The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) (33 page)

“What’s wrong?” she said, her mind foggy. She heard music.
 

“Nothing’s wrong. I gotta get some shuteye before we get there.”

“How long was I out?”

“Six hours.” He adjusted his seat. “If you see anything—anything at all—wake me up. Otherwise, give me five hours. Five, okay?”

After Tom drifted off, Catherine turned off the music and watched everything with vigilance, looking for the slightest problem. But none came, leaving her with her thoughts.
 

She looked out into the blackness, awed by the impressive velocity they were able to achieve in the F-6, while simultaneously struck by how slowly they seemed to progress when having to travel over such a great distance. People—that is, those who’d never gone to space—often remarked at how long it had taken to discover the Korvali. But from her own standpoint, it made perfect sense. There was nothing out here, no phenomena of any kind. Only the most tenacious would venture this far into nothingness.
 

Catherine tried to fill the time by thinking about her work with Holloway, about the progress they’d made. But all thoughts on that topic evaporated quickly. All thoughts of any kind evaporated quickly, except for those of Eshel.

Stay alive, Esh. We’re coming to get you
.

After what seemed an interminable amount of time, Catherine whistled to wake Tom up. They reiterated their plan several more times, identifying any remaining concerns and working out solutions for them. And just when Catherine thought she would go crazy if Tom said another word about it, a bright, shining mass came into view. The Gernoly star system. Korvalis’s home.
 

She recognized the gleaming white from the long-range images that explorers had taken. Korvalis’s cloud cover reflected its sun’s light, making it easily visible from a great distance. The cloud cover didn’t completely encompass the planet, however. As they drew closer, through openings in the clouds one could see the vivid blue of its massive oceans.
 

“We’re near the boundary,” Tom said, his eyes scanning the positioning system display. “Once we cross, eyes and ears.” He entered a code into the console to deploy Snow’s modifications.
 

They crossed. Catherine and Tom were silent, Catherine holding her breath, waiting for detection, for the sight of Guard ships, for any warning. They remained silent for several minutes, beyond the amount of time necessary for the Guard to detect and detain them. Catherine looked at Tom, and Tom at her. He lacked his usual grin, but she could see the excitement on his face.
 

How did you know how to do that, Esh? No geneticist knows such thing
s.
 

“Shit,” Tom said.
 

“What?”
 

“Two ships, heading our way.”

Catherine saw the boxy, austere Guard station in the distance, as two clunky-looking ships moved in their direction. “Don’t load weapons,” she said, seeing Tom eye the weapons console.
 

The ships passed them. Tom smiled. “They’re heading for where we crossed the boundary. They know something’s up, but they can’t see it.”

The craft shook as they entered Korvalis’s atmosphere. But just when it began to get too jumpy, they broke through. And after a brief period of good visibility, they entered the thick mass of clouds that temporarily blinded them and surrounded them in white. It made Catherine nervous. She glanced over at Tom, who looked calm, trusting his instruments to steer him in the correct direction.
 

After emerging from the clouds, Korvalis came in to full view. Among the vast oceans, muddy blue under the muted light of the clouds, there were verdant, hilly landmasses with outcroppings of dark gray rocky peaks. The land masses narrowed into countless peninsulas or broke off into clusters of keys, some of which were extensive in their reach. It was one of the most beautiful places Catherine had ever seen.

“The Forbidden Planet,” Tom remarked. “Looks small. And wet.”

Catherine nodded.

Tom glanced at his sensors. “No sign of pursuit. Give me the coordinates again. Read them out loud.”
 

Catherine reluctantly took her eyes off the planet and read off the coordinates for the navigation system. The craft slightly shifted its heading, aiming for one of the larger landmasses that, from their view, still appeared rather small compared to the enormous seas sprinkled with keys and archipelagoes. As they got closer, Tom decelerated more, bringing the engines to a quiet hum.
 

They landed just south of Felebaseb, behind the cover of a thick wooded area. The Korvali couldn’t see them, but they would hear them if Tom landed too close to the city. Catherine removed her contactor and put it aside. It would be of no use to her without the satellite network it relied upon. Instead, she donned a new instrument that Tom had loaned her to keep time and offer solar-based navigation. After Catherine checked her gear for the fourth time and got ready to leave, she and Tom reiterated their plan one last time.
 

“If you have any trouble—any trouble at all—come back here,” he said. “You hear me?
Back here
. No matter what happens, we’ll take care of it.”
 

Catherine nodded.
 

“Promise,” he ordered.

“I promise.”

They started their timers. She hugged Tom, and he held her a little tighter than usual. She picked up one of the six black devices Tom had made and turned on the power switch, placing it in the chest pocket of her jacket before she zipped it shut.
 

As she exited the craft, she realized suddenly that she was, to her knowledge, the first non-Korvali to ever set foot on the Forbidden Planet.

Catherine quickly walked north toward Felebaseb, the cool, humid air refreshing her. It smelled moist, like rain, grass, and sea. After finding the hidden sun’s location, she realized it was early morning. Once she entered the forest they’d hidden behind, it was almost as if the sun had set. The forest enveloped her, its dense dark trees with their tapered leaves towering over her and blocking the day’s light. She glanced at her instrument to ensure she was still heading north. Soon, to her relief, Catherine emerged from the forest.

She went over the plan in her mind again, recalling the contents of the storage drive Eshel had given her. His tipping her off at the party, intended or not, had sparked her curiosity and given her the opportunity to prepare in advance. She recalled her dubiousness at Eshel’s intricate, detailed rescue plan; she hadn’t believed that the Korvali had the ability—or the sheer audacity—to snatch Eshel from under their noses. She, and many others, had been wrong. Eshel was right. He was always right.
 

Catherine felt sprinkles of rain on her hood as she looked toward Felebaseb, a compound with nothing but dull gray buildings that housed the Guard’s corrections facilities. When she reached the door to the facility, she saw the security console next to it; it had a series of buttons, each with its own symbol. She pulled out the rectangular device Tom had made, aimed it at the console, and pressed the button.
 

Nothing happened. She waited a moment and pressed in again. Still nothing.
 

She felt a stab of anxiety. She examined the device more closely, discovering that it had a power switch. Once turned on, she aimed the device again and pressed. The electronic display went blank and she heard a click.
Holy shit. It worked
.
 

Slowly, Catherine opened the door and peeked in. She saw no one, so she tiptoed in and quietly shut the door behind her. She walked softly on the gray stone floor and headed toward the west wing, where the holding area would be. As she rounded a corner, Catherine halted when she spotted a group of Guardsmen protecting the entrance to the west wing. They stood quietly in their black uniforms, with their weapons belts on.
 

She waved her arm, daring the Guardsmen to see her. She was still far enough from them that she could flee back to the Mosca if her little black device didn’t work. The Korvali were superior swimmers… but they couldn’t run fast. The Guardsmen didn’t see her. She slowly walked toward them, growing closer and closer, so much so that she could see their pale eyes as they looked right through her.
 

As Catherine approached the holding area, her heart began to pound. The anticipation of locating Eshel was more anxiety-provoking than anything she’d done thus far. She reached the first holding cell and looked through the window. It was empty. She walked further, to the next cell. Also empty. After passing several empty rooms, she approached one that had a gray-robed, hooded figure sitting inside of it, his long, thin webbed hand emerging from his sleeve. She felt the beginnings of relief. As she got closer to the cell window, however, she saw the figure’s left hand. It had the spreading branches of the Osecal. It could not be Eshel.
 

She continued on, peering in all the remaining cells. Only two others contained a robed person. Neither was Eshel.
 

There was another possibility. After so little time, it seemed unlikely that they would’ve transferred him from the holding area to the prison. However, Eshel did say that, in some cases, trial and conviction could be swift. Catherine immediately headed to the prison, in the north wing of the compound.
 

Once she reached the north wing, she prepared to scramble the security door console until she realized a guard was coming. She stood aside, holding her breath again. He entered a code, opened the door, and Catherine slipped in behind him and then stopped, hoping to increase the distance between them.
 

The prison looked nothing like those on Earth. It had no bars, no strange echo, no creepy feeling. Instead, it looked more like a hospital, with pale gray floors and walls. It had many windowed doors, one after the next. It was scarcely populated and remarkably silent.
 

She peered in the first window, looking for Eshel, hoping to see his strong gaze meet hers. But then she had a realization—Eshel wouldn’t see her with her device employed. Why hadn’t that occurred to her before?

Catherine peered in one window after the next, the cells only large enough to accommodate two or so people. Many were empty. She scrutinized each prisoner, checking for any resemblance to Eshel. Most wore gray robes and, when visible, the branched marking on the left hand, rather than the magenta leaf. None were Shereb. She combed the prison from one end to the other, walking quietly in her sound-absorbing boots.
 

There was no sign of Eshel. He wasn’t at either place he said he’d be.

Eshel opened his eyes. All he saw appeared blurry, and his mind felt foggy. He tried to move, but realized he was bound to his seat. His first instinct was that he was on Korvalis. But once his mind cleared after a few moments, he recognized that he was on a moving ship. He didn’t know the ship’s origin, nor was there a window to offer any clues. But after a few minutes, he heard a deep, guttural voice from the cockpit, and then second one.

The two Sunai men spoke of a woman. One had outwitted the other the previous evening in gaining the attentions of a female; the other made it clear he would not give up his efforts to return her attentions back on himself. Eshel felt a wave of annoyance at the stupidity of their conversation.

He looked around for a way to free himself from his restraints, but found nothing that would help him. He noticed his missing contactor, recalling that he’d deployed its emergency signal. His hands were abraded, his shoulder ached, and his cheek hurt.
 

The two Sunai had approached him after he’d returned to the party; he would either leave the ship with them, or they would harm Catherine. After exiting
Cornelia
, he’d quietly dropped his contactor behind him; such a maneuver had some chance of going undetected by the impressive peripheral vision of the Sunai. As they’d approached a ship, Eshel, having no weapons on him, had defended himself using the only method available to him—his hand-to-hand training. He’d aimed for and broke both sets of eyeshades. However, before he could make his next move, he’d felt a brief pinch in his neck. He recalled nothing else.
 

The hum of the ship’s engines changed. They’d decelerated, and Eshel realized they were getting ready to land. The copilot stood up and made his way back to Eshel.
 

“The bloodless one has awakened,” the Sunai said.
 

The pilot landed the ship, turned off the engines, and joined his copilot, both observing him from behind new eyeshades.
 

“The black marking on his face is small,” the pilot said. “You should have punished him more.”

“I do not trust the Mutants to pay us if we damage him.”

Eshel knew these were no gumiia. They were military. The two men removed his restraints and, each grabbing Eshel by an arm, yanked him up from his seat. Eshel grimaced at the pain that seared through his shoulder. The ship’s hatch opened, and six Korvali Guard stood in their black robes, each gazing at him.
 

One Guardsman stepped forward and handed the Sunai something, fixing her eyes upon them. “Go,” she said coldly.

The Sunai men grunted. The copilot turned back toward the ship, while the pilot lingered for several moments, meeting the Guardsman’s stare. He finally turned and followed his comrade back into their ship. They started their engines, and the ship quickly rose and exited above them. The roof hatch closed, shielding them from the nighttime sky.
 

Two Guardsmen approached Eshel carrying a restraining device. They placed it around his torso, trapping his arms, and cranked the handle until it tightened. Eshel had heard of this device, but had never seen one. The Guardsman who’d ordered the Sunai to leave motioned to a small ship. Eshel climbed inside, as two other Guardsmen joined him. Once the ship left the bay, Eshel looked out the window at the darkness. Within minutes they were near the planet’s surface, heading in exactly the direction he’d expected.