Once she was on the bridge, Judit didn’t know what to do. They were under way. The data chip was in Beatrice’s hands. Evie was back on her station. Noal had gone, maybe to see Spartan, maybe to change. All of a sudden, Judit was acutely conscious of the makeup and the prosthetics still on her face. The clothes felt heavy, too, as if they were made of steel instead of the finest fabrics. “I’ll be in my quarters.”
She heard a chorus of acknowledgments, but she was already thinking ahead. In her quarters, she stripped off the implants and the costume. She took the streaks out of her hair and stepped into the shower to let the hot water cleanse the makeup and soothe her tired muscles. She kept seeing her father’s face as he turned her down and walked bravely to his fate. She should have tried one of the many scenarios she’d imagined: leaping at the guards, smuggling him into the tram. She could have used the Damat to rain terror onto the planet and confuse their pursuers. She could have had her father break into the planetary defense grid and take the whole thing down. They could be on her ship right now, laughing and talking about what a great adventure they’d had.
But, a dutiful voice inside her said, if she’d done all that, how many people would have been injured or killed? How many lives would she have destroyed trying to save her father from a fate he could get himself out of, as Noal said? And have the Damat fire on Freemen, fire on House Meridian? Where had that thought even come from? One rejection from her father and she was ready to shoot her own people? But what good was being the chosen one if she couldn’t actually accomplish anything?
The alarm in the shower pinged, and the water shut off. She’d used up her allotment. It was a rule in space even a captain had to abide by. Judit leaned against the wall, glad she’d scrubbed her face, unable to remember if she’d washed the rest of her, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She lifted her head and breathed deep. She couldn’t stay there, couldn’t afford to wallow. She’d already told herself that. Annika was counting on her; the crew of the Damat was counting on her. She couldn’t afford self-pity. If she’d made the wrong choice, she’d have to live with that, have to spend the rest of her life making up for it.
Maybe there was something she could do for her father. Roberts could make it seem as if the Damat had been somewhere else all along. Then no one could accuse her father of helping her. But who would they think he’d been compiling information for? That didn’t matter. He could convince the authorities he’d been putting together a report for someone official, and that his arrest was a big misunderstanding.
Judit toweled off, trying to think of a better strategy, when her jaw tingled, and Beatrice’s voice said, “Jude?”
“What is it?”
“You’d better get up here. We’re getting a message over the Meridian feed.”
Judit donned her uniform hurriedly and raced to the bridge. Noal was already there, everyone watching the main holo display where Judit’s grandmother was standing behind a podium in front of the Meridian seal. Judit knew that seal. It decorated the wall on the bottom floor of the main government building on Meridian Prime. Judit’s mother stood beside her, and though her expression was still unflappable, Judit thought she detected a bit of tightness around the eyes that outsiders might miss.
“It is with great sorrow that we announce a traitor in our midst,” Judit’s grandmother said solemnly. “One guilty of supplying information to our enemies and furthering this rebellion against our long established, magnanimous power.”
Judit gripped the arm of her chair, knowing what was coming and unable to stop it. “What are they doing? They can’t do this.”
Noal took her arm. “Jude—”
“Quiet!”
“Today,” her grandmother said, “we arrested one brought into our family, accepted into our hearts only to turn his back and betray us all. Tam Ada-Meridian—”
Judit slammed her hand down on the arm of her chair. “No!”
Noal gripped her arm harder. “Wait, wait!”
“—will be put to death, executed tomorrow for treason and crimes against our House. That is all.” Without another word, her grandmother turned and left the podium. The feed went dark, though Judit bet the news agencies were still speculating.
The bridge erupted into gasps and whispers. “What about a trial?” Evie said.
“They can’t do that,” Beatrice said.
Noal had a hand to his mouth. “They must be operating under war protocols.”
“Lying, dark eating bastards!” Judit said. “Open a channel to Prime!”
Roberts nodded. “I’ll set up the signal to bounce—”
“Now!”
Noal pulled on her arm. “Jude, they’ll track us.”
“I don’t care! My father didn’t supply information to any enemies. He gave it to us!”
Noal pulled harder, swinging her around. “We are enemies in Grandmother’s eyes, Judit! We became the enemy the moment we didn’t come home.”
“I can say something. I can persuade them. The only reason he didn’t go with us is because he didn’t want to betray his house!”
“They’ll only tell you to come back,” Beatrice said as she stood. “Maybe tell you they’ll spare his life, but only if you turn yourselves and Annika in. This whole thing could be a bluff.”
Was her grandmother that devious? Judit put her head in her hands and tried to think. It couldn’t be true, couldn’t be happening. It was all a mistake, and she only had to make them see!
“We can bounce the signal,” Noal said at her side, “but you know what will happen. She won’t say anything of substance.”
Her grandmother might even be waiting for Judit to ride to her father’s rescue so they could all be snatched up in one go. “We’d never get back to Freemen alive, would we?”
“Not even close. And we’d darking sure never get anywhere near Prime.”
Judit shook her head. “Bounce the signal. I’ll take it in my office.” Before anyone could argue, she said, “I have to try.”
In her office, she paced. They had to get to the nearest transmission gate and wait while signals were sent. Roberts would be using their codes to try and put her through to her grandmother’s office, but they wouldn’t have the latest codes. By the time he was done, everyone on Meridian Prime would know she was calling, and someone would probably be able to track their signal. She was about to tell Roberts to forget it when her jaw tingled.
“Boss? I’ve got your mother on the comm.”
“Got it.” She keyed her console on. Her mother wasn’t bothering with a holo. She hunched over a screen in what looked like the command center on Prime. Her face filled the view as if she was trying to hide her screen from everyone else.
“Judit, about time you called.” Her voice was imperious, nearly toneless, as if even the impending execution of her husband couldn’t rattle her. She spoke in Meridian code, and Judit had to struggle for a moment to remember it all.
“I need to talk to Grandmother. She can’t execute my father!”
Her mother’s left eye twitched. “He gave information to Nocturna. Nothing can save him.” She glanced away. “Nothing should save him.”
Judit couldn’t speak for several seconds. “No, he didn’t! He gave information to me! And I’m still a member of this family. Annika isn’t…” She was about to say that Annika wasn’t on the ship, but she had to remember that everyone could be listening. “It was just a few hours ago—”
Her mother held up a hand. “We have evidence.”
“No! It’s a mistake. It was me!”
“Come home.”
“Will…will he be all right if I do?”
Her mother’s head tilted, and her expression seemed as if it might crack. Was she thinking about lying? Did any part of her want to save her husband? A hand landed on her mother’s shoulder, turning her roughly aside, and then Judit’s grandmother’s face appeared on the screen.
“Tam’s fate is sealed,” Grandmother said. If anything, she seemed sterner than ever.
“Return home, Judit, and you can save your family further embarrassment.”
“Promise that my father will be spared if I do.” It might be childish, but it gave her hope. She’d go home alone. Noal and Annika could carry on without her. Maybe she’d find some way to help them from inside Meridian. “I won’t lead a fleet, but—”
Her grandmother sneered. “Your cooperation isn’t necessary. One way or another, we will achieve peace, and if we have to truss you up on some other captain’s bridge in order to garner your participation, so be it. Come for him, Judit. Try and save him.”
The feed cut out.
Judit clenched a fist, rage boiling inside her. If her grandmother wanted a fight—
“Don’t play into her hands,” Noal said from the door.
Judit leapt out of her seat. “What are you doing?” She looked past him, but he was alone.
“You were so focused on that old bag, you didn’t hear me come in.” His voice was calm, but there was sorrow in his eyes. “Don’t let her bait you.”
“She’s going to execute my father, Noal! She’s…framing him somehow, saying he’s fed information to Nocturna, but that’s not right!”
“I know.”
“She’s going to kill him.”
“Whatever she’s going to do, she wants you mad enough to try to ride to his rescue. You can’t fight the Meridian fleet.”
“I can go by myself.”
“Then she’ll have you and still execute your father.”
She grabbed a palm computer from her desk and threw it against the wall. “I can’t sit and do nothing!”
“You have to. If you’re going to stay with us, stay free, and help everyone like you want to, you have to do nothing.”
“Like the dark.” She strode past him and headed for the bridge. “Roberts, I want a wide, long-range transmission. We’re going to tell everyone who will listen that my father is innocent. Meridian thinks he betrayed them to Nocturna. We know that’s not true. We need to make everyone else see it. Maybe with enough pressure, my grandmother will give in.”
It was a long shot, but if it was all she could do, she was going to do it.
“On it, Boss,” Roberts said.
Judit walked from the bridge, waving behind her in case anyone tried to follow. She needed to be alone. In her mind she was still calculating the risks of a return to Freemen, an assault on the military there. They wouldn’t fire on her, not on their chosen one. She could use herself as a shield. And they would subdue her, and she’d be the chosen one from a prison cell, helpless.
She spent the night in her quarters, glued to the vids, waiting for news. Roberts gave her the occasional update. Many people acknowledged their message; many protested her father’s sentence. It seemed as if quite a few people in the galaxy had been following the exploits of the Damat ever since the kidnapping. Elidia had been singing their praises. Judit and Annika were fast becoming the galaxy’s favorite couple, especially since people saw them as rebelling against their houses.
All the Meridian news outlets were talking about the impending execution, acknowledging the protests and speculating about how Judit’s grandmother would answer them. Many were just tearing her father to shreds, and she screamed at them in impotent rage. There was a feed from Freemen that was a view of a square, no commentary, just a countdown until the execution was to take place. Judit imagined her grandmother watching the same feed, waiting for Judit to come rushing in. Some of the other feeds switched to that view occasionally, speculating as to what sort of execution it was going to be, how it could have been prevented, and what it might mean for the future.
“Nothing,” Judit said with a growl. She clutched a plastic bowl. Someone had brought her dinner some time ago, but she’d thrown it at the wall along with many of her other possessions. Now she threw the bowl again for good measure. “She has to listen!”
Her door chimed.
“Go away!” she shouted.
“Let me in,” Noal said, “or I’m going to get Evie to force the door, and then she’ll see the mess you’ve no doubt made of your room.”
“Fine, come in, but shut up.”
The door opened, and he walked in, mumbling something as he stepped over the chaos on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed, behind her chair, and she felt him there, could almost hear him breathing. It made her want to shout at him to leave, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the feed of the empty square.
Finally, the timer expired. Judit’s stare fixed on the row of zeroes, and she began to count her breaths. One, two, three…
Her father appeared on the screen, walking into the square, wrists shackled in front of him. He stood surrounded by an escort. Under other circumstances, it might have been an honor guard.
“No,” Judit said softly. “No, she can’t. She has to listen.”
“By the dark,” Noal whispered.
A holo in the square winked to life, showing Judit’s grandmother and mother with a sea of Meridian faces watching stoically in the background. They’d set up a holo so they could watch from Prime. Judit’s father’s face was pale but set, as if he’d come to terms with what was happening to him. There wasn’t a microphone anywhere near him, but the square was absolutely silent. Judit wanted him to cry out about what he’d done, to beg for mercy in the hopes that her grandmother would grant it, but he said nothing, merely stared into the camera. His face leapt large as the camera zoomed, and his eyes bored through all of space and into Judit’s heart.
“Don’t,” she said. Noal reached for her shoulder, and she gripped his hand hard. “Please, Noal, make it stop. Make her listen.”
“It’s not your fault, Jude.”
Her grandmother went over the charges again. She said that treason could never be forgiven, that Meridian answered to no one. Judit clenched her hands into fists.
The guards unbound her father’s hands and left him to stand on his own. Judit begged in her heart for him to run, to at least make them work for it, but he stood still.
Her grandmother finished her speech with “…death by neurotoxin.”
Judit gripped Noal’s hand so hard it probably pained him, but he said nothing. On the vid, her father’s expression didn’t change. Neurotoxin. Sometime during his incarceration, he’d been fitted with a small device to his neck that would inject him with a powerful poison. He wouldn’t have known when it was put there or by whom, but she bet his neck had been itching all day, that he’d felt around it more than once, but the device would be so thin and small he’d never have found it.
One heartbeat passed, then two, long enough for Judit’s hopes to rise. The first thing her grandmother would do was cut the feeds. Since her plan to lure Judit hadn’t worked, she wouldn’t want any evidence that—
Her father inhaled sharply, and his eyes widened before they relaxed. The most blissful smile spread over his face before he crumpled to the ground.
Silence. Judit held her breath. He didn’t move.
“Get up,” Judit muttered, her body gone cold. “Dad?”
Utter silence reigned in the square and on the vids. Then a crowd began murmuring, some applauding, but maybe the rest were shocked by a gesture that hadn’t been necessary in years. A commentator on another feed began speaking in a low voice, but Judit couldn’t understand him, couldn’t understand anything but the body of her father lying on the platform as the doctors pronounced him dead.
The noise of the crowd swelled, and the commentator had to raise his voice. On the holo, Judit’s grandmother made the pronouncement that justice had been served before she turned and walked away. Judit’s mother stayed rooted to the spot, holographic eyes on her dead mate. Judit knew she’d loved him at least a little, maybe never as much as he’d loved her, but there was something like sorrow and regret in those eyes. And Judit bet there was a lot of blame there, too, all of it laid at Judit’s feet.
The holo blinked out, and the feed cut to the commentator. Judit turned it off, and the silence o
f her quarters surrounded her. She’d let go of Noal’s hand somewhere along the way, but she could feel the weight of his stare. He’d probably take his cues from her, but she didn’t know what to give him.
“It could be a trick,” Noal whispered.
She’d never wanted to hit him so much in all her life. She forced herself to sit still. Their family didn’t play games like that. Their grandmother would turn her nose up at such deception.
“I can’t believe…” Noal put a hand over his mouth. “Jude, I’m so sorry.”
She nodded and turned to him, and her desire to strike evaporated in the face of his grief. She’d never seen such sorrow in her family, and it broke through her walls. She wrapped her arms around him and dragged him forward. He hugged her as tightly, and they both wept.
* * *
Annika was aware of the pain first. She’d been hit with a stunner as part of her training, so she’d know the sensation. People always looked so limp afterward. Now she ached from the tip of her head to her toes, as if she’d overtaxed every muscle in her body.
Still, she stayed silent. A slight weight rested across her shoulders, her midsection, and both hands and legs. Cloth restraints. And the surface beneath her felt soft but not as much as a proper bed. Probably a medical or prison bed.
“I know you’re awake,” a woman’s voice said. Despite her training, Annika felt her hands twitch. She knew that voice, knew it in her core, though she hadn’t heard it in years. “You can control your body but not your brain waves.”
She felt it then, the whisper of weight that meant two electrodes were attached to her temples. She opened her eyes. If the game was up, there was no use pretending. “Hello, Mother.”
Her mother smiled down at her, and anger boiled up inside her. Her mother seemed older and not simply in years. Gray dotted the temples of her brown hair, and she had some lines in her pale skin, but her eyes were as brightly green as ever. Annika had a sudden memory of a woman who always seemed on edge, always looking over her shoulder.
Annika felt a tug inside, sorrow mixing with anger and trepidation. She tried not to let it show, not to let her mother rattle her. This was just another enemy. That had to be why she was restrained.
House of Fate Page 23
