Slow Burn (33 page)

“There’s no one of consequence on Rilla Alley,” said Risciter.

“I suppose you wouldn’t think so,” said the man with the blaster.

Ariana had made it to her ship. But now she was faced with another problem. She couldn’t get on board unless she lowered the ramp. Lowering itself wasn’t a problem. She had the keys in her pocket. But if she did that, it would be noisy, and that would let everyone know she was here. But she didn’t have any other options, did she? That man was going to shoot Risciter if she didn’t do something. She got out her key and pushed a button on it.

The ramp lowered to the ground slowly, making a low whirring noise.

The man with the blaster looked around the room, startled. “What was that?”

Risciter didn’t hesitate. He took his chance and made a break for it, running up the ramp of his own ship.

The man with the blaster opened fire, squeezing off loud, bright shots at Risciter.

But they went wide, hitting the hull of his ship, and Risciter was safely on board.

The man with a blaster ran after Risciter, heading for the ramp.

But the ramp was being raised.

The man jumped and grabbed onto it, his feet dangling off the ground. He must be trying to stop it from closing.

He couldn’t. He was no match for the machinery. He let go, landing on the ground, surveying the pilot and valet. “Can he fly the ship without you?” asked the man with the blaster.

“I believe so,” said the pilot. “Please, if it’s not about us—”

“Damn it!” roared the man with the blaster.

Sure enough, Ariana could hear the ignition sequence on Risciter’s ship beginning. He was going to take off. He was going to escape! Ariana felt relief wash over her. But it was short lived. She was still stuck in the docking bay with the man with the blaster. Terrified, she scrambled up the ramp to her own ship.

“Hey!” yelled the man with the blaster. “Who is that?”

He’d seen her. Ariana dove into her ship, struggling with her key to close the ramp after herself.

She wasn’t quick enough. The man with the blaster appeared inside. He slapped the light switch on the wall so that he could see her face. And she saw him too, for the first time. He was young. His eyes were huge, fringed with long, brown lashes. But his face was hard. “Miss Gilit,” he said. “Here to save your beau, I suppose.” He pointed the blaster at her head. “Get off the ship.”

Ariana had never had a gun pointed at her head before. She froze. She couldn’t make any noises except a sort of strangled moan in the back of her throat.

In the distance, she could hear the ignition sequence of Risciter’s ship shift into high gear. He was moments from taking off.

“The bastard’s going to get away,” said the man with the blaster. “Now get off the damned ship.”

“It’s my ship,” said Ariana in a tiny voice. “I think you should get off.”

The sound of Risciter’s ship was a high-pitched whir. Ariana could also hear the roof of the docking bay lifting up to let the ship out.

The blaster was in her face. “Off!”

Ariana started down the ramp. She could see that the exit door was closing after the pilot and valet. She looked up and saw the stars of space above her through the open doors of the docking bay. The only thing that was protecting her from the cold vaccum at this moment was a force field, and that would be lifted at any second to let Risciter’s ship out. She darted back up the ramp. “The docking bay’s open to space,” she said. “You kick me off this ship, you’ll kill me.”

“Damn it all to hell,” said the man with the blaster. He hit a switch on the wall, next to the lights. It closed the ramp. “Well, I guess you’re coming with me, Your Ladyship.”

“Coming with you where?”

“After Risciter, of course. He’s not getting away that easily.” The man with a blaster yanked her to her feet and dragged her to the small bridge of her ship.

Nigel Ricter, the Duke of Tramet, cursed as he watched the two ships burst into the sky above the spacedock. Tramet had finally found Keirth Transman, after a search that had taken decades on and off, and he was fairly sure the boy had just blasted off into space, out of his reach. He’d been so sure he had him, when he discovered the boy was working for the duke of Hallon. Tramet had left his own planet in pursuit immediately.

But he’d been too late. Perhaps he’d spooked the boy. He’d asked the butler at Hallon’s estate to get a message to Keirth, but Keirth hadn’t returned to his place of employment. Tramet had tracked the speeder Keirth was using to the spacedock. Now the boy was gone. How he was going to find him again, Tramet didn’t know. But he seemed to be following the Duke of Risciter, and Risciter could be tracked. At least Tramet hoped so.