As my palms touch the surface briefly, a shudder runs through me. Then another explosion, and I’m hurled backward, slamming into someone behind me. It’s High Priestess Rain, and she appears unhurt. I start to turn but then look back, stopping and staring. The heptosphere is no longer translucent black.
Instead, it’s lit up inside with multicolored rings spinning like a gyroscope that can’t find its orientation. Was it damaged in the explosion?
I’m spellbound, the colors filling my mind so I can’t drag my gaze away. Then another scream rends the air, and I’m back in motion, racing toward the injured.
I drop to the ground beside Ambassador Terra. She’s silently weeping, her hands fisted at her stomach, blood oozing between her fingers and turning her green dress brown. Her blond hair has come loose from its bun, and terror fills her large eyes.
“It’s okay,” I tell her as I reach down and rip off a large piece of my tattered ceremonial cloak. “Let me help you.” I fold it several times, then gently move her hands. I go still, despair filling me—the wound is deep and jagged, way beyond my skills—but I try not to let that show as I firmly press the material against her stomach.
A tremor runs through her, and her spine arches. She cries out, a garbled sound of agony, and I glance around for help, for a medic, for something, but find only Dr. Veragelen standing there, seemingly uninjured, staring at me with a look in her black eyes that chills me to the bone.
What the hell is going on inside that brilliant head of hers? Whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it, so I look away.
Lara drops to her knees beside me as yet another explosion rocks the laboratory and sends me tumbling forward. I catch myself.
“Are you all right?” she demands. Her voice is raspy, as if she’s been knocked breathless, though I don’t see any visible wounds.
“None of this is all right,” I answer. Ambassador Terra moans again, and I touch her cheek, trying to comfort her. She stares up at me with the knowledge of her own death in her eyes.
“I meant—”
“I’m fine.” I cut Lara off abruptly, because if I think about how I really am right now, I’ll fall apart.
Ambassador Terra exhales long and low. And then…nothing.
“Goddamn it, no!” I curl my hand into a fist and punch her chest, trying to remember my never-before-used CPR lessons.
Lara tugs at me, yelling something in my ear, but I fight her off and continue the CPR.
“She’s dead, Kali, and we have to get out of here or we’ll be dead, too.”
“We can’t just leave her like—”
“We’ve no choice. She’s beyond care. And we’ve got to get you somewhere safe.”
New explosions shake the ship until she’s shuddering and buckling all around us. I put my hands over my head as debris crashes to the floor, narrowly missing us. Lara throws herself over me so hard and fast that it knocks the wind out of me. Then she’s up and dragging me to my feet—protocols forgotten. With one last look at the dead ambassador, I allow her to pull me toward the wide double doors. For a second, the lights go out and the room is lit by the whirling illumination inside the heptosphere, a disorienting kaleidoscope of color. I stumble over another body, but they’re not moving.
Then the lights flash on again and we’re out the door.
I glance back and spot Arik racing toward us. “Princess Kalinda!” he shouts just as an automated voice calls over the ship’s internal communication system.
“Decontamination system activated. You have ten seconds to vacate area 27.”
I have no clue what that involves, but it doesn’t sound good. “Hurry,” I yell.
Arik is almost up to us as loud sirens blare and a metal bulkhead slams down between us, cutting me off from Arik and the others still inside the lab.
“No!” I thump on the metal, desperate not to leave all those people behind. But Lara is pulling me again, and I can’t fight her. Not when I can’t even breathe.
My lungs hurt. I’m guessing the decontamination system is sucking up all the oxygen, leaving us gasping for breath.
I grab her hand and search frantically for a way out. But we’re on a fucking space station—where could we even go?
I don’t want to think about what’s happening inside the lab. But at least others got out as well. I spot Ambassador Holdren, High Priestess Rain, and Secondary Delegate Merrick. Around us, people are crashing to their knees. My own breathing is growing even more labored, and I know I don’t have long. I need to find the control panel and switch off the decontamination system, but I don’t know how. We need to evacuate.
If we make it to the docking bay, hopefully we can take off on one of the shuttles. I look around through the swirling gray smoke. Which way? I have no idea, but to the right, the corridor is blocked by a security door, so I pull Lara with me and head left.
Out of nowhere, a hand grabs my elbow and I’m being propelled along the corridor. I have one second to register that someone is actually touching me before it also registers that I’m being pulled in a direction I don’t want to go.
I whirl around, prepared to fight. Then freeze when I realize just who was brave enough to risk a death penalty and put his hand on me.
Chapter 7
Ian
The princess is staring at the spot where my hand touches her bare arm like I’m committing some sort of sacrilege.
Maybe I am.
How the hell would I know? Fucking etiquette lessons weren’t on the agenda where I grew up.
“You,” she wheezes, and the way she says it doesn’t sound complimentary.
I should just let her go. This is wasting time I don’t have.
The princess can look after herself. She was probably trained from birth in the art of self-preservation. And I have to get to the docking bay anyway—if there’s even a docking bay left after whatever the fuck just happened. If that was Max’s idea of a diversion, we’ll be having words later.
As for the princess—she’s a problem I don’t need right now. I tell myself to let her go, but somehow, I can’t seem to do that. In fact, my grip tightens.
It’s just another bad decision in the string of bad decisions I’ve been making today. I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile. So what was I doing in there, warning her away from that damn weird sphere that Dr. Wicked is so obsessed with?
I don’t have a fucking clue, and Max wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, either. All I know is I didn’t want her touching it. I’ve heard rumors of people—prisoners—burned to a crisp by that thing, but still, I acted without thinking. Never a good idea, but especially not today.
Yet here I am again. Going on instinct instead of thinking shit through.
I try to tell myself that it’s because she might come in handy as a hostage or something, but the fact is my brain isn’t functioning right now. Probably due to lack of oxygen. The edges of my vision are blurring, which seems to prove my point. We have to get out of here like, yesterday.
I drag the princess toward the security door, but she’s fighting me every step of the way, punching and kicking.
“Quit with the goddamn wriggling,” I snarl just as someone leaps on my back and starts thumping me on the head. “What the hell? Get the fuck off me.”