by Rachel Ford
“You should know by now, Ari: I can be every bit as stubborn as you.”
“I don’t know,” Nik sighed. “I mean, I know it makes sense. I know we can’t transition power in the middle of a war, much less draft a new constitution. But the idea of postponing the elections?” She shook her head. “It feels like, everything we said? It was all a lie.”
“It’s only a lie if we didn’t mean it, Nik. And we did. I mean, no one planned on a war.”
“I know. Rationally, I understand.”
Brek nodded. “I know…I get it: it feels wrong.”
“Exactly. It’s exactly the sort of thing we’d do if we didn’t mean it. And I don’t like that. I don’t like the fact that people can wonder – legitimately wonder – if we ever meant to have those open elections we promised.”
“You’re just letting Lenksha’s propaganda get to you. No one believes that. As soon as we win this thing, we will set the next date.”
“I know. I just…I hope the people know too.”
He smiled at her. “The people love you, Nik. They trust you. They’ll believe anything you say.”
She rolled her eyes. “Good gods. You sound like Giya now. He’s been on me about standing for Supreme Leader again.” She frowned suspiciously at him. “He didn’t draft you into helping him persuade me, did he?”
Brek laughed. “No. He’s mentioned it a few times-”
“Brek!” She stared at him with wide eyes. “You’re not going to start now too?”
“No,” he protested. “Of course not. You’d be incredible, Nik. The best thing that could happen to this empire. You know I think that. But you made it clear you weren’t interested.” He spread his hands. “So that’s that.”
She snorted. “If that’s your not-trying-to-persuade me, I’d hate to see the hard sell.”
He grinned, reminding her, “You did ask, remember?”
She smiled too. “I guess I did.”
“I just meant, you don’t have to worry about the people doubting your motives. They trust you.”
She considered for a moment, then nodded. “Thanks, Brek. I appreciate you saying that. I really do.”
He smiled at her words, and the earnest way she’d spoken them. “Of course.” Then, in a minute, he added, “Well, I guess we should get back. Unless you’re planning to call it a day?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve got too much to read before tomorrow’s session.”
“Me too,” he sighed. “Never thought I’d miss the mines. But, some days…”
He was rewarded for the comment with a smile, and he offered his arm as they vacated the premises. “You really do look awfully tired, Nik. Maybe you should call it a day regardless. I could always catch you up tomorrow.”
She seemed to consider this for a moment, then shook her head. “No. Thank you for offering, Brek. But I can’t do that. It’s my job to represent. Not just on the floor, but the boring stuff too.”
He shook his head at her grin. She was unyielding, but not indefatigable. And it pained him to see her looking as overwrought as she did these last days. But he knew better than to argue with her. She was one of the most determined people he knew. It was an endearing quality most of the time. Sometimes, like now, it left him worrying about her. “Well,” he said, “you mind if I bring my reading to your office?”
She laughed. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”
“Who said babysitting? I’m just thinking, if I fall asleep on my papers, you wake me up. If you fall asleep, I’ll wake you up.”
She seemed unconvinced, but nodded all the same. “I wouldn’t mind the company, for sure. And I can get you some coffee brewing. I’ll put some decaf on for me, and hope the placebo effect does something. But…you really don’t have to. If you don’t want to, I mean.”
He was midway through telling her that he’d rather hop the nearest shuttle bound for Theta’s mines than spend more time alone in his office staring at papers, when she stopped mid-step. “Nik?” he asked, glancing back at her.
Her face had gone suddenly very gray, and very grim, and she blinked almost as if she didn’t see him.
He felt alarm rising in his chest. “Nik? What’s wrong?”
“Brek, I…” She swayed on her feet, clutching at his arm. “I…” And then, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed.
He caught her before she dropped. “Nik? Oh my gods. Nik?” She didn’t respond though. She was breathing, he saw: slow, shallow breaths. But she’d lost consciousness. “Quick, someone: call an ambulance.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Sir, we’re approaching Echo Nine.”
“Any sign of Lenksha’s ships?”
“I’m not getting any readings.”
Elgin gritted his teeth. Dammit. Aloud, he said, “Well, take us in. We’re getting the full tour, I guess.” They’d already visited the first eight planets in this particular star system. And not a single one had turned up anything.
“Roger that.” The Supernova changed course so that it was in line with Echo Nine, and the planet filled the bridge’s view. What sort of world lay beyond the atmosphere, he couldn’t have ascertained at a glance. The atmosphere was thick, with heavy cloud cover obscuring most of the planet. But he’d read that Nine was in the habitable zone of its star, that it had large bodies of water on the surface and moderate temperatures. If not for the deadly levels of radiation, it might have been a nice world. It probably would have been colonized by now.
But lethal radiation was a pretty good deterrent against permanent settlement. It was one thing to set up a base here, or on one of the planets in the sector, as he suspected Lenksha had. But it was another to live here. The only Tribari who did that were outlaws, who had no better options than hiding out in grim, shielded deep space settlement capsules that could protect them from the radiation. The technology had originally been designed for temporary drilling and mining crews sent to inhospitable worlds, but pirates and others who lived on the outskirts of civilization picked it up readily enough. It wasn’t much of a life, but it was better than a penal colony.
The loyalists would be based on their ships, if they were here. Tribari starships were more hospitable than settlement capsules, and Lenksha wouldn’t want his crews spread out. He’d need them clustered together, ready to depart on a moment’s notice.
“Entering the atmosphere now, sir.”
Elgin nodded, watching the world below him come into view through a rush of fire and clouds.
Nine was an odd planet, covered in ruddy vegetation that lent it a decidedly grim aspect. There weren’t many worlds in the Wastes that had evolved life. There weren’t many worlds that had developed the rust-hues he saw here. It reminded him of a slaughterhouse, and the awful red blood of the bovid creatures that met their ends there.
“Any signs of the fleet, ensign?”
“No sir. My sensor readings are still all over the place.”
“Alright. Let’s keep looking.”
“Aye-aye.”
“Kerel, let’s do a fly over. See if we can find a better spot.”
“Yessir.”
The continents grew larger as they descended, the reds of the trees and grasses that covered them filling Elgin’s mind like some kind of hideous portent. These were a far cry from the lush green continents of Central, or even the barren brown land masses of worlds like Trapper’s Colony.
He was not a man given to superstition. But there was something about those hues that made his skin crawl, that seemed, almost, to warn him. “Tactical, any sign of anything on your end?”
“No sir,” Lieutenant Vaki said. “Not a thing.”
He nodded slowly. “Good. But, I want weapons ready anyway.”
“Yessir.”
“And bring our shields online.”
“In atmosphere, sir?”
“As I said.” Running shields in atmosphere would burn a lot more fuel than in space. But Elgin trusted his instincts. And his
instincts told him they were entering the slaughterhouse.
Doctor Kereni cleared his throat. “Well, Governor, the good news is, you’re definitely not sick.”
She frowned, as much at his word choice as his nervous manner. “Well what’s the bad news then?”
“I’m not sure it is bad news. That is, it’s going to depend on your perspective.” Her frown deepened, and the medical man spread his hands. “You’re pregnant.”
Nees blinked. “I’m what?”
“Pregnant. The nausea: it’s morning sickness. Nothing too extreme. If the symptoms worsen, we can prescribe-”
“Wait,” she said, “hold on. Pregnant? As in, going to have a kid?”
Kereni stared at her. “Precisely.”
“Oh shit.”
“Ah. Then…it’s bad news?”
“Of course it is. At least…maybe it is. I don’t know.” She shook her head in confusion. She’d never planned to have children. Once she’d hit a certain age, she’d ruled it out as a possibility. And now?
He cleared his throat, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I gather it was not expected, then?”
“Expected? Shit. That’s the understatement of the year, Doctor.”
“Well, motherhood is a big step. I understand this must be overwhelming.”
“Motherhood?” She shook her head, reeling at the word used in reference to herself, and saying again, “Oh shit. I’m not cut out to be a mother, Kereni. We’re at war. How can I manage Trapper’s, and have a baby?”
“Is your – forgive me, I’m not trying to be impertinent here, Governor. But where the, uh, contributing male is concerned…do you think you could identify him?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you asking if I know who the father is, Doctor?” He nodded, and she scoffed. “Hell’s bells. My life is a lot more exciting in your telling than reality. Yes, I know who the father is. Of course.”
“Ah.” He nodded again, this time with palpable relief. “Is he…forgive me. I know this is indecorous. But is he likely to be a part of your life? And the child’s, if you keep it?”
She snorted. “Yes, he’s a part of my life. And you’re damned right he’s going to be a part of his kid’s life.” She added, “If we keep it, I mean.” She was still reeling from the idea of motherhood, at her age, with all she had going on. Now she was supposed to tell Tig…what? Surprise: you’re going to be a dad?
The doctor nodded understandingly. “Forgive me for asking, Governor. But you are a single woman.”
She scowled at him, and the assumptions he tied to her unmarried state. But she asked only, “How far am I?”
“What?”
“How many weeks pregnant?”
“Oh. Well, you said your last cycle was two months ago.”
“Yes, but they’re irregular now.”
“Which is not uncommon, given your age.” He shrugged. “It’s hard to say, without an ultrasound. Obviously, not more than two months. But I’d guess less. You say the nausea only began this week. In most women, it starts around four weeks.”
“So I’m probably a month along.”
He nodded. “Yes. But, again, everyone is different. It’s possible that your symptoms took longer to manifest.”
She nodded too, getting to her feet and stretching her hand to him. “Yes. Well, thank you Doctor.”
He frowned. “We should discuss an ultrasound, and prenatal exams. We have information for expectant mothers.”
She shook her head, though. “Send it to my office. I’ll look over it when I can. In the meantime…well, I’ve got some thinking to do.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brek paced up and down the length of the waiting room. He hardly noticed the curious glances of those around him. Nik was in there, with Doctor Kel. She had been there for over an hour now.
He’d ridden in the ambulance with her. He hadn’t asked if he could. He’d just jumped in, and the paramedics hadn’t questioned it. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe they’d taken him, in his distressed state, to be some relation.
He was only just less distressed now. Doctor Kel had ushered him into the waiting room, saying he’d hear from him as soon as possible. Since then, only a nurse had come out, not with news, but with tea. “Drink this, Minister Trigan. And can I get you anything else?”
His request for updates on Nikia were politely declined. “I’m sorry, but I can’t speak to that. I’m not on Minister Idan’s team. The doctor will let you know as soon as he can.”
Now, he walked, back and forth, covering the same few meters of space over and over. His foot was beginning to hurt. The fracture had healed, but it was still sensitive. He was supposed to stick with light exercise.
At the moment, the pain was the least of his concerns. Not since the collapse on Theta, when he’d been abandoned to death in the mining shafts under his camp, had he felt anxiety like this. The sheer intensity of it surprised him. Nik was his friend, his best friend. He knew that. He’d known that for months now.
What he hadn’t known was how deep his feelings for her went. He was too addled to analyze them, too fearful to consider the strength of his regard. All he knew was that the prospect of losing her filled him with an emptiness that terrified him. The idea of a world – his world – without Nik seemed unlivable.
It had been a long time since Brek prayed. But as he paced up and down that bland stretch, he prayed with all the fervor of a child for whom belief had never waned, and all the desperation of a man about to lose everything that matters.
The minutes ticked by slowly, and after a while, he lost track of time. Other patients emerged. The waiting room cleared, until he was alone in it. He could see the daystar had set beyond the window, and the reddish grays of dusk settled over the City.
And still Nik hadn’t come out. He checked in with the receptionist, and she gave him a sweet smile and a, “I’m not sure what’s going on with Minister Idan. Let me see if the doctor can talk to you.”
Then she disappeared too, and he was utterly alone – alone with his thoughts and his fears. He knew Nik’s pregnancy had been a rough one, especially in the beginning, with all the loss she’d suffered. Was she losing the baby? That would break her heart, and the thought of how much it would hurt her pierced him with an almost physical pain.
But worse thoughts crowded his mind. What if it was Nik’s life at risk? What if it was her, and not the baby, in danger right now?
He couldn’t forget how tired and weak she’d been these last days. The memory of her swaying and then falling in front of his eyes was indelibly seared into his consciousness. He could still feel the weight of her body, limp in his arms, and the terror it had brought him.
“Minister Trigan?”
Brek started at the sound of Doctor Kel’s voice, turning quickly to face the older man. “Doctor. Nik? How is she? Can I see her?”
Kel lifted a hand to slow his stream of questions. “She’s conscious. And she’s asking for you.”
He felt his heart soar at the words – all of them. “Thank the gods.”
He moved to head back, in the direction he’d seen them take Nik, but the doctor caught his arm. “Minister, you and Nik…?”
There seemed to be a question hanging on the words, but Brek wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Yes?”
“You’re close friends?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Kel nodded too, studying him all the while. “Then I need to tell you, and hope that she’ll listen to you. Because, by the gods, she doesn’t seem willing to listen to me.”
His tone and the worry in it caught Brek’s ears, setting off warning alarms in his brain. “What do you mean, Doctor?”
“Nik’s pregnancy, ever since the protectors came for Grel…it’s been a high-risk one. She’s got hypertension, and when she doesn’t eat right, or get enough sleep; when she worries too much, or keeps the ridiculous hours I know she keeps…” He shook his head. “It’s not just the pregnancy she could lo
se, Minister. She could die.”
Brek felt the words hit him with a physical force. “Nik…die?”
Kel nodded. “I know you care about her, Brek. A good deal, I should think, by the way you looked earlier today.” He blinked at the words, but the doctor didn’t belabor the point. “And as soon as she woke up, you were the one she asked for.”
“I was?” His voice sounded very small to his own ears, like a wondering child, struck with disbelief.
The older man nodded again, fixing him with a piercing stare. “She’s lost everyone in her life, Brek. Her mother, her father, her husband; even, for all intents and purposes, that damned brother of hers. She doesn’t listen to me. She doesn’t listen to Giya. But I’m hoping she’ll listen to you. Because, if you can’t convince her, I’m not sure Nikia Idan is going to survive this pregnancy.”
Brek swallowed the lump that formed in his throat at those words. “What do you want me to do?”
“Hey,” Tig said. “You’re doing it again.”
She glanced up at the faux scolding tones of his voice. “What?”
“Breaking the no-work-at-the-dinner-table rule.”
She smiled wanly. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“What’s wrong, darling?”
“Nothing.”
He rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t already know something was up, now I certainly would.” He took her hand across the table. “What is, Ari?”
She glanced up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were warm and green and full of love. She sucked in a breath, and said, “Babe, what would you say if…well, if I said…that is…”
He squeezed her hand. “Tell me, darling. What ever it is, just say it.”
“How would you feel about being a dad?”
He stared at her with unreserved surprise. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, he asked, “Just so we’re clear, Ari…is this a hypothetical question?”
“Not…as such, no. I’m-well, I’m pregnant, Tig.”
He leaned back in his chair, as stunned as she supposed she was earlier at the news. “Pregnant? Wow.”
