“We need two seats on the next shuttle,” Noal said.
“Of course.” She smiled before hurrying away to bump someone out of their seats. It made Judit frown, even though she knew it was the way things were supposed to be. With the Damat under her charge, she’d never had to worry about it.
Noal gave Judit a languid smile, but his eyes widened a little as if warning her. The room might have cameras. She sipped her champagne and tried not to grind her teeth. Too many emotions were piling on top of her. She worried for Annika, she wanted to sneer at the surroundings—she’d made fun of too many fawning courtiers to enjoy them—and she was impatient to be moving. And the damn silver mesh covering part of her face was really starting to annoy her.
Luckily, they didn’t have long to wait before being escorted down a hidden hallway and led to a waiting shuttle. A small curtain around their seats gave them privacy. Several nonblood looked their way as they sat, and she wondered if they were thinking of those who’d been bumped. They should count themselves lucky. If she and Noal had been riding under their real identities, the shuttle would have been emptied for their trip.
Once everyone was seated, the crew gave a brief announcement about safety, and everyone buckled restraining harnesses over their chests. After a short countdown, the shuttle dropped from the station with a stomach-turning lurch. They glided smoothly for a few seconds until they entered Freemen’s atmosphere, then the entire craft shook and rumbled as if being rattled by a giant hand. Noal clutched Judit’s arm. The ride down to a planet on a small craft was much rougher than the Damat and not as smooth as a space elevator, though those took longer. But Noal had never liked G-forces, and she patted his arm, feeling her protective urges rearing up along with the other darking feelings. He shut his eyes, and she wondered who else was wishing they were somewhere else.
Vids played on the wall in front of them, designed to distract, even for the short trip. There were no windows, but one of the vid feeds was an external camera. Judit watched as the large forests of Freemen came closer, a sea of dark greens with the Meridian buildings lost among them, but the shuttle dock was a huge platform that stuck up from the foliage like a giant’s dinner plate. She pressed forward against her restraint as the shuttle pulled up hard on the dark surface of the platform, but they settled within moments, and the sound of the engines dulled as they powered down.
“We’re here,” she said.
Noal let out a breath. “Sometimes, I wish I had your courage.”
She nearly barked a laugh. “Earlier I was wishing I had your patience.”
“Oh.” He stared, seemingly touched, then leaned against her shoulder. “No matter what, we stay together.”
She leaned her head against his briefly, knowing she’d love him no matter what, too. “I never once pictured one of us without the other.” It was the way it had always been, would always be.
“Well,” he said as he unbuckled his harness. “Let’s go add one more to our team.”
The shuttle held the other passengers while Judit and Noal disembarked, so they had the elevator into the docking base to themselves. The Freemen base looked much like the station above with its white walls, but the light on the planet came from enormous windows rather than artificial sources. And unlike the windows on Meridian Prime, these seemed real, letting in the dazzling sunlight that shone above Freemen’s forested canopy.
Signs for the tram system led them down a grand staircase, and as they passed below the level of the canopy, the light dimmed. The view from the window changed from a sea of green leaves to lines of massive brown trunks with few branches below their crowns.
The trams departed and arrived from the lowest level of the base. People lined up in front of doors that would lead into the cars as they stopped. Another small crowd stood before a holo showing the day’s schedule with a map of all the stops. The deep roots of the trees made building belowground difficult, so the tubes ran between the massive trunks, and the bulk of the buildings were built high in the branches. Pride added to all the emotions already beating against Judit’s defenses. Her people went with the flow of each planet they owned, not wanting to detract from any natural beauty. They knew how to adapt, at least with their buildings. With their neighbors? Not so much.
“Tam works in the main government building?” Noal asked as they approached the schedule and map.
Judit thought fast. She knew what her father did. She knew what planet he did it on, but what building? “I’ve never been here before, and I don’t know that he ever said.”
“Hmm.” He glanced around and headed for another holo kiosk labeled Information.
Judit looked for anyone paying them too much attention and for the platinum hair of Blood. People stayed out of their way as they were, but if they’d been traveling under their real identities, they would have had an escort, someone to clear the way. Noal might have been mobbed by well-wishers, maybe those searching for autographs. It had happened before, though Judit had never felt he was in danger. Now people barely looked at their faces, just shuffling out of the way because of Meridian hair and features. She tried to keep up the imperious look Noal sported, but she feared she simply looked angry.
Noal fiddled with the directory. “Here he is: building four, garden district. I guess they have to put the gardens high since the light doesn’t reach the ground.” He swallowed visibly. “So we’ll be really, really high up the whole time we’re here. Goody.”
“I don’t know how someone who spends so much time in space can be afraid of heights,” Judit said as she scanned the crowd.
“And I won’t bother to explain the difference again. Now, stop watching everyone like a guardian. I’m going to look up a few more people to cover our tracks.”
“Sneaky. Is Annika rubbing off on you?”
“She has good ideas, but she’s far too paranoid.”
“Makes sense with her guardian training.”
He snorted, not looking away from the kiosk.
“What?” Judit asked.
“I’ve said everything I have to say on the subject of her training. You know how I feel.”
She just couldn’t reconcile it with her own thoughts, her own memories. She’d never seen Annika in action. And she hoped Noal would suddenly forget what he claimed to have seen, though she didn’t know why that mattered to her. “Nocturna,” she said slowly, “has different ways of training, that’s all.”
“If those people on the kidnappers’ ship were her first kills, I’m a purple otter.”
She shook her head, determined not to think about that if she didn’t have to. “Hurry up, will you? Some of the trams are arriving any minute.”
He swallowed again, and she knew he was thinking of all the air between them and the ground. “Done. Come on.”
Standing before their designated door, they could see through the tube that held the tram. Judit’s eyes followed the line of a huge tree trunk, but it sank beyond her vision, nearly into blackness, reminding her of a vid she’d seen of the deep sea.
Noal avoided looking down, staring instead at where the station was anchored to several massive trees, their bark visible through one wall. Judit took a step closer to the edge, trying to see farther down, and Noal made a strangled noise in his throat.
Judit stepped back with a smile. “Sorry.”
“You’re not,” he muttered, still not looking.
The top half of the tram was glassteel, offering breathtaking views, with the bottom half covered in the same white metal and plastic as everything else on Freemen. Chairs faced forward and backward in a row along one side of the car, leaving the other side as an aisle. All the chairs were plastic except for the first two, and those were upholstered in soft purple fabric. Judit moved toward them, hoping no other Blood came aboard. She’d hate to have to present her fake credentials in a fight to prove who was most important.
As she began to sit, Noal said, “Wait.”
When Judit looked over her shoulder
, she saw pure platinum hair, a full member of the Blood. She made way, but when she focused on her cousin Cana’s face, she froze.
Noal poked her in the side, and she got moving again. Cana didn’t even look at them as she took one of the first seats. There were no backward-facing seats behind the purple ones, and the second row made way for Judit and Noal. Judit sat and stared at the back of her cousin’s head. What if she turned? Were their disguises good enough?
Noal gripped her hand, and she wondered if his heart was thundering as loudly. It was a wonder the whole tram couldn’t hear it. Cana wore a white sundress without ornament or cosmetics. Blood could afford to be bland, but the fabric still looked marvelous against her dark skin. Judit thought of the Impirion emeralds, wondered where they were today, if her cousin had brought them for her visit to Freemen.
Noal clutched her tighter, and when she looked at him, his eyes were wide in warning again. She knew she was frowning, unable to help it. He must have known how badly she wanted to say something.
The tram slid noiselessly forward, the trees whizzing by; sunlight flashed through the dense canopy above. Judit’s stomach began to knot, and she couldn’t take her eyes of the sweep of Cana’s hair, wondering when she’d turn.
No, she had to look away, to think of her father. She’d never been nervous to see him before, but now she wondered what she’d say to convince him to come with her. As far as abducting him went, there was no way they could wrestle him through the tram, the shuttle base, and the station in orbit. Besides, she didn’t want to take him by force.
The tram made its first stop. Cana stirred, and Judit’s heart leapt into her mouth, but Cana didn’t stand.
“One more,” Noal breathed.
Passengers changed. The tram slipped forward again. Noal didn’t even wait for a full stop before he stood; he wasn’t the only one, though people got out of his way. Judit resisted the urge to look over her shoulder and heard an impatient sigh.
Cana. And she needed to get past them to leave. Judit’s belly turned to ice. Slowly, she drew back into the space between the seats, towing Noal with her. From the side, his face looked as terrified as she felt.
Cana glanced at them as she passed, her gaze flicking up and down their bodies, and then she was gone without a hint of recognition in her eyes.
Judit breathed out slowly. Noal seemed as if his knees might buckle. Judit hauled him up and hurried them to the door before the tram could move, and several other passengers had to hurry even faster.
Noal clutched Judit’s arm as Cana walked up a stairway, exiting the station. “By the dark,” he muttered.
“No kidding. You okay?”
“I had several heart attacks, but I’m probably fine.”
She patted his hand. “Your cosmetics skill passed the ultimate test.”
“If we’re caught, I want that in my eulogy.”
The garden district was built close to the canopy, with rays of sunlight dappling its buildings, walkways, and fountains. Building four was the tallest, though only two stories. Its curved roof nearly pierced the canopy itself, and its white façade stood out blindingly as the wandering sunlight struck it.
Inside, Judit realized they needed another plan. Beyond a large, carpeted foyer, staircases stretched to the second floor, but they were guarded by gray-uniformed military. A huge wooden desk sat between the two staircases, but instead of holos to guide visitors or confirm appointments, receptionists smiled at those who entered. One looked up eagerly at Noal, clearly ready to please.
Judit stood back while Noal turned up his charm to one hundred and fifty. He claimed he and Judit had a meeting in the building then implied that the receptionist’s good looks were worth skipping a meeting or two. By the time Noal was done, the man was babbling and blushing and giving Noal all the information he wanted. With a wink, Noal said they’d be back when the receptionist got off work and led Judit outside.
“For someone who isn’t interested in having a stable full of lovers,” Judit said, “you certainly could if you wanted.”
“I feel a little bad that I won’t be here for our dinner.”
She grinned wickedly. “What if we are? I mean, what if this takes longer than we thought, and you have to show? He might want to bring you home.”
Noal rolled his eyes; his cheeks were probably on fire. He tried to give a nonchalant shrug, but she bet he had no idea what he’d do if backed into a corner. Not to mention that Noal was the most monogamous member of the Blood she’d met besides herself. He wouldn’t cheat on Spartan even if they weren’t yet a couple.
“So, did you get us an appointment?” she asked.
“I figured going to Tam’s office should be the last thing we do. I discovered instead that Tam Ada-Meridian takes his lunch in the same garden at the same time nearly every day.”
Of course he did. Her father loved the outdoors. That she did know, and it lightened her heart that he got to work in surroundings that made him happy. They made their way to the small garden and waited, passing a stressful two hours. Judit rehearsed many speeches in her mind, but when her father turned the corner of the little garden near his building, a cold, nervous feeling spread through her. All the speeches blew out of her mind.
The sun brought out the copper in his hair, making it bright as a halo. He strolled, one hand in the pocket of his long blue jacket, the other holding a small case, no doubt his lunch. He looked out into the trees with a happy smile.
“Hello, Dad,” she said.
He pulled up slowly, as well versed in schooling his expressions as any of them, but when he focused on her, his mouth opened slightly. “I don’t…” He stepped closer. “Judit? Noal? What?” He looked around, but they were alone. When he looked back to them, his eyes shimmered slightly, but he didn’t cry.
“Jude,” he whispered. He looked toward the camera she’d already spotted, the one she had her back to. He took a step and lifted his hand as if he might touch her dyed hair. “Are you all right? They don’t know you’re here, do they?”
“No, and I don’t want them to.” She took a deep breath, trying to bring her emotions under control. “We’re all right. But we need you to come with us, Dad, come with me, back to the Damat. We need your help. You can tell us what you know about the chaos that’s been going on and help us sort this mess out.”
He took a deep breath. “You came all this way to get me?” He seemed pleased by the fact until his smile turned sad. “For the information.”
“We turned to you,” Noal said, “because we need family right now, and we knew you wouldn’t order us to turn ourselves in.”
He took another shuddering breath. “I may not be as in the loop as you think.”
“Better than we are.” Judit’s heart began to sink at the thought that this wouldn’t work. “Please, Dad. You need to decide right now. We can’t wait.”
“Have you been in contact with your grandmother? Your parents, Noal?”
“Grandmother, no,” Noal said, “and I’ve seen even less of my parents than Jude has of you.”
Her father sighed. “This isn’t the life I wanted for you, either of you. You have to know that. I argued and pleaded—”
Judit held up a hand. She wanted to hear everything, but instead of feeling so open, the trees of Freemen felt as if they were closing in. “Please, Dad, we can talk later. Will you come with us?”
Another breath. “No.”
As little as she knew him, it still felt like a stab. She couldn’t catch her breath, then she let her training take over, schooled her face to neutral. There’d be time for crushing disappointment later. “Fine. Noal, let’s go.”
Her father caught her arm. “Jude, wait. I love you, but I also love your mother, and I can’t abandon her now. She needs me here, what with all the raids and the panic. I’m keeping things cool.” He shook his head, his expression stricken. “I would love to go jaunting off with you, to get to the bottom of what’s going on, but I also need to put out th
e fires. Please, understand.”
That was what she’d been doing all her life. “You made your decision. Let me go.”
His face fell as if she’d told him she’d never loved him, but he didn’t let go. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll get you a data chip with some information. Then your trip won’t have been…wasted.”
He strode back toward his building. Judit turned farther from the camera and leaned on the railing, tempted to leave, but she knew she’d be fleeing from her emotions more than anything else. She needed that chip if she couldn’t have him. She’d been so certain he’d say yes. Maybe they really should have grabbed him.
“You okay?” Noal asked.
She shrugged when she wanted to mope. “It’s not as if we know each other. I should have expected this.”
“He’s going to give us a chip. That’s something.”
“Right.”
“It doesn’t mean he loves you any less than you thought.”
“Right.” But she’d been picturing them finally getting to know each other while traveling on the Damat, finally feeling close to someone in her family other than Noal. She supposed it could be worse; she could be sneaking across Nocturna Prime at the moment, trying to steal what her father was freely giving.
Chapter Fourteen
Antiles couldn’t land on Nocturna Prime itself, not without a good reason, and Annika didn’t want to attract such scrutiny. She guided him to Caligo, the largest and busiest of Nocturna’s moons. Luckily, he’d been there before, though he didn’t elaborate on what he’d sold or to whom. Annika didn’t press. The fewer questions she asked, the fewer she expected to answer.
The moon itself was green and silver, a fairly unassuming ball of rock for the most part, but peeking through the craggy exterior, Annika spotted metal, glassteel, and piping, all of it hinting at the underground installations that ran beneath Caligo’s surface. Ships crisscrossed the air above it, and Caligo’s technicians guided them to landing surfaces that took them briskly underground and stowed them until the owners were cleared to depart. A quick getaway was nearly impossible.
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