Chase closed his eyes, a few incredulous croaks failing to coalesce into words. Sky couldn’t help giggling, because a few weeks into their relationship, Chase had done the same thing to her.
“There’s a change of pants in Danny’s quarters,” Sky said, biting back the laughter, trying to appear sympathetic. “Let me make it up to you.”
“I’m not staying for dinner,” Chase said, shaking the puke off his clothing.
“I’m not asking you to,” Sky assured, putting an arm around Hawk, gingerly taking his weight. She hoped it was drunkenness and not a return of the digestive issues that had plagued him before. Sky didn’t know how long spirit healings were meant to last, and Hawk had eaten a lot of new foods since coming here.
“Did I do something wrong?” Hawk murmured.
“No, kiddo. You lie down for a bit and I’ll—”
With a loud thump, Hawk collapsed in the middle of the floor, his head resting mere inches from the pile of puke. Sky sighed, shaking her head. “On the couch, Hawk. Lie down on the couch,” she muttered to herself.
19
Hawk awoke to a sharp prick on his thumb that sent a sickening vibration through his beer-soaked nerves. His eyes shot open, and his fist swung fast, knocking down the shadow hovering over him. The punch reverberated in his bones, amplifying the hangover headache.
“Sky!” Hawk hollered, jumping onto the couch cushions. His new couch had a lot more give than he expected, but he needed the height on his attacker. His vision swam, but eventually focused on the long, navy medic blazer around Thea’s flattened body.
“Thea?” He leapt off the couch and knelt beside her, cradling her face. “Sky, help! Sky!”
Thea groaned, her head moving side-to-side.
“I’m sorry. I—” He shook his aching hand, then noticed the beading blood on his pricked thumb. “What did you do to my hand?”
“Thea!” Tarelli hollered, her heavy shoes slamming against the catwalk, making the metal platforms rattle. She still looked overdressed for a soldier, but her stunner told Hawk all he needed to know. He dove over the couch, scrambling for cover under the stairs.
“I’m fine. I startled him,” Thea said, rubbing her bruised cheek and working her jaw.
“What’s going on?” Sikorsky demanded, peering in from middeck.
“Thea was collecting a blood sample,” Tarelli accused, coming down the stairs, staring hard at the other woman.
“Well, we skipped the whole quarantine bit of…” Thea began, then shrank back. “I thought I should…”
“Tarelli, destroy the sample,” Sikorsky frowned.
“I didn’t get the sample. He punched me,” Thea argued, pointing to the bruise on her face. Hawk cringed at the damage he’d caused his friend.
“Sky?” Hawk called, tapping his Virp. “Where are you?”
“She’s not here, Hawk,” Thea said softly. “Sit down. Let me have a look at you.”
“What are you doing here? Why is my hand bleeding?” Hawk demanded, deciding that blustering was the way out. It was what Tray would have done.
“I go where the boss goes now,” Thea said, pushing Hawk toward the couch. Hawk spun away, cradling his hand. His thumb had stopped bleeding, but it still hurt.
“Did you find anything?” Sikorsky asked Tarelli.
“The walls are solid, boss,” Tarelli said, reaching the landing and giving Hawk a threatening look. “What you’re looking for can only be found by an endemic that can use it.”
“That’s why you were both injected. If even a low-level teleportation sensitivity kicks in, you should be able to sense something. Now go. Hawk doesn’t need a medic,” Sikorsky said, pointing Tarelli to the lower deck hatch. Tarelli hesitated, but obeyed the order and pointed her weapon at Thea until Thea obeyed as well. Hawk rubbed his eyes, feeling the hangover headache pound in time with the fading adrenaline.
“Sit with me, Hawk. This is important,” Sikorsky said, taking a seat on the couch with his back to Hawk. Hawk pursed his lips. This couch was meant to be a place for him and Tray to sit and talk, to be friends, and to watch flickers, and Sikorsky was tainting it. He wished Tray were here. He glanced at his Virp, but Sky hadn’t responded.
“When you first arrived, you were very insistent that you were human,” Sikorsky began, extending his legs to a more casual posture. “Have you been accused of being otherwise?”
Hawk crept out from under the stairs. He didn’t have a weapon and there was no way he could get to one, but he’d punch Sikorsky if he had to.
“No matter. Thea wouldn’t have pricked your hand if she didn’t suspect you already,” Sikorsky said.
“She wanted my blood?” Hawk asked. Keep them talking, Tray had advised. When they’re done talking, they start shooting. “What does she suspect? What does my blood tell her?”
“It doesn’t tell her what you can do, but it will confirm that you are different,” Sikorsky smiled. He kept his gaze pointed out toward the cargo bay doors, forcing Hawk to come around the couch to face him.
“Do you need to look past my face to know that?” Hawk asked, his stomach churning.
“I’m more interested in your spirit form than your physical,” Sikorsky replied.
The blood drained from Hawk’s face and his mouth went dry. “I don’t understand,” he stalled.
The elder man sneered at him, eyes narrow, chin jutted. “You know what Sky is. You know you’re not like her. I know. I can feel it.”
“What do you feel?” Hawk asked, drawn closer to the couch, wanting to sit, but not trusting it was safe.
“I feel the power in you,” Sikorsky hummed, his voice sounding like the rumble of a starting engine. “I felt it the day we met, when you shut down the power in the pool room. It’s stronger than anything I’ve felt in a long time. With Sky gone, it’s even more pervasive.”
He stood from the couch and Hawk backed away. The intention of his gaze made Hawk feel cornered.
“She wouldn’t leave me,” Hawk said, looking down at his Virp again.
“The Cadence is missing,” Sikorsky said.
Hawk’s heart sank. He ran for the door, and scanned the port, but the Cadence was nowhere in sight. The Cadence was large enough for the pair of them; she didn’t have to steal it without him. Dropping to his knees, he panted for breath and clutched his stomach, not wanting to throw up again. Sikorsky came beside him, and Hawk could see his reflection in the man’s shiny shoes.
“I was hoping I would be able to find this portal now that whatever veil she cast has been lifted, but nothing here feels out of the ordinary to me. Except you. Are you casting a veil?”
“I could go back to Olcott,” Hawk suggested numbly.
“You liked Olcott?” Sikorsky smiled. “When you met Genova, how did she seem to you?”
Hawk shook his head. “I didn’t meet any woman. I just… met the engines.”
Sikorsky nodded his approval. “Watch out for her. Do not tell anyone what we discussed today.”
Hawk shivered. “What happens to me now that Sky is gone, too? What happens to Chase?”
“If we stop fixing the ship, I will never find my truth,” Sikorsky replied. The weight of his hand disappeared, and Hawk heard Tarelli’s footsteps behind him.
“Let’s go,” Sikorsky said.
“Sikorsky,” Hawk called, grabbing the man’s sleeve. “Can we see Tray now?”
“The fact that you haven’t already tells me what isn’t in your blood,” Sikorsky said. “I need someone who can teleport. That isn’t you.”
He strode down the ramp with Tarelli at his side. If Sikorsky knew what Sky was, then it was good that she’d escaped. If he could figure out what Hawk was from a drop of blood, then Hawk needed to escape, too.
Chase sat up on the cold, concrete floor of his old shop, eyes roaming over the empty tool racks that still showed the silhouettes of the tools. Not wanting to stay on the ship with Sky, and not wanting to travel to his empty apartment in Sienna, he�
�d been camping out in his old workshop in port. The shop had closed down with the rest of the mechanic bay, but it hadn’t been cleaned out yet. Being there made Chase sad. He remembered the port as a place bustling with action, though held back from achieving its true potential by the constant need to get supplies to Terrana. Even during the Lazaret—the five years after the Terranan Revolution when the moon refused trade—they’d still sent supply ships from Quin filled with water and hope. Danny became captain of Oriana shortly after the Lazaret ended.
Reaching for his duffle, he fished out some fresh clothes and dressed slowly. His Virp beeped, and Noelle’s smiling face appeared.
“Hello, beautiful,” he greeted, opening the channel. “Where were you yesterday?”
“In the water,” she said. She wasn’t using video, and he imagined she was walking through her morning routine same as him. “I saw you were in Olcott. Sorry I missed you.”
“I knew it was a long shot, our schedules coordinating,” he said. “I was toting around a… well, I can’t call him a swank, because he doesn’t know what money is.”
“Most ‘crats don’t,” she chuckled. “Are they mistreating you? You sound… rough.”
“Stayed out late fixing the ship,” he replied, messing his hair, testing if he needed a shower, then rubbing his unshaved face. He wasn’t clean enough for Noelle, but he was clean enough to work. “I’m killing time, fine tuning. I might be able to leave, but the kid is starting to trust me, and I’m hoping he’ll tell me what happened to Danny.”
“Who’s Danny?”
“A guy I used to work for. His brother owns the ship,” Chase dismissed. He and Danny had laughed a lot while building the Bobsled, but their friendship had always been predicated on Chase’s employment. One day, the job ended, Tray gave the ‘sled to Chase for a pittance, and Chase never heard from Danny again. “Do you think I should just try and leave?”
“Sweetie, I have to go. We’ll talk later. Love you,” she said, signing off. The projection of her face lingered, and Chase pressed the button to deactivate the Virp. They weren’t made for serious conversations about the dangerous world. They were made for cuddles, comfort, and lovemaking. Their world wasn’t supposed to have evil within arm’s reach.
Slipping on his boots, Chase trudged to the Double Wedge Pub for a quick breakfast and snacks for the day. Twenty minutes later, he was headed out again with a thermos of his patented hangover cure tucked under one arm. He figured Hawk would need it. But then he realized the port was one ship short.
Picking up pace, he hustled toward the empty lot. He’d thought it was Oriana missing, but once the shock passed, he realized it was the Cadence. Oriana’s hull was marked by avalan, which turned out to be as strong as moonslate, as far as hull materials went. Sky had told him where to get more, but mixed the details with an apology for burning the place down.
Inside the ship, Hawk lay face down on the couch in the bay, a blanket over his lower half. His tongue peeked between his dry lips, and his knuckles had bruises indicative of a fistfight.
“You look sick as a dog,” Chase commented, putting a hand on Hawk’s bare shoulder. Hawk swung his fist, but Chase jumped clear, and the momentum took Hawk off the couch.
“Whoa!” Chase cried.
Hawk blinked, grunting something that sounded vaguely like Chase’s name. Chase took the lid off his thermos and waved the spicy drink under Hawk’s nose. “Try this.”
“Oeuf? Bird?” Hawk frowned, starting in his native language, then switching to Trade. “Is that meat?”
“Berry juice with a Detox chaser,” Chase said, tugging Hawk’s elbow to help him sit. “You said you like berries?”
Hawk nodded and took a swig.
“Did you keep drinking all night?” Chase asked.
Shaking his head, Hawk stumbled off the couch, taking the thermos with him. “Sky’s gone.”
“I knew she was going to leave me with nanny duty,” Chase muttered.
“I don’t mean she went out. I mean she left. She took the Cadence, but she didn’t take me.” Climbing onto the wing of the glider, he did a nosedive into the cockpit, then curled into a ball and disappeared inside.
“Where’d she take it? It wasn’t fueled,” Chase said, climbing onto the wing of the glider.
“Terrana.” Hawk slouched in the cockpit, the thermos between his legs. “Did you see Sikorsky? Is that why you didn’t come earlier?”
“No, I didn’t, but I’m glad I missed him,” Chase said. “Did he hurt you?”
Hawk nodded and took another sip from the thermos, but he didn’t elaborate on the encounter. He ran his hand over the control panel and the panel lights came on. The Trade words had Rocanese labels taped underneath. Chase was surprised to see it light up, but after being denied his prostitute, Hawk had probably found consolation in the project.
“Is this why you’re so sleepy?” Chase asked.
Hawk nodded. “Regarde—watch.”
He ran his finger over one of the lights and it went out. Then he drew his finger up half an inch. A glowing electrical beam connected his finger to the console.
“Hawk, be careful,” Chase said. There was a loud snap and all the panel lights went dark. Hawk’s finger was red where the electrical beam burned his skin.
“What happened?” Chase asked, taking Hawk’s hand so he could examine his finger. “I’ve never seen a short like that.”
“Sikorsky said my blood would tell him about my magic,” he said, his eyes watering. His hiccups smelled like alcohol. “I don’t see where it’s supposed to go. I don’t know where to put it.”
“Put what?” Chase asked.
“The energy.” He smoothed his finger over the console, but only one light came back on. “What if nothing in Rocan works anymore because I’m not there?”
Chase couldn’t believe what his brain was telling him. “Does Sky know you can do this?”
Hawk nodded.
“Does she know you’re telling me?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter. She left me,” Hawk said. He took a sip from the thermos, then used his finger to move the light from one button on the console to another, as though he were pushing around a marble. As much as Chase had braced himself for her abandonment, he still felt jilted.
“Can you tell me what happened to Danny?” Chase tried.
Hawk shrugged, his bloodshot, brown eyes locking on Chase. “He left me, too.”
20
Sikorsky’s fingers danced delicately over the back of his hand, entering the decryption code on the incoming information packet. The secrets of endemics were protected from public channels, and it was only by virtue of his bloodlines that Sikorsky knew to search at all.
Danny Matthews was alive.
That was the information he traded. It was not difficult to know, considering he’d sold Danny the Wrangham identity a little over a year ago. What he learned in exchange was that Amanda Gray had been admitted to the same hospital in Pierce. It was perfect. She was the reason Diana Solvere came to Oriana. A Disappeared would surely have the power to help him. All he had to do was protect her.
“I know this hospital,” Thea said, crossing her arms as they approached the six story, stone building. The building was cut into the sharply sloped land to the point where the third floor exited at street level on the back side. “Ezekiel works here.”
“You buy from him, too?” Sikorsky asked, eying the young woman. She pretended to fear him, but mouthed off a lot. He’d lost all trust in her when she pricked Hawk’s hand while the man slept.
“I’m an honest citizen. Or I was before I started working for you,” Thea said, her lips twitching, her eyes fervently forward.
“I doubt that,” Sikorsky said, pulling his sleeves down to cover his gloves. Pierce was Coro’s territory, and Sikorsky was travelling without his usual entourage of protective guards. “You were innocent-looking enough to be an easy mark, but you wanted to get involved in my organization.”
“Well, I wanted work,” Thea huffed, smoothing her pedestrian clothes. Her gloves were plain and the ends ratted more than they should have been. The fact that she kept them even though he’d offered new ones told him she grew up poor. “I kind of thought I’d be treating more stab wounds.”
“Small crime is violent. We’re above that,” Sikorsky said. A poor woman familiar with the violence of small crime, yet affluent enough to acquire a doctor’s education—she was an anomaly.
“Is Ezekiel getting us in to see someone?” Thea asked.
“No. You are,” Sikorsky said, pushing her toward the door.
“Excuse me?” she protested, whipping around so fast her braided hair smacked her cheek.
“You’re a doctor. We’re here to transfer my ‘cousin’ to your personal care so that she can recover at home,” Sikorsky explained.
“She?” Thea cocked her head. She’d come here expecting Danny. Her information was cheap.
“Maya Valentino,” Sikorsky said, relaying the alias he’d had Tarelli create for the girl.
Thea’s eyes narrowed, taking the name as a sign of his distrust. But she was curious, and strode to the front desk to play her part. “I’m here about a Jane Doe you recovered. Dr. Kernighan contacted me,” she told the man at reception.
The man seemed startled by her brusqueness. His eyes flickered over Sikorsky, but he didn’t register recognition or threat. He checked his computer, then put on the unseeing glare of the perpetually offended.
“You’ll have to wait for her advocate to arrive,” he said, a hint of arrogance saying he was delighted to repay Thea’s rudeness with delay. “No one speaks to her alone.”
“Her name is Maya. She has been missing for months,” Sikorsky said, stepping closer to the desk, levying a threat with his tone. The man didn’t notice.
“You can tell the advocate when she arrives,” he replied, his fingers moving over the visual interface with no apparent goal. Sikorsky bristled. He wasn’t used to being dismissed.
The Gray Market: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 5) Page 16