The Planet Thieves (18 page)

They were going to do it.

They were going to land on the cube, easy as pie, and plant the explosives. Then they'd take off and wait for a pickup. The ruined gate would surely scatter the Tremist from Earthspace. Mason was already grinning, his fear forgotten.

Until he realized the jetpacks weren't slowing them enough. The gate was growing much too fast now.

“Manual override!” Mason screamed. “Slow down!” He squeezed his fists and pumped his arms back, like he was elbowing someone behind him, and felt himself slow a little more. The gate was just in front of them, the surface shimmering weirdly. He felt the shield as they passed through: there was resistance, like stepping into a vertical wall of water, and then they were inside. Stellan had been right.

“I can't slow down!” Merrin yelled. She was pumping her arms back, but the jetpack wasn't responding, not like Mason's and Tom's.

Mason was still a hundred feet from the cube when Merrin hit the surface. Her pack gave a bright burst of reddish light, and she spun sideways, cartwheeling off the cube and into space.

 

Chapter Twenty-six

“No!” Tom screamed.

“Hold on, Merrin!” Mason said as he touched down feetfirst. He felt the power in the cube under his feet, the deep vibrations as the thousands of moving parts did what they were designed to do.

Merrin didn't cry out, didn't scream, she just tumbled, her thrusters firing wildly, pushing her up the side of the cube, into the moving forest of metal. At any moment, a piece could swing up and bat her into space, or split her suit wide open, or just kill her through blunt force trauma.

Mason pushed off the cube vertically, following her.

Tom called after him, “Let me! You have to plant the bomb!”

But there was no time. Mason saw how fast she was moving, and knew he could catch her, but only now, only if he went at this exact moment. Tom groaned in frustration, and Mason knew he was following hard on his heels.

“Just get it done!” Merrin told them both. A piece of the gate sprouted under her, tossing her sideways, and she bounced across the top of the cube, where so many parts were extending and flipping upward.

Mason flew around the top corner of the cube, controlling his thrusters with as much focus as he could muster. It was a nightmare: thin poles swung back and forth, shooting out, making connections. Merrin bounced off many of them, but none could catch her, or slow her down much. Mason gave another burst of speed by extending his hands, and skimmed over the top, praying the moving ground under him wouldn't suddenly spring up and out. It was like swimming above a thousand sharks, waiting for one to bite you in half at any moment. He reached Merrin halfway across the top, grabbing her wrist, where her suit was thinnest and easiest to hold on to.

“Gotcha!” he cried, then felt a little silly. Merrin was giggling, though. The girl was laughing with the maze of flying metal all around them, like it was some kind of game, or just training.

“Well, you took your time,” she said flatly.

“I got held up,” Mason replied.

Tom zoomed up behind them and eased to a stop, ducking his head under a moving piece of gate. Mason couldn't see the circumference of the gate now. It curved up and out of sight in both directions, hundreds of miles across now, maybe thousands. But the dozens of Tremist ships around them were plainly visible, close enough to see lights behind their windows; if the three cadets had been noticed, Mason figured they were safe here: firing upon them now would risk damage to the gate, assuming Tremist weapons could even get through the shield.

Tom grabbed on to Merrin so Mason could set the bomb. He pulled it off his thigh and knelt on the gate. Up here he'd have to work fast: the pieces were moving so quickly it'd be hard to arm the bomb before it moved away. Even now, as Mason stood atop the cube, he felt himself dropping inches, as pieces slid out from under his feet. The cube was shrinking rapidly.

“Hurry!” Tom urged. His voice was giddy with the same thing Mason felt: the nearness of victory. They could plant the bomb and the
entire
Earth would be saved. Yeah, they'd be getting medals for this mission.

Mason was on his knees, about to secure the bomb, but movement caught his eye. Above them, a Hawk was coasting toward them, just one hundred meters away, now fifty. It came to a stop, blocking out half the sun. It was the king's Hawk, no doubt. Mason's blood would've frozen if not for the temperature regulator inside his suit.

“Um, how much longer?” Tom said.

“Don't mean to rush you!” Merrin added with a shaky laugh.

Mason gave a snarl of frustration and prepared to remagnetize the bomb.

But then a door opened in the bottom of the Hawk, and four Rhadgast dropped through the bottom like falling stars.

 

Chapter Twenty-seven

The three cadets were now deer in an earthen forest, running from wolves. Mason held Merrin's hand tightly, too tightly maybe, but he couldn't risk letting her go, not with her ruined thrusters.

“I'm dead weight, let me go!” Merrin said, voice harsh in his helmet. “They won't hurt me!”

“Yeah,
that's
gonna happen,” Tom replied.

“They do seem friendly,” Mason added.

All around them, purple bolts of lightning crackled across the surface of the cube, chasing them. For a brief moment, Mason hoped they would short out the gate, but then realized the ESC engineers would've accounted for something as simple as an electrical strike.

The bolts hit Mason too, but his suit was insulated. He still felt the heat from each blast, and the hairs on his body standing up. A temperature warning in his helmet began to beep, and sweat dripped onto his faceplate. He swam left and right, over and under poles, as the floor shrank away beneath them. They had two gloves themselves, but what chance did they have against four Rhadgast?

Merrin tugged at Mason's arm, her ruined thrusters making it harder to pull her along.

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “I can't control it!”

Mason risked a glance behind and was rewarded: as he watched, a Rhadgast was batted into space by a pole across the back of the legs. It sent him spinning away, executing backflip after backflip. Then another was pinned between two moving poles. It was perfectly silent, but Mason could imagine the scream as the Rhadgast arched its back unnaturally, arms flying out. The poles separated, and the Rhadgast floated like dead space junk.

That left two, which was two too many.

They were nearing the end of the cube now, on the other side. Nowhere else to go. “Just plant it!” Merrin said. “I'll try to hold them off.”

“She's right,” Tom said, zipping past them over a tangle of metal and under a rising arm. “We have—” Tom was cut off as a pole swung up suddenly, batting him into space much like the first Rhadgast. The blow to his chest knocked the wind out of him, the explosion of breath making Mason's ears ring. Tom spun through space, thrusters trying to compensate for his crazy trajectory. “Just do it!” Tom gasped. “Plant them, Stark! I can regain control!”

So Mason did. He slowed himself, and spun hard, extending his hand and firing his glove at the two pursuing Rhadgast. The Tremist wizards were ready, though, and met him with their own volley, as Merrin joined in. Purple lightning danced over the surface of the cube, rising and falling, curling, thick violet veins that writhed in silence. The tendrils met and wound against each other and built a kind of wall between them, blocking the Rhadgast from view behind a web of bright light.

Mason slammed the bomb down and pressed the button to make it stick, all while keeping his glove up. Heat began to build in his hand, and he saw Merrin next to him, half-crouched, braced against the lightning. Mason reached down to arm the bomb—it was only a single button he had to press, helpfully labeled ARM—but as he did, the piece of cube he'd adhered it to shot away into the darkness, taking the bomb with it.

It was gone.

 

Chapter Twenty-eight

There was nothing to do now but fight. Mason and Merrin continued to trade lightning with the two Rhadgast, who were coming closer all the while. The floor continued to sink, until it was thin enough to see over the edge, to see how flat it had become. Soon there'd be nothing to stand on, and the cube would be a circle.

The forest of metal was nearly gone, too, as the poles found the places they were supposed to go, and went there. The gate stretched and curved up to either side of them; many of the Tremist ships were now inside the enormous hoop.

Mason sweated inside his suit, not wanting to give up. But there wasn't much time left. Soon the Rhadgast would overpower them, and the fight would be done. The pieces slid under his feet, again and again, until they were standing on a thin, flat square. Soon that broke apart too before the Rhadgast could reach them; it split in half, throwing the combatants in opposite directions. The wall of lightning sputtered and broke, the remnants crawling over Mason's suit. He tumbled away, grabbing for Merrin's arm, the big blue Earth flipping again and again past his vision.

“Gotcha!” Merrin said this time, grabbing on to Mason's arm with both hands. The Rhadgast floated in the distance. Halfway between them, the gate finished sliding together, becoming thinner and thinner as the pieces telescoped out. Now it was just a flat line, much too large to even see the curve to it, though Mason knew it was there. The gate was now a hoop as big as a planet. Mason watched it complete itself and finally stop moving.

They drifted in space; the Rhadgast didn't seem interested in them now that the gate was safe. The two wizards swooped away to collect their fallen comrades. Mason and Merrin passed through the shield again—that stepping through a wall of water feeling—and into open space.

“It's okay,” Merrin said, tears in her voice. “We tried.”

Mason couldn't look at her. Trying wasn't enough. Nobody rewarded you for trying, only winning. They had failed, and now billions would pay.

“It's okay…” Merrin said again, more to herself, it seemed.

Tom jetted over from above, having regained control. Together, the three of them held on to each other and didn't speak. After a minute or so, the Hawk returned, hovering over them, and Mason knew they would soon be captured—they would become the prisoners of war he once meant to free. Maybe Susan was still on the Hawk, alive and waiting for him.

The gate began to spin, slowly at first, almost too thin to see, as if someone had drawn it with an ancient graphite pencil. It gave off a faint, white-blue glow. And it wasn't just spinning, Mason noticed; it was moving, drifting almost, toward Earth.

The Hawk was going to pick them up, but Mason wondered if running out of air was preferable. Then he saw that neither thing was likely to happen, at least not right away.

As he watched the moon, it suddenly took on a strange texture—black specks against the ashy gray surface. A moment later he realized what he was looking at.

The ESC had crossed into Earthspace simultaneously. Half a hundred ships, with engines and weapons bristling bright.

The whole fleet was here, and ready for battle.

 

Chapter Twenty-nine

The blackness of space lit up with the sizzling light of hundreds of particle beams, all of them centered on the bottom of the spinning cross gate. But the ESC had created it well—they'd clearly learned from the last time the Tremist blew up a gate, so many years ago. It was the most powerful shield Mason had ever seen, or heard of. Yet the ships were manned by soldiers, and soldiers didn't give up—they kept their beams burning, probably well past the point hundreds of alarms would be screaming inside the ships.
Warning, warning, overheating may lead to a hull breach, which could result in loss of life
.

Long seconds passed, and the shield sputtered and sparked, but held. It was so bright Mason had to look away. Whatever fail-safes the ESC had built into the shield had been stripped; they
should've
been able to turn it off with a command, but the gate seemed to fully belong to the Tremist now.

And as the three stranded cadets watched, the first of the ESC ships was destroyed in a puff of blue-white light. It was a country-class vessel like the Egypt. Then another ship was destroyed, this one a spark of orange-yellow light, with a fireball that lingered despite the lack of oxygen. Still the ESC focused their particle beams on the gate, ignoring the Tremist ships that swarmed around them like bees. No, like sharks—with pairs of giant jaws clamping shut from top and bottom.

Mason watched it dispassionately, the weight of the outcome crushing his feelings until he was just … switched off. The ESC would either win out, or they wouldn't, and there was not a Zeus-banished thing he could do about it.

From the cluster of ESC ships, he saw the SS Egypt break away and swoop toward them. Jeremy must've locked on to their signal; he'd come back for them.

Tom gave a victory cry, but it sounded halfhearted. The gate still held. There would be no victory until it floated in pieces, spiraling apart in random trajectories.

“Will they break through?” Merrin asked. Though she wasn't really asking.

“I don't know,” Mason replied automatically.

The Egypt dodged a few Hawks that gave up their pursuit when they realized the Egypt wasn't a direct threat to the gate. Soon the ship that had been their home the last two weeks hovered above them. The same door opened in the bottom, and they used their remaining thrusters to fly inside. Once gravity and atmosphere returned, Mason hurried to the bridge with Tom and Merrin, putting on his stolen armor along the way.

When they entered the bridge again, the gate was still whole.

 

Chapter Thirty

Mason retook command of the Egypt in time to see the end of the world.

He stood on the bridge with what was probably the first crew of cadets to ever see battle, to ever run their own ship. If it happened before, it wasn't in any of the lore books at Academy I.