“There’s trouble among them,” Sissy said, pointing out the movements to Jake. He stood behind her, one arm draped around her waist, the other hand fingering a blaster on his hip.
“I see it. How does that work to our advantage?”
“According to Ianus, if she can prove he made a faulty and costly decision, then she has the right to depose him,” Martha said. She and the other acolytes, all robed and veiled in mourning robes, stood with Sissy and Jake.
This was perhaps the last time they would stand together. Their next ritual would sever the bonds with Martha, and Jake, permanently.
She leaned in to him, absorbing his warmth and his love.
The Dragons turned left as they emerged, headed along the platform toward control at the opposite end of the station, and away from the wing where their ship docked.
Sissy’s heart leapt. She held her breath and kept her finger poised on the remote control of the holo projector.
Dragon progress was slow, even in nulgrav. She had to remind herself that they processed in a religious ritual for reasons known only to them.
“Now, Sissy,” Jake urged, pressing the flat of his hand against her back.
“I have to respect their spirituality,” she retorted sharply.
“How far? We don’t know if this is simply a parade around the station or a march toward battle.”
“Trust me a moment more.” She looked up into his face, memorizing the planes and angles, the dark stubble, and the way he gazed lovingly into her eyes.
“Trust is the right hand of love,” he whispered back. He dipped his head and closed his eyes, ready to claim a kiss.
“Save it for later,” Mary thrust herself forward, handing Sissy a slender black crystal and a smoky glass wand. This was the miniature version from the travel kit, not the big one on the altar of the Temple chapel below them in this wing. All the crystals were tuned to each other, big and small, in space and back in Crystal Temple, the home of them all.
Sissy stared at this essential tool, trying to focus on it rather than the wonder of Jake’s kisses. Emotions still tingled on her lips. Vibrating emotions tuned to every touch they’d ever shared. Tuned to . . .
“Some sounds don’t replicate true,” Bella interrupted. “You need a live sound filling the station rather than a recorded one.”
“At least start with a true sound,” Sharan chimed in, producing her own smaller clear crystal and wand for her part in any ritual they performed.
Each of the girls held a crystal in varying sizes and shapes on the flats of their left palms, wands at the ready.
Sissy studied the crystal a moment more, selecting the precise facet she should strike. “Jake, please open all the comms.”
“All? Not just those in the hub?”
“All.”
His hand flicked over the monitor screen and he nodded. “What about Pammy and her troops?”
“They can clean up the aftermath.” Sissy held up her wand to signal silence. Then quickly, before she could over-think the issue, she found a note in the back of her throat and rapped her wand on the slender tip of her crystal.
A long, clear tone rippled around the lobby of the topmost level on Temple wing. She lifted the sound from the back of her throat into a full matching tone. Each of her acolytes in turn added their own vocal and crystal notes to complete the seven-note chord.
The lift shaft channeled the music up and down and around, filling the wing, then spilling into the hub.
They added second notes, and a third, turning the chords into a hymn of praise for Harmony, joy tempered by grief for all those they’d lost, everything they’d lost, hope, togetherness, and family unity.
Jake started the holo. The figures of Sissy and her girls in glittering headdresses and sparkling brocade appeared on the screen as they would in the hub, directly in front of Mag and his Bankers.
The Dragons stopped abruptly.
The music grew from the holo and from the live voices and scintillating crystals.
The images of the Grief Blessing concluded on a high note of renewal and acceptance. Then they started over again.
The lesser Dragons in the back of the pack covered their eyes and backed away.
Sissy added a descant to the hymns, thanking the goddess Harmony for accepting the human refugees in search of spiritual freedom.
The underlying songs of the Grief Blessing reminded them all that Harmony had rejected the Dragons long ago and had no interest them now.
“Go home,” she sang. “Go back and find your path toward Harmony. Find your God where He lives, not where you want to find Him. Petition him with love, not ill-gotten riches.”
Somehow she made it all rhyme like it was supposed to be part of the hymn. Somehow her pleading became orders.
She didn’t remember a thing as her eyes glazed and her voice echoed throughout the station. Every crystal vibrated and chimed and commanded as one.
Jake watched Mag deflate his crest until his chains of beads drooped. His steps became smaller, plodding forward by inches. Hes bumped into him. Her crest sagged.
Both of them moved their feet up and down, up and down, moving nowhere.
All of the other Dragons backed away, snouts lifted in alarm, covering their eyes with stubby forearms.
Then slowly, matching steps, Mag and Hes moved backward. Neither one of them gave way before the other.
At the lift to their wing they paused and stared at each other in one long breath-holding moment. Then, together, they turned and marched toward 27D, the wing where their ship docked. Their crests rose pridefully, their scales puffed.
They retreated with dignity.
The lesser Dragons followed suit.
Sissy sagged in relief.
Jake held her up until the blast doors slammed shut on the last fat butt of the least of the Dragons.
“Pammy, monitor their progress. Make sure they board Diamond and cast off. I don’t want to see them again. Ever!”
“Locking up behind them and scrambling the codes. They aren’t getting out of that wing except on their ship.”
“Maintenance tubes?”
“Sealed. Not that any one of them would fit inside.”
“Admiral Marella, please escort them to the jump point.” Jake closed his link and breathed deeply for the first time in what seemed like hours.
Then, gingerly, he lifted Sissy’s heavy headdress off and handed it to Martha, making this her last official duty as an acolyte.
“They’re leaving, Sissy. You scared them with your song. Pammy’s rounding up the last of the little lizards, and security is herding the big guys to the loading hatch of Diamond,” he said.
“Who fled first?” she mumbled, eyes closed and balance teetering.
“Mag and Hes turned back at the same time.”
She swayed, eyes still closed and scrunched against the glare of normal lighting.
His own concussion headache still lingered around the edges of his vision.
“Next time you decide to channel your goddess through the crystals, let me know ahead of time, so I can catch you.” He kissed her nose as he pulled her close, as much to keep her upright as to hold her tightly.
“What did I say?” Sissy whispered. Mary and Sharan helped her out of the padded robe around the obstacle of Jake’s fierce possession of her.
“You scared them into fleeing,” Martha said. “You scared me. I’m wondering if I should return to Harmony and find my path anew.”
“Don’t even think it,” Jake commanded. He’d barely accepted the idea of her as his daughter, and now he feared losing her almost as much as he feared losing Sissy.
“I agree with Jake,” Sissy said, opening her eyes wide in alarm. Her words slurred a bit, backlash from the intense energy of her songs and from opening herself to allow her goddess to speak through her. “If anyone on Harmony learns of your talents they will send you to the execution box without hesitation. They fear difference as much as they fear cha
nge.”
Her knees gave way and her eyes closed again.
Jake scooped her up and held her tightly. Martha arranged Sissy’s arms, crossing them upon her chest. Then she eased her lolling head onto his shoulder.
“If I hadn’t done this before, I’d be scared to death,” he said, forcing a chuckle. “Sissy needs rest before our next adventure, girls. Go get some food, and then to your beds and try to sleep. You too, Martha. You need one more night with your friends. I’ll take care of Sissy.”
The girls exchanged knowing glances.
Jake rolled his eyes. No secrets among this group. Like he was going to take advantage of Sissy in this condition.
Four long strides took him to the upward bound lift. The girls moved around the shaft and headed down. Before he reached the hub, he managed to touch his link to summon an emergency tram.
“I’m awake, Jake.” Sissy stretched her arms up to cling to his neck and rebalance her weight in his arms.
“I know. You only passed out for a few seconds. Long enough to give me an excuse to keep you close one last time.” He kissed her brow.
She kissed his mouth, promising much. “We probably have until midnight. What time is it now?”
“About six. Supper time.”
“And what do you plan on feeding me?” She pressed her face into his neck, leaving wet kisses there too.
“Sorry I don’t have champagne and strawberries, but I’ll cobble together something from the processors.”
Just as he stepped onto the platform, Pammy appeared at the head of her own wing, across the tracks from them. She immediately continued on the downward lift, leaving them alone.
Polite discretion from Pammy? What was the universe coming to?
“You can put me down now, Jake,” Sissy said the moment he stepped aboard the tram.
“I could. But in nulgrav you don’t weigh anything. I’d just as soon hold you close a bit longer.”
“As if you won’t be holding me closer as soon as we persuade Marsh and Ashel to go to bed two hours early.”
“I’m sending them, along with Nanny, to Temple wing so they can say goodbye to your girls. We’ll have the entire wing to ourselves.”
“Until Mara summons you to the next crisis, or Captain Kalek calls, whichever comes first.”
They arrived at the wing opposite Control and descended to MG 3.
An empty wing. Accountants, lawyers, and spies had gone elsewhere. Nanny had taken the children to Temple wing. Even Mara had gone off shift. All signs of the earlier chaos had disappeared. The place nearly echoed with quiet.
“You hardly weigh anything at all, even with gravity,” Jake said. He squeezed her tightly, then dropped her onto his bed. “You need to eat. How many meals have you missed since you left here with Laud Gregor’s empty coffin nearly a month ago?” He checked on the ghost. Laud Gregor had the decency to remain in the office. He looked a lot less substantial than before. He knew his sojourn was almost over.
She blushed and bit her lip in embarrassment.
“Too many,” he answered for her. “One fattening supper coming up.”
“Jake, would it be too much to ask for a chocolate milkshake?”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sissy sipped at her second milkshake. The cold sweetness soothed her raw throat and quieted her tired tummy. She sat on a stool in Jake’s rudimentary kitchen, wearing nothing but one of his large T-shirts while he rummaged through the cooler for sandwich makings. He’d pulled on his undershorts. She couldn’t take her eyes off his tight muscles and long legs.
“Maybe I should just have a milkshake myself. They are easy, some milk powder, ice, cocoa powder and sugar . . .”
“If it’s any consolation, I can’t cook either,” she offered, taking another long drink. “You’ve lost weight, too.”
“When I remember to eat, I join the crew over in the control wing. I like getting to know the people who actually run this place, and they seem to like having an accessible commander.” He threw together his own milkshake and managed to drink some of it before a gentle chime told of an incoming call. “That’ll be Captain Kalek. A bit early, though.”
She threw him a shirt from the fresher to cover his bare chest. Back to work. For both of them. They both padded barefoot into the office, arms slung around each other’s waists while they drank. She belonged there, beside Jake. Her Jake. Gloriously and intimately hers.
Many things to finish before that became a reality.
“General, you have to take this call,” Mara said over the comms.
“What now?” Kalek would have called him directly without going through Control.
Sissy perched on the arm of Jake’s chair as he slicked back his hair and fastened the top two buttons, crookedly, of his shirt. She nodded that he looked presentable for as much of him as the comms would show the caller.
“Who am I talking to?” Jake asked, composing his face into something resembling professionalism.
“General Jeremiah Devlin, Her Royal Holiness, S’preme of the planet New D’Or,” Mara introduced them as the face of a black and platinum Dragon with twelve chains of multicolored beads and crystals appeared on the screen.
Sissy slid off the desk with a squeak of dismay.
The universal translator kicked in at the same time words scrolled across the bottom of the screen. “General, my apologies for the actions of the inhabitants of Diamond. You note, ship do no carry identifier D’Or.”
“Your Royal Holiness, I did not know that was normal. We have had no contact with your people prior to this,” Jake said. He kept his gaze on the screen, betraying no emotion, though he reached to squeeze Sissy’s hand and kept it trapped within his own.
“Mag is pirate. Consort Bankers pirates. Permission granted to cease their existence.” The translator began filling in the blanks between languages.
Sissy gasped and threw her free hand across her mouth to suppress the sound.
Jake moved icons on the periphery of the center screen around. Pammy’s identifier blinked. She was eavesdropping. That seemed wise for once. Then a smaller screen burst into view, showing the tactical display of all the ships surrounding the station.
“Your Royal Holiness, I believe the Diamond is now beyond the range of the limited defense weapons of this station. Within an hour of our time they will reach the jump point.”
“Very well.” The scrolling text and the translator paused. Did the Dragon leader sigh? “I will deal with them as I should . . . long ago. Hoped their victims take care of chore for me.”
“The CSS, the Marilon Empire, the Harmonite Empire, and the Labyrinthe Corporation have been alerted to Mag’s illegal activities,” Jake said.
Sissy played with other icons on the periphery, seeking a source of the transmission. Anywhere within known space should have popped up in seconds. The symbols spun around and around in a hypnotic dance. She was too tired to let herself fall into a trance watching it. She might not wake up.
Jake nodded that he acknowledged her search.
“I feel I owe you . . . recompense,” S’preme said. The text and translator paused over the last word, as if foreign to her. “Our mission is assist younger races in attempts to reach out the galaxy. If we profit a little it allows us to continue our work. Do you need economic or technological assistance?” Her eyes brightened, despite the pauses for communication to catch up.
“Not at this time,” Jake said firmly.
“Spiritual guidance, perhaps? I am spiritual as well as temporal leader of my people. I offer . . .” S’preme lifted her hands, palms out, claws retracted.
“We have our own resident High Priestess.” Jake drew Sissy closer so that her face was captured by the optics of the communication.
She blushed and tried to pull up the sagging neckline of the too large knit shirt. Jake just smiled at her.
“Ah, I see that you separate the roles but retain a mated pair to share the burdens. An interesting compromise in a less
er race without the strength to shoulder the burden of both.”
“The leadership roles differ from culture to culture,” Jake explained, swallowing his own grin of delight.
“As to recompense?”
“Your Royal Holiness, we have suffered little damage at the hands of Mag and his pirates. We did, however, remove twenty-four slaves from his control and absorbed them into our population as free people.”
“Slaves?” A long pause while the screen went gray, and static replaced the lines of text. “We do not hold slaves.” That sounded pre-recorded.
Sissy suspected a lie. At this distance—the source of the transmission remained elusive.
“We have never held slaves. This an abomination that must be eliminated!” S’preme’s head remained a blur, the words came out quickly and precisely.
Pre-recorded. “She’s lying,” Sissy mouthed to Jake.
The images firmed, back to real time.
“We agree,” Jake said. “Mag and his ship, his predecessors, kidnapped telepaths from my home world many generations ago. They continued the practice for a long time, until there were no more mind talkers.”
Sissy noted that he left out the bit about evolving the technology to spot the Dragon ship and stop their predations upon Earth.
“Telepaths? We are all telepaths. Why would Mag want lesser being telepaths?”
“I do not know. Perhaps he just wanted the feeling of power at owning something no one else did. But they are free now. And we have no more desire to deal with Dragons.”
“Your wish noted. If we cross paths among stars, I hope on friendlier terms. If you or allies cross paths with Mag and his like, permission to blow them out of the sky.” The screen went blank and the translator shut off.
Jake sagged and held Sissy tighter. Then he pulled her into his lap and pressed his face against her neck. “We did it, my love. We slayed Dragons.”
She sighed with relief as well, grateful for the warmth of his embrace to banish the chill of nerves that shook her entire body. “We slayed Dragons today.”
Mourner Page 26
