His lips curled into a self-satisfied grin. “Rasu on Adjunct San. I had to do my part to help kick them out.”
“You mean you couldn’t resist the adrenaline rush of fighting another army of Rasu. I thought you were more enthusiastic than usual tonight.”
“Was I?” He’d prefer to believe he was never lethargic in bed, much like in combat. But perhaps a bit more enthusiastic this time, sure.
Her lips brushed across the welt; both were moist and swollen. “Yes, in fact. I may need to send you into a few more war zones.”
“Oh, is that so?” He hauled her the rest of the way on top of him. One thing about a woman like Selene Panetier—tough, brave, confident, no-nonsense? She was not a wallflower between the sheets. They were undoubtedly a terrible, destructive match in every other sense, but when it came to sex, they were perfect for one another.
“Yeah, that’s so.” She leaned down, sending her damp hair to tickle his chest. “But didn’t Lance’s soldiers have it covered? I heard we wiped the place clean in a couple of hours.”
“They seemed to, yes. But I was itching to blow off some steam, and the Rasu are the enemy, deserving of everything I can hurl at them.”
“They are. But I would have…” she stopped herself “…I was going to say I would have thought after our weeks on Namino, you should’ve gotten your fill and then some of fighting Rasu. But you don’t remember any of those battles, of course.”
“Don’t need to. I’m certain I would not have gotten my fill. And I won’t—not until every last Rasu is atomized.”
She planted a quick kiss on his mouth before rolling onto her back and stretching out from her fingers to her toes. “Well, I’ll be happy if I never see another Rasu after Namino.”
“But you’ll fight them if you need to, won’t you?”
“Always. I’ll do whatever is required to safeguard the people I’m sworn to protect. It’s just not my preference.”
“I see.”
She propped up on one elbow to stare at him. “You don’t believe me?”
“No, actually, I do. You’re a woman of action but, unlike me, you tend to let your brain drive your action.” He cocked a little smile. “I’m starting to suspect that for a Justice officer, you’re all right.”
“Only all right, huh?” She snaked a hand down under the covers and squeezed. “I think I deserve a more fervent endorsement.”
“Ah…” his jaw clenched “…then allow me to provide whatever you need.”
She laughed and released her hold on him. “So maybe Justice officers aren’t all so terrible?”
He blinked a few times, his stomach instinctively turning at the touchy turn the conversation was taking, even if he’d started it. Still, he swallowed back the defensive retort that almost made it to his tongue in favor of equivocation. “Some definitely have a greater number of positive qualities than others. And I am…trying to recognize those differences. Yes, even outside of the bedroom. It’s a work in progress.”
“You know, if you told me about what happened to you before NOIR, I might be able to—”
“Doesn’t matter. Or I’m working to convince myself that it’s in the distant past and can no longer matter. This is also a work in progress, but it’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”
He swung his legs off the bed, stood and grabbed his pants, unwilling to let those thoughts ruin the positive vibes from their lovemaking. “I told Parc I’d help him and Ryan transport a bunch of new mech components over to their place tonight. Comm me later?”
“I’m going to be working all night, then trying to get some sleep in the morning. Maybe tomorrow evening.”
“Whatever suits you. Can’t promise I won’t be fighting more Rasu tomorrow evening, though.” He shoved his feet into his shoes and headed for the door, as they weren’t much for tender goodbyes.
Only once he was halfway to the lift did he realize this was the first time he’d left her alone in his apartment. His steps slowed, and he considered returning to usher her out. But his demons couldn’t be uncovered in the few trinkets and gear he had stored in his place. No, they lived only in his head.
When the door closed behind Joaquim, Selene dropped her head back onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Her most subtle interrogation techniques continued to slam directly into the brick wall that was Joaquim Lacese’s stubbornness.
She ought to let it go, especially if she wanted to continue to enjoy their intimate encounters. One wrong move on her part, and he’d shut her out permanently.
But the truth was that she’d never trust him fully until she knew what had happened in his past to make him despise Justice so. And, strangely, she found she rather desperately wanted to be able to trust him. Didn’t know exactly where the desire was coming from.
Also, she didn’t care for the possibility of Justice having committed evil misdeeds in the past, regardless of whether it was under her watch. Her highest responsibility as a Justice Advisor was to ensure the Justice Division lived up to its mission of protecting Asterion citizens—not harming them.
Mostly, though, she was a detective, and she simply couldn’t abide an unsolved mystery.
22
* * *
MIRAI
Mirai One Refugee Center
“Excuse me. Do you know when I’ll get to go home?”
Perrin Benvenit turned toward the voice. It came from a man pacing in front of a pile of suitcases stacked up against the wall. His belongings? “I’m sorry, Mr. …?”
“Sullivan.”
“Hi, Mr. Sullivan. I’m Perrin. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Where is home for you?”
“Namino Two.”
“Oh.” She ran a hand through her hair, which felt greasy and unkempt. Definitely uncombed. How many hours had it been since she’d taken a break to so much as run to the lavatory? “Not for a while, I’m afraid. Do you need me to help you find some more permanent lodging on an Axis World? I’ve got a list of options and—”
“I don’t want to be stashed in a building and told to wait. I want to go home.” The man’s frustration bled out of his voice and sent his hands twitching.
“I understand, Mr. Sullivan. I truly do. But Namino doesn’t have any essential services up and running. There’s no food, no electricity and only minimal security. Even assuming your—” home isn’t a pile of rubble “—neighborhood has been confirmed clear of Rasu, it’s not safe to return to Namino. We just need a little more time to effect repairs and get everything functioning again.”
The man sank onto one of his suitcases. “How much time?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know. Please, let me give you a list of lodgings that are offering discounts and short-term rentals to people who have been displaced. I’ll bet some private space and a real bed will go a long way toward making the wait easier for you.”
He groaned into his hands. “Fine.”
Perrin tried to make herself as unnoticeable as possible as she slipped through the refugees milling listlessly about in the common room. She reached the door unaccosted and made a beeline down the hall for the temporary sanctum of the lavatory. If she splashed water on her face and ran a comb through her hair, it might rejuvenate her enough to dive back into her work—
A hand landed on her shoulder. “Excuse me. Ms. Benvenit, isn’t it? You’re in charge here?”
She sucked up her dwindling energy and tried to plaster on a comforting mien as she turned around. “I wouldn’t say I’m ‘in charge,’ but I am helping out here. What can I do for you, Ms. …?”
“Marcella Svigani. I, um….” The woman stared at the floor; her clothes were wrinkled and coffee-stained. “I heard the military was trying to liberate Adjunct San and…see, I evacuated from our home there right before the Rasu arrived. But my partner insisted on running back to the house to grab one more bag of belongings, and then the d-gates shut down before he made it through. So I was wondering when the military will be locating survivors and
bringing them to safety?”
Perrin tried to keep the flood of sorrow off her expression, but she didn’t think she succeeded. She remembered this woman now. Ms. Svigani was one of the last people she’d helped to reach the d-gates during the evacuation.
She swayed unevenly, growing dizzy as the memory of those harrowing final minutes washed over her. The awful, ear-splitting screeches, the smoke, the crashing buildings….
“Ms. Benvenit? Are you all right?”
“What? Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I haven’t eaten today is all.” Was that true? It felt true. “Um, I received word not long ago that the military succeeded in destroying the quantum block cutting off Adjunct San earlier today. Have you tried messaging your partner?”
The woman nodded hurriedly. “I did. I’ve never stopped messaging him since I arrived here, though I knew the messages wouldn’t get through.”
“And now?”
“No response. I’m not naïve. I realize he might be injured, which is why I was wondering about the military’s plans for rescuing people who were left behind.”
Your partner is dead, ma’am. Roasted by the flames until nothing remained but biosynth bones and abandoned strands of kyoseil, or flayed open and experimented on by the Rasu until the agony from being alive killed him.
Perrin breathed in through her nose. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” How many times had she said that today alone?
“Can you find out? I mean, you know people, don’t you? People in power? People who can do things?”
People who could ‘do things.’ People who weren’t her. “I can try to find something out. You can also check at the Hataori Pavilion—that’s where the medical triage center is located. Anyone they find on Adjunct San who’s injured will be taken there. But just in case the worst…where did he keep his psyche backup?”
“San Bonded Storage on Adjunct San. We didn’t have time to stop by there and withdraw our storage before the evacuation. We thought we’d have new ones recorded when we got here.”
“I see.” She patted the woman’s shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll work out. As I said, you should check at Hataori Pavilion. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go—” She spun away and tried to keep her shoulders high as she rushed down the hall and around the corner.
Perrin, where the hells are you? We need to get all the people camped out on the fourth floor moved to the new space at the Greenwild Center before Maintenance shows up and declares the fourth floor a biological hazard.
Renewed sobs choked off the air in her lungs, and tears flowed down already soaked cheeks. All she saw in her waking vision was smoke and flames. Giant Rasu mechs rampaging toward her. Bodies in the street.
Outside the stall, the door to the lavatory opened, and she put a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound of her sobs. She couldn’t talk to another person right now. Another person who’d lost everything and wanted only to be given the slightest bit of hope for a brighter tomorrow.
Perrin, hello? The logs say you checked into the building this morning and haven’t checked out. Oh, fuck it. I’ll handle it myself.
And she certainly couldn’t talk to Katherine Colson right now. The woman was brutally efficient at organizing and managing a litany of tasks and thorny situations, and she somehow never let all this darkness get to her. Never displayed an iota of emotion—well, other than annoyance. At this moment, Perrin would give anything to be more like Katherine, which told her everything she needed to know about her current mental state.
The sound of the door opening and closing again suggested the interloper had departed, and she dropped her head against the wall wearily. With each sniffle, her thoughts went to those refugees now being shepherded off the fourth floor and onward to yet another ‘temporary’ location, many for the third time. They continued to live in a state of uncertainty, with no homes and few belongings. For some of them, like Ms. Svigani, they were now alone and heartbroken.
She should be upstairs helping them. Providing a gentler, kinder hand than Katherine wielded as she guided them to what would genuinely be a better environment. Not home, but one offering greater space and comforts. But every time she contemplated standing up and plunging back into the madness, her shoulders sagged and her chin fell to her chest. She couldn’t do it any longer.
Gods, Adlai would be so disappointed in her. He’d never say it to her face, but he wouldn’t have to. He went out there into the world every damn day and gave it his all, no matter what. He’d limped out of a tank at the regen clinic hours after flirting with death, barely able to walk, and had gone to work because he couldn’t not. Nika willingly put herself through the torture of Tartarus, fighting and dying in myriad ways to stop the Rasu in every manner she found. Joaquim fought the Rasu from beneath an overrun city for weeks, only to die a bloody death at the hands of the enemy so that others would be saved.
And here Perrin was, shirking her responsibilities to hide in a lavatory and cry because a stranger had lost someone to the Rasu.
Dammit, the only thing she’d ever wanted to do was help people. Help them find safety, security and a better life for themselves. But now, her own weaknesses were preventing her from doing this one tiny act.
The temptation to simply stop, to give up on this life, R&R herself and start fresh, was so strong. But she refused to hurt Adlai like that, refused to hurt her friends with her cowardice.
Still, something had to change.
She slapped her cheeks and blew her nose. When she was counseling refugees, she often told them to not worry about the big picture right now, and instead focus on the small steps they could take toward getting back to normal. So, perhaps she should take her own advice. Perhaps a small step was all she needed to take. To do her job, to help these poor people, to make Adlai and her friends proud.
It was time.
23
* * *
MIRAI
Hataori Renewal Clinic
Adlai Weiss paced frenetically across the clinic lobby. Perrin had sent him a message asking him to meet her here, without explanation. When he’d arrived, the receptionist told him Perrin was undergoing a procedure and should be finished in around half an hour.
Had something happened to her? Had she gotten injured in a melee at one of the refugee centers? Dammit, he was increasing security at the centers as fast as possible, but there were far more refugees than available Justice officers. If one of the people she’d tried to help had hurt her—
The doors opened and Perrin came striding out. As soon as she saw him, a smile broke across her lovely features, and she hurried over to embrace him. “I’m sorry you had to wait. It took a little longer than I expected. They’re backed up due to the high regen demand from Namino and Adjunct San. I felt bad for cutting in line, but at least I was in and out in a few hours.”
He drew back enough to study her features, searching for wounds that, by definition, would have been erased. “Are you okay? Did one of the refugees attack you?”
“Goodness, no! I just decided it was time for a minor up-gen.”
His hands fell off her shoulders and down to his sides. “You…you got an up-gen? What for?”
Her expression flickered. “I needed to tweak my emotional programming. Install a few moderators and overflow regulators to keep the negative emotions from getting away from me.”
“But Perrin—”
Now her gaze snapped up to him, carrying in it a startling fierceness. “You know how I’ve been lately. A weeping, blubbering mess, more often than not. And it started interfering with my work. I can’t help these poor, displaced refugees if I’m spending all my time crying in a lavatory.”
“You…” he shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing “…maybe you simply had a bit of degradation in your programming. Something easily fixed without anything so dramatic as an up-gen.”
“I’m not an idiot, Adlai. I asked them to check for degradation first. There was nothing wrong with the technicals of the programmin
g—only with the results.” She touched his cheek and softened her tone. “I needed to do this.”
“Why didn’t you talk to me about it first?”
“Because you would have tried to talk me out of it.”
“Yes, I would have. I love you the way you are…were.” He frowned; the words had emerged sounding direr than he’d intended. But also true. “Your pure, boundless heart is what makes you so wonderful.”
“And I still have that, I promise. But now, hopefully when my heart gets too taxed, it won’t put me on the floor.”
“You were…” the various things she was saying started to penetrate his reflexive mental block “…you broke down at work? I’m so sorry. I bet with the Adjunct San situation heating up, a lot of emotions were flaring. People were too hard on you—”
“No. See, here’s the thing. They were only asking of me exactly what I signed up to give. The fact that it was suddenly too much was all on me. If I want to continue to help in the best way I know how, I had to make a change. Now, I’ll be able to step back, realize I’m doing everything I can, remind myself how even though I can’t save the world, this doesn’t mean I can’t improve some people’s lives, and keep going.” She gripped his hand. “Adlai, this is a good thing.”
She sounded so certain. So confident and calm. No quaver in her voice, no glistening in her eyes. Had a different woman walked out of the lab than walked into it?
Nika’s Flat
Nika poured scotch into the ice-filled glass, then handed it across the kitchen counter to Adlai. “I realize this isn’t what you want to hear, but I think she did the right thing.”
He glared at her over the rim of the glass as he took a long sip, then set it a little hard on the counter. “How can you say that? How can you be so blasé about her altering a fundamental aspect of her personality on a whim?”
All Our Tomorrows Page 13
