The realisation now didn't even upset her. It was what she was. What was it that Justice had remarked to her, upon learning of her and Ari's relationship, and its recent breakup, through another of his secret sources? It's the solitude of Kings, he'd said. There's only room for one person atop the pinnacle.
No, Sandy had disagreed. You just find other pinnacles to place your own alongside.
“Sandy, look!” Kiril yelled now from the sand, holding up something squishy. “A jellyfish!”
“That's a big one, Kiri!” Sandy yelled back, vision zooming on it to be sure it was safe. Now that her kids were gromits, she was suddenly taking an interest in dangerous marine life and had catalogued them all in a memory file. “Just be sure you don't pick up any jellyfish with blue spots on it!”
“This one doesn't have any spots!” Kiril replied.
“When's his appointment?” Svetlana asked.
“Three-thirty,” said Sandy. “We've hours yet; we can go straight to HQ from here.” The Shield bombardment hadn't destroyed HQ's med labs, which were functioning even as the rest of the compound howled and hammered with construction activity.
“What if they find he's getting smarter?” Svetlana wondered. “What if he ends up like some kind of boy genius?”
Sandy made a face. “I'd rather no change at all, thanks.” A passing swell lifted them, nothing worth catching.
“But they can't really tell, can they? I mean, it's all so new.”
“With Ragi's input they can tell a lot more than they could.” His brief interaction with Kiril had somehow allowed him to compile a graphical map of how Kiril's uplinks were working. The FSA's biotech doctors were a little more excited about it than Sandy liked, but at least it was helping.
Svetlana saw another swell coming and turned to set herself up for a run. “Not this one,” said Sandy. “It's too flat.” Sure enough, it passed under without ever really building.
“You know,” Svetlana volunteered, “with Kiril going to the doctors regularly, if you get really busy, we could take him ourselves. Danya and me.”
“Danya and I,” Sandy corrected.
“Crap, you say ‘someone and me’ all the time!”
Sandy grinned. “Do as I say, not as I do.” Svetlana snorted. “Well, that'd be great, Svet, if I get really busy and I absolutely can't do it. But for now I'd like to do it myself.”
“Do what yourself?” Danya asked, finally reaching them after his paddle back out. The increased exercise was beginning to show in his arms and shoulders, especially all the surfboard paddling. And his birthday was in two weeks, he was nearly fourteen, and increasingly strong for his age. Svetlana had had to remind him of the date; he'd genuinely forgotten. Sandy was wondering if there should be a big party with new schoolfriends, but Svetlana had cautioned her against it—Danya didn't exactly not get along with kids his own age, he just didn't have much to say to them and wouldn't consider a party full of them to be a very fun time. One older boy had tried to make a thing of it, show he was a tough guy, pushing around the quiet Kresnov kid before his friends. Danya had beaten him up, quite quickly, no fuss, just a methodical punch in the head and several kicks on the ground to make sure the message stuck.
And Sandy had told the principal unapologetically, I told you it would happen to the first kid who went after him. You promised me no kid would go after him. But here we are. And Danya had calmly shaken the other boy's hand the next day, no hard feelings, though he'd flatly refused to apologise and gave the quiet impression the same thing would happen to anyone else who tried him. Thus far, no one had. Svetlana said with glowing worship that she didn't think it ever would. And Danya, ever methodical, had admitted to Sandy that he'd deliberately not hurt the other boy too much, calculating how much force was sufficient for deterrence alone.
Svetlana now reported that many older girls, and some younger ones, were now approaching her wanting to talk about Danya, and how a girl might gather the courage to strike up a conversation with him. Sandy wondered what a teenage Tanushan girl would make of him. He wasn't a “bad boy,” he was actually a very good boy, never broke the rules if he could help it, studied hard, was absolutely devoted to his brother and sister, was more disciplined than most adults, more than some SWAT grunts even. It was just that his rules were his own, and those personal rules preceeded the other rules every time. One of those personal rules was zero tolerance of threats that were within his capability to personally deal with. If he was threatened, then conceivably his siblings were at risk as well. He just wouldn't put up with it. Couldn't. And those who thought that made him violent were missing the point—he wasn't; in fact he hated violence. And so engaged in minor violence to protect those he loved from the worse violence that could follow if he didn't.
That some Tanushan teenage girls found that hot only increased Sandy's opinion of the taste of teenage girls. But good luck prying him away from Svetlana. Maybe girlfriends would have to wait until Svetlana discovered boyfriends. And where the hell that would end up…it made her head spin just to think on it. Thank God it was all so far away for Kiril at least. Kiril was all hers for years yet.
Danya was now on official probation with the school, however. Sandy didn't mind that. As she'd told him, So long as you don't start it, don't throw the first punch, and don't use other kids’ fear of you to push them around or make them feel bad. You're the school tough guy now. It's not just a power, it's a responsibility. Don't abuse it.
“Take Kiril to the doctors,” Sandy answered him now. “Svetlana was saying you guys could do it alone if I was busy.”
“Yeah, good idea, Svet,” said Danya. “And don't forget to get some spending money for the shopping tour along the way.” Svetlana splashed him.
“What would you rather buy when I'm not there?” Sandy asked quizzically.
“Nothing!” Svetlana insisted. “Just…stuff.”
“Girly stuff,” Danya said knowingly. Svetlana looked a little embarrassed.
“Hey,” said Sandy. “Svet, just because I'm a butch broad doesn't mean you have to be.”
“You're not a butch broad!” Svetlana protested. “You're just not very…well, you know. I like decoration.” Looking at the purple flowers on her surfboard.
“Well, I know what I am, Svet,” Sandy reasoned. “And it's hard to paint flowers on an assault rifle. But you're still discovering who you are, you're supposed to try things out at your age. Tell you what, let's go shopping together next weekend, you can buy me some girly stuff too.”
“Deal!” said Svetlana. “But you gotta wear it.”
“Well, you think of an appropriate occasion, because I'm not wearing it to tac simulation.”
Danya grinned, watching Kiril in the shallows all the while. “Ari said Fleet will be here soon,” he said. “A few days.” The other reason Sandy wanted to keep close ties with Ari, aside from the personal, was that she'd seen how good he was with Danya. Not just the male role model thing, more the normal-human role model.
“They're overdue,” Sandy confirmed. “I think it's a good sign. They're not rushing in with all guns blazing.”
“Or a bad one,” said Danya, “because it means they're preparing a big force.”
“Thanks, Danya, very cheerful,” said Svetlana.
“Yeah, but where?” Sandy replied. “Earth's out, no one trusts them after the relocation. Callay became the default center of colonial space. Fleet has no real concentrations other than Pantala, and that's out…and how do they round up that much political consensus? Normally they'd all come here to do that.”
“So…” Danya thought about it. “Anyone who came here without consulting anyone would be accused of another coup. Because it's unrepresentative. So they have to take their time, but with the space lanes so big and messages going only one way…”
“Exactly. It's a nightmare. I expect they'll start trickling in, hold up in the outer system and talk about it there. It's the only way.”
“You mean that by taking
the GC, you really do control the center of the Federation,” Danya reasoned.
“Yep. And now control the agenda, because we can demand they agree with or answer any security points we've identified. And since most of the Callayan population have grudgingly accepted we did the right thing, they're behind us, so any military resolution of our occupation of the GC would be a Fleet hostile invasion of the capital world, which isn't going to happen. We'll talk, it'll work out. You'll see.”
“Can we not talk about work while we're surfing?” Svetlana complained.
“Absolutely,” Sandy agreed. “Danya, stop it.”
“Me stop it?” He grinned. He was doing that so much more these days. “You were talking more than me.”
“Yes, but you started it. Look, here comes a good wave. Let's catch it together.”
“And no cutting each other off!” Danya demanded, paddling to position, watching the wave approach. “Svetochka!”
“It's not my fault!” Svetlana protested, also paddling. “I'm too light to control the board, Sandy said so!”
“Okay, ready?” Sandy watched the green wave building nicely as it approached. “Okay, go go!” As Danya and Svetlana both paddled like crazy. Sandy let it come to her, thrust twice and stood, looking fast left and right to see Svetlana, then Danya manage shakily to get to their feet, then rushing down the face, all up together. On the beach, Kiril saw and cheered loudly. Sandy laughed and made a couple of little weaves on her short board between them, up close to one, then the other, all grinning.
Until Svetlana tried to balance on one leg, lost control of her board, which plowed into Sandy, then across into Danya, as all three fell or jumped clear. And resurfaced laughing.
“You're an idiot,” Danya told his sister, swimming to her and grabbing.
“I nearly did it!” Svetlana laughed, struggling.
“You know, that was all a lot more ‘happy families’ in my head,” said Sandy, with an amused glare at Svetlana.
“Isn't it always?” said Danya. Svetlana stuck out her tongue.
Joel Shepherd is the author of four previous Cassandra Kresnov novels—Crossover, Breakaway, Killswitch, and 23 Years on Fire—and four previous novels in the Trial of Blood and Steel series—Sasha, Petrodor, Tracato, and Haven. He is currently midway through a doctoral program in International Relations and has also studied film and television, interned on Capitol Hill in Washington, and traveled widely in Asia. Visit Joel at www.joelshepherd.com.
Author photo
© Impact Image, South Australia
Cassandra Kresnov 5: Operation Shield Page 54
