Last Star Standing by Spaulding Taylor

Author:Spaulding Taylor [Taylor, Spaulding]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unbound

22

It was the beginning of a week of readjustment, a week of being mollycoddled, petted, feted and generally appreciated. Martin and Petra excepted, most of the rest of the ranking rebels managed to beat their way to Bully’s door, generally long past curfew, bearing gifts not only edible but emotionally consoling. In short, I was overwhelmed by the kindness of friends.

I ate mightily – maybe too mightily – and in idle moments I attempted to work out, in hopes of building up strength for missions to come. And if, in the middle of the night, lying on Bully’s only comfy sofa, I cursed the King, D. Justin Medlicott and Martin McNamara more or less equally, there was still a growing sense, deep inside, that I hadn’t been permitted to survive for nothing.

I was also showered with congratulations for having created a drama that not even the Xirfell could hide, and also for murdering MF’s body, his mind having been invaded by one of those pus-like, mind-stealing worms that even the Xirfell fear.

Sometimes, when I woke in the middle of the night and watched the clouds rearranging themselves through the window, I found myself mourning MF – sardonic, annoying, real. Without him, would I have kept my sanity underground?

After a week, I was summoned to a council meeting. Though dreading being in the same place as Petra and Martin together, I knew it had to happen at some point, and longed to get it over with.

We arrived separately and in various disguises. (Bully had procured me a zuge-keeper’s suit, meaning that every creature in the world gave me a mega-wide berth.) In the roofless sports centre, we gathered around the remains of a fire. Petra looked flushed, dishevelled and more beautiful than ever. I had to force myself to look away.

Rebel meetings were generally informal. Laurentia chatted with Petra, Tim had a private word with Martin, Priscilla counselled me. But once Martin rapped on the table everyone instantly fell silent. Then he suddenly swivelled towards me. ‘Are you better, Aiden?’

A mission, had to be. ‘Yes, perfectly.’

‘Up for a challenge?’

‘You’ve got something?’

‘Something for you to consider, at least.’

Martin was famously, even repellently, cautious. But what a strange expression in his eyes! Curiosity, doubt, guilt?

I said, ‘Just tell me where to go, and how I can get there.’

‘G9.’

The circle was silenced. Priscilla recovered first. ‘G9!’ she murmured. ‘The King!’

‘Exactly.’

‘But how on earth—?’ demanded Laurentia, just as Martin said, ‘Ho Chi. He’s hijacked a blinguard.’

And how the hell had he managed that? I thought, amazed. Ho Chi ran a rather modest cell up in G6. Younger than Martin and me: scrawny, geeky, clever.

As for blinguards, they were reserved for the Xirfell or their most exalted aliens. The largest ones could circumnavigate the Earth in around ten hours. I’d used to daydream that I was flying one. Imagine the freedom, the power!

Petra objected, ‘But can Ho Chi actually operate it?’

‘He’s done so already, and he’s volunteered to take Aiden to G9. And back, of course.’

I wouldn’t be coming back, I thought.

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