by Lj Cohen
"All right," he said softly. He motioned the technician over. "Bring us a transport chair. I'll escort him." Turning to Micah, he frowned again. He could tell by the deep lines in his forehead that it was a well-practiced expression. "Your father is in critical condition. You have five minutes."
"Fine." Durbin stabilized his legs and helped him scoot over to the chair. Micah tucked the blanket under him and sat up stiffly as the doctor pushed him out of the treatment bay and to the shaded isolation area on the far side of medical.
Two armed guards stood at attention on either side of the closed ward.
"If he's that critical, what do they think he's going to do?"
Durbin didn't answer. He cycled the two of them through the airlock.
Micah drew his breath in sharply. His father lay on a medi-bed, intubated, and on life support. The soft beeping of monitors and the whoosh of air forced in and out of his unresponsive lungs were the only sounds in the sterile room.
Swearing quietly, he maneuvered the chair out of Durbin's hold and toward his father. Half of his head was covered in surgical drapes. "What happened?" His voice was hardly louder than the life support equipment.
"He wrestled a weapon from one of the officers. The man got shot in the scuffle. The senator shot himself in the head." Durbin could have been giving any bland medical report.
Micah struggled to find a single memory of the man where he wasn't selling something to someone. Even when his mother lay dying, he hadn't had the balls to show her some honest grief.
He leaned forward and laughter shook through him until he couldn't breathe and tears streamed down his face. Durbin placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. Micah shrugged it off. "Can he hear me?"
"Probably."
"Good." Micah pulled his chair closer and bent his head close to his father's intact ear. "You son of a bitch. Selfish to the end. You didn't even leave me anything to trade you for. But hey, your perfect face will look just fine at the funeral. Well played, Senator. Well played."
"Micah," Durbin said.
He cut him off. "I'm done here." The senator would live or die, but it didn't matter anymore. His father had been gone a long time. It just took Micah until now to accept it.
***
Ro watched Micah disappear into a treatment bay and turned to the triage nurse. "My ankle needs to be re-cast. Then you're going to clear me to return to duty."
He stared her down. "Trust me. If I can throw you out of medical, I will."
She gritted her teeth, knowing of all of them, her injuries were likely the most inconsequential. "How are Micah and Jem?"
He consulted his micro. "Stable and Serious. Turn your head." He cleaned the split on her cheek and ran a scanner over the cast. "Give me five minutes."
"Fine."
In his competent hands, the laser cutter seamed the broken cast in seconds. Exposed to the air and free of the anesthetic wrap, her ankle throbbed in time to her heartbeat.
"I'm going to infuse a bone stimulant along with the pain-killer. Minimal walking once I put the stabilizer on."
She nodded, watching him prepare the tiny device. He affixed it to her ankle, bridging the fracture, before wrapping her lower leg in a device as much external scaffolding as cast.
Ro lurched her way to her quarters and stood at the door, her heart pounding. For once, she didn't have to consider where her father was or what his mood would be. Taking a steadying breath, she triggered the door and strode inside. Dirty cups and dishes filled the sink and overflowed onto the counter. Snarling a curse, she snatched one of her father's cups and hurled it across the room. It crashed against the wall with a satisfying crunch.
It took three full cycles before Ro felt her hair got clean enough. The clothes couldn't be salvaged and she shoved them in the recycler. Wearing a pressed, fresh basic work uniform, Ro headed back to command, struggling to hold onto a fragile sense of control.
The two senior officers guarding the commander's office nodded and passed her request through to Mendez. The door opened. "Come!" Mendez's sharp voice rang out.
In the brief time she'd spent in medical, the staff had been busy. The only sign of the violence that had scarred the room was a jagged line carved across the far wall. The blood had been cleaned off and the floor smoothed back to its unblemished shine. Mendez, too, seemed untouched by the conflict, until she turned and Ro saw the dark bruises beneath her deep-set black eyes.
"You are not your father."
She winced. How true was it? Maybe Nomi could tell her, because she didn't know anymore.
Mendez drew her micro out and gestured toward Ro. Frowning, she pulled her own device from its pocket. The file Mendez sent blinked at her. Emancipation papers. Signed and witnessed.
Her knees trembled and she grabbed at a chair to hold her balance.
"There is the matter of compensation."
Ro's shoulders slumped. They had done a fuck-load of damage when Halcyone blasted free of the station. She had no idea what kind of resources her father had, but she supposed they belonged to her now. It would be better to pay reparations with it than to use it any other way.
"I don't suppose it matters, but I regret the damage my actions have caused." She paused. "Commander, about Halcyone —" Ro hadn't ever wanted anything in her life as much as she wanted that ship. Her ship. The ship she woke from the dead.
"The transport Halcyone has had a salvage claim registered on her by the commander of Hephaestus."
"She's not salvage!" She leaned forward. "She was under my command!"
Mendez raised her eyebrows and Ro fell silent, feeling the blood pulse in her ears.
"That's technically true, Ms. Maldonado. And it's also technically true that her designation is officially registered to a long dissolved private corporation, not the Commonwealth of Planets."
"Oh." Ro could hardly breathe. Would Mendez support her claim?
"But we have yet to settle on compensation."
Her breath eased out of her in a sigh. It would likely take her a lifetime on Daedalus to finish paying for the destruction.
"Rather than a lump sum of credits, would you accept a free-and-clear deed to the ship?"
She stood, blinking. "What?"
"Halcyone. Is she just compensation for your losses and your testimony at the weapons trial?"
Tears blurred her vision, turning Mendez's uniform into a sparkle of silver glints on gray. "Yes," she said. "Yes."
Ro walked through the corridors in a daze, seeing only the lines of the ship. It was battered and scarred, like her. Crew members and station personnel greeted her by name. She didn't think that many people had even known who she was.
At Nomi's quarters, she paused, her hand hovering near the chime. The door slid open and Nomi stood in off-duty casual, a short floral kimono wrapped over slim leggings. Ro glanced down at her gray and silver uniform and wondered if she were actually on duty or not and what it meant for her position on Daedalus that Mendez had given her the ship.
"So, do you actually want to come in?" Nomi said, a gentle smile curving her lips.
"Oh, sorry." Ro took the offered hand and stepped over the threshold. Her blunt, squared off nails contrasted with Nomi's soft skin and smooth fingertips.
"I decided to go with the traditional — tea rather than coffee. Is that okay?" Nomi led her to the sofa. The low table in front was set with a stark, geometric teapot and matching cups, all in a bright glossy white. Steam rose from the teapot and a woody, aromatic scent filled the small space.
"Sure," Ro said, and sat. Nomi sat beside her, poured each cup half full, and handed her one. The fluted squared-off shape fit easily in her hands.
"Thank you."
"The set belonged to my grandmother. She would have liked you."
"Why? Was she blunt and unsocialized, too?"
Nomi laughed. "Well, maybe a little. She was well known for speaking her mind. Not a traditional or desirable trait in the history of Japanese culture, but I adored her.
"
Ro glanced around the room at all the reminders of Nomi's family and wondered what it would be like to feel connected like that. "You're lucky." She took a sip from the hot tea and set the cup down. "I never want to see my father again."
"Do you think he's still drifting out there?" Nomi gestured up, as if they could see the field of empty stars that surrounded Daedalus.
"I think he's too vindictive to be dead." Ro jumped up and paced the living room area.
Nomi set her tea down and stood, blocking Ro's path. She reached up to cup Ro's face, her thumb gently tracing beneath the suture line across her cheek, just below her left eye. Ro stiffened and Nomi let her hands drop.
"I'm sorry," Ro said, staring into Nomi's disappointed eyes. "I don't think I know how to do this."
"Am I that scary?" Nomi asked.
"No. It's just —" Her father had used her need for companionship as a threat and all those years of fear didn't vanish with him. "I'm sorry. I want —" She didn't know what she wanted, but she didn't want to lose Nomi and her gentleness. "Wait! I have something to show you!"
"I'm not going anywhere," Nomi answered, laughing. "I live here."
Ro sank back onto the sofa and dug out her micro. "Look!" Waking up the screen, she showed her the emancipation papers. "I'm free to go to Uni. Free to leave. To do anything!"
"Congratulations, Ro." Nomi handed her back the micro, her face still, her voice flat. "Where will you go?"
Ro wanted to chase the sadness from Nomi's eyes. "That's not even the best part." Her pulse sped up. Slowly, she reached out to clasp both of Nomi's hands in hers, her body moving on automatic pilot. Part of her brain froze, repeating a terrified mantra. What am I doing? What am I doing? She swallowed the fear.
"Halcyone is mine. I can keep her." She looked into Nomi's dark eyes, wanting to see her shared excitement. "I can … We can go anywhere."
Nomi's eyebrows met in the center of her forehead. Ro wanted to smooth the lines away.
"I don't understand."
"Come with me," Ro whispered, before she could take the words back. She straightened her spine and lifted one hand to touch Nomi's cheek. It was smooth against the roughened skin of her palm. Her hand shook, but her father wasn't here and he no longer had control over her or her choices. "Come with me," she repeated, her voice gaining strength.
Nomi pressed her hand over Ro's before standing and stepping back. "You could stay here. Daedalus is going to need an engineer."
"I can't." Ro winced, unable to meet Nomi's gaze.
"He's not here anymore. There's nothing to run away from."
But her father was still here. He'd dragged her to Daedalus just like he'd dragged her from one posting to another her whole life. "Come with me, Nomi." She stood, afraid to close the distance between them. "Halcyone needs a comms officer."
Nomi smiled sadly and looked around her quarters at the photos crowding the walls. Ro followed her gaze, settling on her graduation picture, a hologram of Nomi, standing between her beaming parents, all three of them with their arms entwined. "I have a responsibility. To them. To Daedalus Station. And obligations to honor." She reached for Ro, gathering her in her arms.
Ro stiffened against the taller woman and forced herself to breathe. Her head nestled easily against Nomi's shoulder.
"You are not your father," she said. "You don't have to make his mistakes."
"No, I'm perfectly capable of making my own," Ro said, her tears soaking into the soft fabric of Nomi's kimono.
Chapter 42
Walking into their quarters, Barre felt like he had stepped into someone else's past. With a distant, observer's eye, he watched their parents fuss over Jem. His mother gathered him in her arms as if he were a baby and carried him from the transport chair to the living room.
"There's nothing wrong with my legs, Mother," Jem complained.
"You should be in medical," she said, depositing him onto the sofa.
Jem glanced up at his father for support. He stood by the chair, his arms folded. "Look, you said it yourself; they did everything they could on Hephaestus. And I'll be more comfortable here anyway."
His father nodded.
"None of this would have happened if you hadn't interfered in your brother's affairs." The set of his mother's expression had always said anger to him, but when Barre met her gaze now, he recognized the fear.
"You didn't give me a choice!" Jem cried, glaring up at her, his body trembling.
Barre sat next to his brother and took his hand. "We all have choices." If he hadn't made some monumentally stupid ones, things might have ended up differently. He glanced up at both of his parents. His father met his gaze briefly, a flash of pain moving across his face. They had made their own choices as well. And here they all were, trapped at the intersection of them all.
"Barre, you need help. Your father and I have made our decision."
"You can't!" Jem cried. "You don't understand!"
Barre squeezed Jem's hand and stood. "But I do." He squared his shoulders and faced his mother and father. "I did some stupid shit, but I'm okay now. I know what I need to do."
"Barre, no!" Jem shouted.
"I don't have a place in your world, but I have a place in my own." He thought he saw a flicker of pain pass through his father's expression, but it was gone before he could be sure, replaced by his usual stoic frown. "I'm not asking for anything you don't want anyway." They would have their orderly life and their genius child to continue the family legacy. Barre would no longer be their problem to fix.
The play of emotions across his mother's face told Barre everything he could ever hope to understand. He walked over to her and took her cold hands in his, leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You have what you need. This is what I need," he said, softly.
His father gave him a huge spine-cracking hug. It was the kind of touch Barre hadn't remembered getting from him since he was younger than Jem.
"Please, don't go," Jem said, his voice thick, his eyes shining.
He knelt by his brother's side. "Look, you know there's nothing for me here. And don't worry; I'll only be as far as your micro."
A wild look of fear flitted across Jem's face before he threw his arms around Barre's neck. "I want to hear all the music you make, okay?"
"You got it, kiddo."
"Where will you go?" his mother asked, her voice raspy, tuneless.
"My emancipation petition will be lodged with Commander Mendez," Barre answered. "I think it's best for everyone if you sign it without protest."
No one said a word as he slipped into his old bedroom and packed a small bag. He looked around at the music and instruments he had collected over a lifetime. Stroking his hands across a replica of an old style twelve-string guitar, he listened until the echoes and harmonics faded away before leaving it all behind him.
***
Ro walked blindly through the station until she found herself at Halcyone's airlock. The silence of the temporary corridor only increased the emptiness she felt inside. She rested her head against the dulled metal of the hull. The ship or Nomi. She couldn't have both.
"Halcyone, unseal the outer door."
Nothing happened. She tried triggering the release through her micro, but it wouldn't pair with the AI. Was she under quarantine? Had Targill disputed her claim? Ro's mouth dried. She'd walked away from Nomi. If she had also lost Halcyone, then there was nowhere she belonged. She swore and slammed her hand against the hull, wincing at the pain that traveled up the length of her arm.
"Here. Let me try."
Ro whirled around. Barre stood blocking her way in the umbilical, a bag thrown across one wide shoulder. He whistled a brief fanfare and waved his arm toward the lock. "All yours."
She glared at him before turning back to the ship. "Halcyone, unseal the outer door." The airlock cycled and it sprung open with an audible pop. "What are you doing here?"
"Same as you, I'd bet."
His tone seemed casual, but even Ro's unt
rained, unmusical ear heard a kindred sadness in it. He stepped into the lock with her and shut the outer door. Ro triggered the inner door to open. Her shoulders relaxed as she returned to her ship. Her ship. Relief flooded through her. "How did you know I'd be here?"
"I didn't. Not for sure. But I figured whoever claimed her was going to need me."
"You are going to have to teach me to do that."
"What? And put myself out of a job?"
She stopped and Barre bumped into her. Slowly turning around, she confronted him. "Are you asking to stay on the ship?"
He clutched his bag to his chest and stepped back. "Would you let me if I did?"
"She's officially mine, now," Ro said. "In all her damaged glory."
The wild hope that lit Barre's eyes was also something she recognized.
"But she's going to need work. This isn't a holiday cruise."
He laughed, a deep, hearty sound that filled the corridor. "Not like our last trip, then?"
Her laughter joined his. A familiar melody played through Halcyone's speakers in harmony with them. "I guess she approves."
Barre shrugged.
Ro smoothed down her uniform tunic and stuck out her hand. Barre shook it, a huge smile breaking across his face. "Well, then, welcome aboard, Doc." Halcyone was going to need everything both of them could give before she was fully functional again. "Time to get to work."
"My pleasure, Captain."
She smiled a small, private smile and strode toward the bridge.
*
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Other titles by LJ Cohen: (available in all eBook and trade paperback formats)
ITHAKA RISING (Halcyone Space, book 2)
When Jem Durbin disappears, his trail dead ends at the black market. Ro Maldonado and Jem's brother, Barre, race to fix their derelict ship, desperate to find Jem before he sells his future, risking his mind for an illegal neural implant. But they're not the only ones looking for "The Underworld" and its rogue planet, Ithaka. What they find endangers more than just the three of them and forces them to confront a very different truth about the war they believed was ancient history. (preview or purchase on Amazon)
