The first dog she had freed was trundling around after her, leaning against Jelena’s leg whenever she paused, and looking up at her with soulful brown eyes. Her soft brown and white fur was matted with blood and grime, but she would be a cutie once she healed and had a bath. She seemed quite certain that the dog pen was not for her.
Most of the animals, monkeys aside, were too exhausted to care about being fenced in. They’d had water and a meal, both of which had delighted them, but now, copious napping was going on. The flexible fencing wouldn’t keep any of the animals in if they were truly determined to escape, but she believed she’d conveyed to them that it was their new safe place and that they should stay in it for now.
Erick alternated between pacing and helping the men unload their cargo. He’d changed into his black Starseer robe, which should have made him look mysterious and wise, but his agitation came through. She knew he was worried that they had only flown a couple of hours and were just on the other side of the moon from the research facility. Not far, if pursuit had been sent. She didn’t know if Erick still intended to go out and meet his friends that night. Jelena would prefer to get off the moon—and not visit again for a long, long time.
“We could unload our cyborg guest here,” Erick said.
He’d gotten her broken helmet off and anesthetized her while Jelena had been flying them over here, the latter more so she wouldn’t wake up and attack them than because she’d seemed to be in great pain. Jelena had gone down to check on her once she’d been able to turn on the autopilot, and the medical scanner hadn’t reported any damage to her internal organs. She did have a fracture in her skull and two broken leg bones.
If she’d had more time and less to worry about, Jelena could have mended the bones with her powers, but she’d opted for programming the nanobots in the med kit to do the job instead. Thanks to Leonidas’s insistence, both Erick and Jelena had received some mundane medical training as well as their Starseer training. One had to be self-sufficient when out on a freighter, far between planets.
“Is there a hospital here?” Jelena asked.
Even though she believed their patient would survive, she didn’t like the idea of dumping her out in some alley. Gizmoshi was a series of connected domes and stations built into the light side of the moon, and though the Alliance had a government presence, she’d heard the mafia families were quite active, and that it wasn’t a good place to be penniless and down on one’s luck.
“Uhm, there must be something,” Erick said. “We’d probably have to pay to drop her off at one though.”
And neither of them was rolling in riches. Right.
“Maybe we should wait until she wakes up and ask her what she wants,” Jelena said.
“I’d have to stop drugging her then.”
“That might be the polite thing to do.”
“She could try to kill me if she wakes up.”
“I can go in and talk to her,” Jelena said.
“Oh, she’ll definitely try to kill you.”
“Me?” Jelena touched her chest.
“You’re the one who jabbed her in the chest and knocked her off that ledge.”
“Actually, that’s not what happened at all.” Jelena remembered the way the cyborg had caught her staff, how she’d easily caught the staff. Even though the tool’s power had surprised the woman, Jelena doubted it would have caused her to fall if the rocks hadn’t crumbled away under her feet.
“I’m sure you’ll have fun explaining it to her,” Erick said. “While her hand is wrapped around your neck.”
Hm, maybe they could foist her off on Xing’s people. A bonus delivery along with their cargo. If the woman lost her job at the medical facility, she could stay and work for them. Surely a cyborg could heft boxes as well as a forklift.
A beep came from a panel, and Jelena froze, dread filling her. It was just a comm alert, but what if it was the head of security from Stellacor? Or what if the corporation had contacted the law enforcement agency in Gizmoshi, and troops were surrounding the Snapper even now?
That possibility seemed so likely that Jelena ran to the panel and called up the exterior camera displays before looking to see who was contacting them.
“Trouble?” Erick asked, frowning over at her.
The two workers simply continued with their forklifts, removing their cargo. A couple more men from their outfit were on the loading dock outside, but she didn’t see anyone in uniform and nobody with guns. Good.
“I’m not sure yet.” Jelena checked the comm message. When she saw who it was, the dread didn’t disappear. It just turned to a different kind of dread. “It’s Mom,” she told Erick.
“Definitely trouble, then.” He smirked. He looked relieved.
Sure, because he hadn’t concocted the plan and wasn’t the reason there were animals roaming the deck, animals she had to find homes for before she rendezvoused with the Nomad. Either that, or she had to explain to her parents what she had done. Was it possible they had already found out, and that was why Mom was calling? If they hadn’t found out, was it possible Jelena could avoid telling them about it? Ever?
“Maybe Leonidas can come deal with our cyborg problem,” Erick said.
“I don’t think people automatically get along with each other, just because they’re cyborgs,” Jelena said. “Besides, a woman cyborg has to have come out of the Alliance program. And you know how all of the empire hasn’t quite rubbed off Leonidas yet.”
They hadn’t had a reason to discuss Prince Thorian, the only surviving heir of the defunct Sarellian Empire, that often of late, but Leonidas got a wistful look in his eyes whenever his name came up, as if he still hoped that the empire might be reestablished somehow. As if the Alliance would disappear after ten years of unopposed rule.
Jelena barely remembered life under the empire, but to hear Mom talk, it had only been good for those in positions of power. Most of the rest of the system had either lived in fear, afraid to talk freely, or had buried their heads, immersing themselves in the various entertainment options provided and not worrying much about politics. It wasn’t unusual to still run into disturbingly vacant-eyed people who’d had their memories and thought processes “improved” after sharing their unflattering opinions of the empire in the wrong crowds.
“At the least, his neck is sturdy enough to withstand having cyborg fingers wrapped around it,” Erick said.
“The way you keep talking about that, I’m wondering if it happened when I wasn’t looking.”
“Not to my neck specifically.” Erick hiked up his robe enough to show his underwear and his bare torso where a dark purple bruise spread across his abdomen. “That’s from where she barely grazed me with a punch. It’s too bad Stellacor is going to put me on their dead-to-us list, because I could probably use a few new organs.”
“She fell off a cliff, and you’re whining about a punch? I may downgrade you from superhero to useful-helper status.”
“Do I still get to wear a sheet like a cape?”
“If it makes you feel important.”
One of the forklift men whistled, and Erick lowered his robe, blushing. Apparently, he’d forgotten they weren’t alone in the cargo hold.
“I always figured the Starseer community shunned us because of my grandfather,” Jelena said, “but it’s possible they just don’t consider us suitable representatives.”
“Why, because I showed my bare legs to some dock workers?”
“And they liked it.” Jelena patted the dog, who was once again leaning against her leg, then turned toward NavCom. She had better find out what her mother wanted. If she didn’t answer right away, and if the Nomad had already dropped off its own cargo, the ship might head to Alpha 17 to check up. “I’ll see what Mom wants.”
“Are you going to tell her about this?” Erick waved toward the half-built animal pen.
“It depends on whether she already knows.”
“That would not be good. It would mean we’d been repor
ted to some local news outfit and that Stellacor has definitely identified our ship. I bet they can afford to hire bounty hunters.”
Jelena gave him an exasperated look. She was definitely downgrading him from superhero.
“And what do you mean we’re shunned?” he asked, following her into the corridor. “Who told you that?”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why Abelardus and Young-hee are the only Starseers that have talked to us since we started training with Grandpa Stan?”
“That’s not true. I don’t think.” He scratched his head.
“No? Who do you chat with that’s part of the community?”
“Well, no one, but I haven’t really tried.”
Jelena slid into her seat in NavCom and peered into her stallion mug. Empty. She grabbed one of her drink mixes from the pouch by her seat, dumped it in, and took it to the water dispenser in the mess hall. She told herself she wasn’t dawdling. She was making sure she was suitably hydrated for a talk with her parents.
“When we were kids,” she said, raising her voice to continue the conversation since Erick had stayed in NavCom, “remember how many Starseers were interested in us?”
“They were interested in you. Because of your supposedly superior genes. They wanted to breed you with Prince Thorian, who is also supposed to be from Saint Alcyone’s line, so you two could make powerful Starseer babies.” Judging by the noise Erick made, he found the idea disgusting.
“So I’ve been told,” Jelena said, “but nobody has suggested anything of the sort lately. If my genes are so great, wouldn’t you think I’d get some other offers for, uhm, breeding?”
She didn’t particularly want those offers, especially if someone was only interested in her for baby-making purposes, but she often wished to meet other Starseers. Not to date, marry, or breed with them, but because she’d like to talk to more people like her, more people who understood what it was like to be different. She loved Mom and Leonidas very much, but neither of them had Starseer powers, so neither could truly understand her world. Her real dad, Jonah, had been the one to have them, though he’d kept it a secret from Mom the whole time they had been married. Mom carried the gene mutations, but she’d never developed the powers, something that was true for most people with the altered genes. Grandpa understood, but he was a little weird. She loved him, but she couldn’t imagine having a chat about fitting in with a man who wore chaps and a cowboy hat on a spaceship. She longed for more Starseer friends around her own age.
“I’m concerned that you sound sad about that,” Erick said.
“I’m just suggesting that we’ve been marked as personae non gratae.”
“Are eighteen-year-olds supposed to use words like that? Am I going to have to start consulting my earstar to understand what you’re saying?”
“You barely wear your earstar, so that would be tough.”
“Because Roxy nags me and won’t let me download a less motherly AI.”
“You can just use the voice commands without activating the AI, you know.” With her caffeinated berry drink mixed, Jelena slid into the pilot’s seat again. She couldn’t think of any more legitimate reasons to delay chatting with Mom. “But you probably like being nagged by her, since your real mom is on the other side of the system and can’t do it.”
“Uh huh. Speaking of nagging, don’t you need to talk to your mom?”
“I’m working on it.”
“You just push that button there.” He plopped down into the co-pilot’s seat. His expression made it clear he intended to ensure she made the call. Now, who was nagging?
“Shouldn’t you be down in the cargo hold, making sure those dock workers don’t take anything that doesn’t belong to them?”
“There’s nothing else down there except for malnourished animals. Most people wouldn’t steal those.”
“I didn’t steal them. I liberated them.” Jelena pushed the button he’d sarcastically indicated, and the Star Nomad’s information popped up on the holodisplay. She frowned over at him as she tapped the floating call button. “Don’t say anything about it to them, please.”
“Mm,” he said neutrally. Or was that disagreeably?
Jelena looked toward the display, pretending she wouldn’t make more pleas, but with her mind, she reached out to the cargo hold, to some of the more vocal animals down there. She made a few bargains with the monkeys in particular, promising she would find them some bananas if they assisted her. Unlike the dogs, cats, and pigs, they hadn’t been impressed by the meat-flavored ration bars or the pet treats. Surely, somewhere in Gizmoshi, someone grew fruit in a hydroponic garden. There might even be some greenhouses. This side of the moon got plenty of sun, after all.
As the comm attempted to get through to the Nomad—Jelena was surprised it was taking this long since the freighter shouldn’t be far away, just on another of Aldrin’s moons—boisterous hoots and howls arose from the cargo hold.
Jelena frowned over her shoulder, then looked at Erick. “Will you check on that?”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Please?” She smiled and attempted to make her eyes look wholesome and without guile or deceit. Oddly, she always found that a challenge.
He grumbled and walked out. She locked the hatch after he disappeared. It was a symbolic gesture only, since he could thwart the lock with a flick of his mind, but she felt justified. She ought to be able to talk to her parents in private.
Another long minute passed, and Jelena started to wonder what could have happened in the ten minutes since Mom first commed. Maybe she had gone down to the moon, and the call was being routed to her.
Finally, her mother, Captain Alisa Marchenko, appeared on the display, the familiar drab gray of the Nomad’s NavCom cabin behind her. Her auburn hair, several shades lighter than Jelena’s, was pulled back in a braid. If there was any gray in it, Mom hid it with dye or hair mods. For some reason, she looked a little older than usual, though, with the slight lines at the corners of her eyes noticeable today.
“Hi, Mom,” Jelena said, smiling brightly, hoping she wasn’t the cause for the concerned look. She tried to portray that there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary here, nope. Fortunately, the closed hatch muffled the sounds of the monkeys. When she got a moment, she would let them know that they had earned their bananas and need not continue.
“Hi, sweetie.” Mom also smiled, but it appeared forced.
Jelena braced herself to answer questions about the trip.
“I have some . . . news,” Mom said. “Leonidas is fine right now, so don’t worry. I mean, he’s stable.”
“Uh?” Jelena asked, for the first time grasping that this might not be about her.
Mom took a deep breath. “He had a heart attack. We’re heading to Arkadius where he’ll have the best treatment at the best facility there. Dr. Tiang pointed us to a colleague of his, someone with experience with aging cyborgs. Dr. Horvald worked with the imperial cyborg program for years and reported directly to the emperor. He was one of their best until he defected from the empire during the war. Leonidas will be in good hands.” She nodded, as if to reassure herself.
“Treatment?” Jelena mouthed, barely registering the information about the doctor. “Heart attack? But Dad’s not old. And he’s . . .” She groped in the air with her hands, feeling too stunned to articulate her thoughts. How could Leonidas have a heart attack? He was fifty. That wasn’t that old. Grandpa was older than that. And Leonidas was so fit. He didn’t have any fat on him, and his arms were bigger than most people’s thighs.
“I know,” Mom said, that forced smile coming out again. She was trying to be encouraging, motherly, but there were tears standing in her eyes now. “It surprised us all. We’re lucky your grandfather was here.”
“Yes, Grandpa can heal, right? He’s the one who taught me the basics. Can’t he fix it?”
“He’s the reason Leonidas is in a stable condition right now, but he can’t . . . It’s not like a broken bone.
The empire fu—” Anger flashed in Mom’s eyes, and Jelena doubted the next words were the first ones that had come to her mind. “They dithered around a lot with his insides when they were turning him into a super soldier. He always knew, but . . . well, this isn’t the end. We’ll get him a new heart. A new everything if we have to. Screw the empire.” The last words came out savagely, and she looked away, dashing her sleeve across her eyes before turning back to the camera.
Jelena felt moisture gathering in her own eyes, both because of her mother’s distress and because she was worried about Leonidas. He might not be her real father, but he’d been one in all but blood for the last ten years, and she couldn’t have asked for a better man to be there for her mother. And her.
She wished she were talking to Mom in person. Then she could have read her thoughts, her emotions. She wouldn’t be relying on a picture on a holodisplay for cues. Was Leonidas really stable? Or was Mom trying to protect her? To keep her from worrying?
“Can I see him?” Jelena asked.
“He’s resting now, but I’ll have him send you a message later, or you can talk live if we’re still close enough. Like I said, we’re heading to Arkadius right away, and depending on what Dr. Horvald says during the tests, we may need to schedule a surgery for as soon as possible. Please meet us there once you’ve delivered your cargo. I know Leonidas will want you there. Erick too.”
As soon as possible. That sounded ominous, and Jelena wondered again if Mom was telling her everything. She wiped her eyes. “We’ll be there.”
The animals could always stay aboard until after they made sure Leonidas would be fine. Her gut lurched as she thought of them. Of them and of her attack against Stellacor, a company that made—or stole—organs for people who needed them. What if Leonidas needed one of their hearts and because of her actions, there would be a shortage? No, it shouldn’t work that way. Besides, she hadn’t damaged anything except that animal warehouse. And some ships. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was some karmic retribution for her mission. But surely, the gods or the stars or whatever was out there couldn’t want to back such an evil corporation.
The Rogue Prince Page 6
