Jordan (8 page)

“Is something wrong?” she asked as she gave the last bite to George.

“Those objects seemed… familiar. I’m just trying to remember…” Jordan opened the cabin door for her. “We should head back
to the bridge.”

She supposed centuries of memories might be difficult to process. The idea of living so long boggled her mind. Jordan claimed
he’d been around since before the time of King Arthur. Yet he seemed so vital, alert and sharp.

Not to mention passionate. The man knew how to please a woman. Knew how to please
her.

Sex with Jordan had been the most savage of her life. The most exciting. And ever since Jordan had come to the cabin to find
her, she’d been much too aware of him. Could the Staff be affecting her from a distance? Or was it simply human nature to
be aware of the man with whom she’d had such magnificent sex?

As they strode onto the bridge, she tried to tell herself that it was natural to dwell on what had happened between them.
That it was natural for them to share private conversations over a meal, considering they were cocaptains. If she’d been male,
he might have brought food, stayed for a conversation.

But he wouldn’t have dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief.

Again, she shoved the thought away.

Lyle showed Jordan the completed inventory list on his handheld. “Do you realize we’ll be out of food in a week? Knox didn’t
even have the sense to ration. And you”—he glanced from Vivianne to George, who was licking the last crumbs from his whiskers—“are
feeding a dog?”

Jordan looked up from the inventory and frowned. Years of business had taught Vivianne to play with the big boys. She could
handle the likes of Lyle.

She picked up George and tucked him under her arm. “Did
you
eat a whole burger?”

“Everyone did.”

“Well, the dog had some of mine. So back off.” She didn’t mention the bites Jordan had fed George, or the one Knox had fed
him, either. Breezing past Lyle, she slid behind the captain’s console, set George to one side of the monitor, and began a
systemwide diagnostic check.

Gray came over and scratched George behind the ears. “The engines seem to be all right, but let me know if the readings fluctuate
more than one percent.”

“Will do.”

“Are communications back online?” Vivianne asked Tennison, since he stood behind the com station.

Jordan put a hand on Lyle’s shoulder. “Your organizational skills are excellent. So why don’t you work out a food schedule?
And then perhaps you can help with assigning quarters to everyone.”

Vivianne shot Jordan a thankful nod, went back to work, and tried not to think about how he kept surprising her. Whether in
his arms or in his presence, there were levels to the man she’d never imagined.

Lyle slid behind the weapons console and booted up a screen. At least he couldn’t do any harm. No weapons had been loaded
onboard.

Tennison scratched his bald head. “As far as I can tell, the navigation system is up and running, but…”

“But?” she prodded.

Tennison’s voice was tight. “I can’t find Earth.” His head wrinkled from his forehead back to the crown. “I’m not even sure
we’re still in the Milky Way Galaxy.”

Oh… God. That wasn’t possible, was it? Her mind couldn’t even calculate how many light-years away from home they might be.
Her hands shook, and she clenched her fingers on the console so no one would notice. They might never see Earth again.

Gray must have overheard the conversation. “Tennison, see if the computer can backtrack our path.”

“I already tried that. The attempt crashed the system. Sean’s trying to reboot it.”

Jordan’s tone was calm. “There are too many possibilities for the computer to handle.”

“Why can’t we just turn around and go back?” Lyle asked, his tone high-pitched and nervous.

“Because when the ship opens a wormhole,” Vivianne answered, “we have no way to tell where that wormhole will take us. And
once we’re through the wormhole, it closes behind us.”

Lyle’s face turned ashen. “Are you saying we’re lost?”

A disaster is an opportunity to sail with a dangerous wind at one’s back.

—C
HINESE PROVERB

F
ind us a planet.” Jordan strode to the viewscreen and paced.

“A planet?” Lyle asked. “Like, just any planet will do?”

“We need food. It doesn’t grow in space. Ergo, we need to find a planet to restock our supplies.” Jordan pressed the intercom.
“Everyone please come to the bridge.”

A few minutes later the crew had arrived, and Jordan addressed them. “You’ve all heard that Earth may be attacked by the Tribes.”

“Aren’t those just rumors?” Knox asked.

“Intel from Pendragon and Honor say otherwise.” Jordan’s gaze went to Vivianne. “You’ve seen reports that the Tribes have
the Holy Grail?”

“Yes.”

“The
Draco
was built to recover the Grail. If we don’t succeed, Earth will fall.” Jordan’s gaze went from one person to the next. “I
know you people didn’t volunteer. But now that you’re here, I hope you’ll agree that despite the danger, we must all do what
we can to save Earth.”

“We aren’t trained,” Lyle protested.

“No one’s trained for this,” Tennison argued. “Count me in.”

Gray didn’t even look up from his monitor. “Whatever it takes to save Earth.”

One by one, everyone agreed. Even Lyle.

“Thank you for your support,” Jordan said, ending the meeting.

“What exactly do you want us to do?” Darren asked.

Jordan stared at the stars on the screen. “For starters, work together to find us a planet with food.”

Several crew, including Knox, left the bridge, their expressions determined and hopeful.

Gray hovered over his console. “What parameters should I plug into the search engine?”

“A planet with atmosphere and gravity similar to Earth would be best,” Vivianne suggested, placing George under a console,
where the dog curled up and promptly went to sleep. “One with water.”

“A planet that’s close enough for the
Draco
to reach within three days without reentering hyperspace,” Jordan added.

Vivianne scanned the diagnostics she was running. “Why a planet only three days out?”

“In case the first world turns out to be a dud, we’ll still have time for a second try,” Jordan said.

Lyle threw his hands in the air. “I vote we search for Earth, not hunt for food on some strange world where the natives may
decide to eat
us.
”

Jordan eyed the man coldly. “The
Draco’
s not a democracy. If you don’t hunt, you don’t eat. And if you don’t obey orders, I’ll shove you out the nearest airlock.”

A few of the crew chuckled.

Lyle opened his mouth. Jordan raised an eyebrow.

“Understood, sir.” Lyle’s face reddened. He ducked his head and walked off the bridge.

Jordan wondered where Lyle had gone to sulk. He also wondered exactly what Vivianne had been doing in the captain’s quarters
before he’d arrived. Vivianne had told him she’d tried to send a message to Maggie, but had she also tried to contact anyone
else? Perhaps someone on Pendragon or Honor? Had she told him the truth? Although she’d settled down, he knew better than
to think she trusted him.

With Lyle’s departure, for a long minute or two an awkward silence fell over the crew. Then Sean strode onto the bridge, Darren
behind him. Darren held out a scanner. “I’ve got that cargo inventory you asked for. Want me to download it?”

“Yes, please,” Vivianne answered. “You find anything useful?”

“That depends how you define useful.” Sean vibrated with excitement.

“Star charts?” Vivianne asked.

“None.”

“Food?” Darren guessed.

“Nothing edible.”

“What did you find?” Jordan asked.

“A first-aid kit.” He held it up. “Vitamins and spare clothing, which I left in the hold. And”—Sean broke into a wide smile—“three
spacesuits.”

“What?” Vivianne exchanged a long, surprised look with Jordan. “Those weren’t due for delivery for another two weeks. Good
work, Sean.”

“Lyle found them.” Sean still looked pleased at the compliment, and his grin widened. “I’ve already checked them out. They
hold pressure and air. Would you like me to go outside to see if we’ve sustained any damage?”

Before Jordan could answer, Gray’s monitor beeped. “I’ve got three possible planets. Want me to post them on the overhead?”

“Yes, please,” Vivianne answered.

“This one is closest.” Gray pointed at a world with four continents and a polar ice cap. “The planet’s similar in gravity
to Earth. Ditto for distance to the sun. We can probably breathe the atmosphere, but the oxygen’s thin.”

“Maximum magnification,” Jordan requested. All four continents on that world were black, the sea brown.

Gray switched the visual. “These two planets are in the opposite direction and share a solar system. The smaller one’s only
land mass is one icy and mountainous island in a planet of blue seas. The air’s breathable, but the weather seems extreme.
I’m currently counting five class-ten hurricanes and another building off the southern hemisphere. The last world in this
system is larger, colder, with lots of ice, but still within our parameters.”

Vivianne looked at Jordan. “What do you think?”

Gray’s jaw dropped as he listened through his headset. “There’s also a planet four days out. They’re sending a message. I
wish I had a universal translator.”

“I have one,” Lyle said as he returned to the bridge.

Jordan also had a translator, as did Vivianne, who used it for frequent talks with Pendragon and Honor, though she hadn’t
mentioned it. The tiny machine under the skin in his forearm was new technology that had recently made it to Earth from Pendragon.
The subcutaneous device translated language. All the regular crew would have had them, but unfortunately Vesta’s engineering
team didn’t usually have much use for anything beyond math and science.

Lyle started to don a headset, but Jordan signaled for Gray to put the sound through the speaker system.

The alien language came through intelligible and shrill. “Turn back. Any craft attempting to enter our atmosphere will be
shot down. Turn back. Any species—”

“Turn it off,” Jordan ordered and thrummed his fingers on the console.

“Do they know we’re here?” Vivianne asked.

Gray shook his head. “I think it’s nondirectional. Like a buoy at sea. Anyone within ten light-years would hear it.”

While Lyle translated the message for the crew, Vivianne sighed. “They really don’t sound friendly.”

Jordan made up his mind. “Head to planet number one.”

“The one with the black dirt and brown seas?” Tennison asked in surprise.

Gray’s fingers moved over the console. “Course laid in.”

Jordan double checked the readings and gave him a thumbs-up.

“Engines engaged,” Gray said.

Jordan knew the crew would be happier with an explanation. “We need food. Since we’re alone out here and the
Draco’
s not armed, I’d prefer not to knowingly fly into hostile territory. So we heed the warning and stay away. That leaves us
three choices: “Tempest,” the bad-weather planet; “Frigid,” the cold one; or “Shadow,” the dark one. On Tempest those hurricanes
could rip us apart. And Frigid’s temperatures are less likely to produce food. That leaves Shadow, the dark world. Any questions?”

“If we can’t breathe the air on Shadow…” Lyle’s voice trailed off.

Jordan folded his arms over his chest and kept his tone neutral but firm. “It’s borderline breathable. And we have spacesuits.”

Tennison shot Lyle a thoughtful frown. “We’re going to have to make hard choices, and we need to stick together.”

“Of course.” Lyle laughed, his look sly. “Jordan’s real good at sticking to her. Or should I say sticking her?”

Vivianne went white. But she compressed her lips and lifted her chin.

In the year he’d worked for her he hadn’t heard or read so much as a whisper of gossip about her private life. Not even in
the scandal sheets.

“Lyle’s losing it.” Gray gestured for Darren to open the first-aid kit. “Are there any tranqs in there?”

“Believe what you want,” Lyle sneered. “I saw Jordan and Vivianne going at it in the engine compartment.”

Jordan punched Lyle in the jaw, wishing he could have done it sooner to shut the man up. Lyle’s eyes rolled back in his head
and he sagged, then collapsed to the deck. At eighty percent gravity, he didn’t fall as hard as he would have on Earth. But
one punch and Lyle was out cold. Hell. Jordan would have enjoyed hitting him again. And again.

He didn’t care that Lyle’s wife had cheated on him and that he believed any other couple who were enjoying themselves deserved
his rage.

Vivianne came around her console, her fists on her hips. “Damn it. Have you killed him?”

“Who cares?” Jordan scowled, then forced his face to go stoic. But it pained him that she would worry over a man who’d just
insulted her. Because he knew what the accusations had cost Vivianne.