Page 158 of Pets in Space 10

She could not help glancing at the nearest containers, plotting the start of the next day’s course. The lowering sun had grown as it faded, the sky turning to burgundy. Deep shadows flowed from the east sides of the containers, the western faces in sharp relief.

A smudge of black caught her eye and she turned. “Is that fireburst score?”

Lochan turned back, following her gaze. “Mayhap. There was some resistance when we boarded the freighter.”

He reached for her hand, urging her on. “Once the sun hits the horizon, darkness comes quickly.”

Hoping the fireburst had not breached the container and damaged the contents, she gave into his urging. She wanted to be well within the security barriers before sunset. At the dog’s flagging steps, she reached down. “Come on, Rogue. Time to ride.”

Lochan sighed. “You should not name it. It is already bonding to you.”

“Too late.” She settled the bag to keep Rogue secure. “Besides, calling him ‘it’ or ‘dog’ is rude.”

***

Lochan swallowed the last bit of the local rabbit and stretched out his legs in contentment.

Even with the complication of Rogue, he was not at all opposed to spending several days on the planet.

It was a pleasant respite from the stress of the past few months, and he found Adele captivating.

The flickering fire gave intriguing dimensions to the curves and lines of her face.

The fire was not essential. They had a portable cooker.

But the Nightingale crew had found that the light and warmth from a fire was comforting in the vast darkness of the uninhabited planet.

Other than the fire, the only light came from the small steady blue lights on the barrier poles that surrounded the two flyers and the campsite between them.

The barriers emitted a high-pitched frequency that drove away all the animal and insect life within three hundred paces.

Rogue had whined and struggled in Adele’s arms while they passed through.

Once within the barriers, he settled, no longer subject to the resonance.

Across the fire, the two militia guards were working through their share of rabbit and the preserved grains and vegetables from the flyers’ stores.

Both Corporal Miles and Mrs. Thyme had proved as competent as Lochan expected from the Serengeti.

They were also reserved with him, but given the rivalry between Matahorn and Serengeti, that was to be expected.

They were less reserved with Adele who had apparently sparred with both during the voyage.

It was well she was in fit condition given the hiking expected in the next few days.

Oblivious of his regard, Adele nibbled the last bit of meat from a bone.

He had thought she might be squeamish about cleaning the rabbits, but with a mechanic’s precision, she mirrored his gestures for skinning and gutting.

At her feet, Rogue collapsed in a boneless heap, exhausted from his adventures.

Fortunately, he seemed to tolerate the rabbit.

Finishing her meal, she gazed up at the star-filled sky. “The stars are so easy to see without a moon.”

“There is a moon,” Lochan replied. “But it is new moon. It will not be visible until tomorrow night.”

“I keep trying to pick out familiar constellations, but of course, there are none.”

Leaning back, he pointed to the south. “Do you see that bright cluster of three stars above the hills?”

At her murmured yes, he smiled. “Imagine the most eastern as the tip of the beak. The two higher ones, eyes. Now look above the eyes a bit west, there are two bright stars and then a bit lower on each side, two more.”

She peered into the sky. “I see them. Not a rectangle, almost a triangle but without the pinnacle star.”

This was as much fun as the equines. “Or the curve of a peacock’s tail.”

“A peacock?” Her eyes turned to him. “Mulan’s peacock? From the seer’s renderings?”

When the Nightingale set out for the Thirteenth System, Sinead’s seer in the Third System had created a series of images, mapping the Five Warriors’ animal symbols in the night sky above the two planets.

“The very one.”

She turned her gaze back to the sky, smiling with delight. “Somehow, that makes Bright Star Prime more . . . familiar.”

The corporal rose and stretched. “I am going to check the barriers.” He looked at the young militia woman. “The barriers will keep away even the tigers, but protocol dictates we check again at dark of night. That is your duty.”

Adele covered a yawn. “It is not so late, but I find I desire slumber. Should we douse the fire?”

He regretted the evening was ending. At least his tent was next to hers. The militia were on the other side of the fire. “I will tend to it.”

***

Adele woke with a start, confused by her surroundings.

As the fog of sleep cleared, she recognized she was on the narrow expandable camp bed, protected by the attached tentlike structure.

It was a marvel of engineering, fitting in a space no larger than a slate satchel when collapsed.

It was also dark. She could feel Rogue perched next to her, emitting a low growl.

At the tent opening, Lochan whispered, “Get into the flyer.”

“What?”

He leaned in, a hand groping and landing on her boots. “Take these and get into the flyer.”

The unmistakable sound of fireburst punctuated his order.

Struggling free of the cover, she was glad she took his advice and slept in her clothes. Snagging the strap of her gear bag, she scrambled to the opening. Reaching back, she captured Rogue by his harness.

“Stay low. Below the tent.” Lochan moved away from the opening, pushing her into a crouch as she emerged. At his nudge, she used the gap between their tents to close the few steps to the flyer. With his back to her, he followed, sweeping his fireburst pistol in the dark.

More fireburst, and then a cry of pain. Was it one of the guards?

Her head hit the side of the flyer, invisible in the dark.

More fireburst followed from the other side of the camp.

Whatever was attacking them, the militia were holding it at bay.

Rogue was still growling but not struggling against her grasp.

Dragging her shoulder against the side of the flyer for guidance, she reached the entrance.

Lochan pressed hard against her, his free hand searching for the panel.

The soft hiss of the door rising was almost inaudible in the barrage of fireburst. She tossed in her boots and gear bag, grabbed the frame, and scrambled in with Rogue held against her side.

By the time she reached the passenger chair, Lochan was within and the door closing.

She had dragged on a boot when the flyer’s lights flooded the campsite, revealing a dozen figures circling the barriers—men and women with rifles.

“Jonthan’s justice,” Lochan profaned. “I knew it was too much fireburst for the militia.”

“Can you do something?”

“Not until I know where the Serengeti guards are.”

He swept the area and profaned again. “Mrs. Thyme is down.”

“Where?”

“Tents.”

Peering through the window she saw a body near the militia tents, limbs twisted unnaturally. Fireburst hit a tent and passed through leaving a smoldering gap. The structure collapsed, revealing the man crouched behind it. Another fireburst disintegrated Miles’ head.

Adele gasped in horror.

Lochan stroked the controls, and the propulsion system came alive. “Are you secured?”

“What? Oh.” She stomped into the second boot, fumbling for the restraints.

Rogue whined from the floor. He had survived without restraints on the flight from Deuce, but then they had not been under attack.

Reaching into her gear bag, she found his leash.

As an improvised belt, it was not ideal, but laced through his harness it kept him in her lap. “We are secure.”

The flyer rolled backward, away from the camp. “Come on . . . follow me, you scum-sucking trolls.”

In the searchlights, the crowd of figures passed through the barriers and into the tents. Several converged on the militia’s flyer and attacked the entrance panel. Others raised rifles and pointed at their flyer. Lochan’s laugh was harsh. “Go ahead. Waste fireburst.”

As if he were heard, no one fired. Nor did they follow. Lochan muttered and the flyer continued to roll backward. Lochan said, “Put on your headgear and hand me mine.”

Too stunned to question, Adele did as ordered, securing hers in time to hear Lochan say, “Campsite under attack. At least a dozen with fireburst rifles. Both militia dead.”

Bran’s voice answered. “What of the militia flyer?”

“The attackers are attempting to gain access.”

“Disable it and return to the Nightingale.”

“I am too close. The cannon could take out some of the containers.”

“Lochan—”

“Lifting off.” With those words, the flyer veered to the east and gained speed. It turned south. “Circling to attack from the container field. Collateral damage will be in the grass.”

The flyer lights highlighted the containers and then the Serengeti flyer came into view. Adele could see figures tossing objects into one of the tents. “I think they are stealing our supplies. Using a tent as a makeshift cargo carrier.”

“Preparing to fire.”

They were not more than twenty feet above the camp, passing over the eastern edge of the container field. Fireburst shot from the cannon and then they were over the grasslands. The sound of a hundred thunderclaps filled the air followed by a crash, and the flyer shuddered.

“Demon spit!” Lochan worked with the controls, the flyer trembling. “Exploded the flyer. Hit by debris. Hull damaged and propulsion. We will not escape the atmosphere. Heading for the mountains.”