Chapter 13

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EVE COULDN'T REMEMBER being happier. Charities across the galaxy were trillions of Currency richer and Nory Glasshand, one of the biggest dickheads in all the New Human Sovereignty, was flat broke. His automated factories and conscripted labor camps across the galaxy were closing, unable to secure proper funding from their boss.

Also, Eve had made Cal transfer ten thousand Currency into each freshly unemployed Glasshand Intergalactic Trading Company (GITC. We'll do the work for you!) employee shortly after they left Earth. It helped put her conscience at ease.

Of course, Cal had insisted they keep a trillion C's for themselves and, after a little bit of arguing, succeeded in persuading Eve. She didn't really have an idea of what to do next. All left on Eve's to-do list was buying a mansion on a nice, lush planet.

Eve was more worried about Cal. Ever since they had met back on Thirst, Cal had been by her side. She trusted him more than anyone else in the damn galaxy. Now that they had accomplished what they had set out to do, Eve had a difficult time coming up with a reason why they should stick together. A young Remnant shapeshifter and a computer-savvy cyborg, now rich beyond their wildest dreams with nowhere to go. Eve smirked. Maybe she would write a series of novels about her life while enjoying her very early retirement.

Eventually, Eve nodded off to sleep on one of the Modesty's cots and dreamed of a falling star.

Eve watched as it fell, streaking bright and orange against the uncaring blue sky. She didn't move from her perch on the doorstep of the house she shared with her father, watching, entranced, as the streak fell to the sandy ground not far from town. The sand beneath Eve's feet shook and shifted.

Eve's father, Jack, emerged from their front door, observing the trail of smoke and vapor left in the streak's wake.

"What was that?" Jack asked, the leathery skin around his eyes crinkling in the glare of Thirst's sun.

"Don't know," Eve said, standing. "Satellite falling from orbit, maybe?"

"Hmm," Jack said. "Stay here. I'm going to check it out."

"No," said Eve, following him back into their house as he searched for the keys to their desert crawler. "I saw it first."

"No, Eve. Could be something dangerous."

"Then why the hell are you going alone?"

"Eveª"

"I'm going, Dad."

Jack sighed. "Fine, but you do everything I tell you to, got it? No risks."

"Yeah, Dad," Eve said. "Of course."

"C'mon, then," Jack said, stepping outside. "Let's go."

"Can I drive?"

Eve sat in the passenger seat as Jack piloted their desert crawler over Thirst's dunes at a steady pace until the crash site came into view. The wreck had obviously been a ship; the duraglass windshield of the cockpit was warped and broken, and the ship's wings were crumpled against its flank like a wounded bird's.

Jack threw the crawler into park but kept the engine idling. He reached into the backseat and grabbed his old bolt-action rifle. "I'm going to check it out."

"Right behind you," Eve said, hopping out of the crawler before Jack had a chance to protest.

They approached the ship, which had flattened a dune and left a trail of debris in its wake. Jack tapped the hull with his index finger a few times and nodded thoughtfully.

"It's not hot," he said. "Must have some pretty serious internal cooling systems. The people in there probably weren't cooked from rapid atmospheric entry at least."

"Good," Eve said. "I didn't think deep fried people were on the menu today anyway."

Jack poked and prodded the ship's hull until he found something which looked like a hatch. He twisted the hatch's handle until it slid upward, the hinges screeching against the recently warped metal of the hull. Jack clambered inside the ship, and Eve followed suit.

The inside looked no better than the outside. Supplies, bits of duraglass, and pieces of metal were strewn about the floor, crunching under Eve's boots. Jack kept his rifle low but ready, and Eve watched him step into the cockpit, where two swivel chairs faced the ship's now-crushed main controls.

"Don't come in here," Jack said. "Bodies in the chairs."

"Got it," said Eve, suddenly queasy. People had died in this crash. She was beginning to regret her joke.

Eve stepped towards the back of the ship, where it resembled more of a living space. Four cots had been bolted to the wall, two of which had been wrenched to the floor. She nearly jumped out of her skin when one of the cots on the ground shifted and was accompanied by a soft groan.

Eve grabbed the cot and rolled it over with a grunt. Underneath was a boy, likely around her own age. His dark skin was bruised and scratched, and one of his arms looked mangled beyond repair.

"Help," the boy mumbled. "Too late."

Eve turned to call for Jack, but the boy reached upward with his mangled hand and gripped her shoulder.

"Eve," the boy shouted, his voice sounding impossibly distant. "Eve! Wake up!"

Eve's eyes snapped open as Cal shook her with his prosthetic arm.

"We've got company," he said. "Better strap in."

Eve jumped down from the cot and buckled herself into the copilot's seat, catching a glimpse of a high-velocity metal slug sailing past the Modesty's cockpit.

"Who's shooting at us?" Eve asked as Cal strapped himself in and took the controls.

"Sovereignty authorities. Looks like they followed us after we left Earth and now they're trying to disable the ship."

"Where are we?"

"Right now, we're" Cal double-checked the ship's navigational data. "We're near some planet called Pil II. They followed us a long way."

"Do they know we robbed Glasshand?"

"I don't know. They must've traced one of my intrusions into his computer."

Eve rubbed her eyes in frustration. She should have known robbing one of the richest men in the galaxy wouldn't have been easy.

"Can you lose them?" she asked.

"Maybe. Hang on one second."

Cal jerked the main steering mechanism sharply to the side and Eve's body strained against her chair's straps. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the space outside the cockpit but was forced to shut them until the ship righted itself.

"Sorry," Cal said. "Had to avoid a missile. You okay?"

"Yeah," Eve replied. "What are we going to do?"

"There's an old Coalition minefield from the war coming up. I might be able to get us through without them on our tail, but it'll be risky."

"Do it."

Eve's breathing quickened as Cal turned the ship from side to side, avoiding mines and missiles. She dug her fingernails into her palms as explosions detonated within yards of the Modesty's cockpit. She wanted to know what exactly was going on outside the ship. She wanted to know if they were going to be okay, but she knew there was a strong possibility they wouldn't. The ship rocked back and forth underneath her feet and then suddenly became still as they exited the minefield, the planet Pil II below them.

Eve slowly opened her eyes and looked over to Cal, leaning back in his seat and wiping his brow. He smiled back at her.

"I think we lost theª" Cal's voice cut off as the Modesty lurched sharply downward.

"Shit! They hit us! We're going down!" Cal retrieved two oxygen masks from the cockpit's emergency compartment and handed one to Eve. "Brace for impact!"

Eve donned the mask and shut her eyes again.