“That’s . . . unfortunate,” Sylvester said. “However true you thought that was, it means he doesn’t have any incentive to comply.”
“I have a suggestion.” Velda leaned back. “One that will give us both what we want.” She hoped. She was stepping into the unknown with this idea, but it still felt better than being at Sylvester’s mercy.
The fact that Sylvester had brought her to his own suite, and was treating her more as a guest than a prisoner, made her hope this negotiation would go her way.
“What suggestion is that?” Sylvester asked. He seemed uncomfortable in his own skin, moving around the room as if unable to settle.
“Is there an exit from the bridge directly to the outside of the ship?” Velda asked. She knew that was standard on most VSC ships, because the bridge was usually the most secure room on a warship. It had never been needed before, to her knowledge, but an emergency exit from the bridge, in case a ship was overrun, was standard.
Sylvester hesitated, then nodded.
“What are you thinking?” Linao asked.
“That you give me the runner in the launch bay, and I’ll collect Ethan and we’ll be out of your hair. As soon as the crew on the bridge that Ethan shot come to, they can open up again, and you’ll have your ship back, and you’ll be rid of us.” It sounded like the best of a bad deal to her.
Hopefully, she and Ethan could make a run for Aponi, if they weren’t too far away.
There was silence for a moment.
“That would work,” Brink said. “We’d be down the runner . . .”
“You’d be up a ship,” Velda countered.
“We could threaten to kill you where he can see it,” Sylvester said. “He’ll probably come out.”
“Or he could take Linao at her word and pilot this ship straight back home to Aponi, and you’d all be in jail.” Veldawondered if Sylvester was more resistant to the silver balls than the others, because he wasn’t bluffing about shooting her.
She guessed the answer was yes. He had been willing to sacrifice his own daughter numerous times and likely didn’t have much capacity to feel protective. She wondered if he was a psychopath.
Direct contact with her skin had softened him a little, but it wasn’t enough to overcome his inability to feel any emotion.
“I don’t want to lose the runner, and I don’t want to lose you as a hostage,” Sylvester said. “I have plans.”
So he would shoot her, but not kill her. That was something.
“Let’s talk about this,” Linao said. “We could be worse off your way, Father. I’ve spent time with Ethan, locked up in a cell, and he’s a good strategist.”
Sylvester shot her a quick, hot look, but before he could respond, there was a chime from the door.
“Enter.” Sylvester turned his back on Linao deliberately.
A crew member Velda had never seen before stood there in a dark uniform, swaying nervously. “There’s a problem with the engine,” he said.
“What kind of problem?” Sylvester took a step closer. “Does the problem originate from the bridge?”
“No.” The engineer shook his head. “No. It’s a mechanical fault. I don’t know what’s causing it, but no one on the bridge could affect it.”
“Can you fix it?” Brink asked.
“We’ve had to stop the engine. I don’t want to risk permanent damage. Especially as we don’t have a way to get spare parts right now.” The engineer clasped his hands together.
“The timing is suspicious,” Sylvester said. As he said it, the lights went out. They were plunged into darkness, but before Velda could consider moving, she heard the door close.
“Don’t even think about running,” Sylvester said, and then light bloomed in his hand as he activated a portable illuminator. He was looking right at her and had Brink’s laz pointed at her again. “What do you know about this?”
“Nothing.” It could be Ethan, but she didn’t know for sure.
“How did you get the door to close so fast?” Brink asked in admiration.
