Avalon
Page 24“What are you doing, Liz?”
There was a loud bang, followed by the sound of Lizzie groaning. She scooted out from underneath the station and scowled up at him, one hand rubbing her forehead. “Crap, Jeth. You made me jump and hit my head.”
Jeth pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. It wasn’t funny, really, and yet it still was. “What are you doing under there?”
Lizzie rolled her eyes, but before she could answer Jeth heard a meow.
He gritted his teeth. “Please don’t tell me there’s a cat stuck inside the life support control panel. You know, the thing that makes sure the air we’re breathing doesn’t turn poisonous and kill us in our sleep?”
“He’s not stuck, just playing hard to get. I think.” She scooted back under the station—probably to avoid Jeth’s glower.
A couple of seconds later and after much scratching, meowing, and cursing, Lizzie reemerged with a struggling Viggo in her arms. She set the cat down and it raced off. No doubt to cause havoc somewhere else.
Jeth sighed as he sat on the nearest chair then stared down at his sister. “So why are you up so early?” He didn’t think she was on the bridge merely to rescue the stupid cat.
“Oh, I, um . . .” Lizzie bit her lip and got to her feet. “I couldn’t sleep. I was wandering the ship and heard Viggo crawling around up here.”
Jeth huffed, refraining from saying anything more about the cat, not when he sensed that his sister was distraught over something. “I couldn’t sleep much either.”
Jeth could tell she had something on her mind, and so he waited, leaning back in the chair. He knew not to press.
“There’s, uh, something I’ve been wanting to tell you. . . .”
When she didn’t go on, Jeth said, “What is it, Liz?”
“I found something in my cabin a few days ago. It’s—”
She broke off as Avalon’s proximity alarm started to blare. Jeth jumped out of his seat, his heart heading into overdrive. He turned to the front window and froze at the sight of a spaceship only a few meters off, so close it nearly swallowed the entire view.
“What the hell?” He dashed toward the pilot’s chair, switched off the ship’s anchoring system, and then pulled back on the control column. The ship lurched hard enough that Lizzie stumbled, half-falling into the comm station chair. She turned off the proximity alarm as Jeth steered them a safe distance away.
By now, the rest of the crew was piling into the bridge, all of them in various stages of disarray.
“Woah, where did that come from?” said Shady. He had one boot on and the other hanging from his hand.
Wonderment filled Lizzie’s voice. “It just appeared. One second, empty space.” She snapped her fingers. “Next second, that.”
“Is it the one we’re looking for?” asked Shady.
“I don’t know,” Jeth said. It looked like other Marlins he’d seen, but he didn’t know for sure. “Let’s find out.”
“Already on it,” Celeste said from the copilot’s chair.
Flynn approached the window and pointed out. “Look at that hole.”
Jeth turned his attention the direction Flynn indicated. A large hole marred the ship’s lower bow. It wasn’t the kind of hole you’d expect on a ship that’s been in a firefight or suffered a collision. It wasn’t a ragged, chaotic shape but perfectly symmetrical, like it had been carved with a giant hole punch. The sight of it sent ripples of dread skidding over Jeth’s skin. What had made it? He crossed his arms to keep from shivering.
“It’s the Donerail,” said Celeste, her voice tense. Jeth turned his gaze toward her, bracing for whatever she was about to say next.
“And according to the scan, there are three life signs on board.”
Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed. The ship had been missing for two months, Hammer had said. Well beyond its food and water capacity. It was adrift, dark, and forlorn.
But not dead.
“HOW’S ANYBODY STILL ALIVE ON THAT THING AFTER ALL this time?” said Shady.
“Got to be some mistake in the scan,” said Flynn, his pointed face pinched with worry.
“No, it’s not,” said Lizzie. Her fingers moved over the control panel in front of her as she examined the results. “The ship still has twelve percent power. Looks like nav and comms are offline, but life support is at seven percent. The gravity drive is fully functioning and cabin pressure is normal.”
Jeth exhaled at this news. Normal cabin pressure meant that whenever that hole had been made, the Donerail had had enough power to lock down the bulkheads surrounding the affected area and maintain hull integrity. If any of the crew or passengers had been near that area when the hole was made they would’ve been blown out to space, but the people elsewhere would’ve been fine.
“With reads that consistent, the scan must be accurate,” Lizzie concluded.
Three people still alive. Jeth cleared his throat. “Hammer’s intel must’ve been wrong.”
“So, what do we do next?” said Milton.