Daniel Coldstar #2 Read online

  “Can’t you pilot it remotely?”

  Ben scoffed. “Where’s the fun in that—?” His eyes widened. “Oh, blimey . . .”

  Ben’s holocule image shattered for good this time, followed by an enormous flash of light erupting over the horizon.

  Panicked, Daniel opened a channel. “Ben! Can you hear me? Ben?!”

  Nothing.

  He snatched his trinoculars up from his belt. They were an old set, but they did the job. Three sensor rods automatically eased out, triangulating on each target to give super-accurate distance readings.

  Exactly 123 miles and 18.4 paces away, he watched the war erupt over the capital city. Oota Mheenish lava cannons opened fire on approaching craft. Superheated rock dust flashed through the air, looking like energy weapon bursts except that when these blasts made contact they stuck like glue and burned through their targets.

  Shoom! Shoom! Shoom!

  Defensive fighters raced to engage the Tarafand amid a cloud of—was that a flock of birds?

  Daniel zoomed in.

  No. Tiny flashes sparked down their backs. These were Thunderheads—airborne troops wearing rocket packs.

  Daniel felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh no.” He tried the channel again. “Ben? Can you hear me? Ben, come in.”

  No answer.

  “I lost Ben!” Daniel yelled back down to Ionica, who was still rounding the kids up for the evacuation. Seeing them all, Daniel wondered if a single cargo pod was going to be enough.

  “Try someone else!” Ionica hollered back.

  “I’m worried about Ben!”

  “Worry about them!” she shot back, gesturing at the kids.

  He glanced down into the ship. Nearly a hundred sets of tiny eyes peered back at him. The frightened children said nothing, but then they didn’t need to.

  Daniel hesitated, but he had no choice. He had to activate the emergency channel. Even if he was going to get an earful from Guardian Raze Alioth when he found out what was going on.

  Oh well. It was going to happen sooner or later anyway.

  He hammered the emergency channel. “This is Beacon Daniel Coldstar to anyone who can hear us—we need immediate evacuation. I repeat, immediate evacuation. Beacon Lux and I have found about a hundred refugees. All children—”

  Overhead, a Tarafand troopship suddenly changed direction, circling back toward the wreck of the Coldstar.

  It had picked up his signal.

  Hatches in the ship’s gleaming underbelly snapped open and Thunderheads started pouring out, boosters ablaze. They landed in the forest, not too far off.

  The bottom fell out of Daniel’s stomach. How the heck were he and Ionica, a couple of apprentice Truth Seekers, supposed to take on an entire squad of well-armed, stone-cold, battle-hardened Thunderheads?

  His voice warbled. “There are enemy troops on the ground! I repeat, Tarafand troops are heading this way!”

  A tone squealed down the channel, followed by a gruff voice. “This is Guardian Alioth. We have received your distress call and have your position. We’ll talk about why you’re out there later.”

  Busted.

  “Yes, sir,” Daniel replied, trying to keep his voice flat. “I understand.”

  “Good, because I don’t. Truth Seekers, I need a volunteer—”

  “Already on it,” a voice cut in from out of nowhere. “On final approach now.”

  “Ben! You’re okay!” Daniel cried.

  “Of course I’m okay.”

  Relieved, Daniel craned his neck, trying to figure out which direction Ben was coming from. There! To the south, gliding out from behind a line of jagged foothills, a bulky cargo pod approaching at the speed of a glacier.

  “All Truth Seekers,” Alioth continued, sounding grim, “the Sinja have masterfully infected these two societies with so many falsehoods that the people can no longer distinguish truth from fiction. Sinja influence has convinced both sides that we are the enemy. It is therefore no longer viable for us to remain. We knew this would be a risk, but we had to try.

  “We are now commencing a total evacuation of all Truth Seekers from this planet. Anyone not aboard their vessels within the hour will be left behind. The refugees are our priority. Godspeed, everyone.”

  A knot tightened in Daniel’s stomach. This was his fault. This was all his fault. The moment he let the Book of Planets fall into the hands of the Sinja, he had betrayed the entire galaxy, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

  THRUMMMMMMMM!

  The cumbersome cargo pod hovered above the wreck, its load thrusters growling. Slowly, it eased down onto the rusting hull, massive load-bearing landing gear splaying out like feet.

  With a hiss the back end popped open, a grimy loading ramp eased out, and Ben barreled outside. “Come on, we haven’t got all day! Where are they?”

  Whompff!

  Ionica directed an Aegis blast at the ground and flew up out of the dome with two of the smaller kids, one under each arm. They landed softly at the foot of the ramp. “Do we have any rope?”

  Ben raced to the grubby loading controls mounted on the bulkhead by the entrance. “I know what we can use.”

  Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk!

  Greasy hatches sprang open down the center of the cargo pod’s loading deck, revealing spooled cargo nets. Daniel grabbed one by its pair of tritanium hooks and jumped back down into the bridge, unraveling the net as he went.

  “Watch your toesies!” Ionica urged, jumping down with him. The kids scattered.

  Daniel handed her one of the hooks. “Here,” he said. “Do something useful.”

  Ionica narrowed her eyes. “Me do something useful?”

  “Uh, guys?” Ben called out. “I see soldiers. They’re carrying blasers. Hurry it up.”

  Blasers: handheld lava cannons. One good shot and the molten bullet would eat through anything.

  Daniel scratched about for whatever he could find. The grille over that air duct might work. He secured his end of the netting to that, while Ionica raced to the other side of the bridge and did the same thing, opening the full expanse out to create a makeshift ladder.

  “Go!”

  The children surged forward, scrambling up the netting, wiping away tears with filthy hands.

  Fzzt! Fzzt! Fzzt!

  Sizzling blaser fire ripped over their heads, burning the very air they breathed.

  “Go help Ben!” Daniel insisted. “I’ll make sure they get up there.”

  Ionica nodded, taking two more of the smaller kids with her. “Hold on tight,” she said, before zipping up into the air with a whompff!

  Daniel directed the next wave of terrified children to get climbing. As they scrambled over the lip of the breach and clambered onto the outside of the ship, an alarm blared from deep inside the cargo pod: “Warning! Load capacity exceeded. Warning! Load capacity exceeded.”

  “Ben!” Daniel yelled. “What does that mean?”

  “Hold on!” Ben hollered back.

  “We still have kids down here!”

  “I know! Give me a minute!”

  “We don’t have a minute!”

  Daniel clenched his teeth, trying to keep his cool. It didn’t help that this Tillowil kid and the last remaining handful of refugees were watching him while he pretended to hold it together. “It’ll be okay,” he said.

  They didn’t look like they believed him.

  Ionica peered down from the edge of the rupture overhead. She looked shaken. “We can’t take any more,” she said quietly. “Or the pod won’t fly.”

  Daniel didn’t have to look at the children to know that tears had started to spill down their cheeks. He lifted his chin. “We’re not leaving them here,” he said.

  “We’ll come back,” she promised.

  “There’s no time.”

  “Daniel,” she pleaded. “We’ll figure something out.”

  A hum, low and soothing, drifted over from the far corner of the bridge. Jasper! In all the acti
vity Daniel had forgotten all about the little anatom, still standing there clutching a backpack full of data cores.

  The penguin made a farting noise and waved a flipper in front of his beak.

  Of course! Maybe there was a way out of this after all.

  “Go,” Daniel said, shooing Ionica away. “Go. I’ll get them out with Alice.”

  “That’s too dangerous with all the Thunderheads around,” she said.

  “It’s better than being a sitting target,” Daniel replied.

  The remaining children watched, helpless, as Ionica cut the netting loose. It fell to the ground with a thud.

  They listened to the whine of lifting thrusters shifting into high power and watched as the cargo pod flew away.

  “This isn’t over,” Daniel said. “Come on. Follow me.”

  6

  THE LORONOH RUN

  Daniel improvised in a hurry.

  Alice had a Turan howdah, a combo riding and packsaddle, strapped to his broad back. Daniel dumped the supplies—they wouldn’t need them anyway if they were dead—but he kept the saddlebags. Two of the smaller kids could ride in those. That left figuring out how to get the other five onto a trabasaur and keep them there for the duration of their escape run.

  Daniel watched the jungle. Everything looked the same. Sounded the same. Stank the same. No sign of those Tarafand soldiers. Not yet, anyway. So why was his skin crawling?

  One by one, the kids emerged from the hole in the side of the Coldstar and scampered down the creepers anchored to its hull. They each hit the ground running and raced over to Daniel, ready to help.

  “What about this?” Tillowil suggested, dragging a filthy sheet of tough orange fabric behind him. He dumped it out in the open.

  Judging from the markings, this thing used to be part of an emergency shelter.

  Daniel yanked at both ends in an attempt to get it to rip. It held solid. “Yes,” he said quickly. “Everyone see what we can use for fastenings.”

  The kids scattered their finds on the ground and set to work while Daniel relieved Jasper of his very full backpack.

  The anatom dragged the orange sheeting toward Alice.

  “You think you can make this work?” Daniel asked.

  Jasper did not respond, instead concentrating on cutting the tough fabric into strips and fashioning them into continuous loops. When the first one was ready, the anatom held it out, gesturing for Daniel to toss it over Alice’s packsaddle and fasten it in the center. It was only when that was done that Daniel realized what Jasper had created. A loop of fabric now hung on either side of Alice, creating slings that the children could ride in.

  After a few more precious minutes, the other slings were ready and it was time to load up.

  Alice gave the first kid a curious glance, trying to figure out if he should trust him or not.

  Daniel fastened scavenged cables to the center of the packsaddle and quickly began tying them around the kids’ waists. “This is going to get bumpy,” he warned.

  He threw himself into the saddle and grabbed Alice’s reins. “Hang on!” he cried, and with the tap of his feet and a hearty “Yah!” he got the beast running.

  They charged into the jungle, bounding over fallen trunks and galloping through brackish water.

  “Faster!” Daniel urged, digging his heels in.

  Alice put his head down and lengthened his stride. The ground shook. The children hung on, bouncing around, ducking for cover every time a bough of black vegetation swiped at them.

  Daniel crouched lower, using every muscle he had to not get thrown right out of the saddle. Ahead, a clump of tangled trees blocked their way. In a flash, Daniel activated his Aegis—

  Whompff!

  A skillfully controlled wall of air crackled with electricity and rose up around the Hammertail, ripping leaves and twigs from their branches and hammering into the clump of trees in front of them. The trunks split and tore and were flung behind them with an almighty thwack!

  Plowing through, Alice barreled headlong into a gigantic trap-bloom. The massive leaves curled up instantly, sinking dagger-sized thorns into his hind leg. A long pink tendril shot up from its throat, wrapping itself around Alice’s thigh like a serpent’s tongue.

  The children screamed and kicked, but Alice was in no mood to be eaten today.

  The Hammertail ran, and with every ounce of his considerable strength, ripped the trap-bloom from the dirt, dragging its fleshy bag-like body along behind. The plant made a dreadful yelping sound when something pierced its translucent flesh, and out spilled stomach acid and undigested bits of unlucky forest dwellers.

  Without breaking stride, Alice flicked his leg, tossing the trap-bloom into the air, and whacked it with his spiky tail, shredding it to pieces.

  Daniel glanced back over his shoulder with a triumphant grimace, patting Alice on the back of the neck.

  When he turned back around, he realized that their situation had not improved.

  Shmm-Pew! Shmm-Pew! Shmm-Pew!

  Angry red blaser fire exploded out of the dense jungle foliage from every direction. Trees and creepers burst into flames, their burning leaves leaping into the air like demonic fireflies.

  The Tarafand had found them.

  7

  JARANJARS!

  Daniel tugged on the reins.

  Alice bucked to a stop, padding left and right, trying to figure out a way through, but there was nowhere to go.

  Tarafand Thunderheads, with their armored uniforms as dark as the jungle around them, crept from their hiding spots, blocking every exit they hadn’t set ablaze.

  One of the soldiers, with the red marking of a commander on his shoulder, raised a fist, ordering the squad to cease fire.

  “You’re a Truth Seeker,” the commander remarked.

  It was hard to know what the soldiers intended, since their faces were hidden behind helmets. Just in case they harbored any doubts about their star nation’s decision to turn on the Guild of Truth, Daniel dug deep for some courage.

  “Yes, I’m a Truth Seeker,” he said. “So you’ll let us pass if you know what’s good for you.” His hands shook. They had to know he was bluffing.

  The Tarafand commander took another ominous step toward him, not intimidated in the slightest. “Where are you taking those children?”

  They knew. Bluff called. Change the subject.

  “What are you doing on this planet?” Daniel fired back.

  “Those do not belong to you,” the commander persisted.

  Those? It sounded like he was talking about things, not people. “These children don’t belong to anyone,” Daniel said with disgust, his mouth dry. “They belong with their parents.”

  “They have no parents,” came the grim response.

  Everything about that statement revolted Daniel. “That’s a lie,” he said.

  “Where are the others?” the commander demanded.

  “What others?” Daniel said quickly, feigning ignorance. Why would an invading army know about a bunch of kids stashed away in the middle of nowhere? This wasn’t adding up.

  The Tarafand commander signaled one of his underlings. “Inform Vega Virrus that our gift to him has been compromised. Assure him that we will be sending our apology and to expect the head of a Truth Seeker instead.”

  So now they weren’t even trying to hide their allegiance to the Sinja.

  Daniel flung up an Aegis shield as fast as he could, prompting Alice to roar angrily.

  The Thunderheads opened fire, each glowing lava blast hitting the whirling vortex with a blam before rebounding off at an angle.

  Alice backed away, trying not to get his tail caught in the flames.

  There had to be a way out of this, there had to be!

  With the terrified kids screaming all around him, Daniel searched desperately for an escape route, but there wasn’t one. Even Jasper seemed to be out of ideas—when suddenly the firing stopped! In complete disarray, the Thunderheads ran around shrieking at each
other. The soldiers turned their attention to the leafy canopy and to the hanging vines that were silently wrapping themselves around their throats and dragging them up into the trees one by one.

  Roaaar-kha-kha . . . ! Roaaar-kha-kha . . . !

  The Tarafand commander fired blindly into the treetops, setting branch after branch ablaze until—

  Thud!

  A massive Jaranjar dropped down from the branches. Standing on two legs, it towered over the commander and was perhaps two or three times his size. Its face was like a big cat’s. Its tail, muscular and stretching for several body lengths, curled and quivered. Its apelike body shimmered with silver stripes sparkling like comets over its black velvet coat. It opened its mouth, and with huge serrated teeth gleaming white—it roared.

  Alice raged at the creature.

  The Jaranjar raged back, only to howl in agony as the fur across its back exploded in flames. The furious animal swung around, lashing out at the Tarafand commander, using its powerful tail to grab him and smash him into a tree trunk.

  “Now’s our chance!” Daniel cried, spurring Alice on. “Yah!”

  The Hammertail launched into a gallop, leaving the battle far, far behind.

  They plowed blindly through thick foliage for mile after mile without any thought to what was waiting for them, until the jungle began to thin. The skies overhead filled with starfighters. Streaks of energy and flashes of light burst between the clouds. Engines flamed out. Ships tumbled.

  None of it made a difference to Daniel, who urged Alice onward, never letting up, never letting him slow. An old track opened up a little farther on, leading to the jagged ruins of a bombed-out town. Shredded flags and propaganda urging all Oota Mheenish citizens to join the glorious war against the Tarafand hung limply in the rubble, omitting the fact that they weren’t exactly good guys either.

  “Equinox? Come in, Equinox!” Daniel pleaded over an open channel, desperately checking his map.

  Thirty miles? They’d only gone thirty miles? They were never going to make it in time!

  “Equinox!”

  Why wasn’t anybody answering? Had they left already?