Stars Gods Wolves by Dan Kirshtein (good books for 8th graders .TXT) 📗

So he made an attempt. He glanced past the bald woman providing cover fire, and he watched intently as the captain, who had also been reeled back onto the ship, knelt on the edge of the bay door and attempted to aid something’s re-entry. Whatever it was that the captain was attempting to help board the ship, it was huge and heavy. Large, brown, furry fingers clutched the end of the floor, and Martin recognized the Waykind from earlier. The realization that he was not hallucinating was overshadowed by the resumption of a sensory overload.

Gally walked past Nitro while he panted and slapped Ox on the back, after finally getting him aboard. “You dense—” he panted. “You gargantuan—” he sat down, still panting. “You fuck—.” She couldn’t help but smile.

She straightened her skirt and wiggled her nose as she approached the newly freed doctor who was still in the corner of the ship. Ignoring the panicked look on his face, she approached the man who hadn’t heard his own name, let alone someone acknowledging his PhDs in Biology and Nuclear Physics, in five years. “Doctor Collier.” She gave him a polite smile as she extended her hand.

He screamed.

It was a very tired, very dehydrated scream: primal and unrelenting. Gally tried once more. “Doctor,” she attempted with eyes and tone that indicated she was out of her element. The screaming continued. Gally put her hands at her side, looking around in frustration. She glanced at the rest of Purple Company, who all wore similar faces of “what the hell is wrong with him” aside from Boomer, who seemed to think it was funny.

Finally, Gally could hear Harper shouting from the cockpit. “Here!” he exclaimed, waving a canteen with an outstretched arm in the doorway between the cockpit and the bay. She took it and quickly unscrewed the lid before handing it to the screaming man.

Martin took the canteen and drank nearly the entire contents in the first swig. When he choked, he finally sputtered the word “Food” before his second swig, which did finish it.

Seemingly eager to help, Nitro leaned over and grabbed one of the canned MREs that were neatly stacked in a magnetized pile nearby. He handed it to Gally, and she cautiously offered it to the former prisoner.

Martin quickly swiped the can, peeled back the lid, and tore into it: using only his fingers to dig into the can and shovel the food into his mouth No one in the company had seen anyone enjoy one of those things so much. Boomer leaned in, noting which kind the doctor had grabbed, wondering if he’d simply picked the wrong flavor every time.

Sabile:Thirty thousand feet and falling

The winds of Sabile weighed heavily upon the Atticus almost instantly upon entering the atmosphere. After the first few violent bursts of turbulence, the “fasten your seatbelt” sign, which, aboard any other ship, would have been turned on before the hustle of entering the planet’s atmosphere, was finally displayed above the door to the cabin. The independent contractors seemed oddly comfortable in this ruckus; it was just another bumpy ride to them. Despite this, Josie amusedly watched Gally’s tiny frame bounce around on her bench like an infant in an oversized car seat.

“Please fasten your seatbelts and remain in your seats. We have arrived on Sabile.” The ship’s AI would have been heard throughout the ship had her rowdy passengers not shot the speaker. Still, it could be heard just past the door to the cockpit, where Martin was seated. His eyes widened, somehow madder than usual, and he immediately stirred to remove his seatbelt. Once he’d done that, he found standing quite difficult.

“Doc,” Nitro cautioned from afar, uncertain the man even spoke enough English to understand him. “You might want to take a seat.”

“I have to see it!” he muttered to himself as he struggled to stand, his muscles too weak to properly hold him upright in the chaos. Stumbling, he was thrown just within arm’s reach of the door, and he opened it.

Harper heard the door slide open, and didn’t bother to turn his head, though some part of him insisted on confirming the sign for the seatbelts was, indeed, on. He’d heard the commotion in the back and knew who was at the door. “Nothing to see, I’m afraid!” Harper shouted over the jostling and noise. He was right: Smoky clouds, gray snow, and blue flashes of lightning covered the entire windshield.

Still, Martin found it fascinating. He clung to the side of the doorway, eyes wide, both in reverence for science’s fury and in guilt for the horror he had wrought upon this world. “God forgive me,” he whispered, as if it was all one word. He stumbled in, finding a seat in the co-pilot’s chair.

As if watching a child carrying glass, Harper eyed the doctor. “That’s—that’s fine, just don’t touch anything.” Martin nodded, not looking at him.

Harper was flying on scopes alone, which he didn’t mind as much as the horrible weather. Still, he was an experienced pilot, and managed to find the radar ping from the research base expecting them, not far from where they were. He pushed down on the controls and watched as the sonar pings coming back indicated a rocky terrain below all that snow. The jagged surface made it difficult to find a decent spot to land. Under normal conditions, the pilot would have taken his time, circled once or twice, and descended carefully. Unfortunately, the lightning and fierce winds did not allow for such considerations, forcing Harper to bring her down very quickly.

Within the confines of her screens and speakers, Sydney would have panicked if it could. Its programming excluded any way to put a tone into its voice, but that didn’t stop it from trying. “Warning, altitude decreasing.” The feminine voice from the speakers was clear and begrudgingly calm amid the chaos. “Deployment of landing gear advised.” Within