Xiantha (The Ammonite Galaxy Series, Book 3)

Chapter Two

Chapter 2

GRACE COULD FEEL her limbs, so she knew that she still had to be alive, but the rest of her floated in a disembodied and unsatisfactory way in some tumbling area of nothingness. She forced heavy and unresponsive eyes open. Something was very wrong. The atmosphere all around her was of a bluish-purple colour, and swirled so thickly that she could see no further than her hand. And she was in free fall; if there was gravity pulling her downwards there was no planetary surface counteracting it. She must be floating in some huge gas giant, she guessed with a swirl of utter panic.

 Her eyes began to burn as the atmosphere bit into the organic tissue, and she hastily shut them again. She held her breath, but already her lungs were refusing to listen to her brain. They were bursting with the effort. She wondered what on Sacras had happened. Where was Arcan? She couldn’t last out much longer here. Her eyes were two burning spots of pain in her face. She mustn’t breathe . . . mustn’t breathe . . . must—

Her lungs overrode her instructions, tried to take a breath, and she felt a deep hot pain rack through her as something which was not oxygen raced into her lungs. She gasped, a solid band of metal appeared to take hold around her, and blackness took over, pressing down on her chest as if she had been caught in a vice and toppling her over into unconsciousness. The last thing she remembered was the coldness of metal suddenly appearing beneath her cheek as she spiraled into oblivion.

SHE WOKE UP inside the space trader. Her throat felt sore, and she was too unsteady on her feet to stand up.

“Wha—?” Her mouth tried to form the word, but had lost its definition, opening and closing slackly.

“Grace? It’s all right. We are on the ship – the Independence.” Six’s welcome voice sounded rather rough, but otherwise unscathed. “Relax. Arcan transported us inside the trader as soon as he realized that the atmosphere was poisonous to us.”

“D-Diva?”

“—Is fine. She was the first of us to come round, while you were out for the count. She is getting us something warm to drink.”

Grace struggled into a sitting position, and began to massage her temple. “Ow! Have you got a splitting headache, too?”

“’Fraid so. Seems to be the side effect of whatever the atmosphere of this planet is made of.”

Grace glanced out of the rexelene observation visor, which showed a purple glow, but no visible planet. “I . . . I . . . I feel sick,” she managed, before matching actions to words.

Six jumped back hastily. “Diva! Come here quickly! Grace needs you.”

Diva’s footsteps made their way from the galley to the bridge, and then stopped. “Thank you, nomus. What makes you think I will be any better than you at cleaning this up?”

“You’re a girl, aren’t you?” Six spread his hands.

Diva tapped one foot against the floor, ready to dispute the implication, but then realized that Grace was feeling very poorly and decided to leave the argument for another time.

“I never thought I’d see the day!” she muttered, as she grabbed a cloth and began to clean up after Grace.

Six grinned cheerfully. “Nor did I, your worshipfulness!” Then he took a step back at the fierce look he received, and withdrew prudently. “I’ll go and finish the temaris tea.” He took care not to come back until he was quite sure Grace was all right again, and all the physical signs of her distress had been cleared up.

“And Arcan?” Grace gasped finally. “Do we know if he is all right?”

“No. We know nothing.” Diva applied a clean damp cloth to Grace’s brow. “But he must be, mustn’t he, because he managed to get the Independence here, and us inside it.”