This Shattered World (Starbound #2)(89)
I swallow as I catch it, my stomach uneasy. “You sure about this?”
“Just point that end at the bad guys if we make it back to Avon.”
“And who are the bad guys?”
She doesn’t have an answer for me, and for a moment I can see the weight of what she’s done in her eyes. She’s crossed the line. When these trodairí wake, they’ll report her for treason. Like me, she can never go home.
Jubilee clears her throat, and then the two of us drag the unconscious soldiers out onto the platform, concealing them behind some cargo containers. It won’t last long; someone will find them, or else they’ll wake and sound the alarm. But it’ll buy us a little time. Time to figure out our next move. We clamber back aboard, and this time Jubilee has me sit in the copilot’s chair. She starts flipping switches, so quick and so sure that I almost can’t see the way her hands are shaking. But I can tell by the set of her jaw she doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to process what she’s done. She just wants to keep moving, and that much I understand.
The shuttle shudders as the autolaunch takes hold of us, and there’s a faint sense of movement as we’re lined up on a launching pad. Jubilee’s silent as she programs in the holding pattern. The computers take over. There’s another shudder, and a hum, and then I’m pressed back against my seat as we’re shot out into space once more. Neither of us speaks as Jubilee guides us forward. She’s monitoring our course on a readout, the viewshields still in place; finally she stops, toggling another series of switches until the engine noise cuts back to a tiny hum and the cabin lights dim.
“Okay.” She leans back in her seat, palms braced against her thighs. “We’re far enough out, and small enough that hopefully scans will think we’re another satellite if we stay dark.”
“They’ll find us eventually, though, won’t they?”
She swallows. “Yes.”
I want so badly to reach for her, to wrap her hands in mine and thank her for defying her people for me; but I know she wasn’t only doing it for me. She believes in this fight now. She knows as well as I do that saving Avon is more important than her people, or mine. And I know she doesn’t want to be comforted.
So I clear my throat. “Merendsen’s note,” I say, shattering the quiet. “Maybe it has something we can use.”
Jubilee reaches into her pocket to pull out the coded message from Lilac. We lean together to study the folded sheet.
It’s a printed message, with Merendsen’s handwritten translation scrawled between the lines. Lilac is talking about all the things Jubilee seems to associate with her—parties, clothes, vacations—and though some of it’s left alone, Merendsen has translated other parts in hurried handwriting.
Knave got access, it reads. No records of a facility being moved on Avon. But Knave found hidden manifests from ten years ago, from unknown location in sector where Icarus crashed. Three shipments, three destinations. Corinth, Verona, Avon.
The paper starts to tremble; Jubilee’s hand is shaking. She grew up on Verona. And a rebellion happened there, too—ten years ago. I reach out and cup my hand under hers, steadying the page.
LRI using Avon as laboratory, soldiers as subjects. Whispers would never harm them; Fury must be side effect. Only way to stop everything is for J and F to find proof to show the galaxy. Don’t let my father do this to anyone else.
The rest of Lilac LaRoux’s message is talk of parties again, rambling on as though fashion is her only care in the world. Jubilee lets her hand drop, the page resting against her thigh.
“Why is he doing this?” I can’t think, the background hum of the engines shattering my thoughts. “What does this man have against Avon?”
“It’s not Avon itself,” Jubilee says quietly, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “Avon’s convenient. Far away from the galactic center, too young for anyone to be watching it. An endless war, providing an endless supply of test subjects.”
“Test subjects for what?” Frustration makes my voice crack. “What good does it do him to make people snap with the Fury?”
“Lilac said it was a side effect of whatever he’s doing. Maybe he just hasn’t perfected it yet.” She draws a shaky breath. “I didn’t have time to tell you before, but something happened to Commander Towers, just before—just before everything with Molly.”
The raw fear in Jubilee’s eyes makes my mouth go dry, forcing me to clear my throat. “She snapped?”
She shakes her head. “No, it was something else. She was telling me that LaRoux Industries has been here for years, studying us. They told her and her predecessors that they were studying the Fury, but…” She looks down at her hands, and I know she’s thinking of the bloodstains I washed clean. “She didn’t snap, didn’t attack me. She just stopped. Went back to work. Like something just…took over.”
“Like something was controlling her?” I’m trying not to acknowledge the chill running through me, my conversation with Sofia coming back to me. “My friend in town, the one who helped hide me—Davin Quinn’s daughter. She said her father was vague for a week before the bombing, distracted. You said the Fury is always quick and brutal, but that’s not what happened to Davin, who would have needed time to make and plant a bomb. Or Commander Towers. Or—” My voice gives out.