Cleon Moon

by Lindsay Buroker

  “What?”

  Abelardus changed the display so the second man popped up, the one who had walked out with the staff. “This is someone else who hasn’t been seen much in the last thirty years, but Naidoo knew who he was.” He fell silent, merely gazing at her.

  That uneasy feeling returned to her stomach. “What? Who is he?”

  “Stanislav Schwegler.”

  Alisa swallowed. Stanislav.

  “It’s not necessarily the same person,” she said slowly, the dedication on the title page in her mother’s book burning in her mind. “It’s not—”

  “Your father? We’d have to do a blood test to know for certain. I suppose we could go over those videos again and see if he left any blood spattered against the wall when the cyborg threw him around. Or maybe the doctor clawed at his eyes as he was being dragged out and got some skin under his nails.”

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  Alisa stared at the picture floating in the air above NavCom, the gray-haired man with a tidy gray beard. Was there a resemblance to her? Was that her father? Was it possible? And if so, was he truly in this organization of which Abelardus spoke? If so, why would her mother have fallen for someone like that? Or maybe that was why they had broken up all those years ago.

  “I’m getting us out of here,” Alisa said, sending her hands over the controls, somewhat comforted by the familiar routine, even if there was an odd little tremor to her fingers.

  “Where are we going?”

  “The doctor hasn’t told me yet, but somewhere with high-quality medical facilities, I’m sure.”

  The Nomad flew away from the docks and over the city buildings. Alisa waited for a challenge to come over the comm when the freighter approached the dome exit, but the forcefield lowered for them.

  Abelardus raised his eyebrows as they sailed out without hassle. “What did the cyborg do to win that woman’s regard?”

  Alisa resisted the urge to let her mind wander down labyrinthine corridors and into dark places. “I believe he was charming,” was all she said.

  “A charming cyborg? Sounds alarming.”

  “About as alarming as a charming Starseer.”

  Alisa pointed the Nomad toward the sky, more than ready to leave the moon.

  “Can you close that down?” she asked, nodding toward the image of Stanislav Schwegler hovering over the netdisc.

  “You don’t want to sit there and gauge the family resemblance? I think I can see it in the nose.”

  “I think you should be in sickbay with your brother, reading him bedside stories and chatting to him about the family.”

  “He’s unconscious.”

  “Perhaps news from back home will excite him enough to wake up.”

  And once awake, Durant could tell her where Jelena had gone, and there would be no need to go hunting for medical facilities. Alisa dreaded the idea of inadvertently heading off in the opposite direction from where the children had been taken.

  “Our home life was never that interesting,” Abelardus said, but he did close down his netdisc and leave NavCom.

  Alisa let out a breath and tried to relax her shoulders. As the misty gray marshlands of the moon receded, she hit the comm button.

  “Doctor?” she asked. “Have you decided on a route yet?”

  “Arkadius,” came the prompt reply.

  Alisa slumped. All the way back across the system to Arkadius? “None of Aldrin’s moons have the facilities you need?”

  “It’s possible, but I know for certain that Arkadius has state-of-the-art medical facilities with all the latest equipment. It also crossed my mind that the people who took the staff might take it to the Starseer temple there, since it seemed to be the core of their civilization.”

  “You’re the boss,” she said.

  “I know that’s not true.” Alejandro cut the comm.

  From what Abelardus had said, Alisa doubted the rogue Starseers would head to Lady Naidoo’s bosom. But maybe she was wrong. He had implied that some of his people might be talked into joining the cause if they had sufficient reason to believe it could work. Maybe the thieves would go home to recruit.

  Alisa shivered at the idea of the system being controlled by people who could wave their hands and kill others—or put them into comas. If nothing else, didn’t she have an obligation to warn the Alliance about this new threat? Of course, the Alliance ships stationed on Arkadius would not be happy with her after she had appeared to ally with the Starseers against them. Would they listen to her now?

  “When is my life going to get less complicated?” she muttered, glancing at the stuffed spider hanging over the passenger’s seat. There was nobody else there to talk to. “I just want to find Jelena, make chocolate with her, watch children’s vids together, and fly around the system delivering freight. Nice and simple. I’ll even deliver Beck’s chef’s mushrooms.” She didn’t mention Leonidas in her list of just-wants, afraid that might be wanting too much, right now. But she also did not plan on giving up on him.

  The dangling spider did not comment.

  The comm beeped again.

  “Alisa?” Leonidas asked. “Would you join me in the cargo hold when you’re free?”

  “Are you planning a date for us?”

  He hesitated, and she worried he would remind her of his insistence that they not date, that he was too dangerous.

  “I have something better for you,” he said.

  “Oh? My curiosity is suitably piqued.”

  A clang sounded over the comm.

  “I’ll be here for a couple of hours,” he said.

  “Be down soon.”

  They were already heading into a low orbit, so it did not take long for the Nomad to clear the moon’s influence. Alisa set a course for Arkadius, turned on the autopilot, and strode toward the cargo hold, pausing in the mess hall on the way. Beck had several pots gurgling on the stovetop, and he bent over one, stirring vigorously. Yumi and Mica sat at the table, playing a game of Banakka on someone’s netdisc and discussing the merits of psilocybins. At least, Yumi was discussing them. Mica was silently planning her next move. Alisa wondered if Yumi had tried out her own recently made concoction yet.

  “Has the doctor treated your wounds?” she asked Beck. Shouldn’t he be in sickbay instead of cooking? At least he had put on clothes—sort of. He wore his plaid pajama bottoms and a loose yellow shirt that reminded her of broken egg yolks.

  “He said to stop by soon, and I will. I just had a couple of ideas I want to try out. I’m preparing a box of sauces to ship to Chef Leblanc from—where are we going?”

  “Arkadius.”

  “Arkadius. Yes, excellent. They have a reliable postal system. This could be my big break, Captain.”

  Alisa would consider it a big break if their chat with the White Dragon brother panned out and the mafia stopped hunting him. She patted him on the back as she passed through.

  More clangs drifted up from the cargo hold as Alisa stepped out onto the walkway. A chicken squawked and ran past her, heading for the mess hall.

  “Escape artists,” she murmured, eyeing the coop in the corner.

  When she reached the top of the steps, Alisa spotted Leonidas. He had changed out of his armor and into his exercise togs, and set up a makeshift gym, using some of Mica’s spare engine room parts for weights. He was kicking and punching a set of battered hover pads with enough ferocity and speed to have developed a sweat. The computerized equipment zipped around, making difficult targets, but he never failed to connect.

  “Did you call me down here to watch you work out?” Alisa asked, ambling down the stairs.

  “No.” He launched a final flurry of blows at the pads, then lowered his arms and turned to face her.

  “Because I wouldn’t object, in case you were wondering.” She resisted the urge to openly admire his physique, since that reminded her too much of something that Solstice would do. Still, she couldn’t help but be aware of
it as he grabbed a towel and a netdisc off a bench.

  “I want to spend the trip training, in case we catch up with the Starseers who took the staff. Abelardus seemed to believe that would be a possibility. I don’t want to be knocked out and left for dead again.” He clenched his jaw and glowered at the deck in front of the hidden cubby. “While an invaluable artifact is stolen.”

  Alisa rested a hand on his arm. She hadn’t considered how he must have felt when he woke up and learned the staff had been taken. Like a failure.

  “I know the feeling,” she murmured. “I don’t know why I didn’t anticipate that there would be thieves—everyone wants that thing—and take stronger measures to protect it.”

  “It wasn’t your mission,” he said, perfectly willing to forgive her even if he wouldn’t forgive himself.

  She could feel the heat of his bare arm under her hand, the corded steel muscles. She was certain he hadn’t called her down to seduce her, alas. If she thought it would work, she would definitely try to seduce him. Or at least lick that vein snaking down his biceps.

  “It’s my ship,” she said. “I could have had Mica set some booby traps.”

  “I doubt booby traps would have stopped those men.”

  Men. One of whom was possibly Alisa’s father. She opened her mouth, on the verge of telling him, when he lifted the netdisc.

  “This is why I called you down,” he said. “To show you my bank account.”

  “Oh? Are you going to impress me with your cyborg riches?”

  Her hand fell away from his arm as he poked at the controls, but she stayed close, drawn to him, wishing he would also be drawn to her. One day, perhaps. If he pulled his head out of his ass and decided to find—or kidnap—help.

  “Solstice transferred the money for the dinosaur heads into my account,” he said, turning the holodisplay so she could see the columns.

  “Ah, you do have cyborg riches.” Riches that had come courtesy of Solstice. Alisa couldn’t tamp down a grimace. “You know that woman is going to expect a favor from you someday.”

  She kept herself from implying it would be a sexual favor, because that would be admitting to her own insecurities. And captains didn’t do that. Not wise, mature, comfortable-in-their-own-skin captains.

  Sometimes being mature was a pain.

  “Very likely,” he said, no hint of disagreement in his tone. “But in the meantime, we can use this. You brought down one of those dinosaurs with me and, I heard, another one fell to your marksmanship after I left. I want to transfer you the money for those two so you can buy combat armor when we get to Arkadius.”

  Her first instinct was to object, but she had shot those dinosaurs. And she did want combat armor. That sleek blue suit called to her.

  “Thank you. That’s a good idea. Then I’ll be protected enough to walk across a battlefield. Or to sleep with you.” She grinned up at him, not entirely serious, but she supposed it would be one way to make the situation work. When Beck had been armored during their sparring sessions, he had walked away after Leonidas had hurled him across the cargo hold and into bulkheads. “After you have the surgery that you will have,” she added. She’d kidnap that admiral herself if she had to.

  “It’s hard to cuddle under the blankets while wearing a hundred pounds of armor,” he said, not responding to the second comment.

  “Hard but not impossible? You know I like a challenge.”

  “Alisa…” He sighed and lifted his arm.

  Judging by the warning in his tone, she thought he might push her away or step away himself, but after a moment’s hesitation, he laid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. She went happily, resting her hand on his chest.

  “I appreciate your… you,” he said. “And it means a great deal that you care enough to want me to have what I thought I wished. But I’m afraid of what could happen if we…” He rested his chin against her head. “I wish I could have a future with you—and I want to choke Abelardus with his ridiculous braids every time he leers at you—but you should have someone who isn’t broken.”

  “Everyone’s broken in some way or another. If they aren’t, they haven’t led very interesting lives.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you again,” he whispered, and her heart ached at the emotion in his voice.

  How could she fix his guilt? Guilt that she was responsible for because she’d made a foolish choice. Perhaps logic would do what feelings couldn’t.

  “You still want to have children, don’t you?” she asked. “A family. That hasn’t changed, has it?”

  He hesitated. “What I want and what would be best for a family may not be the same thing.”

  Alisa leaned back so she could frown into his eyes. “You’re not giving up your dream, Leonidas. Not because I fell out of your bed. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have lay down with you. That was my choice.”

  “A child wouldn’t know the perils of making such choices. To hurt one would be even more unacceptable.”

  “So, we find a neurologist who can help you with the nightmares. There must be such a thing. And even if there’s not, that doesn’t mean you can’t have a family. You just don’t let yourself fall asleep with children draped over you. And your wife can wear her combat armor if she wants to sleep at your side.” She wasn’t sure why she spoke in terms of some hypothetical wife when she meant she wanted to sleep at his side. She was falling in love with him, if she hadn’t already, and she loathed the idea of anyone else having that spot. She would find a way to make this work; she swore it to herself.

  “What a bedroom life that would be,” Leonidas said. “I suppose there’s a reason cyborgs don’t have families.”

  “Yeah, because your asshole government wanted killing machines instead of fathers.”

  “I signed up for it willingly,” he said, lifting a hand to touch her cheek. Then he cleared his throat and stepped back, raising the netdisc again. “If everyone else is amenable, we’ll take the rest of the money and outfit the ship with weapons. Abelardus and the others did help with slaying the dinosaurs, so we’ll have to ask for their votes.”

  Alisa frowned again, completely uninterested in talking about weapons right now.

  “There’s something you need to know before we get back to business,” she said, pushing the netdisc down. “The Starseers who attacked you and stole the staff? One might be my father. The one who got away.”

  Leonidas arched his eyebrows.

  “Unless there’s some of his blood spattered on the deck somewhere, we can’t find out for sure,” she said, “but he has the name of the lover my mother had before I was born, and he looked about the right age. Abelardus says these people are part of some evil offshoot of Starseers who want to finish the mission their ancestors started centuries ago, taking over the system and ruling over humanity.”

  Alisa gazed up at him, almost defiantly, wanting him to know that she was responsible, if in a circuitous way, for him being hurt. Someone in her family had attacked him and would likely do so again if Leonidas tried to retrieve the staff. She wasn’t sure it was a logical argument, taking the blame for her father’s actions, but a broken wrist seemed nothing compared to a coma.

  “That should lead to interesting conversation topics at family dinners,” Leonidas said, lifting his eyebrows.

  That wasn’t the response she had expected.

  “Are you trying to be inappropriately funny?” she asked.

  “Yes. Did I not succeed? You’ll have to coach me on my delivery and timing.”

  She didn’t know whether to slap him or to hug him. The latter sounded much more appealing, so she slipped her arms around his waist and rested her forehead against his shoulder.

  “My life is a mess and nothing is working out how it’s supposed to,” Alisa said. The raw honesty wasn’t as easy to share as it had been when he had been unconscious, but he had become someone she felt she could confess to, and she needed someone she could be straight with. It was hard always
being the captain, keeping up a stoic facade even when she kept missing her mark, when Jelena kept slipping through her fingers. “I need someone to lean on. I need you. Don’t pull away before we even know…” She tightened her hug. “Just don’t pull away.”

  “I’m here,” Leonidas said, returning the hug. “And I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get her.”

  It wasn’t quite what she wanted from him—or not all that she wanted from him—but it had to be enough. For now.

  THE END

  Afterword

  Thank you for continuing to follow along with the Fallen Empire series, and thank you, too, for the reviews and for telling friends to try the books. Since they’ve been doing well, I’m able to justify taking my time with the story arc. I currently expect to finish the series in eight books, and I hope you’ll stick around for the conclusion. Things will be coming to a head in 6, 7, and 8. (Ahem, that wasn’t dirty.) (Unless you want it to be.)

  If you want to get in touch in the meantime, I’m often on Facebook and Twitter, and you can email me through my website. Thanks for reading!