by Mara Gan
I smiled. “Hello, Dr. Remy.”
“How have you been, Princess?” he asked kindly, flashing his pen light in my eyes.
I liked Dr. Remy. Despite being a doctor and therefore my ultimate nemesis, he was a kind, elderly man with a soothing voice and beautiful gold eyes. I had been required to see him a lot when I first arrived on Galaxia, as Synie and Kos were constantly worried I was getting sick. They thought I was too small, underweight, too pale, blah blah blah. I wasn’t, but I had finally convinced my panicky protectors to be—well, less protective.
Then I’d started playing Dískos and had been in to see Dr. Remy quite a bit more.
“I’ve been well, thank you,” I replied. “How am I this time?”
“You look fine.” He smiled, but his gold eyes were tinged with concern as he glanced at my Protector. “I understand someone tried to kill the princess?”
“I’m afraid so,” Perseus replied.
“Did you catch him?”
“Yes, but little good it does us; he was drugged and seems to have no memory of the incident. Meda even knows him.”
Dr. Remy shook his head, writing on his chart. “I hope this assassin business gets solved soon,” he said, his face pinched with anxiety. I was grateful for the painkillers in my system, because I could tell he was amped up with nervous energy right now. Nervous energy always made my stomach churn, kind of like having butterflies in it—only I got everyone’s butterflies, all at once, in addition to my own permanent horde. “I don’t like worrying about you, Princess. I would much rather this were just another Dískos injury.”
“Dískos?” Perseus interrupted, frowning. “What is this Dískos I keep hearing about?”
“It’s a game,” I answered, before Dr. Remy could say anything that would get me in trouble. I definitely did not need him knowing more about my favorite pastime. “Can I go home soon?” I was anxious to get back to the huge to-do list I had for the upcoming trip and all the petitions I had to organize from today.
Plus, I had to feed Myrtilos.
Dr. Remy shook his head. “Your head injury looks superficial, but I’d like to keep you overnight for observation.” As I opened my mouth to protest, he said, “Standard procedure for all head injuries, Princess.”
“But I hate sleeping here,” I grumbled. “It’s so sterile, so uncomfortable. And I really have a lot to do—”
He laughed. “It’s just for one night, Princess,” he said easily. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“Are you sure I can’t go home?” I asked wistfully. “Someone could stay with me, watch over me there—”
“Just listen to the doctor, would you?” Perseus said, showing rare exasperation. “It’s hardly a big deal.”
Dr. Remy winked at him. “I do not envy you the job you have taken on, Protector.” He nodded to me. “I will come back to check on you and release you in the morning. In the meantime, these monitors will let someone know if something is wrong, and a nurse will be in to check on you once in a while.”
I sighed. “Alright.”
“Good night, Princess.”
I nodded glumly, picking at the blanket. “Good night, Dr. Remy. And—thank you.”
He smiled and slipped out of the room.
Perseus watched me, arms folded, considering. I gave an annoyed sigh. “What?”
“No offense, Princess,” he said, “but I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t trust me?” I asked, frowning. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I think you’ll try to leave once I’m gone.”
I brightened. “Are you leaving?”
He scowled. “I know my company is hardly something to relish, but I have other business to attend to.”
“I apologize; I did not mean to be rude,” I said, sitting back against the pillows. “I didn’t mean it that way. What business do you have?”
“Nothing illegal, Princess. You needn’t concern your pretty head with my behavior,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Protecting you is a full-time job.”
“Then what other business could you have?”
“Our prisoner, of course.”
“Nural?”
“That would be the guy.” Perseus pulled something out of his pocket. “I will be back in the morning to escort you home. In the meantime, here’s an MCD if you need me for anything.”
I grimaced, taking the hated device but already planning my escape. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure you will, but I’ll feel better knowing you have this. And,” he added, “you should know I’m going to lock your door.”
I gaped. “You don’t trust me!”
“I believe I just said as much.”
He quirked his eyebrow at me as he slipped out of the door. I heard a click as he slipped the lock in place.
I managed to contain my smile until he left. I didn’t think he got surprised very often, but I was pretty sure he was about to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“How the hell did you get out of there?”
I blinked in the bright lights shining down on me and squinted up at the large, angry form of my Protector, his features shielded by the lights behind him. Kos was behind him, his features also hidden in shadow. That was kind of a metaphor for Kos, though.
Perseus too, I supposed.
“Ugh,” I groaned, leaning back against my pillows and throwing an arm over my face. “What time is it?”
“A little before 3:00 a.m.,” Perseus growled. “Do you know the worry you’ve caused us? Now tell me how you got out of that hospital room!”
I yawned. “I picked the lock.”
“You… picked the lock?” he repeated slowly.
I nodded. Picking locks was something of a hobby, and I would undoubtedly feel immense satisfaction in the morning, but I was not someone who came awake quickly and all I wanted now was to succumb to sweet, sweet sleep.
“Where did you learn how to pick locks?”
I closed my eyes, pulling the blankets up to my chin. “Years and years ago. The hospital doesn’t even use a complicated lock; just a simple SG-97 device, and you didn’t even deadbolt it. I should be insulted. A big-time mercenary like you can do better.”
Perseus snorted. “I didn’t know I was dealing with a professional.”
“Kos could have told you that.”
Perseus turned to look at Kos, who shrugged, clearly attempting to hide his amusement. “We gave up trying to lock her in anywhere years ago,” he confirmed. “She merely took it as a challenge.”
“Can I go back to sleep now?” I asked, eyes closed. I turned onto my side and curled up, cradling the blanket under my cheek.
“Of course, Princess,” Perseus replied, a warning note in his voice. “But I’m staying. And the next time you decide you don’t like staying put, I would strongly suggest that you tell me, lest I really lose my temper.”
I nodded, yawning and snuggling deeper into my blankets. “Duly noted.”
I awoke several hours later, feeling surprisingly refreshed after a night of real sleep. I stretched and ambled into the living room, where Erie had her feet propped up on the coffee table and was reading a data pad.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked.
She looked up. “Probably.”
“He… didn’t say anything?”
“Does he ever?” Erie yawned and stretched as she set her pad down. “He’s not exactly the most forthcoming man I’ve ever met. But I’d say he was pretty peeved.”
“Peeved is a relative term with him,” I said dryly. “Actually, that might almost mean he’s in a good mood.”
“What, precisely, did you do this time?”
I sat on the couch and propped my feet up on the ottoman. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No. Just called me at some ungodly hour this morning and said you needed a babysitter.”
I scowled. “He said that?”
“There were a few more curse words to color the phrases, but that was the gist
.”
“I hardly did anything that bad.”
“Still waiting, Princess.”
“It was nothing. He locked me in the sick room because he didn’t trust me to stay, so I picked the lock and came home.” I shrugged.
Erie burst out laughing. “Oh, is that all?” She laced her fingers behind her head and leaned back, crossing one leather-clad leg over the other. “That’s nothing. Didn’t anyone tell him you were an expert?”
I grinned impishly. “Obviously not.” I eyed her curiously. “I thought the rules said you weren’t allowed to be my guard unless it was an official function.”
Erie shrugged. “Officially, I’m off duty and here as a friend,” she replied, picking up her pad again. “But I’m under the impression that Perseus cares little for the rulebook anyway.”
I flopped back against the pillows. “That, I’ve noticed. But why you? Why not Egil or Kenzi? Or even Gi?”
“Not sure,” she answered, eyes on her reading. “I think he and Kenzi are questioning Nural, but I don’t know about Gi or Egil. You’re stuck with me until Callie and Clee get here to escort you to your conference with the NTA.” She looked up. “And before I forget, Boss said you’re restricted to your rooms unless you leave with one of us.”
“So he is peeved.”
“Relative term, Princess.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Callie and Clee escorted me into the conference room, Callie entering first and Clee entering last, looking carefully behind her as she slid the door shut. I noted Callie had dyed her hair again. It was now a vibrant orange, which would never look good on anyone but her.
I suspected, though, that it only looked good because of Callie herself. She had such an air of confidence, one I envied, one that said she really didn’t care if anyone else liked how she looked—because she did, and that’s what mattered. I silently applauded her for that.
Nia, Eute, and Thal were already seated around the table. Thal had her feet up on the table as she sharpened her dagger. Her long, graceful tail was draped over her chair, flicking back and forth, indicating that she was deep in thought. Her silver armband shone against her smooth, dark brown skin, and her long black hair fell in a braid down her back. With her prehensile tail she was easily one of the most acrobatic fighters on the Mousai, but she usually preferred cracking jokes and playing games to anything else. Thal may have been wearing her warrior outfit, as she usually did, but she had once again refused to put shoes on. She claimed shoes were for amateurs, whatever that meant.
Synie sat at the head of the table, pads and documents spread out in front of her. All the Mousai were dressed in their typical black tunics and leather pants, unintentionally reminding me of their supreme warrior skills.
Planning meetings like this was always a trip. The Mousai were, uh, untamed, to say the least; despite being experts in administration and imperial guardianship, they tended to fight among themselves the way sisters would.
If sisters were armed with various sharp objects, anyway.
The NTA ambassador had agreed to set up a conference with me, but only if it were held on their base planet, Kapak. This would be my first trip away from Galaxia in over two years. No one was happy about it except me, though; Synie and Kos were apprehensive, the Mousai were against it, and the Moirae were panicking. My last trip off station had been risky. Synie, Kos, and I had narrowly escaped a conflict with two ships sent to destroy us. Synie and Kos had managed to fend off our attackers with the ship’s limited weapons and I had done some quick flying—I loved flying—but overall, even I could admit we’d been lucky. Kos and Synie had then forbidden me from ever leaving the station again.
I chafed under the imprisonment. Kos tried to tell me that I still had my freedom, but I just scoffed at him. I’d even tried to sneak away to my ship twice, but Nia or Skore had dragged me back kicking and screaming.
I winced. The subsequent conversations with Synie had not gone well. She was normally wise, collected, organized, and highly diplomatic, but she hated when I snuck out, and she could yell a lot.
I stifled an elated giggle and sat at the head of the table. Nothing could ruin my excitement today; I was getting to leave the station. I couldn’t be more thrilled. I’d get to pilot my own ship, see a new planet, spend time among the stars again, be away from the thousands of voices and emotions that plagued me daily….
I sighed contentedly.
“I’m glad you’re happy, Princess,” Callie said, raising an eyebrow.
“May I say again that this is a terrible idea?” Nia grumbled, plopping her redheaded head in her hand and glowering.
“You can always voice your opinion,” I said cheerfully. “But this is one mission I need to see to personally.”
“Why, again?”
“The Narran Trade Alliance is one of the most powerful interplanetary alliances in the galaxy,” I explained. “Save Galaxia and the Emporium, of course. The Alliance is based on Kapak at the moment, but they exist everywhere. It’s a rather complex network of trading guilds and mining alliances.”
“And a nasty one,” Synie murmured. “Known for rather cutthroat, tribal business practices. The whole thing is run by a single family who have few interests except profit in mind.”
“Just like the Emporium,” Thal said bitterly.
I shook my head. “Actually, as Perseus is so fond of reminding me, the Emporium is honest about what it is; everyone in the galaxy knows it’s run by the Corrotto family. The NTA operates under the somewhat false pretense that it’s an actual alliance with free markets.”
“That’s a little underhanded,” Eute remarked, her golden eyes thoughtful.
“So what does this have to do with you?” Nia asked impatiently. She was tugging on her silver armband, something she always did. She was easier for me to read than most of the Mousai, since she was generally always fidgeting and annoyed. It wasn’t her emotions so much as her actions that gave her away.
“The NTA has discovered a planet rich in lithium deposits, and they are selling the rights to mine it,” Synie said.
“Again, so?” Nia asked, sounding more irritable.
“Lithium is highly sought after as a coolant and a reactant, particularly by the NTA, for use in making FTL drive reactors in spaceflight. Lithium is also vital to keeping factories on several planets running, making this planet’s potential profit margin irresistible to the NTA,” I explained.
“Lithium also helps people breathe in space,” Synie added. “It’s used in producing oxygen generators and all that. It’s unbelievably useful. Unfortunately, the lithium is deep under the planet’s crust and would require extensive mining. The NTA wants to sell the planet to the highest bidder.”
Eute leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “So what is the catch, Princess? Galaxia doesn’t own planets or mines like this, so there must be another reason you need to be involved.”
“The catch,” I said, “is that the planet is inhabited. By a pre-space people.”
Eute bit her lip. Thal’s orange eyes narrowed dangerously as Nia grunted.
Synie nodded. “You all see the problem.” She glanced at each of them. “Meda has finally convinced the NTA representatives to agree to a pre-conference meeting between her and the NTA Council, but only if she follows strict protocol, just as any other petitioner would.”
“The Council will only negotiate with petitioners who have set up meetings in advance—which is notoriously difficult to do—and each petitioner has to bring a token gift: a ‘talking stick,’ or negotiating rod.”
“A talking stick?” Thal cut in, orange eyes glinting with humor. “What, like Eute?”
Eute, normally so reserved, flicked an irritated glance at Thal as Nia snickered. “At least when I talk, I have something to say,” she retorted.
Thal glowered as the others laughed. She leaped out of her chair, springing across the table at Eute. Eute reacted quickly, falling backward and using her legs to throw Thal over her. Th
ey both rolled into neat crouches. Thal sprung into action again—
And was abruptly jerked backward as Clee grabbed her tail.
Clee smiled. “Down, Kitty.”
Thal hissed and smiled, while Synie threw up her hands. “Seriously, guys. Now?”
I rested my head in my hand and waited patiently. This was simply how the Mousai interacted. When I had first encountered it, their behavior had terrified me, but now I was used to it and kind of enjoyed it. Their camaraderie even when fighting each other was enviable.
Nia laced her fingers behind her head. “Where’s the popcorn when you need it?”
“Come now, Thal,” Clee said amicably, strolling in an arc around Thal. “I really don’t want to hurt you.”
Thal sprung, and Clee, faster than eyes could follow, stepped diagonally and slammed the back of her arm into Thal’s rib cage. Thal collapsed, wheezing but laughing.
Clee leaned over her and shrugged, her unruly hair falling over her shoulders. “Doesn’t mean I won’t.”
“Now that it’s out of your system,” Synie said, sounding mildly annoyed, “we have the slight problem of the talking stick.”
“What is the problem?” Eute asked.
“They’re rare, and we have to find a way to get one,” I said. “We’ll think of something.”
“So what is it that you hope to do at these negotiations, Princess?” Callie asked.
“I hope to convince them that they need to seek lithium elsewhere,” I replied, stifling amusement as I glanced at Thal, who was still lying on the floor but looking remarkably comfortable. “I’ll negotiate for total noninvolvement first and foremost, on the basis that we have no idea how these people will respond. They could very well turn out to be extremely hostile and dangerous to the rest of the galaxy if provoked.”
“And if the NTA and their bidders couldn’t care less?” Callie asked, sweeping her orange hair away from her eyes.
“They probably won’t,” I said, grimacing. “My primary tactic, in the likely event that total noninvolvement will be a dead end, will be to request that these people be treated with respect and as the owners and caretakers of the lithium the NTA wishes to procure. The NTA will not be able to simply sweep in and take it; they’ll need to deal with the people on some level.”
