“Tell me about it.” Arabelle flourished a hand at her own petite body.
“Do you ever feel like people don’t notice you?” Cassia asked. “Whenever I make deliveries with the crew, the warehouse workers barely look at me. They glance at whoever’s tallest, and then they start talking like I’m not even in the room.”
“Yep.” Arabelle nodded. “But that can actually be a good thing.”
“How so?”
“You can learn a lot if you blend in and listen.”
Intrigued, Cassia slid onto the bench.
“Fleece had a lot of shady people working for him,” Arabelle said, pushing a cup of iced tea across the table as she took the opposite bench. “Shady but smart. A while ago, two of his tech guys were talking about how to hack transmissions—and how to keep from being hacked. They said all it took was tweaking the advanced system controls.” She took a long pull of tea and smiled. “So I restored Fleece’s transmitter to factory settings.”
Cassia gasped. “That’s how my team is hacking him.”
Arabelle lifted a shoulder. “It felt good to get back at him in some small way.”
“What about the Banshee’s settings?”
“Renny already asked me to check. They’re secure. I don’t know how Fleece was trailing us yesterday, but I don’t think it had anything to do with our transmitter.”
“Did Fleece ever say why he was in the fringe to begin with?” Cassia asked. “I mean, I assume the mafia’s making a power grab outside their territory, but what’s his role?”
Arabelle frowned as she nursed her tea. “I’ve been thinking about that ever since you said he was killing pirate lords. Fleece was always tight-lipped, but I heard him mention Daro the Red once or twice. He’d been planning the hits for months. I think that’s why Ari Zhang sent him out here, to clear the way for some kind of expansion.”
“But what can the mob do in the fringe that they can’t do on Earth?” Cassia wondered aloud. It was true the outer realm had no laws, but Ari Zhang had successfully operated outside the law for decades, mostly because he had half the Solar League in his pocket. Expanding into the fringe didn’t make sense from a business standpoint, either. Most of the galaxy’s wealth was concentrated on Earth, so Zhang should fight to stay there, not leave. “Even if the mafia wins a foothold in pirate territory, they’ll have to spend a fortune on security to keep it. What’s the point when most of the fringe settlers are too poor to gamble or hire a hit man?”
“Desperate people can always find the money.”
“But there has to be more to it than that. Maybe he’s tired of paying off politicians and wants to move his business where there aren’t any rules.”
“Politicians…” Arabelle repeated. “I just remembered something. It happened so long ago that I almost forgot. The night Zhang sold me to Fleece, I heard him mention a bill that had failed. I guess he wanted a law passed, but he couldn’t buy off enough politicians to do it. About a month later, Fleece and I were in the fringe.”
Cassia wondered if the bill was a matter of public record. She doubted it.
“I didn’t think much about it at the time,” Arabelle continued, and gave a sad smile. “I had other things on my mind.”
Cassia reached out and covered Arabelle’s hand. “Of course you did. Living with Fleece must have been awful.”
Arabelle stared into her tea, paling a shade. “It was.”
“I can relate, at least a little bit,” Cassia shared. “Renny probably told you about the bounty hunters who took me. It happened right here in this town, about half a mile away. That was the worst experience of my life, and it only lasted a few weeks. I can’t imagine how you stayed sane.” She squeezed Arabelle’s hand. “How long were you with him?”
“I don’t know. About a year, I guess.”
“Who did you work for before then?”
“Before when? I’ve always belonged to Fleece.”
Cassia wrinkled her forehead. Maybe she’d misunderstood. She thought Ari Zhang had taken Arabelle immediately after Renny had picked his pocket and left Earth. “You said Zhang came for you because he couldn’t find Renny. He wanted revenge, and he knew that Renny loved you, so hurting you was the next best thing.”
“Right.”
“How long did he look for Renny?”
“A day or two. At first he wanted me to lure Renny out of hiding. Once he heard Renny was long gone, he sold me to Fleece.”
“But that was more than two years ago.”
“No, it’s only been a year.”
“Belle…” Cassia tentatively tried out the nickname and was rewarded by a soft smile from her bunkmate. “I’ve lived on this ship ever since I ran away from home. That was more than two years ago, and Renny was already here as the first mate.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ask the crew if you don’t believe me. Or check the ship’s log.”
“Huh.” Arabelle stared ahead in confusion while wrapping a curl around one finger. “Maybe I lost track of time. That’s easy to do in space, right?”
Cassia nodded, though a year was a lot of time to lose. More likely Arabelle had blocked out large chunks of memories that were too painful to relive. “So what’s next for you?” she asked, changing the subject. “Do you have family on Earth?”
“A few cousins, but I can’t go home and risk Zhang finding me. I think I’ll stay here for a while.” Belle peeked up, and her cheeks turned pink. “It’s nice to have Renny back. I’m trying to take things slow, but it feels like a second chance for us.”
“What changed your mind about him?”
“The way he fought for me yesterday,” Arabelle said with pride. “He would’ve died before letting Fleece take me, or any of you. He’s always been like that, completely devoted to the people he loves.”
“You still love him.” It wasn’t a question. Words were easy to fake, but Cassia had never met anyone who could blush at will.
Belle propped both elbows on the table, leaning in as if to share a secret. “I never stopped. There’s no one like Renny. He’s the kind of man a girl can’t forget.”
Cassia agreed on all counts.
At that moment, the boarding ramp’s motorized pulley whirred from the level below, followed by the clattering of boots against metal. Doran and Solara reached the galley, with Kane right behind them. They brought the scent of fire on their clothes.
“Why do you smell like smoke?” she asked, and then instantly forgot the question when she saw Kane’s hands. They were swollen and streaked with blood from where the skin across his knuckles had split open. “What happened?”
He shrugged and peered longingly at her tea. “I fell.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, handing him her cup. “Fist-first into someone’s face.”
“No, really—”
“Save it.” She could tell he’d been fighting. Physical evidence aside, he had that drowsy sheen in his eyes, the mark of someone coming down from an adrenaline high. “You need sutures. Whoever you hit had a sharp jaw.”
“Yeah, well, it was worth it.”
The loathing in his voice made it clear that this had been no ordinary brawl over a missed payment at the warehouse. This fight had been personal.
“Oh no.” She began to see the real reason for this detour. “What did you do?”
He dodged the question by chugging her tea, and then Renny came power-walking through the galley like his boots were fueled by Infinium. Without a backward glance, he continued up the stairs to the pilothouse and called over one shoulder, “We ruffled a few feathers in town, so everyone hold tight and prepare for takeoff.”
“Renny!” she hollered after him. “You didn’t have to do this!”
“Priorities, Cassia.” Before his voice faded into the distance, he left her with one last reply. “Now, quit arguing and strap in.”
The next evening Kane returned to his quarters to change before dinner. He was so distracted by the tomato sauce he’d spi
lled down the front of his best shirt that by the time he noticed the sock tied to his door handle, it was too late. He flung open the hatch and caught a fleeting glimpse of Renny and Arabelle in all their glory.
He whipped around and darted into the hall, but not fast enough to stop the image from haunting his retinas. It reminded him of the time he’d caught his parents in the act during one of his father’s rare visits, and he felt the overpowering urge to shampoo his eyeballs. Why couldn’t Renny bolt the door like a normal guy?
Arabelle came out a minute later, her face nearly as red as her hair as she straightened her skirt and fled down the hallway.
It was going to be an awkward supper.
Kane knocked twice. “You decent, Captain?”
“Rarely so, but it’s safe to come in.”
Even though he’d watched Arabelle leave, Kane peeked around the room before stepping all the way inside. Thankfully, Renny was clothed and facing the rear wall. “Sorry,” Kane said as he slipped the sock free and tossed it onto the top bunk. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“No, it’s all right,” Renny told him, though the strain in his voice indicated otherwise. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Kane didn’t really want to talk, not with the image of his captain’s keister fresh in his mind. But as Renny blocked the path to the clean clothes, there wasn’t much of a choice.
“I’ve made a lot of progress with Belle,” Renny said.
“Yeah.” Kane scratched the back of his neck. “I noticed.”
“Things are going well.”
Kane didn’t like where this discussion was headed.
“Really well,” Renny emphasized.
“Aw, come on, Captain. All I want is a clean shirt.”
“What I’m trying to say is Belle and I are together now. So…” Renny trailed off, peering above his glasses as if the rest of the message should be clear. Finally, he blurted, “I need you to bunk somewhere else.”
“Oh.” Kane mentally smacked his own forehead. “Right, no problem.”
“Maybe you can bunk with Cassia. You two are getting along again.”
That was true, though the suggestion that he room with Cassia was like inviting an alcoholic to live in a distillery. But as his only alternative was the cold cargo-hold floor, he filled a box with his clothes and grabbed his pillow on the way out the door to his old quarters.
The room was vacant when he dropped off his box. He wondered if Arabelle was off somewhere breaking the news to Cassia. He hoped so, because he didn’t want that job. After changing into a clean shirt and leaving the stained one to soak in the washroom, he returned to the galley and dished out six bowls of tomato soup with toasted chickpeas.
The crew gathered at the table, with Cassia and Arabelle bringing up the rear. As soon as he glanced at Cassia, he could tell she knew about the change in their sleeping arrangements. She wore the same look of concern that he felt inside.
Renny lifted his cup and motioned for everyone to do the same. “We officially have a new crew member. I think this calls for a toast—to Belle.”
“To Belle,” everyone repeated over the sound of clinking mugs.
Arabelle took Renny’s hand and gazed at him with so much tenderness that Kane had to look away.
“Now that you’re one of us, there’s no avoiding it,” Solara said. “You have to ask a question.”
Arabelle smiled as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “I already thought of a good one. Would you rather have one wish granted today, or five wishes granted three years from now?”
“Neither,” Renny said, and kissed the inside of her palm. “My wish already came true.”
The whole crew groaned and threw their napkins at him.
Renny shrugged. “It did.”
“I’d take mine today,” Cassia said, retrieving her napkin.
“Me too,” Kane agreed. “We’re up against the mob. What’s the point of five wishes if I don’t live to spend them?”
Doran delivered a fist bump across the table. “You said it. I heard another pirate lord turned up dead—the same guy who took over sector two after the last chief died. I don’t know how Fleece is picking them off so fast.”
“I heard the same thing.” Cassia frowned at her soup. “Yesterday he put his transmissions on lockdown. It’s like he heard us talking about him and fixed his system settings.”
Arabelle didn’t say anything, but the cherubic grin left her face.
“Since all of you are taking your wishes now, I’ll save mine,” Solara said. “As much trouble as we get into, I’m sure they’ll come in handy three years from now.”
Kane didn’t want the topic to drift back to the mafia, so he nudged Cassia’s ankle with his boot. “It’s your turn. Next question.”
She alternated a few glances between her soup and his face, warning him that she had something on her mind. She couldn’t seem to look at him when she asked, “Would you rather tell nothing but the truth, or nothing but lies?”
He hadn’t expected such an easy question. “The first one. I always say what I’m thinking anyway.”
“Always?” she asked. “Even when you close a deal?”
“Especially during a deal. I might present the truth in a way that benefits me, but I don’t tell outright lies. Trust is too important for business.”
“So you’re saying you never lie?”
He paused and studied her for a moment. He sensed this was about him, but he didn’t know what he’d done to upset her. “Is there anything you’d like to get off your chest?”
Everyone at the table grew still.
“Would you be honest with me if I did?”
“Enough, already. If you have something to say, come out with it.”
“All right.” She set down her spoon and folded both arms on the table. “Do you think I should abdicate the throne?”
Her question caught him off guard. Of course he wanted her to give up the throne—he always had. There was no other way for them to be together as equals. She had to know he wanted that more than anything.
“Do you agree with the rebels,” she continued, “that I should step down and amend the charter so they can elect a new leader?”
“Ah,” he said in understanding. Those were two very different questions. “Not exactly polite dinner conversation, is it?”
“You promised to be honest.”
“I don’t think you want the answer.”
She sank an inch, peering at him with enough hurt in her eyes to make him wish he could take it back. “That’s an answer in itself. You support the rebellion.”
“No, I don’t,” he said, which was the truth. “Maybe I agree with what they want, but I don’t support the way they’re going about it.”
“You wouldn’t agree with them if you’d seen what the colony looked like before I took over. It was a black hole of chaos. I accomplished so much by the time you came home. How can anyone say I’m not a good leader?”
“You’re an amazing leader, Cassy. No one disputes that. But can you name the last monarch who cared as much or tried as hard as you do?”
She opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Neither can I,” he said. “Because the royals never earned their power. They ruled by birthright. They were never accountable for anything, and that made them lazy and corrupt for so long that now no one trusts them—any of them. Not even you.” He repeated what Badger had told him weeks ago. “You can be the best ruler in Eturian history, but that doesn’t mean your children will be. Don’t you think we should choose our leaders based on skills instead of bloodlines?”
She surprised him by saying, “Yes, I do.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is the chaos. It’s too soon for a change this big.”
“Maybe now,” he agreed. “But what about in the spring or the fall?”
“Still too soon. This needs to be a gradual transition.�
�
“How gradual?”
“I don’t know, but definitely during my lifetime.”
“During your lifetime?” he repeated. “You’re only eighteen. Your lifetime could span the next seventy years. What if something happens to you before you amend the charter? The other houses will take back their thrones. The people shouldn’t have to wait another lifetime to choose. Hold an election.”
“Like the elections on Earth? The ones that gave power to the same men who took bribes from Ari Zhang and then looked the other way when we needed protection from Marius?”
“Not all politicians are corrupt,” Renny interjected.
“Enough of them are,” Cassia said, looking only at Kane. “Enough that voters can’t tell the difference anymore. I love Eturia. I’ll devote my life to it. But if I let the colonists choose, they’ll pick the candidate with the best promises and the smoothest lies. You know how they are.”
Kane shook his head at her. For someone who claimed to love Eturia, she had a low opinion of its colonists.
“You’re my best friend,” she went on. “You of all people should have faith in me.”
“Hey, you wanted honesty,” he reminded her. “Don’t be mad at me for giving you what you asked for. If what you really want is someone to smile and nod and say ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ then go talk to your general. I respect you too much to blow smoke up your ass. That’s how you know I’m your friend.”
They both fell silent after that, and for the first time since the argument began, they glanced around at the crew they’d neglected. Four pairs of eyes shifted uncomfortably from face to face while a layer of film dulled their untouched tomato soup.
Kane offered a self-deprecating grin and picked up his spoon. “Here’s my vote: let’s not talk politics at the dinner table.”
“Or religion,” she added with a stiff smile of her own.
“Still friends?” he asked her.
“Of course,” she told him.
And then they didn’t talk to each other for the rest of the night.
They exchanged a few words the next day, but only as necessary, like when responding to a knock on the bedroom door with “Wait a minute, I’m not dressed,” even though they’d seen it all before.
Starfall Page 16