Page 66 of Escape Velocity

“Well?” he asked.

“It’s good. Not drastic. But you’d better show me how to do it, in case we’re there for a while and I have to fix it myself.”

“Yes.” He pointed out the places where he’d made her skin darker, like under her eyes, giving her a kind of tired look. And he showed her where lighter makeup had made her nose and chin appear to be a little larger.

“Can you give me the tints?”

“Yes.”

As she stared at his face in the mirror, she wanted to say, “We need to talk,” but she kept the words locked in her throat. What was the point of that now? They might be dead soon. Or maybe her crazy plan would work—and then? She couldn’t finish the thought.

Max also looked like he wanted to say something. But before either one of them could speak, Rafe called out, “Let’s get going.”

“We’re coming,” Max answered and turned away.

Back in the galley he put the tubes of makeup he’d used for the contouring into a small bag that hung on a strap.

“This is a purse,” he said. “Women carry them for stuff they need.”

“Like what?”

“Things someone might expect to see if they searched you. Like the makeup.” He handed her a comb and a nail file, and she put them in the bag.

“The file looks harmless, but it’s sharp,” he said. “You could probably kill someone with it if you had to.”

She sucked in a quick breath. “Are you expecting trouble down there?”

“I’m trying to be prepared.”

She looked for his beamer and saw he wasn’t carrying it. “You aren’t armed.”

“They could consider armed men hostile.”

“What if they attack?”

“Let’s hope they don’t.”

With the preparations completed they transferred to Rafe’s ship, the f. The control room was arranged like the one on Max’s craft. Amber eyed the two seats and started to say she could sit in the galley. But Rafe pulled down a third seat for her from a slot in the wall.

Then he took the controls.

As they drew closer to Danalon, her anxiety built, and she felt the food she’d eaten at breakfast weighing in her stomach like rocks. Although she’d suggested this plan, she couldn’t help worrying that they might not be able to pull it off. It was one thing for her to be in danger from Tudor, but what if she got Max killed, too? Or Rafe.

She had to press her lips together to keep herself from shouting at Rafe to turn around and go back. Instead she tried to think calming thoughts as she watched the green and blue surface of the planet swim into view.

“I can’t see where the—swamp rats live,” she murmured.

“They don’t live far from the river.” Rafe pointed toward a broad patch of green, “That’s one of their fields where they grow crops.”

“What?”

He laughed, “Sorry, I can’t tell one crop from another.”

When he’d parked in a high orbit around the planet, she couldn’t stop herself from shuddering.

“What?” Max asked.

“Nothing,” she answered. She wasn’t going to tell him that she was thinking this whole plan was crazy. Of course, her escape from Naxion had been crazy, too. That thought gave her some hope.

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