“Mom?” came Jelena’s soft voice from the hatchway. Behind her, the corridor had dimmed for the night cycle. They should both be sleeping, though Alisa did not know if she could with so many thoughts racing through her mind.
“Come in.” Alisa waved her daughter to the co-pilot’s seat.
Jelena pushed herself into it. She had grown a lot since the last time they had been together, but her feet still dangled above the deck. She kicked them in the air, thumping her toes rhythmically against the base of the console.
“Anything I can do for you?” Alisa asked.
“We’re just sitting here.” Jelena waved to the view screen. It currently displayed the promenade behind the ship, the foot traffic dwindling as night fell in the dome.
“Yes, we had some business here. And we had to drop Ostberg off for medical treatment.”
“I know, but that’s done now, right?” Jelena eyed her, the “Why aren’t we leaving right away to look for Thorian?” unspoken.
“He’s in a regen tank, yes. And Durant is with him.”
“Durant.” Jelena’s face screwed up in distaste.
Alisa frowned at her. “Did he do anything… I mean, I know he kidnapped you, but did he hurt you in any way, or…” Maybe she should have already asked this, but it was an uncomfortable conversation to have.
“Nah, but he’s stupid.”
Alisa snorted. “I won’t disagree.”
“He keeps saying how I need to learn to be a lady. Which sounds super boring. And like you can’t say what you want. And then he talks about the empire, like I’m going to work for it. And like Thorian is going to work for it. We’re just kids, Mom. He’s weird.”
“The empire fell—that’s the reason I fought for all those years—and the Alliance is in charge now, so you and Thorian would have a hard time finding work if you were determined to be employed by the empire.”
“Yeah.” Jelena swung her legs some more. Thump, thump, thump. Did she even know that Thorian was the prince? Had anyone ever told her? Had Thorian? Maybe she knew but didn’t care, or didn’t quite get what being a prince meant. “Do I have to pay attention to him?”
“Who? Durant?”
“Yeah.”
“No, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”
“Good.” Jelena sounded truly relieved.
Maybe Alisa should have told her that days ago.
“Do I have to pay attention to Lady Westfall?” Jelena smiled slyly.
“Uh, probably so.” Alisa would hold back on giving a firmer answer on that until she’d had more of a chat with Westfall. Or until she could find someone else to tutor Jelena. Abelardus had offered at one point, but that had been when he thought he and Alisa would have babies together. She couldn’t imagine him being a teacher and role model to a little girl. Stanislav… She trusted him more now, since he’d sacrificed himself—or had believed he might be sacrificing himself—to save the rest of the ship. Could she imagine him teaching Jelena? Would he be interested? He had seemed curious about her, but would that translate to caring about her?
“Who’s Stanislav?” Jelena asked.
Reminding herself that her thoughts were an open page to her daughter now, Alisa said, “My father and your grandfather.”
Jelena’s face scrunched up. “I thought you didn’t have a father.”
“Technically, everybody has or had a father, but I didn’t know who mine was until recently. Your grandmother never told me about him.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure. They parted ways before I was born. Maybe she thought it wasn’t important. It sounded like she never saw him again after that. Since she’s gone, I’ll probably never know.”
“Is he like Grandpa Yuri?” Jelena asked.
Alisa snorted. “Nobody’s like Grandpa Yuri,” the man who owned eight sets of spectacles, since he constantly lost them, usually perched atop his own head. “Your dad comes—came—from a long line of quirky people.” Maybe that should have informed her that he had Starseer genes, even if he had never told her.
Jelena pulled her legs up into the seat, wrapped her arms around them, and rested her chin on her knees. “I miss Dad.”
“I know. I do too.”
Jelena squinted sidelong at her, as if she didn’t fully believe that, and that hurt.
“I know you saw… something,” Alisa said, wincing at her clumsy tongue. “I know you saw me with Leonidas. That doesn’t mean I don’t still love and miss your father.”
“Whatever,” Jelena muttered.
“He was a wonderful man. I’m glad he had you and that you had him while I was gone. And… I’m sorry that I wasn’t there with you for so long. When I signed on to help the Alliance, I didn’t imagine I would be away for years.”
Jelena shrugged a shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about Dad at all? Or… how things went in the end?” Alisa didn’t truly want to hear the details of that horrible day from Jelena’s point of view, or from anyone’s point of view, but maybe it was a story Jelena needed to tell. Maybe it would help her.
“Nah. I already did that with Thor. He lost both of his parents, you know.”
“I’d heard that, yes.” Alisa’s first thought was that a fellow child wasn’t an appropriate person to talk to about one’s problems, but maybe he’d been easier for her to trust and befriend than the adult Starseers. And Alisa hadn’t been there, so who else would she have spoken to?
Jelena nodded, as if she’d heard the thoughts and agreed.
“It’s all right, Mom. I know the Alliance was important to you.”
Alisa wanted to explain that the Alliance should be important to Jelena, too, but what could an eight-year-old care about the government? Had Alisa cared one whit about it when she’d been that age? Hells, she didn’t think she had even cared at eighteen. Not until the Perun Arcade Massacre had happened, and she had lost her best friend. Alisa hoped that the war and fighting were truly over now and that Jelena wouldn’t have to lose a best friend. But she thought of Thorian and grimaced bleakly.
“Can we get a pony?” Jelena asked.
“Er, what?”
“This ship is dented, and burned, and ugly, but it’s huge. Like a farm. And it already has chickens. And there might be ducks.”
“There won’t be ducks,” Alisa said firmly, though even she was starting to doubt that. Wasn’t the captain supposed to be the absolute ruler and decision maker on a ship? How had this aquaponics scheme come so far along? And could an aquaponics tank truly be of use to a duck? Didn’t they need beaches and grasses and slugs and all the things that went around a real pond?
“What about a horse?” Jelena asked.
“The Nomad isn’t that big. And it’s not ugly either.”
“It’s like living in a dented metal box.”
Before Alisa could argue that statement, Jelena rushed on.
“But it’s a big box. Much bigger than our apartment. I’m sure there’s room for a horse. She could have a stall in engineering!”
“She?” Her daughter had already determined the sex of her horse? How long had this speculation been going on?
“A stallion would be too rowdy.”
“I don’t think Mica would care to share engineering with a horse, rowdy or otherwise. But listen. After we get Thorian, we can head over to Upsilon Seven. There’s a whole continent there that’s dominated by grasslands, and they raise snagor and horses. There’s always cargo to pick up to run to or from there, and there are tons of riding facilities. My mom took me there when I was about your age.” As memory served, it had been because she had been making an argument very similar to Jelena’s. The Nomad was big. Why couldn’t it have a horse? When she had been musing on the topic, she hadn’t decided on the horse’s sex. A lack of forethought, perhaps.
“Can Thor come?” Jelena asked.
“If he’s allowed to stay with us for a while, certainly.”
“Why wouldn’t he be allowed to stay?”
“A lot of people have designs on him.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
Knowing her answer wasn’t satisfactory, Alisa braced herself for more interrogation. But Jelena grew distracted. She turned in her seat, peered over the backrest, and shrank down.
Alisa followed her gaze. Leonidas stood in the corridor, half turned, as if he’d spotted Jelena in there with Alisa and had decided to leave. But he’d been spotted. As quietly as he walked around, he couldn’t hide from a Starseer.
“I don’t mean to interrupt.” He lifted an apologetic hand.
“It’s fine,” Alisa said, though from the worried look Jelena wore, she might not agree. How could Alisa make it so that Jelena wasn’t afraid of Leonidas? Especially when he was avoiding them? Not that she could blame him, if he was having lustful thoughts of Alisa around her telepathic daughter. “Did you find out anything from Solstice?” Alisa asked, trying to push down thoughts that might make Jelena uncomfortable by sticking to business.
“Yes,” Leonidas said. “Solstice said we should lie low and not get involved. She let Henneberry believe that her wishes had been carried out and that we’re dead. If we’re spotted wandering about, that could cause Henneberry to lose trust in her.”
“Everyone wants me to lie low. I’m not good at that.”
“I’ve noticed.” He smiled slightly.
Jelena frowned, and he lost his smile. Great, what fond—or lustful—thought had he been having that she’d seen? Maybe Alisa should talk to Young-hee and ask her to have a chat with Jelena. Hadn’t she mentioned that it was considered rude for Starseers to pry into the thoughts of those who weren’t enemies intending to do harm? Maybe children didn’t learn that until later.
Leonidas cleared his throat. “Solstice also said, when I pressed her for the location of the meeting, that Henneberry is looking for a caterer.”
“A caterer? As in an outfit that delivers food to a party?”
“Fresh and fancy food, yes. Solstice said there should be a bulletin out there somewhere—apparently, most of the local catering companies aren’t eager to work for mafia meetings, so Henneberry hasn’t had many nibbles yet.”
“Oh, Leonidas,” Alisa breathed, her mind filling with visions of Beck turning kabobs on his grill. “This could work perfectly for us.”
“Hoping for anything to work perfectly might be overly optimistic, but I thought it might spur ideas for you.”
“I’ll tell Beck right away to start thinking up ways to turn himself into a legitimate catering company—or at least a company that appears legitimate. Maybe Yumi can help with that, create him a sys-net presence.”
“I’ll leave you alone to plot.” Leonidas glanced at Jelena, who was still frowning at him, and inclined his head toward her. “Both of you.”
“Wait,” Alisa blurted, though she didn’t know what to say next. She knew she couldn’t make Jelena like him overnight, but she needed to find a way to get the ball rolling in that direction. Otherwise, they would feel awkward around each other indefinitely. “Jelena?”
“Huh?”
“I’d like your opinion on something. A couple of weeks ago, Leonidas and I were discussing ways that he could appear less scary to people.”
Leonidas’s expression turned a little suspicious as he regarded Alisa. Funny how often people gave her such looks.
“He’s too big,” Jelena said, though that wasn’t the opinion Alisa had hoped to hear.
“That’s not his fault. His mom made him eat his spinach when he was a boy.”
Jelena also turned a suspicious look on her, probably knowing that Alisa was trying to make her laugh and make the situation seem less serious, make Leonidas seem less scary. Even if Jelena was suspicious, she wasn’t able to keep from responding.
“He ate too much then,” she said.
“He does that a lot. You should see him demolish a plate of brownies.”
Jelena looked at Leonidas, as if she had never considered that a big, brawny cyborg might eat brownies, but she kept most of her face hidden behind the backrest.
“I told him he should paint his armor pink, so that it wouldn’t be as alarming to people,” Alisa said. “What do you think about that option?”
Leonidas simply stood there while this chat went on, not contributing anything, maybe not daring. He seemed willing to be the topic of the debate though. He even slouched against the bulkhead, perhaps trying to appear less intimidating. Less big. At least he wasn’t in his armor now. He was wearing socks. Who could be alarmed by a man in socks?
“He’d be scarier in pink,” Jelena said.
“You think so?”
“For different reasons, perhaps,” Leonidas murmured.
“What if he wore stickers on his armor?” Alisa asked.
Leonidas’s lips flattened at this suggestion.
Jelena’s face screwed up in what was sure to be a rejection, but then she asked, “What kind of stickers?”
“Andromeda Android?” Alisa suggested.
“Maybe.”
“What do you think, Leonidas? Will you consider going into battle with an Andromeda Android sticker on your fanny?”
“I’d rather be Beck’s assistant caterer,” Leonidas said.
Alisa grinned, amused—and pleased—that he’d learned just how her mind worked and knew she was already concocting a catering plan.
“Well, that’s definitely going to happen,” Alisa said, “so I guess stickers could happen, too, eh?”
“I’m going to bed,” Leonidas said. “Goodnight, Alisa. Goodnight, Jelena.”
He walked away. Hurried away, was perhaps the more appropriate term.
Well, at least Jelena hadn’t been the one to flee the room.
“He’s weird,” she said.
Alisa tried to decide if that was better than being scary.
Jelena turned around in the seat again. “Will you tell me more about Stanislav?” she asked.
She sounded more intrigued by the idea of having another grandfather than by having a Leonidas. Oh, well. They had to start somewhere.
“Absolutely,” Alisa said, and started telling the story of how she’d found out about him and about how she had Starseer genes.
She hoped she wasn’t getting her daughter’s hopes up about a grandfather that she would never meet.
• • • • •
Alisa curled her armored fingers into fists and punched the hover pads floating in the air in front of her, their engines humming softly, little puffs sounding as they whirred about. She connected with one, but the other zipped away too quickly. A small indicator on the side of the one she’d hit showed the force of her blow. The one that had evaded her circled, trying to get behind her. She whirled, almost overcompensating, thanks to the speed the armor gave her, and slung another punch. She missed by embarrassing inches, and the pad zipped in and smacked her in the helmet. She lunged for it, now swatting instead of punching, trying to grab the thing and wring its little padded body.
“I thought that armor would make you more of a warrior, not less of one,” Mica said. She was walking around engineering, running tests and recording results.
“The armor isn’t what’s vexing me. Leonidas programmed these things to harass me.”
“Harass you or challenge you?”
“I think the difference in those definitions is in the eye of the beholder. Also known as the victim.”
Alisa dodged another attack. She shouldn’t complain. Beck and Yumi had found the posting for the catering gig and applied. If their fictitious company was hired, Alisa might need every bit of extra training she could get. Catering for one’s enemies sounded like an activity that would be fraught with complications.
“Have I told you how delighted I am that you’re grunting, straining, and complaining with me here in engineering?” Mica asked.
“Six times now, yes. But I could read between the lines that you were lonel
y in here by yourself.” Alisa ducked as one of the pads zipped toward her helmet again. “Halt program,” she said, needing a break. Sweat bathed her skin. Even though the air suckers kept moisture from dripping down and off her chin, she itched to simply drag her sleeve across her face, but she couldn’t do that with the helmet on.
“You just didn’t want to practice out in the cargo hold in front of the Starseers, and there isn’t anyplace else on the ship large enough.”
“You know me well. I—” Alisa paused as Yumi jogged into engineering wearing a distressed expression.
“Has trouble found us?” Alisa unfastened her helmet.
Thanks to the warnings from multiple directions telling her to lie low, she hadn’t yet flown the Nomad away from Solstice’s domed city. Her sensors informed her that the Alliance warship was still up in orbit, along with several other Alliance ships. Alisa figured it was too large to enter the dome, and she felt safer down here than she would up in the sky. But that could all change if they sent shuttles down with teams of soldiers to “rescue” Tiang.
“Mm, trouble has found me.” Yumi looked to Mica first, then threw a hesitant glance at Alisa.
Alisa thought about leaving so they could talk. Yumi probably hadn’t expected to find her here. But if this trouble could affect the ship, shouldn’t she know about it?
“Nosy, nosy,” she muttered to herself.
“Captain?” Yumi asked.
“Nothing. What’s your trouble? Can I help?”
“As long as you keep the cargo hatch door shut and locked.”
“Oh, I’ve been doing that since Durant left.” Alisa clasped her hands behind her back, waiting curiously to see if she would get more details.
Yumi chewed on her lip.
“You better tell her,” Mica said. “It’s not like she kicked Beck off when she found out the White Dragon was after him. Twenty seconds after he signed on.”
End Game Page 8