Last Song (Heinlein's Finches Book 3)

by Robin Banks

  I get up and start doing it right. Quinn’s still standing in my way, so I work around her.

  I don’t really fully catch up with what just happened until I hear Asher murmur, “Gorgeous, we’re guests here.”

  “Yes. My point exactly.” Quinn’s voice is freezing cold.

  I look up at her and she’s so furious she’s gone rigid. Fuck. I rewind everything that happened since I walked in here, replay it with my brain switched on, stop what I’m doing, and try to rewind history.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I’m not really awake. It’s just that…”

  “That you can do better.”

  She’s not going to drop this one in a hurry. I don’t blame her.

  I try again. “Uncle Kolya gave us food for the trip, so we could make khachapuri like he does them. He taught me how to cook. And he’d be fucking disgusted at me for being an asshole about it. I’m sorry.”

  She tilts her head. “Are you sorry for being an asshole, or because he’d be disgusted?”

  “Yes.”

  She stares at me so hard that I start to blush, then she shakes her head.

  “Alright. Work your magic.”

  “You want me to show you?”

  “Right now I’d prefer to shove it all down your throat. But yes.”

  I start all over again. Although I’ve learnt all my cooking from uncle Kolya, my stuff never turns out quite like his. I better do it right this time, though. If I fuck it up after all that, I’m going to walk myself right out of the airlock. After a few minutes of me narrowly avoiding an accident because I’m so fucking wound up with unspent adrenaline and with Quinn watching me, she sniffs.

  “Why that shape?”

  “Dunno. That’s how Kolya does it. It makes it come out good.”

  “Hmm.” She’s looking down her nose at what I’m doing, but at least she’s looking.

  “Maybe it’s just that Kolya makes them like this, and that’s why they taste good to me.”

  “Keep saying stuff like that and I’ll start believing you’re capable of human feelings.”

  That fucking smarts. I deserve it, but it smarts. I manage to cover it up because I’m busy enough to have a reason not to look up. I’ll be damned if I make another scene in front of them.

  Alya and Raj walk in when I’m almost finished. They’re holding hands and they look rested. I like to see that.

  Raj sniffs the air and beams. “What are you guys up to?”

  Asher smiles back at him. “Luke’s making khaki puree.”

  “Khachapuri? This early in the morning? You’re keen.”

  I shrug. I don’t want to tell them that Quinn started. I don’t want to bring any of that up.

  The three of them chatter softly to each other while I finish cooking. My eyes are still burning and all I want to do is get out of here as quickly as I can. I’m just starting to relax into the end of this clusterfuck as I dish out when Quinn mutters, “There are five of us.”

  “I wasn’t going to…”

  “You’re not going to sit down and eat with us?” She says it quietly enough, but there’s no way Alya hasn’t heard.

  “No. Yes. Of course. Thank you. I need one more plate.”

  I sit down with them, because I can’t not. The food’s not half bad. It’s not quite like Kolya’s, but everyone says they like it and they eat it all up, so maybe they’re telling the truth. At least I can do this right. I eat and I drink and I speak when I’m spoken to and try to make up for earlier, even though I know I can’t. Maybe I’ll get some points for trying. Everyone seems reasonably happy, anyway, even though Quinn still looks at me like she’d rather not.

  When they’ve all finished eating, Asher leans back in his chair.

  “So, what do you do to kill time around here?”

  Alya groans. “I have a ton of reading to catch up with. I never seem to get the time at home.”

  Raj grins. “I have a wife whose reading I want to interrupt.”

  She shushes him, but her eyes look happy.

  It’s my turn, and I have no good answer. “Normally I have work to do, but now I don’t. I play guitar, mostly.” That’s not a lie. I do that more than I do anything else. I sure as hell don’t read much and I don’t have anyone to bother.

  Asher grins at Raj. “Do you mind if we mess about in the cargo bay? We’ll put things back were we found them. It looks good for climbing, and we need to keep up our training.”

  “Climbing training?”

  “Combat. We’re a terrible fit because we don’t suit the same style, so it tends to be more amusing than useful, but at least it’s amusing.”

  Alya cringes. “Academy-style?”

  “Bit of this, bit of that. I’m more for whatever works, and not much works for all of us. Aiden, Sasha, and Quinn are a good fit. Gwen is like a twirling whirlwind of stabbiness. It’s good fun.”

  “I never got to enjoy that. I only ever trained at the Academy, and I sucked so bad I hated it. I bet I’d be tragic now.”

  “If you were good enough to graduate, you were good enough.”

  “In ’69? They would have let my dog graduate, they needed recruits that badly. I couldn’t compete with the guys, so I just killed them all as fast as I could.”

  Asher blinks rapidly. “And that means you suck at combat how?”

  “Well, it doesn’t help in situations when you can’t take people out. And it’s not sporting.”

  “I should bloody well hope not. I’d like to see you train with our Gwenny. From a safe distance, that is. Perhaps the next ship. Anyway, if you want to play with us you’re more than welcome. You all are. It’d help us out, really: we know each other too well.”

  Quinn smirks. “I have to warn you, though: Asher gets bossy.”

  “I do not!”

  “Yes, you do. It’s a good kind of bossy if you miss getting yelled at.”

  Alya shakes her head. “I really don’t. I was never much good at taking orders. Yelling at me has a tendency to make me do the opposite.”

  “How the hell did you cope with the Patrol, then?”

  “I was good at ignoring orders without getting noticed.”

  They’re still chatting, laughing, and having a great time when I sneak off. They either don’t notice or don’t mind.

  Things fall into a pattern, like they always do on a smooth trip. Asher and Quinn are a good fit on this ship: they like to keep busy, or Asher does and Quinn can’t stop him. That keeps Raj and Alya entertained. There’s only so much gazing into each other’s eyes any couple can do, I guess.

  Asher wasn’t lying about their training: it gets goofy as hell. That makes it less stressful, though, so I’m all for it, particularly as they roped me into it. I don’t suck at is as much as I expected. I’ve got no prior training, but I have a lot of experience trying not to get my ass kicked. I’m better than Quinn, anyway, though worse than anyone else.

  Alya is fucking scary. Put a toy knife in her hand and she goes full psycho. Raj is the only one who can match her, or maybe the only one who dares to try, and he’s been training since he was old enough to stand. I’m not sure that she finds him beating her as amusing as she lets on. There’s a chance she’s pretending so she can kill him for real later on. Asher deals with her purely by staying out of reach until she gets frustrated and messes stuff up. Quinn and I just scram out of her way. I can scram faster, so I last longer, but it doesn’t seem like much of a victory. Still, it’s fun, though it’s hard work. I get out of puff way too easily. Asher can run rings around me and he’s nearly twice my age. I’m damned ashamed of myself. I guess that’s what you get for doing fuck-all for months.

  Asher can kick my ass at most things, really. He’s like a supercharged version of me or something. He’s scrawny as fuck, though he eats like a horse, but all of him is muscle. He seems to have twice my energy and four times my enthusiasm. The first time I see him climb up the walls of the cargo bay and pull himself along the ceiling as easy as crossing the
road my jaw hits the floor. I can climb well enough – or I could, anyway. That’s how I kept myself out of serious shit when I was a kid. I just went up and down buildings, though, just basic stuff. He moves as if gravity didn’t affect him. I try not to make a big deal about it ‘cause I don’t want to creep him out, but I could watch him all day long.

  I’d like to give it a go, but I know I’d fuck it up. Quinn tries it and can’t do it, but she doesn’t seem to mind too much. She’s cooler than me, I guess. Maybe I could give it a go when nobody is around. If someone’s watching I’ll fuck it up for sure.

  Between one thing and another we’re keeping ourselves busy. It doesn’t give me much time to myself, which kinda sucks, but it also doesn’t give Alya much time to worry about me being an antisocial weirdo. Overall, it’s good. It’s manageable.

  I’m in the kitchen getting our last on-ship meal ready. Asher is drinking his umpteenth coffee and Quinn is pretending she’s not watching me cooking. It’s all going ok, until Alya barges in. I thought I’d heard some faint screaming in the distance but I figured it was a threedee they were watching. Looking at her face, I bet it was them.

  She gets right into it, like she always does.

  “You know how the whole of the Fed is a heap of shit that should be nuked from space for the benefit of humankind?”

  Asher winces. “What is it now?”

  “We just found out. This station is class-segregated.”

  “Is what?” Asher’s jaw drops.

  “Movements between the quarters are restricted. Third-classers can only enter second-class quarters if they’re carrying a pass from their employers. They can only enter first-class quarters with a special permit.”

  Quinn explodes. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No. I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

  “What is this, Terra? Next you’ll tell me we have to wear an armband marking our class or…” She trails off when she sees Alya’s face.

  “You don’t have to, not if you’re staying in the third-class quarters, but it’s recommended. If you don’t, you might be stopped and searched.”

  “Of all the… What’s the fucking g-force in the third-class quarters?”

  “Over 1.5 average. Radiation levels aren’t great, either, not in the outer levels. We can get you rooms in a decent part of the third-class quarters, or you can stay on ship. We may be able to get a permit for you to come with us, though that would raise a few eyebrows. We can’t do anything for Luke and Asher. We couldn’t justify it.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  Alya’s face goes dead. “VIP quarters. Middle of the first-class section. Raj and I have been invited to stay with the station Commander.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without Asher, that’s for sure.”

  Asher murmurs, “Do you want to think about it? It could be rough.”

  “It’ll be just as rough for you as for me. I’m not going and that’s that.”

  “Ok.” Asher turns to Alya. “How long are we staying here for?”

  “One night. We get in, Raj does his thing, we get out. Raj is already set to strangle the Fed rep. The only reason we’re going ahead with this is that he doesn’t want to let his family down.”

  Asher looks at Quinn. “Do you want to get rooms?”

  “I don’t see the point. I’d rather stay on ship. The less I have to do with any of that, the better.”

  “Ok, then. That’s us set. Luke?”

  The three of them look at me. “Ship.”

  Alya squints. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. My room. My gear. My kitchen.”

  “You will need to get out for a bit. I don’t want you getting cabin fever.”

  “Sure.” She keeps squinting at me. “I will. I promise.”

  “Alright, then. We’ll need supplies, if you’re up to shopping.”

  “Sure.”

  “You say that a lot.”

  I shrug. She sighs. We’re brilliant conversationalists. She looks fucking awful. I wish there was something I could say to make this better, but I can’t think of a damn thing.

  When we get there, Raj and Alya get all decked up in their posh gear before leaving. Anteian traditional fashion is all bright colors, tons of embroidery, and enough jewelry for the women that I don’t know how Alya carries it all. If she stepped in the flat I grew up in she’d double its value, easy. She never seems to care about all that, though. I guess it’s a uniform like any other uniform – it just happens to be fancier, is all. She looks beautiful in it, but she doesn’t look much like herself.

  I get a chance to take a good look at her because she has to stop and lecture me before going off. She talks to me as if I were a teenager fresh from grubbing. I can’t really blame her, not with my track record, but sometimes I wish she pretended to trust me when we’re in public.

  “We’re going to be back as soon as we can, but it’s a formal reception, so it’s likely to go on until late tonight, more likely early tomorrow. We won’t be back until tomorrow lunchtime at the earliest. You’ll have to entertain yourself, ok?”

  “Yeah. No problem.”

  “We want to leave as soon as humanly possible, so you need to be here tomorrow afternoon. We’ll leave by dinnertime, hopefully.”

  “Ok.”

  “Anteian diplomatic immunity doesn’t extend to Fed citizens who just happen to live there. I don’t want to have to bail you out of prison.”

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  “Alya, have I manifested any criminal tendencies lately?”

  “No.”

  “Then maybe you could assume I won’t develop any in the next couple of days.”

  “Alright. But you watch yourself when you go out. The third-class quarters are likely to be rough and people can see the ship you got out of.”

  “If anyone tries to steal my lunch, I’ll hand it over without quibbling. Alya, I’ll be fine. I’ve been alone in public places before.”

  Her mouth twitches. “You have. I’m sorry. But… I don’t know. I don’t like this station. You watch out, ok?”

  “I will. You go and enjoy your formal reception.”

  “No need to rub it in, asshole.”

  “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to muss you up.”

  She throws herself at me and squeezes my waist. I hug her back and manage to let go at the right time, even though I don’t feel like it.

  “You have fun. But not too much. And call us if you need us.”

  I watch them both walk to the tiny vehicle that came to pick them up. Just as well it did: apart from the punishing g-force, this place looks like a total shithole. It looks rougher than home did, and that’s saying something. I make sure they get in their vehicle ok, though the two of them don’t need any help from me. I’m just securing the door when I spot Quinn looking at them too. She’s got a look on her face like she’s smelling something bad. I know I should keep my trap shut, but nobody looks at Alya like that.

  “You got a problem?”

  “I just think it’s ironic.”

  “What is?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Nothing.”

  “If it’s nothing why the hell did you mention it?”

  “You’re right. I don’t know why I bothered.”

  I don’t know what the fuck is up with her, but something is for sure, and if she carries on like this there’s going to be something up with me too.

  I try to change tack. “Where’s Asher?”

  “He’s having a lie-down.”

  “Is he ok?”

  “Of course he isn’t.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because the g-force in this place is ridiculous. He has a lot of old injuries. This isn’t doing him any good.”

  “Why didn’t he tell Alya?”

  “What would have been the point? What was she going to do?”

  “She said she’d get us all rooms somewhere.”

  “Rooms in the segrega
ted quarters where the lesser humans dwell? How kind of her. Meanwhile, she and Raj go kissing the asses of the people who are responsible for this. I bet it’s going to be a swell party. No undesirables there.”

  “They hate all that!”

  “Yet they go along with it with smiles on their faces.”

  “This is Raj’s job. It’s how he makes a living. It’s his duty to his family.”

  “I hope he’s proud of himself.”

  The smirk on her face pushes my last button. “You filthy fucking hypocrite. You’re so disgusted at him but you’re perfectly happy to have him cart you around and cater for you. You wanna take a stand? Take a fucking stand on your own fucking feet. Fly your own fucking ship. Save your own fucking planet. Get your own fucking meals. You parasitic piece of crap.”

  “How dare you…”

  “Tell you the truth? Pretty fucking easily. What are you going to do, lecture me to death?” She’s so fucking angry now she can’t even speak. That suits me fine. “You carry on judging us all. Everyone needs a hobby. I’ve got shit to do, anyway. I have to go and get supplies so I can continue catering for you. Your principles may burn so strong that the food turns to ashes in your mouth, but you keep fucking eating it.”

  I get the fuck out of there before I do or say something worse. When I close the door behind me, she’s still standing in front of it, rigid with fury.

  12. Quinn

  It takes me a while to shake off my anger to the point where I can move. When I do, I turn around to find Asher staring right at me with an expression so sad that it chills me.

  “What is it? Tell me. Please.”

  “I hate to say this, I really do, but he was right and you were wrong. Unnecessarily wrong, too, because you know perfectly well that you were talking nonsense. You know that Raj doesn’t have the power to change the system: not on his own, anyway. He doesn’t have the duty to do so either. The only power he has comes to him from the system, and he clearly does his best to use it for good.”

  “Yeah, right. Like a colonial overlord laboring for the good of his inferiors.”

  “Like a guy who didn’t get a chance to choose his parents and is doing his best to lead a good life, just like us. Like someone who is putting a lot of resources and time into helping us out. Like someone who deserves our thanks, not our insults. Quinn, I appreciate that this situation is far from ideal, but you were awful. I trust Luke enough to hope that he won’t repeat anything you said to Raj or Alya purely because he cares about them enough to protect them, but you owe him an apology.”