Page 39 of The Last Hope
She hesitates between helping Court and aiding Mykal.
I adjust Court against my chest. Tall and a little muscular, but I’ve carried heavier artillery into my combat jet. “Go,” I say.
“No,” Mykal chokes. “Franny, stay with Court.” He struggles to a stance. She won’t let go of his wrist.
Humans.“Look at me,” I tell Franny sincerely. “I need you three alive. I’m taking him to the sick bay where he needs to be treated. You both should come. I reckon that’s a win-win for everyone.”
She nods tensely but only shifts her grip to his palm. She’s holding his hand, but it offers me room to step out of the pool.
I climb out.
Mykal keeps his distance, taking a knife from his boot. “We may share the same pa…” He aims the blade at my eyes. “… but you hurt even ahairon his head, I’ll be gutting you inside out.”
Yeah, I can’t die.
Today is not my deathday.
But I enjoy my intestines inside my body. I nod. “Follow me.”
I head toward the silver drapes, and Franny is slack-jawed in shock before she passes beneath the archway. Surprised that I’m allowing them through.
I have to bring them to the sick bay. The captains will understand.
We emerge into an office for all crew, including high-ranking officials: the captains and the admirals. Instead of a pool, a glossy oak desk is the focal point. A few hardbacks are stacked next to a hologram computer screen. Starry constellations shimmer in gold paint along the dark blue walls.
Franny momentarily ogles the third towering archway. More silver drapes block her view of the courtyard, but as the fabric gusts, I make out the fountain: water lilies entwined in long dark hair, a woman chiseled out of marble. Head raised, eyes pointed to the sky. An effigy of Reva Woncu, a thirty-second-century war hero, has been in theLucretziafor as long as I can remember.
I leave the courtyard alone. The sick bay is accessible from the office, and I hurry to an arched door on our left.
Propping Court more against my body, I free one arm so I can open the door—
“Mykal, you can’t.” Franny panics, letting go of Court’s hand. She restrains Mykal, palms to his broad chest, and I look back.
His eyes are reddened in pure frustration. He growls into a scream between his teeth, battling an invisible enemy. Grappling to move forward… blinking repeatedly.
He wants to hold and carry Court.
Desperately…
“Why are you looking at him?” Franny snaps and waves her hand in my face. Forcing my gaze onto her. “Open the door.”
I whisper under my breath, “As you wish.”
NINE
Court
I wake to a fusion of combative sensations: a dreamy light-headedness, a rank stench of body odor, bare feet pacing on warm mosaic tile, and most clearly, an ass on a hard seat, tingling and sore from not moving, and a knife between coarse fingers: chipping at wood.
Andsmoke,seeping down and scratching my esophagus.
Eyes still shut, I cough lightly. “Mykal.”
“Court?” He plucks something out of his mouth.
I cough again as my gaze opens onto him.
Mykal is hovering over me.
