Barbarian Lover (Ice Planet Barbarians #3)(44)

I’d noticed on the elders’ ship that it’d had air vents much like my old apartment back on Earth did. That had got me thinking about a game plan and what I could do against the Little Green Men. They have more technology than I do. They have guns and they have the numbers, so I have to be sneaky…and fearless.

I find a vent near the edge of the floor and dig my fingernails into it until I locate what feels like a fastening of some kind, and then rip it off. I tear a few fingernails, but that is a small price to pay. With shaking hands, I peel the thin layer of plastic off of the packet and remove half of the contents.

One part is a computer part, much like a USB drive, that will allow the elders’ ship to access this ship, provided I can find a compatible slot to plug it into.

The other part is a small square of filter that I’ve pulled from the elders’ ship. After hundreds of years of being in the atmosphere, it’s filled with concentrated nalium. I know that there is an element in the atmosphere of Not-Hoth that makes it impossible for humans to survive for long. There are trace elements of it in the atmosphere, and within a week, we succumbed to sickness, our bodies growing weak and our minds disoriented. Our khui adapts us and allows us to live planet-side. Of course, planet-side, there’s only trace amounts of nalium in the air. But after hundreds of years, the ship’s filters are full of the element. And if I add it to the air supply in my room, I’m hoping it’ll poison my guard.

The computer assured me that the tiny amount that I drop into the air filtering system is enough to do it, but the computer’s also three hundred (and some change) years old. It could be wrong. This ship could be more self-sufficient than I hope.

A million things can go wrong. All I can do is cross my fingers.

I replace the filter cover and sniff the air. I don’t smell anything. The air doesn’t taste weird. I have no idea if it’s working or not, if the poison is seeping into the air of my small chamber or throughout the ship.

I tuck my body against the wall and wait.



? ? ?





Hours later, I’m in a frenzy of worry. There’s no difference in the air that I can tell, and all I have left is the small bit of computer I’m supposed to somehow interface to one that’s three hundred years younger.

This is the stupidest plan ever.

Despair threatens to overwhelm me. I ignore it, because there is no Plan C. This has to work. This has to.

A mental image of Aehako’s fallen body flashes before my eyes, and I clench my fists, determined not to cry. He’s not dead. He’s not.

I’d know if he was, wouldn’t I? But we’re not connected by khui. We’re only connected by heart and mind and choice. We don’t have that deeper bond. We never will because of my body—

Someone fumbles at the door.

I jerk to my feet, my stiff muscles complaining. My body’s instantly on alert, my heart hammering in my chest. Did they decide to take my offer after all? The broken ship for our freedom?

Then again, what is to stop them from taking the ship and us? Or taking the ship and then coming back and snaring us at a later date? If they’re into slavery, it’s not as if they’re upstanding people anyhow. They can’t be trusted.

The door slides open, and the guard walks in.

No, he staggers. His steps trip, but he manages to catch himself, and he raises the gun. “Come on,” he says. His words sound slurred.

My hands fly to my mouth.

Oh my God.

It worked. He’s sick. I’m immune to it because of my khui, but it’s affecting the guard. Maybe it’s affecting everyone.

Hope flowers in my chest like a sunburst.

I get to my feet. He stumbles forward again, and I dart behind him. He turns groggily, and I kick the back of his knee. The guard falls forward, weapon clattering to the ground. I grab it, and race to the other side of my cell. There’s a place to put the hand that’s similar to my laser cannon, and I aim it at my enemy and fire before I can think twice about it.

The gun blasts, shooting forth a bolt like liquid flame. It slices through the guard’s head like butter, and he slumps to the floor, dead.

My throat closes and my nostrils flare as the hot smell of charred flesh saturates the room. I did it. I killed him. I’m not even sorry. These monsters don’t care if I live or die, so I’m not going to waste a minute on regret.

I step over him, clutching the gun, and head for the door. It’s slid shut again, and no amount of me slapping my hand on the panel will open it. Shit. This wasn’t something I considered.

I turn and look back at the fallen guard. His arm is extended out to one side, his rough palm face down. Oh, man. Swallowing hard, I lock the gun under my arm, aim, and shoot again.

The dismembered hand flies across the room.

Ugh.

I swallow hard and move to pick it up, then lay it across the panel. The door opens a moment later, and I step into the hall.

I’m one step closer to freedom. You can do this, Kira, I tell myself. Just find the bridge, find a place to wire the two computers together remotely, and you’re golden.

There are two doors on one side of this narrow hall, and a door at the far end. I have no idea where I’m going, which means checking every door. I move quietly toward the first one, slap the dead guy’s hand on the panel, and hoist my gun, ready to fire, as the door slides open.