Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, #3)(27)



“The landing port is on the south end of the compound right here,” Soren said, illuminating that portion on the diagram. “The central-corridor access is on the opposite side, the north end. That’s where we want to go. It’ll take us right to the inner units of the Komodo without having to move through the entire thing.”

“You’ll get us into that corridor?” she asked.

“It’s secured, no question, but I’ll try to hack the codes when we get there. I tried earlier, but there’s no way to do it unless I’m on-site.”

“What if you can’t hack them?”

“Then we go to the loud plan. Explosives.”

Soren spoke without his usual bragging tone. He had made a mistake, and he knew it.

She glanced at Perry, hoping he sensed it too. But he seemed deep in his own thoughts.

“Three minutes,” Soren said as they crested hills that had seemed far away just moments ago.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through her. There, sitting at the heart of a plateau, was the Komodo.

Aria sensed the gradual descent of the Dragonwing as Soren counted down the last two minutes. Her pulse sped up as they approached the rows of Hovers lined across the plateau. She saw ten Belswans. Twice as many of the smaller Dragonwings. Just eight days ago, these same craft had been inside a hangar in Reverie.

Soren flew the Dragonwing toward a runway—a stretch of dirt that cut through the center of the fleet. At the far end, through curtains of thick rain, the south side of the Komodo hulked, dark and imposing.

The Dragonwing gave a gentle lurch as it touched down. A few Guardians exited the Komodo and jogged toward them on the runway.

“They’re just coming to check the Hover,” Soren said, answering the question on all their minds. “Don’t worry. Standard postflight procedure. Get your flight helmets on. When the doors open, go straight to the Komodo. I’ll handle the ground crew and catch up to you. Oh, and try to act like you’ve been here before.”

Aria glanced at Soren. As difficult as he was, they couldn’t have done this without him.

She pulled a helmet on. It was too big and smelled faintly of vomit and rancid sweat.

She left the cockpit, forcing herself to straighten her arm despite the pain that bloomed in her bicep. She needed it to look normal.

“Here we go,” Soren called, just before the bay doors opened.

A gust sent rain spraying into her visor.

[page]Aria jumped down, followed by Roar and Perry. Her legs felt heavy as she hit the mud, the drop bigger than she’d expected. She flew forward, lurching a few steps before finding her footing again. Both Perry and Roar reached out, but she straightened and ignored them. She doubted Guardians went around catching each other’s stumbles.

Behind her, Soren talked to the ground operators, his voice loud and confident, like he knew everything about everything.

Through her rain-pelted visor, she saw Hovercraft looming all around her, sleek and silent. Even with Roar and Perry at her sides, she felt exposed. Like the huge ships were an audience, watching her as she walked by.

The Guardian suit was water-repellent, but sweat rolled down her spine and over her stomach, causing the uniform to cling to her anyway.

With every step, the Komodo seemed to grow larger. So large that she questioned how it could ever be mobile. As she neared, she glimpsed massive, spiked wheels—each one several feet high. She’d been thinking of it as a snake because of its coiled structure, but now she thought centipede.

Two Guardians stood beneath a small overhang, manning the entrance. They wore weapons like the ones that had put a hole in her arm and in Jupiter’s leg. To either side of the entrance, she saw black-tinted windows.

Was anyone watching them? Hess? Sable? How well could they see through the pouring rain?

Soren brushed past her and jogged up the ramp, past the Guardians, and into the Komodo without breaking his stride. The men at the door barely nodded in acknowledgment as Aria, Perry, and Roar followed.

Inside, a steel corridor stretched to the left and right, hardly wide enough for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder. Aria’s breath came in gasps as they jogged right, Soren leading the way.

Ten minutes ago he’d almost compromised the entire mission; now he was in charge, following a schematic of the layout on his Smarteye.

Aria grabbed Perry’s arm, slowing him. Slowing them all. They were too noisy. Too obvious. Perry, Roar, and Soren had substantial builds. She was probably running with five hundred pounds at her sides at least, and the Komodo felt it. They were creating a small earthquake in the corridor, the floor shaking, reminding her this wasn’t a fixed structure.

They passed two doors. Three. Five.

Soren led them into the next one—an equipment room. Rows of flight suits like theirs lined the far end. Helmets. Weapons in narrow storage lockers.

Soren ran to a locker and rifled through it. He came up with a small, stubby black gun with a thick barrel. “Grenade launcher,” he said. “For the loud plan.”

They left their flight helmets, taking fresh weapons. Perry pulled a length of rope across his shoulder, and they filed back out to the corridor, Soren leading the way once again. He set a quick pace, just short of breaking into a run as he navigated through the twisting corridors.

Aria worried that every turn they made now was a turn they’d have to make again in order to get out of there.

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