Without a word, Cleo steps onto it, and I push to a stand as she lifts her arms. She grips the edge of the balcony and, with a kick I have to dodge, pulls herself up. I jump to grab at the edge, with muscles that are starting to shake as the adrenaline wears off but that are still Earth-strong.
We heave ourselves up and under the railing, and flop together on the balcony like a pair of fish out of water, still gasping for breath. I don’t think I can stand, but I force myself up to all fours after a minute. I crawl over to a desk, desperately hoping for a headset, and snatch one up when I find it, then crawl back to Cleo, who’s wriggled around so she can look over the edge of the balcony.
I settle the headset at her temples, then lower myself down beside her, lifting one arm automatically. She shifts over to tuck herself under it. We’re both still in our suits, and I wish I could feel more of her warmth against me, but she rests her temple against mine, and together we wait, caught up in this fierce twist of fear and wanting.
‘Rover’s going to pull in,’ Cleo whispers. ‘The best we can do is try and create a diversion, hope she realizes in time to run for it. This side of the base is closer to Ares. If they have to run back to the east side for one of their rovers, she’ll have a head start.’
‘We could find a console, try and radio her,’ I murmur.
‘We’d need to log in,’ Cleo counters. ‘What do you think the odds are of figuring out someone’s password or faking their handprint in the next two minutes?’
‘Shit,’ I mutter, easing away from her just enough to prop up on one elbow and look around the balcony for anything I can use as a weapon.
Cleo lets out a slow breath and speaks softly. ‘If we have to, we can yell for their attention. Then follow me. We can draw them off, and I can hide us.’ Her eyes are closed, and there’s atension in her jaw that seems like more than her reaction to the idea of having to run anywhere right now.
‘Hide us where?’ I ask.
‘I know places they don’t,’ she replies, but before I can press further, footsteps ring out below.
A sort of numb dizziness is churning inside me, that we came this close and our chance of escape is lost. But if we can find a way to get Rover out of here alive, then noteverythingis gone. She knows we’re here. Perhaps she told someone at her base. Or perhaps they’ll come looking for her.
It’s exhausting to have to turn to the next round of plans, to have to find a way to pick myself back up yet again. All I want to do is rest my head on my folded arms, and close my eyes, and wish myself somewhere else.
A noise jerks my attention back to the floor below as the Pirate comes striding out, followed by the two women who hunted us in the cinema. First comes the one with the tattoo across her forehead. Then the other, small and slender, moving with an innate grace. ‘Ballerina,’ I murmur, watching her move. Dancers do well in zero g, and I bet she was one, before she got into crime.
Then the outer door of the garage opens, and a rover starts to pull in. I can imagine the woman driving it peering anxiously through the windshield for us, wondering if she got here in time, or if the invaders will spring out. She remains inside the rover for now, and for that I’m grateful.
Without a word, Cleo and I both ease up to our hands and knees, preparing our aching bodies to run.
‘Station two,’ says the Pirate, and both of the women with him reach up to their headsets to adjust them. Beside me, Cleo does the same, and I lean in to listen. ‘Safe trip?’ continues the Pirate, his voice coming at me both from below and through Cleo’s headset. He sounds relaxed. As he should be, I guess – after all, his people are the ones holding the guns.
Eventful, says another voice through the headset, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s Rover’s, minus the static fuzz from the dust storm outside.
‘That so?’ the Pirate replies, and the back of my neck starts to prickle. Something’s not right here. He sounds way too conversational.
Well, I spent the last part of it talking to a pair of civilians you’ve apparently got running around your base, Rover replies.Someone want to explain what the fuck is going on?
Ice water trickles down my spine, my body ahead of my brain as I try to understand what I’m hearing.I’m frozen in place, and I’m not sure Cleo’s even breathing.
Then Ballerina speaks, hands on hips. ‘Are you saying there are only two of them?’
The Pirate cuts her off with a gesture. ‘I assure you, we’ve got it in—’
Do not say ‘in hand’,Rover snaps.They made an escape plan with me, you do not have them even remotely under control. I was hoping they’d be here to greet me, actually.
The lighting panel outside her garage turns green, indicating the pressure inside has equalized. As we stare down at thescene below, she climbs out of the rover, her silhouette visible through the frosted panel of the door.
Bile rises in my throat and I clamp my lips together.
There is no rescue coming.
And there’s maybe two and a half hours left until they blow this place up.
The door to the garage slowly rises, in time for me to see Rover bending down to pick up one of my gloves – I tore them off in my hurry to get Cleo out of her helmet and left them behind.
She turns the glove over in her hand, maybe considering how close she came to being in the same space as us. Then she comes sauntering through to the main facility, unbuttoning the neck of her suit and stretching away the cramps that come with a long drive. That’s when I get my first good look at her.
I stare down at her warm brown skin. Her dark hair is pulled back into a braid. As she turns, I take in her features – keen eyes, a mouth I’ve seen before, lips full and always halfway to a smirk.
