But that doesn’t mean Dr. Veragelen didn’t take things into her own hands. Maybe she did something to Beckett that did more than scar her skin. Maybe she damaged her mind. Which means I can’t just presume she’s a bad person thinking horrible thoughts about me. Maybe she’s just…broken. If that’s the case, I have to at least try to be kind to her.
I smile back, trying to think of something to say. But she meets my smile with a look of total and complete contempt before deliberately turning her back on me. I start to get angry, but then I see the writing on the back of Beckett’s jumpsuit. Prisoner 826.
Maybe her contempt is justified.
I shift my gaze to where Max has just stood up from the seat beside me. He’s still in his guard’s uniform, but I’m doubling down on my previous impression that neither he nor Ian are actually guards. Now that I can think a little clearer, it’s obvious they were only on the Caelestis to track down this Milla person.
Part of me wonders if they blew up the Caelestis to hide their escape on the prison ship. If so, they messed up, as the Reformer was destroyed as well…which makes them incompetent as well as armed, dangerous liars. Though it’s hard to think of Max that way when he glances up and gives me a grin and a very mischievous wink—one I internally fight not to return.
Despite everything I’m figuring out, I can’t help liking him.
Also out of his seat now, Gage is fiddling with one of the control panels on the back wall. Of everyone on the ship, he seems the nicest and the most uncomplicated. Then again, I gather he’s been working with Max and Ian all along, so maybe he’s not as uncomplicated as he seems.
On the other side of the triangular bridge are Rain and Merrick, their heads close together. I really like Rain, but Merrick I’m not so sure of—despite the fact that he reminds me of my dad. There’s a reserve to him that makes me suspect we’ve yet to see the real man. Despite pledging his life to the Sisterhood, he moves like a fighter, and he looks a little bit older than the rest of us—maybe in his mid-twenties.
But, while I like Rain, they’re still officials of the Sisterhood, which means their agenda—worshipping the Dying Sun, even hastening its demise—will always be in opposition to the rest of ours—to save it by any means possible. So can any of us truly trust them? Rain is the most unlikely ambassador I have ever come across—and I know what politicians are like—so did the Sisterhood somehow learn about the heptosphere and Dr. Veragelen’s work and decide to destroy it? They nearly died themselves, but martyrs are hardly unheard of in religious organizations.
And then there’s Ian—I’ve saved the worst and most obnoxious for last. Right now, his long, lean body is sprawled in the captain’s seat, even though he’s given up all pretense that he’s actually flying this piece of junk. His eyes are half closed, and he has a brooding look on his handsome face that makes me wonder what he’s thinking about. Milla, maybe? Or how catastrophically wrong his plan has gone? Does he feel responsible for what happened to the Caelestis and the mess we’re currently in?
I have to remind myself that he did in fact save my life—I think I would have passed out if he hadn’t gotten me out of the decontamination zone when he did. Then I also remind myself that he likely had an ulterior motive. That he was just thinking of his getaway and how he could use me as a hostage.
Truth be told, it seems like just about everyone on this ship could have had a reason to blow up the Caelestis. Which means I need to keep my wits about me. I need to get the rest of us somewhere safe. And I’m the only one with the plan to do so.
I glance around at the others and decide it’s time to inform the rest of them of my plan. And more than time to prove what a formidable leader I can be. Because if the person who blew up the Caelestis is on this ship, I’m not going to let them get away with it.
Chapter 11
Ian
I can feel the princess’s eyes on me again, but I don’t bother to look. There’s nothing there but trouble, and I’ve got more than enough of that in my life right now.
Yeah, we escaped the fiery pit of doom that was the Caelestis, but the Reformer is going down with it. And with it our best—and possibly last—chance to find Milla.
My hand curls into a fist of its own volition, and I force myself to uncurl my fingers one by one. It’s hard, though, when all I want to do is punch something. We were so fucking close, right fucking there. Right up until the princess showed up and everything went straight to shit.
Maybe it’s unfair of me to blame her for this disaster, but I don’t give a fuck. Those explosions weren’t accidents—they were murder attempts at worst, sabotage at best. And while there were a lot of diplomats on board the Caelestis, common sense tells me all that force was meant for the pretty, pretty princess over there.
Having spent the better half of the last hour with her myself, I can’t say I blame whoever tried to blow her up. I just wish to shit they’d done it after Max and I made it onto that prison ship and got the hell out of there. If they had, we might be halfway to Milla by now instead of flying this piece of shit to who the fuck knows where and hoping we don’t die.
It’s a clusterfuck, all right, and one I’m more than happy to lay at the princess’s door.
Even before she jumps to her feet and claps her hands. Not surprisingly, nobody takes the slightest bit of notice of her except me. I’m not about to give her the satisfaction of knowing I’m looking at her, but I do turn my head a little so I can watch her out of half-closed eyes. And I’ve got to say, at least in the looks department, she’s a far cry from the all-decked-out ambassadors who came aboard the Caelestis a couple hours ago.
She looks bedraggled, for lack of a better word, in her cut-off dress and bare feet. Strands of all that dark-red hair of hers have come loose from the elaborate style she started the visit with, and her makeup has long since worn off. Plus, she’s got a streak of grime running down her left cheek that would be laughable on anyone else.
But strangely, despite the mess, she still looks like a princess. There’s an innate sense of…confidence about her that no amount of dishevelment can hide, like she just has to open that lush little mouth and we’ll all fall to our knees and follow whatever commands she issues.
Fuck that.
It’s going to be amusing to watch her try, though.
Sure enough, a frown flickers across her face when no one so much as looks at her, but it’s quickly replaced by a smile. Like a mask has fallen over her features—which immediately ups my already high level of suspicion. Experience has taught me that people who can hide their emotions like that usually have a lot more to hide, none of it good. Plus, it’s just really fucking creepy.
“Excuse me, everyone,” she says in that cut-glass accent of hers. “Could I have your attention for a moment, please?”
Still not much of a response.
Max and Gage are talking about something—their voices are low, so I can’t hear what they’re saying, but judging by the look on Max’s face, it’s about Milla. I get that he’s worried about her—I’m going out of my fucking mind trying to figure out what to do now—but I’m not thrilled with the fact that he’s confiding in Gage. We may still need him to find Milla, but we can’t trust the guy. He’s the most mercenary person I’ve ever come across, and I’ve come across a few. He betrayed his own people to us for a payout—and not even a big one. While it was useful for us, my motto is if he’ll betray one person, there’s a good chance he’d betray a lot of others. Hell, right now, he’s probably working out exactly how he can make a few more planeta credits out of this whole fuck-up.