This was it.
He edged closer, moving his hand more fully over hers. “You smell fucking amazing, Jane.”
He held his face close to hers. With his free hand he smoothed a loose tendril of her hair back from her face and traced his fingers over her cheek. She still didn’t look sure. He smirked at her. “Wanna cuddle?”
A surprised sound flew from her lips. Her eyes looked brighter. She smiled at him. “Yeah. I do.”
She leaned into him, warm and full of promise. He put an arm around her. She rested her head against his cheek and they stayed that way for a while.
Finally she lifted her head and pressed her lips against his. Soft kisses, at first, then more frenzied. The kisses deepened. He couldn’t get enough of her.
When he felt her hands go under his shirt he stood and tore it off, then pulled her up against him so he could fumble with the knots on that infernal uniform. He’d done this before, though, and he made quick work of them.
She was watching his expression closely as he loosened the final knot. He didn’t open the tunic right away. Instead he kissed her and let his hands still for a moment. Her hands were restlessly roaming his body.
He ran his fingers between the two panels of the front. Her breathing quickened and her fingernails dug into his upper arms. She lifted her mouth to his, crushing his hand between them.
He slipped his hand under the right panel and let it rest just under her breast. It brushed against his knuckles as she moved.
She pulled him closer until he was grinding into her.
He tugged the tunic off. She stood there looking at him shyly as he gazed at her lush body. She gasped as he bent his head and planted a light kiss on each breast.
He eased himself down on the edge of the bed and turned her to face him, pulling her between his knees. He loosened the waistband of her pants, letting them fall to the floor as he placed openmouthed kisses all over her, gliding his lips over her silky skin while his fingers wandered more intimately.
She was panting raggedly with her eyes closed.
Her legs began to tremble. A moan started low in her throat and rose in tone until she ran out of breath. He moved his fingers faster. Suddenly she seized up and cried out. Then she was collapsing into him, no longer able to stand.
He maneuvered her onto the bed, pulled the tangle of pants from her ankles, and pulled off his own.
Easing into her felt like coming home. He hovered over her and rocked his hips, leaning in for kisses. Her eyes were dark and her cheeks flushed. She gazed back at him with an expression that made him crazy—it was wonderment. It was all he could do to keep himself from pounding into her like a wild animal. But he kept it slow for as long as he could, until she was moaning again and pushing up against him like she wanted more. When she was arching and spasming under him, he finally let go.
Afterward he pulled her with him as he rolled on his side, keeping her connected to him, fully entwined, still kissing.
Her hair had slipped from its restraints and lay over her face. He smoothed it back to find tears sliding over her nose. A small dose of panic seized him.
“Jane? You okay?” he whispered.
She sniffed and smiled at him. “Yes. More than okay.” Then she burrowed her face into his neck. They fell asleep like that, tangled together, with the lights still on.
45
Fight or flight engulfed Brai. Coherent thought had not yet found a place to moor when he came to himself flattened against the side of the tiny enclosure, limbs flailing, mantle pulsing frantically, with Jane’s voice in his mind saying, “Whoa, whoa, it’s okay, Brai. Slow down.”
The intensity surprised him. Every nerve screamed torment. Every muscle twitched and throbbed. Every synapse fired out of control.
“We’re premature,” Dr. Ajaya Varma observed.
Doubt and fear were the dominant emotions in Jane’s mind. His eyes rolled around, trying to find her and failing. The light was too bright and he couldn’t focus.
“Brai, we’re putting you out again,” Jane said. There was a tremor in her mental voice. She was concentrating on the console. “We’ll give you more time to heal before we attempt to wake you again.”
He couldn’t reply. He couldn’t even form a strangled half thought.
He heard Schlewan say, “You must face the possibility that he will not…”
He went blank.
* * *
The next time they brought him to consciousness more slowly. He couldn’t feel his limbs. He twitched, breathing sluggishly.
“Brai? Can you hear me?” It was Jane. She was repeating this phrase.
He drifted through a light-saturated haze. The water felt viscous, difficult to pull in or push out. It took a long time to force himself to answer her because it took so much effort. “Yes.”
He felt the presence of Dr. Ajaya Varma, working at Jane’s side. “Do you feel any pain?”
“No.”
Varma continued, “Good. We are returning function to your central nervous system gradually. You must tell us if you feel pain.”
Varma made an adjustment. He felt Jane’s anxiety rise and subside as she tamped it back down. He experienced a degree more sensation, mobility, strength, but no pain.
By tiny fractions they restored him until he was whole and what remained of the suffering of his first waking was bearable. It was, he thought, less than he’d been enduring before Jane had discovered his problem.
They watched him, tested every parameter, questioned him until they were satisfied he was stable, had reached a safe equilibrium with the new squillae, and then they freed him.
It felt good to be in his larger space. It felt right. But beyond that, he realized quite suddenly, he felt little else. He should have felt immense relief. It should have been glorious. Joyful. He considered this analytically, probing his own mind for clues about the change.
He’d been restored to standard—to the state he’d been in before the ionic burst had destroyed all of the squillae aboard. He remembered being afraid of that course of action, afraid of how it might change him. It had changed him—for the better. He mourned the loss, but only lightly, because that was all the emotion he was permitted.
Then duty consumed him and those thoughts were set aside to concentrate on checking every system on the ship: orbit, trajectory, life support, every status and condition that he normally monitored constantly. He’d neglected his responsibilities too long. It took a while to reassure himself that all was right, in place, and working properly.
Quasador Dux Jane Holloway appeared—had he once dared to call her Jane?—on the other side of the barrier just outside his workspace. An expression he’d come to know as concern transformed her features. He drew himself into the compulsory submissive pose without thought, turning his gaze away from her while something inside him ached with confusion.
“This is why you didn’t tell me,” she said so softly he barely heard the thought.
He trembled, but was unable to reply. He was not allowed to have opinions on this topic. He should have surrendered to Ryliuk’s reconditioning for the thoughts he’d been having.
“Alan? Are you ready?” She connected a third mind to the anipraxic circle.
Dr. Alan Bergen’s mind was focused on a complex task, his body bent over a computer station. “Yep. Uploading now,” he said.
The Quasador Dux probed Ei’Brai’s thoughts, watching for something.
A bubble seemed to burst inside his mind. A chain reaction cascaded through him down to the tips of his tentacles. He gulped water, filling his mantle to capacity, trying to push away the strange sensation. He forced the water out again, jetting in an arc that took him back to where he’d started, except he didn’t hover or look away. He pulled himself upright and pressed the club of a tentacle to the glass against the spot where Jane had laid her hand.
She was smiling.
Gratitude swelled within him. He was too overwhelmed to say anything. But she heard hi
m.
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry we couldn’t wake you this way. The code wasn’t ready yet. I couldn’t wait a few more hours to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry I was selfish.”
“No apology is necessary,” he managed to say.
“Everything okay up there?” Alan asked testily.
Jane answered, “It couldn’t be better. You did it. It worked.”
“Glad to be of service. I got shit to do, though, so I’m out.” Alan removed himself from the anipraxic circle.
“I’m so glad to have you back, Brai.”
“Thank you,” he stammered, “for giving me back…”
“Yourself?”
“You note the difference?” he asked.
“I do. I prefer you this way.” He could tell she meant it.
He swelled a bit, reflexively. Then he extended tendrils of querying thought into the ship to check on the rest of his flock. All seemed to be well. The crew was at peace, working, sleeping, taking a meal. He centered back on Jane. “What did I miss?”
She chuckled, that human expression of humor that lit up her mind with pleasure. “Maybe you should ease back into it. Rest for a few days.”
He was a little affronted. “I feel no fatigue. I am poised for action.”
“Maybe I’m the one who needs to rest then,” she said with chagrin. She shifted her body to lean against the transparent wall that separated them, but she was smiling at him fondly. “It’s been a rough few days for me while you were asleep.”
“Tell me.”
It didn’t take much coaxing to get her to pour out her anxiety. It wasn’t just about him, though he was the largest part of it. And some things had taken a turn for the better. Tentatively she told him that her relationship with Alan had improved. She did not supply detail, but he could sense an effusive tenor of hope and delight in her. He made certain that she knew that he was happy for her. That surprised her, but also pleased her.
Then she tensed a little. “But I seem to have made a mess of my relationships with nearly every one of the sectilians.”
He skimmed the thoughts of each of the sectilians in turn. She watched, almost afraid of what he would find. “I sense no animosity toward you.”
She sighed.
“Tell me the specifics as you perceive them,” he said.
“I think you already know all the specifics. Nothing really changed. I botched my gift to Tinor and made her think…” She made a physical sound that indicated frustration. “Well, you know what she thought. That hurt her feelings, and Schlewan was really angry about it. Ryliuk is miffed because I won’t let him put you through reconditioning. I was forced to remind him of his place and I worry that he’ll resent that. Or that, I don’t know, that it won’t last? Pledor has been disgruntled since he set foot on the ship. I shouldn’t have shamed him when he got caught unawares by the nepatrox on the Greenspace Deck. Jaross is the only sectilian I haven’t offended in some way.”
“And what are the results of these gaffes?”
She looked weary. “Tinor avoids me. Schlewan and Ryliuk both seem to be more reticent. Pledor is gruff as always. Even Jaross seems more distant. I’ve failed to foster camaraderie. The crew isn’t gelling like I’d hoped. This is a terrible way to begin our journey together.”
“Ah. I see. You use the word ‘seem’ as though it means something.”
A furrow formed between her brows. She straightened. “What do you mean? Are you saying this is all in my imagination?”
“I believe that your worry is manifesting in a misinterpretation of the data. You are expecting human reactions from sectilian individuals. That is where the error lies.”
“But…” She sagged against the wall again.
“After your blunder with Tinor, you took steps to rectify and explain the cultural difference immediately. That satisfied Schlewan—she respected your straightforward manner and held no grudge. Tinor was disappointed because she admires you and wants to please you. She will attempt to stay beneath your notice until she can achieve something that will capture your attention. She is more concerned with this than about the mistake. This is natural.”
“Really?”
“Really. As for Ryliuk—he may not agree with you, but he absolutely believes in the validity of your authority, because that is what his culture dictates to him. He accepts your decision and will work within the boundaries you set for him. Sectilians, for the most part, are cooperative. They seek harmony. It is their way—the sharing of resources, of duty, of child-rearing. This is a significant aspect of their culture. From their point of view, these situations are long past over. Your dwelling upon them is fruitless.”
“Oh.”
“You know this. All of this.”
She tilted her face up. “Pledor and Jaross are the same, then?”
“You may not believe this, but Pledor is inordinately content. He spends all of his free time on the Greenspace Deck, which uniquely suits his personal skill set. Jaross, likewise, is satisfying an inner craving and very happy to be here.”
She nodded, mulling over his words. “I missed you, Brai.”
“I am indispensable.”
She laughed again. He could almost hear the tinkle of the sound transmit through to his enclosure. Then she turned more grave. “Brai, your health is important to me. You just reminded me that I think like a human, so don’t assume that I would manage your well-being as a sectilian Quasador Dux would. I understand how you were treated in the past, why you might believe that your needs would be ignored, but I’m different. I’m not them. You should have told me.”
He held her gaze. “Understood.”
“Good.”
“Shall we schedule the first jump?”
“Soon. I have another surprise for you first.” She had an impish look on her face. Her cheeks were pink. She had adopted a mysterious air and kept him from seeing her thoughts.
He harrumphed. “I look forward to it.”
* * *
Brai didn’t feel anything when Alan implemented the second change. Hours had passed and Brai was occupied with optimizing the formula for the impending jump sequences, managing several large squillae repair cadres, and having a conversation with young Tinor when Jane showed up again. She’d just spent a few hours with Alan, Jaross, and Ron on Tech Deck.
“Am I under surveillance?” he asked.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “How do you feel?”
“Eminently normal,” he replied cautiously.
“You’re not just saying that?”
“No,” he said dryly, though he supposed he deserved the question.
Her thoughts were excited, verging on giddy. “Well, then, move the ship.”
“Coordinates?” he asked absently as he connected to the navigation console through his implants, and shifted his body closer to the physical controls in anticipation of her command.
“I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. You choose.”
He jetted over to the partition between them and stared at her. “Do you jest?”
“Do I ever?”
He ground his beak as he made his way back to the console. Her anticipation was infectious. He contemplated the possibilities and opted for a small move to start—something just slightly beyond the scope the yoke had allowed him before—a correction of altitude of more than a vastuumet. The ship responded instantly—and without personal consequence. He experienced none of the punishment that a transgression of the yoke would have earned him in the past. He plotted a course that would break orbit and move them toward the fringes of the system, in preparation for a jump. Without linking through the Quasador Dux, the ship responded flawlessly to his command.
Twice in a single day she’d astonished him.
She caught that thought. “That’s payment enough for me,” she said.
46
Jane sat up straight in the command chair. She could feel the jump device spooling. The mechanical feeling of it hummed through both her an
d Brai, rising slowly in resonance. Her connection to Brai was so close in moments like these, their consciousnesses all but merged.
The Brai that Jane had known before the ship-wide squillae purge and the Brai she’d known afterward were now reconciled. He was happy. It came off him in waves and seemed to affect everyone on board in a positive way. Disabling the yoke and the code that crippled Brai mentally had been the right thing to do. She didn’t need to chain him, only to trust him. That was enough. The trust, she was certain, was mutual.
Alan sauntered onto the bridge and took his seat at the Tech Deck monitoring station. He sent her a meaningful glance and a slight nod. The rest of the crew began to filter in. Ryliuk was the last to arrive. He made his way to the communications station without saying a word.
Her bare-bones bridge crew was in place. They had a route planned, but they were going to have to think on their feet, depending on what they found when they arrived. They would start by looking for the ships closest to the Sectilius system and branch out from there.
It was finally time to begin the journey to find the lost kuboderans.
Their first target was a ship called the Quisapetta—“she who waits.” Its last known location was in an uninhabited system, where it had been doing scientific research on the composition of the system’s planets in an attempt to discover why some star systems were capable of supporting life, while others were barren. The Sectilius had been sending ships to this nearby system for thousands of years, collecting data over time. The Quisapetta was the same type of ship as the Speroancora, primarily a science vessel.
There was no information in the database about the Quisapetta’s Gubernaviti, Kai’Negli, other than the facts that he was over 1,000 years old, had a spotless record, and had risen to the highest rank achievable for a kuboderan—Kai. There were no notes about his personality or other achievements, despite the fact that there was plenty of information about the other officers who’d served aboard the Quisapetta—though Jane assumed those individuals were likely long dead. In moments they would know more.
Confluence 2: Remanence Page 28
