Winter's Orbit

by Everina Maxwell

  “No,” Jainan said. “Absolutely not.” His mixed feelings abruptly disappeared, replaced by sheer relief that Kiem’s stim-crash hadn’t happened any earlier. He raised his hand and waved needlessly at the descending flycraft.

  The rescue craft had no need for a clear landing ground. Its whine was deafening as it finished its descent; Jainan clamped his hands over his ears, but it didn’t help much. Then the whine changed, and it came to a halt in midair, only a couple of meters from the snow. A hatch opened and a ramp extended from it. At the top, two figures looked like they were arguing, one in the same army uniform everyone on Hvaren Base had worn, and the other—that was Bel.

  Jainan pulled Kiem’s arm around his shoulder and helped him stand. Bel jumped onto the ramp as it was still extending, and as the soldier flung out a cautionary hand, she ran headlong down it and leapt off. “Two days! You idiots!” she said and hugged both of them.

  Jainan froze. Was she glad to see him as well? Kiem didn’t seem to have noticed Jainan’s reaction; he just gave Bel a weak grin and said, “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

  Bel had already realized something was off about Jainan’s response; she drew back. Jainan couldn’t look away fast enough. Too late he realized that he was abnormal. He couldn’t even manage to gracefully accept a friendship.

  But Bel said nothing and instead rounded on Kiem. “If you don’t want to worry me, try not crashing your flybug!” she said. “You fly like a pensioner! How the f— How in Heaven did you crash?”

  “It was only a small crash,” Kiem said. Bel dipped her shoulder under his other arm, taking some of the weight off Jainan as they made their way up the ramp. “A crash-let. A microcrash. Can I sit down now?”

  The soldier reached them with a stretcher hovering behind him. Jainan and Bel let Kiem down until he was sitting on it. Bel followed the stretcher to give Kiem facts about abuse of stimulants, which Jainan suspected was relieving her feelings.

  “Is he conscious?” The person striding out from the mouth of the flyer was the upright form of Colonel Lunver. “Get him in the flyer.”

  It shouldn’t have been unexpected. Of course Hvaren Base had scrambled its rescue flyers to find them, and of course their senior officer would join the search for a member of the royal family. Jainan was surprised at the unpleasant frisson that went up his back. He had always known he should be grateful for any help that Taam’s officer colleagues offered, but he hadn’t realized seeing one of them would jolt him out of his hard-won equanimity so quickly. He found himself remembering his conversation with Kiem: Did you see anyone near our flybug at the base?

  “What happened?” Lunver said.

  Colonel Lunver had not wanted them to see the Kingfisher files. Jainan, feeling unusually obstructionist, met her eyes with a blank look. “I don’t know. We crashed.”

  “I see,” Lunver said. She didn’t challenge him. Of course she wouldn’t: Taam’s colleagues had never expected Jainan to have anything useful to add. “Stay with the medics.” She turned back to the cabin, presumably to report they’d been found.

  The second medic was a civilian, which made Jainan slightly more relaxed. The palace had clearly flown out their own people—including Bel—to help with the search-and-rescue effort, which meant this wasn’t just Lunver’s operation. The medic handed Jainan a hydration sachet and ran through some questions, which Jainan apparently answered to her satisfaction. “We’ll be launching in a moment,” she said to Jainan. “You may be feeling reasonably fine, but I strongly recommend you lie down—”

  “I told you, I’m fine, check Jainan!”

  “—as we apparently can’t get his highness to do,” the medic finished, as they entered the small body of the craft. “Prince Kiem, please. Lie down.”

  “Not until you check—”

  “I am right here.” Jainan crossed to the shelflike bed, followed by Bel, and pressed two fingers against Kiem’s shoulder. “Lie down. You are being stubborn.”

  He didn’t realize until the words had left his mouth that he was touching Kiem—easily, naturally—and all that happened was Kiem stopped talking and lay down. Kiem’s face was ashy with exhaustion by this point, which was probably the reason he said, “Mm,” and nothing else. But he caught Jainan’s hand, and Jainan didn’t even get around to wondering why before he squeezed it and let it go.

  On an impulse, Jainan rested his hand on Kiem’s head. The hair was soft under his hand. Kiem’s breath caught, and then he relaxed all at once, like an animal stretching out before it went to sleep. Even the lines of tension on his forehead smoothed out.

  The strange feeling that had settled around Jainan like a combat shield since this morning was still there, and he found he had no fear of anyone’s disapproval at all. He sat beside Kiem’s bed in one of the medic chairs and slipped the harness over his shoulders.

  The military medic eyed both of them and apparently decided this wasn’t a fight worth picking. “Sleep and nutrients,” he said. “Don’t let Prince Kiem get up. Bel Siara, Colonel Lunver will have the coordinates you wanted to report to the palace.” He held the door to the front cabin open, and Bel gave them a wave and followed him through.

  Jainan sat by Kiem in the suddenly quiet cabin and kept his hand resting by his head, idly touching his hair, as the flybug rose. The floor under his feet juddered as the hover engines fought with the wind. He could vaguely hear Bel’s “professional” voice replying to Colonel Lunver through the cabin wall. Jainan felt strangely at peace.

  What did it mean, what had happened that morning? Had Kiem meant anything by it? Jainan reminded himself that Taam had seemed to enjoy some of the times they’d slept together, though they hadn’t been like that. He tried not to think too hard about where it left him and Kiem—it felt like something delicate, something he could damage if he examined it too closely. He should just be thankful Kiem had seemed to enjoy himself and not worry about whether it would happen again, or entertain pointless questions about the future.

  After some length of time, the sound of the door opening shook Jainan out of his reverie.

  “Oh, good, he’s resting,” Bel said. “I’ve sent the report off. The Emperor can breathe easy. Not that I think she was that worried, but one dead prince could be an accident. Two dead princes in three months—no offense—starts to look like a body count.”

  “Yes,” Jainan said.

  “Mrh.” Kiem stirred, opening his eyes, and made an effort to sit up on his bed. “I’m taking some offense. Someone just tried to kill us.”

  Hearing Kiem say it bluntly made Jainan feel colder than at any point on their trek. It didn’t faze Bel, though, who gave the kind of smile that seemed designed to worry onlookers. “Did your last school board meeting go badly?” she said. “Or maybe you pissed off a municipal councilor?”

  “Jainan found more evidence Taam was embezzling money.” Kiem’s voice was hoarse, but for once he sounded serious. “You said he was messaging Sefalan relays. We know there’s a black market on Sefala. Then someone tried to break into the Kingfisher networks, and they’re still trying, even after Taam died. Is it possible Taam tried to cheat the raiders and they came after him?”

  “Anything’s possible,” Bel said. “I can tell you some of the raider congloms would kill to get their hands on Iskat military surplus—but mining equipment? I can’t see them killing anyone over that. They trade in weapons. And why would they come after you?”

  “Because we started investigating?” Kiem said. “Come on, Bel, it might have been raiders.”

  Bel gave him a long look that was opaque to Jainan, as if she was familiar enough with Kiem that she could see something he couldn’t. “Why do you want it to be raiders so badly?”

  Kiem rubbed a hand through the hair on the back of his head. “It means it was nothing to do with Thea,” he said. “It means the Auditor might accept Thea is entering into the treaty voluntarily. It means he might instate us. We just have to tell him Taam was a small-time criminal who
cheated the wrong person.” He seemed to hear what he’d just said and cast a somewhat guilty look at Jainan. “Sorry.”

  They could get instated and sign the treaty. Jainan should feel relief, but instead a gap had opened in his chest. He couldn’t find anything to say in Taam’s defense. Taam had cared about the military. Jainan wouldn’t have thought him capable of undermining the whole institution like this—but in some ways, it was becoming clear he hadn’t known much about Taam at all. Taam had been talking to raiders. “We would need proof,” Jainan said, “and we would need Internal Security to support us. They must be the ones to give evidence to the Auditor. I—we are too involved. We won’t be believed.”

  The grinding noise of the flyer’s engines changed to a whine as they stopped climbing and started to glide.

  Bel grimaced and looked over at one of the porthole-like windows on the opposite wall. “I could see what I can get from the Kingfisher outward comms. See if anyone else tries contacting those message relays.”

  “Bel—no,” Kiem said, apparently catching something from her tone that Jainan hadn’t. “You’re not in the Sefalan Guard anymore. You can’t just eavesdrop on people’s comms.”

  Bel pushed herself off the bed and paced to the porthole. “This is not okay,” she said. “I don’t know if it was raiders or not, but this is so far beyond okay. I know you like to think everyone’s basically nice deep down, but they’re not, and someday that attitude’s going to come back and bite you. I don’t have a job without you.”

  “Come on, you have your pick of jobs,” Kiem said, apparently trying to lighten the mood. Bel folded her arms and leaned against the hull wall. “I’m not sure about relying on Internal Security to help us, though,” Kiem added. “I’m still deciding if I’ve forgiven them for the security clearance thing.”

  “Please don’t blow that out of proportion,” Jainan said. “They have to do their jobs in order for the system to work. I was calculated to be a risk. I can’t be the first.”

  “A calculation that completely screwed you over!” Kiem said. “They handled you like an enemy of the state!”

  “That is not your pro—” Jainan stumbled halfway through the sentence. The look Kiem was giving him now was betrayed; Kiem was fully aware how he intended to end that word. Jainan let out a slow breath. His mind was a train running on a phantom rail; he had to stop this. Ever since the wedding Kiem had treated Jainan’s problems as his own.

  Trying to work out what was fair treatment of himself made Jainan’s head hurt. “All right,” he said. “But if we don’t cooperate with them, we’ll both be held in contempt. We could be arrested. They have the authority of the Emperor.”

  Kiem slumped back against the hull where it met the bed, as if the burst of energy had exhausted his reserves. “You’re a treaty representative. They shouldn’t even have any power over you.”

  “They do,” Jainan said tightly. “The Empire comes first. My home planet can do nothing for me without endangering the Resolution treaty. I am not an asset—I am a liability.”

  There was a sudden silence, as if Jainan had thrown another spanner into the exchange. Kiem’s steady gaze was disconcerting. He left a considered pause before he said, “That’s not right.”

  “It’s how it is,” Jainan said, in a voice flat enough to shut down the entire line of conversation. “We must cooperate.”

  The door to the cabin clicked open. “Good to hear that,” Colonel Lunver said. Jainan sat up straighter, wary, but she had apparently only caught the last thing he said. “Your Highness. Now that you’re awake, can you tell me what happened?”

  Kiem traded glances with Jainan. Kiem was usually cooperative with everyone, but this time Jainan recognized the stubborn twist at the corner of his mouth. “I was flying and there was an explosion,” Kiem said. “Not sure what you want from me, Colonel—believe it or not, it doesn’t happen to me on a regular basis.”

  “This is not the time for jokes, Your Highness,” Colonel Lunver said.

  “No, I should think not,” Kiem said. “Did Aren tell you what Jainan found?”

  “Excuse me?” Colonel Lunver said.

  “Your operational records are littered with proof that Taam was embezzling from Kingfisher,” Kiem said. “And you’ve got someone trying to hack into your systems as well, though I’ll admit that one’s probably not Taam’s fault—why didn’t you want us to visit Hvaren Base, by the way, Colonel? That doesn’t look good.”

  It was so amiable, you could almost miss it was an accusation against Colonel Lunver personally. Jainan pressed down a sudden spike of panic. There was nothing she could do on a ship with civilian witnesses.

  Lunver frowned, as if her pet cat had suddenly started spouting wild allegations. “Are you going to explain what you’re saying, Your Highness?”

  “I’m saying that it’s a bit weird that Jainan was the first person to find out about all the holes in your accounting,” Kiem said. “I know you got moved onto the operation after Taam died, but it’s been two months. Weird that you didn’t find anything.” Whatever burst of energy he’d found was clearly running out; his words were slurring at the edges from tiredness.

  “This is absurd,” Lunver said, brutally short. “You are stim-crashing and in no state to make allegations. If I were you, I would stop before anyone overhears or you may find General Fenrik makes your mother aware of this wild behavior.”

  It was a clumsy attempt to shut Kiem down. Jainan, watching the exchange, couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about Lunver’s knee-jerk defensiveness. She was worried about her reputation—and not just hers. That of the operation she ran.

  “Colonel,” Jainan said abruptly. “You have a duty to your unit.”

  Lunver looked at him in surprise, and her eyes narrowed.

  “You are not responsible for anything Taam may have done,” Jainan said. “But you are responsible for setting it right. There is someone else attempting to hack into your operation.” There was also someone else who had tried to kill Kiem and Jainan, but Jainan didn’t trust Lunver enough to speak about that. “If Taam didn’t act alone, then someone else may be attempting to continue what he was doing. Shutting Kiem down like this will not help.”

  He’d expected rage. He’d never spoken to Lunver like this. But instead, after one sharp, angry breath, she shut her mouth. Her expression was suddenly distant and introspective.

  She didn’t seem surprised at the allegations. Of course, Aren would have told her what Kiem and Jainan visited Hvaren Base to do. But laying out that Taam must have had an accomplice—that seemed to be unexpected.

  “I need to call my base,” Lunver said crisply. “Make sure his highness is taken care of.” She got to her feet. “I can assure you, if this embezzlement case isn’t solved, it will not be because my unit was negligent in investigating.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Jainan said. He bit his tongue on Let us know how that goes, but Kiem’s expression said it for him. Kiem was bad for him. “I appreciate your reassurance on the matter.”

  Bel gave Jainan a tight smile and left for the cockpit after Colonel Lunver. Jainan had neither the energy nor the urge to ask her not to eavesdrop.

  Jainan rolled his shoulders, trying to drain the tension from his neck and his back. He was distracted by keeping an eye on Kiem, who must be exhausted; his eyes were flickering shut and his breathing was slowing into sleep. “Think she’ll really find out what’s going on?” Kiem mumbled.

  “I’m not holding out a great deal of hope,” Jainan said softly, because Kiem was struggling to stay awake. “Get some rest.”

  It was unnecessary. Kiem had already lost the battle and sunk into a doze, the lines smoothed out of his face. Jainan couldn’t touch him in case he disturbed him; Kiem would need all his energy for the interview that waited for them. Shafts of light lay bright across the floor from the small windows set into the flyer’s sides. Jainan lifted his eyes from Kiem’s sleeping form to watch the white
horizon pass under the pale-blue sky, felt the rumbling of the flyer through his body, and tried to be glad they were returning safely to the palace. They flew on.

  CHAPTER 20

  Internal Security summoned them as soon as they’d touched down in Arlusk. Kiem refused point-blank to enter the comms dead zone in their working quarters, so instead Rakal ordered the receptionists’ office cleared, and they perched uncomfortably on chairs for visitors. Kiem was slumped back across a hard couch, slow and bleary, his fingers resting on his wristband as if to remind Rakal he was recording everything they said.

  “You think someone caused the crash to stop you from investigating,” Rakal said.

  “I make no accusations,” Jainan said. His voice was hoarse. He had spent the last hour laying out his Kingfisher research in exhaustive detail. Rakal showed no sign of being tired; they ran the interview like a belt grinding over a gear—the same questions over and over again until Jainan started to doubt his own facts. “We were not subtle about our investigations.”

  “You should not have been investigating at all,” Rakal said, but with curt impatience that said they knew it was too late for that.

  “You knew about the hacking already,” Kiem said. He’d taken another half of a stim tab when the flyer had landed, in spite of Jainan’s objections, so he was at least talking coherently. “You’ve had days to link it up with Jainan’s information. Stop pretending you don’t have your own theories. You’ve gotten much further than we have, haven’t you?”

  Rakal sighed and touched the bridge of their nose, a gesture so uncharacteristic that Jainan wondered if he had started hallucinating. “Your Highness,” Rakal said shortly. “I am going to ask you to stop recording so we can have a genuine conversation. I will ask this once.”

  Kiem met Jainan’s eyes. Jainan nodded. “All right,” Kiem said reluctantly. “We’ve already obeyed your Imperial Voice command, though, so if you make any threats, we’re leaving.”