Page 128 of Last of Her Name

“Wait!” Mara shakes her head. “It’s him! The direktor!”

We peer around the corner and see two soldiers have stepped forward: one Unionist, one Loyalist. Their helmets nearly touch as they circle each other.

“You fool,” Zhar says. “You’ve killed us all!”

Volkov curses. “I do what is right, Lilyan. Why can’t you ever see that? You always took Pyotr’s side, in everything!”

“There’s too many of them,” Riyan says, his voice strained. “If I were fresh, maybe, but I’ve been holding this stress field too long already. I can’t do it much more.”

“Stacia!” calls a muffled voice.

I turn automatically, looking back the way we came.

My parents are gliding toward us, and with a sob of relief, I release Mara and meet them; we form a little circle, helmets pressed together.

“We’ve been looking everywhere,” Mom sobs.

“Are you all right?” asks Dad.

“No, I’mnot. The Prismata—”

“We know. We saw it all.” Dad looks past me. “We have to get on a ship.Fast. That debris cloud will be here in less than a minute.”

Riyan gasps. “I’m … losing it …”

I can feel myself getting lighter, lifting until only my toes are on the floor. Even through his suit, I can see Riyan straining to maintain the stress field. The soldiers are starting to turn, feeling the change in pressure, and both Zhar’s and Volkov’s visors fix on me.

“Kill her!” Volkov shouts, and the vityazes burst forward, taking Zhar’s Loyalists by surprise. Zhar slams her fist into Volkov’s helmet, shattering the visor, and then I lose sight of them as the soldiers charge at us.

Mom, Dad, and Pol step in front of me. Mara screams. My gaze shifts, horrified, to the crack on my visor, which begins to splinter and branch, probably due to the shifting pressure of Riyan’s stress field. The thin wail of escaping oxygen fills my ears. I’m losing precious air by the moment. I can’t even call out for fear my voice will shatter the visor completely.

Then, out of nowhere, Natalya Ayedi comes whirling like a red tornado. She’s wearing no space suit, only a black oxygen mask clamped over the lower half of her face. Her hands spread, her braids swirling around her head like black vipers.

The vityazes stop in their tracks, just before they can clash with my parents and Pol. They hit the floor hard, screaming in pain as Natalya’s stress field pushes them into the ground. My feet sink down again, gravity restored for now. Farther down the docks, the Loyalists hang back, staring at the tensor girl with obvious fear.

“Yes, Nat!” Riyan calls, his hands dropping to his sides. “Where have youbeen?”

“Unconscious!” his sister shouts. “They got me with a stunner.”

“Everyone always shoots the tensors first,” Riyan says.

“Not always,” Pol mutters. “Let’s go!”

We jump over the vityazes and run for the port to theValentina, which Natalya’s left open. She’s suspended in the air, her toes several inches off the ground, her eyes burning as she stares at one vityaze in particular—Volkov. She’s got him and Zhar on their backs, their bodies twisted in agony, and I know the pressure on the direktor is probably ten times what she’s putting on the other soldiers.

“Stace!” Pol’s holding out his hand to help me. The ship’s air lock is open, and the dark interior of theValentinawaits.

Tearing my gaze away from Zhar and Volkov, I hand Mara to him.

He pauses. “Her people are right there. We don’t have to take her. Let her go with them.”

“I made a promise to her father,” I say. “She comes with us.”

Pol shrugs, and he and Riyan pull Mara into the clipper’s air lock. Once she’s through, I follow, navigating clumsily in my space suit.

I wonder what the point of all this is. If the Prism is down, there’s no power to the Takhdrive. No warping, no boosters, nothing. TheValentinahas a solar backup supply, so we’ll have a bit of power, but even if there’s rudimentary life support, it won’t last us long.

Halfway through the door, I pause, hearing an odd sound. It’s like hail on the metal roof of the winery back home, which seems like a totallywrongsound to hear in space.