“Wow. Dothin would love...” Nix noticed Gan glowering at him and said, “Right, secret.”
Nix frowned as Gan put the artifact back into the box and sealed and locked it.
“Well?” Gan asked, trying to hide his apprehension.
Nix nodded. “Okay. I’ll hide it for you. Follow me.”
Gan followed Nix down the hall and into a bedroom. There was a bed, a dresser, a desk made to integrate with a link or tablet, a chair and a closet. The furniture all seemed well built and well cared for but simple in design, which was surprising for such large quarters. The walls were covered in garish graphics depicting men and women holding musical instruments, holding weapons, both standard and outlandish, and other things. Gan figured these graphics advertised sources of entertainment. Nix opened the side door, revealing a wide closet full of new but inexpensive clothes and pulled a few boxes out from the floor.
“Back when Dothin took me in I was...well, I was pretty doubtful about his generosity. I made myself a little hidey hole where I could keep things. I guess I was worried he wanted to steal things from me, I don’t know. I was pretty messed up back then. It should be big enough for your stasis cube.”
Gan smiled inwardly, thinking about the way he had treated Remnant after they first met. His first reactions were distrust, expecting an ulterior motive behind her kindness. This was followed by long, cathartic monologs, filling her ears with his experiences, how he reacted to them and what he thought about them now. Gan felt he could never be like Remnant for others, but he was heartened by the way the kid was opening up to him.
Nix pulled a small, thin crowbar from somewhere in the closet, stuck it between the floor and the side wall and then levered it, lifting the entire closet floorboard up with the motion. He pulled the board away, revealing an opening below. Much of the opening was filled with cabling, pipes and the like, but a small rectangle of space remained under there.
“He still doesn’t know about this.”
Gan handed the stasis box to Nix, and the boy placed it into the hole. It fit perfectly. “Wow, look at that.”
Gan nodded his approval. Nix put the floor back in place and set the boxes back on top of it.
“I’ve got to go...do something,” Gan said. “I’ll be back in an hour or two. Don’t even look at this closet while I’m gone, understand?”
Nix nodded, then shook his head, following Gan back out into the hallway and then the living room. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you that right now.”
“But I have a friend coming over any minute. If you show back up it’s going to cast suspicion.”
That was a good point. Gan placed his hand over the lock control for the front door. He was not surprised to find a feed coming off a security camera.
“I’ve tapped into your security feed. My suit will alert me when someone’s entered and exited. I’ll wait until you’re alone before I come back to get it.”
“You’re going to be awfully conspicuous waiting around my flat in that getup.”
Gan turned back to the kid and activated his active camouflage. He enjoyed watching Nix’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“Don’t worry.” Gan activated his mask to materialize, completing the disappearing act. “I’ll keep a low profile.”
When the effect was finished, Gan turned, left the apartment and hoped he hadn’t doomed Remnant’s mission.
Chapter Fifteen:
Where You Go
Ashla continued her gentle decent into Eltar’s atmosphere, all the while checking her scopes again to keep an eye on the squadron of air/orbital fighters that formed a sphere around her, or maybe a cage.
The leader of the squadron had identified himself as Commander Varr of the Antarii Starforce, told her his squadron were maneuvering into a protective formation around her, and asked her to let him know if she had any problems. Ashla had acknowledged with as few words as possible and wished she could get to the palace sooner.
She had given up calling Cel’s name and was now trying to pretend she was alone in the cockpit, which was less scary than sharing it with a corpse.
At long last the palace loomed ahead, glistening in the crimson evening sky, the tall cliff face it stood on enthroned it, giving it a sense of natural majesty. The palace had never looked more beautiful. The cliffs were cast in the crimson light of dusk and the landing bays inside glowed with white lights. Ashla didn’t need Luna’s guidance to know which one was hers.
“Ms. Vares, this is Commander Varr.”
“I read you, Commander.”
“We’re going to loosen our formation and pull away a bit, so you have room to land, but don’t worry. We’ll stay close until you land.”
“Thanks Commander. Vares out.” Ashla hated the distrustful tone in her voice but she couldn’t help but hear falsehood in the commander’s every word.
True to that word, though, the squadron of fighters loosened up. The one in front of her shed altitude before dropping back. The cage was now open. Ashla felt like pushing the throttle further but she was already going fast enough to feel the gees despite the inertial buffers.
A new channel opened with a familiar voice.
“Ms. Vares?”
“Captain Eldaghast?” Ashla nearly started crying.
“It’s me, Ms. Vares. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, but Cel isn’t responding. She was wounded by one of the assassins and I think she might be—”
“It’s okay, Ms. Vares. It’s okay. There’s a medical team standing by at your landing bay. Your father is there also. Do you need guidance into the bay?”
“No,” Ashla said. “I see it.”
“Your velocity is too high.” Captain Eldaghast’s voice had taken on a tone Ashla would have never expected. It was gentle, nothing like his usual commands. “You need to drop speed.”
“I don’t want to,” Ashla said. “Not till I’m closer.”
“Ms. Vares. You’re safe. Whoever attacked you on the station is nowhere near here. We have only our most vetted pilots in the air with you. All other air and orbital traffic in the AO is grounded or diverted. You need to slow down.”
“Okay.” Ashla pulled back on the throttle and Luna bled speed. The palace loomed large ahead. The landing bay was so close. She could see the medical team and their emergency vehicle on one side of the bay. A whole crowd of people stood around it. Ashla would make the tragic day worse if she flew into the landing bay at three hundred kilometers per hour.
“That’s it,” Captain Eldaghast said. “That’s it. Now create some more drag with your flaps and stabilizers.”
Ashla did it. She could feel Luna respond to the swift deceleration. She could make out individuals in the bay now. She dropped her landing gear, pulled the throttle to zero and coasted into the bay, held aloft by the inertials.
Luna lighted onto the decking and people surrounded the ship. Ashla dropped the canopy and extended the ladders, but the medical crew pulled close to Luna with a lift car and raised the carriage to her height.
“Ms. Vares,” one of the men in white called. Ashla ignored them. Her eyes went straight to the men in cyan uniforms and the familiar face behind them.
Ashla leapt from the cockpit. The landing bay filled with the gasps of dozens of people. Landing on her feet, she rushed to the Meritine guardsmen. Annister Vares pushed past them, opened his arms. “Ashla!”
“Daddy!”
Ashla leapt into her father’s arms. She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. They flowed freely, staining her father’s silk coat. They came with heaving, uncontrollable sobs and stilted attempts at communication.
After a moment of that, her father disengaged to look her over.
“Ashla, what happened?”
Ashla tried to control her breathing. She wiped her eyes with her ruined sleeve.
“We went to the ribbon cutting and there was an explosion but Cel pulled me away and then men attacked us
and they killed some of the officers and Cel led me away and there were more men in the hallway and Cel killed them and there was a Shaumri in the landing bay and he had killed the rest of the officers and Cel fought him and he cut her really bad and I think she’s dead!”
Father surrounded her in another hug, made gentle shushing noises. “Come on, let’s see.”
Ashla only fought him a little as he drew her back to Luna. Back to Cel. The medics were standing on Luna. A gurney sat on the lift. It took four of the men to lift Cel’s limp body from the cockpit. They were exchanging jargon that, to Ashla’s ears, might as well have been a series of grammatical articles. The medics lowered Cel to the gurney on the lift. Her face was pale, her expression slack. Her uniform was cut, ripped and singed here and there. She was covered in blood. Ashla knew some of it was the blood of the men Cel had killed with her sword, but not all.
“Is she alive?” Father asked. What a stupid question, Ashla thought. Of course she was dead. She looked like a corpse. Ashla squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the lifeless visage anymore.
“Yes, governor, barely.”
Ashla gasped. She looked to father who smiled at her.
“She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’ll be okay.”
Annister sighed. Ashla hugged him again. The medics stepped onto the lift car and it lowered back down. Then the little cart backed and rounded towards the medical evac shuttle. The men in white lifted Cel’s gurney into the ship.
“I want the best of care for her and regular updates,” her father said. “That woman saved my daughter’s life.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ashla held her father as she watched the medivac shuttle take off and leave her sight. They weren’t going far. The palace hospital was accessible via lifts and roads, but the shuttle would get Cel to the care she needed faster. Once the shuttle was well out of sight, she let her father turn her towards the remaining crowd of people. These were Meritine guardsmen, palace staff, councilors and secretaries.
They smiled, some cheered and those closest called to her. “Welcome home, Ms. Vares,” and “So glad you’re safe Ms. Vares,” and others. No one tried to formalize the event. No one took pictures or shook hands. There were no giant scissors. Instead the crowd made room so Father could walk Ashla home.
The next morning Ashla woke up in her own bed and never felt so thankful to be home. She checked the time on her link, expecting her planner to be full but instead found her schedule had been cleared. The post-ribbon-cutting interview was cancelled, her flight lessons with Captain Eldaghast had been postponed for the day and she received message after message from her personal tutors stating they were so glad that she was safe and unharmed, and they wanted her to take the day off to rest.
Then she noticed the message from father.
Good morning, sweetheart. In the aftermath of the attack yesterday my day is full of press conferences and interviews, but I’ve carved out an hour to have lunch with you and another for dinner. I’ve also asked your teachers to postpone your classes and cleared your schedule today, so you can rest.
I love you!
Dad
Ashla smiled at this, put her link down on the bedside table, rolled over and went back to sleep.
Sleep didn’t last long, though. Her routine habits were too strong, so she found herself up, bathed and dressed by eight thirty.
When she opened the door to the wide hallway outside her suite, she noticed a woman in a cyan uniform sitting on a chair opposite her door. For a second the woman was Cel, then Ashla shook her head and the illusion faded. This woman had short, brown hair. Her skin was olive and her dark eyes held a signature epicanthal fold. She stood and bowed.
“Good morning, Ms. Vares.”
“Good morning.”
“My name is Lita Tarquin. As you’ve already guessed I’m a Meritine officer but I’m also a licensed counselor. Governor Vares thought you might want someone around that you can talk to about your experiences yesterday.”
“You mean the experience of a small army of assassins trying to murder me?”
Officer Tarquin gave a sympathetic smile. “I do.”
Ashla shook her head.
“Thanks, Officer Tarquin, but I’d rather be left alone if it’s all the same to you.”
“Well, in light of the attack yesterday, your father has ordered that someone stay close to you at all times.”
Ashla’s shoulders sagged. “Even in the palace?”
“I’m afraid so, Ms. Vares.”
Ashla huffed. “Fine.” She turned down the corridor and headed for the dining room, trying to ignore her new shadow. As she walked she pulled out her link and ordered breakfast. She was surprised when the cook on the other end didn’t object to her request for pork sausage with her pancakes. Her lessons weren’t the only thing her father had suspended.
“Would you like anything else, Ms. Vares?”
“Hmm,” Ashla thought. She turned to the officer, trailing a few meters behind her. “Are you hungry?”
Tarquin smiled. “No thank you, Ms. Vares.”
Ashla looked back at the screen. “Yeah, that will be all. Thanks!” She cut the connection.
Once she reached the private dining room she usually shared with her father, Officer Tarquin caught up.
“Excuse me, Ms. Vares.” She opened the door, and entered the dining room first, one hand on her sidearm. She nodded. “Okay, all clear. Would you like me to wait outside while you eat?”
Ashla frowned. “Um, no. As long as you don’t try to psychoanalyze me or something.”
Officer Tarquin smiled. “The only thing I’ll be analyzing today is your security. Other than that, I’m here to listen and give counsel but only when asked.”
“Okay,” Ashla said. “You don’t have to sit outside, then, if you don’t want to.”
Ashla took a seat at the glossy, wooden table. Officer Tarquin took a seat next to her. They sat in uncomfortable silence. Ashla spent the silence looking at her link.
Her father had CCed her on several messages from the palace’s medical team. She swiped down to the latest message and read it.
“Good news?” Office Tarquin asked. Ashla looked up at her surprised to be blinking back tears.
Ashla nodded. She read the message out loud. “I am happy to report that, despite prior complications due to...words I don’t understand, Officer Numbar is recovering comfortably. It’s still too early to suggest any certain prognosis, but I would guess Office Numbar will be ready to return to active duty pending further rest and examination and with little more intervention than a few weeks of physical therapy.”
“That is good news.”
Ashla nodded and wiped a tear from her eye.
Just then the doors slid open and what seemed like the entire palace’s kitchen staff bundled into the room. The first of these set down a tray with her breakfast on it, plus decanters of ice-cold milk, juice and water. But then came Rifa, the palace’s head cook, a rotund woman with wrinkly, tanned skin, dark curly hair and an eternal smile on her wide lips.
She came in with a cake platter.
“Ms. Vares,” she said. Her voice was always so flat but also so full of joy and kindness. “On behalf of the whole kitchen staff, we wanted to welcome you home and let you know how happy we are to have you back safe and sound. And to help you celebrate, we made you this.”
She lifted the top, revealing a huge, double-layer chocolate cake. Ashla’s eyes widened.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you!”
After cutting the cake followed by a spontaneous ovation, Ashla invited the staff to eat with her and refused to take no for an answer, especially since Officer Tarquin didn’t protest. Ashla wolfed down a few bites of her actual breakfast and then took a huge slice of the chocolate cake.
The dining room was big enough for ten to sit comfortably and a dozen more to stand about but it rarely held more than two or three. Today the room was filled with cooks and wait
staff, Ashla and Officer Tarquin, all eating cake and drinking coffee or cold milk, talking and laughing. Other staff members and officers passed by, noticed the goings on and took the opportunity to congratulate Ashla for her safe return. Ashla invited them to have a slice of cake as well.
When everyone had their cake and the passersby moved on and the waitstaff was now filing out, giving Ashla their last greetings, one slice of chocolate cake remained.
“Oh, Ms. Vares!” cried Rifa. “We’ve eaten all your cake! How about you finish this piece and we’ll go work you up another?”
“Oh no,” Ashla said, waving them off. “I’ve had my fill. But, can you put that in a container, so I can take it to Officer Numbar?”
Rifa gasped as if what Ashla said was an inspired prophet’s proverb. “Oh! Of course! How is she doing by the way?”
“She’s going to be okay, but I think she needs a hearty dose of chocolate cake STAT!”
Ashla, her shadow in tow once more, now picked her way through the palace’s hospital. It wasn’t quite the size of the hospital she was supposed to help open on the station, but it was still quite large due to the population of the palace town.
Following the directions messaged to her by the doctor in charge of Cel’s care, Ashla walked down the sterile white halls. The walls and ceilings were a contiguous screen displaying the late morning sky above the palace.
At last she came to the room, stopped, and turned.
“Would you mind if I go in alone?”
Officer Tarquin shook her head. “Of course not. I’ll keep an eye on things from the nurse’s station, but I’ll give you as much privacy as I can.”
Ashla nodded. “Thanks.” She turned again and entered the door.
Ashla’s experience with this or any medical facility was limited. Due to her father’s position and the perquisites it afforded, doctors came to Ashla unless they needed to do some kind of test or procedure requiring heavy equipment. Considering the diet, exercise regimen and the chemistry afforded by a wealthy governor she rarely got so much as a sniffle.
All of this served to increase the intimidation she felt here. This place was alien and strange. It wasn’t pretty or colorful, like the palace. This place was different than anything else she was used to, and that different-ness was eerie.
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