by Robyn Bachar
“Hello, gorgeous.” She caressed the controls.
“Hi, boss.” Ryder dropped into the copilot’s chair and strapped in. “Oh, did you mean the ship?”
“You’re both spectacular.” Jiang grinned. “She’s definitely an upgrade from the shuttle of eternal stench. How’s our guest?”
“Strapped down and sedated. Why are we taking her?”
Alarms and threats from traffic control screeched over the comm, and she silenced it with a slap of a switch. “I’ll explain later.”
Security personnel poured into the hangar bay and opened fire on the ship as Jiang punched the throttle. The ship roared into the air, and the engine’s shockwave scattered the troops like leaves. Ryder whooped in victory as they powered away from the colony and up into the atmosphere, but that joy was short lived as they emerged into space. An enormous warship orbited the planet, one of the heavy hitters designed to obliterate a target from orbit. Jiang cursed.
“You can outrun it, right?” Ryder asked.
Jiang licked her lips. In theory anything was possible, but the hulking dreadnaught had their ship outgunned a hundred to one. They were faster, but the warship had a longer targeting range. She tried to remember everything she knew about Soviet warships, and then she blinked.
Soviet ships.
“Thank the powers for Soviet ship design,” she muttered. She straightened and cleared her throat. “Chief, I need you to steer.”
“I’m not a pilot, boss.”
“I don’t need you to do barrel rolls, I just need you to keep her steady while I do something clever.”
“Okay, sure. Still only got one hand here though.”
“You only need one to please her,” Jiang assured him.
Ryder laughed and hesitantly reached for the flight controls. “Right.”
The ship shimmied for a moment as he adjusted, but then she stabilized. Jiang turned her attention to the communications console on her left. A few lines of code should do it—something simple that wouldn’t raise an alarm. They wouldn’t identify what she’d done until after they escaped into hyperspace.
Her fingers danced over the screen as she inputted lines of code, and then she bundled the data and set it to upload to every ship in the system in one rapid burst.
Jiang hit Send and then turned back to the flight controls. “Here we go.”
“What’d you do, initiate their self-destruct sequence?” he asked.
“You’ve watched too many vids, Chief. There isn’t a big red button that scuttles Soviet ships.”
“No such thing as too many vids,” he argued. “That’s culture.”
Jiang snorted as she peered at the hyperdrive’s progress—seventy-five percent, not bad at all. Maybe Captain Nyota would let her keep this ship after they disabled all the spyware and tracking devices buried in it.
The warship surged toward them and closed to firing range, but the little ship sailed past, unharmed. Jiang grinned. “Damn, I’m good.”
“How’d you do that?” Ryder asked.
“Soviet engineering. Everything is over-automated, including the targeting systems. The ship designers didn’t trust the pilots not to shoot their squadron mates down with friendly fire, so they programmed the weapons not to engage if a friendly target was in the line of fire. I just locked it in before they could disable that feature.”
Ryder grinned. “You’re amazing.”
“Why thank you, Chief. But we’re not out of the woods yet. We have to get past the border ships, and they’re undoing my work as we speak.”
“Right. We’ve got six ships incoming,” Ryder said. “You fly, I’ll keep an eye on the hyperdrive.”
“Affirmative.” Jiang gunned the engines. The patrol ships were fast, and their designs were comparable to the one they’d stolen. It was going to be a tough fight. She shunted power from the engines and weapons to the shields—they weren’t going to outrun or outgun their attackers, so they needed to withstand a few hits.
“Hang on, this is gonna hurt,” she said.
The lead ship closed into range and fired, but the shields took the brunt of the damage.
“Eighty percent,” Ryder said.
Jiang’s jaw clenched. The drive’s spin-up had slowed, probably due to the power drain caused by the shield boost. Shit. She needed an engineer to compensate. Where was Chief Watson when she needed her?
The second ship closed and fired, and Jiang was forced to pull some clever maneuvers to twist out of the way. Even her best maneuvers wouldn’t be enough to evade six attackers in open space, and she changed direction and charged back toward the warship.
“Boss?”
“Percentage?” she asked.
“Eighty-seven,” Ryder said. “What are you doing?
“Playing chicken with the Soviet navy.”
“Can’t they hit us if they undid your hack?”
“Yes. But they’ll take out that patrol with us if they do.”
“And that’s...good?”
“Depends on how you feel about going out in a blaze of glory.”
“Is that a reference to Earther culture?”
“Maybe. But only because you listen to it when you lift.”
Ryder launched into a loud and slightly off-key rendition of the song’s chorus, demanding that he be referred to as a “young gun,” and Jiang cut the power to the forward shields and shifted it aft. It was a gamble—she was daring the warship to take a shot at her and risk destroying the patrol group hot on her tail.
Well hell, if she was going to gamble...
Jiang cut the shields entirely and split the power between the engines and the hyperdrive.
“Ninety-two percent. I really don’t want to be the bug on that ship’s windshield.”
Jiang squared her shoulders. “Me either. A wise man once said that the hard part of playing chicken is knowing when to flinch. If the Party wants me as bad as Valentin said they did, the warship will flinch first.”
Or at least she hoped they would. With the shield down the warship could obliterate them before the hyperdrive was fully powered. She maintained her course and accelerated straight at the warship. Its weapons flashed and Jiang tensed as a blast of energy zinged so close to the ship she swore it left a scorch mark on the hull.
Two of their pursuers exploded, and Jiang grinned in relief. That almost went horribly wrong. She glanced at the hyperdrive’s readout and watched the last few percentages tick by—ninety-seven, ninety-eight, niney-nine...
The warship powered up again, but their engines hit one hundred and Jiang activated the hyperdrive. The acceleration threw her back and squashed her against the pilot’s chair, and the looming warship was replaced with the familiar sight of hyperspace.
She exhaled a shaky breath. They were safe. And alive.
“Let’s never do that again,” Ryder said.
“Agreed. Come on, Chief. Let’s raid the med kits for painkillers.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jiang pulled her knees to her chest. The environmental controls were locked into a “cold is cheap” setting, and she hadn’t figured out how to adjust them.
“You’re freezing. Come here.” Ryder patted the space next to him on the bunk. “I promise to behave.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” She smiled, but the expression was weak, almost watery. Everything was catching up with her now that they were safe. She didn’t have time to ponder the circumstances of her new life when they were escaping from New Leningrad, but now with the quiet of a few days’ journey there was nothing but time to contemplate.
Jiang joined Ryder and curled against him, instantly comfortable at the perfect fit.
“You’re flirting,” he said. “Does that mean we’re on again, or is that just a side eff
ect of the new you?”
It was a fair question. “All of the above? I can confirm that I’ve never had anything resembling a romantic relationship before, so it’s going to take some time for me to figure out what I want.”
“That’s fair.”
“Besides, we still haven’t managed that date, and we’re not exactly in shape for it now. We both need to be cleared by a med tech before any sexual aerobics. You’ve got at least two broken ribs.”
“Three, but who’s counting.” Ryder stroked her hair as she gently pillowed her head on his chest. She’d never been so reassured to hear someone’s heartbeat in her life. Jiang shivered—they would have killed him. She would have killed him if their attempt to delete her memory hadn’t failed.
“For what it’s worth, you were right about the damsel thing,” he said. “But you were wrong about that being the reason why I’m interested in you. Sure it was one reason, but there are a million other ones.”
“A million? Damn, I’m good.”
Ryder chuckled. “Yes, you are. But you’ve got a lot on your mind right now. Talk it out, boss. You’ll feel better.”
“Not sure about better. Maybe less frazzled.” She sighed, then propped herself up so she could meet his gaze as she tried to explain. “I was sort of a blank slate to begin with. The Party scoops up street kids to send them to the colonies, and I was eight years old when they grabbed me. Practically feral. Didn’t even know my own name, so they gave me one. Xiaoling Kwan.”
“Do you want me to call you Xiaoling?” he asked.
“No. Being Xiaoling was just my first cover. I tested into the KGB’s agent development program because I had the right combination of guts, brains and sociopathic tendencies. I learned how to pretend to be a good person, but I was barely human. They made me a living weapon.”
“You’re not a sociopath.”
“Not now, no. Or at least not completely anymore. When I volunteered for the implant experiment I knew I might die, but I did it anyway. Maybe I wanted to die. I didn’t have much to live for, other than duty.”
“Is that why you kidnapped Helen?”
Jiang frowned. “I didn’t kidnap her. I...forcibly encouraged her to defect.”
“Uh-huh.”
“She’s fifteen. Fifteen years old, and if she’s done half of the things I did in the program at that age then she’s had a rough life. It isn’t right.” Jiang scowled down at him. “The KGB offered me food and a roof and expected me to kill in exchange. No one should be forced to make that kind of decision, especially not a kid. She won’t thank me for bringing her with us, but I couldn’t leave her there. The old me would’ve put a bullet to her and thought it a kindness, but now I know that Helen deserves the chance at a real life.”
“And you’re going to take care of her?”
“Hell, no.” Jiang snorted. “I don’t know shit about parenting, and Helen won’t listen to me. I did this to her, so I’m the enemy. But I think Sveta would be perfect to help her. They’re both victims of the Soviet machine.”
Ryder nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
She lay down and sighed. “It’s strange. I’ve never remembered a cover since I got the implant, but I remember everything that I did as Jiang. As me. I’m her. In the memories, I mean. There isn’t a sense of playing a role like I did before the implant. I did those things, I lived them. It’s a Chapter of my life, instead of a mission.”
“How do you feel about that?” Ryder rubbed her back, and she snuggled closer. He really was an enormous cuddle bear.
“Odd. I never had anything like that. A home, a family. Not even people to mourn, even if they were fictional. It’s kind of funny. I spent the past few years wrapped up in grieving for the things I thought I’d lost, feeling disconnected, but all the while I was putting down roots. I have people who need me. I’m going to be a bridesmaid, you know.”
Ryder nodded. “Me, too. Well, a bride’s man, or so I’m told. I’m not sure how the dress will look on me.”
“Everything looks good on you, Kalani.”
“You look good on me.” He waggled his eyebrow suggestively, and she laughed.
“I guess I do. I want to see where this goes between us, but for now get some rest, Chief. We both need a solid eight hours.”
“And after that?”
“We both need time to adjust. And after we get home we can finally have that date, and see what happens.”
“Good plan. Though I’ll warn you now, if you start snoring, I’m going to kick you out of my bunk. Boss or no boss, I need my beauty sleep.”
“Brat.”
Ryder grinned. “Never thought I’d be so glad to hear you say that.”
Chapter Fifteen
It was easy to settle into routine aboard the Mombasa, under the scowling scrutiny of Tomas Nyota. Almost as though she had never left, or if Xiaoling had never existed. Maybe she hadn’t—contemplating her previous life over the past few days had brought her to the conclusion that Xiaoling had barely lived. Exist was the right was to describe it, and that feeling was only confirmed by her conversations with Helen, such as they were. Cadet Stein might just be the angriest teenager in history. Luckily Sveta seemed to take that as a challenge, and Jiang wished her luck.
“Well, Doc? What’s your verdict?” Jiang asked.
“Undetermined.” Tomas stepped back and leaned against the diagnostic bed behind him. The med bay was empty of patients at the moment, and the quiet was strangely off-putting. “They definitely poked around in your brain. I see some changes to the implant, but I don’t know enough about it to say if it was repaired, or to what degree. I’ve been comparing it to the scans I’ve taken of Gabriel’s implant, and the designs are different.”
“They would be. His is a simpler model.”
Tomas smirked. “Please, feel free to tell him he’s simple.”
“And get shot by the captain? No thanks.”
“She wouldn’t shoot you. Not before the wedding, at least.”
“Comforting.”
Tomas looked drained, as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. Maybe he hadn’t—good night’s sleep had been in short supply since they discovered Sveta aboard the Novosibirsk.
“Not sure I can offer comfort,” he said. “The stuff you’ve described is way off the scale of my weird-shit-o’meter. Removing memories? Implanting personalities? That’s like a cheesy spy vid.”
She quirked a brow. “Should I invest in a leather catsuit?”
“I thought you said you didn’t watch old Earth vids.”
“Maybe one or two in spy school.”
Tomas rolled his eyes. “Funny. I’m not sure I know how to deal with a funny Jiang.”
“I was always funny. I just saved my best material for the captain.” And Ryder, she added silently. Ryder brought out her sense of humor, and that was amazing in itself.
“Good to know. For now, if anything changes with your mood, if you experience any headaches or nausea, or any other changes, let me know immediately. It’s never good when mad scientists poke around your brain.”
“You know this from experience?” she asked.
“No, from old Earth vids. Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
Tomas sobered and straightened. “Be careful with Ryder. He’s so focused on protecting everyone else that he’s shit at protecting himself.”
“And you think he needs protection from me?”
“That depends on your intentions.” Tomas waved her away. “Now get out of here. I need to take your data into the lion’s den. Maria thinks she’s a biomedical specialist now.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard lately. Wish me luck.”
“Bring a peace offering,” she suggested. “C
offee usually works.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I’m not arming her with a hot beverage to throw in my face.”
Jiang retreated to her quarters and frowned at the stark confines. It needed more—souvenirs, photos, life and color. She’d denied herself those things for so long during her enforced mourning.
Was Tomas right? Did Ryder really need protection from her? Jiang frowned as she flopped down on her bunk. She’d snapped on Ryder after their lovemaking—her frown deepened at the word. Lovemaking. She’d had plenty of sex as Xiaoling, but never anything that could be defined as making love. She didn’t know a damn thing about love. Or dating. Or relationships. Marriage. Parenthood.
Shit.
What if he wanted to settle down? What could she do for a living if not this? What if he decided that this new, “improved” Jiang wasn’t the woman he wanted. She was disgusted by the things she’d done, and she assumed his reaction would be similar if he knew the breadth and depth of her crimes. Xiaoling Kwan was a villain.
What was worse was that she wasn’t even sure that she wanted to settle down. Jiang had spent the past eight years mourning for the loss of an idyllic family life that turned out to be a fiction. Did she even want that kind of life?
She grabbed her pillow, pulled it over her head and hid from the light of her quarters and the uncertainties that buzzed inside her skull like a nest of angry hornets.
* * *
Captain Nyota whistled sharply and called the meeting to order. “Hey! Everyone, focus.”
“I’d focus better with a drink,” one of the pirates said from the back of the room.
“You won’t enjoy that drink if I cut out your tongue,” Stryker said. Ryder doubted that she was serious but the room was instantly silent. Huh. Maybe she kept a collection of pirate tongues nailed to the wall in her office.
