Page 7 of Needed in the Night
A last volley of plasma fire drove us back from the open door as the ramp retracted. Brae darted into the cargo bay unnoticed by the crew and slipped into the shadows on the ceiling.
With a roar of thrusters, the carrier lifted off the platform. I lost sight of the Erotovo, his guards, and Ergin’s body.
Every ounce of adrenaline and determination that had kept me on my feet and allowed me to all but carry Novee to the ship evaporated. As Novee let out a cry of alarm, my vision grayed and my knees gave out. No one caught me before I hit the deck.
Merciful darkness swept me away.
I woketo full-body aches and the sound of sobs.
Once my vision cleared, I found myself on a bunk in a tiny crew cabin smaller than my closet in the palace on Ngara. Novee had curled up with me, her face buried against my unburned arm as she cried. I didn’t have the strength to find something comforting to say.
At some point while I’d been unconscious, our half-burned coveralls had been cut off and our boots removed, leaving us in bare feet and what remained of our bodysuits. I was shivering. The ship was colder than I expected, or maybe I was in shock. Or both. At least they’d given us a blanket to share.
Someone had put analgesic patches on us so our pain was muted. Whatever drug was in the patch was strong. My stomach churned, my brain felt cottony, and my thoughts echoed inside my skull.
Brae?I asked, blinking up at the ceiling as it faded in and out of focus.
I frighten Novee, my shadowbat replied, his voice quiet—or maybe that was a result of my brain fog.So I’m keeping watch on the ship and its crew to make sure you’re safe. Rest.
I wanted him beside me for comfort and reassurance, but it did help to know he was monitoring what the crew was doing since I was in no shape to do so myself.Thank you, I told him.
Through the bunk and the bulkhead next to us, the steady thrumming of engines told me we had left Ngaran space and were now traveling at hyperspeed.
I had no idea what our destination might be, when or if someone might come to treat our injuries, and whether the way we were all but ignored meant the crew hated or resented us because Ergin had died.
What Ididknow was that I ached from my soul outward. The gutting memory of Ergin’s ruined body lying crumpled and still replayed in my mind in an endless loop. Every mission, whether it ended well or badly or somewhere in between, contributed fuel for my never-ending nightmares.
Unbidden, the Erotovo’s rage and roar echoed in my head:I will hunt you down across the galaxy for this crime!
I took a deep, shaky breath that hurt my ribs and back. Where would I go now with him hunting me, hells-bent on retribution?
My false identity as Halena offered some assurance, but nothing was certain. Not only did the Erotovo’s vast wealth and connections put me in danger, but they infinitely complicated future missions because if he or his agents found me, he’d blow my cover and possibly endanger the Web’s operations. My handler might opt not to use me as an agent anymore, or at least until the furor over Novee's rescue died down and the Erotovo lost interest in me—however long that took. Whether my churning insides were the result of those fears, my wounds, or both, I couldn’t tell.
By the time a grim crew member came with a medical kit, Novee had cried herself out and fallen asleep, my painkillers had mostly worn off, and the air in our little cabin had become thick with the odors of burned hair and flesh.
Two hours later, the medic departed, leaving us bandaged, mostly healed, and acutely nauseated from intensive muscle, tissue, and dermal repair procedures. We would have some scars on our backs, but not as severe or extensive as I’d feared. We’d also gotten new analgesic patches, so at least we weren’t in pain anymore—at least, not physically.
Just as my nausea began to lessen, I received confirmation from my Web handler via long-range transmission that I had been deactivated as an agent indefinitely. I was too numb and sick to my stomach to feel much at the news except hollowness and the sensation of being adrift.
The brief message stated that when this ship arrived on Fyloria, I would be given assistance with altering my appearance. I would also receive a new identity, one-way transport to a world of my choosing, and a small stipend to tide me over until I found work. I was not to reach out to my handler under any circumstances.
At least I wouldn’t be cut off completely. Once I chose my destination, I’d get the name of a local agent who’d be my contact there. They would help me if I found myself in danger.
And just like that, not only had I lost my job but my identity and sense of purpose too. The enormity of it all hadn’t sunk in yet. It probably wouldn’t until after I got my new identity and boarded a transport for some world a long way from Ngara.
Everything about who I was now was tied into my work for the Web. Who was I without my mission? I didn’t know.
When Novee asked to share my bunk for the night rather than move to another cabin, it didn’t occur to me to refuse. I needed comfort too.
As the crew went about their business outside our closed door under Brae’s watchful eyes, Novee and I lay in near darkness, watching stars and planets streak by at hyperspeed outside the window. Our heads lay next to each other and her cool hand rested on mine.
The crew had given us spare uniforms to wear, food, water, and a bottle of Probytian moonshine, which was now open and two-thirds empty. We’d lost the cork somewhere in the bedding.
“I am sorry,” Novee said, her gaze on the window that slanted over us above the bunk. Starlight reflected on the bluetears rolling down her face. “You have lost everything because of me.”
“Nothing that happened today was caused by you. It was the Erotovo’s doing,” I stated, my voice quiet but firm. “And I haven’t lost everything. This is only temporary. I’ll be an agent again as soon as it’s safe.”
“If that is what you want, I hope it comes to pass.” Her long fingers curled around mine. “Your work is never reallysafe, though, is it?”
