“Worse than bad blood,” I confirmed. “There’s fear. Fear that one day Vikkat will decide he wants what we have and will try to take it by force.” I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of generations of paranoia. “We maintain minimal contact. Just enough to share catastrophic news if necessary. But my guards have standing orders to reveal nothing about what happens inside the valley.”
Cleo stood, her body tense. “What did the scout learn?”
This was the part that would hurt her. The hope and the impossibility of it tangled together.
“Vikkat’s people have picked up emergency transmissions.” I kept my eyes on hers, watching the impact of my words. “They don’t know who they’re from or what they mean. The signals are fragmented, but they’re coming from somewhere in the storm zones.”
The color drained from her face. Mierva gasped. Baleck’s skin flared bright with shock and hope.
“Emergency transmissions,” Cleo repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “From the crash?”
“Possibly.” I moved closer, my instinct to comfort warring with the need to be honest. “We can’t be sure. My scout followed his orders. He didn’t reveal that we have three sky people in the valley. As far as Vikkat knows, we heard nothing, saw nothing.”
“But someone’s out there.” Cleo’s voice cracked, and I saw tears forming in her eyes. “Someone survived. Zara could be alive. The others—”
I closed the distance between us, gripping her shoulders. “Cleo. We don’t know anything for certain. The transmissionscould be automated distress signals from wreckage. They could be from equipment, not people.”
“Or they could be from our crew.” Mierva stood, her voice shaking with hope and fear. “Captain Korvath. Dr. Rivers. The others who were in different pods.”
“Zara’s brilliant,” Cleo said, and I heard the desperate hope in her voice. “If anyone could find a way to signal for help, it’s her.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s possible.”
She pulled back from my grip, her mind already racing. I could see it in her eyes, the way she started cataloging options, running through scenarios. “We have to get word to them. Tell them we’re here. That we survived.”
“That is not possible.” I kept my voice gentle but firm. “The storms outside this valley are lethal. My people have no vehicles that can travel through them and we our communication devices only work when the storm cycle is low. Which it is currently not.”
“You have absolutely no way of contacting him at all?” Her hands gripped my arms, and I felt her desperation through that touch.
“No.” This was the impossible part. The choice that would change everything. “We have no reason to talk. He’s our enemy.”
“But he could help us reach them.” Baleck moved closer, his expression intense. “If we could convince him—”
“We will not have contact with Vikkat’s people until the next time he sends a crawler out this way,” I interrupted, looking between all three of them. “And even then, askinghim for help would mean voluntarily opening the valley for the first time in generations. It is simply not done.”
“But if it saves our friends—” Cleo started.
“I know.” I hated seeing the tears she was fighting to hold back. “If the situation were reversed, I would have the same thoughts. But first, the council would have to approve. Second, the clan has had to accept much change in recent cycles. Asking them to open dialogue with our rival clan would be a step too far for most of them. And even if we did, somehow, get agreement from the council and the people here, there’s no guarantee Vikkat would help.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Mierva asked. “Is he a tyrant?”
I blinked. “I know very little about Vikkat, but helping strangers isn’t how you survive on this planet,” I said bluntly. “Vikkat’s people are survivors, like us. They won’t risk their resources and their crawlers for people they don’t know unless there’s something in it for them.”
Cleo closed her eyes, and I saw a tear slip down her cheek. “So close. They could be so close, and we’re trapped here.”
My gut twisted at hearing her describe her stay here as being “trapped.” But then, being confined to a valley would be hard for someone accustomed to having the galaxy to explore. I’d try not to take it personally. “We’ll consider this problem, but we can’t rush into contact with Vikkat without understanding the risks.”
“While my friends die out there in the storms?” The words came out harsh, accusatory, and she stepped away from me.
“While we do everything we can to keep you safe here and try to find a way to help whoever’s out there.” I held hergaze, willing her to understand. “I know you want to save them. But we lack the ability to leave this valley, and it’s not as if the storms are getting better.”
“You should have allowed the scout to tell Vikkat’s guard about us,” she said, her voice sharp with frustration. “Wait—was the scout Vax?”
“No,” I replied. “Vax is not yet on duty. He is being trained.”
All three of them appeared relieved about that. And also sad about the news I’d delivered. It wasn’t what they wanted to hear. “I will leave you to your activities,” I said, drawing to the door.
In the corridor, I sighed and thought about Cleo’s devastated expression. She would not be joining me in my chambers this evening, I was sure of it.
