Kristine Rusch - City of Ruins

If it’s that familiar at all.

“Where are you?” Al-Nasir says, putting a hand to his ear. I glance over at him.

His gaze meets mine. He looks terrified.

“Who are you talking to?” I ask.

“Mikk,” he says.

I curse. Behind me, I can hear the lieutenant attempting to translate. I don’t give a damn. Instead, I set the cart to hover right here, over just a road and bare patch of ground, and I tune in. I hear Mikk’s voice saying, “… locked down. I’m not sure what we can do.”

“Mikk,” I say. “How many are with you?”

“Four,” he says. “Boss, we’re in deep trouble here. I can see the spaceport from here, and there are a lot of official vehicles. Several passed us as we came over the rise. We’re trapped.”

I curse. “Can you get out of the area?”

“I think so,” Mikk says. “No one seems to have noticed us yet.”

“Keep it that way. Come to the caves. I’ll see what I can do. Let me know if there’s trouble.”

“Oh, there’s trouble,” Mikk says. “I’ll let you know if it gets worse.”

He signs off.

I whip the hovercart around and head back to the cave opening.

“What’s going on?” the captain asks. The lieutenant translates, but it’s not necessary. It’s pretty clear what he asked even before he asked it.

“Just like I told you,” I say. “We’re in trouble now. The guides let the authorities know about your little invasion force and now the rest of my team can’t get off-planet.”

“They had two hours,” the lieutenant says before she translates for the captain.

“Yes, they did,” I snap. “And clearly that wasn’t enough time.”

“What will happen to them?” she asks.

“Arrest, a trial for treason within the Empire, probably. And then the Empire will know about you, your ship, the underground room, and the fact that there are now what—five hundred?—people somewhere in the area who not only know how to operate stealth tech, but can repair and build it.” I curse again.

She translates. We reach the top of the rise. Al-Nasir is holding onto the front of the cart for balance, which means my driving is a little shaky, not that I care.

We land near the other hovercarts.

I turn in my seat and lean toward the captain. To his credit, he doesn’t lean back, and most people do when I get angry at them.

And he knows I’m angry.

“You can get out here,” I say. “If you want to be suicidal enough to go into that city, be my guest. But you’re going without me and Fahd. If you want to learn the history of the area without going in, talk to the damn guides. They’re trained in Vaycehnese history. They’ll be able to tell you more than I can.”

The lieutenant simultaneously translates, but neither of them move to get out of the vehicle.

“Get out,” I say.

“What are you going to do?” he asks through her.

“I have no idea,” I say. “I’m hoping they make it up here. Then I’m going to see if we have enough time to get a skip down from the Business —that’s my ship in orbit—to load up the group before the authorities get here. Otherwise, we’re all in trouble. Unless you want to have an old-fashioned shootout like the Fleet of legend, protecting the underdog.”

I say that sarcastically, but I’m half hoping he’ll say yes. It’s our only hope. We need their military might to protect my people long enough for one of my ships to get down here.

His frown grows. “Why can’t they just come with us to the ship?”

I roll my eyes. These people really don’t know the trouble they’ve caused, do they? And somehow I’m elected to tell them.

“Because it will kill them. They don’t have the genetic marker. They can’t go into a stealth-tech field without dying.”

He stares at me as the lieutenant translates.

And then he smiles just a little and shakes his head.

“No,” he says in my language. “No.”

Then he talks rapidly, and I don’t understand a word until the lieutenant translates.

“It’s fine,” she says for him. “Anyone can go in and out of what you call a stealth-tech field—”

“Not anymore,” I say before she finishes her translation. “Something has gone horribly wrong.”

“No,” she says. “If what you say about stealth tech is true, then no one we meet in our travels could go in our ships or onto our bases. We could not interact with the populations we meet, and that’s not true at all. What you call stealth tech is only deadly when it malfunctions. The genetic marker that you discovered only functions in that circumstance. It allows us to repair our own field—and to survive in it, should something go wrong.”

I pause, struggling to understand. “You think my people will survive going into your ship?”

“We’re fixing the… drive now,” she says, using a word I don’t know and don’t understand. “Ours is repaired. You watched us work on the one in the room. As Captain Cooper said, it is an easy fix. It should be done when we get back.”

“Should be,” I say. “If not, five of my people will die.”

He speaks. She translates: “They could die anyway. If the authorities shoot first trying to capture them. I take it you do not know what these Vaycehnese will do now that we’re here.”

“That’s right,” I say.

“Waiting for your skip, which might not make it to the planet, is not an option. We will help you.”

“You will attack people you’ve just met?” I ask him.

His gaze meets mine. “We will rescue people who have done nothing more than help us.”

I study him. He seems determined.

Either way, I risk losing five people. If we wait for the skip, all of us could end up in prison and tried for treason.

If we go with this captain, then five of my people could die.

I don’t feel like I can make the decision for them, and yet I’m the only one who can make the decision.

Besides, the Vaycehnese might attack my skip. Maybe more than five people will die.

“I hope to God this works,” I say to the captain.

“It will,” he says. “Believe me. It will.”

The captain climbs out of my cart, along with the lieutenant. As he does, he snaps his fingers and gives orders in a voice I never want to hear directed at me.

Suddenly six other people join us. The captain gives instructions, and Al-Nasir translates for me before the lieutenant can.

“He wants them in the other hovercarts,” Al-Nasir says. “He says two people per cart, one driving and one with a weapon, would be best.”

A weapon. I frown at the captain. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I almost protest, but then I don’t. It’s better to be prepared. How many times have I told my people that?

“You get in another cart,” I say to Al-Nasir.

“But you need me,” he repeats.

“I can talk to Mikk just as easily as you can,” I say. “If something happens to me, you can lead the others to our group. Get them off this damn planet, okay?”

He nods, then scrambles into a different cart. The captain watches, catches my gaze, and nods at me. He approves.

A woman gets in beside me. She’s one of the people the captain has sent ahead. He clearly trusts her. She taps her chest. “Rossetti,” she says.

“Boss,” I say.

She nods, but doesn’t repeat my name any more than I repeat hers. She pulls out that small laser pistol and holds it. I glance behind me. Two people per cart, just like the captain ordered—one in the driver’s seat, the other holding a weapon just like she is.

Al-Nasir is driving, just like I am. I don’t know if he’s ever driven a cart. That should be interesting. But I am not going to watch.