I guess they think some sort of miracle is going to happen. Unfortunately, the rest of us—the Empress included—just want to stop us from going up in smoke.
As kind as this high priestess seems, right now, we don’t need faith. We need science.
I glance at Rain, expecting to see the same anger on her face that’s on her escort’s. But she just looks curious, her gaze fixed on the heptosphere as though she wants to touch it as much as I do.
“Can we touch it?” I ask. Why not?
But as I move closer, Dr. Veragelen’s guard—he of the tight ass and razor-sharp jaw—steps forward, blocking my way. And he’s big enough to stop me in my tracks. I can almost feel Arik and Vance bristling behind me. Even Lara tenses up, like she’s ready to throw herself between the hottie and me.
I raise my hand to hold them off and turn my focus to the guard. It’s pretty rare for someone to challenge a member of the Ruling Families, and on the odd occasions it has happened, the person usually trips over themselves as they backpedal from their mistake.
This guy isn’t backpedaling, though. Nope. Instead, he’s standing his ground, his dark-brown eyes staring into mine with an insolence that feels very much like a challenge.
That insolence is unwarranted—I’m sure we’ve never met. I don’t remember ever seeing him on Askkandia, and he’s definitely someone I would remember. After all, it’s pretty hard to forget the most striking guy I’ve ever seen—especially when he clearly has the personality of a rabid drokaray.
Maybe he didn’t like me ogling him earlier.
“Step back,” Arik orders in a voice that brooks no disagreement.
The guy doesn’t budge, though he does cock his head in a way that almost seems like he’s listening to some music only he can hear. And while there’s a part of me that wants nothing more than to stand here trading glares with him, I’m painfully aware that we’re drawing a lot of attention right now. Attention that should be on Dr. Veragelen and the heptosphere and not on a pissing contest between some guard and me.
So I step back instead, ignoring the triumph that briefly flares in the depths of his eyes. I have better things to worry about than some arrogant jerk on a power trip. The fate of our world—our entire solar system—hangs in the balance.
“Of course you can touch it,” Dr. Veragelen tells me as I turn back toward her. She shoots the guard an annoyed look, which he returns with an expression so bland it has to be manufactured. “I apologize if there was ever any doubt about that. Private Ian, like the rest of us, is just very protective of the heptosphere.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her, because it is. Scientific discovery—especially of the magnitude she’s attempting—is way more important than indulging my curiosity. To prove it, I deliberately stick my hands in my cloak’s pockets as I resume walking around the sphere. “I’m good with just looking.”
She still seems concerned. “No, really. It’s more than okay if you want to touch it. It’s an interesting experience.” She turns to the rest of the delegates. “In fact, any of you can feel free to touch the sphere while you’re here. It’s made of a very unusual material, and, as far as we can tell, it’s impervious to damage.”
She barely finishes her sentence before there’s a mad rush for the sphere. Everyone is reaching out a hand to touch it and exclaiming about how strange it feels. Cool, hot. Smooth, bumpy. Substantial, intangible. Everyone seems to experience something different, and now I want to touch it more than ever, just to see what it feels like to me.
But a glance back at Private Ian only strengthens my resolve not to show how interested I am. He’s watching me with an expression that reminds me of my mother’s when she’s just waiting for me to mess something up so she can jump down my throat.
I’m not about to give him the satisfaction—any more than I give it to her these days.
I don’t have a clue who pissed in this guy’s Moon Mallows or why he’s decided to take it out on me, but he has. And that annoys me enough that I return his glare with interest before deliberately walking one hundred and eighty degrees around the heptosphere so that I don’t have to put up with him watching every move I make.
Of course, I can’t get near the thing, considering how many members of the delegation are currently crowded around it. I could force my way in—princess trumps ambassador any day—but that’s not the kind of ruler I want to be.
So instead of focusing on the heptosphere like the others, I turn toward the console that runs along the wall behind me. It appears different from the other computer equipment in the lab, and I’m guessing it must be some sort of control panel to correlate all the information about the sphere. The board is elaborate and complicated, and I can’t help but feel a small thrill. I’m actually in a room with something that was made by an ancient race so many years ago that their history is more hypothesis than fact.
I can’t even begin to guess what all the various controls do, but presumably Dr. Veragelen must have some idea by now, considering she’s been working with this thing for nearly five years, or perhaps longer, if study began before completion of the Caelestis.
Above the board is a mass of screens. There are dozens of them—some small, some big, some giant—and all of them receiving a constant influx of information, judging by the rate data are scrolling across the screens.
Are these real-time results from the lab techs who are taking readings from the heptosphere? Just the thought of being able to pull this much information from an ancient artifact is fascinating.
I lean closer to investigate just as a rumble fills the air and a powerful tremor runs through the ship. The disruption is followed by a moment of absolute silence, right before an explosion rips through the laboratory.
I have one moment to think, What the fuck? and then I’m flying backward.
Pain courses through me as I crash into something hard. Then everything goes black.
Chapter 6
Kali
What the fuck just happened?
I’m lying on my side, and a wave of heat sears my cheek. A crackle fills my ears. Not good.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I blink my eyes open to chaos.
The air is thick with smoke, screams fill the room, and for a moment the world makes no sense. I shake my head and push myself up. I must have hit something.
At least I’m alive, but for how long? The screen I’d been staring at is on fire, and I scoot backward.
Was it an assassination attempt? I swallow as I think of my father, then push the thought away.
More likely, it was someone after the heptosphere, though if that’s the case, why risk blowing it up? Unless that was the purpose. If so, it failed. The sphere is still floating gently in the center of the room while the ceiling falls around it. Beyond that, I can see what I presume is the outer hull of the space station. At least it’s still intact—otherwise, we’d all be space debris.
The lab is filled with the screams and moans of the injured and dying, and my stomach churns.
Get a grip.
I need to help.
But as I scramble to my feet, another explosion rocks the ship and sends me careening into the heptosphere.