“What the hell is that?” Adam, behind him, sounding sleepy but awake enough to be confused.
Completely bewildered, Lochlan stared at the console as if it could tell him something, and called up the sender ID. Blank. “Khara, sender’s blocked. Whoever they are, they don’t want anyone identifying them.”
“So what’s the message mean?” Adam moved to stand next to him, glancing down at the ID, one hand at the small of Lochlan’s back. “I … It sounds like some kind of code. Takamagahara.” He glanced at Lochlan, his eyes wide. “You think it’s … for us? Lock, who even knows we’re out here?”
“No one. No one should.” Except how sure was he of that? How sure did he have cause to be? They had been careful, but their faces had been seen, and if anyone had had reason to recognize them …
But this didn’t feel like Protectorate. It was too … Well, it was too nonsensical, for one. Though Lochlan was certain, the more he considered it, that there was sense behind it, however elusive.
“‘Sender is plain orbiting body,’” Adam echoed, settling himself into the pilot’s seat and peering at the transcript of the message. “What could that … Takamagahara.” He was quiet for a few moments, then lifted his head. “What was orbiting the planet?”
“When?”
“When the battle happened. There were Bideshi homeships … And there were also Protectorate ships.” He looked back at Lochlan, eyes wide and his gaze sharpening. “Bideshi wouldn’t send a message like this. What reason would they have to be so cloak-and-dagger? Lock … What if this is coming from someone inside the Protectorate?”
Lochlan frowned. He had disregarded the idea as a bit improbable, but it made a kind of sense, as much sense as anything else made at the moment. “You think it’s a trap?”
“I don’t know.” Adam closed his eyes. “If that part is referring to the Protectorate, it could also mean someone who was on one of those ships. I don’t know why they wouldn’t have contacted us before, but who knows what’s happened to them since.”
His mismatched eyes snapped open, bright and excited. “So … It could be Kyle. My friend, you remember? Or Eva Reyes, the woman who was with him. Even Bristol Aarons, though I don’t think that’s likely. Or …”
“That commander,” Lochlan finished, as the memory came to him. “Kerry or something, wasn’t it?” He had seen the man only briefly and had found his gruffness off-putting rather than possessed of the ornery charm it might have had in a Bideshi. But Kerry had seemed genuine in his desire for peace, and had kept the truce until the Protectorate fleet departed. He had even assisted in sorting through the dead and wounded of both sides, making sure that people—and bodies—were returned to their proper ships.
“Yes. Kerry.” Adam frowned. “Okay, so leaving aside identity for a minute … What’s the rest of the message? What’s its actual purpose?”
“‘The word is Takamagahara,’” Lochlan mused. He leaned over the pilot’s seat, his attention momentarily caught by a scatter of light from the prisms that dangled over the console. The rainbow specks were almost like stars across the darkness of the console’s face, moving slightly as the prisms swung in Volya’s gentle vibrations.
Stars.
“Takamagahara is a place.” He set his hand under the lights, watching them slide across its brown back. “Is it telling us to go somewhere?”
“To Takamagahara?” Adam appeared to consider, then shook his head. “It can’t be. If the rest of the message is that obscure, why would the location be so blatant? If it seems to be giving us specific directions it has to be referring to something else.” He paused, then slapped a hand on the console’s face so abruptly that Lochlan jumped.
“Khara, Adam, what’re you—”
“What if we converted the letters of the name into numbers? In Standard, in terms of position in the alphabet.” He was already doing it, fingers darting over the touch screen. “It’s actually really basic, it could be wrong … But it’s still worth a …” He shifted his gaze to the set of numbers softly glowing on the screen. “Are those coordinates? They are, aren’t they?”
“I’ll be damned three times over.” Lochlan grinned, sudden and wide. For all the trouble he had slung Adam’s way at first, for all the hard time he had given him, he had always known the man was sharp. “You’re quite something, chusile.”
Adam breathed a quiet laugh. “You’re with me, aren’t you? Seriously, though, it’s not that complicated. Like I said, it’s not even that secure. Anyone could probably figure it out if they had any context for it, though I guess it would be a lot harder to identify the sender if you didn’t know about the battle.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, brow furrowed, and Lochlan realized that it was the first time in a long time that Adam really seemed like himself again. Keen, alert, ready to move on something.
On impulse he swung the chair around, hooked a hand behind Adam’s neck, and pulled him up and in, sealing their mouths together. Adam tensed, but then relaxed under him with a low groan, lifting a hand to grasp at Lochlan’s dreadlocks.
“What was that for?” he murmured, when Lochlan pulled away enough to let them catch their breath. Lochlan smiled.
“Don’t ask questions, you stupid raya. I like seeing you like this, is all.”
Adam gave him a quizzical look, but he was still smiling, warm and happy. “So … I guess we go to the coordinates, then.”
“You trust them?”
“Not really. Not sure I’d trust anything right now.” He glanced back at them, lips moving silently as he mouthed the numbers. “Shit, there’s Skyler, though. What’s she going to do if we cut out on her? Do we want to cut out on her? We could still make the run through the patrol route.”
Lochlan shook his head. “You think you can just ignore this? Act like we never got it at all?”
“No. All right. We should contact Skyler. Unless you think we should go to slipstream.”
“Not very polite. I liked her. Anyway, she has our money for doing basically nothing. How mad could she be?”
Adam shot Lochlan a wry smile. “I don’t suppose she’d give us a refund—I guess I should let you do the talking this time?”
“Oh, stop; I said I was sorry.” Some of the words were teasing. Some of them weren’t. He was sorry. It wasn’t as though the outburst was unlike him, but he could tell when it was fairly justified and when it wasn’t. “But yeah. I should.” He leaned over farther—and then almost as if it were an accident, he slid backward into Adam’s lap.
Adam let out a breath and a laugh that was dangerously close to a giggle. “What the fuck— You’re heavy.”
“You can take it.” He rocked his hips back as he engaged the comm. It wasn’t the time, not when something this huge and potentially dangerous had been dumped in front of them, but it was always dangerous now, and he could finally feel the better edges of the risks again. He had always been able to enjoy those edges before: the joy of daring, of being foolish, of running high both in slipstream and in life, and slipping away just as the jaws of danger began to close on you.
He understood that a great deal of that had been childish. But childishness had its place. It was worth holding on to.
“Whatever.” Adam wrapped his arms around Lochlan’s middle, shifting beneath him and resting his cheek on the center of Lochlan’s back. “Make the call and get us out of here.”
Skyler had clearly been asleep before she answered their hail; her hair was tousled and she swiped a hand down her face. “What the hell? We’re not going anywhere for almost another hour. Told you to leave me alone until then.”
“Yes, well.” Lochlan leaned forward, giving the screen one of his most charming smiles. He wondered if Adam was visible from behind him, and mused on what an odd picture that would make. “There’s been a bit of a change in plans. We won’t be heading through the patrol route after all. We’re needed elsewhere.”
Skyler raised an eyebrow. She appeared less groggy now. “What
about your shipment?”
“That’s why the plans have changed,” Lochlan said smoothly. “New drop point. More convenient, really. Regardless, we appreciate how willing you were to lend us your expertise.”
“Whatever, you fucking paid me.” Skyler eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re not planning to ask me for the five thousand back. I still spent all this time out here. Regardless of whatever else is going on, that deserves compensation.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. It’s yours.” Lochlan batted at Adam’s hand—which had begun to drift below his waist—but without any real determination. “Thanks again. Maybe we’ll cross paths another time.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Skyler allowed him a faint smile. “You’re interesting. Clear skies to you, and don’t get yourselves killed.”
“We’ll try our best.” Lochlan tipped her a salute. “Safe flying.”
The screen went dark, and Lochlan relaxed back against Adam’s chest, sighing as Adam reached between his legs and curled his fingers around what he had been searching for. “Line and orbit, you … No blushing flower anymore, are you?”
“I’m alive,” Adam murmured against his spine, his hand caressing. “Counts for a lot.”
Lochlan laughed and spread his legs wider, trying to keep his own hands steady as he plotted the ship’s new course. He managed to focus long enough to get them into slipstream, and then turned around and settled himself back into Adam’s lap with his hands on Adam’s chest and moving downward, parting Adam’s lips with his own. No, this was definitely not the time. But this was something they had to seize whenever they could, now.
He had an awful suspicion that soon, these times might be fewer and further between.
“How will we know they’ve taken the bait?” Alkor shot Sinder a skeptical glance. “If they’re even really out there.”
“They’re out there.” Sinder didn’t return the look. His attention was fixed on the main screen, which was displaying a sensor sweep in all directions, as far as the ship’s array could reach. The other, smaller ships in the fleet were arranged at distance. All together, they would see anything in the vicinity. “We wait. The message is cycling. If they receive it, they’ll come.”
Alkor still looked unconvinced. She shifted from foot to foot where she stood beside Sinder, restless. The bridge crew went about their work, calm and orderly, but Sinder could sense their anticipation as well. The details of the immediate plan had been largely kept from the rest of the crew, and the other ships knew even less, but they were all aware that something was happening. That they were waiting for someone.
Let Alkor wallow in her unease. In the end, she’d have to kiss Sinder’s ring.
“How is our guest?”
Alkor grimaced. “Alive. You did a number on him, but the medic doesn’t seem to think there will be any permanent damage. He can’t walk, though. He hardly has any control over his limbs at all. If you want him to play his part, you’re either going to have to have him carried up here or you’ll have to go to him.”
“You’re speaking as if that weren’t easily done.” Sinder didn’t spare her his scorn. He caught the eye of one of the bridge crew, a sandy-haired young man with a cold air about him. “Contact the sick bay. Have them send a grav-lift to the brig for Commander Kerry and bring him up here ASAP.” He allowed himself a smile. “Tell them to be careful with him; we need him in top shape. He has an important job to do.”
The man nodded and turned back to his console, leaning in and speaking into the comm. Sinder focused his attention back on the sensor display. If the target of their message was anywhere in the sector, they would be here soon.
And everything would be ready.
They came out of slipstream into a snake pit.
“Khara.” Lochlan gaped. For a moment it was all he appeared able to do. Then he twisted Volya hard to the side, and Adam was beside him in an instant, staring out the window.
All his blood drained into his feet.
Ships. Protectorate. Five of them, spread out across his entire field of vision—and probably behind. They were likely surrounded. Adam lifted a hand to his mouth, silent, numb. Perhaps part of him had been expecting this for some time.
“He fucked us,” he said, his tone even and calm. “Whoever sent that message, the bastard completely fucked us. Didn’t he?”
“Looks that way.” Lochlan sounded terse, too focused and too tense to really be angry. The anger would surely come later, if they lived that long. They were flying in a complex evasive pattern, swinging back and forth and doing wide loops in the center space between the ships. Only there wasn’t, as yet, anything to evade. “It’ll take me another minute to cycle the drive back up. Why aren’t they shooting at us? Why don’t they just blow us out of the fucking sky?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I—”
The comm chimed softly, and they both froze. They were being hailed. That was something.
Every second they stalled was a chance to escape.
Lochlan hit receive. “So I couldn’t help noticing we’re not in a lot of very small pieces.”
“No. You’re not.” No visual. Only audio. The voice was unfamiliar, but clearly Protectorate. It wasn’t just its source; it was the tone itself, a tone so often heard from Protectorate authorities: quiet arrogance, implicit conviction that the speaker was better and more worthy of life than whoever was being spoken to. Melissa Cosaire had had that tone until she had begun to fall apart at the end. Adam wondered if there had ever been a time when he had sounded like that.
Lochlan was smiling grimly. “That’s a start. You want to explain why?”
“You must be Lochlan d’Bideshi. The file on Yuga indicated that you might be together. Excellent.” There was a short pause, then the voice went on. “My name is Isaac Sinder. I’m an executive with the United Terran Commerce Authority and a liaison to this peacekeeper reconnaissance fleet. I’m authorized to bring you into custody by whatever means are necessary, but believe me, gentlemen, I’m not interested in firing on you. Killing you, even by accident, isn’t an attractive prospect. Give yourselves up peacefully, and you have my word that neither of you will be harmed.”
Lochlan barked a bitter laugh. “You must be joking. You expect us to believe that? When has the Protectorate ever not harmed someone when they had the chance? You assholes live by harm. It’s what you do.”
“Nevertheless.” Sinder’s tone was unshaken, politely relentless. The politeness jabbed at Adam, and he almost hissed aloud. That had been one more vicious part of the Protectorate’s poison—of Cosaire’s poison—and it made his skin want to crawl off his bones. “I don’t want to harm you at this time. I’m offering you a chance to end this without bloodshed.”
“No way.” He couldn’t be seen, but Adam shook his head anyway. “You can try to shoot us down, if you want to see some of the best flying in the galaxy, and you know the Bideshi, you know that’s not a bluff.”
“Yes. I do. Perhaps this, then. There’s someone who would like to speak to you.”
For a moment, there was nothing on the comm channel. Then, very faintly, a broken voice slurred, “Yuga?”
“Holy shit,” Adam whispered. “That’s Commander Kerry.”
He wasn’t all that familiar with the man, not enough to be certain about the voice—especially not like this, raw and hoarse and cracking. But he knew, all the same. It was Kerry.
And he didn’t think Kerry would sound like that if he had wanted to betray them.
Lochlan looked sharply at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. That’s him. Kerry? Kerry, what happened?”
A cough, rasping and harsh. Then, “I’m sorry, Yuga. They got me. Broke me down. I tried. I swear, I tried.”
“They tortured him.” Adam closed his eyes as new ice flooded his veins. They tortured him because of me. “Lock …”
When he opened his eyes, Lochlan was shaking his head, reaching out for him. “Adam, no, don’t—”
“Yuga?” Sinder again, and Adam clenched his teeth as the ice turned to rage. The kind of rage that came when the last edges of resistance were wearing away. He was aware, now, that he was going to give in, even though Lochlan might hate him for it. Because he knew what Sinder was going to say.
“He’s hurt, Yuga, as I’m guessing you can tell. He’s a brave man, but even brave men have their breaking point. If you don’t surrender in the next five minutes, I’ll make him hurt as much as I can. And you’ll listen to it happen. And if you outfly us, you’ll still know what I did, and that you might have stopped it. You’ll live with that. However much longer you have.” He paused again, and when he spoke next, Adam could hear the thin smile in his voice. “Yes, you could turn off the comm. But I think we both know you won’t. A lot of other people died because of you, didn’t they? From what I know of your nature, that’s not sitting easy with you. You may be a traitor, you may be a pervert and a degenerate and an enormous genetic mistake, and you may be dangerous to everything that we’ve built. But I don’t think your heart is that cold.”
The world blurred in front of Adam. He could feel Lochlan’s hands on his shoulders, but he could no longer see him. How did Sinder know? How did he know what hearing that would do?
How did he know that was true?
“Don’t listen to him,” Lochlan was saying. “Adam, he’s fucking with you, don’t—”
“You couldn’t save all those people on that planet, Yuga. You can’t save anyone. Except this one man. That’s the gift I’m giving you.” He cleared his throat, becoming businesslike again. “You have four minutes to think it over. I’ll be in touch.”
The channel clicked off. There was silence.
“You can’t do it.” Lochlan’s voice was small, hard, caught between icy and blazing with anger. Adam wasn’t sure he had ever heard that tone from him before. “Adam … He’s lying. He’ll kill him anyway, and then he’ll kill us. You remember Cosaire, you remember what she was like … How many people died on the Plain because she couldn’t let you go?”
Fall and Rising Page 6
