Aurora Burning (The Aurora Cycle #2)(33)

I take a deep breath, checking my grip, making sure I’ll actually be able to unpeel my hands when I need to move. Small movements, I tell myself, repeating the words Fin and Tyler chanted at me over and over during my one brief training session. In zero gravity, a sudden jerk or lunge will send me off balance, and momentum will keep me helplessly spinning. Every motion needs to be precise and gentle. There’s no up in space. There’s no down. But one wrong move and I could end up falling for the rest of my life.

Smaaaall movements.

Scarlett is still counting down. “… three, two, one, mark.”

Fin gazes calmly through the sights and pulls the trigger on the grappler. A metal line flies out across the gap between the Zero and the Hadfield, attaching soundlessly to the larger ship right near a massive, melted gash in her hull.

“Line secure,” Fin whispers. “Transfer under way.”

“Why are you whispering?” I ask.

“I … don’t know exactly.”

“You’re not much of a warrior, are you, Finian?” Kal teases.

“Will you just get out there?” Fin hisses. “We’ve got mischief to make.”

With the smallest hint of a smile curling his lips, Kal eases himself out of the airlock, pulling himself hand over hand along the metal line between the two ships. I’m next, and I can hear my breath shaking as I exit the Zero.

Even though we’re flying at hundreds of thousands of kilometers per minute, there’s no sensation of us actually moving, and aside from my breathing, everything around me is perfectly silent. Kal, Fin, and I are tethered to each other and the main line, and we all have jet propulsion units in our suits in case something goes wrong. But still, the void around us is so sickeningly huge and black and just nothing that I almost can’t wrap my head around it. And so I stop trying, focusing on the cable in front of me instead, whispering instructions to myself:

“Right hand, left hand, right hand, left hand.”

I know Fin’s behind me, ready to help if I need it. But that doesn’t change how impossibly small I feel right now. Yet somehow, instead of being frightened, I find myself … exhilarated. Feeling so tiny makes me realize just how big what we’re all a part of is. And being out here in all this emptiness somehow makes me completely aware of everything I am and have.

These friends, who’re risking their lives for me. Our little light, shining in all this darkness. I’ve never really believed in destiny. But out in all this nothing, I’ve never been so certain of who I am and where I’m supposed to be.

Ahead of me, across the bottomless stretch of blackness, Kal reaches the gash. Slowly, carefully, he tests the edges until he finds a spot that won’t cut open his gloves. Then, with what looks like an effortless movement, he pulls himself into the pitch-black interior of the Hadfield.

It’s my turn next, and I have to force myself to let go of the line, grab at the rip in the Hadfield’s skin. As I float into the darkness, I push too hard, and Kal saves me before I sail into the wall. He catches me in his arms, brings me down gracefully. My heart is hammering and my breath is pounding in my lungs, and now that my time outside is over, I realize all I want is to do it all over again.

“What a rush,” I gasp.

Kal looks down at me. “I know just what you mean.”

My body is pressed against his, his face just inches away from mine, and the starlight reflected in his eyes is like sparks dancing inside violet flames. I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart pounding even harder than before.

Fin pulls himself in through the gash behind us, pretending not to notice as I reluctantly push myself out of Kal’s arms.

“Line released, Goldenboy,” he declares. “See you soon.”

“Roger that,” Ty replies. “Good hunting.”

I watch through the hull breach as the Zero silently peels away. She disappears behind the arc of the Hadfield’s thrusters and vanishes from sight, hiding in the convoy before the security patrols swing back. We activate our helmet lights, and I see we’re in a long plasteel hallway. It feels almost familiar. It all looks perfectly normal. Except, you know, it’s totally dark. And it opens into space.

“All right,” Fin says. “The bridge is this way. Follow me, lovebirds.”

Fin pushes off the ground, moving as naturally as a fish through water. With gentle touches on the wall to propel ourselves, Kal and I float after him, our headlamps illuminating the way ahead of us. Fin’s studying the map on the uniglass strapped to his left forearm. His movements are smooth and graceful.

“Your suit seems much better, Fin,” I say.

“I won’t be winning any dance contests soon, but it’s getting there.”

“I’m sure you’re an amazing dancer.”

He smiles at me sidelong. “You trying to get me to fall in love with you, too, Stowaway?”

Kal glances Fin’s way, but with that cool I used to find so infuriating, he doesn’t ruffle. We make our way farther into the Hadfield’s belly, and everything around us is silent and dark. The ship doesn’t actually look that bad from in here, and I can almost imagine she’s still in her prime. But it’s when we round a broken bulkhead that the full scale of the damage hits me like a kick to the chest. To our right is a rip that goes all the way through the ship from the upper decks to the keel. Cables and conduits spill out of the rents between levels, metal and plastic all twisted and torn. Looks like the quantum lightning storm Ty battled his way through to reach me really did a number on the Hadfield. Or maybe she weathered lots of FoldStorms before he found me?