“Trade me? For what?”
“Star Struck.”
Natalya sat back in her chair, feeling smacked in the face by the grin on her father’s lips. “You’re going to trade a pimped-out Unwin Eight for an antique scout?”
He nodded. “In the first place, I know what that antique is worth. Monetarily I’m getting the better end of the deal. Emotionally, I’m much more connected to the Peregrine than I am the Unwin. Practically, I knew that antique was a temperamental bitch when I gave her to you. I honestly didn’t think you’d keep her this long. The Unwin has really long legs, enough cargo capacity to matter, and the staterooms it needs to do light passenger trade. It’s why they’re so popular out here.” He paused again and looked in her eyes. “Deal?” He held out his hand.
“Deal,” Natalya said, bypassing his hand and diving in for the hug she’d missed for far too long.
Regyri sat his daughter back down on the deck and held out a hand to Zoya. “Unless you want a hug, too.”
Zoya laughed and grasped his hand. “I think a handshake will do. We’ll head back and start the paperwork. Nothing cast in stone and we can negotiate the actual contract terms when you’re there and started to settle in. Maybe you can shadow me for a few days before you decide.”
Regyri nodded. “Sounds good, but I doubt that I’ll need much time to make up my mind.”
Natalya saw the look in his eyes. She was pretty sure Zoya did, too, because she just nodded.
“Then we’ll see you in a few days, Demetri.”
Natalya’s head felt like it might still be spinning when they docked at Zvezda Moya. “Did he really agree?”
Zoya nodded. “He did. Although we’re going to have to move.”
Natalya laughed, half in glee and half from nerves. “Onto the Star Struck.”
“Yeah. After this, we’re going to rattle around in that ship like two peas in a tin can. It even has a proper galley.”
“The first trip has to be to Margary,” Natalya said. “What will your grandparents have to say about it?”
Zoya shrugged. “That’s a conversation I’m not looking forward to, but it’s one I have to have if we’re ever going to move on with our own lives.”
“Want to predict the outcome?” Natalya asked, securing the engines and enjoying a jolt of pride in hearing the shore tie link up to the ship.
“No.” Zoya pulled off her seatbelts and stood, stretching. “I predict we’ll be free of Usoko Mining, but I don’t know what the cost will be.”
Natalya considered Zoya’s words. “It would suck if it came to that.”
Zoya nodded. “It would.” She looked at Natalya, her eyes full of pain. “I hope I’m up to it.”
“Zee?” Natalya said. “You’re up to anything. I’ve seen you. Follow your gut. It’s never—and I mean never—been wrong in the decade I’ve known you.”
“Even when I pushed you out of Port Newmar with a faked rocket attack?”
“Even then. You did what you thought was right. It was scary as hell, but it’s turned out to be exactly the thing we needed to do.”
Zoya blinked her eyes a couple of times before offering a small smile. “Are we here because it was the right thing to do? Or are we here because we’re just good at landing on our feet?”
Natalya grinned. “Is there a difference?”
Zoya grinned back. “I guess not.”
Chapter 66
Margary System:
2369, May 15
Zoya stared out of the Star Struck’s bridge, watching Big Rock grow larger by the tick. “They couldn’t have gotten wind of it,” she said.
“Given that he hadn’t even signed the contract before you got the message, I’m guessing that something else is going on.”
Natalya saw the haunted look in her friend’s eyes and tried not to think about what the most probable cause for the summary recall to Big Rock. Neither of them had voiced the concern but the probability seemed to suck half the air out of every compartment.
“How’s she handle?” Natalya asked.
“The ship?” Zoya shrugged. “She’s spritely enough but she’s no Peregrine.”
“She can also dock on a ring.”
Zoya gave a short laugh. “There’s that.” She reached for the headset before she remembered where she was.
Natalya pretended not to notice while Zoya sent the docking request to Big Rock Local.
“We’re cleared for the family dock,” Zoya said.
“That normal?”
Zoya shrugged. “Depends on who’s here, who’s arriving, and how much seniority. Could mean something, could mean nothing. We’ll know soon.”
The ring’s telltale showed green as they approached.
“You remember how to do this?” Natalya asked.
“Don’t jiggle the pilot’s elbow,” Zoya said with a smile that didn’t quite live up to her average wattage.
“I’ll go stand by the brow.” Natalya slipped off the bridge.
It still felt funny to have to walk so far to get to the lock. For over a decade the galley had been right behind her couch. The lock, just three steps down the passage. Star Struck was a proper clipper. One they couldn’t dock with cargo at any Confederation orbital. She’d need some time to adjust. Time she’d have while they looked for a ship they could both get hired on.
She reached the lock and peeked out the small port. The docking ring looked to be about three meters away, but she knew from experience that was a long three meters as the ship drifted in at just a few centimeters per tick.
There really wasn’t anything to do except brood over what they’d find.
Worst case, they had ship and reputations in the Toe-Holds. Every obstacle they’d faced in the Peregrine could be bested with the Star Struck. As much as she had loved the quirky scout, she discovered that she already liked the extra leg room—to say nothing of the possibilities—of her new ship.
The ship kissed the docking ring and the jaws clamped on with a solid ka-chunk. She threw the safety lock on and listened for the shore ties to link up. She punched a short message on the wall-mounted console in the passage before opening the inner lock door. She looked out at the docking gallery, waiting for Zoya before opening the lock.
It was a short wait. Zoya skidded into the lock as if she’d run from the bridge. She stopped and tugged on the hem of her tunic, taking the opportunity to brush off an imaginary piece of lint from her shoulder. She took a deep breath and nodded to Natalya.
The outer door levered open and revealed a tired, old man who bore only a superficial resemblance to the robust bear of a man they’d seen in Toe-Hold space. He raised his eyes, his gaze—shaky and uncertain—speared Zoya who ran off the ship and into his arms.
After a tear-streaked reunion, Zoya pushed him back to arm’s length and looked at him. He didn’t try to look away, simply stood there in pain and met her gaze.
Eventually he sighed. “Welcome home, Zajka.”
As a unit they turned and started down the gallery toward the residence inside the asteroid. They had only gone a few steps when Konstantin looked back. “Come, Natalya,” he said. “We’ll need your strength.”
Natalya didn’t feel very strong at that moment but she followed, keying the lock closed as she stepped off the ship. She felt like the solid rock under her might be tipped slightly, first one way then the other. The everlasting stone around her felt surreal. If she felt this off-balance, what must Zoya and Konstantin be feeling? She soon caught up to the pair, shuffling along at an old man’s pace.
They went to the kitchen where Zoya helped her grandfather into his customary chair.
The cook, Genevieve, brought him a cup from the kitchen and placed it in front of him. “Drink it, Konstantin. You need the fluid.”
He looked at it for a moment before picking it up on the fingertips of both hands, lowering his head and lifting it to his mouth as if it weighed ten kilos. He blew across it and took a slurping sip.
“G
ood,” Genevieve said. “Now talk.”
“She’s gone,” Konstantin said looking into his cup. “Aneurysm. Week ago now.”
Genevieve looked at Zoya. “I’m so sorry. Can I get you something?”
“Coffee would be lovely,” Zoya said, her voice sounding mechanical.
“Ms. Regyri?”
“It’s Natalya, and coffee’s fine, Genevieve. Thank you.” Natalya felt the grief like a miasma in the room. Thick and cloying, some emotional scrubber overload filling the room with its nasty by-products.
Zoya sat academy-straight on the front edge of her chair. “Thank you, Genevieve,” she said as the cook slipped a heavy mug in front of her.
Natalya nodded her thanks to Genevieve and took a sip. She watched Zoya for what seemed a very long time.
Zoya reached for her mug, her movements feeling sudden, hurried, as if she’d just been in stasis, a movie on pause, then released back into action. She took a sip and loosed a sigh. “Where is she now?”
Konstantin looked up. “Halfway to the primary by now, I should imagine.” He slurped a bit of tea. “Now that you’re here, we can have the memorial. We held off until you could arrive.” His movements became less wobbly, his voice stronger, the longer he spoke.
“Any other family coming?” Zoya asked.
“Your father sent his condolences from the belt.”
Zoya nodded. “Probably just as well.”
“How are things at Zvezda Moya?”
“Going well. The alloy tower went up a few days ago. I’ve made Madigan’s position official as production manager. Promoted one of the senior pilots—man named Hewson—to be fleet coordinator.”
“How’s Ms. Ahokas?” he asked.
“She’s doing very well. She’ll make an excellent deputy director.”
Konstantin straightened just slightly in his chair. “Who will be director?”
“I hired Demetri Regyri three weeks ago. I’d hoped to have more time to bring him up to speed but I’m sure he’ll be able to handle it with the team he has.”
Konstantin blinked once, a slow deliberate blink, then several times in rapid succession and seemed to come awake before our eyes. “Three weeks ago?”
“About that,” Zoya said.
He looked at Natalya who nodded.
“You hired Micah’s father?” His eyebrows jerked up and his eyes widened. “How did he take it?”
“He seemed pleased. I got the feeling he felt a little lost.”
“Well, he should be up to the job,” Konstantin said, taking a strong pull off his tea. “Did you see his station?”
“We visited it before we decided to offer him the job.”
Konstantin looked at Natalya. “I take it you were part of this ‘we’ she’s talking about?”
Natalya nodded. “I think he was ready for a new challenge. One of his terms was that he wanted the Peregrine back. He traded the Star Struck for her.”
“Oh, the Unwin, of course.” He sighed and took another drink of his tea. “Sorry, I’ve been a bit scattered.”
“Understandable,” Natalya said.
“Three weeks ago,” Konstantin said.
Zoya nodded.
“Why?” he asked.
“My instructions were to do whatever I thought necessary.”
“And you thought it necessary to hire Regyri to run the station?”
“I did. I still do.” She sighed and took a sip. “Apparently I had cause but didn’t know it.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry, Zajka.”
“There was nothing you could do, Pop-pop.”
“I’m sorry you’re having this shoved at you,” he said, his voice soft. “I know you wanted something else.”
“What happens now?” Zoya asked.
Genevieve stepped up to the table. “Now you go do whatever you need to. Sleep, bathe, scream, cry. Whatever you need. Dinner at 1800 if you want it.”
Zoya smiled and finally seemed to come fully back to life. “I had a feeling this was the reason for the recall,” she said. “I’ve had a few days to come to grips with it.”
“We both did,” Natalya said.
“I need to know what happens now with the company,” Zoya said. “What are you going to do, Pop-pop?”
He shook his head and looked into his cup. “I’m stepping down,” he said.
Genevieve sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. She started to speak but Zoya looked at her with a small shake of her head.
“You’re promoting your number two to operations?” Zoya asked. “What’s his name again?”
“Sanderson,” Konstantin said. “She’s been keeping the show running since ... ” He took a breath. “Since she passed.”
“Is that what Gram would have wanted you to do?” Zoya asked.
His eyes took on a watery sheen and he swallowed hard. “Yes,” he said. “She was quite vocal on the subject. She wanted me to step aside if she should die first. ‘Leave it to the next generation,’ she’d say. ‘I’ll do the same. We had our run and I wouldn’t want to do this without you at my side.’”
He paused to catch his breath and take a sip of his tea. “Turns out she was right. I don’t want to do this without her. It would be too hard. She said she wanted to retire stanyers ago but she wanted to wait until you were ready.” He paused and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry. No pressure. I don’t think she’d ever have been willing to retire, even if you’d been here trying to kick her out of her office.” He offered a small laugh and swallowed again. “She went as she would have preferred, I think. Blinked out on her way to butt heads with Manchester management.”
Zoya laughed with him and tears started to fill her eyes as well.
Genevieve stepped over to Natalya and patted her shoulder. “Have you seen the gardens? They’re lovely right now.”
Natalya stood and let Genevieve lead her away.
Chapter 67
Big Rock:
2369, May 17
The lawyer’s office on Margary felt small, the air stale. A floral scent wafted through moist air, tickling Natalya’s nose every so often and then disappearing when she tried to place it. She sat beside Zoya, offering whatever moral support she could. Konstantin sat on the other side of Zoya, Genevieve on the other side of him.
The lawyer, a youngish woman with green eyes and a pinched look, sat across the table waiting for the hour to tick over. She offered a small smile and an apology for the short wait. “Sorry, forms must be followed.”
When the clock ticked over, she looked at each of them in turn. “Konstantin Usoko, Zoya Usoko, Genevieve Pace, Natalya Regyri.”
Natalya felt a jolt at being named.
The lawyer looked up at her with a tiny smile before continuing. “We are gathered here for the reading of the final will and testament of Madoka Ashiko Usoko.” She rattled through the preamble in a mechanical voice that spoke volumes about the number of times she’d read the boilerplate paragraphs in the past. “To my dearest, Konstantin. There’s little sense for me to leave you credits. You already have more in your own name than you’ll ever be able to spend. You’ve devoted your entire life to making me happy, to stroking my ego and calming my piques. We’ve been everywhere we wanted to go, seen everything we’ve wanted to see. If there’s something you ever wanted and didn’t have, I don’t know what it might be. I fear all I have to leave you is a hole in your heart and a century of heartache, toil, and strife. I do have one final wish. I want you to honor your promise and step down from the company, retire to spend the time you have left finding something else to do. Know that I have loved you for a century and—if it’s still possible where I am now—love you still.”
The lawyer paused to slide a box of tissues across her desk.
Konstantin took one and wiped his eyes.
“To my son, Nikolai, I doubt that you’re at the reading. You never would accept anything from us after you left. You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that. You got that from your father and I respect it i
n him and in you. You’ve also done well. Wildcatting is a hard life and you’ve lived it. Yes, I followed your progress all these stanyers. I hope you find peace someday and can forgive yourself for Christine’s death. It was never your fault. I leave you a ten-million-credit repair balance in your name at the Manchester Yard’s Barge Division. Upgrade your ship. Live your life.”
The lawyer paused and looked around the room for a moment before continuing.
“To Genevieve Pace. Dear, dear Genevieve. Mother to many, heart of our home. Maker of cookies and brewer of tea. Bless you for all you’ve done for our family. You have a life of your own that you’ve frequently set aside to care for ours. To you I leave ten million credits.”
Genevieve gave a little cry. Natalya couldn’t tell whether it was joy, sorry, or just anguish.
The lawyer continued. “It’s not enough to repay you for your stanyers of dedication and even sacrifice. If that darling man is still waiting for you, please end his suffering. The company can hire another cook. It’ll never be the same, but that might be for the best.
“To Natalya Regyri. I cannot thank you enough. While it may seem odd given that we barely met, I have seen your influence in Zoya. I saw your influence each time she came home from the academy, even before I met you. You have shown her the rest of the Western Annex—perhaps the best of the Western Annex—in ways that I could not. You have helped her find her feet and clear her head. After meeting you in person and seeing first hand, I decided I needed to thank you in the only meaningful way I could. When this morbid ceremony ends, stay behind. Ms. Grimes has a package for you. It is yours to do with as you will. In addition I’ve made a wager with Ms. Grimes. I’ll let you ponder what it might be.
“Not last, Ms. Grimes has instructions for other small gifts and favors to charities, friends, employees, and so on that she will be distributing on my behalf over the next stanyer. I mention this to clear the deck for the rest.
“To my granddaughter, Zoya. Zvezda moya. My little rabbit is now a tiger. I kept the company as long as I could but now I must leave it to you. You’ll need to talk to Pietro to find out what it’s all worth now. He and Ms. Grimes will help you manage the paperwork involved. As far as the company goes, whatever was mine is now yours. The stock, the bank accounts. Inventory, equipment. My position as CEO. It’s all yours. That includes—as you well know—the duties and responsibilities of caring for over ten thousand employees. We built this company with their help. We owe them thanks and our continued support. Many think noblesse oblige is out of date, passé. Having seen the woman you’ve become, I know you’re not one of them. I know you’ll do whatever is necessary to continue our work, to support our people, and to leave the company improved when it comes time for you to pass it to the next generation. All my love.”
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