“Maybe not, but he’s a victim in all this, too.”
“A victim?” Gage snapped, rage burning behind his eyes. “He knows me! Mom let me call him months ago, to tell him about what I created—how Infinium was going to change everything, and how the Solar League paid a fortune for my first batch. But do you think he asked me to come home?” Gage made a noise of disgust. “No. He begged me to bury the project, just like Mom said he would. He told me Infinium would make Spaulding Fuel redundant and ruin the family legacy. When I refused to play along, he stole the batch from the transport. Then he traced our location and threatened to send someone here, either to destroy my research or to steal it; he didn’t say which.” Gage’s voice sounded broken when he added, “I just didn’t know it would be my own brother.”
Doran’s shoulders sank. He had to be reeling with the fact that not only were both his parents liars, but also that the future he’d envisioned no longer existed. Once Spaulding Fuel collapsed, there would be no company to inherit.
“And here you are,” Gage said flatly. “In my lab, looking through my computer. Mom told me you were just like Dad. I guess she was right about that, too.”
“No,” Doran told him. “Dad sent me here, but I had no idea why. I would never destroy your work. The fringe needs it too much.”
“Right.” Clearly unconvinced, Gage flicked his aim at Solara, then at Renny and Kane. “Who are your friends?”
Before any of them could answer, the com-link speakers activated, and Captain Rossi called through their suits, “Time to wrap it up. Cassia found a tracker on the Banshee’s front landing gear. I’m guessing someone on New Haven planted it there to claim the reward for Daro the Red. So far the skies look clear, but who knows how long that’ll last.”
Solara went cold. “We have to go,” she told Gage. “Now.”
“She’s right,” Doran said. “There’s a pirate named Demarkus on the way, and you don’t want to meet him while you’re wearing my face.”
Gage lifted his pistol. “Nobody’s going anywhere. Not until I figure out what to do with you.”
Her pulse hammering, Solara glanced around the lab for a weapon to use against Gage or a way to distract him long enough to make it back to the ship. Her gaze landed on the bag of Infinium ore samples, and she made a snap decision. With one hand, she snatched the bag off the table and dashed out the open doors and into the hall, hoping Gage was smart enough not to shoot her and risk blowing them all into next week.
She heard the stomp of boots and the metallic clang of a bolt sliding into place. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Gage had locked everyone inside the lab. He’d set down his pistol and was pulling on an insulated suit with the kind of speed that prompted her feet to move faster.
While she ran, she stuffed the ore samples in her suit pocket and fastened her oxygen helmet. If she could reach the ship before Gage, she and the captain might be able to disarm him and free the others. She beat him into the air-lock chamber and shut the interior door, then wasted no time in climbing the ladder to the surface. With a mighty heave, she pushed open the top hatch and stepped outside.
Instantly, she froze in place. The pirates were already there.
At least a dozen mismatched shuttles had landed in a circle surrounding the Banshee, whose lowered cargo ramp showed that she’d been boarded. Solara’s heart jumped, and she darted glances in every direction looking for Cassia and the captain. The fact that he hadn’t warned her through the com-link suggested the pirates had captured him.
Or worse.
But there was no sign of the crew…or of anyone.
Gage caught up with her, but she ignored the pistol pressed against her ribs and pointed at the night sky, where a distant moon illuminated the pirates’ tank of a ship hovering just outside the planet’s gravitational pull. She was about to explain when an iron hand settled on her shoulder, and she whirled around so quickly that she landed on her backside. That same hand smacked the pistol from Gage’s grip and sent it flying.
With pain radiating from her tailbone, Solara craned her neck upward to take in seven solid feet of muscle encased in a thermal space suit. She couldn’t hear Demarkus’s voice, but she watched his lips curve in a familiar smile, equal parts charming and chilling. Those lips moved in a phrase she recognized easily.
“Hello, little bird.”