The Remnant. Laura Nolen Liddell

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       Nine

      The hatch of the Arkhopper popped open easily, and we were greeted by silence.

      The air was cold—too cold—and I suppressed the urge to hang onto Isaiah. As comforting as it would be, it was far better for us both to be ready.

      “Should we … I don’t know. Just start running? Look for a place to hide?”

      “They should be here any minute. We’ll stick around.”

      I shivered. “May I suggest a new plan? Get me away from this airlock before someone flips a switch somewhere and we end up dying in space.”

      “Tell me what you see. And get me out of this strap; I can’t find the buckle-thing.”

      I fumbled around his wrists and legs, keeping my eyes on the hatch. If we were walking into a trap, I wanted to know as soon as possible. Not that there was anything I could do about it. “Okay, it’s dark,” I said in a low voice. “But the airlock opened on both ends of the port as soon as we docked, probably automatically. That’s the last strap—you’re free. There’s a little room on the other end. I guess we should get in there before it locks again. What’s his name? Your friend, I mean.”

      “Her name. An. But I never met her. She was more friends with Adam, to be—did you hear that?”

      I froze. His hand brushed my arm, beckoning me forward, and we slid through the port and into the little receiving room. We were both pretty good at sneaking anyway, but at that moment, we were like silent snakes. My metric was off, thanks to my stint in the Remnant, but it felt like we were in reduced gravity. Maybe it was lower on purpose, to help other visitors adjust to regular gravity after space.

      I was still resisting clinging to him when we straightened out in the dark room and pressed the lock to seal off the Arkhopper.

      “All right, your highness,” I whispered to Isaiah. “We’re here. What now?”

      “They monitor everything. They know we’re here. Be patient.”

      “Light?”

      “If you must.”

      I placed a hand over the lightpad soundlessly, then ended up pressing it a little harder than necessary when it didn’t respond. Finally, I slapped it in frustration, and the lights clicked on. My jaw dropped, then flapped shut.

      We were surrounded.

      Four faces popped into view, each staring openly, and I stopped breathing.

      I gave in to my lesser judgment and reached for Isaiah, speaking to him in a whisper. “So, we’re—”

      “Welcome, Mr. Underwood,” said the man seated directly before me. A woman stood next to him, and the room was flanked on two sides by uniformed guards. “Adam informed us of your change in plans.”

      “Shan,” Isaiah said pleasantly.

      He steadied his arm without forcing me off it, so that my hand was resting in the crook of his elbow. The motion was smooth, as though we’d planned it that way. Like he was escorting me to a waltz or something.

      Like I wasn’t terrified.

      He continued. “May I introduce Charlotte Turner, our newest ambassador. Charlotte, this is Shan Hui, Ambassador to the North American Ark.”

      I cleared my throat. “Uh, they have guns pointed at us.”

      Isaiah’s jaw tightened. “Ah.”

      “Yep.”

      There was an awkward pause while I collected my wits. Well, awkward for me. Everyone else in the room seemed perfectly comfortable, if oddly quiet. The others continued to stare at us, as though taking our measure.

      “I must say, I am surprised to welcome you here in person, Mr. Underwood,” Shan said at last. “May I introduce An Zhao, my assistant?”

      An bowed. “A pleasure.”

      Perplexed, I imitated the motion, looking back to Isaiah for guidance. He appeared pleasantly relaxed, so no help there. I squared my shoulders and met Shan’s eye. After a moment, he stood.

      “You have heard about our little reception this evening. I am pleased to inform you that the Imperial has decided that you should be allowed to state your case.”

      Isaiah nodded. “Good.”

      “I am afraid that, as you are here without permission, you will be detained until your appearance.”

      Neither Isaiah nor I were inclined to respond to that, so Shan motioned toward the door. “If you please,” he said, and we preceded him into the hallway.

      Now, our arms were positioned so that I was leading Isaiah. We couldn’t have choreographed it better.

      Whatever grace I’d mustered up to that moment didn’t last long. As I passed the first guard, he grabbed me by the hips.

      So I elbowed him in the chest.

      “Hey!” said Isaiah.

      “I’m СКАЧАТЬ