Plando’s human soldiers had a long tradition of tattooing fierce beasts on their bodies. And on Lansen, none was more feared—or more admired—than the polar narwhal. It was strong enough to smash through meters of Arctic ice and surge onto the surface to hunt.
That brutal environment had forged an elite unit as well: the Polar Assault Team, trained at the pole and whispered about everywhere else. They’d adopted the polar narwhal tattoo as their mark. Over time, it became a kind of honor.
“Yes,” Starling said, forcing herself upright. “So you’re Plando.”
Blackfire’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Since you know what the ink means, get up and walk. And if you try anything again, I’ll kill the girl.”
“What’s your goal? Why risk boarding a Tower Clan starship?”
“You don’t get to interrogate me.” Blackfire paused, then added, “But I’ll tell you this—we don’t want to hurt anyone if we don’t have to. You behave, you get us to the shuttle bay, and I let you and the kid go.”
“Then you stop killing people,” Starling said.
Bop chuckled. “Blackfire, she’s trusting us. Cute little thing.”
Blackfire laughed softly. “Fine. I promise.”
***
Carlos found Linneya’s wristband on the stairwell. Starling’s lay nearby.
“Linneya!” he shouted, voice echoing down metal steps. “Linneya!”
Only silence answered.
Now it was real. Something had happened to his daughter.
Years in uniform kept him from freezing. He called the ship’s Security Office to report a kidnapping, then pushed on, taking the stairs downward.
But the stairwell ran deep. More than a dozen levels, each with doors branching into unfamiliar sections of the ship.
With no better option, Carlos picked one passage at random and sprinted into it.
***
At the transfer elevator hub, a man in a public-safety uniform shoved his way through a crowd that was rapidly turning into a riot.
“Everyone, please don’t panic!” he shouted. “Quiet down. I’m the starship marshal for this sector.”
A short, heavyset man jabbed a finger at him. “You keep telling us to follow the boarding manual—where’s your staff? Weren’t we supposed to have guides?”
“We do.” Marshal Victor Vaughn forced a polite smile. “Please wait. She’ll be here.”
He leaned close to the robot at his side. “Iron. Who’s the guide assigned to this cabin?”
“Copy.” The robot’s voice was flat and eager. “Iron has located the record. G37 cabin guide: Starling. ID RZR14793…”
“Patch me through.”
“Please wait… signal unavailable.”
Vaughn exhaled sharply. “Of course. Call Headquarters. Get another guide dispatched.”
“Copy. Iron acknowledges.”
Vaughn turned back to the crowd, raising his hands. “Just a few minutes, everyone. The new guide will be here in five. And please don’t wander—some areas, uh… temporarily have no oxygen.”
Complaints flared immediately, but Vaughn ignored them. He pushed to a stairwell door and slipped inside.
The robot followed. “Marshal, why did you say there’s no oxygen? All areas have oxygen.”
Vaughn shot it a look. “Tinhead, would you rather I say there are murderers on board?”
“Oh.” The robot paused. “Iron understands.”
Vaughn took the stairs at a run. “Notify Headquarters and the guard teams. Suspects escaped the baggage hold and moved toward the G37 passenger section. And pull every camera feed in this zone.”
“Copy. Headquarters notified. Camera scan in progress… mostly normal. Wait—incorrect. Many cameras are frozen. A spy device has been used…”
The robot cut itself off mid-sentence. “New message from Headquarters. A passenger has filed an emergency report. Name: Carlos. His daughter is missing.”
Vaughn’s face tightened. “Damn it. That’s brazen.”
He snapped new orders. “Lock down every bulkhead in the camera-anomaly areas. Call the guard teams in.”
“How many teams should Iron request?”
“All of them.”
Vaughn drew his sidearm and accelerated.
***
Blackfire and Bop marched their hostages through the maze of green algae panels and out a door on the far side.
Beyond it stretched a long corridor. They reached the end—
—and found a bulkhead sealed shut.
“Don’t play games,” Bop hissed, pressing his pistol to Starling’s temple. “Open it.”
“I can’t,” Starling said, fighting to keep her voice even. “It’s locked. It needs higher clearance.”
Bop’s eyes narrowed.
Blackfire looked over his shoulder. “She’s telling the truth. We’ve been spotted.”
He stared at the door like it had personally offended him. “Break through. We need to move.”
“Damn it.” Bop yanked open a wall cabinet, found a fire axe, and hacked at the controls until the bulkhead gave way.
***
Iron’s scan updated instantly.
“Marshal. A door beyond the fifth-level photosynthesis bay has been forcibly damaged.”
“Good,” Vaughn said. “We’ve got them.”
He hesitated only a fraction of a second, then burst out of the stairwell and into the adjacent corridor.
“Marshal, you’re on the wrong level,” the robot warned. “This is level six.”
“I know,” Vaughn said, still running. “I’m cutting them off. Tinhead—what section is ahead of them?”
“Water-recycling bay.”
***
The broken door opened into a corridor with multiple branches, lined with office-like rooms.
Starling noticed something immediately: at every junction, Blackfire would pull out a device like a remote and tap at it. Then the two men would stroll directly beneath the cameras without a shred of concern.
A jammer. Or worse.
She tried to buy time. At each fork she paused, pretending to be unsure which way to go. If she could delay them long enough, someone might catch up.
It didn’t last.
Bop slammed her into the wall.
“Listen, sweet thing,” he growled. “We don’t have time for sightseeing. You either lead, or we leave you behind.”
Linneya started sobbing.
Blackfire reached down, seized Linneya by the throat with one hand, and lifted her off the floor.
Starling’s blood turned to ice.
“Yeah,” Blackfire said, voice calm. “Looks like you didn’t take me seriously.”
“Stop—please!” Starling choked out. “I’ll lead. I’ll. Just—put her down.”
“This is your last chance.”
Blackfire set Linneya down. Her face was dark red; she coughed violently, gulping air.
Starling didn’t dare hesitate again. She moved.
As she hurried, a desperate thought surfaced: maybe they really did just want a shuttle. Let them take it. Let them run. As long as Linneya lived.
Bop smashed open another door with the fire axe.
They entered a chamber as large as the algae bay, but here the space bristled with massive cylindrical tanks.
Water.
Starling took them through the tight gaps between the tanks, moving fast. She was terrified of running into anyone.
They were halfway across when rapid footsteps erupted in the corridor behind them.
“Blackfire,” Bop murmured, “someone’s coming.”
Blackfire cocked his head. “That doesn’t sound human.”
They dragged their hostages behind a tank, each man pinning one girl in place.
A swarm of robot police—badges flashing—poured into the water-recycling bay.
***
Carlos stumbled into the photosynthesis bay.
He saw the bodies.
For a heartbeat he couldn’t believe it. He still couldn’t accept that the moment he boarded the ship, his daughter had been taken.
The algae chamber was huge, with exits branching in every direction. He didn’t know where to run—
Then a gunshot cracked from a corridor ahead.
Carlos sprinted toward the sound.