Part 5 (1/2)

I nod.

”And being older . . . you must have been there when the planet was attacked.”

I nod again, slower this time. Sarah's face seems to soften.

”I was on a different s.h.i.+p than the chosen Garde,” I say. ”There were only a few of us.”

”Ella . . . ,” she murmurs, and the name stops my heart.

”What do you know about her?” I ask, taking two long steps until I'm towering over Sarah. ”Have you met her? Is she with Number Four?”

She shakes her head.

”The Mogs took her,” she says slowly.

I swallow hard. ”And Crayton? Did they take him too?”

”Crayton,” Sarah whispers. It takes a few seconds for her to place the name. ”No. I'm sorry. . . . He was killed a while ago. In Spain, right before Ella joined the others.”

The shock of all this must register on my face, because suddenly Sarah isn't looking at me like she's afraid I'm going pull a blaster on her. Instead, she's got a hand on my back and a chair under me before I even realize that I'm sitting down.

”Of course,” she says. ”I should've realized you didn't know. You were on the other s.h.i.+p with them. Oh G.o.d, I'm sorry.”

My hands shake. I wonder how Crayton died-protecting Ella, no doubt. Where could she be now? What might they be doing to her? My hands shake as I try to figure out what to do next.

The Chimra they call Bernie Kosar rubs against my legs in the form of a dog, staring up at me with a long tongue hanging out. His tail drums against the floor.

”I think he likes you,” Sarah says.

I crouch down, looking into his dark eyes.

”I knew many of your kind once,” I say, thinking back to those days that seem so long ago, when Zophie and Crayton and tiny baby Ella and I were all cooped up in our s.h.i.+p with a dozen Chimrae. ”I hope to see more of you again one day.”

He lets out a little whine and licks a salty tear from the side of my face.

”Uh, if it's any consolation,” Mark says, ”it sounds like Ella turned out to be a total bada.s.s? Like, apparently she was at Dulce and caused some damage.”

She was at Dulce. When? How close was I to her?

I wipe my cheek with my sleeve and look over at Mark. He's s.h.i.+fting on his feet, his forehead wrinkled with concern. I think he's trying to make me feel better.

”Yeah, so, anyway,” he continues, nodding to the back of the hangar. ”Maybe you could show us the inside of this thing? I've never been in a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p before.”

I smile a little. ”Keep your eyes open, Jolly Roger, and maybe you'll fly it one day.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

”HOLY s.h.i.+T,” MARK SAYS AS WE STEP UP THE metal ramp and into the s.h.i.+p. ”I mean . . . holy s.h.i.+t.”

”Wait until you see her at top speed,” I say. ”If I can get her to run on Earth fuels.”

”Fingers crossed,” Sarah murmurs. Her eyes are wide as she looks around.

”Superst.i.tion won't get this beauty up and running. I was just putting the finis.h.i.+ng touches on the new fuel line when you two arrived. Let's see if I was successful.”

”You mean we're going to take off right now?” Mark asks.

”No. I'm just going to start up the engines, with any luck.”

He looks a little nervous.

I tap on the instrument panels when we get to the c.o.c.kpit. They slowly flicker on. The s.h.i.+p hums to life around us.

”That seems like a good sign,” Sarah says.

”Here comes the real test,” I say.

I touch a few more of the controls. The s.h.i.+p slowly begins to lift off the ground. Beside me Mark clutches the back of one of the mounted chairs in front of the controls and whispers a dozen curses.

We're a few feet off the floor and hovering inside the hangar when the entire craft starts to shake, then suddenly drops a few inches, causing my two human companions to cry out in alarm. But the s.h.i.+p recovers. It levels itself off until all systems look normal.

”By Lorien,” I murmur. ”I think it's going to work. The s.h.i.+p's running off the fuel line I've installed, plus we have a few days of backup from the charged crystals.”

”That's . . . good?” Sarah asks.

”It's very good,” I say.

I set the s.h.i.+p back down and power off. Mark looks a little shaky on his feet. There's a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

”I think I should probably sit down,” he says.

Sarah touches his forehead. ”His fever's breaking.”

I take them back down and into what used to be the foreman's office when the hangar was still a processing plant. Now it's filled with computer equipment and monitors.

We start to trade information. We learn about each other.

I give Mark and Sarah an abbreviated rundown of my history, leaving out the parts about me using Mark or tracking all of his communications-though, by the look on his face, I'm guessing he's figured that out by now. Sarah gets me up to date on the latest with the Garde, who they are and what Legacies they've manifested. She tells me everything she knows about the Mogs. It's easier to get information now that I don't have to use Mark as the middleman between us or avoid talking about my ident.i.ty. I learn that not only has Malcolm Goode been found, but his son, Sam, has joined the fight. I can't help but smile at this, to know that Malcolm has been reunited with that little boy from outside his office. I can't say that they're safe in the middle of all this, but at least they're together.

I ask a lot of questions about the girl Ella has become and find out that she is a strong, sensitive young Garde. Just the kind of person I imagine Crayton would have wanted her to be. Sarah has spent a significant amount of time with her, and I can tell that she's worried about Ella as she speaks. That she cares for her.

”Everything happened so fast in Chicago,” Sarah says, her eyes looking off into the middle distance. ”Ella was having some kind of vision and then suddenly the Mogs were there. We were overpowered.”

”Mogadorian sc.u.m,” I mutter.

”We'll get her back.” Mark grins a little. ”And we'll waste a bunch of those pale freaks along the way. Ashes to ashes. Dust to-”