In the Void

by Sheryl Nantus

  It would make no difference even if she still hated them—she wouldn’t leave the crew of the Bonnie Belle to be massacred.

  Behind her she heard the other crew members shuffling around, Kendra’s light laughter washing over them like a rainbow and Harry’s answering chuckle, Bianca’s giggle.

  She had to give it to Kendra. The woman knew her job and wasn’t afraid to cast her spell over others for the good of the entire crew. The courtesan was a hell of a leader and an asset to the ship.

  Catherine wished she was half as confident. Despite her brave words to Sam and Daniel she knew the odds were against them no matter which road she had chosen. Daniel’s ship could be easily intercepted by a fast cruiser and the Belle was likely already on someone’s radar.

  The courtesans wandered around the galley, and Kendra offered to make something called landfall fruit salad for everyone.

  “Ms. Rogers?” The unfamiliar voice had her turning around, heated coffee in hand. She recognized him from the viewscreen in Sean’s cabin.

  The other male courtesan.

  “I’m Harry.” He didn’t offer his hand. “Harry James Lafayette. I know we haven’t been introduced properly but I’d like to talk to you privately, if you don’t mind.”

  He stood at about six feet, barely out of his youth and an excellent example of mansculpting. His snow white dress shirt was open halfway down his chest, showing ebony abs to die for. The black jeans were cut to accentuate all the right muscles and were doing so faithfully.

  “In regard to what?” she asked.

  “Of many things.” He spread his hands. “Cabbages and kings, perhaps?” His cologne washed over her like a warm beach wind. Spicy with a hint of musk.

  A man who quoted Lewis Carroll couldn’t be all bad.

  “Sure. Come to my cabin and we’ll chat.” The reply came automatically as if she were holding business meetings in one of the tall glass skyscrapers she’d recently frequented.

  “No. I’d much rather you come to my place.” He smiled, showing bright white teeth. “I’d be more comfortable in my own suite.” He tilted his head to one side with a sly smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

  Not unless I pay you to.

  “Sure.” She motioned him to lead. “Let’s go.”

  Kendra stood at one of the panels, tapping buttons. She frowned at Harry, who ignored her look. The others, save Sean, didn’t seem to notice the two of them leaving.

  The two of them made their way down the corridor. Harry stopped in front of his suite and opened the door. “Welcome.” He swept a hand in front of him and bowed slightly. “Please enter.”

  She strode in, feeling her pulse accelerate. This would be the third cabin on the Belle she’d been in.

  Probably beating Mike’s record.

  Harry stepped in behind her and moved around her to stand in the doorway to the personal bedroom. He motioned to the varnished dark wooden table in the arrival area, the two matching chairs beautifully sculpted. This wasn’t something you picked up from a catalogue. This was expensive work you paid a lot for.

  Catherine resisted the urge to gawk. The last time she’d seen such furniture had been in one of the upper executive boardrooms, far above her level and rarely used. She’d peeked in on her way to another meeting and wondered who’d dare sit in the high-priced leather seats and put their hands on the deep scarlet rosewood tabletop.

  Now she knew.

  The man knew how to make an impression. You couldn’t help but be awed by the show of wealth the second you stepped in.

  “Please have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He vanished into the personal area as she settled into the leather.

  The plush business chair curled around her like a familiar lover, holding her snug and comfortable. She looked around, trying to convince herself she was in a courtesan’s suite and not in a private boardroom at the top of an office tower.

  The décor was casual, continuing the boardroom motif. A mirror on one wall bounced back her reflection off of the opposite mirror, creating an endless line of Catherines watching her. A framed image of a serene forest glade caught her attention. The photo was soothing, the waterfall running over the rocks down to the small creek almost hypnotic.

  “That’s a lovely picture,” she said.

  “Thank you,” he called back. “Took it on Terra Nine. I specialize in photography.”

  Harry appeared, holding a photo album in his hands. He sat down opposite Catherine and smiled.

  She smiled back, treading water in an unknown pool.

  His gaze went to the multiple images reflected in the mirrors.

  “Damn. One minute, please.” He took hold of a dark brown afghan hung artistically on the wall and flipped the edge over to cover one mirror. “Sorry. It makes the room look larger but it can be a bit disconcerting.”

  He sat back down and put one hand on the book. “This visit is off the books, of course.”

  He wasn’t smiling anymore.

  “Of course,” Catherine repeated. A cold sensation trickled down her spine, the same feeling she’d had in the life pod.

  Fear. Anticipation. Mixed in with a healthy dose of curiosity as to why this courtesan wanted to talk to her.

  Harry tilted his head to one side. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m good. You wanted to talk?”

  He opened the thick book and dug through the pages. “According to Guild rules we leave our old lives once we come on board. You understand?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t see the need to repeat the conversation she’d had with Kendra.

  “How I got here is none of your business.” He swiveled the book around. “But this part of my past is.”

  The color image of a young man wearing a military uniform leaped out at her. The spitting image of Harry he grinned at the photographer, grasping a ceremonial sword with pride.

  “My twin brother. Max.” The words came out between clenched teeth. “First of his class. Commissioned officer in the infantry.”

  She felt like she’d been hit in the gut.

  “He died on the way to the Hub.” Harry tapped the image. “When we got the news we thought it was an enemy attack, the terrorists blowing his transport apart before they could arrive and reinforce the troops already there.” He stopped, index finger on the glossy paper. “They sent my father and mother a medal and a note. There was nothing else to send.”

  The coffee curdled in her stomach.

  “All they told us was that he was dead. I went through my grieving period, put it behind me and moved on with my life. My parents did the same.” He drew a deep breath before continuing. “Now you’re telling me there’s a good chance your company intentionally put them in danger—more danger than if they’d been given blanks instead of real bullets for their guns.”

  She resisted the urge to put her hand up to her neck and stroke the locket.

  His jaw tightened, the unblemished skin drawn taut over his handsome features.

  “I’m sorry.” The lame words choked her back into silence.

  “You say you’re going to testify against them. Are you serious about this?” His voice dropped down to a menacing rumble. “Or is this some stunt to boost your stocks and make money?”

  She stared at him, her mind a mushy blur.

  “My brother is dead and nothing can change that.” He turned the book back around. “And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that if this is true, I want the heads of all the men and women involved.”

  “Including me,” she whispered.

  It wasn’t a question. She didn’t want it to be.

  Harry tilted his head to one side. “Revenge is a seductive lady.” He glared at her. “I could snap your neck easy enough before you even knew what was happening.” His hand gestured at
the ceiling. “And Belle’s not activated in here. You can’t call for help.”

  Catherine swallowed. She tried not to look around, tempt herself to draw up scenarios where Sean burst in through the door to save her.

  She had to save herself.

  “You could kill me,” she murmured. “Right here, right now. Would that make you happy?”

  “Maybe. And the marshal would snap the cuffs on me and I’d spend the rest of my life in a small cell. But it wouldn’t bring back my brother or the hundreds of others who died to make you a rich woman.” He shut the album with a snap. “I’m asking you again. Are you serious about testifying or is this another fucking game?”

  “My ship—”

  His voice rose. “I’ve seen special effects before, lady. Robot ships, arranged explosions, whatever. It all makes a good story, the Mercy ship showing up at the last minute to save the poor stranded rich woman and spirit her away to safety.”

  “It’s not faked.” She didn’t know what to say. “Real people died to save me.”

  “You’re saying that but we don’t know squat, do we?” He tapped the photo album. “I didn’t major in business but I’ve read about stock scams. You threaten to testify, make it look like you’re in danger, get the media filing huge stories about the upcoming trial and people start selling off their stock in preparation for Global Transport going down. At the last minute you recant your testimony and the case falls apart. The company survives and someone gets very rich buying up all the discounted stock dumped in the pre-trial panic.” He shook his head. “See, I don’t think it was a coincidence we were within range to save you. I think it’s part of this entire game and we’re being played for fools. The question is—” he stood up and leaned toward her, resting his knuckles on the varnished wood, “—how do you prove to me otherwise?”

  “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” Rage flared, drowning out the fear. “Why can’t you take my word for it?” Her hand flew up and grabbed the locket. “You go talk to Jenny, go talk to the captain and ask them if that was a real ship blowing up. You go ask Sean about my injuries.”

  The red tunnel swirled around her, obscuring her peripheral vision. She stood up, her nose brushing against his.

  “I got half my body fried.” She shoved her left arm in his face, displaying the burned skin. “That’s not a special effect and that’s not makeup. And it hurts like hell so don’t fuck with me right now,” Catherine snarled. “You want revenge for your brother and I’ll get you that. If you want to believe this is some sort of game, some financial bluff, then you go on believing that. All I know is I won’t let you or your friends die trying to get me to safety. If I didn’t give a shit I’d be on the marshal’s ship right now, laughing all the way to a Justice base. Game fucking over.”

  The effort left her weak and dizzy. She slumped back in her chair, her sight blurred.

  “Okay.” The soft voice shocked her eyes open again.

  Harry sat across from her, rubbing his chin. He watched her in silence for a minute before speaking again.

  “I’m sorry for my previous words. But the people on this ship, this—” He gestured toward the walls. “This is my new family and I’m sworn to protect them to the best of my abilities. All threats, external and internal.” A sheepish smile appeared. “Sort of the same pledge my brother made. I had to know for them and for myself that you were real.”

  “As real as it gets,” Catherine croaked, her throat dry and sore.

  He got to his feet and bowed. “Let me get you some water.”

  Catherine watched him walk back into the bedroom, letting herself enjoy the view of his perfectly sculpted ass.

  Harry returned and placed a glass of water in front of her before sitting down. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard before speaking. “I’ll understand if you want to call the captain and register a complaint with the Guild or even the marshal to pursue charges regarding my actions. I had to be sure—” He stopped, seeing her upraised hand.

  “Tell me about your brother.” Catherine reached over and tapped the album. Her fingers curled around the glass. “Tell me all about him.”

  * * *

  Sean resisted the urge to stand outside Harry Lafayette’s suite.

  The urge to pace, however, was overwhelming.

  He strode up and down the hallway. Upon reaching one end he’d pivot like a soldier on guard duty and head for the other end.

  One of the doors opened, interrupting his endless orbit.

  “What the hell are you doing?” April frowned. “You’ve been out here for a good half hour, if not more.”

  “I didn’t think you could hear me.”

  She tapped her left ear, the long black strands of hair wrapped up behind her head in a tight bun. “You sound like an elephant on a rampage. Can’t miss that. What’s the problem?”

  “Nothing.” He heard his voice rise an octave and winced inside. “Nothing at all.”

  “Is this because she’s inside with Harry? I saw the two of them leave the galley.” April crossed her arms and smiled. “Sean Harrison, are you jealous?”

  “No. No!” He sliced the air with his hand. “I’m concerned for her health. She’s still weak from her ordeal and the captain put me in charge of keeping her well until this is all over.” He jerked a thumb at Lafayette’s door. “I don’t want another emergency call.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure Harry’s taking care of her.” She grinned. “Good for the rookie to take some initiative. Bedding an exec like her is going to get him a good bonus from the Guild. If he’s got his eye on transferring out to a higher tier it’s a good start.” She tugged on another wayward strand of hair. “If he’s doing it right she should be pretty energized by the time she comes out.” April frowned. “Or comatose. I keep forgetting which one’s best for which gender.”

  “She’s not—” Sean paused, taking control of his words before he said something he’d regret. April wasn’t overly sensitive but he knew maligning Harry’s character or occupation wasn’t going to be good for his relationship with the courtesan.

  April Osano was not only a martial artist, she was also a licensed BDSM Mistress and taught self-defense courses.

  Not a woman he wanted as an enemy.

  April raised an eyebrow. “She’s only human, Sean. Like the rest of us. And you, of all people, should know women have needs. Lord knows she’s been through a lot in the past few days. It’s not surprising she’d seek a little comfort. She can afford it and Harry’s a sweet fellow. I’m sure he’s doing his best to serve her.” She turned away with a flourish of her pink housecoat sleeve. “You should go relax. Things are going to get wild around here soon enough.”

  As if on cue Harry’s door opened.

  Sean froze.

  April crossed her arms and leaned on the doorframe, wearing a stoic look.

  Catherine stepped out first, her right hand in Harry’s grasp as she stepped over the hatch’s edge.

  Sean stared at her, inspecting her clothing.

  Was that shirt tucked in or out when she’d been in the galley? Was she always barefoot? Her cheeks were flushed. Was that because of—

  Catherine turned to face Harry, pointedly ignoring the two witnesses. “Thank you for everything.”

  “No, thank you.” The bare-chested man smiled and kissed the back of her hand. “Please call me if you have any further—” he shot a sly glance at Sean, “—requests.”

  Catherine didn’t look at Sean or April during the short walk to her own suite.

  He knew that look. He’d been responsible for many a woman leaving his cabin with it.

  She wasn’t on the Belle. She was elsewhere, mentally visiting another reality.

  The door closed behind her and she was gone.

  Harry grinned and looked at Sea
n. “Quite a lady.”

  Sean pointed at him, trying hard to keep his index finger from trembling. “Watch what you say about her.”

  “What?” Harry stepped into the corridor and stood in front of him, hands spread. “What’s your problem?”

  “You.” Sean leaned forward. “Taking advantage of a woman when she’s not feeling her best. What the hell are they teaching you back in training?” His voice rose. “You pick her pockets too?”

  “Is that what this is all about? The money?” Harry laughed. “You upset because you didn’t get to her first?” He rubbed his thumb and first finger together. “She’s a good tipper by the way. Appreciates the extra things.”

  Sean’s vision shut down to a dark scarlet tunnel with the young courtesan in the middle of it.

  With an angry yell, he sprang.

  Harry snickered before ducking down and charging at him in response, leaping out of his doorway with youthful speed.

  “No.” April said before Sean found himself down on the floor, the right side of his face mashed into the cool metal panel. His left arm was above and behind him at a painful angle, keeping him pinned.

  Damn. He’d forgotten how fast April could be, especially when she was annoyed.

  He twisted to one side and saw Harry beside him, snarling in the same pose with his right arm pulled back.

  April came into sight, leaning between the pair. “This is not going to happen. Not on my watch.” She gave a warning yank on both men’s arms.

  Sean grunted.

  Harry let out a girlish cry, making Sean feel better.

  “Whatever Ms. Rogers does or doesn’t do with anyone aboard this ship is her business and her business alone. You—” Harry grimaced at the unseen touch. “You should know better than to say anything about a client. That’s not how we work and you know it. Do it again and I’ll report you to Kendra and let her figure out whether to give you extra classes here on the ship or recommend you return to the Guild for retraining.”

  “And you should know better, period.” Sean whimpered as a jagged bolt of pain shot up his arm into his shoulder. “I get you’re concerned about her but we are not going to have open fighting here or anywhere on the Belle. If you’re worried about her you talk directly to her.” Another painful tweak of an arm muscle. “Do I make myself clear?”