Trojan Horse

by R. M. Olson

  Tanya studied her for a long time. There was that trace of hardness in her face that Ysbel recognized from her years in prison. At last, slowly, she nodded. “Ysi,” she said. “On this, I believe you and I agree perfectly.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “JEZ.”

  She looked up from the controls, and managed to paste a smile on her face.

  Lev stood in the doorway. He looked almost as awkward as she felt. “Do you mind if I—I have the coordinates, if you’d like me to—”

  “Yeah. Thanks. That’d be good.” She looked away from him quickly, fixing her gaze out the cockpit window.

  Lev sighed, and slipped through the door. A moment later, she heard the slight creak of the copilot’s seat as he slid into it, and the sound of him letting out a long breath. And for a moment, something stung at the corners of her eyes, a knot rising in her throat, because once upon a time that sound had been maybe the most comforting thing in her life, the sound that meant that everything was as it should be. Back before—well before everything had gotten complicated. Before she’d stupidly let herself get into a sort-of-almost relationship with him, and then broken up with him, and hurt him, and wrecked every last damn thing, before she’d opened the door to the suite a few days later and seen him half undressed, kissing a woman she’d never seen before. And hell, he had every right to kiss whoever he wanted to, but somehow she’d still felt like someone had punched her in the gut.

  He pulled up the holoscreen in front of him, and for a few moments they sat in silence. Finally, he said quietly. “Are you alright? I mean, with the ship and everything?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “‘Course. I’m always alright.”

  He shook his head. “Galina told me that she was worried you were going catatonic.”

  Jez bit down hard on the back of her teeth, because there were damn tears trying to form in the corners of her eyes, which was absolutely ridiculous. “Nah. I’m fine. I just—I—”

  He was watching her now, and she felt her grin falter.

  “It’s alright, Jez,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if it helps, but I think every last one of us threatened Masha with some sort of violence if she screwed this up. We’re not going to let you lose the Ungovernable.”

  She stared at him for a moment, and this time she did have to blink back tears. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Um. Thanks.”

  He was still looking at her, and she forced her gaze to the cockpit window in front of her, heart rate jumping.

  Damn.

  She’d been very careful, this whole past week, that no matter where she went or what she did, she wouldn’t be alone with Lev. Because—well, because she’d quite frankly rather go up against every last damn one of Olyessa’s fighter ships all at once than try to untangle that much crap.

  “Jez?” he said at last, and there was something in his voice, something tentative and unsure, that made her glance over at him without meaning to.

  “Yeah?” She wasn’t actually sure how she managed to get the word out.

  “Jez.” He paused, looking down at his hands. Finally, he glanced up again and caught her eyes. “I—I wanted to apologize.”

  She frowned. Her heart was beating so damn fast that maybe she’d just misheard.

  He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m—afraid I made a mess of a lot of things over the past few weeks.”

  “I—I mean, I’m—” she swallowed hard. “I’m glad you found someone. I mean, we agreed, right? So I’m glad you … I’m glad you found someone you liked. She, um, looked like she’s probably good for you.”

  The words stung in her throat, but hell, they were the truth.

  He gave a rueful smile. “We’re not actually together. But thank you. I’m—I’m glad you’re happy as well. Galina is a lovely woman. But—well, but I could have handled things a lot differently, and I’m sorry. I. Um.” He looked down again. “You—told me you didn’t want us to be together because you didn’t know how to do relationships. I—well, I suppose I don’t either. I don’t even know how to be a friend, apparently. I’ve screwed up a lot of things lately, I think.” He looked up wryly. “Ysbel had to yell at me, and she was right, to be honest. But Jez,” he paused, and there was something strangely vulnerable in his expression. “I—I’d like to learn to be friends, if—if you want. I’d like to try to be friends with you again. I won’t ask you for anything more, I promise.”

  She stared at him for a long time, something painful swirling in her chest. And for a moment she was tempted to tell him she didn’t actually want anything to do with him, because it was too much, and she couldn’t handle it, and she didn’t know if she even wanted to handle it at this point.

  But—

  But, well, the truth was, she missed him. She missed their companionable silences, she missed turning in the pilot’s seat and seeing him there, bent over his holoscreen or staring out the front window. And she hadn’t realized how much she missed him, not until that very moment, and the missing him rose up in her throat until it almost choked her.

  “Yeah,” she managed finally. “Yeah, I guess we could try that.”

  He smiled at her, for a brief, unguarded moment, and there was a sort of undisguised happiness and relief in his face she hadn’t seen there in a very long time.

  “Thanks, Jez,” he said at last. “I—missed you.”

  “Yeah,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes. “I missed you too, you bastard.” She found she was smiling too, and something heavy and sick that had been sitting on her chest, almost choking the life out of her, had lifted, replaced by a sort of lightness.

  She turned back towards the cockpit window, glancing down at the coordinates he’d sent to her com, and for a few minutes they sat in a companionable, comfortable silence.

  And she honestly hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed this. How much the thought of losing Lev had ripped away at her insides, and how having him back was like a heat-kit on a blast wound, soothing and cooling and somehow putting her back together.

  He bent over his holoscreen again, and a few moments later, the landing coordinates popped up on her screen.

  “That’s the pleasure house Masha’s purchased,” he said. “I believe it has a small hangar bay. If you were anyone else, I’d say set down somewhere outside, but I’m certain you can put us down there if you want to. There’s a gate in the city force field just a few streets down, I’ll put that through to your com as well.”

  She nodded, and he looked up at her and smiled, and—and, well, it was a nice feeling. That she could just smile back without worrying about any of that other crap.

  Her fingers tightened on the controls as she brought the ship down through the atmosphere on the planet. She’d never actually liked this place, and the same tightness in her stomach she’d felt the first time she came here reasserted itself.

  She took a deep breath.

  This time, though, it was different.

  This time, they were coming to take the whole damn place down.

  When she saw the city glimmering in the distance she hit the throttle, and the ship leapt forward. She twisted them up on one side without slowing to skim through the force-field entrance, then yanked down the choke and dropped them neatly through the doors of a cramped hangar bay in the overgrown back garden of a huge, tumbledown building.

  She pulled down the power to the ship, then turned to grin at Lev. “See genius? You’re getting better at this. One of these days you’re not even going to look like you’re about to throw up every time I fly.”

  “I’m—not certain you’re correct,” he muttered. “But one can only hope.”

  She winked, and he cracked a reluctant smile in return. Then she turned back to the cockpit window, a familiar weight settling over her.

  It had been a long time since she’d been here, but somehow it had never totally left her mind, niggling in the back of her brain, popping up in her nightmares. The emerald green of the long grasses, the heat of the sun, the smell of
dust in the air.

  The girl’s scream, as Jez ran down the cobbled streets.

  She hadn’t done anything back then. There hadn’t been time, and besides, there was nothing she could have done, except maybe get herself and the rest of the damn crew killed.

  But this time—This time, she was damn well going to do something. They all were.

  She glanced over at Lev. There was a distant look in his face and a tight set to his mouth that told her he was thinking some of the same thing she was.

  She pushed herself to her feet and took a deep, steadying breath.

  Anyways, might as well get it over with.

  The others were gathered and waiting for them when she and Lev arrived on the main deck. Masha looked as calm and unruffled as ever, but there was a tinge of grey in her normally brown complexion, and a hint of exhaustion behind her eyes, and Jez frowned slightly.

  It had been a while since she’d seen Masha look tired. She hadn’t actually really thought, in the tangled, confusing mess that was Lev, and Galina, and Masha’s betrayal, and everything else, about what this must mean to Masha.

  Grigory had killed her parents, when she was just a kid. And this, now, was Masha paying a long-held debt.

  Jez repressed a shiver.

  She wasn’t afraid of many things. But after the past few months, she was very glad that she wasn’t on the ledger of people Masha wanted revenge on.

  Well, at least not for anything big.

  Masha turned to them, ignoring the venom in the glances of the others.

  “This is what we’ll be turning into a pleasure house. We’re situated outside the pleasure district, and on the very outskirts of the city, which will make it much more difficult for Grigory to track who comes in and out, and should make it simpler to secure. However, I will caution you—it will take a great deal of work to turn this into anything resembling a viable pleasure house, and we do not have much time.” She glanced around at them. “With that in mind, does anyone have questions?”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “I believe we’ve said all there is to say,” said Lev quietly.

  Masha nodded at Jez. “Very well. Jez?”

  Jez hit the control panel, and the door hissed open.

  The light from outside almost blinded her, and she blinked a few times before she ducked out the door and jumped from the slowly-lowering ramp to the courtyard below. She rubbed her eyes hard, and looked around.

  Then she whistled.

  “You weren’t kidding about this place being a piece of work,” she said, turning in a slow circle.

  From the air, the building and the courtyard surrounding it looked slightly decrepit, but still in decent shape. From the ground, though, she could see the tangles of rotting vegetation in what must have once been a garden, the broken stones of the fountains, the crumbling rot in the luxurious false front of the building, half-collapsed and exposing the dirty prefab blocks underneath.

  “Believe me, I’ve been in worse,” said Galina from beside her. Her voice was hard, and there was a grim tightness around her mouth.

  “You OK, Galya?” Jez asked, turning.

  Galina looked up and gave her a tight smile. “I’m fine. Just—brought back some memories.”

  Jez took Galina’s hand, trying to force down the creeping sick nausea that standing on this damn planet brought. “Hey,” she said quietly. “If you need to stay in the ship for a bit, take some time—”

  Galina squeezed her hand and smiled up at her, and Jez’s heart skipped strangely. Because hell, she didn’t know how to handle crap like this, that was basically the exact reason she didn’t do relationships. One of the reasons, anyways.

  But the way Galina looked at her—like she trusted her. Like Jez was the place she felt safe.

  From somewhere behind her, someone cleared their throat loudly.

  She looked up, glaring.

  Ysbel stood there, looking amused. “Come on, you two. We have work to do.”

  “Fine,” Jez grumbled. “What are we doing?”

  Ysbel gestured with her head to Masha. “Ask her. I’m on Misko duty right now.”

  Jez rolled her eyes and strolled towards Masha, not letting go of Galina’s hand.

  “Jez,” said Masha dryly. “I’m glad you were able to join us. I’d like Galina’s thoughts on the interior of the building.”

  Jez glanced quickly at Galina. Galina’s face tightened momentarily, but she nodded.

  “Alright,” said Jez. “Let’s go then.”

  They stepped through the doors into what had once been a spacious lobby, the high ceiling rising the full three stories of the decrepit building. On each of the two floors above, a falling-down balcony surrounded a wide walkway that overlooked the lobby, and behind it, Jez could see hallways leading away, lined with doorways on either side.

  Galina’s hand tightened in hers, and she glanced over. Galina’s face was set, her eyes haunted, her expression hard.

  “Galina,” said Masha quietly. “I assume you have a working knowledge of what needs to be fixed up?”

  Galina paused a moment, her eyes not moving from Masha’s. “I agreed to help,” she said at last, in a low voice. “But before I do, I need to know something. You’re turning this into a decoy pleasure house. Who will be working in it?”

  “The only people inside this house will be people who come of their own accord. I promise.” Masha’s voice was the same low calm as Galina’s, but there was a serious note in it.

  “And will they be safe?”

  This time, Masha cracked a small smile. “As safe as it’s possible to be, when the goal is to take down the mafia. I’ll only allow people who can take care of themselves to act as entertainment. They’ll have an emergency alarm, and we’ll have an extraction plan in place before we let them go up. And they’ll each carry a weapon as a last resort, in case things go in a direction we had not anticipated.”

  Galina studied Masha for a long moment, and Jez could feel her tension through their clasped hands. At last she nodded. “Alright,” she said, and that strange hardness was back in her voice. She loosened her hand from Jez’s and pulled up her holoscreen, frowned at it for a moment, then began sketching quickly. “These sections I’m marking we’ll need to repair. Whatever I leave unmarked, we won’t need to worry about. The courtyard will need to be repaired, of course, and the outside facing the street. I have some ideas.”

  Masha watched, a frown of concentration on her face, and Jez glanced around again at the empty, decaying building.

  Dust settled thick in the air, cut through here and there with a bright shaft of light that illuminated the dust motes like sparks. The air smelled musty, as if it had been sitting undisturbed for far too long, and held the sharp, bitter undertone of something dead and long decayed, probably a rat carcass in a corner somewhere.

  She shivered slightly.

  She hadn’t known Galina for long. But Galina wasn’t a woman who was easily unsettled, and Jez was pretty damn sure that whatever they were dealing with, it was something she really, really didn’t want to know the details of.

  By the time Galina and Masha had moved to a dusty, half-broken bench shoved up against the wall to continue their conversation, Jez was almost climbing out of her own damn skin. She took a deep breath and tried to keep from tapping her foot against the floor. She’d already counted every one of the balcony railings that were still intact, and she’d calculated how far she’d have to stand back to take a running jump to hurtle the railings. Probably survive the fall, too, if you were lucky and landed rolling.

  “Jez?”

  She looked up quickly.

  Galina was watching her, a small smile on her face even through the obvious strain. “I’m going to be here a while, I think. But at some point we’ll need to get a sense of the streets outside. It will affect how we set everything up. You may as well do that, instead of dying of boredom in here.”

  Jez could have kissed her, and almost d
id.

  Then she hesitated. “You … going to be OK here?” she asked.

  Generally in a situation like this, her first instinct would be to run as far and fast as she could. But—there was something in Galya’s face that made Jez want to stay. To—well, to protect her, somehow, which honestly, when you thought about it, was a bit crazy, since Galina was definitely the kind of girl who could take care of herself.

  Still, there was something about that haunted look in her eyes that made Jez want to kiss the hurt away, not because she enjoyed kissing Galya, although she did, but just because she wanted to see her smile again.

  “I’ll be fine, Jez,” she said, her dimples appearing, and damn it to hell, now Jez wasn’t totally sure she wanted to leave. “I just—this brings back some memories. That’s all. I told you about … about my friend—”

  Jez nodded, something twisting uncomfortably in her chest. “Yeah. I—look, I’m sorry. You sure you don’t want—”

  “Jez.” Galina cut her off with a small smile. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re about to drive yourself crazy. Go on. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  Jez paused a moment, torn between the probably ridiculous desire to make sure Galya was alright, and the desire to move before she honestly lost her damn mind.

  “Go,” Galya whispered. She stood and came over and kissed Jez gently on the lips. “I told you. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you on the com if I need you.”

  “Alright,” Jez said, when she caught her breath. Damn, that woman could kiss. Honestly, it was almost a pity they were going to go their own ways after this was done. “As long as you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.” Galina’s smile was genuine this time.

  Jez was already half-way out the door when Masha called, “Please don’t get into trouble. I don’t want to make our presence here any more obvious than it has to be until we’re in a slightly less vulnerable position.”