Last Song (Heinlein's Finches Book 3)

by Robin Banks

  Quinn shakes her head at Gwen as she walks away.

  “I love how she calls them our brats as if she had no responsibility over their existence. They literally came out of her body. She was there at the time. She must remember it. It was a rather vivid experience.”

  Asher snorts. “You’re telling me? They’re nothing to do with me, and yet I keep having to deal with them.”

  “They’re your kids.”

  “They’re most definitely not. They have your merciless, devious nature. And they’re cute.”

  “True on all accounts, but they got that from you.”

  “I beg to differ. Are you alright with Gwen putting them to bed?”

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. It’s probably better for them, though. I don’t think I’d be able to keep it together and I don’t want to upset them.”

  Asher wraps an arm around her shoulder. “They’re used to us leaving. They’ll be alright.”

  “I know. It’s me I’m worried about. How long do we have to stay here?”

  “We don’t.” Asher gets up. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s say our goodbyes and hit home.” He turns to look at me. “Are you coming?”

  I didn’t expect him to ask. “I don’t know. I don’t know what Raj and Alya are up to.”

  He tilts his head and looks at me really hard. “You’re hating every moment of this and you look exhausted. Why would you stay out here?”

  “They may want me here.”

  As soon as I say that I feel ridiculous, even though I really thought it. Of course they don’t want me. What would they want me for?

  “And what do you want?”

  He asks that gently enough, but Quinn is staring at me too, now, and this is starting to really suck.

  I wanna say something cutting, that I want people to mind their fucking business, that I want to be left alone, anything to make it all go away and not come back, but when I look at him that instinct evaporates. I appreciate that the guy is trying to be nice, or is just naturally nice, but I don’t need another person in my life I don’t wanna hurt.

  “Sleep. I wanna get some sleep.”

  “Come on, then. Let’s.”

  He puts his arm through Quinn’s and they march towards the crowd.

  It takes them a while to say all their goodbyes. Just about the entire community wants to give them a hug or a kiss. I don’t think it’s just because they’re off to save the planet. I think people genuinely like them. It’s not surprising: they’re likeable people. Quinn gets mobbed by a horde of kids who won’t leave her alone. She looks like she’s having a grand time. Asher has to wade in there and physically remove kids off her before we can get going.

  By the time they’re ready to go, so are Alya and Raj. We walk back without saying much. Everyone’s holding hands and being all lovey and shit, apart from me. It makes me feel… It makes me feel. It’s good, I guess, it’s better than not feeling, but it’s hard work.

  When we get to the house there’s no sign of Gwen. I’m not surprised, having seen the kind of reading Mattie is into. I wonder how that feels, not being too slow to learn stuff, having your parents being proud of you, being able to be proud of yourself. I wonder what came first, her being comfortable with herself or her being good at stuff. I wonder what’s up with Jojo, too: the kid hasn’t said a thing since I’ve been here. I know he’s young, but he’s not as young as that. I know enough about this kind of thing not to ask, though. It’s not my business anyway.

  We three visitors sit ourselves around the table. Asher winks at me and fires up the coffee machine while Quinn gets the booze out.

  Alya rests her head over her arms and sighs. “This is going to be a weird trip. A whole load of doing nothing, and then we’re gonna have to do what we’re going to have to do.”

  “Not unlike being back in the Patrol.” Asher smiles, but there’s no joy in it. “Boring or dangerous, hardly ever enjoyable, apart from the flying.”

  “You don’t miss it?”

  “No way. You?”

  “Nah. I much prefer being a kept woman.” She smiles up at Raj. “And you, you poor bastard, are going to be the only one with an actual job to do for the vast majority of the trip, yet again.”

  He smirks back at her. “Yes, because cozying up to a bunch of toffee-nosed wankers is a job.”

  “Would you do it if you didn’t have to?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Then it’s a job. You’ve got your route all set?”

  “Yes and no. I’m planning two visits ahead, so I can use the next one to stop the first one going on longer than we want to, which isn’t very long at all. I want us to get there as fast as we can without looking like that’s what we’re doing and while keeping a degree of flexibility about our movements. It’s either going to work out or be a giant mess.”

  “So we’re all set, then?”

  “I think so.”

  They’ve been talking about this for ages, I guess, but it seems to me they’ve missed something out. Then again, I’ve been busy or out of it for most of our time here, so maybe I’ve missed it. I have to ask, though.

  “Have you worked out who we’re going to be?”

  Alya frowns at me. “Beg pardon?”

  “The five of us, on a ship. It has to make sense, and it doesn’t. I mean, we can’t go around telling people we’re on a fucking quest from an oracle. We need a good story and good characters or we’re gonna stick out.”

  “Anteians take pleasure trips all the time.”

  “Not to some of the shitholes we’re gonna be hitting according to the data I’ve seen. Not without a good reason. But the main problem is why Raj would take us along. You’re his wife and Asher’s the pilot, but what the fuck do we do?”

  “Cook? Clean? Tech?”

  “Two of us, on a ship this size? And with the way Quinn sounds?”

  “How do I sound, exactly?” She’s pissed off at me, again. Gods, but she riles up easy.

  “Clever. Educated.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes go all wide and soft. “I could try and tone it down.”

  “I don’t think that’d work.”

  “Techs are educated.”

  “Yeah, but techs know about tech. Do you?”

  “Not really. Do you have a better idea?”

  It’s godsdamned obvious to me, but they clearly don’t see it. This isn’t going to go down well, but what the fuck can I do? We need good personas.

  “I can be tech and generic dogsbody. That’s what I’m good at. And if you were Raj’s very close friend, then it’d make sense for you to be there, all posh and shit.”

  Quinn squints at me. “Very close friend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Would you care to elaborate on that?”

  There’s no way in hell she didn’t get that.

  “You know, like, really close friend?” No response. “Personal friend?” Nothing.

  Alya wades in. “Quinn, Luke is trying to tell you that you should purport to be Raj’s male concubine. Which is not unheard of on Anteia, but is frowned upon in some quarters and could well result in a young gentleman deciding to take his business abroad so as to be able to do things he couldn’t get away with at home. Kid, do you realize the implications?”

  “What implications?”

  “I knew it. You didn’t give it half a thought, bless your heart. If that’s the line we take, Raj could get a reputation for bisexuality and polygamy.”

  “That’s a bad thing?”

  She beams at me. “Not for you, because you are… Because you’re you. And not for us. But it is for some people.”

  “Why would anyone care who’s, yannow, being friendly with whom? It’s not as if it affects them.”

  “It doesn’t, but some people still care. I don’t get it either. However, it’s not necessarily something Raj would want to court. Or me. I’d come out either as a part of a triad, or as a cuckold of sorts.”

  “Not really. It’s not as if you and
Quinn can compete. I mean…”

  My blush starts somewhere near the planet’s core and rushes upwards until my face is burning.

  “No, we can’t. But some people will mind, I can guarantee you that. You didn’t consider it because you’re blissfully oblivious.”

  The punch-in-the-gut feeling has just started when she smiles at me.

  “That was a compliment, dummy.”

  “Oh. Was it?”

  “Yup. I think so, anyway. You’re oblivious about the right sort of stuff. And it’s a good idea, really, which solves a problem we’d not even realized was there. You did good.”

  I run a quick scan of the table. Asher is about to piss himself laughing. Quinn looks like she fell off the conversation a while back, bumped her head on the way down, and can’t catch up. Raj is smiling so broadly his face looks about to rip open.

  He taps on Alya’s hand. “Obviously it’s not just up to me, but I think this is a splendid idea. We wouldn't even have to lie: in fact, we could quite forcibly say that there’s nothing going on between us, that Quinn is just a friend, which she is, and we could see how many people get the wrong end of the stick and struggle with the concept. It’d be hilarious.”

  Alya smiles back at him. “Your father may feel differently.”

  “Dad would simply love it. The only thing he detests more than sexual puritanism is those who try to inflict it upon others. It’s up to you two, but I’m game. It’d be a great wheeze: tell people the truth, watch them believe a lie of their own weaving, and find out who’s got a problem with it. Not one of them would have the guts to do anything about it, regardless of how uncomfortable it made them feel. I’d rather enjoy making bigots squirm.”

  “You missed your calling: we should have gotten you a job at the circus back in the days. You’d have driven the gossips to despair.”

  He sighs. “I know. It’s a damn shame I wasn’t good for anything and you wouldn’t keep me as a toyboy.”

  Alya covers her face with her hands. “That’s it. The imp of mischief is upon him. There’ll be no getting any sense out of him for hours now.”

  “Well, you don’t have to. I don’t know about the rest of you fine gentlefolk, but I’ve had a long day and I wish to retire to my bower. I hope you see you there anon.” He grabs Alya’s hand and kisses it.

  She rolls her eyes, but is quick to get up and follow him.

  “I don’t trust him on his own and I’m bushed. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  That’s when things get awkward. Like, really awkward. I’m left here with Asher and Quinn and I feel like a third wheel in the worst possible way. They’re not doing anything particularly couple-ish, and it shouldn’t be any different from being around Alya and Raj, but it is. I don’t know what’d be worse, running away from them like an ass or staying here like an ass. I stay put out of sheer inertia.

  I’m just about ready to bolt from the room when Gwen finally comes in. I’m so glad to see her I could kiss her. Asher tells her about my suggestion, which embarrasses Quinn, which makes Asher guffaw, which makes Gwen tell the both of them off for being too rowdy.

  After she’s calmed them down she looks at me with a really unsure look.

  “There’s something else we could do with knowing more about. I don’t want to make any wild assumptions, but would you envisage being able to infiltrate the drug market at short notice?”

  My stomach sinks, but I try not to let it show.

  “No. Not properly, anyway. They don’t stay in business by opening up to strangers. But I could pass as a buyer, or a link to Raj. It won’t be anything like actually being part of the scene, but I should be able to find something out. Where the stuff can be gotten from, anyway, but not the distributors. Not at short notice in new places.”

  “And would you be happy taking on that role?”

  “No, but I’ll do it. It needs doing, and none of them could.”

  That makes Quinn snap at me again. “Why, exactly?”

  “You’re too clean. Too healthy. Not desperate enough. And you don’t know the lingo.”

  “And you do?”

  “Yes.”

  She stares at me and I try to stare right back. I’d rather not look at her at all, not after all the crap that went between us, but I want to shut her up.

  Gwen breaks the tension again. “Ok, then. So Raj will get us access to all locations and a reason to be there. Luke is going to tap into the drug scene. Alya can stick her nose in the local Patrol outpost if needs be. Quinn can be a tart, which is what she does best,” she winks, “and psi-check everyone around you. And what of my dear husband?”

  Asher beams. “I’m going to fly the ship. Dashing captain and all that.”

  “Can you establish contacts with the local pilots? Find out if anyone has spotted anything untoward?”

  “I promise to spend every waking moment in the pilots’ bars by the spaceports, all for the greater good of the mission.”

  Gwen cringes. “Reassuring. Not.”

  I don’t want to be the one to point out all the holes in their plans, but someone’s gotta.

  “Guys, your papers may be good, but if we wander around Fed places someone is gonna recognize Asher. Sorry, man, but you kinda stick out.”

  “Because I’m so dashing?”

  “Because you’re like 7’ tall.”

  “6’5”! And it’s not as if I can help it. Also, see who’s talking!”

  “Sure. It’s just that there aren’t that many dazzling pilots with your height, your coloring, your history with the Patrol and Pollux, and your face. We can’t parade you about under the Fed’s nose.”

  Quinn starts giggling uncontrollably. Gwen looks at her and shakes her head.

  “Luke, worry not. This is all in hand. Our Quinn has been waiting five years for her revenge.”

  Quinn’s giggles turn to cackling as Asher’s face drops.

  “You can’t be serious! Quinn, for the love of…”

  Gwen beams at Asher. “Operational need, my love. Can’t be helped.”

  I look at the three of them with precisely zero idea of what the fuck they’re on about until Gwen takes pity upon me, kinda.

  “It’s a long story. You’ll find out tomorrow. I promise you, you’ll enjoy it. You’re mean enough to.” And with that she rounds the two of them up and takes them off to bed, leaving me alone to make my nest on the sofa.

  Lying there on my own doesn’t make me feel any more comfortable. I can’t forget that I’m surrounded by couples. Ok, so one couple includes three people, and Aiden is on his own at the moment, but the principle stands: it’s just me being on my own. It’s never bothered me before, not really, but it’s bothering me plenty now and I don’t know why.

  It takes me about an age to fall asleep. When I finally do, my brain uses my dreams to remind me about it: I’m alone here. I’m alone everywhere. When I wake up, cold and shivering, I try to tell myself that it’s a good thing, that with the prophecy and everything else it’s the best possible way for things to be. That doesn’t stop it sucking.

  10. Quinn

  It’s been over five years since Gwen, Aiden, and I went on our greatest adventure. Looking back at it now I can just about reframe it as a caper, but at the time we were pushed by desperation and hounded by fear. The only thing that kept us going forward was that we couldn’t go back. There were some amusing moments, though, as there always are when something involves my guys. One of the pinnacles of hilarity, for them at least, was when I found myself with my hair and beard shaved off, my skin darkened, my cheeks and nostrils deformed by implants, and dressed like some kind of wannabe tough guy. I hated every moment of it. Asher, who has no sympathy whatsoever for vanity in general and mine in particular, found it especially humorous. Now I get to return the favor, with interest.

  We don’t have the heart to cut his hair off. It’s not necessary to his disguise because he only grew it out when he left the Patrol, but that is just rationalizing the fact that
neither Gwen nor I can bear the thought of it. We bleach the hell out of it, though, until he’s as fair as Luke. Then we realize that the best disguise for him would be to look as much like Luke as possible. They’re similar enough for it to be feasible, and having two brothers working on the same ship makes perfect sense. So we dye his skin dark enough to cover his freckles and his scars, get him some dark blue contacts, and then find ourselves extremely creeped out by the results.

  Gwen shakes her head. “Husband, I love you dearly, but I’m glad I said my proper goodbye to you last night.”

  He scoffs. “I didn’t withhold my affections when you were a blue-eyed blonde.”

  “No. And only now I realize how creepy that was.”

  “You get to torture me and to use the results against me?”

  “Yeah. Obviously. But seriously, you and Luke could be brothers.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. “Asher’s just got to start acting like an uppity ass and I won’t be able to tell them apart.”

  Asher frowns. “I married two terrible people. What about Quinn, anyway? How do you propose to disguise your pretty face?”

  I wave his concerns away. “Already in hand. I’ll shave my beard off and put on green contacts. That ought to do. Nobody has seen my chin since I turned sixteen and hardly anyone knows me bar two years’ worth of Patrol cadets. The chances of bumping into one of them and them recognizing me are minimal. Though maybe I ought to get highlights. Gwenny, what do you reckon?”

  She starts fiddling with my hair and twitching her nose. “It might look good, but it’ll look cheap. An expensive kind of cheap, if you catch my drift. Showy.”

  “If I’m to be Raj’s side dish…”

  “Yeah. It’s the way to go. You’ll need your best clothes, too. Nothing too garish, if you’re pretending to be pretending not to be his side dish.”

  “That’s not an issue. Not with my wardrobe.”

  She frowns. “Raj can probably lend you something. You’re about the same size. Decked up in his third best you’ll still look fancy.”

  I catch Asher’s face starting to drop and I stop it with a kiss. “I’ll look silly. But if there’s an operational need…”

  He tugs at my chin. “I’ll miss your beard.”