her instruments 02 - rose point

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  He had made his decision, and having made it was resolved. But he also didn’t want to linger over the reasons he had to leave, and perhaps that was why he waited until they were nearly to the starbase to begin packing. He had few possessions—he could fit them all in one bag and one case—but with the exception of the clothes much of it required careful packing. Once it was done, he put the bag beneath his bunk with the case and surveyed the room. He had never regretted traveling light, but seeing how similar his room looked after having packed made him question his motivations for doing so. He had never expected to find another home, perhaps. Or to be comfortable anywhere for long.

  He didn’t expect that to change, even when he set foot again on the homeworld.

  The door alert sounding didn’t surprise him; he’d been awaiting this inevitable visit. But when he called permission, it was not Reese who stepped inside, but the twins. He stood to offer them the bed and took the remaining chair in the room. “Ariisen? What can I do for you?”

  They looked at one another, the light gliding off their tawny eyes. Then they sat; Irine slipped her hand into Sascha’s and the two of them looked at him, as attentive as children, and somehow as innocent. There was a softness to their auras, as if it could be as furred as their pelts.

  “We heard you had a rough time down there,” Sascha said without preamble.

  “And thought you might want to talk,” Irine added. She liked to pick at her tail when nervous, which explained why she was holding her brother’s hand instead. He could sense the greasy unease beneath the velvet, a viscosity so palpable he wondered if he could smooth it away.

  “That is a kind offer,” he said after a long moment. “But I would not be sure what there would be to talk about. I have mended, as you see.”

  “There’s mended, and there’s mended.” Irine’s ears flipped back, though her voice remained calm. “Some things don’t mend on the inside without help.”

  That was a striking bit of wisdom, and applicable, if not to the hurts they thought they were addressing. He inclined his head, trying to decide how to honor their concern and the friendship that had moved them to offer their aid while also preserving his privacy. He very much did not want to share his true fears with them, for he couldn’t imagine their feeling for him surviving the knowledge that he was now walking a path that had been opened by a mentally unstable mass murderer. At last, he said, “Do you know what sustained me?” He didn’t look up, but he could sense the sharpness of their attention. “The memories you wove into the gift you made me.” He lifted his head so they could measure the sincerity in his eyes. “It was truly without price, that gift. Your help was there.”

  “When you needed it,” Irine said.

  “Yes.”

  “If you’re sure…” She sounded reluctant.

  “Without question.”

  Sascha nodded. “If you ever want to talk, you know where to find us.” He grinned. “Just remember to knock.”

  He smiled at that. “Always.”

  As they left, he wondered at the colors their auras had shifted: from the greasy gray of fear to something hard and bright as diamonds. It felt like resolve, and one so powerful he wondered what they’d been inspired to do.

  “He’s going to bolt,” Sascha said, ears flat.

  Reese was sitting at the desk in her room, studying her data tablet. “I know.”

  “You know?” Irine said, startled.

  “Yes, I know.” Reese set the tablet aside and waved them in. “It doesn’t take a genius. Are you surprised?”

  Sascha didn’t answer, so his sister took up the conversation. “He’s put everything away,” Irine said. “The things on his table are missing. And he talked to us like… we were already out of his life.”

  “Because we are,” Sascha said, arms tightly folded. “The moment we dock, he’ll be on his way somewhere. But why? Do you think….” When he didn’t finish the thought, both Reese and Irine glanced at him. He looked away, grimacing. “Do you think maybe he blames us for not rescuing him in time?” Irine inhaled and he rushed on. “We’ve always managed to get to him before they could really hurt him before. But this time… this time we failed.”

  Reese hadn’t considered that possibility, but she discarded it instantly. “No. That’s not like him. It’s more likely he’d blame himself for anything that happened.”

  Irine frowned, thinking. “That is more in character. But I don’t get it. Why’s he leaving, Reese? Did he just get tired all of a sudden of being targeted? Or maybe he wants to settle down somewhere safer than with us?”

  But Sascha was staring at Reese, eyes narrowed. “You knew. What are you planning?”

  “I did know,” she said. She remembered a figure kneeling alongside a corpse, bent with more than physical pain. “And it’s not about us, or anything we did or didn’t do. He’s upset, and maybe he’s thinking straight or maybe he’s not, but wherever he’s going or whatever he’s doing, we’re not going to make him do it alone.”

  “I can get behind that,” Sascha said, ears flipping forward and spine straightening. “What’s the plan?”

  “I’m already working on my part.” Reese tapped the data tablet. “Your job is to make sure he doesn’t vanish into the crowd once we dock.”

  Irine peered at the tablet. “What’s your part?”

  “Making sure we can take him where he needs to go,” Reese said.

  “Which is where?” she asked, tail twitching.

  “Home,” Reese said. “Back to the Eldritch.” She met their eyes. “Talk to the others, all right? The more of you keeping track of him, the better.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am,” Sascha said, rising. He paused. “Um, Boss?”

  Reese sighed. “Let me guess. This is the part where you ask me the impertinent questions.”

  “She knows us so well,” Sascha said to Irine, who managed a weak smile. He turned his attention back to her. “How come?”

  “How come what?” She folded her arms.

  “You’re helping him,” Irine said. “A few months ago we had to talk you into just letting him stay. And now you’re chasing him? What changed?”

  What could she tell them when she didn’t even know herself? But her resentment at him for knowing her so intimately hadn’t survived seeing him brought so low. Had she been so worried about him hurting him? How could she sustain her anger when she saw what he’d been through? What he kept being put through? That look in his eyes when she’d first touched him in the tent...

  What had changed? She gave them the only answer that made any sense. “I did.”

  They looked at one another, then Irine smiled, a bright smile like sunlight and summer. Sascha grinned. “We’re on our part of it, Boss. You do yours.”

  “Get out already, then,” she said, but she was smiling.

  Once the twins had left, Reese turned back to her tablet. The message she was composing would be sent to an address she’d been given to use in emergencies. She knew very well that it wasn’t a real address, that her message would be received, encrypted, and bounced all over the Alliance before it reached its real recipient. But she’d stumbled into this relationship, and up until now it had been a one-way street. It was time to see whether there was any chance of reciprocation.

  She spent a long time going over the note, rewording it, occasionally checking with some of her romance novels to get the right flowery sound. When she replaced one word for the fourth time, she realized she was procrastinating and sent it off.

  To my patron—

  I have rendered my services faithfully and I hope you’ve been pleased with the results. The person you charged me to aid wants to return home, and I would like to apply for permission to bring him myself. I am also in possession of some trade items that might be of particular interest to you.

  I await your response, and hope for it to arrive before my charge makes alternate arrangements.

  Yours,

  Theresa Eddings

  In
two days, the Earthrise would reach the starbase. Reese hoped the Queen would get her an answer before then.

  Hirianthial was not aware of making any plans to prevent the crew from stopping him. He knew better than to look too closely at his own actions. To explain the reasons for his departure was impossible, and he knew if he told anyone he was leaving, he would not be able to hold fast in the face of their inevitable pleas not to go. But go he must, so as much as he hated to do it, he did not disembark the moment the Earthrise settled safely at its assigned docking bay. No, he waited, accepted the disbursed pay along with the rest of the crew, and watched them scatter for the city beyond the port. As he expected, Reese headed back into the ship; she paused at the airlock and said, “Off to enjoy the sights?”

  “It would be good to walk a while,” he said.

  Her gaze was considering; she looked not only at his eyes but his face, as if seeking something... or memorizing him? He found it an unusually incisive expression, and yet her aura was liquescent with sorrow over a very steady core.

  What was she thinking? And how ironic that she had told him she feared him knowing her thoughts. Without consciously choosing to seek them, he had only the information granted him by her emotional state, and often all that did was intensify the mystery.

  “Well,” she said, smiling. “Have a good walk, then. Stretch the legs out. You won’t have a chance again for a while.... I plan to button up and head out again within a few days.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  Her eyes lingered on him for another heartbeat, and then she turned her back on him, very deliberately, and walked into the ship.

  It disturbed him that this should be his last memory of Theresa Eddings: an enigma he now would never know the answer to, one he sensed was changing in a way he might ordinarily have found intriguing. He fought the urge to follow her and investigate. Instead, he brought his bag and case out from one of the storage lockers lining the corridor and strode away, toward the kaleidoscope of light and activity, the emotional noise of thousands of people intermingling.

  He would have to use the trip to decide what to do with himself once he arrived. His instinct was to go to his cousin—no matter the circumstances surrounding their parting—but doing so would involve navigating a court crowded with arrivals for the winter season. Given his notoriety, he wasn’t looking forward to it. But his choice was that, or to go back to Jisiensire and the memories waiting in eager ambush there.

  There was nothing for it. He needed help.

  Somewhere nearby there would be a place he could buy an encrypted comm stream. After that, he should be contacted within an hour or so. He’d have enough time to eat and then he’d be crossing another airlock and on the way.

  “Come on,” Reese whispered to her tablet. She forced one of her hands to stay on Allacazam’s fur, and through it she sensed his attempt to calm her down. It came in the form of a slow glowing field of colors in the back of her head, and all it did was split her concentration and give her the beginnings of a headache. “Come on, I’m running out of time here.”

  The intercom interrupted her. She smacked it with the side of her hand. “Tell me.”

  “It’s fine, Boss. We’re following him.”

  She pursed her lips. “I hope you’re not in plain sight.”

  “Aw, Angels, Boss... we’re not complete amateurs. We’re doing our best not to be conspicuous.”

  That sounded ominous. The Harat-Shar were never inconspicuous, Bryer was a Phoenix and easily spotted in the typical crowd of Pelted, and Kis’eh’t took up more room than a bipedal.

  They were what she had to work with. And abruptly, it was fine. She found herself smiling at the intercom. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it when I don’t see you.”

  “Good try there. You’re not getting rid of us so easy—”

  Her tablet chirped. “I’ve got to go. Keep following him!” She switched the intercom off on his promise and spread the message that had just leaped into her queue.

  You will be met at the airlock by a representative. Godspeed, and we look forward to meeting you at last.

  “Yes!” Reese shouted. And then stopped. “Wait, met at the airlock?”

  Allacazam sent a quizzical buzz and then an alarmed jangle of colors and squeaks when she scooped him up and trotted toward the door. Did the Queen really mean her airlock? Right here? As in—

  She stopped at the sight of a Tam-illee foxine waiting expectantly at the threshold, wearing a bright smile, perked ears, and a dark blue uniform piped in silver that looked a lot like livery but from no association Reese recognized. The emblem at her breast was an upside-down U with two ears. Behind her were a pair of Tam-illee in the same uniform, standing in front of two crates.

  “Captain Eddings?” the woman said. “I’m Malia Navigatrix. I’ve been sent to help you prepare your vessel for a trip.”

  “You have?” Reese said, startled.

  “By the Matriarch of the Amacrucian Church,” the Tam-illee agreed, serious now.

  “You have. You really...” Reese trailed off. The logistics of what was happening... it suggested a network of communication and people she couldn’t even begin to fathom. But then again, her patron was the queen of a planet, and one not a member of the Alliance but an actual allied state. What did Reese know about the resources of queens?

  “Please, come in,” she said firmly. “Tell me what needs to be done. I’m guessing something has to be, from the crates.”

  “Nothing you’ll object to, I don’t think,” Malia said. “But yes, let’s discuss it.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Leading the team of Tam-illee inside, Reese grinned. For once, she’d managed to outflank the Eldritch. She was looking forward to seeing his reaction. In the crook of her arm, Allacazam turned an amused orange and sounded a victorious bugle in her mind.

  Hirianthial’s needs were far less strenuous than the last time he’d made a comm call; buying the security needed to reach his world directly was far more costly than using the sector drop-code to summon the Queen’s couriers. Hirianthial paid for the use of a secure facility, but once he’d been ushered into the room assigned him, it was the work of only a few minutes to set up contact and request a meeting. After that, he shouldered his bag and case and went to the address he’d been given: a park, and a lovely one. He sat on a bench with his luggage at his feet and leaned back to enjoy the light, which while artificial was real enough to fool his skin.

  The approaching aura drew his attention long before he heard footsteps in the grass: a brisk sunny yellow, shimmering. He opened his eyes and found a Tam-illee foxine standing before him in his cousin’s livery, complete with the horseshoe emblem at the shoulder. It had amused Liolesa to brand her offworld courier service with an obsolete-to-them mode of transport... but they themselves had suggested decorating it with stylized fox ears, to imply the generations of Tam-illee who had sworn themselves to her service through another Jisiensire, Lesandural Meriaen.

  “Lord Sarel Jisiensire? I am Theodore ChartsStars. I’m here to see you to your vessel. May I take your bag?”

  The foxine had known not to offer for the case, of course; they were well-trained, and proud of that training. To deny him the chance to render his services would be uncouth, though Hirianthial was quite capable of carrying both himself. “Please, and thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Lord. This way, if you will.”

  Hirianthial took up the case and followed the todfox. The vessels the Queen’s Tams employed were very similar in make, private couriers, swift, dangerous and able to dust themselves with the latest in concealment technologies. He anticipated going back to the homeworld in a ship very much like the one he’d left in. It didn’t concern him overmuch that he recognized the path they were taking: the vessel was no doubt in the civilian dock somewhere, just like the hundreds of others visiting the starbase. It wasn’t until he turned into the bay and saw the entire crew of the Earthrise awaiting him at the airlock al
ong with two other of the Queen’s Tams that he stopped short.

  “Hi!” Reese said, arms folded. Her nonchalance didn’t fool him at all: she was, undeniably, smug. “We’re your ride home.”

  “I’ll bring your bag to your quarters,” his guide said, and hopped into the airlock.

  The foxine female—the company’s senior from the uniform design—inclined her head and said, “My lord. It will be a pleasure,” before turning to her subordinate and saying, “See to the final tests, please.”

  “I didn’t think the Tams used private vessels,” Hirianthial said to her.

  Unfazed, she replied, “My lord, the Queen’s Tams use whatever vessels she deems appropriate.” She bowed and then followed her subordinate inside.

  ...which left him with his friends, and he didn’t know where to begin.

  Kis’eh’t said, “It’s good to have you back. I’m cooking dinner using my fancy new skills, courtesy of Sascha’s mother. No toast this time. Don’t be late.” She smiled and hopped into the ship.

  Bryer eyed him but said nothing; he wouldn’t. But he expected a remonstrance from the twins, particularly since he could sense their hurt beneath the pleasure of seeing him again. Because he was expecting the remonstrance, Sascha’s actual question struck hard and deep. “Was it something we did? Did you think you couldn’t trust us to help you?”

  “I... it was the furthest thing from my mind,” Hirianthial said. “Never, arii. It is only that I had a need and did not think the Earthrise could fulfill it.”

  Irine grinned. “I hope that’s the last time you underestimate Reese.” She tugged at Sascha’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go keep an eye on the foxes.”

  As they vanished into the corridor, Reese called after them, “That better mean ‘keeping an eye on them’ and not ‘distract them with sex!’” Irine’s giggle trailed after her, a hollow echo.