“Not anymore,” Callum said.
“Why? What’s changed?”
“We got intel just before I left—they finally got around to appointing a new High Priest. A guy called Temperance Hatcher.”
Tannis shook her head. “Never heard of him.”
“Unsurprising, as he’s kept a low profile, which the Church were more than happy to allow him to do—he’s hardly the caring face of God. The man’s a fanatic—makes Fischer look a real sweetheart in comparison. And he hates the Collective.”
“Can they take on that space cruiser?” Tannis asked.
“Probably not,” Rico answered. “But they might keep them distracted while we slip away.”
Callum sank into a chair where he could still view the monitor. He got up almost straightaway, as his butt hurt like hell, and caught a grin on Tannis’s face. He leaned one shoulder against the wall instead and studied them.
They were all so calm. They must have known The Endeavor could utterly destroy them, but no one had panicked.
Long ago, he’d been a fighter pilot in the British Royal Air Force, before the Earth had become unstable, and he’d left on board the Trakis Seven. He remembered the sensation of going into battle, the calmness that had taken over, the sense that he was immortal and nothing could harm him. Now he really was just about immortal, very nearly impossible to kill, and he’d all but forgotten the feeling.
When they had finally accepted that the Earth was dying, they’d put a plan in motion to try and save humanity. It had taken twenty years to bring to fruition, every resource directed toward developing the technology they would need to survive. Wars had broken out as it became clear that not everyone would be saved, and he’d seen a lot of action toward the last days. He’d loved the adrenaline rush; facing death every day made him appreciate life.
In the end, twenty-four ships had left the Earth, named the Trakis One to Twenty-Four, each carrying ten thousand people. Most were kept in cryo, with just a small crew awake to monitor the ship’s systems. There had been other crews, ten in all for each ship, and when the crew became too old to function the next was awakened—enough, they reckoned, to last five hundred years. Callum had been the tenth and last captain on the Trakis Seven, and he’d been ten years into his captaincy when they’d finally come upon what was to be known as the Trakis system.
In the previous five hundred years, they’d encountered no planets that would maintain human life. They’d lost contact with twelve of the ships early on, after they’d separated. Three others had been destroyed by unexplained explosions. And the Trakis One had been lost in the black hole that guarded the system. The others had all landed safely—except for his—on whatever planets were deemed habitable, the planets taking the name of the ship that landed. He’d been allocated to what was now known as Trakis Seven. Coming in, he’d realized something wasn’t right and tried to abort the landing, but the planet had sucked them in and they’d crashed.
And the rest was history.
“They’re within range,” Janey said. “I think they’re communicating, but I can’t pick up the frequency.”
“Looks like that Corps ship is still focused on us—we try and leave now and they’re going to shoot us down. Come on,” Rico urged. “Shoot each other.”
As if they were listening to him, a series of volleys blasted from the Church’s lead ship. They hit The Endeavor on the rear end, with no visible effect. For a moment, it looked like they would ignore the offensive, but shots came again in a longer blast and finally, The Endeavor swung around and laser fire flashed from her guns. The smaller ship dodged, then came back straightaway, firing a continuous round of blasts, most of which hit their target but bounced harmlessly off the surface. Still it must have riled Captain Harris, because he returned fire, his attention diverted from The Cazador, at least for the moment.
“Hey, that Church guy’s good,” Rico said. “Beautiful. Let’s get out of here—nice and slowly—and hope no one notices us.”
Skylar stood to give him room, and he punched in a new course. They peeled away and headed slowly in the opposite direction. Callum narrowly resisted the urge to tell them to hurry up.
Finally, as the ships grew smaller in the monitors, Rico punched El Cazador’s main thrusters and she shot forward. After a few minutes, he glanced up. “So we still heading to Trakis Two?”
“I have no clue.” Tannis turned to Callum. “Well?”
He nodded. “I have a rendezvous there in a couple of days.”