End Game

by Lindsay Buroker

  “You can’t tell him yourself?”

  “I could, but then you’d still be in here. I’d like a private moment with Leonidas.”

  “Round Two?” Mica grumbled something else inaudible, then strode out.

  “Do you want me to shut the hatch?” Leonidas asked.

  “No. I just…” Alisa sighed and switched from the sensor station seat to the pilot’s seat. She waved for him to take the co-pilot’s seat.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, sliding in behind her instead of next to her. He tapped a few controls at the sensor station, but he also rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m afraid I was wrong to keep Jelena with us, especially if we’re going into…” She waved toward the route ahead. “Just because she, and apparently I, have some resistance to radiation hardly makes us immune. At her age… who knows what exposure might do?”

  He squeezed her shoulder but did not answer.

  She looked back. He was frowning at the display.

  “Something just came into our range,” he said quietly.

  “Mafia? Alliance?”

  “Too small for either. And it doesn’t look to be moving.”

  “Some hapless ship that ran into the mafia and got picked on for target practice?”

  “It’s possible. It’s not far off our path, so I can get more data as we continue flying closer.”

  He tapped a few more buttons, and Alisa faced forward again. She could increase their speed slightly, but they were already close to their maximum. And she wasn’t sure if that ship was anything she truly wanted to get close to.

  “I understand why you didn’t want to let her go again,” Leonidas said quietly.

  “Jelena?”

  “Yes. You’re right. There was no way this wasn’t going to be dangerous, but she wouldn’t have necessarily been safe going away with Westfall either.”

  Alisa wasn’t sure about that, but she didn’t argue against him. She didn’t want to argue in favor of her being a selfish fool who was risking her daughter’s life because she hadn’t been willing to lose her again.

  Leonidas lowered his hand. “It’s the chasadski ship.”

  Alisa swiveled in her chair. “What?”

  “The same ship Tymoteusz was flying in on Arkadius and that we encountered on Caravan Station and again in the asteroid belt.”

  Alisa stared at the representation of the ship on the sensor display. “It’s alone there? Not moving?”

  “It’s not moving. Its aloneness will be determined as we get closer.”

  She bit her lip. Right. There could be more ships out there, just outside of range. This could be the big meeting spot. “No, it can’t be,” she muttered with realization.

  “Hm?”

  Alisa pointed at the tracking display. “Henneberry’s yacht is well past that ship, farther into the quarantine zone. If they were meeting there, she would have stopped.”

  “True.”

  “So, what’s going on?”

  A few long minutes passed before Leonidas answered.

  “I’m not reading any engine power. No power at all, in fact,” he said.

  “Were they damaged? Fired upon?” Alisa doubted there was any point in hoping the Alliance had already been there and blasted Tymoteusz to bits. She shouldn’t hope that anyway, because if they had, Thorian could have been blasted to bits too.

  “We’re still too far out to get a precise reading, but it’s possible.”

  More long minutes passed, and eventually, Alisa could catch the ship on one of the cameras with maximum zoom.

  “I don’t see any damage,” Leonidas said, sounding puzzled. He was still frowning at the sensor display.

  Alisa put the ship on the view screen. “I don’t either.”

  “Do you need any help, Captain?” Yumi asked, peering into NavCom. Her eyes widened when she spotted the chasadski ship on the screen.

  “Leonidas is handling the sensors, but if you want to take a look, you can arm wrestle him for the chair.”

  Yumi looked at one of Leonidas’s brawny arms. “Can I drug him first?”

  “I would.”

  “In certain circumstances, he’s willing to drug himself,” Leonidas murmured, sliding Alisa a sidelong look.

  “We liked the relaxation one, Yumi,” Alisa said, feeling she should acknowledge that they finally took her up on one of her copious offers. She doubted Yumi would ask for details—or mock them for leaving cyborg sweat in engineering. Alisa was still suspicious about the source of Mica’s knowledge of their night together. If she had walked down and peeked inside, Leonidas would have heard it. Probably. He had been distracted. She bit back a smirk and told herself to focus on the current problem. So what if Mica had secret cameras in engineering or something of that ilk?

  “That’s wonderful,” Yumi said. “Both of you?” She wriggled her eyebrows at Alisa.

  “One was enough.”

  “You’ll have to try it yourself next time.”

  “I don’t want to risk getting addicted to some powder, no matter how tantalizing it might be.” Alisa tapped the edge of the control panel with a fingernail, tempted to veer toward the chasadski ship for a closer look. But Henneberry’s yacht was still heading off to wherever it was going, and she did not want to lose it.

  “Current studies show that addiction has more to do with the mental health and feeling of social belonging of the individual, rather than an inherent irresistibleness of a substance. I believe that with your daughter here and the camaraderie from your crew, you should feel that you have an important place in the lives of many and that what you do matters. If you have doubts, or are not experiencing contentment in your position as captain, perhaps we could do some meditation exercises together. I could guide you in—”

  “Let her win, please, Leonidas,” Alisa interrupted.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The arm wrestling contest. Let her win and take over the sensor station so she has something to do besides analyzing me.”

  Leonidas slid out of the fold-down seat without the contest, bowing Yumi into it. He touched the back of Alisa’s head as Yumi took the position.

  “What you do does matter,” he said quietly. “And you are important.”

  “I don’t remember asking, but thank you. I’m still not taking the drug.” She swatted him as he sat in the co-pilot’s seat.

  “You didn’t seem to need it.” His eyes crinkled. He seemed far more relaxed today than usual, almost like the night before, and she thought about asking him if he’d taken another dose, but he didn’t have that overly mellow tone to his voice that he’d had the night before. Maybe he simply felt better because they’d had sex, he’d let himself go, and no overly eager pelvic thrusts had sent her sailing across the engineering room in a disastrous crash.

  “There are no signs of life aboard,” Yumi said.

  Alisa broke the gaze she’d been sharing with Leonidas, wiped the goofy grin off her face, and returned her attention to the view screen. They were passing the other ship now, but the camera had shifted to track it, and she could see that the running lights were out. It seemed dead in space.

  “No power, no residual heat from the engine department,” Yumi said.

  “Any dead people hugging radioactive artifacts inside?” Alisa shuddered, remembering their run-in with that pilgrim ship. She hadn’t even boarded, only seeing the mad, nearly dead woman through Leonidas’s helmet camera, but the way she had raved and taken her own life still chilled her.

  “Impossible to tell, since they wouldn’t show up on the sensors,” Yumi said.

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “I’m not, however, reading abnormally high radiation.”

  Alisa snorted. “We didn’t last time either. Because the Nomad’s sensors are about as precise as a wrecking ball. Or one of Mica’s explosives.”

  “I haven’t noticed you objecting to using her homemade explosives,” Leonidas said.

  “No, be
cause I don’t require precision. Knocking down an entire wall to kill a scorpion works, after all.”

  “Sometimes.”

  Leonidas waved at the ship as it receded from their camera. “We’re not stopping to explore?”

  “I don’t want to risk losing Henneberry. Besides, I highly doubt Tymoteusz did something as stupid as getting himself and his crew irradiated.” Her gut clenched at the idea of Thorian dead on that ship, either from some mishap with the radiation from the station or just by Tymoteusz’s hand.

  He’s not dead, Jelena spoke into Alisa’s mind, startling her.

  She was used to Abelardus butting in, but Jelena had only spoken to her telepathically a few times. She didn’t seem to pry into Alisa’s mind constantly the way Abelardus did. Only when they were close together and talking did some of her comments prove that she knew what Alisa was thinking.

  Leonidas turned to look through the hatchway, and Alisa did the same, suspecting Jelena was close. She stood in the corridor, only one eye visible as she peered inside.

  How do you know? Alisa asked silently, glad Jelena hadn’t come up earlier when she had been staring dreamily at Leonidas.

  He’s my friend. I’d know if he died.

  Even from a great distance? If he’s not on that ship, he can’t be anywhere close. There aren’t any other ships on our sensors.

  “I’d know,” Jelena said firmly.

  Yumi glanced back at her. Leonidas did not seem surprised by what was, to him, a random statement. He must have gotten used to silent Starseer conversations going on around him.

  “They could have had engine problems and called on Henneberry to pick them up when she came through,” Leonidas said.

  “If they’re all together now,” Alisa said, “presumably with all of their mafia buddies, then why are they still flying deeper into the quarantine zone? Isn’t the middle of nowhere as good a place as any for a meeting?”

  “I don’t know. If Henneberry continues on her present course—” Leonidas waved at the tracking display, “—then where will she end up?”

  Alisa started to answer that their route would eventually take them out of the system and into the empty blackness beyond, but she first checked to see if Henneberry’s course had changed at all since the last time she had checked it and programmed the autopilot. It had. Only slightly, but slightly turned into a great deal when compounded over millions of miles.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, slumping back in her chair.

  Leonidas glanced at Jelena, then looked at Alisa.

  “I’ve heard Mom swear before,” she informed him, or perhaps she was speaking to the room in general.

  Alisa barely registered the comment. She was too busy feeling numb from what her new calculations told her.

  “Their current course will take them to Alcyone Station,” she said.

  Chapter 20

  “Nothing yet?” Alisa asked.

  “No, Captain,” Yumi said from the seat behind her.

  Hours had gone by since they passed the dead chasadski ship, and they had not come across any other vessels yet, but the blip on the tracking display had slowed to a stop. Alisa believed that stop had been made near Alcyone Station. It and the rift were too far away for the Nomad’s sensors to pick up yet, but the location was in the ship’s navigational maps from last time.

  “I was hoping to see sign of the Alliance fleet before ambling up on Henneberry’s ship,” Alisa said. “Especially since she’s likely out there with all of her closest mafia friends. I wonder if Solstice went with her.” She would have looked at Leonidas, but he had wandered out of NavCom to hit his hover pads and get some lunch. Maybe she should call him back to see if he would try comming her. Did he know how to contact her ship specifically?

  “It does seem like it would be unwise of us to fly into the spider web without the spider being suitably distracted,” Yumi said.

  Are we there yet? Abelardus asked into her mind.

  Alisa had wondered where he was. She hadn’t seen him, and he hadn’t made any snide comments into her mind all day about her night with Leonidas.

  That’s because I was having wonderful and glorious sex of my own, he informed her.

  By yourself?

  Of course not. Not this time, anyway.

  She snorted, drawing a glance from Yumi.

  “Starseers,” Alisa said.

  “Ah.” Yumi’s face grew wistful for a moment, that I-wish-I-could-do-Starseer-things look crossing her face, but she turned back to the sensors.

  Young-hee? Alisa guessed, though it wasn’t any of her business. Still, captains should know what was going on aboard their own ships, right?

  She finally saw into my heart and realized how magnificent it is, Abelardus said.

  I bet you apologized to her for being an ass, finally noticed that she’s a quiet beauty, and told her that you’d been a fool not to appreciate her before.

  Abelardus hesitated. It wasn’t in that order.

  Congratulations. Alisa didn’t know if he deserved Young-hee, but if he was in a relationship with her, he ought to spend less time butting into her thoughts.

  You’re as magnanimous as you are selfless, Captain. Don’t worry—I’ll always have time for you. Now, are we there yet? Young-hee and I have been discussing strategies for sneaking the staff away from Tymoteusz.

  You can come up to NavCom and see what we’re dealing with yourself.

  That’s not necessary.

  Leonidas isn’t here.

  I’ll be right up.

  Less than a minute later, Abelardus ambled into NavCom and flopped down, flinging an arm over the backrest and one of his sandaled feet onto the control panel. Maybe Alisa shouldn’t have mentioned Leonidas’s absence.

  “We’re on the way to Alcyone Station?” he asked.

  “Or a position not far from it.” Alisa pointed to the blip of the now-stationary Henneberry ship.

  “Are you sure that’s her ship and that she didn’t find your tracking device and throw it out a porthole?”

  Alisa blinked. “No, but I imagine she would have destroyed it instead of throwing it into a garbage chute. Probably with much stomping of her boots.”

  Abelardus scratched his jaw. “What could they want with Alcyone Station?”

  “Maybe Terrible Tym has realized that he’ll be hunted to the ends of the system as long as he has the staff, so he’s decided to return it to Alcyone’s tomb to get rid of it.”

  “That’s wishful thinking. He probably just thought this would be a snazzy meeting place. He could be setting up a podium right now, where he can have the appearing and disappearing station as his backdrop. Its perky radioactive glow will make him look special.”

  “Hm.” Alisa supposed there could be something to that. Maybe Tymoteusz planned to do something mad like walking the halls of the station without radiation protection, just to prove that he was blessed by the suns and the obvious choice to rule the system. If that was his plan, Alisa hoped the radiation aged him a hundred years and wilted his balls into raisins.

  Thinking of your uncle’s balls may be the sign of a sick mind, Abelardus told her.

  Before Alisa could reply, Yumi said, “We’re going to soon reach a point where an important decision must be made.”

  “Whether or not we should get any closer?” Alisa asked.

  “The Alliance ships, Henneberry’s yacht, and some of the mafia ships are all likely to have superior sensor range to this freighter.”

  “Meaning they’ll see us long before we see them.” Alisa sighed. “I know. I’ve considered that. I was hoping that before we reached that point, we would find sign that the Alliance was in the vicinity, perhaps challenging Henneberry and her cohorts right now.”

  Her plan had always been to slip in while the Alliance was keeping Tymoteusz and the others busy.

  Maybe the Alliance found out where the meeting was being held, Abelardus said silently, and they didn’t want their balls wilted.

&
nbsp; They’ve been here before. In radiation suits.

  The ideal attire for fighting battles.

  The comm beeped. Alisa half-expected some hail from Henneberry’s ship, but it was the internal system.

  “Marchenko,” she answered.

  “Why is that android comming me and sharing his plans for radiation treatment?” Alejandro asked.

  “I asked him to.”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because we’re heading back to Alcyone Station again. Or close to it.”

  Alejandro paused before answering. “You’ve confirmed on the sensors that the ships are there? Or that’s where the tracking device is leading us?”

  “We’re not within sensor range yet, but the tracking device stopped moving. We’re debating on how close we should get.”

  “Not close at all—we’ve all had enough extra radiation from our previous visit to last a lifetime.”

  “I thought you wanted the staff and Thorian,” Alisa said.

  “What makes you think they’re there?” Alejandro snorted derisively. “That woman may have found your tracking device, put it on a shuttle or unmanned robot ship, and sent us all on a fool’s errand. She could be meeting Tymoteusz on the far side of the system right now.”

  Alisa wanted to snap at how ridiculous that was, but she ended up frozen with her mouth half open. Technically, that could have happened. She had assumed Henneberry’s people would destroy the tracker if they discovered it, but Henneberry had money to waste. She could have sacrificed a shuttle to get rid of her pursuers, to make sure they were far, far away when she met Tymoteusz. If she’d found the device, she might have even believed that some Alliance spy had planted it and that they were the ones following her. If she had, that would be even more of a reason to waste a shuttle for such a mission. She might believe she was diverting an entire fleet.

  “There’s no way you can tell from this far away, is there?” she asked Abelardus.

  “Not me, no.”

  Alisa wiped her hand slowly down her face, suddenly finding Alejandro’s scenario disturbingly possible. “We’ll get close enough to check. Prepare your radiation drug, and listen to Bravo Six if he has any good advice.”