By Suzie Anne
“Come on!” I tug C4t3rp1ll3r’s arm as footsteps thud down the corridor from both directions. “If you escaped that video game only to be killed before I learn your real name, I’ll never forgive you. Even though you saved Alice.”
Saving my little sister won’t override dying five minutes after they escaped.
“It was only because you were outside helping us, Charlotte.” C4t3rp1ll3r’s grin morphs into a frown, but he follows me into the maintenance passage. “I thought you said this is a Le’Aftdihn ship.”
“It is. But it’s a command vessel—anyone on board without a Le’Aftdihn mark will be imprisoned. At best.”
“Even Cymocians?”
“Especially Cymocians.” Doubly so with the attack Alice and I overheard them planning. I shake the memory away and return to C4t3rp1ll3r’s question.
Confusion momentarily overrides my fear, and I pause and glance back at him. “How long were you in that game?” A bang echoes from the corridor, and I start back down the passageway. “Never mind. All that matters is getting you off this ship before you’re seen.”
“Why?”
“Five years ago, Cymoc’s crown prince disappeared. They blamed our visiting general and ambassador, who also disappeared. We’ve been at war ever since.”
C4t3rp1ll3r drops my hand and stumbles back a step. “We’re at war? Wait…” His fingers tunnel through his hair, tightening to a fist. “I’ve been gone five years?”
My gaze snaps to him, cataloging his features. Blue eyes. Black hair. And… a birthmark peeking out from his shirt collar. The birthmark. Just like the crown prince’s. “You—you’re . . .”
“Crown Prince Joel Sterling. Of Cymoc.” Seconds pass in silence. “I need to talk with Wh1t3Qu33n… And Chestac…” His fist loosens, and his hand falls to his side. “Everyone who was trapped in the game.”
I nod and grab C4t3rp1ll3r’s hand.
Except he’s not C4t3rp1ll3r.
“Sorry, Your Highness.” I drop it, flushing.
He smiles and extends his hand. “You don’t have to distance yourself from me just because I’m a crown prince—and I’d much prefer you call me Joel.”
My cheeks heat further, but I take his hand, and we continue down the cramped passageway as I send Alice a message over my wrist comm to take the others to our room. “Do you think they’re the missing officials?”
“Probably. Wh1t3Qu33n and Chestac appeared soon after I was sucked in.”
“Were you trapped by your fleet commander?” A thrill rushes through me, though I don’t know if it’s from the danger or my first real-life, non-game mystery. “Our spies reported that he detained our officials.”
“How does a Le’Aftdihn citizen know that?” C4t3rp1ll3r’s tone conveys his raised eyebrows.
A nervous laugh escapes. “I’m the daughter of a space commander. As chief commander of the fleet, Father receives regular updates, and all official orders come from him.”
“He consults you?” His eyebrows vanish beneath his hair.
“N-Noo. But being cooped up on this spaceship for much of my life, with diplomats and royalty who prefer not to interact with children, I’ve discovered lots of hidden passageways, some of which may overlook meeting rooms. And have holes that allow curious children to…stay abreast of ship news.”
A laugh breaks free from C4t3r— Joel, relaxing me a little.
My comm dings, and I glance at Alice’s reply. Rerouting to our room.
***
Wh1t3Qu33n is pacing when we exit the maintenance corridor into my room, but she halts once the door closes. “You said those of us with Le’Aftdihn marks could talk with Commander Gering.”
Joel steps forward. “Ambassador Scarlett?”
“Y-Yes?” She falters back a step. “Who are you?”
“Crown Prince Joel.”
“Fleet Commander Asa said you’d been killed!” A wide-eyed Chestac joins Wh1t3Qu33n.
I stare hard at both of them, and the familiar video game avatars morph, matching pictures of the missing Ambassador and General Devlin. My eyes slip shut for a moment, overwhelmed, but when I reopen them, the change remains.
They are the missing officials.
The others crowd around, exchanging stories, haltingly at first, then faster and faster. Excitement fills the room as each person connects their entrapment back to Cymoc’s Fleet Commander Asa.
Alice and I retreat to the edge of the room, and I’m content to watch from the sidelines—until what Alice and I overheard a week ago flits through my mind again.
“Did Father say the bombing attack on the Cymocian palace was in one week or two?” Despite keeping my voice low, the room still falls silent and every gaze turns toward us.
“One.” Alice’s eyes round with terror as I spin to Joel.
“We have to go now!” I grab his hand and dart to the door. “Ambassador Scarlett, we need you, too—Alice, run ahead and find Father. Do whatever necessary to ensure we can see him.” Cymoc is too far to warn Joel’s family in time.
We must convince Father to cancel the attack.
Determination and fear pulse through me as we thunder down the hallway, our mission too urgent to creep through the maintenance corridors. We reach the command deck in record time, Alice darting ahead as we push past soldiers and officials.
The metal doors to the communications center click shut just before Alice reaches them.
“Daddy!” A soldier steps forward to shoo Alice away as we skid to a halt, but Joel blocks him.
“I am Crown Prince Joel of Cymoc. I must speak with Commander Gering at once.”
Everyone freezes. The doors begin sliding open, and several soldiers step forward, blasters raised. Ambassador Scarlett and General Devlin flank Joel, motioning them back.
Father appears in the doorway, shock widening his eyes as he looks at the three of them. “Crown Prince Joel?”
“Yes, Commander.” Joel inclines his head.
Father’s gaze shifts between the three of them. “Ambassador Scarlett? Devlin?” Ambassador Scarlett bows while General Devlin salutes.
“Davis.” Father’s voice is firm, though questions fill his gaze.
“Aye, sir?”
“Call off the bombing raid.”
Several moments pass, then, the comms crackle. “Bombing raid aborted.”
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Loading...ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Waaaaait, you’re telling me that politicians disappearing… is a… bad thing??