I glanced at Basra in alarm. As someone who usually appreciated a good offer, I wasn’t sure how he could pass up one like that. Even as someone who claimed to have everything.
But the rifle didn’t waver. He only said, “I’m not interested in godhood, I’m afraid.”
I released an unsteady breath and shook my head at Rubion. “I don’t know what you think this is, but it’s not godhood. No one can do what I’m doing for long. I don’t know how I’m still alive. You’re an idiot if you think—”
“You’re an idiot if you think all I want to do is play with fire,” Rubion said, tossing his head at me in dismissal. “Your abilities are only a stepping-stone to something greater.”
I blinked, too surprised to be angry. “To what?”
“The portals.”
Now Basra blinked. “Impossible.”
Rubion’s eyes grew even brighter now that he had Basra’s interest. “Not impossible. You see, the myth is that Shadow caused the Great Collapse of the portals. But I know the truth. Shadow has something to do with the portals, yes, but quite the opposite of common belief.”
“You’re stalling,” Basra said.
“Wrong—”
“Prove it,” Basra nearly snapped, the pain he was suppressing audible in his tone. “Show me something I haven’t seen yet, because so far, your bluffing is textbook.”
Rubion glanced up at the cameras, and with deft flicks of his wrist, he shot them out with his plasma pistol.
The Bladeguard started. “My lord—?”
Without a moment’s warning, he shot her in the head. His pistol was back against Arjan’s temple and his eyes on Basra before she even finished crumpling to the ground. I jumped in shock, but Basra never flinched, his aim steady on Rubion.
“You asked me to shoot the other Bladeguard, but you probably didn’t expect I would, did you? How does that work for getting your attention? No one to overhear now,” Rubion added, as an afterthought.
Basra hesitated, and my breath caught as he said, “I’m listening.”
“You see, Shadow didn’t collapse the portals. A refined version of Shadow is what ran the portals. Scientists had a special Shadow affinity from working so closely with them for so long, and they were the ones who kept the portals open.”
“You’re telling me…,” Basra said, and couldn’t finish. I could barely complete the thought in my own mind.
Someone with the right knowledge, and the capability, could reopen the portals. Reconnect our galaxy to the rest of the universe. It was an idea that people would kill for, die for. That people would do anything for. And the capability—that belonged only to me, and to Arjan.
I was watching Basra now, almost as closely as I was Rubion.
“We could reverse the Great Collapse,” Rubion said in practically a whisper. A whisper in my brother’s ear, even if he was talking to Basra. “Everything will open.”
The blackness in my vision surged with rage.
Basra raised his head from the rifle a fraction, and Rubion lowered his pistol an equal fraction, his finger relaxing on the trigger.
My hands balled into fists. I didn’t have much strength left, but I had to do something now, especially if Basra—
Basra pulled his trigger and took off half of Rubion’s head—the half farthest from my brother.
Arjan collapsed onto the table with Rubion, but before he could follow him to the floor, Basra shouldered his rifle, leapt over the table, and caught his shoulders. I’d lunged to do the same, but the floor had shifted, making me lose my balance.
Basra shoved Rubion’s body away. “That,” he said, his lip twisting in disgust, “is how you bluff. I told you I wasn’t interested.”
He’d nearly had me fooled. I could barely keep up with him, all that he supposedly was, or even wrap my unraveling mind around the fact that Rubion was dead.
“Captain,” he said, snapping my attention away from all the bodies on the floor that still seemed to be moving, muscles flowing and limbs twitching in unnatural ways. “Can you please find something for Arjan to wear?”
I glanced at my brother and then quickly away. The white towel that had been around his waist had slipped off. I stumbled toward the cabinets lining the room and lurched against the counter. Keeping one hand on it for support, I wrenched open cupboards and drawers until I found a blue medical gown.
Basra had already unhooked all the needles, tubes, and cables from Arjan’s limbs by the time I made it over to them, and he helped me maneuver the gown over Arjan’s shoulders, especially since I had to grip the steel table to keep from falling over myself. I tried to ignore Rubion’s gaping skull at my feet. The half of his face that was still intact seemed to be smiling up at me, torn lips moving as if continuing to whisper his secrets.
The portals…If he’d been telling the truth, that could change everything, change the galaxy…
But Basra was right. Next to Arjan, it didn’t matter.
I still felt useless compared to Basra’s bustle. He checked a miniature infopad he’d untucked from a pocket, scrolling through a list as he maneuvered around the room. Searching through cabinets, he scooped everything from bandages and tape to injectors and glass vials into an empty containment bag. He was assembling his own medi-kit, I realized. Before I could offer to help, he secured the bag over his shoulder with the rifle and bent for Arjan.
We both looped one of his arms around our necks. I tried to avoid touching the wounds in his skin as best I could. They were plastic-sealed against infection, but they still hurt him. He groaned as we hefted him, his head lolling.
“It’s okay,” Basra said, his voice softer, more feminine, than I’d ever heard it. “We’re getting you out of here.”
Our lumbering walk was painfully slow. Basra and I had to drag Arjan between us, and my own legs kept trying to buckle. Sometimes it felt as if Basra were carrying the two of us, if only with moral support.
“Keep going, a few more steps,” he kept murmuring, even while he left his own blood spattered behind us. “We’re almost there.”
We weren’t almost there. We had seeming light-years of hallways to follow, and I didn’t even know what would be waiting for us when we got back. Even if I still had my ship, my crew—Don’t imagine otherwise, I told myself—I had no idea if either the Kaitan or I could actually fly. In spite of the damage she’d taken, the ship was probably in better shape than me. One thruster was entirely down, another nearly there, but between it and the solar sail, we could maybe limp far enough off-planet to engage the Belarius Drive. But I didn’t know if I could fly us that far. And there was no question that Arjan couldn’t.