He pulled up a screen, and she looked over at it.
“We’re somewhere I’ve never seen. We pinched to the black twice, if you remember, way back at the start of the journey and have traveled who-knows-where since. Maybe we could have figured it out in the Raptor if the Cores have the right maps, but in this runner . . .?” He trailed off. “I don’t even know which direction to go.”
“So my clever idea wasn’t so clever.” She should have found a way to keep them on the bridge.
It had been worth a try, but she had no way to know where they were when she’d negotiated to take the runner. She’d hoped—obviously foolishly—that Sylvester would have wanted to be near enough to Aponi to swoop in and take control of it when his troops were done.
“There was no good choice.” Ethan flicked the screen away. “I couldn’t have held the bridge with no supplies, and anyway, the Caruso had cut the power. The Raptor would have been of no use to us, either way, and the Caruso would have us as prisoners if we’d stayed. At least we have control over our environment and some supplies right now.”
So there was no winning, and if the Caruso were coming after them, they’d be prisoners again soon enough, given there was nowhere to run to.
She kissed Ethan’s cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. “Are we giving up?”
“Let’s keep going for a bit. It isn’t over ’til it’s over.” He didn’t sound very optimistic, though.
They might as well, Velda decided. The Caruso seemed to respect a strong opponent, and given the change in tone with Nirro, respect was better than nothing.
38
Velda had fallen asleep.
Ethan stood with her still in his arms and walked back to the rear of the runner.
The benches on either side would do as beds, but they couldn’t lie together this time. It was way too narrow.
They also couldn’t afford to both be asleep at the same time, as the runner didn’t have the technical specs to fly itself through space without pilot input.
Ethan lay Velda across the bench and stood over her for a moment. It was hard to take a step back, as if he was more himself, more content, when they were touching.
He forced himself to turn and find a blanket in one of the storage units, and tucked it around her before he moved back to the pilot’s seat.
He brought up the scan of what lay ahead of them. He couldn’t call it a map because it was simply what the less-than-powerful runner instruments could make out. This was not a known sector, there was no match-up of planets and other celestial bodies that corresponded to any map in the system.
And that worried him.
They would be pursued by Nirro as soon as the Caruson rebel leader had taken Sylvester’s ship. Nirro had made that clear.
And they had nowhere to hide. No destination where they could seek sanctuary.
Nothing but space and limited supplies.
They might actually have to turn and go back.
Not something he wanted to do.
A warning chime sounded from the panel, and he pulled up the rear lens view.
A runner was behind them, and by the looks of it, it was Caruson.
Before he could open a line of communication, it shot them, taking out the runner’s engine in a precise strike.
The runner jerked and then began to drift, and Ethan realized he was impressed.
The hit had barely rocked the ship, let alone jostled him.
The larger runner slid over them, a mechanical arm shot out and clamped them, and then the runner jerked as they were towed back.
Ethan stood, his presence in the pilot’s seat no longer required, and went to the rear to check on Velda. She was still sleeping, and he realized he was running low on sleep himself.
