“It’s a better plan than trying to run,” Chris says quietly. “Think about the way the aliens have been attacking us. They know what makes us weak—which means they probably share the same kinds of weaknesses. ”
It’s not hard to be weak compared to an attacking ptero, but the aliens’ interest in Phydus does make me think that Chris is right.
“I don’t know. . . . ” Dad starts to pace again.
“You don’t think the aliens are watching us?” Chris says angrily. “They are. They’re just toying with us at this point. Waiting. If we try to run, they’ll mow us down. Our best bet is to be aggressive—they won’t expect that. Do something, anything, to buy us time. ”
Dad glowers at Chris. I don’t think he’s used to having someone younger boss him around, especially not someone under his command. But whatever Chris has said is starting to crack through Dad’s doubts.
“I think we should stay too,” I add. “We’ve got a mountain to one side—probably not going to be attacked from that angle. They’ll come from the front, and at least here we have stone walls to protect us. ”
“Against weapons that can explode a steel shuttle,” Dad points out, but he’s softening to the idea.
“Better than nothing,” I counter. “Look, they hate us. They want to kill us. There’re more of them, they have more supplies, and we have nothing. I’ve got five bullets in my gun. How many do you have?”
Dad frowns, and I know I’ve hit on his biggest worry. If we run, we can’t defend ourselves. We just have to hope we can outrun them.
“We can’t fight. We can’t run, not really. We have to hole up here, where we at least have access to fresh water and the possibility of surviving an attack. ”
Dad snorts, a bitter facsimile of a laugh. “Survive?” He looks around at the old, dusty, yellow stones of the building. “That worked out well for the first colony. ”
Chris looks grim, and for a moment my father almost seems to regret what he’s said.
I brush the little pile of torn purple petals into the palm of my hand. “This
is the best chance we have,” I say. “It’s our only chance. ”
56: ELDER
“What?” Bartie says so loudly that it hurts my ear.
“I’m in a shuttle—not the same one we launched from Godspeed, a shuttle from Centauri-Earth—”
“How the frex did a shuttle get on Centauri-Earth?”
“Look, it’s a long story, but—”
“What the frex are you talking about?!”
“Bartie! Calm down!”
“The frex ever! You’re in a frexing shuttle? And you’re here?!”
I grin. “Technically, yes. ”
“Technically? The frex is going on?!”
“Bartie, listen. I took a shuttle from Centauri-Earth—never mind how I got one, just listen—and I came up here. I’m right outside. I can see Godspeed. I’m almost close enough to nudge it. ”
“Frex!” Bartie exclaims. I would give anything to see his face right now.
“Now here’s the tricky part,” I continue. “I have a sort of tube thing that I need to connect to the ship. It’s not exactly designed to go to Godspeed, but I think I can make it work. ”
“How . . . ? Elder, are you serious?” Bartie’s voice is filled with incredulity.
“Very,” I say. “You make sure the area around the hatch at the pond is clear. I’m going to see about the tube. ”
I disconnect the wi-com link and make my way from the bridge to the boarding chamber, which, according to the maps and diagrams on the wall, should have an automated connector I can use to get to Godspeed. My feet echo down the hall, and I feel very alone here.