Free The Lost Voyager: A Space Opera Novel by A. C. Hadfield

Lassea already thought she knew—that she was a human—but she didn’t press it. Tulula was already unpredictable around Lassea; she didn’t want to make it worse.  
    Slowly, Tulula turned to face the young pilot. “I have complicated emotions about you with regards to Ernesto,” she said now, her mouth working slowly to enunciate the words of Salus Common properly.  
    “Sanchez? What’s he got to do with this?”
    “I… well, we have formed a kind of bond.”
    Now Lassea got it! She had to prevent herself from laughing. It wasn’t Tulula’s fault for misunderstanding; she was still new to working on a human crew. Lassea downed both of the coffees, her body needing the caffeine more than ever. “You’re jealous of me? You think I’m interested in Sanchez in a romantic way?”
    Tulula blinked her large yellow eyes that resembled those of the lethargic lizards on the sun world of Gatton. “The way you look at him sometimes,” Tulula said, trying to find the right words as she spoke slowly, “it makes me feel an inner violence.”
    Well, that wasn’t good at all. Lassea broke eye contact. She no longer felt the need to laugh. “I like Sanchez as a friend and a colleague,” she said firmly. “When we first worked for Mach, he helped me out, showed me the ropes. That’s all. He’s old enough to be my grandfather.”
    “Oh. I understand,” Tulula said, her voice softening. “I…” She trailed off as something started flashing on the disc-shaped holodisplay in front of her.  
    “What is it?”  
    “The drone, it’s picking up a signal on the far east side of the planet.”
    A bolt of excitement shot through Lassea. She jumped out of her chair and almost leapt across to Tulula. She was right, though; there on the holoscreen was a rhythmic pulsing blip, sent back to the Intrepid via the drone’s radio transceiver.
    “The signal’s weak,” Tulula said, bringing up the visual representation of it. A few spikes penetrated through a fog of electrostatic interference that didn’t seem to be coming from the planet or its atmosphere. “We’re going to need more power to clear it up. The drones system’s isn’t enough.”
    “What do you suggest?” Lassea asked. “We’ve already got most of Intrepid ’s systems running at full power. Mach won’t be happy if we just start switching off processes.”
    “He won’t be happy either if we miss this opportunity to analyze the signal and find out where it’s coming from. Looking at the way it’s pulsing, I think it’s highly likely to be a distress signal of some kind.”
    “Let’s speak with Mach,” Lassea said.  
    “We won’t have time for a discussion if the signal gets interrupted.” Tulula gestured the visualizing radar screen away and brought up the Intrepid ’s main control panel. Her lithe, double-jointed fingers quickly manipulated the controls, diverting power from various systems to the radio array. The lights in the bridge dimmed and the antigravity plates became weaker.  
    Lassea had to grab onto the seat so she didn’t start to float away.
    “It’s still not enough,” Tulula said. “I’m cutting comms and heating.”
    “Are you mad? What if there’s an emergency on the surface and they need our help? I can’t let you do that.”
    Tulula spun round to face Lassea. “Are you going to stop me?”
    Damn her! Lassea thought. Why’d she have to put them both in this situation? None of her training with the CW academy had prepared her for such close interaction with a vestan—the enemy. But then that’s why she was no longer in the CW. Mach had always insisted that she trust her instincts, and surprisingly her instinct told her to let Tulula do her thing.  
    “Fine, do it,” Lassea said, “but if we don’t find anything soon, I want you to return the ship to its previous state. And you’re taking full responsibility if anything goes wrong.”  
    Tulula simply smiled, gently stretching her thin lips and baring