Jeth pulled it out and stared at it, hardly believing his luck. This would let him contact Renford directly. Jeth closed his hand around it, weighing his options once again. Hammer or Renford. Renford was ITA, the most powerful organization in the universe—surely they could track down Avalon. And there was no telling what Hammer might do when he found out how badly Jeth had failed. It was possible he might forgive him, but Jeth doubted it—not if the Aether Project was real. The prize was too big. And Jeth had a feeling Hammer would be able to piece together what happened here, or force the truth out of him.
But calling Renford meant betraying Sierra, Vince, and Cora. The ITA would know they were still alive. Could he do that?
The answer came all too quickly—yes. They had betrayed him first. They’d stolen Avalon.
Firming his resolve, Jeth returned to the bridge where the others had gathered, including Shady, who was sitting on the floor with his back and head resting against the nav station, his arms thrust out in front of him, elbows on knees, eyes closed. A massive black, puffy bruise covered the left side of his face, the eye nearly swollen shut.
“What’ve we got?” Jeth said, scanning their expressions. None of them looked willing to speak. He zeroed his gaze on Flynn.
Flynn fidgeted a moment, then gave in. “The good news is the comm system was easy to fix. Just a couple of loose wires I was able to finagle. It should be coming online soon. We just need to cross over the border to transmit. The bad news is we’ve got two days max on life support. So we better get a hold of somebody willing to come rescue us fast.”
“Well, it seems the good outweighs the bad for once,” said Jeth.
Shady looked up, squinting at Jeth with his good eye. “So, we call Hammer then?”
“Yep,” said Flynn. “Going to be a great conversation, too. He’ll be thrilled when he finds out we disobeyed his order not to board the Donerail, brought the survivors onto Avalon, made plans to betray him, and then got our ship stolen in the process.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Like we’re going to tell him all that.”
“Oh, he’ll know on his own,” said Celeste. “Hammer’s not dumb.”
“No, he’s not,” said Jeth. “And no matter what story we spin for him, he’s going to make us pay for this.” Not that we haven’t paid enough already, Jeth thought. With Avalon gone. A terrible sense of loss made the muscles in his chest contract. He drew a ragged breath.
Lizzie frowned. “But who else can we contact who’ll help us?”
Jeth reached inside his pocket and withdrew the calling card. “Marcus Renford.”
“Are you talking about the guy the three of you attacked on Kordan?” said Shady.
“Uh-huh,” said Lizzie. “He sure is.”
“Well, don’t you think he might not be too happy with you after that?”
“It’s not like we hurt him,” said Celeste, no doubt remembering the way Renford had vanished off the ship, despite the two stunners he’d taken to the chest.
“Right,” said Jeth. “And it doesn’t change the fact that he wanted us to bring him the Donerail. So we bring it to him. Or have him come get it, rather.”
“You think he still wants it?” asked Flynn, looking around.
“Of course, he doesn’t,” said Celeste. “He wants the Aether Project, or whatever it is that Vince and Sierra just escaped with.”
“Maybe,” said Jeth. Or he wants them. “But either way, he might help us in order to get the information we can give him about where they went. I mean, he doesn’t even know they’re alive.”
Shady grunted. “That doesn’t sound like much of a plan. We don’t have any real leverage on the guy.”
Jeth sighed. “I know, but it’s the best one we’ve got for getting Avalon back. If it doesn’t work, we’ll call Hammer. Unless any of you have a better idea.” As he expected, no one did.
A short while later, Jeth piloted them over the border, then inserted the calling card into the comm reader.
With nothing else to do while they waited for Renford to answer, Lizzie huddled down next to Celeste on the floor beside the comm station, the two of them sharing a blanket and body heat. Flynn sat across from them on a pile of pillows he’d gathered from the cabins. Shady hadn’t moved at all.
“So, how long do we wait before we give up?” asked Shady an hour later.
“Long enough,” Jeth snapped, unable to hide his impatience. Flynn patted his stomach. “Would’ve been nice if they’d left us some food.”
“Go take a nap,” said Celeste. “You’ll burn fewer calories and be less hungry.”
Flynn rubbed his arms. “Sure, like I won’t burn them trying to stay warm inside this icicle.”
“I hope they’ll remember to feed Viggo,” said Lizzie. “They probably will, right? I mean, they’re not completely heartless. They could’ve killed us instead of herding us over here.”
“Oh, sure,” said Shady. “They’re real saints.”
Jeth gritted his teeth. If Renford didn’t answer soon he was going to shoot somebody—Yeah, right, using a gun you don’t have. Everything he owned was on Avalon. He’d built his whole life around that ship, only to have a couple of strangers snatch it away.
“It’s true,” Lizzie protested. “They could’ve taken the ship when we first brought them on board.”
“Oh, no they couldn’t,” said Celeste. “They had to earn our trust first. Ain’t that right, Captain?”
“Yeah,” said Shady, turning his one-eyed gaze on Jeth. “How’d Sierra manage to get the jump on you so easy, anyhow?”
Jeth felt a blush threaten to color his face, and he turned toward the comm station. Screw it. He’d just contact Hammer and be done with it. It was better than all this waiting around, wallowing in frustration and guilt. He’d been an idiot. If he’d been less preoccupied with kissing Sierra and more concerned about getting the truth out of her, none of this would’ve happened.
Just as he was about to press the kill switch, the call button started blinking. Someone was finally answering.
Marcus Renford’s face appeared onscreen a moment later. He looked exactly the same as Jeth remembered: thin, with black hair turning to steel.
“Jethro Seagrave,” Renford said, a false smile rising to his lips. “Nice to see you again. Although I’m a bit surprised, to be honest, considering how our last interlude ended.”
Jeth didn’t bother playing nice. He was too cold, too angry, and too desperate for games. “We found the Donerail.”
“I can see that. Judging from your incoming source protocol, I’d say you’re calling from the Donerail.” Renford paused. “But how is it you’re still breathing on a ship that long gone?”
“Maybe because it wasn’t as long gone as you thought. And maybe not everybody on board was dead either.”
“What?”
“That’s right. There were three survivors.”
Renford’s eyes narrowed, the gesture making his face suddenly snakelike. “Who?”
Jeth shook his head, knowing full well those names were the source of his leverage. “First things first. We need your help. We’re stranded just outside the Belgrave. The nav’s down, so not sure where.”
Renford leaned back from the screen. “But where is Avalon?”
“Stolen, by those same survivors. Who I’ll be happy to identify once you pick us up.”