Generation

by E M Garcia

  "Any number of hotels on this level?" She stepped to the side, motioning for me to leave my shoes in the receptical by the front door as if I hadn't done exactly that for the last five years. "Or with one of your friends."

  "Not all of us are elite scientits with expense accounts, Jay," I said. "They don't pay us grunts enough to rent the room with the good water pressure."

  My first year in the Diplomatic Corps, the pay cut was so intense I found myself unable to afford a decent apartment on any good planet in TA space. If I ever went on an intervention that didn't come with a place to sleep, I stayed on the Cal or wherever else a flat surface and a little quite could be found. Now I could afford a room, though it would hurt, but I liked staying with J'Selle. It was the only way I got to spend any time with her.

  I kicked off my shoes and blinked as my implants adjusted to the dim light in the apartment. J'Selle didn't even look amused by my little shower joke. Humor wasn't her strong suit, but she usually at least faked a smile. She must have turned her emotional inhibitors on. I didn't blame her. If a little chip to dull the brain was standard issue for humans, I knew more than one person who would fight for a place in line.

  "Be that as it may," J'Selle said in her sing-song voice. . "Now we'll hardly have enough time to get you ready for the gala. You know I hate to rush."

  I blinked. "I'm not going to the gala, Jay. Haven't you checked the news?"

  J'Selle shook her head, making her long braids sway around her shoulders. "I stayed at the lab until you were scheduled to arrive. Why?"

  Before I could respond, my eyes fell on a small black travel bag tucked beside the couch. It couldn't have been hers. As a rule, J'selle didn't travel. She never wanted to leave her work for longer than it took to cross the station.

  "Do you have company?" I asked.

  J'Selle cleared her throat and if I didn't know better, I would say her cheeks turned a deeper shade of blue. "Not exactly company. Why did you ask about the news?"

  Something about her shy whisper set off alarm bells in my head. Warning do not broach subject. Potentially brain melting details about your sister-in-law behind this door.

  "An RL protest at the dock got violent today," I said "We happened to be on our way in."

  "Were you hurt?" The right words left J'Selle's lips, but there was no emotion behind them.

  "I'll live," I said, heading for the kitchen. J'Selle liked to experiment with her meal generators, imputting unusual ingredients and combining them in odd preperations. Her creations were surprisingly delicious or horrific failures. There was no middle ground. Pasta tossed with Qu'ren squash and citrus had been a mushy high point. Friend Theimel lizard heart had been an especially low point my stomach had taken nearly a month to recover from.

  "Do you need me to go to a hotel to make room for your friend?" I asked. That was the closest I could get to admitting she might have a booty call arranged for the weekend, rather than her usual awkward quality time with me.

  "Why would you do that? You have your room. He can take the couch. Anyway if you leave, how will I help you dress?"

  "I'm not going, Jay," I said. A wave of heat from the generator blasted me in the face, matched by a flush of warmth behind my cheeks. I popped the door open and pulled the steaming bowl from inside, my stomach growling. Between last-minute paperwork and the explosion the dock, breakfast had been a few stale nutrient crackers and tepid black tea.

  "You always say that."

  "Even if I were going, I can dress myself," I said, tapping the cabinet beside the generator. It slid open revealing an array of hermetically sealed herbs, spices, and condiments from all over the galaxy. I shoved my hand into stack and pushed some to the side. "Where did you hide the cheese?"

  She reached over my head with her long arm and plucked a jar from the upper shelf, passing it to me. "You would slap on your uniform, pull your hair back, and waltz into the hall with a bare face."

  "What's wrong with that? It's a crappy excuse for the upper crust of the galaxy to trap us in a room for a night."

  "This year is important. Special." J'Selle padded up behind me so quietly, I didn't notice her presence until she reached over me again and grabbed the utensils. "What has you so upset, Tameron? Was it the incident at the dock?"

  The words hit my ears a second before the cheesy mush, spoiling the whole experience. I let out a small sigh and shove the forkful into my mouth anyway.

  "Do you mean the concussion grenade or Gale?" I asked between bites. "You could have warned me he was coming."

  "If I had warned you, would you still have come?"

  I grumbled into my bowl, reluctant to give her the truth. I had a few years worth of vacation time saved up. If I played on Uncle Archer's sympathies, he would run interference with the Galactic Alliance higher ups. He couldn't do it forever or often, but a lifetime of friendship with my parents had earned me a one time get out of jail free card. Damn right I would have used it to avoid Galeon Howard.

  "You still could have warned me. About that and whoever your guest is."

  "Tameron, you seem tense." J'Selle tilted her head to the side, an expression of pure innocence coming to her face. You never learn how much your ability to read people is tied to your emotions until you see someone who doesn't have any.

  I set my fork down and leaned against the counter, rubbing my forehead with my fingers. "I'm not tense. I have a concussion and I'm exhausted and I don't want to make small talk with the Prince of Saloo or Councilor Kroi tonight."

  J'Selle swallowed. "Let's not fight, Tammy. It's been so long."

  "I like it when we fight," I said. "Sometimes pissed off is the only emotion you let get through."

  She tilted her chin up. "Jack said the same thing to me once. I never quite understood what he meant."

  I glanced toward the door. Every instinct I had screamed that this was a fight I didn't want to have. This was a weekend I didn't want to have. If I had any sense I would pick up my bag, get on my knees and beg Izzy to let me bunk with her. Gale being on Aurora and J'Selle moving on was too much change for one day.

  "If you aren't going then I should," J'Selle said. Her voice was still the same soft sing-song it had always been. "And about my guest--"

  "I don't want to know," I blurted.

  "I...can respect your wishes, but I have to point out that you'll find out whether I tell you right now or not."

  I shrugged. "Avoidance is a human thing."

  "I don't think it's a good idea this time, Tammy."

  "You're gonna have to roll with it anyway." I slid off the stool and resisted the urge to stomp out of the kitchen. The only thing worse than having a one-sided argument with an ethereal ice queen was being undignified while doing it.

  I stopped in the living room, glancing down at the black bag. I memorized every inch of the thing, the cut, the sizing, the stitching. Everything but the fabric, which I could only have known by touching it. None of it gave me any clue as to the owner's identity. It didn't matter who it was. It wasn't Jack.

  Whoever you are. If you break her heart, I'll break your neck.

  It took four tries at J'Selle's food processor that didn't taste funky after a few bites. I grabbed a bowl full of the nondescript, vaguely squash flavored mush stretched out on J'Selle's couch. After three runs through her basic cable package, I ended up stuck on the station coverage of the gala. While stuffing my face, I happened glance up at the cabinet of Jack’s medals on the wall. At least, the cabinet that used to hold Jack’s medals. Sometime over the last year, J’Selle had emptied it without telling me. Normal people had sisters who kept them in the loop. They didn’t come back from a year in space to find things so drastically changed. But then, normal people probably didn’t stay away from home a year at a time.

  Home sick from work and you're working remotely? Sighed impatiently at the voice in my head, shoving another mouth full of squash in my mouth to drown it out. I watched with little interest and the various celebrities and di
gnitaries arrives, stopping to give interviews and take pictures.

  The Prince of Saloo preened for the camera, turning so the orange scales that light his muscles could catch the light. Behind him, a human man hunched in a corner, looking around. When he turned his head away from the camera, I saw the black swirl tattoo on his neck. J'Selle!

  4

  I ran past a lingering line or reporters, nearly knocking one over in my rush to get into the casino. Continuing my mad dash, to the security kiosk at the front next to the reserve bar. He looked at me with a furrowed brow as I struggled to catch my breath. Life aboard a diplomatic vessel didn't make it easy to stay in shape.

  "Are you alright, miss?" he asked.

  Bracing my hands against the kiosk, I took one last deep breath. "I'm Ambassador Tameron Cage. I have reason to believe a Radiance Lives attack is about to take place here."

  "You what?" The guard slid off his chair and leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at me. "Are you drunk?"

  I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm not drunk I--"

  Gunfire erupted behind us.

  I grabbed the guard and threw him behind the empty reserve bar, sliding in after him. As I pressed my back against the smooth surface, I saw a panel in the wall sliding closed. The air shafts! The Alliance put them in during the reconstruction to facilitate a station-wide evacuation. To protect them from criminals, only people with clearance codes could open them. I crawled to it on my hands and knees, making as little noise as possible, and felt along it until my fingers struck a hidden panel. I pressed my thumb against the plate and whispered my clearance code.

  As the panel slid open, I jerked my head for the guard to go in first. I turned and watched it slide closed again then waited. If anybody saw us come in, they shouldn’t have a code to open the panel. If the did, well, this situation was more fucked than I thought.

  “Y-you!” The guard whispered frantically. Shit.

  I turned. My heart stopped. A bald Knaewa in a party outfit, complete with gloves, crouched at the end of the tunnels. The seams of his formal black tunic strained around the thick curve of his thigh. Jet black goggles covered his eyes, protecting the sensitive organs from the glow of the panels. In any other circumstance, I would have taken a moment to admire the view.

  There was a weakness to the clearance system, any code from any government would do. But the Knaewa didn’t have a government of their own. Slavers had overrun their home planet generations ago. The Strekhan Protectorate liberated them for the price of their undying political submission.

  Rumor had it, the Alliance powers that be knew clearance system was a bad idea, but there couldn’t find a way to fix it without dangerously slowing an evacuation. Now it had come back to bite me in the ass. Maybe the strike team downstairs knew about the panels. Maybe they had someone passing them intel from the inside. Either way, the green skinned hot guy at the end of the tunnel was bad news.

  “I said what you doing here?” He turned hIzzyad from side to side as if trying to get a better view of us through his the thick [technoglass]. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I sensed they looked past the guard and settled on me. No, raked over every inch of my body. Suddenly, I was glad I had opted to ditch the formalwear before I’d decided to play hero. The man was familiar, but I couldn’t place him among few hundred dignitaries I had met that year.

  “I’m Ambassador Tameron Cage with the Galactic Alliance,” I whispered, all too aware of what would happen to us if anyone on the other side of the bulkhead heard us. “There’s a hostage situation going on outside. For your safety, I need you to stay here and be quiet.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of his full green lips. I’d seen that smirk a dozen faces across the galaxy, though never with as much arrogance. It always spelled trouble.

  “I’m well aware of the hostage situation, Tammy,” he said. The Knew turned and disappeared further around the corner, deeper into the network of tunnels.

  The security guard heaved a sigh of relief. He didn’t understand how bad things could get if our sexy green friend tripped the strike team to our presence. “We should follow him, Ma’am. He must know the way out.”

  There was one way to know for sure, and I didn’t bother pointing out that the guard should have thought of it. Instead, I motioned for him to stay back and checked the tunnel schematics on my com. One turn led to the lift shaft, the other lead deeper into the casino. Our Knaewa friend had taken the wrong one.

  “We’re not that lucky. Go as far as you can that way and wait,” I said, pointing the guard in the right direction. “I’ll send someone for you as soon as it’s safe.”

  As I crawled past him, the guard caught me by the sleeve. “Wait! You don’t know what he’s doing.”

  I shrugged and tried to sound and look more nonchalant than I felt. “All the more reason for you to go that way.”

  Before he could get louder and draw more attention to our hiding place, I took off around the corner, crawling on my hands and knees. I caught up with the bald stranger crouched beside another panel like the one behind the bar. As I watched, he brushed the fingertips of his ungloved hand over the surface with the reverence a painter might use for his brushes. His body stiffened. He entered a code and a segment of the tunnel ceiling slid open, revealing a ladder.

  “Are you coming, Tammy?” he asked without turning to look at me. “Or did you plan to keep your uniformed friend company?”

  My mind moved so fast, my mouth couldn’t keep up. When I finally could speak, I didn’t pick the most relevant subject to broach.

  “Nobody calls me Tammy anymore,” I said. It wasn’t exactly true. Only a handful of people had ever called me that at all. Two, Jack and my father, had died. Jack used Angel far more, in part because he knew how much I hated Tammy. My father had likewise given the Admiral the right to address me as Tammy, and I'd never had the heart to take it away.

  The Knaewa glanced at me over his shoulder, his quirked eyebrow just visible above the band of his goggles. “As you wish.”

  He turned to go. This time my body acted far faster than my mind. I lunged forward, snagging the man’s shoulder between my fingers. I opened my mouth to say “stop,” Before the words could leave my mouth, the Knaewa grabbed me by the wrist with his gloved hand and turned. Before I realized what was happening, he spun me around. He pulled me toward him, pressing my back against his chest. Way too close.

  I bucked against him, fighting like hell to get free of him. His grip eased and tightened to accommodate my movements, but it never let up.

  “We don’t have time to slow one another down, Ambassador Cage.” He whispered when I went still for a moment. His breath grazed over my ear as he spoke. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to shiver.

  I swallowed hard. “We both know you should be here. There’s a full team outside armed with assault rifles, and for all I know you’re with them. So, until you give me a good explanation, slowing you down is exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “I knew your brother,” he said.

  “So did half the galaxy.” I started to struggle again.

  “I worked with him,” he said.

  I paused. That list was shorter and there was only one man with green skin who moved light lightning on it. He was the only Wrecker of his species.

  “Shadow?”

  He let me go. I scooted away. He gave me a little salute and leaned back against the bulkhead. “I haven’t been him in many years. Now, it’s Daq’usk or Daq if you prefer. Nice to meet you, though I can’t say I’m enjoying the circumstances.”

  I winced and straightened my jacket. “You know, you could have lead with that.”

  Daq’usk shrugged and raised on his knees to reach for the ladder. “Until you said different, I thought you recognized me. Your uniformed friend did. If you aren’t coming with me, you really should join him. These tunnels aren’t half as secure as they should be and you’re unarmed.”

  “So are you and you being Shadow still doesn�
��t explain why you’re here.”

  He paused and smiled again, revealing his pointed white teeth. This time it wasn’t arrogance but pure delight. I was beginning to hate that smile. “Some habits die hard, I guess.” Daq’usk disappeared into the ladder shaft. Before I could think better about it, I climbed up after.

  Daq paused at another panel, opening it the same way he had the last. The tunnel at the top was wider, but had a rougher finish than the ones below. They hadn’t bothered to cover the bulkheads, leaving the riveted durasteel exposed. Daq motioned for quiet as he led me in a new direction. Finally, he stopped and leaned back on his heels He pulled small thermal cutter from his tunic, passing it to me. I cut a square in the size and place he indicated while he braced his hands near it. Just before I cut finish, Daq motioned for me to stop. Beneath us, screams from the casino trickled up to us.

  My stomach lurched. Those people needed help, and I was crawling around in the maintenance shaft. But Daq’usk didn’t look phased by the shouting.

  “What exactly is the plan here?” I whispered.

  “We were waiting on the signal. That was it.” He paused, tilting his chin upward. “Jackson and the others have reinforced skeletons. Do you?”

  I nodded. “TF standard issue. Why?”

  “I’m making an opening,” he gestured to still molten-edged square. “And it’ll be a hell of a lot more effective if there’s someone there to capitalize.”

  As much as I hate to admit it, it took me a few seconds to think my way through his plan. I stared at him when I did, mouth agape in plain shock. He couldn’t be serious.

  “Why don’t you do it?” I asked, struggling to keep all trace of panic out of my voice. Below there was a single gunshot followed by more screams.

  “Because I don’t have a reinforced skeleton," he said through gritted teeth.

  This was crazy, certifiable nonsense. Those people down there needed help, but I couldn’t make myself do something so crazy. What kind of person jumped out of the ceiling and just hoped to magically land on the leader of an armed strike team? The Wreckers, it was wall within their wheelhouse.