side. The noise was like that of an injured animal.

I took his hand and squeezed it gently. “Hey, Caldwell, it’s ok. It’s me, Clay. You’re ok now.”

Caldwell’s head turned towards me and his eyes opened a crack. My breath caught. His pupils were blown so wide his eyes were almost entirely black.

“Wha…where…is he?” he mumbled.

“Who? It’s me, Clay.”

Caldwell’s eyes moved across my face, and he blinked a few times before murmuring.

“Clay?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me.” I smiled at him.

“What…” His eyes slid to Arcay. Caldwell flinched like he’d been electrocuted, and started making that horrible, keening noise again. He struggled to move his limbs, but they just flopped uselessly on the table top.

“Hey, no, it’s ok. It’s ok.”

He kept trying to get away, panting with the effort.

“Him… him…” he groaned, tears sliding down his cheeks. I looked at Arcay’s alarmed expression as Caldwell writhed on the table and cried, desperate to get away from him. “It’s him.”