“What a charming visual, thanks for that. And that would be a lucky shot.”
“No, it wouldn’t. Ten minutes ago, I watched her use the same move to knock a kasmet piece off a glass without touching the glass. Trust me, if she wanted him dead, he’d be dead.”
Wells dropped the broken paintbrush, leaned her elbows on her desk, and rubbed her face. “I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”
“Seeing violence is different than seeing the effects of it,” Ekatya said gently. “You were shocked. It’s understandable.”
“I didn’t think I was capable of shock anymore.” She propped up her head with two fingers against her temple. “I guess we’re all learning things today.”
“I certainly did. Rahel needs hugs?”
“I told you that. She needs physical contact to mitigate the effects of emotional pressure.”
“Yes, but I didn’t realize ‘physical contact’ was doctor-speak for hug. Do you have a sign-up sheet somewhere? I bet half the crew would put their names on it.”
“As if I’d expose her to that. I won’t let her medical needs become a point of vulnerability. Especially not now, when she’s still learning how to negotiate the social interactions.”
“You’re very protective.”
“I’m—” She caught on and glared, making it impossible for Ekatya to hold back her amusement any longer. “That was a nasty trick.”
“Psychology is part of the job description, remember?”
“Is smugness part of it, too?” At the sound of the door chime, she sat upright, once again all business. “Thank you. I’ll consider your words of wisdom, and I use that term loosely.”
“Would it kill you to admit I’m right?”
“No, but it would probably reduce my life-span.” She tapped the deskpad to admit her guest.
The bulky frame of Commander Cox stood in the doorway. “Captain,” he said in a surprised tone. “I was on my way to see you next.”
“You have news?”
“I’d have more if I could speak to the assailant.” Shifting his gaze to Dr. Wells, he added, “Someone forgot to inform me that he was out of surgery.”
“Out of surgery, yes. Conscious and able to talk, no. I said I’d inform you when you could speak to him.”
“It would have been a professional courtesy to keep me updated on his condition regardless.”
“I informed the captain and have been speaking with her since then. Or do I not have a full grasp of the chain of command?”
“Commander, please come in,” Ekatya said, hoping to defuse this bomb before it went off.
The chief surgeon and chief of security had gotten along like oil and water since the day they met, probably because they were too much alike. Both were brusquely outspoken, cared little for the egos that got bruised along the way, and were undisputed rulers of their domains. Every time they were in a room together, Ekatya could see the hackles rising as they subtly tried to establish dominance.
Cox crossed the room with a heavy tread. He was slightly bow-legged and had a square look about him: wide nose, strong jaw, blocky shoulders, and a torso the same width as his hips and thighs. It made him look overweight, but he was solid muscle.
He dropped into the chair next to Ekatya and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Commander Kenji is still in Helkenn’s quarters with a couple of data analysts, taking apart his com system. My officers are wrapping up the room search. So far we’ve found no communications out of the ordinary and nothing in his possessions.” He pulled the top two tabs on his jacket. “Except for his orders.”
“You just said there was nothing unusual in his communications,” Dr. Wells observed.
“This wasn’t in his com system. The odd bit is that it wasn’t hidden all that well. I think we were supposed to find it.” Cox reached into his inside pocket and produced a transparent evidence bag. Inside was a piece of paper folded into a packet and sealed with putty.
“Shipper shit!” Ekatya snatched it from his hand and exchanged a look of horror with Dr. Wells before examining the design impressed into the seal.
Cox looked between them with a furrowed brow. “You’ve seen this before.”
“To my eternal regret. This is from Sholokhov.”
“Sholokhov? The director of Protectorate Security? That doesn’t make sense.”
Ekatya pinched the bridge of her nose. “You weren’t here for our first mission. You missed some of the finer details.”
“I read everything in the logs.”
“Everything I included, yes. I didn’t include this.” She held up the packet. “Sholokhov uses a low-tech encryption system and hand-written orders for his most secretive ops. When I worked for him, I saw him sign and hand off hundreds of these. The seal is from one of his signet rings, and he uses different ring faces for different orders.”
“Ingenious,” Cox said.
“You’ll never go wrong counting on Sholokhov’s intelligence. Did you read it?”
“Imaged it.” He activated his pad and passed it over. “You won’t like it.”
“I already know that.”
She read the orders and clenched her hand so tightly that it was a wonder the pad didn’t shatter. Her breath quickened as she sat motionless, paralyzed by fury and the lack of any professionally appropriate outlet for it.
“What does it say?” Dr. Wells’s voice was uncharacteristically small.
Not trusting herself, Ekatya gestured at Cox.
“It’s a kill order for First Guard Sayana. Captain Serrado was to witness the hit.”
Wells stared, her jaw slack. “What—why—he’s the one who signed off on the pilot program! She wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t approved it!”
“I don’t get it either.” For once, Cox dropped his challenging attitude toward Wells. “I especially don’t understand why the captain was supposed to see it. That guaranteed Helkenn’s detainment. Unless he had the galaxy’s most ingenious escape plan, he was on a one-way trip to the brig.”
“Second-guessing Sholokhov is a fool’s game.” Ekatya had found her voice. “You never have as much information as he does. But in this case, I think I can come up with a reasonable theory.”
“Are you going to share it?” Cox asked when she paused.
Slowly, she shook her head. “Not yet. I think this might be at least partly personal, and I want to give him a chance to prove me wrong before I say anything.”
“It’s personal that he put a kill order on the first Alsean warrior to serve in Fleet?” Cox bristled. “Why, because you were the one to propose the program?”
“I didn’t propose it. That came from the Alsean government.”
“But you did support it,” Dr. Wells said. “You were named in it. They didn’t ask to put an Alsean on any other ships, or with any other captain. Would he—” Her voice cracked and sank to just above a whisper. “Would he really kill Rahel for a grudge?”
“No. He’d kill her because she’s a game piece.” Ekatya handed the pad back to Cox and stood up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call.”
12
Kasmet game piece
It never seemed to matter what time of day or night it was in Gov Dome; Sholokhov was always in his office. Ekatya thought she should probably be flattered that her call went through rather than being screened by his assistant, but being the focus of Sholokhov’s attention was rarely a good thing. He was brilliant, dangerous, and second only to the President and the Assembly Leader in authority. She no longer reported directly to him, but that only meant he didn’t write her orders. Displeasing him could considerably accelerate her retirement.
It had been a year since she last saw him. He looked exactly the same, with his hooked nose, bushy eyebrows, and unsettling blue eyes contrasting with his black skin.
“A pleasure as always, Captain. To what do I owe it?”
“Remember what I said last year about professional courtesy? I take it back. Let’s not bother.”
“Your kill order failed. Sayana passed your little test.”
He showed no reaction. “He’s dead?”
That gave her pause. “You wanted her to kill him? I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. She’s a better warrior than that. She neutralized him in half a second.”
“Impressive.” He nodded. “Most impressive. And not what I expected.”
“You expected a barbarian,” she said flatly.
“Did she use a sword?”
“Oh, for the—no. She used a stave.”
“A stave! Even better!” His smile would have frightened a berserker boar. “What an intriguing combination of primitive and advanced these Alseans are. A whole new evolutionary branch with mental powers we can only dream of, held back by a culture two steps above hunting and gathering.”
She took a breath to tamp down her rage before speaking in a careful tone. “What was the purpose of this?”
“It was important to know her capabilities. It’s all very well to read reports from biased and questionable sources, but I prefer facts.”
The jab at Lhyn’s research was infuriating, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing it. “And what facts do you think you’ve acquired? All you know is that she neutralized an assassin.”
“I know that she is, in fact, capable of sensing lethal intent. And that’s a mid empath; imagine what their high empaths must be capable of! I know she acted immediately on what she sensed, because if she hadn’t, she’d be dead. I know that despite sensing murderous intent, she chose to neutralize her enemy instead of killing him. How did she do that, by the way?”
She did not want to give this man even one more data point than he had already gathered, but making an enemy of Sholokhov was not just a career-ender. It could be a life-ender as well.
“She hit him in the sternum.”
He made a rolling gesture. “Don’t make me dig for it, Captain. I’ve been waiting to hear how this game played out.”
Three different responses went through her mind, all equally inadvisable. “He followed your orders to the letter. He waited until we were together and ambushed us outside shuttle operations, pretending to be a crew member with something to show me. That ‘something’ turned out to be a phaser.”
Sholokhov rested his chin in his hand, listening with apparent fascination.
“She had her stave out before I even saw it and incapacitated him in one strike, then told me to look in his belt pouch. I found the phaser charged and ready to fire.”
“Did she know which of you was the target?”
“Yes. She did.”
“Amazing,” he murmured. “They really are what your Dr. Rivers says they are.”
She couldn’t help herself. “Did you ever consider that Dr. Rivers is a scientist who concerns herself with academic integrity? That her conclusions are the most accurate she can draw?”
“I considered it. In fact, I’m certain she’s one of those people who worries incessantly about getting every speck of truth put in place. I’m also certain she has an emotional attachment to Alsea which may cloud her judgment. There’s no need to hiss at me, Captain. I think the best of your favorite doctor. It’s no reflection on her that I needed to verify her conclusions. If we’re going to be bringing Alsean empaths into Fleet operations, we need to know what they’re capable of.”
“And you could think of no better way to do this than to order an assassination attempt on my ship?”
“We’re in new territory here,” he said with a careless shrug. “That woman is the first of her kind. If she was what your Dr. Rivers claimed, then she was never in danger. If she wasn’t . . . better to know that sooner than later.”
She was at risk of grinding her teeth flat. “What am I supposed to do with your assassin now?”
“Prosecute, of course. What did you think?”
“Do you value all of your employees that highly? No, never mind, I already know the answer to that.”
“He’s not an employee. He’s a low-level thug who got himself into a bad situation. I offered a way out. It’s not my problem that he thought immunity for past crimes meant immunity for new ones, too.”
That “low-level thug” had joined her crew with a shining record scrubbed clean by Sholokhov. The idea that she had so little control over the quality of her staff made Ekatya’s hair stand on end.
“In other words, you promised him immunity if he’d do one simple job for you, and now you’re throwing him out of the airlock.”
He leaned back, affecting a pose of casual ease. “Ah, there she is. The righteous Captain Serrado, upholding justice for all. Believe me, the sentence he’ll get for attempted murder is far less than he would have gotten otherwise.”
Lovely. She probably had a serial killer in her medbay.
Holding up the packet, she said, “You realize that this is evidence for the prosecution. How were you planning to keep your name out of it?”
“I didn’t send that. It’s a clever forgery, but sadly, the forger put the wrong seal on it. It doesn’t match the seals I used on the date that packet was written. I’ll confirm that and so will my assistant.”
“Perjury’s not a concern for either of you, then?”
This smile was slightly less terrifying. “Still upright and uptight, I see. You’re so concerned with the minutiae that you lose sight of the big picture. It makes you a great captain, but you’d fail my job in half a day.”
“I’d never want your job.” When he chuckled, seemingly pleased by the statement, she pushed her advantage. “It seems to me that after causing so much trouble on my ship, you owe me a small favor.”
Though his chuckle stopped, he was still smiling. “And what is it you think I owe you?”
“Reassurance. I have a data analyst team in Helkenn’s quarters right now, searching for links to the DOP. If they find any, will those links be real? Is there any real danger to Dr. Rivers?”
He gazed at her for several uncomfortable seconds before shaking his head. “They’ll find real links, yes. Which you will use to prosecute, and which will make certain members of the DOP even more nervous than they are now. A situation I intend to maximize. But no, there are no other DOP sympathizers on your ship . . . that I know of.” He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on his desk. “I recommend you never let Dr. Rivers set foot on Tashar, though. Not even Command Dome would be safe for her.”
“I had no intention of it.”
“Good. I’d like a full report on this incident by tomorrow morning. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to dinner.” He waited a moment. “No? Then good night, Captain.”
His image vanished and was replaced by the priority blue emblem.
She dropped her head back and let out a long exhale. “Stars and Shippers, I hate that man,” she mumbled.
It was personal, despite his grandiose statement about the big picture. He hadn’t needed her eyewitness account; he could have picked up the details from Commander Cox’s report. But he had wanted her there as a reminder that even on her own ship, he called the shots.
That his juvenile need to prove his supremacy had terrified Lhyn . . . Her fingers itched to wrap around his throat. He had saved Lhyn not too long ago, and at the time she thought she would be forever grateful to him.
Forever wasn’t as long as it used to be.
With a few taps to her deskpad, she pulled up the recording she had made of the call. Though she had no delusions about ever prosecuting Sholokhov, a little insurance couldn’t hurt.
It came as no surprise that the recording had failed.
13
Beakers
The murder attempt marked a shift in attitudes toward Rahel. Lhyn said it would have happened eventually, but Sholokhov’s “test” accelerated the process. Where before she was the alien empath, now she was an inno
cent crew member who had been attacked on their ship by a DOP radical.
She didn’t understand it until Lhyn explained, “This isn’t just a job for most of them. The Phoenix is their home. You were attacked in their home. They’re angry about that.”
“How does that lead to this?” Rahel gestured at the crowded corridor they were walking through, lined on both sides with shops and services for the crew. “They’re smiling at me.” Even those who remained uneasy were making an effort to appear friendly.
“How would you feel if you had a guest staying with you, someone you didn’t particularly like or feel comfortable with, and then an outsider attacked her in your living room?”
Rahel stopped walking.
Lhyn took two more steps, realized she had lost her companion, and backtracked. “Did a blinding light go off in your brain?”
“Dazzling. Now I feel stupid for not seeing it.”
“Don’t do that.” Lhyn moved closer, exuding an intensity that Rahel could not look away from. “Everyone has their own kind of smarts. Mine is in understanding patterns. Language, behavior . . . they’re both sets of patterns. Don’t underestimate what you have here.” She tapped Rahel’s temple. “The way you learn and adapt to what you’re learning—it’s phenomenal. You’re setting a high standard for the Alseans coming after you.”
“I’m going to miss you when this patrol is over.” Already she could hardly bear to think about it.
“Because I say nice things to you?”
“Because you’re not just my guide. You’re my friend.”
Lhyn’s eyes softened. “You’re mine, too.” She pulled Rahel into a warmron, her affection cresting like a wave hitting the sea wall. It was an almost physical force, and Rahel pitied Captain Serrado for not being able to sense it. If Lhyn’s friendship felt like this, what must her love be like?
“I might be coming along on more patrols,” Lhyn said as they separated. “This hasn’t been nearly as bad as I expected. Lanaril was right. She said I needed to see for myself that I’d healed enough to be comfortable here.”
Resilience Page 11
