“Safe. Protected. Air clean.” He studied both of us for a long moment, then came to some kind of decision. “You come with us. Share information. Work together to find solution.”
“And if we can’t find a solution?” Torven asked.
“Then we survive together.” He waved a large hand. “Stay here, you die.”
I felt atruespark of hope for the first time since we’d crashed. These people had been fighting the same battle we were facing, but they had resources, knowledge, and most importantly, they had a safe place where we could regroup and plan. And eat. Sweetfuck, I was hungry.
“What about our people?” I asked. “The scattered crew members?”
“If they live, we find them. D’tran know this world. Know safe paths, dangerous areas. Better to search from fortress than from broken tower.”
It was a logical argument, and honestly, it wasn’t like we had better options. We were down to the end of our food and we had no way to contact the Destra city for rescue. Going with the D’tran was our only chance of survival.
But there was something else, too. The scientist in me wasabsolutely fascinated by these people and their history. The opportunity to study a lost branch of Destran evolution, to learn about the genetic manipulation that had created the mating marks, to understand the technology behind the weather control system—it was the discovery of a lifetime.
If we lived long enough to make use of it, I was going to write a very thorough report on this. Maybe I’d go for another Ph.D.
“How far is your fortress?” Torven asked.
“Twotickstravel. Have transport.” Vikkat gestured to his team. “We have breathing apparatus. Protection gear. Can get you there safely.”
I looked at Torven, seeing the same calculation in his eyes that I was running in my head. Risk versus reward, known dangers versus unknown opportunities. It wasn’t really much of a choice.
“We’ll come with you,” I said. “But we need to gather our equipment first. I have scientific instruments that might be useful.”
Vikkat nodded. “Reasonable. But be quick. Storm building. Need to leave soon or wait many sun cycles.”
As Torven and I began collecting our supplies, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our lives had just taken another dramatic turn. We’d gone from stranded survivors to participants in what might be the most important first-contact situation in galactic history.
The D’tran represented a lost piece of Destran heritage, survivors of genetic manipulation and environmental catastrophe who had somehow managed to endure against impossible odds. If we could work together to stop theweather control system, we might not only save ourselves and our scattered crew, but also help heal a world that had been wounded for far too long.
And if we failed, at least we wouldn’t be dying alone in an abandoned tower.
As I packed my scientific equipment, I caught Vikkat watching me with curious eyes.
“You study sky-stealer machines?” he asked.
“I study atmospheric systems,” I replied. “Weather patterns, climate dynamics, the interaction between planetary atmospheres and artificial control systems.”
“You might help us understand towers?”
“I might,” I admitted. “If I can access the right data, understand the underlying technology… It’s possible.”
Something that might have been hope flickered in his weathered features. “Good. We show you everything. All records we have. All attempts we made. Maybe together we succeed where alone we failed.”
Maybe we would. For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt like we might actually have a fighting chance.
But first, we had to survive the journey to the D’tran fortress. And given our luck so far, that was far from guaranteed.
CHAPTER 13
TORVEN
The D’tran transport was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was massive, built more like a mobile fortress than a vehicle, with wheels that stood nearly as tall as I did and armor plating that looked capable of withstanding both acid rain, driving wind,andprojectile weapons. The interior was utilitarian but spacious, with long benches running along both walls and enough room for at least twenty passengers.
Zara and I sat side by side on one of the benches, both of us wearing the heavy leather cloaks and breathing masks that Vikkat had provided. The gear was clearly designed for beings larger than Zara. She looked like she’d been swallowed whole by her cloak, and had to keep pushing back the hood so it didn’t fall entirely over her face.
Despite the protection the gear provided, I couldn’t shake the constant edge of anxiety that had been gnawing at me since we’d left the tower. Every bump in the road, every shiftin the vehicle’s direction, every casual glance from one of our D’tran escorts sent my protective instincts into overdrive.
