Old Secrets (The Survivors Book Thirteen) Page 6

  “I… don’t think so.”

  I took a step forward, and then another. I heard Slate call out, but it was too late. I entered the time bubble.

  ____________

  Jules wasn’t a stranger to working without gravity, and with her abilities, she made quick work of the first corridor. She hovered in the center of it, floating to the door. The power was off, and had been for years, but all it took was a sprinkle of her energy shooting from her hand to the keypad to bring it to life. The old door split open from the middle, and she continued on.

  The station wasn’t that intimidating, and she considered the shape of it. She was near the outer edge now and would be arriving at one of the four towers if she continued. She could scour it and move to the next. Jules guessed this could take an hour, maybe two, and Artimi had given her thirty minutes. She’d already wasted five of them getting here.

  Jules activated a light drone, clipping the lower half to her jumpsuit. She let it leave her sphere, sending it ahead, and floated after it as fast as she could. The pathways connecting the towers were metal: walls, floor, and ceiling. No art. No screens. No windows. It was built for function and nothing more.

  She wanted to call out for Dean, but not yet. Wherever he was, he wouldn’t be able to hear her muted demands from this hallway.

  Jules came upon another door and did the same trick, entering the first tower. The room was large, with an elevator in the middle of it. No stairs. She floated in a circle around the space, discovering nothing useful. Instead of moving on, she entered the elevator doors, finding them absent of a lift.

  She floated up the shaft, the drone illuminating the way above her. She tried the next floor, and the next, until she reached the elevator box. She used her powers to cut a square entrance out of the bottom section and pushed it aside, the section floating in the zero gravity. Once she was on the top floor, she scrutinized the room.

  There was more here. It looked like there were rooms: at least two dozen small bedrooms, most of which had been picked clean. Nearly everything around the old station had been removed, likely by scavengers over the years. The place was almost entirely empty, making her search that much faster.

  What time did she have remaining? Twenty minutes? Fifteen?

  She was focused on the task at hand: locating Dean. Jules entered the next walkway and raced to the next tower, finding much the same. But at the third one, she paused, hearing noise through the elevator shaft.

  Jules entered it, lowering toward the source of the sound.

  “You can’t leave. I haven’t uncovered it yet.” Dean’s voice was muffled, and Jules pried the shaft doors open to see him in an EVA, holding the wall with his left hand.

  “Dean!” she shouted, and the look on his face said it all. She’d been worried that he’d be angry at her for tracking him down; that he’d resent her, or that he didn’t care about her. But the softness in his eyes, the smile that hit his cheeks, told her otherwise.

  “Jules…”

  “Who’s this?” the other man asked. He was short and stocky, with one arm.

  “Loplin?” Jules asked him.

  He nodded gruffly, his tusks clicking against his facemask. “What’s it to you?” He spoke a rough English, which surprised her.

  “You’re free to go,” Jules told him dismissively.

  Loplin didn’t need to be told twice. “Crazy kid. Dragging me out to Elion Station. There isn’t anything here…” He exited abruptly, bounding from the walls down the corridor.

  “Jules. How did you find me?” Dean asked, his smile gone.

  “I have my ways.” She floated toward him. “We need to leave.”

  “Why? I haven’t seen anything out about the Zan’ra here yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have a lead,” Jules told him. She stared at him and saw how tired he looked. It was hard to tell in the bad lighting, but he was paler, maybe thinner in the face.

  “I haven’t checked the center section yet,” Dean said. “Maybe there’s something about their homeworld…”

  “There are three Padlog ships destined for here, and Artimi doesn’t think they’re friendly.” Jules floated right in front of him, grabbing his arms.

  Dean didn’t resist. “Who’s Artimi, and why would we run from the Padlog?” he asked.

  “There’s a lot developing right now, and you’d know that if you’d stayed with us. We could have done this together. You’ve spent seven months chasing Patty, and I’ve had to follow your trail,” Jules said, unable to stop herself. This wasn’t how she’d pictured their reunion.

  He shook her hands off. “I didn’t ask you to find me. Did you ever think that Patty wouldn’t have been taken if it wasn’t for you…?”

  He seemed to be aware of his words the second they left his lips, but the damage had been done.

  Jules turned, starting away.

  “Look… I’m not blaming you, Ju.”

  She stopped, fuming. “Then why did you leave? Why did you leave your friends, your mother… me? I needed you too, Dean. Auntie Natalia needs you.”

  “I had to leave. If I’d stayed there, I’d have gone insane. My dad’s dead. Patty’s gone! I couldn’t sit around talking about it,” he said, this time quietly.

  “True, but we could have done it together.”

  Dean’s head hung down, and he looked much younger in his EVA than she’d thought of him in her mind since he’d vanished. “You said you had a lead.”

  She nodded. “I do. They’ve been sighted. We’ll start there. Just come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “Home.”

  “I don’t know where that is anymore,” he admitted.

  “You can feel sorry for yourself later. For now, we have about five minutes to return to the ship I’ve rented before Artimi leaves without us,” she told him.

  “We’ll never reach the dock in time,” Dean said.

  She extended her sphere, enclosing Dean inside, and began circling through the corridor, with the drone guiding their route. It went quickly, and she burst onto the ship as the vessel’s engines roared fully to life, and closed the ramp, shutting her energy sphere off, spilling Dean to the cargo hold’s floor.

  He sat up, unclasping his helmet and letting it fall to his side. “That’s one way of doing it,” he said.

  Jules helped him to his feet and couldn’t refrain any longer. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

  “Jules, you’re…”

  She kissed him, not willing to let the moment go. It was quick, not filled with passion, but worry and love. When they broke apart, he stood there silently.

  “You missed my birthday,” she told him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was my sixteenth. Can you imagine how much fun that was with Hugo, Mom, and Papa? I didn’t even wear a dress… not that I wanted to.”

  “Right. Again, I’m sorry. I…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, which was longer again. “I was possessed by this idea of finding her.”

  “And then what? What were you going to do?” Jules asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “I was going to bring her home.”

  She thought even he didn’t believe that story. “How? She has O’ri’s powers now. She wouldn’t have agreed to it. She could have killed you.”

  “I wanted to tell her about Dad. She needs to know,” Dean said firmly.

  Jules shook her head. “Promise me you’re done going solo. It’s going to get you killed. Then I’d be alone.”

  He shrugged.

  “What would your mother do? Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?” Jules hated having to say it, but it was how she felt.

  To her shock, Dean didn’t defend himself anymore. “You’re right.”

  “I take it we’re done here?” Artimi walked into the room with his arms crossed.

  “You bet,” Jules told him.

  Artimi started to walk away. “Good, because the Padlog have arrived.”<
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  Dean’s head tilted to the side. “Who the hell is that?”

  “That’s Artimi. He’s from Ravios… or his people once were. Until someone brought two demons home with them…”

  “Demons?” he asked.

  “Never mind. Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Jules took his hand, running to the cockpit. It was much less roomy with her and Dean on the bench behind the pilot’s chair, but she didn’t mind being in a confined space with Dean, even if he had bailed on her and his family in a time of need. He was doing what he thought was right, and that was something Jules understood more than most.

  “Hold on to your hats. We’re making a run for it,” Artimi said, punching the engines to full. As Dean flew back in his seat, Jules remembered that he couldn’t understand Artimi, since he was speaking another language. She glanced apologetically to Dean as they darted from the station.

  “The Padlog are activating their weapon systems,” Betheal said, altering the image on the viewscreen to show Elion Station from a camera on the rear of their ship. The three vessels fired at the station, destroying it with ease.

  “What just happened? Why would the Padlog want to blow that place up?” Dean asked.

  “I’m assuming someone ordered them to do it,” Jules said.

  “For what purpose?”

  “We weren’t the only ones that heard you were there,” she told him, thinking about the Padlog ship docked an hour or so away. “Artimi, take us to Ravios. No stops.”

  “Consider it done,” he told her.

  Dean paled as her words sank in. “Are you saying the Padlog were sent there to kill me?”

  She nodded. “That’s what I think. Maybe me as well. I don’t know how much information they have.”

  “And who’s feeding this to them?” Dean asked.

  “I don’t know, but I have a feeling Lom is involved.”

  Dean mopped a hand over his face. “Where did you find this guy? And how are you speaking his language?”

  “Artimi’s a friend now. And you can thank my being Zan’ra for that particular talent. He’ll bring us to Ravios, where we can use the portal to get to Light.”

  “You haven’t heard from Patty at all?” Dean asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “New Spero. She’s been mourning you too, you know.”

  Dean nodded. “I’ll go see her.”

  “Good.”

  “Jules?”

  She waited expectantly.

  “Will you come with me when I visit her?” Dean asked.

  Any other time and Jules would have been thrilled at being asked, but now, she felt like it might be invasive. But she had to support him. He was in a fragile state and needed her more than she needed him. That might not have been fully true, but she didn’t want to admit that. “Of course I will.”

  “Setting course for Ravios,” Betheal said.

  “Do you want to get some sleep?” Jules asked Dean, but he was already drifting off in a seated position. She wondered about the last time he’d been comfortable enough to close his eyes.

  Six

  For a moment, I was alone in the village, but the surroundings had changed. The structures were no longer rusted, overgrown with green growth. It was as if I’d traveled thousands of years in the past. Something akin to a bird chirped from a nearby tree, and the grounds were trimmed. Colorful flowers grew in familiar clusters along the walkway leading to the first complex, and I smiled at the sight.

  “Dean, you have to stop doing stuff like that.” Slate had followed me, and I saw Suma beside him.

  “Fontem said it wasn’t dangerous, so I took a chance,” I told them.

  “Just don’t tell Mary, okay? She’ll kill me.” Slate walked ahead of me, his pulse rifle tracking the air in front of him.

  “I don’t think you’re going to need that, you big oaf.” I set a hand on the barrel, lowering it.

  “Famous last words,” Slate mumbled.

  Suma pointed at the building. “This is crazy. I’ve never heard of something like this. Fontem obviously has, since he called it a time bubble.”

  “If this is a different time, where are the locals?” Slate asked.

  I shrugged. It was a good question, but we needed to investigate first. “Is he going to be okay?” I asked Suma.

  “We left him with Karo to stand watch. Fontem was emerging from his daze. It seemed like the time shift had some psychologically adverse affects,” Suma said.

  “No kidding. He was out of it,” Slate whispered, staring to the top of the building.

  “Let’s move. He said he spent an hour inside here, but no time passed on the other end. To them, it’ll be like we never departed, so we can take our time, search this place properly.” I pointed over the sidewalk that led around the building. “Let’s avoid the obvious and start at the other end of the village.”

  Slate nodded along, silently agreeing with me, and we walked past the first tallest structure and down the middle of a paved street. This roadway had appeared like rubble, with a proper forest growing from it in our timeline, but here, it was pristinely maintained.

  We heard something, and my pulse pistol found my grip in a split second. Slate stuck a hand out, stopping us, and he stepped in front, holding his gun up.

  An animal darted into the street a good two hundred meters ahead and paused, staring in our direction. It was almost deerlike, but with six legs. A longer tail flitted warily before it scurried to safety.

  “That’s probably what Fontem heard. I doubt Hanrion is still here,” I told them, but why else would this bubble exist? Maybe I was wrong.

  The village was smaller than I’d thought. Maybe, in our time, it seemed that way because of the immense overgrowth. The nearby trees had spread hungrily to the beach, filling the town out, but here, with everything so manicured, it felt intimate.

  “I don’t think this is a village,” I told them.

  Suma slowly spun around, taking it all in. “It’s a research facility. Far enough from the cities. Fresh water. Nice climate.”

  I hadn’t even noticed how much warmer it felt than the portal valley, but there were no flakes in our time or in this shift. The sky was clear; a few white clouds drifted above us lazily, making me think of weekends as a child. I used to read a book near the farmhouse, sitting under the same oak tree I’d found Jules using frequently as a young girl. I remember resting with the book opened, leaning against my chest, as I stared into the sky, watching clouds coast and spread apart, morphing into shapes my mind imagined as something formidable. Sometimes I’d see a dragon spewing fire from her mouth; others I’d witness a train racing overhead, exhaust billowing from its smokestack.

  These clouds held no such shapes, and I brought my attention to the task at hand.

  “Not my type of facility. No windows on any of the buildings. I hope they get outside time for good behavior,” Slate joked.

  We continued on, finding the farthest structure from the shoreline. It was two stories or so high, and the doorway was almost hidden along the wall. We had to walk around it a second time to notice the indents of the handles.

  I shrugged. “Who’s to say everyone’s entrances need to be identical?”

  “I suppose, but this looks like they wanted to deter entry,” Suma suggested as she pulled on the door. It opened smoothly, and inside, the room was bright. I shielded my eyes as I entered, letting my visor’s tint acclimate to the change.

  We spent the next ten minutes scouring through the building, but found it devoid of life. It all seemed so human, with chairs and desks, but everything was just a little off. Their chairs had six legs instead of four. The desks were odd geometric shapes; rather than being square, round, or rectangle, they were ovals or obtuse triangles. Artwork lined the walls, but it was almost three-dimensional, with deep grooves and peaks of color.

  We found basic bedrooms, what must have been bathrooms, and an oddly laid-out kitchen.

  �
�On to the next one,” Slate said, heading for the exit. The moment we returned outside, I spotted the form near the central building, the largest complex in the region. At first I thought it might be the animal again, but no, it wasn’t walking on six legs. It was on four, two long arms dangling by its sides as it remained completely still.

  “Do you see…” I started to ask.

  “I see it,” Slate replied. “It has clothes on. That’s no wildlife.”

  I took a chance. Regnig had been able to add their language to our translators, having read enough from their old texts, and I spoke using it as we walked over the cobblestones toward the figure. “Hello. We need your help.” The words echoed in the language of the Ephor people. I had no idea what they were called.

  I couldn’t make out his face, if that was indeed the inventor of the time bubble we were in, but he didn’t move or reply to me.

  We slowed our pace, and when Slate started to raise his pulse rifle, I shook my head, silently ordering him to stand down. We weren’t going to get anywhere with the local if we scared him off.

  “I’m Dean Parker, and we seek your assistance on a dire matter,” I said, letting the translator work. For a moment, I thought it might not be working properly, but as we closed in on the four-legged being, he spoke to us.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here.” His words repeated through my earpiece.

  We closed in on twenty meters, and I finally had a better look. My first thought was of the fantasy books I’d read as a kid, the ones with centaurs: men on the top, horses on the lower half, but that wasn’t quite right. His legs were clothed, and his torso sat directly in the center of the four legs. He wore gray pants, his shirt white, long arms extending past his waist almost to his knees. He had no tail I could see, and his face was flat, with bulging round eyes and a slit of a nose. His mouth was a small oval, and it scarcely moved as he spoke.

  Two circular ears jutted from the top of his head. They wiggled when I spoke to him. “We came seeking Hanrion. Is that you?”