I thought you might have a plan. Jelena smiled at him.
I’m just along to look at engines. And not get eaten by snakes.
I didn’t know your range was so limited. She headed toward the top of the dune.
Erick scowled after her. It’s not too late for me to comm Leonidas and tell him what you’re up to, you know.
She dropped to her belly and didn’t answer, crawling on elbows and knees to the crest. Keeping her head and body low, she peered over to the other side.
Sighing, Erick climbed up and joined her. It would be a lot easier to sneak up on these ships at night, but he supposed the bomber crews would have taken what they wanted and left by then. What were they after, anyway? Had they gotten word of a particularly fine cargo in the freighter? Or were they just picking on it because they could?
Before, he’d been trying to sense life in the ships. Now, he used his mind’s eye to get a feel for the cargo inside the freighter as he looked down upon the scene with his normal eyes, making note of the people and ships below. The three bombers had landed in a semicircle around the much bigger freighter.
One of the rear thruster housings on the freighter still smoked. Scorch marks raked the sides and top of the hull—its shields must have gone down long before it finally crashed. The placement of the thrusters reminded Erick of legs, and the green paint helped make it look like a big, blocky turtle with a small weapons turret rising from the “shell.” The turret appeared to have been an after-factory addition. It housed a good-sized star cannon. The weapon must not have done much good in the battle. If there was only one person in the ship, he had probably been too busy flying to get up there and man it.
“They forced open the cargo hatch, and they’re going into the ship,” Jelena whispered, her words almost stolen by the wind sweeping across the dunes. She lowered her head as a man patrolling outside the ships turned in their direction. “They haven’t found the pilot yet. I think there’s one person in the corridors looking. And then… three people in the cargo hold? Bringing in lifting equipment and unclamping crates.” She looked toward Erick for confirmation.
Jelena never had as much confidence in her skills as she should. She had more talent than he did, but she seemed afraid to use it half the time.
“That’s what I sense.” Erick started to say more, but the wind kicked up. He squinted as sand scoured the side of his face. There wasn’t any protection up on the crest.
“It’s a turtle,” Jelena said, longing in her voice. “Even better than a pterodactyl.”
“I don’t think it’s for sale.” Erick spat out sand. “Or that we’d want to buy it after it’s crashed.”
Should we get closer? Jelena asked, switching to telepathy again.
Erick, pressing his cheek to the sand so they wouldn’t be seen from below, counted people again and considered how they might do that. There were three men in the bombers—the pilots—and five walking around outside with rifles, all looking like they expected trouble. They had flown right over the city, clearly attacking the freighter. The other three men moved in and out of their prey’s hold, using hand tractors to lift out crates. Erick sensed machinery inside the crates, maybe large ship-rated weapons broken down for transport. Modern and valuable weapons? If so, he was surprised an old freighter manned by a single person had been asked to transport them.
Do you remember Grandpa’s lessons on bending light around yourself to hide you from people’s eyes? Jelena asked.
I remember. Creating camouflage, yes. I was pretty good at it.
I know you were. Want to practice now?
Erick snorted. It’s hard to do on a moving object—or person—if you’re thinking of sneaking closer.
I am, and I’m sure you can do it. I, uh oh.
Erick grimaced, also sensing the problem. Two of the armed men were jogging up the other side of their dune, heading straight toward them.
One of the ships must have sensors that can detect nearby life, Erick said.
Now would be a good time to practice your camouflage abilities.
Jelena looked behind them. So did Erick. There was nothing but sand until the crest of the next dune, and their two bikes stood out. So did they. They couldn’t burrow under the sand like snakes, and there was nothing to hide behind unless they ran down and over the next dune. There wouldn’t be time for that, and Erick grimaced as he noticed their tracks leading up the slope to their spot. He hastily stirred the sand with his mind to brush them out.
I’ll try to do it too, Jelena added, and hide the bikes.
There was little other choice unless they wanted to attack the men, trying to subdue them before they called for help. Since neither Erick nor Jelena was going to kill anyone, and since they didn’t have stun guns or ropes for tying anyone, that wouldn’t go well.
Erick closed his eyes, aware of the men almost to the crest. He formed a barrier around them, much as Jelena had for defense earlier, but instead of simply making it a transparent energy field, he fiddled with the way it reacted under the sunlight. He altered it, almost like angling mirrors, to make the interior of the barrier appear empty to anyone looking at it from the outside. It would—should—look like the sand all around it and nothing more.
The two men charged over the rim, and Erick feared he hadn’t had enough time to refine his efforts. He held his breath as they stopped and frowned. They were only ten feet away, their jackets flapping in the breeze. One of those jackets was faded and patched but had the unmistakable military cut and black and gray colors of an old imperial flight jacket. The other man wore a simple
