“Good morning, Miss Reyer.”
Lynx’s predictable, mechanical greeting felt like a wash of sanity compared to the chaos of that morning. Reyer had rarely felt so glad to see him.
“Good morning, Lynx.”
The robot shut the hatch and kicked the mechanism to draw the stairs back into the hull of the ship.
Reyer glanced around the main cabin, trying to get her bearings. Tennama was standing off to the side, looking out of place, and watching from a polite distance as the two Vas brothers argued in a series of fierce whispers.
Reyer felt no need to be that polite. She walked over to them.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Adan ran a hand through his hair. “We have a problem.”
“One I don’t know about?”
“Yes.” Vas turned. “Lynx, give me base time.”
“0315 hours,” the robot replied.
The captain covered his eyes for a moment, then dropped his hand. “Time’s up. We’re leaving. Lynx, go immediately to the cockpit and prepare for take-off.”
Alix and the others followed him into the small passageway at the front of the ship, but rather than heading toward the bridge, he stopped at the door to the first private cabin and slammed his fist on it.
“Doctor,” he shouted, “I need a word with you.”
Jane opened the door.
From behind Reyer, there was a gasp. Everyone looked back at Tennama. He didn’t notice; he was too busy staring at the biologist.
“Dr. Mengele, I presume?” he said with a twisted smile.
Jane corrected him: “It’s Bonumomnes, actually.”
“I know who you are, Jane Bonumomnes. You think there’s a human-xeno alive that doesn’t know your face?”
A palpable tension settled over the crew. They listened as Tennama continued.
“I’ve read your site. I know the details of all your experiments—everything you did.” He raised a finger to point at her. “We thought you were dead.”
“We faked her death to keep her safe from you,” Reyer said.
“I should have known.”
“She’s our ally, Tennama. We had to protect her. We didn’t think you’d stop hunting her until she was dead.”
“Can you blame us?”
“Can you blame us?”
Two seconds later, Tennama dropped his eyes from Reyer’s. “No. I guess I can’t.”
“Is this going to be a problem?” Vas asked.
“No, Captain,” Tennama said. “It was unexpected. That’s all.”
Adan’s gaze lingered on the xeno. He wasn’t inclined to take Tennama’s assurance at face value, but this new issue had to be put on a list with all the others. It was not a short list.
He returned his attention to Jane.
“Dr. Jane, you’re currently in violation of the contract you signed with the Uprising. You know that?”
“Yes.”
She sounded defiant—but she could sound defiant when ordering breakfast.
“If you do this, they’ll have every right to brand you as a spy and traitor, and the penalty for that is death.”
“No problem. I’m already dead.”
“That won’t stop them from hanging you.”
“Captain, I’ve decided I’m going with you.”
Vas turned to his brother.
“What did you want me to do?” Ciro cried. “Physically throw her off the ship?” He put out his arms to display his skinny physique.
“You could do it, Adan,” Reyer said. “You’re big enough.”
“Alix!” Jane hissed.
Reyer ignored her. “Are you going to?”
There was a long pause as the captain considered the question.
At last, he said, “Dr. Jane, you know the consequences. No more warnings. This is your last chance.”
“I’m staying.”
Vas shook his head. “Dead people are the worst to look after.” He continued down the passageway toward the steep, narrow stairs that led to the cockpit. “It’s so damn hard to keep them alive!”
Alix called after him, “Maybe it’s because we didn’t find dying all that bad the first time.”
Adan leaned over the rail so he could yell back, “You stay out of this! You’ve already died once—you don’t get to do it again!”
Reyer smiled and pulled Jane out to join them. Ciro took the lead. Reyer kept herself between Jane and Tennama as they headed to the cockpit.
“You’re a suicidal idiot, Jane.” Reyer’s voice was light and friendly.
“It takes one to know one.” Jane’s smile faded. “Do you really think they’ll hang me?”
“I don’t know, but you’d better be ready to accept that consequence. Right now, we have other things to worry about. Like getting off this base before anyone realizes you’re missing.”
Alix was only partway up the ladder when the Colibri lifted away from the pad. Tennama was behind her. When he saw her grip the metal railing, he put a hand on her low back to help steady her.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“These stairs are hard for you, aren’t they?” he said.
“Most are.”
When Reyer reached the top, she swung around the rail and sat on the nearby bench. Ciro had claimed the chair in front of the built-in console. Vas and Lynx were in their places as pilot and copilot and already deep into the fast-paced exchanged they’d developed for when they needed to leave somewhere in a hurry. Jane and Tennama stood at the back of the small room, but they kept their distance from each other.
“Are we clear?” Vas asked.
“Clear, sir,” Lynx answered.
Reyer whispered to Ciro, “Who gave us authorization to leave?”
“Ito,” was the hushed reply.
“Ciro,” Adan called, “cut us off. I want us running black.”
“Captain,” Lynx said, “that will make it difficult for me to determine a route.”
“Not having a destination is going to make it impossible to determine a route. Get us away from this planet, and don’t hit anything on the way.”
“Shall I prepare to drop into velox?”
“No. I’ll do that. You fly. I want us moving.”
“We’re running black now, Adan,” Ciro said.
“Ciro, can anyone hear us?” Reyer asked.
“No.”
“Is there anything recording?”
“Only Lynx’s memory.”
“Can it be erased? Permanently?”
“Lynx,” Ciro said, “mark this moment in your memory. Call it erase point one.”
“Done, sir.”
Vas was still working the controls. He didn’t look up from what he was doing. “Can I ask questions now, Alix?”
“Yes, Adan.”
“Good! First things first—is there anyone or anything else on this ship that I ought to know about before we get any further?”
Ciro answered, “No, sir. It’s only the five of us.”
“What about that damn cat of yours, Doctor?”
“I ordered Bob to take care of Cuss and look after my experiments until I got back.”
Alix saw Adan waver; his hand drifted, rather than moved with the dedicated purpose he’d had only a moment before. The moment passed, and he returned to his former pace.
“You thought we’d get to go back?” he asked.
Jane didn’t answer.
“Lynx,” Adan said, “did they leave us any weapons?”
“No weapons have been removed from this ship, Captain.”
“Great. If we ever do go back, I get to face a charge of theft.”
“I think they’ll admit it’s their fault for not following procedure,” Reyer said.
The captain nodded. It made a grim kind of sense. “Lynx, how many meal rations did Falk authorize?”
“Eighty-four.”
There was a brief silence.
“They anticipated Ciro,” Reyer said.
“They anticipated Ciro, but not Jane.” Vas said over his shoulder, “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, Doctor.”
“Well, I am here,” Jane said.
“And what are you doing here? How did you even find out about any of this?”
Ciro cleared his throat. “Uh, she was with me when I ‘accidentally’ got the flagged email meant for the tech-security team.”
“What the hell was she doing with you at three in the morning?”
Adan realized what he’d said only a second after he’d said it, but it was still long enough for each of the women to give him an incredulous look. Ciro’s expression had a little more pity in it.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Right,” the captain said. “Did you have time to pack a kit bag, Doctor?”
“And I grabbed a copy of all my notes and research.”
“Ciro?”
“Oh, you know me. I stole everything.”
When Vas glanced over, his brother was grinning. The captain turned back to the controls. “We’re ready, Lynx. Drop us into velox.”
“Where—”
“Pick any random direction. Go until I tell you to stop.” Adan pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Then he turned his chair to face the rest of the crew. “You can’t wear information, Ciro.”
“I have a kit bag, Adan.”
“Good. So we have food, and we’re only short on clothes for Tennama. We have weapons, information—”
Ciro crossed his arm and raised his head even further. “And all the tech equipment I could carry.”
As the conversation went on around her, Reyer stared absently at the box of tea in her hands. She ran her finger over its edge and felt the plastic wrap shift. After a short search, she found the slit on the corner and used her fingernail to expand the opening.
“Miss Reyer,” Tennama said, “what are you doing?”
Vas looked over at them. Everyone fell silent.
“It wasn’t sealed,” Reyer said, still focused on her task. “It looks like a brand-new box, but the seal was broken.”
“And?” Ciro prompted.
“Tea isn’t always easy to get on Home Base. Once, when I was a girl, Ito had to ration it so we’d have enough to last until the next shipment.”
“Alix, are you blushing?” Adan asked.
“I was young, okay? And impatient. I learned how to slit the box so I could get to my tea when I wanted it.”
He laughed. “Oh, troublemaker, the things I learn about you.”
“Adan, you don’t even drink tea. If you did, you’d understand.”
“Tea-sneak.”
“Ito understood.” Reyer removed the plastic wrapper. “If you’re careful, you can pull out something slim without it showing.”
“Like a tea-bag?” Jane said.
Alix opened the box. “And if you’re careful, you could probably put something slim in it.”
Everyone stared at the object she pulled out.
“Like a nan-card,” Tennama said.
Adan muttered, “Ciro.”
His brother took the nan-card from Reyer. Everyone gathered around the monitor as he put it into the machine.
The screen brought up an image that hung there while the information loaded. The recording camera had been placed in a low corner of the scene, as if it was resting on the edge of a desk, off to the side. In the foreground they could see the back of a familiar figure. In the background, they saw a line of three people sitting behind an imposing table that extended past the screen.
“What is this?” Jane asked.
“It’s an assembly meeting,” Adan said.
The frozen figures came to life. The man in the middle of the long table started to speak.
“General Falk, after careful consideration, we’re ready to give our ruling.”
Falk leaned over his desk, resting his weight on his palms. “And?”
“In regards to the information you have about this—this xeno-queen situation—” The man cleared his throat. “Falk, we’ve thought about it and talked about it for a long time—”
“Can you tell me something I don’t know, Delegate?”
The delegate looked irritated, but he was enough of a gentleman to hold his temper. “That’s right. You prefer if we keep it short.”
“I think I’ve waited long enough, don’t you?”
“The answer is no.”
“No?” There was a second of stunned silence before Falk went on. “A limited budget, a cautious first mission, an exploratory team—I expected that. But just no?”
“You heard me correctly, Falk. Is there anything else you need?”
“Some explanation would be appreciated!”
“I’m sorry, General, I thought you wanted me to—how do you put it? Cut the bullshit?”
“That’s not bullshit! I think I deserve to know your reasoning. Delegates, this is a serious matter!”
The woman on the left said, “The debates are over, Falk. We’ve heard you say all this before.”
The general jerked his hands up from the table. “Forgive me! I wasn’t sure you were listening. How else could you come up with such an incredible decision?”
“If you try listening to us, we’ll tell you!”
Falk must have clamped his mouth shut; the camera showed his posture humming with barely restrained energy.
The three people arrayed in front of the general watched him for a moment, then, apparently, decided to trust his intent to keep quiet.
The spokesman said, “The first point is that we don’t know how much we can trust this xeno’s information. He’s been hidden and secure with the Supremacy this whole time. Who’s to say it isn’t a complex setup—”
Falk’s intention failed. “Delegate!”
The spokesman raised his voice and continued without pause. “However unlikely it is, it’s still a possibility.”
“We could send in someone to check—”
The woman on the left spoke up. “It would be a hunt, Falk. A difficult and involved search. That xeno said he didn’t know where she was. You wouldn’t be simply checking up on something. We’re currently struggling on four major fronts! Our resources are spread across light-years! We don’t have people or money to spare, even if it was going to be that simple.”
The last man, sitting on the right, spoke slowly, trying to overcome a thick accent. “And it’s not our job.”
“What?” Falk said.
The spokesman explained, “We’re chartered and supported for only two reasons, General—to protect the free-planes and to fight for the planets who want to secede from the Supremacy. This clearly falls outside that. If they were attacking us, it might be another story—”
“So you want to wait until they’re strong enough to attack us? Then we’ll have to use a hundred times the resources it would take to deal with the problem now!”
“We don’t know that it will come to that,” the woman said. “If the xeno-queen kills enough people, the Supremacy will have to take notice. Then they’ll step in.”
There was a strained silence.
“The Supremacy,” Falk said. “You want to let the Supremacy deal with it. A mess of selfish idiots you wouldn’t even trust to govern your planet, and you want to leave saving the galaxy to them.”
“In this case, yes.”
“Especially in this case,” the man on the right added.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Falk asked.
The man on the right woke up the tablet in front of him. Everyone waited as he searched through his notes. He had to look over his glasses to read the screen.
“‘She’ll be looking for a planet where there’s no Rising because you know how to find us, but she’ll also be looking for a place without a lot of checks, or others will notice when too many people go missing…’” He put down the tablet and pushed his glasses up his nose. “That is what your xeno said, isn’t it, General?”
“Yes.”
“Then do you feel it’s reasonable to assume the queen will not be settling on a planet with a large military presence, considering the number of checks such a planet requires?”
Falk eventually growled, “Yes.”
“Let us say that this queen is hard at work, creating more human-xenos, as you fear. What bodies will she be taking to make them?”
Falk said nothing.
“They won’t be Rising,” the man continued. “They won’t be Supremacy military. If we send you in there to kill those xenos…”
Reyer said over the recording, “It’ll look like the Rising condoned the slaughter of Supremacy civilians.”
The speakers relayed the rest of the delegate’s carefully annunciated remarks. “You see the problem, don’t you, General?”
“People are dying,” Falk said. “A threat is out there, growing. And you want to do nothing because you have to protect our reputation?”
The spokesman leaned forward. “Do you have any idea what we went through after the assassination of Devi Kumar?”
“Devi Kumar was not assassinated by us! She was killed by the xenos!”
“You’ve convinced us!” the woman shouted. “My god! Of all the days to forget my earplugs. All right, Falk! You’ve convinced us. Now, go convince everyone in the Supremacy.”
There was a pause.
“You know what?” Falk said. “I was wrong. Your reasons are bullshit.”
The spokesman sighed. “You’re dissatisfaction with the assembly’s decision is noted, General.”
The screen froze. Ciro reached over and turned it off.
The cockpit was silent.
“You know, it’s strange watching him yell at other people,” Vas said. “I’m a little disappointed.”
“Disappointed?” Jane’s voice was strained by her disbelief.
“I thought what we had was special.”
“He’s a charming man,” Tennama said. “I’m glad he was on our side.”
The captain wandered away from the computer. “Ciro, I want that nan-card destroyed.”
“Got it.”
“Not simply destroyed, I want it decimated. I want it to never-have-been, understood?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Was it not supposed to be recorded?” Jane asked.
“Everything the assembly does is recorded,” Reyer said. “We have to be able to review their actions at the end of the war or if there’s a hearing—”
“He acted like that knowing he was on camera?” Tennama said with wonder.
“But if they recorded it on purpose, what’s the issue?” Jane asked.
“We aren’t supposed to have it,” Vas said. “All of those recordings are classified. Smuggling us a copy was the only thing they did that was illegal.”
“Breaking me out. Holding an e-pistol on a fellow officer.” Tennama held up a hand when Vas glared at him. “I’m not complaining, mind you, but some people might consider that criminal.”
“The generals didn’t do that. I did that. After they discharged me. I did it without orders or authorization. I wasn’t even a member of the Uprising. It can’t be held against them.”
“You were discharged?”
“They hung you out to dry, Vas,” Jane said.
“Jane!”
If he hadn’t already been made aware of his brother’s relationship with her, Vas might have guessed then. Never in a million years did he expect Ciro to use that tone with Dr. Jane Bonumomnes, and the universe would have died of old age before he’d expect her to tolerate it.
But even before Ciro had snapped at her, the doctor regretted her words. She’d seen the flash of grief cross the captain’s face.
In a far more humble voice, she said, “I mean, it’s pretty obvious they wanted you to do this, they just couldn’t ask you to. And now you’re the one who’s going to get in trouble.”
“I chose to be here, Dr. Jane, same as you. And it’s better for me to be taken out by this than one of the generals.” Vas leaned on the railing that surrounded the portal to the lower level. “Lynx, take us out of velox. I want you to keep us running black, but there’s no point in going any further until we know where we’re going.”
“Yes, Captain.” In an instant the robot went from his motionless state to his smooth routine of manipulating the controls. “Captain, are you still a captain?”
“What?”
“I’ve heard several people refer to you as ‘Captain,’ and no one has corrected them. If you’ve been discharged from your position—”
“He’s still a captain,” Reyer said. “It wasn’t a dishonorable discharge.”
“Falk didn’t make it sound like it was honorable, Alix.”
“They have to actually say it, Adan. It’s part of the process, and it would’ve shown up in the computers. You weren’t stripped of your rank.” To Lynx, she said, “If he goes back, he’ll still be an O-3.”
Vas raised his hand with a theatrical flourish. “And so it falls to me as the optimist to point out that, considering my recent actions, I doubt that will be true.”
“You mean taking Tennama and threatening Jensen? Oh, come on.” There was a slight smile at the edge of Reyer’s lips. “You really think it’s worse than some of the other things you’ve done?”
“Excuse me?”
“You didn’t even disobey orders this time.”
“Look, I may not observe every last detail, but for the most part, I do what I’m told.”
“Forty-eight percent,” Lynx said.
“What?” Adan said.
“It’s the percentage of missions where you have disobeyed significant rules or directives in the execution—”
“Lynx—”
“Shutting up now, sir.”
“How does the number even get that high?” Jane sounded awed.
“You know how they sometimes ground him and make him work in the kitchens?” Reyer said.
Vas put his forehead in his hand. “Alix, please don’t say it like that. It makes me sound like some teenager they have to punish for staying out too late.”
Ciro grinned but forbore from commenting.
Reyer rephrased it: “You know how they sometimes keep him from flying by making him work in the kitchens?”
“Yeah,” Jane said.
“He smuggles in black-market materials. The generals haven’t found out about it.”
Jane snorted. “Ten coin says they know.”
Vas moved his hand to look at the biologist.
“You think anyone would say anything?” she said. “Your food is delicious.”
Adan blushed when he saw Alix’s proud smile. “Yeah, well, I don’t think they’ll be satisfied with a month of KP over this one.”
“That was the first time you’ve ever threatened a member of the Uprising with a deadly weapon,” Lynx observed. “Based on empathetic ethics, I suspect most humans would unconsciously decide it was on a different level of insubordination from your normal dereliction of duty.”
“Lynx, you need to shut up more.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Vas grabbed the rail again, this time dropping his head between his arms to stretch his back. Once again upright, he allowed himself a deep breath. He knew everyone was watching him—he could feel the weight of their stares—and he knew what they wanted, but he also knew what he needed.
“We’ll decide our next step after we’ve had a few hours to rest and think. Tennama, cabin two is yours for now. Jane, cabin one is yours.”
“Mine? Only mine?”
“Yes, Doctor. Do you have an objection?”
“Well, no. But…what about Ciro?”
“I’m sure he’ll find somewhere to sleep. He is, after all, a genius. But if you two get into some kind of a tiff, I’m not mediating, and I want it very clear who has the authority to kick the other person out.”
“Thanks, bro,” Ciro grumbled.
“Now, everyone but Alix and Lynx, clear out.” After the others had left, Adan turned to his copilot. “Lynx, I want you below guarding Tennama.”
“Is he hostile?”
The captain hesitated. “I don’t know. He makes me uneasy. Watch him. Especially around Dr. Jane.”
“Yes, Captain.” Lynx stood up.
“And Lynx.”
The robot stopped at the top of the ladder.
“I want you to analyze his behavior and emotional state,” Vas said. “Don’t talk about it to anyone, but be prepared to give me a report.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The robot descended. Alix and Adan were left alone.
Vas stared out at the endless array of stars.
As much as a minute might have passed before he said, “You think I shouldn’t have done that.”
Reyer shrugged. “I can’t blame you for being cautious, but I think you’ll have to decide to trust him eventually. We’re a small team with a big job.”
Vas walked over and sat down beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder.
“Alix…”
“Yes?”
“Ito hadn’t—Ito didn’t tell you what was going on, did she? You would’ve said something.”
“If any of them had even talked to us about it, it could’ve been brought home to them.”
“Then how did you figure out what was going on so quickly?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Adan, my back hurts pretty bad.”
Vas leaned against the rails behind them and tucked his arm over Reyer as she repositioned herself so she was lying on his chest. Once she was comfortable, she told him about her conversation with Ito and the strange email she’d received.
“They wanted to do something,” she said. “They all knew it was the right thing to do, but their hands were tied.”
“So they used us.”
“We were the only ones in a position to know what was going on and—” Reyer’s laugh had to find its way through her constricted throat, so it came out light and breathy. “And they knew they could trust us to do something.”
“I don’t know whether to feel angry or proud.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to help.”
“Of course I’d want to help! But I would’ve liked to have been asked!”
“You mean like when they give you mission orders?”
He looked down at her upturned face and noted her teasing smile. “You’re a real pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?”
“Adan, I don’t want to feel like I forced you into this when you didn’t know what was happening.”
He ran his thumb over her cheek. “Like I told Jane, I chose to be here. I admit I was a little slow, but when you brought me to Tennama’s cell, there were enough clues for me to figure out what was going on. I could’ve walked away then, but I didn’t.”
Content, Reyer relaxed onto his shoulder again.
They sat together in silence for a while, then Vas muttered, “Did you hear her? If enough people die, the Supremacy will have to notice…” He shook his head. “How long do you have to be in politics before you start to think like that?”
There was another laugh from Reyer. She pushed off his chest, raising herself high enough to kiss him.
“I love you, Adan Vas. I think you’re marvelous.”
He smiled at the compliment, but his smile faded as he studied her face.
“Alix, when you said that you’d come with me, had you already guessed it was a mission?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
“I know you like to keep me safe, but I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone.”
This time Vas leaned forward to kiss her. “Troublemaker.”