Page 24 of The First Spark
Despite the constant whining and the passengers griping about being roused at five in the morning, tension hung heavy in the perfumed air. The crew who knew the truth about the delay were silent and motionless, bracing themselves for the hell about to descend. Ancel guarded the front doors with both hands braced on his pulser; Nova lacked her usual cheer as she dealt with shouting guests in the corner. Crea was lounging at a table with other dancers. A few nervous passengers huddled in groups, murmuring furtively.
No sign of Hannover.
He glanced at his chrono. Five-sixteen. Stotz and the Feds were a minute late.
With a hand braced on his pulser’s grip, Zane stared at the door and waited.
The chrono ticked by, and they didn’t appear. He relaxed his grip. Maybe it was already over. He didn’t want to think about what that meant for Hannover, yet he couldn’t help but hope Stotz’s absence meant the rest of them were safe.
He glanced at Ancel, who was as rigid as a board. Ancel grimaced and nodded.
Zane’s hands grew slippery on his pulser.
No such luck. They were coming.
As if the rest of the hall could sense it too, the crowd fell silent. Even the old man barking at Nova about his missed flight to Carik’s victory rally shut his mouth.
The doors buzzed. As they slid open, shouts of confusion and fury thundered through the hall. The older elites were silent and stoic, but the younger ones, those less blinded by loyalty to Carik, hugged their families close.
A young man whirled on Zane and unleashed a string of curses.
He clenched his jaw.
“My apologies for the delay,” Stotz said. “This is just a routine check. Admiral Krii happened to be passing by and wanted to make sure things were in order. His men will be scanning your chips, then they’ll be leaving.”
Zane cringed. Stotz was going to get himself killed, taking that sharp tone with Krii.
Krii stepped in front of Stotz, folding his arms and surveying the crowd. “Your captain is right. This won’t take long if you cooperate.”
He gestured to his black-armored troops, mostly human men with assault rifles crossed over their dark breastplates. They fanned out to cover the exits, lowering tinted blast shields over their heads. Zane swore under his breath. Three dozen men. Krii meant business.
“These men will be checking your identification chips,” Krii continued. “If you could line up in front of them, I’d greatly appreciate it.”
No one moved. No one spoke. Most froze with shock and affront on their faces, clutching at their jeweled handbags and fur-lined coats as if the idea that such a thing could happen tothemwas unthinkable.
Zane nearly snorted.
Krii’s lip curled as his hand drifted to his holstered pulser. “I suppose, if necessary, we could do this by force. And if you don’t want your ID scanned, we can start making arrests.”
They bolted to form lines, trampling over extravagant chairs and falling table decor. A man clipped Zane’s shoulder as he barreled past him. Zane marched towards Ancel and Nova, who huddled at the middle of the furthest line. Snippets of hushed conversations drifted past him as he sidestepped weeping socialites and dodged the older passengers spoiling for an argument.
“You do understand,” a man said to a legionnaire, puffing his chest out, “that my family personally contributed a million credits to the Prime Minister’s campaign…”
“Good for you,” Zane muttered. These people were idiots.
He tried to cut through the line between him and Ancel, but a woman glared at him. Scowling, he trudged to the back of the line, which stretched to the furthest marble wall.
Icy fingers clamped around Zane’s wrist, and he froze mid-step.
He didn’t want to turn, but he did anyway.
Smudges of mascara ringed Hannover’s bloodshot eyes. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to—the fear on her deathly white face said enough.
Zane pressed his lips together. She needed help, and once upon a time he’d stood in an enlistment office and pledged to help those who needed him. He could save her. Otherwise, Carik’s men would find her, have their way with her, and kill her.
But he’d tried playing the hero for someone before, and she’d ended up dead in his arms. He’d nearly died with her.
She hadbeen worth his life. Hannover wasn’t. He’d already lost too much to her family.
