Starfall (Starflight #2)(73)

And he was suffocating.

Deep down, he knew nothing would be okay—not ever again.

Cassia would never forgive him. She didn’t want a life with him, and she certainly didn’t love him. All the times he’d kissed her, she’d probably been thinking about someone else, maybe General Jordan. That was who she really wanted.

Kane’s eyes burned with tears that wouldn’t come. His chest and stomach were sore from dry heaving. Everything hurt, even the hair on his head, and soon there came a point when he wanted nothing more than to die—anything to make the suffering stop.

Then one night a man wearing simple black fatigues and a gas mask that covered his entire face appeared inside the dormitory. He was tall and broad with a band of thick pink scar tissue across his throat.

Kane’s spirits lifted. Necktie Fleece was here with the cure.

“Gentlemen,” Fleece said in a dull voice distorted by his mask, “I understand you’re in a lot of pain. I’m here to fix that—and to offer you a life beyond your wildest fantasies on a planet where there are no rules. It’s called Adel Vice. If you go there with me, an honest day’s work will buy anything you want.” He raised his hands, priestlike, toward the ceiling vents. “Including this.”

Kane glanced up.

He didn’t see anything, but he heard a faint hiss and detected a familiar scent of sugared almonds. The smell was much stronger now, so thick it coated his tongue. He pulled in a lungful of air, and an instant jolt of euphoria rocked his body. The pain was gone, replaced by a pleasure so intense there wasn’t a name for it. Nothing—no girl or drink—had ever made him feel this good. The ecstasy nearly crippled him. All he could do was arch his neck and give himself up to the rush.

But then the crash came, as swift and violent as striking the ground from a treetop. He cried out in panic, already empty and aching for more. In his desperation, he finally understood that this was no disease, at least not the infectious kind. He wasn’t sick, and neither was his mother. They were addicts.

And he didn’t give half a damn.

He would trade every cell inside his body for one more breath.

“This is just a taste,” Fleece announced. “I have more on my ship—tanks and tanks of this sweet air—enough that you’ll never feel sick again.” He held up an inhaler that Kane recognized as his salvation. “Any man who comes with me can have it for free. All you need to do is line up at the door.”



From inside the shuttle, Cassia leaned forward and peered through the windshield’s telescopic panel at Fleece’s ship, which was docked outside the mouth of the cave where Kane worked. Or where he used to work. He hadn’t left his dormitory in days. No one had.

She didn’t care what he’d said during their call—something was wrong. He’d acted too happy, almost manic, and that wasn’t like him. Neither was his declaration of love. As guarded as he’d been with her since the fight, he never would’ve said it first. So instead of relying on him to tell her when Fleece arrived, she’d moved the shuttle to the ridge above his camp and had kept watch ever since.

Now she was ready.

She saw the dormitory’s rear door swing open, followed by a line of men walking outside into the night. She could tell from Fleece’s energetic stride that he led the way. The others shuffled along behind him, cupping their hands to their faces as they walked. That was a good sign. It meant they already had the inhalers with the cure.

She tapped the panel to zoom in, watching for Kane as she started the shuttle engine. Her heart lurched when she spotted him, an inhaler pressed to his lips. He stood at the very end of the line, the perfect distance from Fleece, who was now guiding the men onto the Origin’s boarding ramp without bothering to look behind him.

Cassia gripped the wheel and lifted off the ground, keeping Kane in sight as she descended toward the ship. When she noticed Fleece disappear inside the cargo bay, a prickle of hope stirred inside her. Without him standing guard at the ramp base, he might not even notice Kane was missing. Her fingers trembled with nervous energy.

So close now.

The glow of three moons helped her see well enough to maneuver the shuttle into position. She touched down behind an ore collection bin near the ship. A few of the miners glanced her way, but they stayed silent and plodded onward. Right before Kane reached the ramp, he turned his head and locked gazes with her. She waved him over while opening the passenger door. If he hurried, they might actually pull this off.

But he didn’t move. He just stood there watching her.

“Come on,” she yelled, pointing wildly at the door. “Hurry!”

He took a puff of his inhaler and leaned toward the shuttle. Just when it seemed he was about to come to her, he looked away and moved his feet in the wrong direction, going up the metal ramp instead of away from it. She watched in disbelief as he continued all the way inside the ship.

What was he doing?

Her pulse pounded. She kept waiting for him to come out, but he never did. The ramp retracted, and she leaned aside, peering into the cargo bay to see if he planned to jump through the hatch at the last moment. That didn’t happen, either. The hatch sealed, and the Origin fired up its thrusters.

She shut the passenger door as gusts of dust and pebbles sandblasted the hull. The Origin lifted off, and she did the same, careful to stay in its blind spot. There had to be a reason for Kane to go inside. Maybe his inhaler was empty and he needed another. Or maybe Fleece had used threats to lure him on board. If Kane hadn’t muted his com-link, she could ask him, but regardless, he would escape through the waste port as soon as he could, and she’d be there to catch him.