Page 4 of Gyft

Only Yvette sobs, making the ceremony more of a funeral than a wedding.

The head justice clears his throat again. “By the power vested in me by the planets Earth and Kashia, I hereby pronounce you bride and groom.”

He bows his head, brings his palms together in front of his chest in a prayer position—I know what the bastards are really praying for, that the Kashians uphold their end of the bargain to defend us from the Bril’tioks—and takes a step back. There’s utter silence.

A noise comes from the alien on the viewing screen... a strange, gargling sound, followed by his odd language.

My eyes flit over the screen, reading the words that scroll across the bottom.

I look forward to meeting you in person, my bride.

I don’t bother to respond. Instead, I turn my back to him. The two guards standing with me take my arms and I’m escorted to the shuttle, the front door wide open.

Do the aliens even realize it’s so I can’t run? Can’t make a scene? Can’t... refuse their request for the alliance through a bride?

“Make sure you fasten the seatbelt,” the guard with me says. “That will initiate the door and start the engine sequence.”

That means I won’t be able to study the control panel. My hands tingle with adrenaline. Will I be forced to give up taking control of my own fate?

But the swish of my full gown is a blessing in disguise. As I enter the doorway, it completely fills the narrow opening, blocking most of the light inside the shuttle. I pause, allowing my enhanced pupils to grow used to the dark. Then I take a quick glance back over my shoulder for one last look at Yvette.

Beautiful tears fall down my BFF’s face. It’s a tragic, fitting send-off and I straighten my shoulders, determined to be the brave sacrifice we both know I am.

I give her a slight nod and lean forward, letting the skirts block their view for a moment. There. A small, preset dial. Right in front of the board that I’ll lean against to fasten the seatbelt, triggering everything to be set in motion. Where the standing board that becomes a bed as the shuttle takes off moves from an upright position to lying.

With a quick flick of my hand—and it takes a little pressure, but shame on them for not encasing it in a box for safety—the dial flutters round and round like a gameshow host’s spinning of the prize wheel and I hold my breath, watching it flip until it sets my new destination.

My new fate.

I quickly clamor onto the backboard and grab the seatbelt, aware of the lights flashing off and on outside as the coordinates change on the outer computers the engineers monitor from the maincounter.

My fingers fumble, feeling clumsy and slow as I hurry to lock the metal belt in place.Hurry, hurry, I chant mentally, aware of the commotion outside as I struggle with the click.

An entire chain of events is triggered.

I glance out the door just to see the lead controller yell something to my dad. In turn, he screams something to the guards and I quickly place the belt in the safety clasp, locking the new destination in place, setting the shuttle in motion. It dips and sways as it breaks the plastic seals that hold it, as the door vibrates and begins to move with the rocking at the base.

My father’s henchmen race across the room toward me as the door slowly slides shut, closing just as they reach it. They slam their fists on the metal of the other side, again, the metal plates of their gloves reverberating the door like an old-fashioned knocker against the thick alloy of the shuttle, but I heave a sigh in relief.

The shuttle has been set in motion and can’t be stopped. Done this way on purpose, to prevent the passenger from panic or claustrophobia and trying to stop the take-off, which will implode the metal and gasses and destroy the entire takeoff port.

Half our home.

My belly swoops as the inner shuttle lights glow and the vessel rises from the base, defying gravity for a few moments before it lifts off through the ceiling that’s opened above. Upward I sail, lights from the colorful skies filling the interior until my modified pupils react, constricting instantly. They’ll widen during the darkened flight, once I get to space, enabling me to see clearly in the dark. But for now, they protect me from the light.

When I break Earth’s atmosphere, the shuttle lies back so I’m in the prone position. That’s it. I’m free.

Relief washes through my entire body, head to toe.

But then the vents turn on and a visible, smoky gas shoots out of the front dash.

What is this trickery? I hold my breath for a few seconds, before I realize that’s futile. Maybe though, some of the gas will dissipate as I wait. Or maybe it will dilute with the oxygenated air.

When I can’t hold it any longer, I blow out the stale breath in my lungs and drag in the tainted air.

It’s sweet-smelling and calms me instantly—and then I lose consciousness.

Chapter Two

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