Star Crossed

by C. Gockel

  “Perhaps.” He was quiet for a moment. “What is ET?”

  “It’s slang for someone not of our world. A shortened version of extra-terrestrial.”

  “I see.”

  He didn’t look like he did. He did look from her to Hawkins, clearly undecided about something.

  “I am Commander Gaedon, of the Gadi Federation.”

  He gave a sort of half bow. His smile was a bit reserved, but still charming. Sara wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the bow. She’d missed the class on how to curtsey to an alien dignitary—and the zoombag was pretty curtsey resistant. She settled for nodding her head in what she hoped was a dignified way.

  “Captain Sara Donovan, United States Air Force. That’s Captain John Hawkins, my wingman.”

  He nodded politely in Hawkins direction. Then he pointed at her P-90.

  “That is a weapon?”

  “A P-90.” Sara didn’t make the mistake of touching it. “Be happy to show you how it works.”

  “Perhaps another time.” He was quiet for a moment. Maybe he was still assimilating her whole, female warrior thing. “United States? Is that what you call your planet?”

  Sara exchanged look with Hawkins. “We’re from Earth, sir. The United States is our country.”

  “Earth? We are not familiar with earth.”

  “Not surprising. We’re intergalactic explorers—”

  His eyes widened.

  “—just checking out the neighborhood. Didn’t come to pick a fight with anyone but we found one. A Dusan ship attacked us shortly after our arrival here.”

  “It is their way. From another galaxy.” He clearly found this very interesting. “A pity so you are all that is left of your expedition?”

  “No, sir.”

  His eyes widened.

  “We blew up their big ship. And all their little ones.”

  His eyes widened even more.

  “Not long after that, another ship approached our position, claiming to be Gadi, but they didn’t look or act like you.”

  This made Gaedon’s eyes narrow and his jaw hardened.

  “They pretended they wanted to talk with us about an alliance, then attacked us without provocation. So…we spanked them. They took their toys—and their Gadi vessel—and went home.”

  It looked like she’d given him something to think about—if he understood what she said. Had he got the part where they kicked Dusan trash?

  “What brought you to this sector and in such small numbers?”

  “We just came to look around. As I said, we are explorers and explorers explore. It’s like, a requirement. If you don’t explore, they kick you out of the explorer’s club.”

  His lips twitched.

  Sara glanced around. Not one guy had got tired and lowered his weapon. The staring was getting a little old. Particularly when they were all guy stares.

  “Are there any other women on this vessel?”

  “You are the first.”

  That was good. On the other hand…

  She looked around again. “So how long you been away from home?” Even a homely girl might start to look good if it had been a long time.

  He smiled, as if he knew what she was really asking.

  “We are not like the Dusan.”

  “That’s good.”

  Did his gaze sharpen a bit at that? Sara wasn’t sure.

  “Which one of you speaks for your people?”

  Sara looked at Hawkins. He looked at her.

  She was pretty sure Kilburn wouldn’t want either of them speaking for their people.

  “We’re soldiers, not diplomats, but I’m in charge of this mission.”

  His brows arched, but he didn’t look displeased. He might have looked a bit surprised. Obviously he hadn’t quite got past the whole girl-warrior thing.

  “We have people, well, a person, who talks for us in this galaxy. He really likes to do it, too. Whines when he doesn’t get to. If I could contact our people—”

  “For now, we will keep the discussions between us.” His lips twitched again. “If they go well, we will see.”

  Okay, no pressure.

  “We can’t talk here. But I will need you to remove your weapon. I’m sure you understand why it is necessary.”

  It was all very friendly, except for all the gomers who tensed and edged closer with all their ray guns pointed right at her. She exchanged a look with Hawkins. He shrugged. It wasn’t like she had a choice.

  “Sure.” She jumped up on the wing of her bird and retracted the top. Taking care to hold it in a non-threatening way, she removed her P-90, and dropped it on the seat. She turned around and put hands on the back of her head.

  Gaedon looked confused. “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting to be searched?”

  All the faces she saw looked alarmed. Most of them now took a half step away from her. They really weren’t like the Dusan.

  Gaedon looked equally alarmed. “Surely that is not do I have your word that what you have removed is sum of your weapons?”

  Sara looked at him for a moment. “That depends.” She nodded toward his men. “Are we prisoners?”

  He met her gaze for a long moment. “You are guests.”

  She arched her brows and looked at the armed gomers.

  “Not feeling like a guest.” She kept her hands clasped behind her head.

  A small smile flickered across his face. He made a sharp gesture. Most of the weapons were lowered. Sara lowered her hands.

  “Thank you. To complete my disarming process, I need to de-bag—sorry, I need to take my flight suit off?” She put a hand on the zipper. “Okay?”

  His brows arched, but he nodded in a courtly way. It was pretty smooth.

  Sara looked around. They were all still looking at her. Hard not to feel like a stripper at a bachelor party, even if she were fully clothed underneath. Great. She turned her back on them and ran the zipper down, and then she started to slip it off one shoulder.

  “Eyes right,” the commander suddenly barked.

  Sara looked over her shoulder and saw all the men looking away from her. The commander looked embarrassed. She grinned at Hawkins. He grinned back. Didn’t look away. In fact, he leaned against his bird like a man prepared to enjoy a show. She stuck her tongue out at him.

  She realized the commander saw it. He looked a bit startled.

  Sara managed to finish getting clear of her zoombag without too much working of the money maker. Sometimes it paid to be a thin girl. She also managed to turn her radio to box, once her ABU’s were clear of her bag. She tossed her bag on the seat with her other stuff, carefully removed her nine mil and knife—after her experience with Fyn she started carrying them on her person—and then put her boot on the side, lifted her pant leg, and removed the knife from its sheath and dropped it into the cockpit with her other stuff. She lifted her other pant leg and removed that knife—a recent addition to her defensive armament—and added it to the pile. She was tempted to toss in the knife strapped to her back, just for effect, but she hated to lose it. They’d been through a lot together. She locked her bird down again, then set the self-destruct on both ships—just in case. Would he notice she hadn’t given her word that was all her armament?

  “Thank you.”

  Apparently not.

  His nod was once again courtly, but his eyes were a little wide.

  “That was a lot of armament.”

  “I wasn’t a Boy Scout, but still like to be prepared.”

  Now he looked confused. It was hard to crack a joke in this galaxy.

  He studied her clothing, though without the creepy overtones of Adin. Her pants didn’t reveal much and she was glad the top was loose fitting. It bulked her up a bit. Removed the curves.

  “We must proceed in this direction,” Gaedon said, with a gesture that was as courtly as his nod. Maybe she could get him to show her how he did that with such flair. Not something you learned in a trailer park—at least not the ones she’d
frequented.

  Sara dropped down and walked up to him, aware four guards fell in behind her.

  Hawkins didn’t look happy. He straightened, like he wanted to do something, but wasn’t sure what.

  She gave him a reassuring look. “I’m sure I won’t be long.”

  She saw his eyes flicker as he realized she was on box. He leaned against his bird again, his arms crossed.

  The commander looked at her. “It is clear you are comrades in arms. You communicate with your eyes.”

  “All I was communicating was that I’d be fine. Don’t want him to get agitated and hurt someone when things are so friendly. But I feel I should warn you, our ships are armed with self-destruct mechanisms. If they are interfered with, they will make a mess of this lovely landing bay—and any of your men who happen to be close by.”

  He looked at her for a long moment.

  “A wise precaution.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  They stopped when they reached some kind of exit.

  “We need to take the lift.” He pressed a button beside the doors. They slid open and Sara stepped in, followed by the commander and the guard detail.

  “So, in your world, women fight beside the men?”

  “Not all of them,” Sara said. “Our military is volunteer.”

  He clearly found that interesting. “A volunteer army would have certain strengths.” He looked at her. “Why would a woman such as your self volunteer to be a warrior?”

  Sara had to grin.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I was just thinking what I told the Dusan who asked me that.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “That I joined because I wanted to travel to new places, meet people and kill them.” She smiled at Gaedon.

  That got a chuckle out of him. His guards choked a bit. Sara looked at them.

  “That’s what the Dusan did. Choked just like that.”

  “You are truly a soldier,” Gaedon said, his gaze sobering.

  “I am, sir. This talk we’re going to have, I’m a bit worried. Usually we let the diplomats do the talking. I don’t want to goon things up.”

  He smiled. “You seem to be managing.”

  It was a no, wrapped in a compliment but still a no. Sara sighed.

  The doors slid open to a busy corridor that was rather fancy. Again, there was function, but attention had been paid to form as well. The walls were a soft green, the floor a darker green tile of some kind. It felt firm, but had some give to it. Unlike the Doolittle, that had a lot in common with a submarine or a naval ship in the way its doorways were configured—the doorways in this ship were graceful arches. No doors latched back and not a spec of gray anywhere.

  Gaedon indicated a left turn, then fell into step beside her.

  “I find myself wanting to ask you if we’ve met before, even when I know it is not possible.”

  Crap.

  “On my planet, that would be a lame pick-up line, but you make it sound like a compliment, sir.” Sara smiled at him, hoping her sudden unease didn’t show. “You are very different from the Dusan.”

  Gaedon looked pleased. “The Dusan are a plague. Not much is known of their culture, but in our contacts with them, they have proved themselves to be both brutal and untrustworthy.”

  He stopped in front of a door, turning to look at her.

  “When the new leader came to power, Adin Xever—”

  Sara jerked, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  “I had some hope of change. He was young and didn’t seem as set in the old ways of his people. Not a lot of information gets out, but what we do know, is not encouraging.”

  Since the “old ways” involved lots of guilt-free sex, Sara couldn’t see Adin changing either. Suddenly she felt Gaedon looking at her.

  “You have encountered Adin Xever, have you not?”

  Sara nodded reluctantly. She didn’t really want to talk about Adin. “He was the one who approached us, claiming to be Gadi.” Her insides tightened.

  “He is dead?”

  “No.”

  “A pity.”

  “No kidding.”

  He touched a panel by the door and it slid open, revealing a room that looked a lot like a living room. The color of the walls was soft and relaxing and there were chairs and a couch. Gaedon indicated she should enter. It was a pleasant office. A desk sat off to one side by a view screen and a comfortable looking sitting area was anchored by a couch. There was a small shelf of books. And he had some lovely artwork on the walls. She stopped to admire a couple of pieces, but then noticed something that looked a bit like a piano in the corner.

  “What’s this?” It was like finding a friend when she didn’t expect it.

  “It is a harmonious.”

  He lifted the cover off the keys. The keys were all the same level, longer and gray in color. And the keyboard seemed shorter.

  “May I?” Sara looked at him.

  “You are a harmonium?”

  “I have no idea.” She sat on the bench and tried out one of the keys. It felt stiffer than her keyboard, and it was terribly out of key. “Do you play this?”

  “I have not the skill.”

  She tried a few more keys. “It’s badly out of tune.”

  “You have something like this in your world?”

  Sara nodded. “We call it a piano. Our keys are different, not quite so stiff and we have shorter keys between the long ones, so we don’t have to reach so far to hit notes. How long since someone has tuned it? Or played it?”

  “A very long time.”

  Sara got up and walked around it. The top appeared to be tightly fitted, but it had to open—there it was. A latch. She popped the top up. Gaedon made a small sound of protest.

  “I won’t goon this up. No talking required.” She gave him a quick smile, as she pulled a screwdriver out of her pocket. “Never go any where without this.”

  She turned her cap bill to the back and peered into the guts of the harmonious. It wasn’t that different from a piano on the inside. The strings looked like wire. The wood looked worn, but no signs of rot. She tapped the middle key, then tightened the wire, working it until she got a nice, clear C-tone. Because there were fewer keys, it didn’t take that long to get it back in key enough to try it out. Gaedon, to his credit, watched her quietly during what had to be a rather painful process. Hawkins probably hadn’t enjoyed it much either. She lowered the top, stowed the screwdriver.

  “See,” she spread her fingers out as wide as they’d go, “I can barely make that chord and I have long fingers. If we don’t end up shooting at each other, you’ll have to come aboard our ship and see my keyboard.”

  She smiled at him. He had a kind of odd look on his face.

  “I look forward to it.”

  She tried a bit of Fur Elise. Gaedon smiled, as if the sound pleased him. Probably because it was lady-like. She stopped, mentally figured out the chords, then slammed into the opener for Great Balls of Fire. Gaedon jumped about a foot, maybe more. He made a move, like he wanted to stop her, so Sara did, trying not to grin.

  “It is very old,” he said weakly.

  Sara caressed the soft wood. “It’s beautiful. You should keep it in tune. And learn to play it. Pianos liked to be played.”

  “You like harmonies.” Something in his voice made her feel edgy.

  “Well, we call it music, but yeah. It relaxes me.” She itched to try it again, but made herself turn away. Sara crossed to the view port and looked out. They had to be at the top, or close to the top of the ship. It was an amazing sight. The Gadi shipped looked huge from this vantage point. The shape reminded her a bit of a sub, with the part she was in sort of like a very large conning tower, only more elegant. She looked out into space and just for a moment, saw herself, the way she’d been that day she met Evie. From a trailer park to a freaking alien ship. Dang.

  “You are very far away,” Gaedon said, stopping next to her.

 
; “I suppose I was.” She leaned her forehead against whatever it was that was between her and space. It was as cool as glass and almost soothing. For the first time since she’d left, she felt a sharp stab of homesickness, a longing for the familiar, the comfortable, the dull, the non-alien.

  “You are sad.”

  Sara looked at him, her eyes shuttering by instinct. She shrugged. “Just thinking how far away home is.”

  “Home on your planet?”

  Sara nodded. Not that she had one there, but suddenly it was all home, the whole big third rock from the sun, gomers and all.

  She straightened her back, clasping her hands behind her back.

  He looked a bit wry. “Now you look like a soldier again. For a moment you looked…” He hesitated. “That is perhaps why I didn’t see it right away. Did it take Adin Xever long to notice the resemblance?”

  Sara felt her insides twist, but she answered him calmly. “He noticed it right away, but I wasn’t wearing my uniform the first time we met.”

  He went to the desk, opened a drawer and removed a folder. He opened this, spreading pictures, drawings actually, across the surface. Miri. Whoever had drawn the sketches had been in love with her. It was there in every line of every drawing. There was one with her hands spread across the keys. Her head was tilted and she smiled, but her eyes were shadowed and sad.

  “The likeness is quite remarkable, now that I can see past the warrior. There are slight differences, one would expect that after so much time, but you have her eyes.” He removed her cap again, tossing it aside this time. “And you have her hands.”

  His gaze was curious, not avid like Adin’s had been, but that didn’t make Sara feel any better.

  “The harmonious belonged to her. When you sat down to play it, that’s when I saw her.”

  As he studied her, she could feel herself folding in, retreating deep inside. When she looked at the drawings, she didn’t see herself in them. Miri had lived a different life, had different experiences. Sara felt oddly calm now that it was out there. It had happened. At least that part was behind her.

  “And what was Miri to whoever drew these?”

  “An alliance was arranged between my people and the Garradians, Miri’s people. But it was more than an arrangement between nations. Their hearts beat for each other.”