Zodiac (Zodiac, #1)(104)
The only thing I can do now is be honest. I reach for Mathias’s hand, and his fingers close around mine. “Mathias—”
“I know you’ve been upset with me, Rho, but please don’t ever doubt my faith in you. You’re a natural leader. I should have told you that a long time ago.” His voice is lush and soothing, and the blue of his eyes is soft. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes the past few weeks, but believe me, all I’ve ever wanted to do is help you.” Then he adds with a wistful smile, “Well, that’s not all I’ve wanted.”
A million different emotions course through me, and I don’t know how I feel about Mathias or Hysan. All I know is that I need to come clean with both of them. “I need to tell you something—”
We fly off the deck and bash against the telescope housing, as an explosion hits the side of the ship. We’ve lost our gravity.
Screams pierce the air. Everything and everyone goes flying as the ship shakes violently, under attack.
Mathias reaches out for me, but we’re too far. He digs his nails in the walls, pulling himself closer to me. I hold onto the telescope housing, stretching my free arm out as far as I can.
The moment our hands connect, the lights go out, and we’re in total darkness.
38
FOR TEN SECONDS, WE’RE BLIND, until Firebird’s battery backups kick in. The emergency lighting blinks on with a dull green buzz.
“We need to get to the bridge,” says Mathias, pulling me along with him. When another explosion hammers our ship, the deck pitches up at us, and I knock against it with outstretched hands to cushion the blow. Mathias clutches me, and we pull ourselves toward the bridge, hand over hand.
The bridge is in turmoil. Screens, charts, empty cups, and bright splashes of tea rocket through the air like missiles. Firebird is not equipped for zero gravity. There are no handrails or footrails. Crewmen cling to whatever they can find.
“Admiral, what’s happening?” I yell through the chaos.
Ignus grapples his seat in both arms while his legs fly up and swing out of control. “Our antimatter engine imploded. Don’t ask me how.”
Lord Neith appears on the largest view screen. “Psynergy attack,” he reports. He’s calling from Equinox, breaking radio silence, but what does that matter now? Ochus found us.
“What happened to the shields?” I start to ask, but then I realize the question’s moot. I have to get to my Wasp and draw the monster’s attention away from the fleet. I may be too late, but I have to try.
Mathias must be thinking the same thing, because he grabs me around the waist and heads toward the tube leading to the hangar deck. Bouncing from one surface to another, he has to shove me along, kicking against the walls. The ship reels in a nauseating spiral, and soon I’m going to throw up the fruit Hysan gave me. I wish I could find him to know he’s okay. I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye.
All the skiffs and gunships are lashed down in the hangar. Hand tools zoom around us, clanging against metal walls, smashing windshields, and even hitting people. We dodge and swim through the mayhem, kicking off whatever surfaces we can find to navigate.
A massive cable comes snaking toward us, and Mathias lunges to shield me. After he’s knocked it out of the way, we reach my Wasp. It’s near the stern airlock, and it looks intact. Mathias gives me a push. “Get in. Get your suit on.”
I ricochet into the Wasp and bounce against the console. I don’t need a compression suit in here because the cabin will be pressurized when I launch. Mathias is being overcautious. Still, I do as I’m told and struggle into the tight-fitting suit while he goes to open the airlock.
At last, Firebird stops tumbling, and we stabilize. But the power’s still out, and we’re weightless. Mathias has to wrench the stern airlock open by hand, and I notice his uniform’s torn at the front. That cable must’ve struck his chest.
I pull myself out to see if he’s okay—and then I’m standing on my head, hanging onto the lashing, as every movable object goes flying up to the ceiling.
Our ship’s in free fall.
I hang on with all my strength, and so does Mathias. We must be caught in the gravitational pull of planet Ichthys. Tools, broken glass, and bodies lie plastered against the hangar ceiling, and I clench my jaw to hold back a scream—Cendia’s up there, twisted among the wreckage. Peero too. They look unconscious, or worse.
The ship pitches over into a nosedive, and the tools make a loud racket, rolling upward to the stern. The airlock’s uphill from me now, and even with Mathias’s brawn, we’re not strong enough to push the Wasp up that far. I can’t even undo the lashing, or she’ll tumble away and crash.
“Mother Rho! Use the windlass. I can show you.”
It’s the chief mechanic, Foth. He’s bleeding from cuts on his face and arms, pulling himself along the steep deck with something heavy slung on his belt. Straps and pulleys—it’s a block and tackle. Foth climbs into the airlock and hooks one of the pulleys to a flange, then he reels a strap down toward me, and Mathias and I attach it to my Wasp.
Firebird starts rumbling, jerking back and forth. Every loose screw vibrates, and my teeth knock together. “We must be entering the Piscene atmosphere,” shouts Mathias. “Get in and stay in.” He boosts me into the Wasp, and for once I have no problem following his orders.