by C. Gockel
Omharu was obviously used to overriding the chain of command. “Ensign Águila, if you want to keep your rank, you’ll let me in right slagging now.” Her voice was controlled, but her face was flushed with anger.
“Funny, that’s the same thing the captain told me about keeping people out.” Águila shrugged. The man’s body language said he was feeling confident. “Maybe we should ping the captain together and ask.”
Luka carefully schooled his face to keep his enjoyment from showing. Jerzi hid his smile by bending down to adjust his boot fastening.
“Ensign, you just bought yourself a whole galaxy of trouble.” She gave one last sweeping glare at Águila and everyone in the room, then stalked off.
“Asshole,” said Luka, just loud enough to be heard. Águila snorted, then turned it into a cough.
Razumovsky’s time estimate turned out to be optimistic, but an hour later, all the La Plata employees were finally transferred via pinnace to La Plata’s commercial ship, the Padrashan Librero.
Zheer met them in the small landing bay and graciously thanked the pinnace’s pilot in flawless Mandarin, then ushered them all into the formal dining room that doubled as a conference room. Luka liked the Padrashan better than most ships, but he was more than ready for solid, planetside ground under his feet.
He was happy to hear the Padrashan would be going transit within ten minutes, with an ETA at Rekoria in three ship days. He’d had enough of the Insche 255 system to last a lifetime, and the farther away he was from the zealous security officer, the better.
A buffet had been set up so they could help themselves. He tried not to watch Mairwen, because he knew he couldn’t hide his feelings for her, and keen-eyed Zheer was bound to notice.
A lot of questions were coming, and Zheer and Razumovsky needed information now, but he wasn’t willing to spend all night at it. Or was it day? He really had no idea. He wished he’d had even five minutes alone with Jerzi and Mairwen to discuss what he was about to say, but it couldn’t be helped.
He started by telling Zheer and Razumovsky the story they’d been telling Space Div, with Eve Haberville as the martyred hero. Then he told them what really happened, more or less, with the emphasis on less when it came to anything that hinted at Mairwen’s abilities and skills, and the emphasis on more when it came to assigning certain extraordinary events to luck or to Haberville. Such as how they'd avoided being killed by the Berjalan’s sabotage, or how the four of them overcame a merc squad of fifteen, stole a light-drive transport, and defeated a military-style corvette with a rigged laser.
Jerzi, to Luka’s deep gratitude, supported Luka’s mostly true but slanted version of events, and the one outright lie, wherein Luka blamed the spacer crew for Haberville's death. Mairwen only contributed when asked a direct question, and otherwise maintained her usual reticence. Luka had to continually fight his impulse to look at her to see how she was taking it.
Zheer rotated her coffee cup in its saucer, a familiar habit of hers when she was thinking. “Why did you tell Space Div that Haberville was the hero?”
Luka had an answer ready. “Because once they start stomping around, all the cockroaches will head for the dark corners, and we won’t have a chance to confirm who she worked for, or find out who sabotaged the Berjalan, or even who hired the mercs, here or in Etonver. You can’t hide a hybrid planet without help, or at least willful ignorance, from the Concordance government or the military. And I sure as hell didn’t want a CPS telepath mucking about in our minds, or one of their cleaners removing inconvenient memories that might contradict whatever official explanation they concoct.”
Most of the Space Div investigators he’d ever worked with tended to be linear thinkers, so he’d told them a story that suited their view of the universe. He personally didn’t care if they ever solved the fökking case or not, as long as Mairwen was as safe as he could make her. That included misleading his employer and lying shamelessly to Concordance Command. Even if it meant no justice for the murders of Leo Balkovsky and Adina Schmidt.
“Haberville never said who she worked for?” asked Razumovsky.
“No,” said Luka, “but I’d lay odds on Korisni Genetika. Like Tewisham said, the pharma industry is full of spying, dirty tricks, and double agents.”
He took a sip of water, glad it didn’t taste of purification chemicals.
“My working theory is that Korisni found out Loyduk Pharma, or its partner, was having to abandon Insche 255C for a while, and saw a golden opportunity to hijack their samples and research. Or maybe they’d already had someone on site, siphoning off the best discoveries, and decided to steal everything once Loyduk terminated the operation.” He splayed the fingers of his left hand. It was fully healed, but he hadn’t forgotten the pain. “I think Korisni arranged my kidnapping and interrogation in Etonver. They asked what I knew about Loyduk, which was a stupid question if Loyduk had hired them.”
“You believe Haberville was responsible for the virus that attacked Ta’foulou?”
“Yes,” said Luka, keeping his tone nonchalant. “She knew he entertained himself by monitoring the emergency comm system, and didn’t want him listening in on anything she did.” While possibly true, it was more likely that she’d disabled him so she’d be the only pilot, and had been unpleasantly surprised by Mairwen’s expertise. “I imagine she listened to all of us from time to time, too, in case we made decisions that threatened her agenda.”
Zheer’s icy look would have stopped a star in mid-solar flare. “Had I known of Ta’foulou’s weakness, I would have terminated him immediately. I don’t tolerate such abuse on any ship I operate.”
Luka wasn’t sure Zheer’s policy was enforceable, but at least her words put the Padrashan’s pilots on notice that they’d better not get caught.
Jerzi spoke up. “When we hit Horvax Station, Foxe got a message saying there’d been two infosec breaches. What were they?”
Zheer’s expression went sour. “Someone cloned our entire info hypercube when we did a network upgrade a couple of weeks ago. It was auctioned to at least two bidders we know of. If Luka’s suppositions are right, one was Korisni, which caused them to hire Haberville, and the other was Loyduk, through a fixer named Hildree Fannar. Needless to say, we’ve improved our procedures in that area. We believe one of the bidders found the Amhur address and hired a crew to go there, looking for Onndrae. The Etonver police think members of a theft crew they recently detained might have been involved.”
Luka nodded, pleased that another loose thread was being addressed. “Connected to Loyduk, I’d say. Their corporate culture is stupidly tightfisted. I bet they thought they could save money by using their cheaper theft crew instead of hiring wetwork pros.”
“And the other breach?” prompted Jerzi.
Zheer and Razumovsky exchanged a look, and Razumovsky answered. “On the day the Berjalan left Rekoria, Foxe’s assistant Velasco went missing. La Plata assumed he had taken an unannounced vacation, which he’d been warned against several times before. Therefore, we terminated him, as Foxe knows from the message. However, he turned up three days later claiming to have been kept prisoner at a joyhouse and mentally interrogated by his sex partners. We later confirmed his explanation.”
Luka was amused by the lawyer’s careful answer, which implied a lot of damage control. Reading between the lines, they’d assumed Velasco to be an irresponsible oaf, which he mostly was, and had fired him, then discovered evidence that he’d been the victim he’d been claiming all along. La Plata probably had to offer Velasco his job back, or a monetary settlement, or both.
“Taking La Plata to court, is he?” asked Luka. Zheer’s acid glare confirmed his guess.
Razumovsky gave him a calculating look. “Since he’s your assistant…”
Luka interrupted. “I was already planning to request a new assistant as soon as we got back.” He knew the company lawyer, of all people, would know Luka’s contract made it his choice. Luka didn't care what La Plata did
with Velasco, as long as they assigned him elsewhere.
A wave of mental exhaustion washed over him.
“Look, we’ll be happy to answer more questions and make all the reports you want, but Morganthur, Adams, and I have had one hell of a week. Could we take this up again after we’ve had about twenty-four hours of downtime?”
After only a moment’s hesitation, Zheer said, “Of course.” Razumovsky nodded his agreement.
Zheer looked at each of them, her eyes darting to the various patches and holes in their clothes. “Captain Okeanos was kind enough to inform us that you arrived on the Khong Met Moi with little more than the shirts on your backs, so we made some purchases from their supplymaster. I’ll have Ravan show you to your quarters.” She stood, which was the cue for everyone else to do the same.
More than clothes, sleep, or a hot shower, Luka wanted time alone with Mairwen, but he couldn’t think of a way to make that happen, not without making them both the center of attention, which she’d hate. Helvítis, but it was going to be a lonely few days.
27 * Interstellar: “Padrashan Librero” * GDAT 3237.047 *
FOR THE ENTIRE debriefing, Mairwen had listened attentively to Luka’s careful weaving of truth and misdirection, confirming details when asked but volunteering nothing. It would take someone with Luka’s brilliance to unravel it, and no one else in the room came close.
All the while, she’d wrestled with herself over what to do about Luka personally. Actually, the wrestling had started when he hovered over her like a guard dog on the Khong Met Moi, ready to defend her with the nearest bone laser to prevent the medic from taking even a blood sample without her permission.
The cautious part of her brain, the part she’d diligently cultivated after escaping the CPS, urged her to fade into the background and wait to see what happened once they got back to Etonver. The fact that she finally figured out that she loved him with shocking intensity didn’t mean a relationship would work. Even if it did, it would at least be prudent to keep it secret.
They were all excuses. She’d known days ago there would be no going back into the shadows, not if she wanted to stay with Luka. She wanted that more than anything. She was deathly tired of merely existing, avoiding risk, not using her skills, never enjoying the freedom she’d fought so hard for.
That was all very well, but she didn’t know what to do about it. Was there some sort of social protocol for telling friendly co-workers like Jerzi, or powerful company officers like Zheer, that she planned to stay with Luka? She hadn't even told him. It suddenly occurred to her that even that wouldn’t be possible if she was still considered to be on duty.
“… I’ll have Ravan show you to your quarters,” Zheer was saying. It was suddenly the end of the meeting and everyone was standing up.
Before she lost her courage, Mairwen spoke up.
“What about the security detail for Foxe?”
Zheer stopped mid-step, nonplussed. “I wasn’t aware he still needed protection. We’re in transit, with trusted employees and contractors... Oh, I see your point.” She gave Mairwen a considering look. “Your dedication is... unanticipated. I imagine it’s part of why you’re all still alive. Are you volunteering?”
Mairwen felt Luka step up behind her, so close she could feel the heat of his body on hers. She just barely stopped herself from melting against him.
She needn’t have bothered, because he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back to him possessively. Her heart skipped erratically.
“No, she’s not,” Luka said firmly. “She needs rest as much as I do. All three of us will need protection until we can record our official statements. I’m sure you brought enough staff depth to cover it.” She felt his breath against her ear, and she had to slam down her senses to stop her body from responding.
Mairwen mentally held her breath, waiting for Zheer’s reaction.
Outside of a momentary eyebrow lift, Zheer’s only response was to say she’d take care of it, then to blandly lead them to a corridor and point. “Your names are on the doors. Breakfast will be at seven. We’ll talk tomorrow evening.”
Their rooms were clustered together. Jerzi found his and said he’d see them all later, then sealed the door behind him.
The singleton rooms assigned to her and to Luka weren’t much bigger than utility closets, but the pull-down beds were wider and better padded than those on the Khong Met Moi, and the control panels had individual lighting and temperature controls. Each room had bags of military-issue work clothes and toiletries. Luka took charge and brought her bags into his room and put them all on the chair.
He sealed the door, then pulled her tightly into his arms and hard up against him. Any doubts she might have had about whether or not he wanted to stay with her faded away. She clung to him as if he was a life raft in a turbulent sea.
He reached out one hand and fumbled for the control panel, turning up the heat and setting the lights at half-glow. He stroked her back and gently kissed her face around the wounded areas.
“I’m never playing games of chance again. I used up all my luck when I met you.” His smile was teasing, but there was a tinge of desire to it.
Happiness bubbled in her, and she laughed at his hyperbole. “Probability doesn’t accrue.”
“I know, but I love the poetry of it.”
He reverently took her face in his hands and kissed her expertly and thoroughly.
“I love your laugh.” He kissed her again. “Ég elska þig. I love you.”
“I love you,” she whispered, then kissed him with no expertise, but with everything she was feeling, everything she had to give him. The taste and the scent of him drenched her senses.
The aching that had plagued her chest and arms turned to liquid fire. She pulled out his shirttail so she could burrow her hands under and splay them on his warm skin and firm muscles. A moan vibrated through her and she couldn’t tell if it was his or hers.
“You're not still in pain, are you?” he asked. The moan must have been hers, then.
He started on the buttons of her shirt. She tried to help, but the tremors had already started, and she couldn’t hold her fingers steady.
“Not much. You?” Her command of words was slipping fast.
“No.” He kissed her neck behind her ear, making her gasp. “Right now, I wouldn't care if I was.”
He undid the last button and pushed her shirt off her shoulders. She let it drop behind her on the floor. She released her wrist and ankle sheaths and put them on the shelf above the desk. He practically ripped his shirt off.
His muscled chest and bare skin were entrancing, and she had to touch. She traced the remnants of the bruised discoloration on his right shoulder with delicate fingers. It troubled her that he'd been injured.
He grabbed her fingers and brought them to his lips for a kiss.
“Don't you dare apologize for me getting hurt.” He pulled her close and lowered his voice to a whisper in her ear that sent a tingling wave through her. “We'd be dead three times over if it wasn't for you. If anything, I owe you an apology. I should have… evaluated Haberville a lot sooner.”
She appreciated that even when deeply distracted, he remembered that little pilots might still have big ears, and they each had secrets to keep.
He traced the bottom edge of the narrow-strapped, tape-patched tank top she wore. “Have I told you how plasma hot you are in these?”
His questing hand swirled under and up to the pebbled peak of her breast, and she arched into his caress. She tried to speak, but a tremor rippled through her like overload flux in a light drive. She gasped involuntarily and struggled to regain control of her sensory inputs and her body’s response.
To her regret, he moved his hand away from her breast, but his other arm tightened around her and brought her flat against him. “We'll go as slow as you need, elskan,” he said.
She wanted this so badly, but she was afraid she was too impaired. She wished she knew what to do, other th
an try not to have seizures.
He slowly caressed her back under her tank. “I know it’s rude to ask, but have you had other lovers?”
She remembered he’d said he’d had a few, and she was glad at least one of them had.
“Not… lovers.”
She didn’t want to distress him, but he deserved to know that she didn’t have the right kind of experience in what they were about to do. Or at least, in what she hoped they were about to do.
“In the first few months of, uh, school, trainers used sex on all of us for discipline. That stopped once we learned… skills.”
“Defensive skills,” he said.
She could hear the anger in his voice, and she wanted to soothe it away, but didn’t know how. She couldn’t change her past, only her future.
“Some students found relief with each other, but I had no interest, even after I left. I thought I was permanently broken.” She nuzzled her face into his neck and inhaled his exotic scent, letting it curl up into her nose. “Until I met you.”
“I’ll try to make it good for you, ástin mín. My love.” The rumble of his voice and the pressure of his breath against her ear made her tremble. She licked his neck with little touches of her tongue, savoring him, then kissed and licked along his collarbone. The taste of him was irrevocably associated in her memory with love and desire.
She moved back from him long enough to pull her bedraggled tank off over her head and drop it on the floor. She pressed her chest to his, drawing little soft moans from them both.
His breath was ragged. “Chaos, but I’ve wanted this. And for once, no one’s trying to kill us.”
She smiled. “So far.”
“Hush, woman, you’ll jinx us.” He kissed her as if to keep her from saying more, but the kiss grew more sensual when she took his hands and brought them back up to her breasts. This time, she managed to hold off the tremor until his mouth found their pebbled tips. The sensations shredded her control and drowned coherent thought.
He kissed her mouth again, then pulled away. “I have too many clothes on, and so do you.”
