by Merry Farmer
She squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, barely sees that his men don’t like the laws he’s set up or the way he’s carried them out. I’ve done everything I can to keep the peace, but….” She trailed off, pressing her lips shut then sighing.
When she met Danny’s eyes once more it was with renewed energy. “I can’t rest, Danny. Not when there are people out there starving and maybe dying. I don’t care whose people they are, I have to do something to help them.”
A thousand bittersweet old memories resurfaced. “G-grace, you c-can’t—”
“That’s why I went to Brian’s old camp yesterday. To try to signal them. If I could just—”
“That was you?” He knew it had been. Deep in his heart, he knew Grace had sent the signals. He wanted to weep with relief.
She nodded and lowered her head, sending a guilty look over her shoulder. “Joe was furious.”
“S-stop calling him that.”
She glared up at him. “What do you care what I call the father of my child?”
It was another slap in the face, worse than the physical one. He clamped his mouth shut and looked away.
The space between them sizzled with resentment.
At last, Grace took a ragged breath.
“He dragged me back here and locked me in the cabin,” she whispered. “I spent most of a very long autumn locked in that cabin. It was the worst—”
Her face pinched tight and she crumpled in on herself.
The fresh wave of guilt and grief and anger that struck Danny was too much. He could barely feel any of it, just as he could barely feel his toes. The possibility that Grace had been a prisoner and he had done nothing to stop it froze him from the inside. He was every inch the coward Stacey had accused him of being.
“I’m s-sorry.”
“Danny.” Her voice changed again, back to anxious pleading. “I need to talk to Brian. I have to find a way to reach him, to find out what his people need to keep them from dying. I don’t care what agenda he’s working off of or what ship is going to show up someday. This winter is never-ending. We’re starting to run low on supplies and we literally had an army to prepare while they—”
“While they’ve been waiting for rescue to come from the skies,” he finished.
She stared at him, the familiar glimmer in her eyes that said she needed to bounce ideas off of him. “Yes. It hasn’t come. It’s odd. But as much as I want to wonder why, I have to think about the people on this moon first. Brian didn’t think ahead. I believe these raids mean they’re in trouble.”
“And y-you want to h-help them.”
“Yes!” She rolled to her knees, facing him head-on and grabbing his arms. “We have to help them. I…I’ve been trying to work it out. All of Kutrosky’s people need to come and integrate with our settlements, yours and mine.” The separation she implied gored a hollow cavern in his gut. “And…and when Vengeance comes, maybe we can ask them to leave us alone.”
His eyes went wide. “I d-don’t think—”
“If Brian wants to be rescued then that’s fine.” She overrode him. “But that doesn’t mean we all have to go. The Terra Project might be over for us, but this moon project is just beginning. Think of all we could build.”
Seeing the light of dreams in her eyes, even after all she’d been through, should have made him fall in love with her all over again. Should have, but for the fact that she’d called this place, Kinn’s village, her home.
He shook his head. “Brian doesn’t seem like the type to m-make deals.”
She gripped his arms tighter. “Anyone can be reasoned with.”
Laughter bubbled up through the freeze, loosening his muscles to the point of defeat. “No, Grace, some p-people cannot be reasoned with. I’m t-talking to one of them now.”
She reacted exactly as he knew she would. Irate, she pushed herself to stand, using his shoulders as a prop. He’d missed her fierceness as much as her sweetness.
“So you won’t help me?” She glared down at him, disappointment mingling with frustration.
He sighed, the weight of his failures pressing down on him. She would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself.
“Of course I’ll help you, Grace,” he went limp with defeat. “I would d-do anything for you. I let hundreds of people d-die for you. The least I could do is save a few dozen.”
Danny hadn’t liked going out at night. He had never cared much for being out after dark, even when he had been dragged to university parties as a student. But after the veiled conversation in his quarters two days ago, when Grace had taken the vinegar out of Sean during training, he was ready to hear Carrie out. Whatever her plan was to keep Grace out of harm’s way, whatever underground group she was involved in, it had been dangerous enough to call for a midnight rendezvous and not a quiet chat over lunch.
The Argo’s halls had all been dimmed to the lowest lighting level to signal the time. It was a psychological measure, put into place to keep people’s circadian rhythms from going haywire and effecting their health. His circadian rhythm was telling him he should be in bed, deeply asleep at that moment, not sneaking through crew corridors.
He rounded the corner into one of the smaller, abandoned common rooms, careful to stay silent.
“Hey!”
He jumped, pulse hitting the roof as Carrie stepped out of a shadow.
“Carrie!” Her name was as good as a curse.
She shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips. “Come on.”
She grabbed his sleeve and tugged as they stole back out to the corridor toward the elevator, then dropped it just as quickly as though he were contaminated.
He was a fool for entertaining Carrie’s subterfuge. The stakes were too high. He stood to lose too much. He may have slaved under arrogant professors and Project managers who stole his work for more than twenty years, but he’d paid his dues and had finally reached the first of what promised to be many summits. The Terra Project could make him. This madness could throw him off a cliff. But Grace had a way of making everything he’d done with his life seem trivial compared to the light in her eyes.
“Don’t say anything,” Carrie hissed as if he’d spoken his inner dialog aloud when they were safely inside the utility elevator near the ship’s storage section. “He doesn’t know I’ve told you. He doesn’t know I’m bringing you. He’s like as not to wring my neck, so you’ll have to be really convincing when he sees you. Especially if he knows who and what you are.”
“Understood.” He nodded.
“Make something up if you have to,” she went on. “Throw in something about toppling the government, ending the excesses of people in power and returning mankind to the foundations we were meant to live by. He loves that kind of thing. But more than anything, make like you hate The Terra Project.”
He nodded. With what the Project had in store for Grace, he wouldn’t have to bluff.
The elevator hummed open and they shot out into another dark, unmarked hall. Carrie charged straight ahead, her footsteps as certain as they were silent. She stopped at one of a dozen identical, plain doors. Letting out a breath, she sent him an anxious sidelong stare while biting her lip, then knocked on the door in a syncopated rhythm.
The door slid open.
“Get in,” a man’s voice ordered.
She dashed inside the room. “Brian, I’ve brought someone.”
Danny held his breath, kissing his future goodbye, and stepped in after her.
It was a storage locker, stacked high with plastic crates. A dozen large metal crates unlike anything he’d seen on the Argo lined one wall. The only light in the room came from a single lamp above, but he could still make out the face of the man he’d come to see. Brian Kutrosky. The man had just landed on the Consistory’s watch list for computer hacking. He hadn’t penetrated more than a few layers of security, so he was considered only a minor annoyance. Danny hadn’t given the new name much thought
. Kutrosky was months away from cracking any systems that would make a difference.
“Carrie.” Kutrosky crossed his arms, jaw tensed as he glared at Danny. “You’d better have one hell of an explanation for this.”
Good thing he hadn’t expected to be greeted with open arms.
“I…” Carrie stammered.
“I want out of The Terra Project.” Danny laid his cards on the table. Carrie’s mouth twitched in a momentary smile and she tilted her chin up.
Kutrosky curled his lip, staring at Danny as if he were a comical dog that could turn on him at any moment. “You. One of the Project’s chief geneticists. You want out?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Love.”
Kutrosky blinked at him, then snorted with laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Isn’t that what this is all about?” Danny pushed on, piecing together all the tidbits of information Carrie had been feeding him since she and Grace had been in his cabin. “Didn’t Leif Chernikov abandon Base One with his group for love?”
Kutrosky stopped laughing. “How do you know about Chernikov?”
Carrie shifted, chewing her lip and staring at the metal crates with guilty eyes and flushed cheeks.
“You’re not the only one who can hack deep,” Danny answered. Carrie could thank him for covering her ass later.
Kutrosky was unconvinced. His expression narrowed to dangerous suspicion. “What do you really want?”
“I told you. Grace Hargrove.”
“What?”
“I want Grace Hargrove. I want her out of the Project. I want her with me. When we land on Terra, I want to take her out of the Project, out of Base One, to wherever Chernikov and his people have gone. I want to start a new life with her, free from all this.” He spread his arms and glanced to the ceiling.
Carrie fiddled with the collar of her shirt, looking to the door, to Kutrosky, to him. Her face shone with sweat in the dim overhead light. It didn’t take all that much to see she was in over her head. And he’d trusted her.
Kutrosky’s expression spread to a wolfish grin. A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “You think I can help you steal your girlfriend off to join the breakaways.”
The malicious glint in Kutrosky’s eyes stifled any hope Danny had that Carrie could actually help him. He’d been given wrong information. Kutrosky was no noble freedom-fighter. Neither he nor Carrie had to say a word, but it was clear as day from her shifting eyes, his sneer, her intake of breath. Someone was lying about why they were there.
Danny kept his expression neutral, letting them think he bought into their lie even as he started forming his own plans. He could go to the Consistory and report them. It would be short work to come up with proof of Kutrosky’s hacking. He’d left messy data tracks. Once they got to Terra, he could find a way to get Grace out—
Kutrosky drew a gun and pointed it at Danny’s head. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you now.”
A stab of fear caught in Danny’s throat. He swallowed it, pulse racing. There was no going back. Carrie had led him into a trap he couldn’t back out of. But if he was smart, Kutrosky wouldn’t shoot the man who had knowledge, experience, and access that any enemy of The Terra Project would kill for.
“Because I’m a member of the Consistory,” he said, unblinking.
Kutrosky smirked. “That’s more of a reason why I should get rid of you as fast as possible.”
“Because I have level sixteen security clearance.” Danny shifted his weight, refusing to be intimidated. “Some members of the governing council don’t even have that kind of clearance. I have layers of code that you don’t even know exist. Because I’m the last person anyone on the Leadership Team or in the governing body would expect of treason.”
“So?” Kutrosky shrugged, adjusting his grip on the gun. Color made its way up his face and his brow shone with sweat. “That just means you’d make a very good spy.”
“Because I’m the only person who can give you what you need to make whatever plot you have succeed.” He reached into his pocket and held up a long, thin strip of iridescent plastic.
“What’s that?” Kutrosky jerked his head to it.
“It’s a data strip.”
“I can see that,” Kutrosky growled. He flexed his hand over the handle of his gun.
“It holds every code to every level of security in the command module.”
Kutrosky’s brow shot up. “Every system on this ship passes through the command module.”
“Don’t I know it.” Danny grinned. He could practically see the man salivating. Keeping that grin firmly in place, he slid the strip back into his pocket.
“You wouldn’t have brought that down here and shown it to me if you weren’t willing to bargain,” Kutrosky said, rubbing his chin. “What do you want?”
Danny glanced to Carrie, who stood to the side, eyes wide. She would probably curse the day she let him in on her little secret. He turned back to Kutrosky.
“I’ve already told you what I want. Grace Hargrove.”
Danny was still shivering, even though it had been nearly two hours since Kinn had given the order for him to be moved from the post on the deck of the large house to the longhouse. No one said so, but it was clear from the way Grace had stood three feet behind his shoulder when he ordered his men to untie Danny and carry him inside that the order was hers. He’d been dragged to the longhouse where Stacey still sat at one end of a long trestle table, under guard.
His hands and feet throbbed as the ambient warmth of the space thawed him. Stacey sat astride the bench with him, his feet held against her stomach as he lay on his back, his hands tucked in his armpits. He stared, unblinking, up at the rough-hewn beams of the ceiling—just within distance to be clear without his glasses—jaw clamped shut to cope with the pain. He would not let it get the best of him. He wouldn’t let anything get the best of him. Or anyone.
“You didn’t miss much in here,” Stacey spoke in a glum murmur, heart beating steadily against his toes. “They’ve got things down to a routine. You can tell just by watching. But if you ask me, the women are the ones running the place.”
Danny grunted. The only thing that interested him was how the hell he was supposed to fulfill his promise to Grace to track Kutrosky and his people down, how he was supposed to offer them help when all he really wanted to do was murder Kutrosky with his bare hands. His bare, useless, frostbitten hands.
“You’d’ve been really proud of the way Heather got in Kinn’s face.” Stacey huffed a laugh. “She’s a pro, that one. Had him so distracted he didn’t know where his own ass was.”
He should have been proud. He was numb.
“I tell you what, though,” Stacey went on, leaning closer to him and lowering her voice. “I don’t think folks here like Kinn all that much. You should see the looks people give him. This one guy came up to him earlier with an idea for catching wild geese—with the same net things Lauren figured out months ago, I might add—and instead of listening to him, Kinn laid into him for insubordination and failure to follow the orders of his superior officer.”
Danny huffed a bitter laugh. If that soldier only knew how viciously Governor King had cut Kinn down.
But, of course, they didn’t know. A flash of understanding sent a warm jolt down Danny’s back. He turned his head to stare at the fuzzy shapes inside of the longhouse, shapes he knew were Kinn and a few of his men holding court. He didn’t need to make them out clearly to see the unrest. The illusion of authority was the only thing keeping Kinn from a mutiny.
“To tell you the truth, Boss,” Stacey went on with a sniff, “I ain’t all that impressed with this place. It doesn’t live up to the hype.”
That much he agreed with. He stared straight up once more and adjusted his hands under his arms, willing his body to stop shaking.
“Grace, how many times do I have to tell you not to bring that thing in here?”
The longho
use zipped with tension at Kinn’s demand. Danny twisted his head and squinted in time to make out Kinn breaking away from his men and storming across the room.
He sucked in a breath and struggled to sit, pulling his feet away from Stacey and setting them gingerly on the ground. The last thing Grace needed was to see how incapable he was of carrying out her orders. He squinted at the far side of the longhouse as Grace came waddling in, a huge cat by her side.
“Scruffy?” He blinked at the beast. The huge cat’s coat had changed from dark to nearly white, but it was the same creature Grace had been courting last summer.
“He’s fine,” Grace told Kinn, stroking the cat’s back. It’d grown as high as her hip, its head as big as a boulder and its paws as wide as a snowshoe with vicious claws. It rubbed against her side like a common housecat. Its purring rumbled through the room.
“He eats food off of people’s plates and scares them,” Kinn complained.
“So do you,” Grace grumbled.
Danny smirked at the jab and his heart flipped in his chest. He forced it to silence. How many other sharp exchanges like this had the two of them had?
“What the hell are you doing here anyhow?” Kinn came to stand toe-to-toe with her but didn’t lower his voice. “You’re supposed to be napping.”
“I’ve made a decision.” She ignored his veiled command.
“So what else is new?”
Scruffy growled, baring long, deadly teeth. Kinn swayed back, eying the cat warily.
“I mean, about what?” He lowered his voice a hair.
“About what to do with him.” Grace nodded past Kinn to where Danny sat watching the exchange with a carefully blank stare.
His heart pounded. Kinn turned to look at him. Half of the rest of the people in the room perked up, paying attention. Kinn strode closer, close enough for Danny to see his eyes narrow in annoyance. Grace followed, shifting from blur to vibrant detail. She’d rebraided her hair and wrapped the long plait around her head like a crown. Her green eyes were the only part of her that betrayed worry.
Danny revised his assessment. The only things keeping Kinn in power were the illusion of authority and Grace.
