“Up would never tell them anything,” Taz said.
“He may not have a choice,” Pedro said darkly.
Torture. The word echoed unsaid between them. Taz
turned back to Lieutenant-Commander Tripp expectantly.
He sighed. “All right, let’s treat the Graali as a potential
enemy, but we’re trying diplomacy first. No sense starting
anything if the Commander just wanted some extra time to
smell the overly large flowers. In the meantime, we’ll ready
a rescue team to take the Arrow down to the planet to check
things out. Wilson, Luddy, Punz, suit up.”
“I’m going,” Taz said.
“Taz is right, she should go,” said Pedro, and she turned
to him in surprise. “If anyone’s going to find him down
there, it’s her. She knows Up better than anyone.”
“All right!” Tripp bellowed. “If only to get you out of
my hair. Taz, suit up. You too, Ensign Herrera.” He turned
his back firmly on them as they headed to the weapons
room.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“I know how much you care about him,” Pedro said, not
looking at her but selecting a shiny black zapper from the
row before them. “You’d drive everyone nuts about it if you
had to stay here.”
Before Taz had a chance to respond, the ship’s computer
announced in a calm, pleasant voice, “Destination reached:
planet Graali.”
“Let’s go,” she said, and together they headed for the
Arrow.
The second blow was sharper than the first had been. Up
felt his head whip around from the force of it, his neck
muscles shrieking in protest. Fiery orange explosions
clouded his vision. His cheek burned, a deep, slow pain.
He stayed silent on his knees, his wrists tied to his