Page 38 of Alien's Challenge
Faris wrapped his arms around her and threw himself off the bike. They rolled, the cold metal surface searing through her coat.
The surface gave way—no, it curved—and they gained speed. It was an uncontrollable roll off the hull of the ship. He reached out and grabbed a ladder rung.
Suddenly, their momentum ceased. The motorcycle slid past them and over the side, into the chasm.
His legs kicked, trying to find purchase. “Pull yourself up,” he said, the wind nearly drowning out his voice.
The ladder stretched forever. Her muscles would not cooperate.
“I can’t,” she said.
“You can. Do not look down.”
She looked down.
Falsespire grew smaller by the second. Dizziness battled nausea. She didn’t know which would win, but either way, it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Alice, climb,” he said, yanking her attention back to him.
Her stomach churned, but she managed to pull herself up the ladder.
One rung at a time, she coached herself. Slowly, painfully slowly, she pulled herself up.
At the top, she scrambled as far away from the edge as possible.
A hatch opened.
“You’re late,” Faris said.
Faris
Perrigaul appeared pleased with himself, his quills fluffed and perky. “Hello, I am well. Thank you for asking.”
“Stand aside. Let Alice in,” Faris ordered.
Perrigaul disappeared down the hatch. Alice peered over the ledge, then climbed down the ladder. He followed, and the hatch closed behind him.
An old prison transport ship. The interior had changed little in the years since the prison closed. Hard benches ran along the wall, complete with manacles still bolted to the floor. It was a cold, unforgiving vessel, and the leaks around the pressurized seals promised to freeze him to the bone. Still, it was an improvement over the last transport ship he had ridden in.
“Do I want to know how you came by a prison transport ship?” Faris asked.
“I stole it.” Perrigaul slapped Faris on the back, like he delivered the punchline to a great joke.
“You stole a ship,” Faris repeated. He removed his coat and draped it over Alice’s shoulders. He could deal with the cold better than her.
“If they did not want their ship stolen, they should have better security protocols.”
Faris scrubbed a hand along his jaw. “This is what I meant by unnecessary risks. Actions have consequences and—”
“Your message said to come immediately,” Perrigaul interrupted. “Did you want me to travel to the Hub to see if I could coax our ship into the air? And then fly back to Falsespire and scrap your remains out of the gorge?”
Fair enough, Faris mentally conceded, though he would never admit it.
“The tether failed,” he said, grasping onto a fault to complain about.
“Well, it’s a stolen ship. What can you do?” Perrigaul seemed unconcerned that Faris nearly fell off the top of a moving ship.
“Not to complain, but shouldn’t someone be flying this?” Alice asked.
