Winter (The Lunar Chronicles 4)
Seventeen
Kai stared out the window, watching the clouds swirl over the continent below. He sought out the Great Wall snaking across the Commonwealth and smiled to think his ancestors had built something even the Fourth World War couldn’t destroy.
He hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he saw his beautiful country.
He knew the danger he was putting himself in, along with countless representatives from the rest of the Union. He hoped Levana had been truthful when she said she meant them no harm. He hoped this wasn’t about to turn into a bloodbath in which the naïve Earthens made for easy prey.
He hoped, but hoping did little to comfort him. He didn’t trust Levana. Not for a moment.
But this was the only way to give Cinder the chance she needed to face Levana and start her rebellion. Cinder’s success would rid them all of Levana and her tyranny. No more plague. No more war.
Stars, he hoped this worked.
Burying a sigh, he cast his restless gaze around the sitting room of his royal ship. If it weren’t for the breathtaking view of Earth, Kai would have had no idea he was aboard a spaceship at all. The décor held all the old-world decadence of the palace: ornate lanterns and gilt wallpapers and a theme of flying bats carved into the crown moldings. Long ago, bats had been a symbol of good luck, but over the years they had come to symbolize safe travels through the darkness of space.
Torin caught his eye from an upholstered chair on the other side of the room, where he was busy reading his portscreen. He had insisted on coming to Luna, asserting that the Chair of National Security, Deshal Huy, would be capable of acting as head of the Commonwealth in their absence. Torin’s place was beside Kai—for whatever it was worth.
“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?”
“Not so far.” He rubbed his palms on his thighs. “You told the pilots I want to be informed if any ships hail us?”
“Of course. I wish I could tell you they found it to be a reasonable request, but they seemed understandably suspicious.”
“Just as long as they do it.”
“And you’re sure this is a good idea?”
“Not in the slightest.” The ship turned and Earth was no longer visible through the window. Kai turned away. “But I trust her.”
Torin set down his port. “Then I have no choice but to trust her as well.”
“Hey, you’re the one who told her about my second tracking chip.”
“Yes, and I have since wondered if that was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
“It wasn’t.” Kai rolled his shoulders, trying to relax. “Cinder can do this.”
“You mean, Selene can do this.”
“Selene. Cinder. She’s the same person, Torin.”
“I must disagree. To the world, Linh Cinder is a dangerous felon who kidnapped a world leader and instigated a war, while Princess Selene could be the solution to all our problems with Luna. By helping Linh Cinder, the world will think you’re nothing but an infatuated teenager. By helping Selene, you’re making a brave stand against our country’s enemies and doing what you believe is best for the Commonwealth’s future.”
A wisp of a smile jotted across Kai’s lips. “Whatever the world thinks, they are the same person. I want what’s best for Cinder, and I want what’s best for my country. Conveniently, I believe those are the same thing.”
It had been a relief to tell Torin everything—the only person he trusted to keep his secrets. Cinder’s identity, the real reason they were going to Luna, the revolution she planned to start there, and Kai’s role in it all. Though Torin expressed concern that Kai was risking far too much, he hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. In fact, Kai wondered if Torin wasn’t developing a little bit of faith in Cinder as well, even if he tried to hide it behind cold cynicism.
Torin returned his attention to his portscreen, and Kai sat watching through the window, his heart skipping every time he spotted another ship against the backdrop of space.
Hours passed like days. Kai tried to take a nap, to no avail. He read over his wedding vows without comprehending a word. He paced back and forth, and drank half a cup of tea that someone brought him—except it wasn’t as good as Nainsi would have made, which made him miss his trusted android assistant. He’d come to rely on her practical, no-nonsense conversation, but Levana was adamant that no androids would be allowed on Luna, so he was forced to leave Nainsi behind.
He set the tea aside, his stomach writhing with nerves. He should have heard from Cinder by now. Something had gone wrong, and here he was flying an entire fleet of Earth’s most powerful people right into Levana’s clutches and it would all be for nothing and—
“Your Majesty?”
His head snapped up. The ship’s first mate stood in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“We’ve been hailed by the American Republic’s secretary of defense. It seems they’re having technical issues with their ship’s computer mainframe and have requested permission to board and complete the trip to Artemisia with us.”
Kai exhaled.
“The captain suggests we send one of the military escorts to assist them. I’m happy to put them in touch—”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Kai. “We have the room. Let them board.” Though a dozen province representatives and some journalists from the Commonwealth media were already aboard, the ship was nowhere near capacity.
The officer frowned. “I do believe it’s a matter of security, not space. Due to their technical difficulties, we’ve been unable to obtain a proper ID on the ship or its officers. Their vid-comm is also malfunctioning. Our visual of the ship does confirm it as a Republic military ship, Rampion class, but beyond that we’re forced to take them at their word, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind Your Majesty that … your kidnappers were also in a Rampion.”
Kai pretended to consider his point. “The Rampion I was held hostage aboard had the silhouette of a lady painted on its port side. Is there such a marking on the secretary’s ship?”
The officer relayed the question into a comm-chip on his collar, and a moment later confirmed that no such lady was visible. Only black paneling on the boarding ramp.
“There you have it,” said Kai, attempting nonchalance. “We will accept our American allies on board, assuming their podships are in working order. In fact, why don’t I come down to the dock to greet them, as a show of political goodwill?”
“I’ll come as well,” said Torin, setting his port aside.
The first mate looked like he wanted to object but, after an uncertain moment, clicked his heels together and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
* * *
Even the waiting room outside the podship dock was luxurious and Kai found himself tapping his foot on thick carpet while machinery hummed in the surrounding walls. The ship’s captain had joined them, waiting to greet their guests before returning to the bridge, and he and the first mate stood with impeccable posture in their unwrinkled uniforms.
The screen beside the sealed doors announced that the dock was safe to enter.
The captain went first, Kai right behind him. There were six of their own podships waiting, and empty spaces for three more. The Rampion’s shuttle had taken the farthest spot and sat with its engines powering down.