Inherit the Stars (31 page)

“Now I'll plumb—”

The pirate's head atomized in a cloud of blood and faceplate shards. Jandeel knelt nearby, holding one of the fallen pirates' pistols.

Her own faceplate cracked, Bredine unlocked her helmet and tossed it aside. Jandeel grasped her wounded left arm and steadied her against him. Seven Thede captives raced from a corner and attacked any pirate still living. Two they stabbed to death, but one morphed right through the floor. The mildew stink thickened. Patches of olive liquid lay on the floor where the pirate had been.

“By the Solars,” Jandeel breathed. For the first time, Sar recognized fear in Bredine's eyes.

What the hell were these pirates now?

Sar clambered up and wiped his face. A Dirr woman applied a cold pack to his left cheek. “Stars wink and glow! They found us in here, and—” She sobbed. “We tried to fight them, but they were too strong.”

Jandeel stared at the other Thedes as Bredine wiped sweat from his brow. “We should have stayed together. This shouldn't have happened.” He kicked a dead pirate's body.

A Tannocci man, his temple bleeding, hung his head. “We have hidden too long. We thought that with the Narbas line reborn . . .”

Bredine seemed more concerned with Jandeel's state
than her own, though she was trembling from exhaustion and her wound. Sar wondered how dangerous the woman would be if nourished and healed.

Sar allowed the Dirr woman to pick faceplate shards from his forehead. “Stars fade, but you are right, Jandeel. Even though the stars turn black, you are right.”

After gently stopping Bredine's ministrations, Jandeel bound her arm with medical tape supplied by the others. “Sar, we still have to find Kivita. I'll come with you.”

Wincing, Bredine studied Jandeel. “You can't go. Kivita is sending. I feel her. Hmm. Redryll?”

Sar took a sword and pistol from the bloody floor. “Sending? You mean you can sense her? Then she's right, Jandeel. Get
Frevyx
ready. If I don't return with Kiv, then leave the system with these people.”

“There are more survivors on Levels Three and Five,” the Tannocci man said.

Jandeel gripped Sar's arm. “Kivita is more than just a Savant. She's integral to our cause now.”

“Not doing this for me, Jandeel. Go to the other airlocks; get what survivors you can. Meet me back here.” As he keyed in the sequence to
Frevyx
's airlock, Sar realized Kivita had infected these people with loyalty to her—a far cry from the selfish salvager he'd rescued on Vstrunn.

“We'll meet back here, then.” Jandeel ushered the other survivors—three other adults and two children—to
Frevyx
's airlock.

Bredine strapped on a sword and clasped two kinetic pistols. “Hmm. Kivita's coordinates. Yes, they are sent.”

Sar gave her an exasperated look. “What?”

“Redryll? Kivita sends, and I follow.” Bredine looked at her ruined helmet and pointed at the lift tube.

“Kiv would've made her way to Airlock Eight.” Sar turned to the Dirr woman. “Were there any more pirates? What did they talk about?”

“Six others went down in the lift,” the woman relied. “Stars winking out, they talked only of . . .” She glanced at the bodies and whimpered.

Sar took Bredine's arm. “Track Kiv. And keep still.” They headed for the lift tube.

“Sar?” Jandeel called after him.

Sar turned as an explosion rocked the shaft. Faint light flickered from another entrance.

“Luccan's dream will die on this ship if Kivita does.” Jandeel stepped back into
Frevyx
, and its airlock hissed shut.

Sar wasn't sure of his own survival or Kivita's. The only certainty remained the one he'd felt since Kivita had kissed him at Tejuit. The certainty of regret, and of what he should've told Kivita all along.

A shot whizzed past from the chamber ahead and Seul ducked back into the corridor. Point One's faceplate shattered and he keeled over. Another Trooper collapsed, blood seeping from her cuirass. More shots zipped into the corridor, striking two more Troopers. Shrapnel dusted Seul's polyarmor.

“Point Two, Flanks Three through Six: lay down a suppressing fire! Point Three, follow me in after the first barrage!” Seul waited until her Troopers fired green beams into the next chamber. Screams and the hiss of sliced, burned bodies reached her helmet's aural sensors. By the void, was every Inheritor aboard this ship?

“Go!” She ducked and charged into the chamber where several Inheritor soldiers lay dead. More than a dozen others aimed kinetic pistols at her.

Seul fired, sweeping the rifle in a horizontal line. Four humans hit the floor, heads cut from their bodies. A shot grazed her right thigh armor, but Point Three charged in and mowed down three more Inheritors. The humans fired again, then fled into the next corridor. Flanks Four and Five crashed to the floor, both shot through the chest.

“Secure the area,” Seul said as she stood. A wide observation deck, forty feet high, rose around them. Rectangular viewports offered a wonderful view of the gas giant, but with the ship's tilting, she and her Troopers had to keep their boots magnetized or else walk on the viewports themselves.

Flank Three dispatched wounded humans with her blade while others checked corners for hidden enemies. Potted plants and flowers filled the deck; some had been burned in the brief exchange. Their gaudy, colorful bulbs and petals seemed a waste. Who would rear plants for beauty but not food or medicine?

The real waste, of smoking bodies and still forms, lay around her. One dead Inheritor soldier clutched a carved wooden statuette. What was that likeness? It seemed familiar, like something from a cryo dream. Another soldier moaned a prayer to the Vim before Flank Three ended his life.

“Fools,” she mumbled, then studied her own Troopers. Just like the Inheritors, they wanted reunification with the Vim.

What did she really believe? Was it worth all this death? Seul's jaw tightened, and she had to look away from the shattered bodies. She'd see these faces, friend and foe alike, in her dreams.

Were Kael and her daughter worth it?

They had to be. What else was there to die for? Victory could be had as long as she still drew breath. First she had to find Kivita.

Her helmet speaker crackled and popped. “Vuul here . . . and it isn't . . . Qaan says the Vim derelict is siphoning . . . Jaah, give . . . status report.”

Seul sighed in relief;
Aldaar
still waited outside.
“We've reached Level Eight, and so far we've encountered nothing but dead Thedes and a platoon of Inheritor soldiers. Squad A has all been killed or wounded, and Squad B has two dead. Squads C and D have been completely annihilated.”

Through spotty radio contact, she'd heard Squad C and D's last moments near the engine-module breach. Such losses meant several human platoons had infiltrated the ship. She feared the Inheritors might have taken Kivita already, considering their stubborn resistance.

“Captain Jaah, everyone's rifles are on one-quarter power,” Point Three said.

“Cannibalize guns from the Inheritor dead,” Seul said. Dents and graze marks, as well as frozen blood, scarred her polyarmor. Bruises protested along her left side from a close melee with Inheritors two corridors back. These human zealots demanded lives for each area relinquished.

Seul studied the brain-pulse readout on her collar's extended lip. “Scanner shows several Savants and the Juxj Star are on this deck. Form up, everyone.”

As her Troopers reformed ranks, Seul's helmet speaker buzzed. “. . . commit evasive . . . Jaah, engaged with . . . aft batteries are gone . . . retrieve Vondir and . . .” Vuul's voice cut out.

Swallowing, Seul tapped her arm panel. “Commander Vuul?” If
Aldaar
was in distress, then what about the assault shuttles? She tapped the panel again with a trembling finger. “Officer Kael? Kael, do you read me?”

A low hum came over the speaker, building into a stream of musical notes, whispered words, and machinelike jingles. Some invisible force made the entire starship
vibrate, and Seul wanted to cover her ears. As soon as it began, it stopped.

The brain analyzer went off the meter, as if twenty Savants waited in the adjacent chamber. It had to be Kivita.

“Go!” she shouted, leading her Troopers in a run. The next corridor entrance hissed open. Kinetic shots rained down on her squad.

Seul hunkered down and shot down two Inheritors in a smoky haze. Their bodies floated in place, their polyboots still magnetically gripping the floor. A shot struck inches from her left leg. Shrapnel pinged against her armor. She flinched and scooted to the right.

Her rifle's ammo counter was empty.

“Kael . . .” Drawing her sword, Seul charged through the haze.

•   •   •

Dunaar leaned forward in his seat, gazing out the viewport as
Arcuri's Glory
closed with the Aldaakian cruiser. “Fire again, Captain Stiego. Their airlocks this time. I do not want any of their shuttles returning.”

Alarm lights drowned the bridge in red hues as Stiego's holo monocle displayed the sights for the port-side K-gun battery.

“Concussive sabots,” Stiego said. The security officer nodded, and the console beeped. Three shots sped toward the Aldaakian craft, where four breaches along its hull marked the first salvo's results.

Dunaar smirked. “The fools must have thought to delay us.”

A green beam flashed from the Aldaakian cruiser.
Arcuri's Glory
shook, and breach klaxons rang along the terminals.

“Damage?” Stiego's monocle flickered on and off. “Dammit, man, answer me!”

One of the staff hunched over his console. “Cryo Chamber Eight has been compromised on Deck Two, Captain. The breach has been contained and the surrounding chambers sealed off.”

Through the viewport, he could see the sabot rounds crash into the Aldaakian cruiser. Armor plating, hull, and mangled debris spilled out into space. The vessel reeled to starboard, while three assault shuttles maintained a close screen around it.

Dunaar licked sweat from his lips. So the Aldaakians wanted to steal what the Vim had sent the faithful? Let the pallid infidels try. “What news from the Thede vessel?”

“Rector, the Vim derelict's signal has cut off all communication with our troops,” Stiego replied.

“What?” Dunaar rose. Were the holy ones themselves aboard the derelict? Had he done something wrong? Sweat ran down his legs and pooled in his slippers. “Play the signal on the bridge speakers.”

Stiego cleared his throat. “Rector, it might—”

“Play it!”

Stiego nodded to an officer, who switched the signal to the speakers. Voices whispering in an unknown, guttural language; high-pitched musical notes; and metallic pings blasted through them. The hair on Dunaar's neck prickled; his vision blurred. The barrage pierced his mind and demanded something of him. Dunaar covered his ears until it ended.

Everyone on the bridge stared out the viewport in stunned silence.

“What in the name of the sainted Vim was that?”
Dunaar frowned as the Aldaakian cruiser repositioned itself. “Is that some sort of new Aldaakian weapon? That could not have been the Vim speaking to us!”

“Signal from unknown origin, Rector,” the nav officer replied.

An awful chill gripped Dunaar. Was this a message from the enemies Bredine had warned him about?

Stiego moved beside him, face pinched with worry. “Rector, almost three platoons have been destroyed at last report. The Aldaakians on board the Thede ship cannot escape. Perhaps a short truce to negotiate for the Savant?”

“How do you expect us to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the Vim? We have the upper hand here, Captain. I shall have Kivita Vondir if I have to sacrifice every soldier aboard. Their martyrdom will not be in vain.” Dunaar gripped the Scepter with slick fingers.

“Rector, a Sarrhdtuu ship has entered the system,” the nav officer said. “Their leader wishes to speak with you.”

“I shall converse with him here on the bridge.” Pride surged through his body, puffing his chest and filling his lungs. With the Thede leadership doomed, and Aldaakian military might being swatted aside, Dunaar had only to give Kivita to Zhhl. Then the Inheritors would take over the Cetturo Arm once and for all.

All humanity would be redeemed and ready to meet the Vim.

“Have faith, my children. What you have seen in this system is a sure sign from the Vim themselves.” He smiled, though sweat dripped over his parted lips. The bridge's holographic display activated.

Zhhl's image flickered into the air before Dunaar. It
had only two coils and two eyes this time. The hologram possessed a misshapen continuity, as if another frequency mixed with it.

“Prophet of Meh Sat. Our scanners indicate the Juxj Star is still aboard the Thede starship. Kivita Vondir would not have abandoned it. Your soldiers must act faster.”

Dunaar smiled. “My followers shall acquire it. Regardless of whether the Shock Troopers are victorious, they will have great difficulty once their cruiser is destroyed. They cannot escape.”

Zhhl's holographic coils lashed out at Dunaar. “Do not tarry, Prophet of Meh Sat.”

Annoyance made Dunaar's ears burn. “The Aldaakians will not just hand Kivita and the datacore over. They have one measly cruiser. Patience, Zhhl.”

“You must destroy the Aldaakian cruiser. No delays. We await your maneuvers, Prophet of Meh Sat.” The hologram faded out.

Dunaar fingered the Scepter. The Sarrhdtuu had never shone such anxiety before.

“Captain Stiego, close with that Aldaakian cruiser and engage,” Dunaar said. “Ensure that nothing remains.”

Gravity fluxed up or down every few seconds in the corridor that Kivita entered with Navon. Cheseia and Rhii checked the next circular door, while Basheev and four others leaned against the bulkheads, faces ashen.

“What do you see?” Navon asked Cheseia.

“Everything seems truly fine.” Cheseia pointed out the door window.

“Stars blinding, we're on Level Eight now. I think we should run straight for
Frevyx
, miss.” Rhii clutched Basheev, who stared off into space. Kivita knew the child would never forget these horrors. None of them would.

Kivita steadied herself against a bulkhead while datacore imagery passed through her mind. Though she'd learned to bury such data until she needed it, it now flowed through her thoughts with ever-increasing intensity—ever since she'd heard the strange whispers and sounds. Kivita almost mouthed some of the coordinates, until Navon touched her hand.

“Who do you think cut the flexi line?” she asked.

“I do not know, but we must continue,” Navon said. “Kivita, you are sending strange data to my mind. I cannot think clearly.”

“Yeah, sorry. I don't know why I'm doing that. Just nervous, and . . . you know. Airlock Eight should be just a few chambers away. I know
Frevyx
's airlock code.” Kivita brushed past the others, but Navon barred her path.

“Then you should share it with the rest of us. There's no telling what might happen between here and there.” Navon's firm voice contrasted with the genuine apology in his eyes.

Cheseia stood behind Kivita. “I also certainly know it.”

Rhii scowled at Cheseia. The others turned away.

“No, he's right. Here.” Focusing on the keypad sequence, Kivita broadcast it into the thoughts of everyone in the corridor. During her training on
Luccan's Wish
, she'd always transmitted data to willing minds. While escaping from Shekelor over Tejuit, it had been the opposite. But Kivita swore she'd never abuse it.

“Now you know why you are so important.” Navon moved from her path.

“Yeah. C'mon, let's go.” Kivita pulled the lever and passed through the circular doorway.

Gray-green coils wrapped around her throat and yanked her into the next room. Choking, Kivita tried to stand, but the appendages dragged her to her knees. Despite her helmet and air supply, Kivita couldn't breathe as she pried at the coils around her neck.

A brown eye and a purple eye gazed into hers. A green-tinted face smiled.

“Finally, after searching this wreck, you come to me,” Shekelor said. Behind him, six pirates aimed pistols and beam rifles at Kivita's friends. “I don't require the rest of you, though.” He nodded to his followers.

As they raised their weapons, Kivita forced raw data
into their thoughts. Shekelor flinched and drew back, while his pirates stumbled into one another.

Navon leapt from the corridor and rammed his knee into one pirate's chest. The man wheezed and fell back into his comrades. Kivita tugged at the coils, still unable to breathe. She met Shekelor's eyes and let the asshole see how the Sarrhdtuu had harangued humanity and all its relatives for millennia: the Narbas family, the Ascali, and the Aldaakians.

Shekelor staggered back, and his coils released her throat.

Gasping, Kivita slumped onto the bulkhead. Her throat refused to cooperate, but her lungs pumped with demand. She massaged her esophagus while the other Thedes charged the pirates. Cheseia snapped one man's neck, then shoved two others to the floor as they fired their pistols.

The shots cracked the viewport on the right. A whistling noise screeched in their ears.

Shekelor whipped Navon across the face with his coils, then skewered one Thede with his sword. Cheseia snatched a kinetic pistol and fired right into a pirate's chest. Navon punched Shekelor's jaw, but the warlord battered him to the floor.

“Run, Kivita!” Navon cried, before Shekelor hauled him into the adjacent chamber.

Kivita leaned into Cheseia as the Ascali ushered her into the next corridor. The pirates, who were not wearing envirosuits, turned and fled after Shekelor. The whistling noise behind them exploded into a defeaning boom. A klaxon integrity alarm rang in the corridor.

Gunfire and shouts echoed ahead.

“Kivita!” Basheev cried from the corridor behind
them. Rhii charged through with her son just as the corridor decompressed. The circular door sank in with a screech.

Kivita coughed as her breathing regulated. “I'm here! C'mon!” Together, she and Cheseia hurried into a cryo chamber. Two lamps faded in and out, losing power. Cryonic exhaust drifted into the air from a busted conduit.

Though Rhii and her son gathered behind Kivita and Cheseia, none of the others had made it. Kivita swallowed a hard lump in her throat. What good were these damn abilities if everyone kept dying around her?

“Navon?” Kivita called, her voice cracking from Shekelor's grip.

Her faceplate defrosted as a green beam sliced through the forward bulkhead. The opposite door burst open and four Inheritor soldiers ran through, aiming pistols at Kivita.

“The redhead is the Savant we're looking for! Cover me!”

The beam fired again, burning a hole through the soldier's chest.

Turning, the Inheritors fired back through the doorway. A body in black polyarmor fell, while a second one waded in among the soldiers with a sword. Blood and screams filled the entrance. Another shot fired. Then the human soldiers lay dead.

Two Aldaakian Shock Troopers entered the chamber, their magnetized boots clanking on the floor. One raised a beam rifle, but the one with the sword held up a hand and pointed at Kivita.

Through the Trooper's faceplate, Seul Jaah stared at Kivita, her white-within-azure eyes wide.

“Kivita! You must come with me. I have searched and lost so many. . . . My orders are to rescue you. Please hurry!” Seul's firm tone belied the relief playing across her face.

Luccan's Wish
rocked back and forth. Gravity disappeared for an instant, then returned. The lamps dimmed; the integrity alarm died. Three more Shock Troopers entered the chamber, their polyarmor battered. With their magnetized boots, neither she nor the Aldaakians had lost their footing.

Kivita's heart raced. “Can you save the others? How bad is the damage? Who fired on us?”

Shekelor and his pirates popped from behind the cryopods on their left and fired. Two Troopers crumpled to the floor, shot through their faceplates. Seul's remaining comrades returned fire, reducing the walls to orange-yellow slag.

Smiling, Shekelor morphed through the wall itself. Kivita gaped and staggered back, but Shekelor reappeared from the other side of the wall and shot down another Trooper.

Seul ducked down and beckoned. “Kivita, don't delay!”

As Kivita gripped Cheseia's hand and ran, Inheritor soldiers charged into the chamber, and Shekelor's pirates surged forward. Another Trooper collapsed, shot three times in the chest. Polyarmor shards enfiladed Kivita as she reached for Rhii and Basheev. Cheseia shielded all three of them, the shrapnel ripping her envirosuit in several places.

“Kivita! I—” Seul's words ended as Shekelor slashed her cuirass with his sword. She clanked to the floor, limp.

“You filth!” Kivita yelled at Shekelor.

The surviving Aldaakians fell to numerous kinetic bullets. Holes smoked in black polyarmor; gauntleted hands trembled on rifle triggers and fell still.

Rhii lay on the floor with Basheev. Horror filled their eyes as Inheritor soldiers aimed pistols at them all.

“Is this what you seek? The blood of the innocent?” Navon, now held by two pirates, asked. Like Shekelor, they all morphed through the walls. The action made little sound and left olive stains in their wake.

Ice-cold fear sank into her gut as Kivita wondered how the pirates breathed, since so much air had been sucked out from the cracked viewport in the last corridor.

“No one is innocent—only those who claim to be,” Shekelor said. “Take her. Bring the Ascali, too.”

Kivita flinched as two pirates affixed her wrists together with flexi. Others did the same to Cheseia and Navon. The Inheritors waited, as if supporting Shekelor's deeds.

Shekelor spoke into a mic inset into the carapace armor covering his arm. “Bring
Fanged Pauper
to Airlock Eight. Inform Zhhl that I have her.”

Concentrating, Kivita tried to shove raw data into her enemies' minds again, but Shekelor snatched up Rhii and Basheev with one hand.

“Continue, and I shall kill them right now. The boy I shall take my time with.”

Kivita glowered at Shekelor. “Goddamn you. No wonder you're so cruel. You can't have a heart, moving through walls like that.”

“This is just the beginning,” Shekelor said. “The Sarrhdtuu keep their promises.”

“Whatever they've promised you, you'll still suffer,” Kivita said.

Shekelor shoved Rhii and her son into the hands of another pirate. “You know nothing of suffering. Nothing.”

The pirates led them through corridors coated in slag, corpses, and body parts; dead Inheritors sliced in twain; crumpled Aldaakians with pierced armor lying in pools of frozen blood. Here and there, a Thede Kivita had trained with in the gym or studied alongside in the library lay dead. With fierce effort, she fought back tears.

“I know it needs to end.” Taking a deep breath, she began sorting all the data in her mind for one final broadcast.

•   •   •

Sar paused while Bredine concentrated on what she claimed was Kivita's position. They stood in a corridor filled with Inheritor and Aldaakian dead. Slag pools still cooled at their feet, and the walls had been blasted to the bare framing underneath. He snatched another kinetic pistol, since none of the Shock Trooper rifles retained any power. It surprised him they'd left their dead, and made him even more concerned for Kivita.

“Hmm. Kivita is on this deck. Redryll? She is sending more things. More . . . beautiful things.” Bredine stared into the air with wonder, her mouth open.

Sar tapped her shoulder. “Not now. Lead on.”

Together they tramped into the remains of a cryo chamber where olive-skinned pirates lay among the dead. Shouts reverberated back to them from an adjacent corridor. The air grew so thin, Sar took slow, shallow breaths, each one tasting of dry cryonic exhaust and slag fumes.

“Redryll? That way. Gushing hot for Kivita, I know. That way, I said.” Bredine's tone became more demanding and urgent.

“You handled yourself well back there,” Sar said, as they went in the direction she'd indicated. In the next corridor, the scents of charred flesh, melted steel, and burnt hair made him gag.

“Father was selfish. I wanted all to see what Kivita has shown me. Hmm.”

Walking into the next chamber, Sar realized they'd simply rounded a turn; they were heading back to Airlock Eight. He almost chided Bredine, when the clanking of magnetized boots reached his ears. He went prone with the wall, as did Bredine. Two squads of Inheritor soldiers passed. Many carried or shouldered wounded comrades. The small force entered an opposite corridor leading straight to the airlock.

A moan from the floor caught Sar's attention. One Shock Trooper, blood flowing from her cuirass, beckoned him closer.

The visage inside the faceplate shocked him. “Seul?”

“Shekelor Thal . . . took Kivita,” Seul whispered. “All my Troopers . . . dead. Kivita will bring the Vim. . . . Sar, please help her.”

“You're going to help me.” Sar hefted her up, but Seul coughed and pushed away from him, strength still in her movements. “Can you hail one of those assault shuttles of yours?”

Seul gasped until her polyarmor compressed. Blood ceased flowing from the cut across her chest. “The Vim signal . . . The signal has blocked most communication.”

“Lean on my shoulder.” Sar kept the pistol aimed forward. Right now, any foe of the Inheritors became his ally.

“No, I—” Seul coughed.

“Just do it, dammit.” Sar wrapped a hand around her waist, and Bredine steadied her other side.

Luccan's Wish
rocked violently. His footsteps grew lighter.

“Shit. Hurry.” They ran with slowing steps into another corridor. Half a platoon of Inheritor soldiers rounded the corner they'd just left.

“Thedes! Shoot them!” an Inheritor officer shouted.

Sar jerked Seul with him into a declivity between the corridor wall and an intercom panel. Bredine knelt behind a supply crate as kinetic shots dented the bulkheads around them.

The red-uniformed troops crept closer, cursing the lessening gravity. Sar poked out from the declivity and fired twice. Two soldiers bucked backward, holes in their chests, bodies floating off the floor.

“Officer . . . um, Kael, can you hear me?” Seul asked. “Sar, there's nothing but static now.”

“Keep trying,” Sar said.

Bredine edged forward until the pressurized door on their right hissed open. “Redryll? Go through.”

Six Inheritors charged down the corridor, blades and pistols in hand.

Bredine fired, the shot snapping through one soldier's helmet. Ducking, Sar exited the corridor with Seul. Two dead Troopers barred their path. One of them still clutched a beam rifle.

“Come on!” Sar called to Bredine, and fired. An Inheritor clutched his shattered shoulder and retreated.

Seul grabbed the rifle and fired, holding down the trigger. The soldiers screamed as the concentrated beam continued on through three of them. She swept it,
decapitating another before the last two fell prone and fired.

A shot ripped into Sar's left leg above the knee. He grunted and bumped against Seul, and the green beam sliced into the ceiling as she fell back. The lamps went dead, casting the corridor into darkness.

Bredine tugged him through the circular door. Seul followed, holding her chest. For a moment, the corridor's dim light revealed another charge by the Inheritors. Desperation shone on their faces, and Sar realized they might all be stranded on
Luccan's Wish
. The significance of Airlock Eight loomed larger in his mind.