The capsule jostled around her. Jyra rubbed her eyes and felt her stomach churning, forcefully contracting to retain its contents. The darkness of space no longer dominated the view from the porthole. White clouds flashed by as the capsule hurtled toward the surface of a planet Jyra couldn’t see. Almost as soon as she registered the sky, the capsule plunged into a sea of gray vapor that darkened until it seemed as though she were reentering space.
Spatters of rain struck the porthole and turned immediately into steam. Jyra tried to focus on the console in front of her. All the buttons were backlit; some flashed while others held a steady glow. She pushed one marked with an arrow pointing left. Jyra’s right side crushed into the safety harness as a thruster blew the capsule left.
She locked her teeth together as though afraid they might be shaken free of her gums. The rain lashed against the capsule, but the roar of air rose above all other noises. A dull clunking sound told Jyra her water and food were taking a beating in their storage compartment.
Although she knew full well it was necessary to flee the resistance, Jyra couldn’t help but wonder if this had been the best way to do it. Her doubt only increased when a monotonous voice (that showed no emotional regard for the situation) made an announcement above the noise of the falling capsule.
“Surface contact in two minutes. Prepare to fire thrusters and eject parachute.”
Jyra jerked her head down, trying to get a clear look at the console. The capsule vibration worsened, but a few moments after the voice spoke, the buttons stopped flashing, leaving only one control blinking. Jyra pressed it and heard the thrusters bellowing outside. The capsule continued to shake, but the action felt calculated and deliberate.
The moment of relief didn’t last. Although the capsule gained control of itself, Jyra’s body increased its protest. It felt as though her stomach rolled on top of itself from the sudden braking. Mere seconds after that sensation, every organ in her body hammered against her skin from the inside. They struck again and again, all of them desperate and aching. Jyra clenched her eyes closed along with her teeth, waiting for the misery to end.
“Surface contact in one minute. Eject parachute immediately.” The voice had a distinctive edge to it now.
Jyra cracked an eyelid. A different button was flashing now against its static fellows. Jyra had her arms wrapped around her body, hoping they would protect her. She extended her hand toward the button, but became immobilized by nausea. She realized she must be on the cusp of losing consciousness. The capsule lurched forward and Jyra fell with the motion. The harness caught her body, but her arm continued onward and crashed onto the flashing button.
The thruster braking had been nothing compared to what happened next. When the parachute inflated behind the capsule, Jyra’s eyes bulged, the straps of the harness cut deeper into her skin, and her entire skull throbbed; it felt like as though her brain had been slammed through her forehead. For as much speed as the capsule lost in an instant, it may as well have crashed into a wall.
Though the steady vibration had all but disappeared, the ride hadn’t ended yet. While the parachute had served its primary function, the capsule now hung beneath it by cables. The winds of the storm couldn’t get a purchase on the smooth hull, but they began to torment the parachute.
Jyra had to endure swinging back and forth like a pendulum with a bent arm. Parts of the parachute collapsed and fluttered and the capsule continued to fall in a series of haphazard jerks.
“Prepare for surface contact,” the voice said. Except for the howling wind outside, the landing had become quieter and it was easier for Jyra to register the words around her.
Acting on the information was not so easy. Should I unclip and gather what I need? It didn’t sound like a good idea based on what Jyra went through moments ago. The capsule swung ahead suddenly as the wind attempted to fold the parachute in half.
“Ten seconds to landing. Conditions require raft deployment.”
The voice sounded far away. Jyra’s hands shook, but she couldn’t feel them. Her body hurt. She told herself parts of her were unharmed, but all she felt was the pain, the pulsing ache that accompanied every heartbeat.
Her fingers turned inward as she pulled them toward the strap latches. Her nails brushed the release clips and Jyra fumbled to disengage them.
The raft, she thought. Fifteen minutes. Leonick said something about that.
The harness loosened just as the capsule tipped porthole-first onto the surface. Into the surface. A wave broke against the porthole. White froth remained on the glass once the water disappeared. Jyra leaned forward and exterior lights clicked on automatically, blinding her as the white beams fell upon the surroundings.
The capsule bobbed in place, but the wind continued tugging on the parachute. Most of it had settled in the water and currents dragged it under. An air pocket opened in the parachute and it began pulling the capsule across the waves, driven by the wind.
Jyra tried to stand, but the floor rolled beneath her. She remembered Leonick’s words and a feeling of panic joined her physical pain. The capsule was going to sink in fifteen minutes. She needed to get out.
A wave crashed over the inflated pocket of the parachute, at last pushing it out of the wind’s command. The capsule held position now. Despite the pitch of the floor, Jyra could finally stand. The chair was soaked with sweat. She staggered to the locker to retrieve her duffel. It tumbled onto her when she opened the door.
Food and water. She pulled them out of storage near the console. The bundle of food was misshapen; it looked as though the container of water had been bouncing on it repeatedly during the landing.
Jyra tried to sit down on the floor and fell instead. She made to unzip her duffel, but it proved to be as challenging as unhitching the harness. Once she managed to get it open, she tossed the food and water inside.
“Ten minutes to exit the capsule,” the voice reported.
“Raft,” Jyra said to herself. She grabbed the seat and pulled herself upright. “In the locker.”
The door still stood ajar but the locker was empty. She looked for a button on the console but saw none were flashing. Jyra looked in the locker again and noticed a red button toward the back, but it wasn’t lit. That changed when she pressed it.
“Press again to deploy raft,” the voice said. Jyra complied and the button blinked.
Air rushed past Jyra’s face and she tumbled to the floor again as the entire rear of the locker burst outward, opening the cabin to the outside. An orange skiff inflated upon the heaving waves, complete with several running lights, an outboard jet, and two lines tethering it to the capsule. Jyra seized her duffel and crawled toward the locker, gulping the moist and heavy air into her sore lungs. A wave crashed against the capsule and water splashed inside. Jyra pulled herself back to her feet using the locker door for support. She eased into the locker as another wave broke on the threshold, drenching her feet in icy water.
Jyra slipped and fell out of the capsule into the skiff. She clutched her duffel to her chest, despite the pain and tried to sit up. Roiling clouds of steam rose from the capsule, lit up by the bright lights. The hull had to still be cooling from passing through the atmosphere. Jyra realized the skiff material might melt against the capsule. The thought made her sit up, but the designers had planned ahead; metal bumpers kept the skiff away from the warmth of the hull.
Over the howl of the wind, rain, and waves, Jyra heard the voice give its last words.
“The capsule lights point toward a major landmass.”
As though they had been listening, too, all but three lights on the front of the capsule went dark. The skiff was already pointed in the correct direction. Jyra unclipped the lines and began to drift away from the capsule. She secured her duffel in place with another line and crawled to the stern to turn on the outboard.
The rain continued to fall as the skiff rode the waves on its journey toward land. The capsule became lost in the stormy waters and Jyra could only hope that she held the vessel on course. The rain and wind turned her aches into bruises and stiff joints. She kept one hand locked onto the tiller and the other clutched to the side of the skiff.
As she crested another wave, she saw lighter clouds sitting on the horizon. They weren’t much different than the forbidding black thunderheads high above, but Jyra suspected they were hanging low over land.
She was so focused on the wide swath of cowering clouds, Jyra didn’t realize the wave breaking under the skiff until it was happening. The vessel fell onto the rushing water that surged upon a sandy beach. Jyra killed the motor and stumbled forward, eager to leave the skiff. She grabbed at her duffel before remembering she’d tied it in. Another wave crashed nearby, setting the skiff afloat again and swirling around Jyra’s waist. The knot in the line wouldn’t give.
Summoning what strength and concentration she had left, Jyra wrenched the duffel open, found Dario’s dagger, and slashed the line and skiff with one stroke. She pulled her belongings free as air hissed out of the vessel. It washed off the beach, already half deflated as Jyra shouldered her duffel and, keeping the blade in hand, staggered up the beach.
*
Jyra woke up, feeling the moist earth beneath her. Her cheek rested on her duffel and her fingers were still wrapped around the dagger. The sky was bright and free of clouds. Jyra stared at it through trees she had never seen before. Their green leaves shimmered in the gentle breeze. Lichen, still saturated with rainwater, grew in patches on the trunks.
Jyra locked her arm to push herself off the ground, but she couldn’t do it. If the pain had been excruciating before, it had at least doubled overnight. She remained on her back, feeling like a bug that had flipped over and couldn’t right itself. Jyra let go of the dagger and, with great effort, opened several buttons of her shirt. A quick glance showed a pattern of bruises on her body left by the safety harness. It brought to mind the lattice-top pies her mother used to bake when she had enough fruit for the recipe.
Jyra fought thinking about her mother. It wouldn’t serve her well here. She had to get moving, but she couldn’t even sit up. Her body almost felt lighter. Her hand found a small rock in the damp grass. Jyra picked it up and rotated it in front of her face.
The rock was smooth and tinged with blue hues. Though it felt comforting in her palm, Jyra tossed it toward a tree. The stone sailed through the air and landed in the grass. Its performance set Jyra to searching for another rock to throw. The next stone arced from her hand and hung just a moment too long before plummeting.
Jyra found something to distract her from the pain. She still had to ease herself up cautiously, but from a sitting position, she was able to find more stones. It took launching a dozen more pebbles for Jyra to convince herself it wasn’t an illusion caused by her weariness. The gravity was weaker here than it had been on Tyrorken.
The moment she came to the conclusion, Jyra heard something moving in the underbrush. She grabbed the dagger and turned around, crouching behind her duffel, her muscles tense and alert. A woman stepped out from behind a tree and looked right at Jyra.
“There you are,” she said, as though she and Jyra were playing hide-and-seek. “I figured you’d be somewhere around here. My name is Eldred. I’ve come to help you.”
“How did you find me?” Jyra said, wondering if this woman carried a weapon.
“We noticed your ship,” Eldred said. “We’ve had some trouble pinpointing unmarked vessel locations recently, but obviously we had yours narrowed down sufficiently.”
Like the voice in the capsule, Eldred’s high, familiar tone seemed entirely at odds with both the wild surroundings and Eldred herself. She was dressed in an olive green jumpsuit with matching gloves. The color brought TF to mind at once. She had a wide smile that seemed to distort the rest of her features; her nose flared and her eyes bulged. Her eyebrows were almost comically arched as though they desired to climb into her blond bangs. She took several steps closer and Jyra lifted the dagger into view, which made Eldred pause. Her smile faltered momentarily, but she recovered quickly.
“Why did you find me?” Jyra said.
“As I said, I’ve come to help you,” Eldred said. “You’ve been out here all night. I imagine you could use some dry clothes and a warm meal, maybe even a proper bed. There’s no need for weapons. I have none.”
She raised her hands from behind her hips to indicate she had nothing to hide.
“Who do you work for?” Jyra said. Eldred’s answers did nothing to put her at ease.
“A care center,” Eldred replied.
“That sends envoys into the wilderness to assist lost travelers?” Jyra said.
“We care,” Eldred said.
“What if I refuse to go with you?”
“You’ll die,” Eldred said. Her tone remained the same.
“Is that a threat?”
“No,” Eldred said. “However, as a trained professional, I can tell those bruises on your chest must be painful.”
Jyra pulled her shirt collar closed with one hand and glared at Eldred, who continued to smile, though her eyes narrowed with concern.
“Tell you what,” she continued. “If you can stand up on your own right now, I’ll turn around and walk away. Can you do that?”
Jyra bit her lip and her fists tightened. Never in her life would she have thought she couldn’t do something so simple, especially when challenged by someone as obnoxious as Eldred.
“If you can’t stand up, you can’t survive out here,” Eldred said. “That’s an ocean behind you. An ocean of salt water. Drinking from that would be one of the quicker ways to die.”
“Stop talking,” Jyra said. “I suggest you walk away now or I guarantee you won’t survive out here.” She raised the dagger higher.
Eldred strode forward faster than Jyra would have thought possible. She seized the duffel strap and shouldered the bag in one smooth motion, keeping herself out of stabbing range.
“Put down your blade and come with me,” Eldred said. “Please. I would hate to die in the wilderness alone. I’m sure you would, too.”
Jyra realized she had lost. If she didn’t comply now, Eldred would leave with her duffel, everything she had left.
“Fine.” Jyra couldn’t help wincing as she stuck the dagger into her belt. “Help me up.”
*
The two women walked through the trees, Jyra clinging to Eldred for support. Eldred had tried to make conversation, but Jyra was too busy clenching her teeth and fighting to ignore the pain of her wounds to respond. She had plenty of questions, but was in no condition to ask them. Eldred resorted to babbling words of encouragement every few minutes, which only annoyed Jyra further.
“Nearly there.” “Keep it up, you’re doing great.” “We’re almost back to the ship.”
“What planet is this?” Jyra finally gasped, interrupting Eldred’s insufferable commentary.
“Silanpre,” Eldred replied.
Jyra’s head was spinning again or maybe it never stopped. Whatever trauma she had experienced during the landing, the walking made it worse. The name of the planet reminded her of something. It had to do with the resistance, but Jyra wished she could forget. The automatic process of trying to summon the mental connection wasn’t worth the effort.
“Stop,” Jyra breathed, groping for a large fallen tree nearby. Her free hand scrabbled at the decomposing bark and she leaned on the soft moss.
“Are you all right?” Eldred asked, taking a seat next to her.
“No I’m not all right,” Jyra snapped. “As a trained professional, you should be able to tell.”
“Several bruised or cracked ribs at least,” Eldred said, nodding. “The clearing is just ahead and then you can lie on a proper bed while on the way to the care center.”
“Will you…could you just drop me off in some town?” Jyra said. “I’d like to adjust to this planet before I get treatment.”
“By the look of you, you’ll have plenty of time to adjust to Silanpre,” Eldred said. She set Jyra’s duffel on the forest floor and stretched her arms upward. Then she leaned toward Jyra and gave her arm a gentle pat.
“You have nothing to worry about. Silanpre has the best medical centers in the Kaosaam System.”
The last phrase echoed in Jyra’s mind and she remembered Berk saying almost exactly the same words.
The sound of a cracking stick distracted both women.
“What was that?” Jyra asked, hoping her confusion masked the surge of anxiety building beneath her bruised chest.
Eldred slid off the fallen tree and took several steps in the direction of the noise. A gunshot shattered the silence of the forest. Jyra let out a strangled cry of surprise and toppled to the ground, moaning from the pain of yelling and falling. A rush of adrenaline gave her the strength to stand and she clung to a branch for support. Another woman appeared out of the forest, her large handgun held steady in her outstretched hand.
Her long hair was as dark as her clothing. She wore a black tank top and black trousers. Eyeliner ringed her brown eyes. Jyra thought the woman might be about her age, but a dry gasp redirected her attention.
Eldred lay sprawled on the ground, facing the sky, all traces of her smile gone. She hyperventilated as her hands prodded around the growing bloodstain on the chest of her jumpsuit. The shooter rounded the far end of the fallen tree and aimed her gun at Eldred.
“Hunting for another prize?” she sneered at Eldred, then glanced at Jyra. “Almost got away with it, too.”
“Please,” Eldred wheezed. “Help me.”
“I know of plenty of hospitals eager to have you as a patient,” the shooter said. “I’ve tried their care before so trust me when I say I’m doing you a favor.”
Eldred raised her palms toward the gun, but the second bullet passed through one of her hands and Eldred screamed.
“Do you need help out of here?” the shooter asked Jyra, tucking the gun into her belt.
Jyra nodded, too stunned to speak or resist. The shooter picked up the duffel and offered her other arm to Jyra. The underside of her wrist moved out of shadow and Jyra saw a tattoo there that looked familiar.
The two women walked past the one who lay dying. Jyra didn’t look back, but she heard Eldred’s words in her head: “I would hate to die in the wilderness alone.”