The fall was slow at first, gradual, as the pull of the satellite's orbit was
overpowered by the pull of Earth's gravity.
Thorne hiked up his pant leg, using his toe to pry off his left boot. The
knife he'd stashed there clattered onto the floor and he grabbed for it,
awkwardly trying to angle the blade toward the blanket that was knot-
ted around his wrists.
The girl murmured around her gag and shifted toward him. Her binds
were much more secure and complex than his own. The thaumaturge
had only bothered to have Thorne tie his hands in front of him, but this
girl had binds all down her legs, in addition to having her wrists fas-
tened behind her and the gag over her mouth.
With no leverage to press the knife against his own binds, he nodded
at the girl. "Can you turn around?"
She flopped and rolled onto her side, pushing off the wall with her feet
to turn herself so her hands were toward him. Thorne hunkered over her
and sawed at the sheet that was cutting into her arms. By the time he'd
hacked it off, there were deep red lines carved into her skin.
She ripped the gag off her mouth, leaving it to hang around her neck.
A knot of her frayed hair caught in the fabric. "My feet!"
"Can you untie my hands?"
She said nothing as she snatched the knife from him. Her hands were
shaking as she angled the blade toward the binds around her knees, and
Thorne thought maybe it was best for her to practice on herself anyway.
Sawing through the sheet, she looked like a madwoman—her brow
wrinkled in concentration, her hair knotted, her complexion damp and
blotchy, red lines drawn into her cheeks from the gag. But the adrenaline
had her working quickly and soon she was kicking away the material.
"My hands," Thorne said again, but she was already grasping for the
sink and pulling herself up on trembling legs.
"I'm sorry—the entry procedures!" she said, stumbling out into the
main room.
Thorne grabbed the knife and clambered to his feet as the satellite
took a sudden turn. He slipped, stumbling into the shower door. They
were falling faster as Earth's gravity claimed them.
Using the wall for balance, Thorne rushed into the main room. The
girl had fallen too, and was now scrambling to get over the bed.
"We need to get to the other podship and disconnect," said Thorne.
"You need to untie me!"
' She shook her head and pressed herself against the wall where the
smallest of the screens was embedded, the screen that the thaumaturge
had meddled with before. Strings of hair were sticking to her face.
"She'll have a security block on the ship and I know the satellite better
and—oh, no, no, no!" she screamed, her fingers flying over the screen.
"She changed the access code!"
"What are you doing?"
"The entry procedures—the ablative coating should hold while we're
passing through the atmosphere, but if I don't set the parachute to re-
lease, the whole thing will disintegrate on impact!"
The satellite shifted again and they both stumbled. Thorne fell onto
the mattress and the knife skittered out of his grip, bouncing off the
end of the bed, while the girl tripped and landed on one knee. The walls
around them began to tremble with the friction of Earth's atmosphere.
The blackness that had clouded the small windows was replaced with a
burning white light. The outer coating was burning off, protecting them
from the atmosphere's heat.
Unlike the Rampion, this satellite was designed for only one descent
toward Earth.
"All right." Forgetting about his binds, Thorne swung himself over to
the other side of the bed and hauled the girl back to her feet. "Get that
parachute working." She was still wobbly as he spun them toward the
screen and dropped his arms over her, forming a cocoon around her
body. She was even shorter than he'd realized, the top of her head not
even reaching his collarbone.
Her fingers jabbed at the screen as Thorne widened his stance and
locked his knees, bracing himself as much as he could while the satellite
shook and rocked around them. He hunched over her, trying to hold his
balance and keep her steady while codes and commands flickered and
scrolled across the screen. His attention flicked to the nearest window,
still fiery white. As soon as the satellite had fallen far enough into Earth's
atmosphere, the auto-gravity would shut off and they would be as se-
cure as dice in a gambler's fist.
"I'm in!" she shouted.
Thorne curled the toes of his one shoeless foot into the carpet. He
heard a crash behind him and dared to glance back. One of the screens
had fallen off the desk. He gulped. Anything not bolted down was about
to turn into projectiles. "How long will it take to—"
"Done!"
Thorne whipped her around and thrust them both toward the mat-
tress. "Under the bed!" He stumbled and fell, dragging her down with
him. The cabinets swung open overhead and Thorne flinched as a rain of
canned goods and dishes clattered around them. He hunkered over the
girl, deflecting them away from her. "Qui She scurried forward, out of the ring of his arms, and pulled herself
into the shadows. She backed against the wall as far as she could, both
hands pushing against the bed frame to lock her body in place.
Thorne kicked off from the carpet and grabbed the nearest post to pull
himself forward.
The shaking stopped, replaced with a smooth, fast descent. The
brightness from the windows faded to a sunshine blue. Thorne's stom-
ach swooped and he felt like he was being sucked into a vacuum.
He heard her scream. Pain and brightness exploded in his head, and
then the world went black.
YOU ARE READING
Cress
Novela JuvenilTheir best hope lies with Cress, a girl trapped on a satellite since childhood who's only ever had her netscreens as company. All that screen time has made Cress an excellent hacker. Unfortunately, she's being force to work for Queen Levana, and she...
