by Jaleta Clegg
That didn't mean I wasn't nervous. He leaned towards me. I knew he was going to kiss me. I told my pounding heart and my sweating hands that I wanted him to kiss me. And I would have let him, if he hadn't accidentally bumped my side.
The pain was intense. I curled away from him, breathing hard and trying not to groan. He backed away immediately.
"Dace, I'm so sorry," he said. "Do you need anything?"
I shook my head. I breathed slowly until the fire faded to a dull aching.
"You sure you don't want something?"
"Water would be good." I didn't want him tripping over himself with guilt for the rest of the day. "It's just tender. Really, Vance, it's almost healed.
He didn't look like he believed me. He handed me a glass of water. He still looked upset and worried.
"It's fine." I sipped the water. "The grafts and treatments didn't work very well, so it's tender. I'm fine, Vance."
He sat back on the couch next to me. "Does it hurt anywhere else?"
"Not really, just my side."
"Then if I'm careful—" He leaned towards me again. "Unless you mind, Dace." He stopped, searching my face.
The hatch cycled open. Vance sat away from me, pretending nothing had been about to happen. I wasn't nearly as good at acting as he was. I sipped the water and tried to calm myself. I still found myself with sweaty hands and shaky breathing.
"That was fast," Vance said.
Max rounded the end of the couch and dropped on the arm with a dramatic sigh. "They found us. We have two days to be at your father's party or we face the ultimate punishment."
Vance stiffened.
"Yes," Max said, nodding at Vance. "We will both be expected to dance with Margarethe and all of her friends at every party for the next year."
Vance groaned. I didn't know if I was supposed to laugh or not.
"We have to leave," Max said. "Immediately. Sorry, Dace, no time to shop."
"Not that I wanted to," I said.
"Amazing," Max said, raising his eyebrows to comical levels. "A female who doesn't shop. Absolutely unheard of."
"Dace isn't like other women in a lot of ways. Good ways, of course," Vance added hastily, glancing uncertainly at me.
"That's fairly obvious," Max said. "She likes Dariana Grace. She has good taste."
"That is debatable." Vance stood. "Shouldn't we be undocking?"
"They gave me fifteen minutes," Max said, "which gives us another eight and a half minutes to defy them. Although if we're late, they'll march over here and haul us back like a couple of runaway children. Too humiliating."
I trailed Vance to the cockpit, leaning in the doorway, watching him do a quick preflight. I wanted to fly the ship so bad I could taste it.
"Stupid social season," Max muttered as he stabbed buttons.
Vance glanced over his shoulder at me. What I was feeling must have been obvious on my face. Vance paused in his course calculations and nudged Max.
"What?" Max said. "Have you thought of a way to get us out of going to your father's party?"
"No, but I'm getting a few ideas about the party." Vance grinned in a way that made me very nervous.
"You want us in deeper trouble?"
"I'll tell you later. Right now, I think Dace wants to fly your ship."
"It isn't technically mine," Max said, but in a way that made me think it was an automatic answer. They both looked at me. "In my experience, admirals don't know how to do anything useful, like flying. But you know, I've almost forgotten you're an admiral. You don't act anything like one."
"To quote her," Vance said, "she's a very good pilot." He grinned wickedly at me. "And a decent engineer."
"How did you ever get made an admiral?" Max stood from the pilot's chair and gently shoved me into it.
"It's complicated," I said, evading his question.
I ran my hands over the controls, familiarizing myself with them. It felt good to be in front of a ship's controls, any ship. I would have happily flown an ore freighter.
"Permission to undock," Vance said. He had an earpiece and was talking to station control.
Lights came on automatically on my board. The connections to the station retracted with a series of muffled thumps. The station and ship coordinated undocking without any input from me. The ship was pushed free. We started to drift away from the station. The engines came on, warming up slowly. The thrust was minimal. The ship veered away, on a course dictated by the station computer. I got to push one button during the entire procedure. It wasn't what I wanted.
We were mostly clear of the station traffic when I flipped the ship over to manual control. An alarm beeped insistently. I shut it up by pushing the override button.
"What are you doing?" Max asked curiously.
"Better grab something and hang on," Vance said.
I barely heard them. I was flying again. I pushed the engines. The ship leapt forward. I sent it on a spinning roll for the sheer joy of it.
Max swore as he scrambled for an emergency handhold. Vance chuckled and continued to program our course. I had no idea where we were going and right then I didn't care. I was flying.
I looped and spun and sent the ship on a soaring path towards the stars. The engine purred, responding to my slightest touch. Even with simplified controls, the ship was not some underpowered toy. I shoved the throttle all the way forward. I felt the power vibrating through the ship as it answered me. I sent it on another looping, spinning run before straightening out on our course vector.
"Jump point," Vance said.
The ship took over the controls again, sliding us through the jump point and shutting down the sublight engines. I sat back in the chair. I had a grin that spread halfway around my head. My side hurt, but I didn't care.
"Are you insane?" Max demanded behind me. "What kind of crazy stunt were you trying to pull?"
"Trying?" Vance said. "I think she succeeded."
"In getting me banned for life from Piy'Luin. You've just given me a reputation for being a reckless and irresponsible pilot." Max glared down at me.
"I was within our course heading the whole time," I said. "They can't technically charge you with anything."
"But they can complain."
"You have to admit that was good flying." Vance's grin was almost as wide as mine.
"I had no idea this old bucket could do that," Max admitted.
"And it was fun," Vance said.
"Daredevil," Max muttered at me.
"And, Max," Vance added as he got out of his chair, "you know perfectly well that they wouldn't dare ban you from Piy'Luin."
Max shrugged. "Who wants to watch another vid?"
Vance shook his head. "I'm going to sleep."
Max watched his retreating back until the door to the cabin shut. He turned back to me. "There's a really good one you haven't seen yet. Dariana plays an undercover operative for the Patrol."
My grin went stiff. I didn't want to watch a vid about my life, even if it wasn't really.
"Don't worry," Max said, "it's nothing like the real thing. Vance told me a bit about you. He was supposed to be the ambassador to the Sessimoniss but something went wrong, didn't it? And you were involved."
"And I'm not supposed to talk about it," I said flatly. "Not to mention I don't want to talk about it."
"Then I'm not asking. I'm watching the vid. You're welcome to join me."
He left the cockpit and rummaged in the galley.
I leaned back in the pilots chair. There were a few things bothering me. Who, exactly, were Vance and Max? I trusted them, I even liked them. But there were pieces that didn't fit. They weren't Patrol, although both had been to the Academy. They also weren't part of the normal crowd of transient spacers, Gypsies, traders, and others that I knew. They were a completely different class.
I had no idea who they really were. I decided I didn't care.
Chapter 6
"Hail the ship and all that." The voice was nasal, high pitched, bu
t mostly cheerful.
Jasyn leaned around the edge of the hatch, wiping her hands on a towel. The sink in the galley was still half full of dishes. "Leon," she said and smiled. "Come in."
Leon Gravis, lawyer extraordinaire, sauntered into the ship. His hands were shoved into pockets in his lime green and yellow striped suit. He looked around the lounge area of the Phoenix Rising and whistled.
"You've done remodeling since I was here last," he said. "If I remember right, you were just tearing out walls then."
Clark, Jasyn's husband, lay on a padded bench in an alcove at the back of the ship. A baby was sprawled across his chest, fast asleep. Night black hair framed a chubby face.
"We needed the room." Clark eased the sleeping child onto the bench then slid out from under him. "Since we don't haul much cargo anymore, we figured cabin space was more important."
"So how's Louie doing?" Leon asked, nodding at the child.
"Fine," Jasyn said impatiently. She kept glancing out the open hatch as if expecting someone else to appear. "Leon, I thought we were paying you to find Dace and bring her back."
"True," Leon said, nodding agreeably.
"Well? Where is she?" Jasyn leaned against the galley counter and folded her arms across her chest.
"That," Leon said, "is a long story. Mind if I sit?"
Jasyn turned to the cabinets and banged mugs around. Clark ran a hand through his tousled hair. He was barefoot and looked rumpled.
"I suggest you just tell her the story," Clark said to Leon. "It better be good, too, or she might hurt you. And this time I won't try to stop her."
"Point taken," Leon said. He sat at the table and rubbed his chin with one hand. His smile faded, making him look a decade older. "Where are the rest of them?"
"Beryn and Twyla took Ginni into the port to do some shopping. I think Finn went with them. They won't be back for a while." Clark sat at the end of the table. A muffled clank came from the engine compartment. "And Darus is down there, dismantling the water recycler."
"Maybe he should hear this," Leon suggested.
"And maybe he shouldn't yet," Clark said.
Jasyn slammed three mugs on the table. Juice slopped out of one. A plate of cookies followed the mugs. One cookie slid off the side of the plate. Leon picked it up and held it. He made no move to eat it. Jasyn stared at him, reading the emotions on his face. She sighed heavily and sat.
"How bad is it, Leon?" Jasyn asked.
"From what Paltronis told me, pretty bad." Leon put the cookie carefully back on the table. "Lowell sent her to Tivor to salvage what she could of the situation. It was hopeless."
He fell silent, staring down at the table top. Jasyn and Clark exchanged glances. This was not the Leon they knew. He was never this grim.
"Clark?" Darus climbed up the steep steps from the engine room. He had a greasy part clutched in his hands. "The valve is gummed up past the point I can fix it." He stopped dead at the sight of Leon. He very slowly and carefully set the broken valve on the floor. He crossed to the table. He stood over Leon, his hands flexing open and closed. He stared at the top of Leon's balding head. "Dace?" he asked, the simple sound of her name question enough.
"She's in the Patrol hospital on Besht," Leon said. "They assured me she'd pull through. Eventually."
Darus collapsed into a chair. "I should have shot Lowell when I had the chance."
"I think all of us would like to do that," Clark said.
Jasyn reached across the table and took Darus' hand.
"Tell us what happened," Clark said, "from clear back when Lowell sent her off to Serrimonia."
"I only know what Paltronis told me," Leon answered. "And she only knows the story from the reports Dace gave. She wasn't there for most of it."
Louie whimpered in his sleep. Jasyn and Clark both glanced over at him. He shifted his head to one side and went back to sleep.
"Lowell really only meant for her to be gone a couple of weeks."
"It's been over a year," Jasyn said.
"She and the agent Lowell sent with her, I forget his name, they were shot down. They crashed and had to find a way to convince the Sessimoniss to let them go. And find a way off the planet and all the rest. Apparently the Sessimoniss were under attack. I don't know details, Paltronis claimed it was classified. But she did tell me that the people doing the attacking were related to the ones you ran into on Vallius." Leon picked up a mug and sipped.
Jasyn swore, quietly. Darus went white. He'd been trapped on Vallius for twelve years, held as a slave. Jasyn and Clark had only been there a couple of weeks. Dace was the only reason any of them had left.
"They caught Dace and the agent," Leon continued. "They took both of them as slaves. Dace managed to steal one of their ships and escape. There was some kind of civil war going on. She came back into the Empire flying one of the ghost ships and shocked everyone. Paltronis told me that Lowell thought she was dead."
"He's lucky she wasn't," Jasyn muttered.
"We heard she was on Tivor," Darus said. "What happened, Leon? We also heard she was an admiral. What was Lowell thinking?"
Leon shook his head. "Paltronis said Lowell refused to send Dace on the rescue mission. He said it was a Patrol operation. She wasn't Patrol, not then. But Tayvis was on Trythia. Paltronis said Dace was right in insisting on going. Lowell wouldn't let her go. Paltronis finagled her enlistment as an admiral. Lowell had no choice but to let her go back."
Leon paused to drink again. Jasyn and Darus watched him intently, impatient for his story.
"There was a foul up in the rescue. Paltronis said the fighting was fierce. She lost track of Dace, she didn't show up at the meeting place. There was an army of the Trythians waiting to ambush them. They found Dace and pulled her out, but Tayvis was killed in the fighting."
"That would destroy her," Darus said.
"That's why Lowell sent her to Tivor, partly," Leon continued. "He said he had no choice about it. Not at the time. And she was in the Patrol."
"And now?" Jasyn asked.
"Medical discharge," Leon said. "The paperwork should clear within a week."
"So we set course to Besht to pick her up," Jasyn said.
"Besht has strict laws against murder, or even torture," Clark told her. "For your sake, I hope Lowell isn't there."
"She belongs here, Trevyn, and you know it," Jasyn said sharply to her husband.
"I agree completely with you," Clark said.
"She loved him," Darus said. No one needed to ask who he was talking about. "I was stupid to be jealous of him. I liked him." He rubbed his face with his hands. "We heard the rumor that Tayvis was dead, but I didn't want to believe it."
"He's not. Miscommunication on Trythia is the explanation Lowell gave me," Leon said. He waited until they were looking at him again. "Lowell sent her to Tivor to start a war. The only problem was, the war was already starting without her. Paltronis and Scholar went there to get her out in one piece."
"You said she's in a hospital," Clark said. "What happened?"
Leon shook his head. "That's the part Paltronis refused to talk about. She told me the Hrissia'noru were mixed up in it. Dace isn't the same person she was. If and when she wakes up, they might be able to tell how extensive the neural damage is. She was shot, point blank, with a blaster. It's a wonder she's still alive at all."
"She always was too stubborn for her own good," Clark said.
"A blaster doesn't cause neural damage," Darus said. "What are you not telling us, Leon?"
Leon eyed Darus warily, but it was Clark who answered. "You weren't with us then. You didn't see what they did to her."
"Who?" Darus asked.
"The Hrissia'noru," Jasyn replied. "Lowell's one of them. And so is your daughter."
Darus looked even more confused. "I've never heard of them."
"They don't matter anymore," Leon said. "They bought a colony ship and left. They said something about Dace making her choice when they gave her back."
> "Who are they and why do they matter at all?" Darus asked.
"Dace scored a zero on all psychic evaluations," Leon said. "It wasn't because she had no latent abilities, it was because she had a strong natural shield. She didn't have conscious control over it until the Hrissia'noru broke through. Paltronis wouldn't tell me any more about it, she only said I didn't want to know what happened. I felt her, though, from miles away. It was like nothing I've ever experienced."
They sat in silence for a long moment. Jasyn stood up suddenly, headed for the cockpit.
"Where are you going?" Clark asked.
"To set a course for Besht. We're leaving. Now."
"Shouldn't we wait for the others to come back?" Clark asked.
"They'd better hurry," Jasyn said flatly. She dropped into the navigator's chair and flipped on the com. "This is the Phoenix Rising requesting a liftoff window."
"I think she's serious about it," Leon said.
"You coming with us?" Clark asked Leon.
"Give me an hour to close up shop here," Leon answered.
"I'll give you as long as Jasyn will let me," Clark answered. He headed for the cockpit and the com unit.
Leon stood, looking down uncertainly at Darus. "I'm sorry, Darus," he said finally.
Darus sat with his shoulders hunched, staring at the table. One finger traced a slow circle, over and over. He made no reply. Leon patted his shoulder before walking out the open hatch.
No one was there to see the single tear roll down Darus' cheek. He brushed it away angrily. He crossed the lounge to the greasy broken pump still sitting on the floor. He gave the pump a savage kick. It clattered down the stairs into the engine room.
"I think we've got a spare in the cargo hold," Clark said behind him. "I'll help you get it hooked up."
"You should never have had children," Darus said savagely. "It hurts too much. I wish I'd never had any."
"No, you don't, Darus." Clark put his arm around the shorter man's shoulders. "And I wouldn't have missed Lohys for anything. No matter what pain it may cause in the future."
