by Rachel Ford
There was, he saw, a long entry that coincided, date-wise, with the first arrest. He opened it.
It was the record of a Dr. Kel’s medical offices, and it was filled with physician-speak that quite eluded the captain. Still, he understood the general meaning. Grel Idan had been treated for broken ribs and a fractured sternum. He’d had a testicle removed. Elgin found himself crossing his legs in some kind of subconscious horror as he read, Patient sustained intense tissue damage to testicle and inner thigh from direct contact with submission prod.
Elgin felt his stomach twist. Whether it was solidarity or just plain fear, his own testicles seemed to want to crawl back inside his body at the idea of that. Even in safety, men never felt quite so vulnerable as they did when reminded of the vulnerability of male reproductive organs; and Captain Elgin was no outlier.
He sat for a moment in uncomfortable reflection. It seemed to him beyond comprehension that a man with broken ribs and a ruptured testicle – no matter how determined a terrorist he was – would pick a fight with four armed protectors. It didn’t fit with what he’d seen in the apprehension video. It didn’t fit with Dr. Kel’s description of his injuries.
In a minute, Elgin brought up his conference panel. He selected the Office of Protection, and from the directory, he pulled up the commanding officer, a Sergeant Dru. He dialed.
The line rang long, and Elgin began to suspect his call might not be answered. But then a square jawed, graying head filled his view. “Dru here.”
“Sergeant, this is Captain Elgin of the TS-Supernova.”
“Ah.” The officer brightened. “I hear your men will be backing up my boys, if we need help.”
“That’s right.”
“Excellent. What can I do for you, Captain?”
“I’m wondering if you can help me access a file.”
Dru frowned. “A file?”
“Yes. I was reviewing the incident from this morning. But the video that shows the actual death seems to be missing or unavailable.”
“Ah. Yes.” Dru nodded. “I’m afraid that’s true.”
It was Elgin’s turn to frown. “All shuttles are equipped with interior video sensors.”
“That’s true. Unfortunately, this one was malfunctioning.”
“Malfunctioning?” Elgin’s brow creased into great chasms now. “That’s some curious timing, Sergeant, when not one but two men die.”
“One man died,” Dru said. “He was an officer, Captain, and a hell of a man. One man, and one murdering piece of shit. If you’ll excuse my language, of course.”
“Sergeant, regulations clearly state-”
“I’m sorry, sir.” His tone conveyed a sentiment altogether at odds with the obliging tenor of his word choice. “I’ll put a note in the maintenance crew’s next review for the oversight.” His jaw set, and then he added, “So next time you’ll get to watch my officer being murdered. Maybe I can show his wife and kids, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nikia sat, stunned. She’d risen that morning to find herself alone. Her casual search for Grel had morphed into panic when none of his usual spots turned him up.
And then Defender Leas had called. He’d been contacted by the Office of Protection. Grel was dead. He’d been killed in a fight with protectors. He’d murdered a protector, they said. The body would be released in the afternoon, once all the paperwork had been filed.
Grel is dead. She couldn’t believe the words. She couldn’t believe them, no matter how many times she’d repeated them, no matter how many times she’d heard them.
Grel is dead. Just this morning, she’d held him. She’d kissed him. She’d felt his warmth at her side, wrapped him in her arms. They’d laughed and joked last night. He’d held her, touched her, spoke sweet nonsense to her.
Grel is dead. Luk was conversing in quiet tones with Leas. “How the hell did the protectors get their hands on him?”
“They said they had more questions.”
“So they initiated it?”
“Under the law, they’re within their rights to do so.”
“Godsdammit, Dru told me he was going to leave the boy alone. Not murder him.”
“They claim that Grel struck the first blow. That he attacked Protector Ridi, and they had to shoot him to get him off.”
“Ridi?” The name caught Nikia’s attention. She shivered.
Her tone caught her father’s. “Yes. He’s dead, darling.”
So is Grel. “They murdered him, der. They murdered my Grel.”
Luk nodded. “I know, Nik. We’re going to do what we can. If there’s anything we can do.” He didn’t seem convinced that there would be.
She wasn’t either. But in the moment, she was too devastated to think of justice or vengeance. She could only think, Grel is dead. She got to her feet. “I need to…” What? She didn’t know. She needed to go, to be somewhere else, to do something – anything – before she went mad at the idea. Her head seemed to spin, and she reached out a hand to steady herself on the seatback.
Luk got to his feet too. “Nik, are you alright?” Then, raising his tone, he called, “Elsie. Elsie, I need you.”
Her mother was in the adjacent room, on a call with another set of lawyers. She came in at a run. “Luk?” Then, she saw her daughter. “Nik! Oh gods, call Dr. Kel. Now.”
She spent the rest of the day asleep. Dr. Kel had prescribed her a sedative. “Your blood pressure is dangerously high, Nik. Your stress hormones are in overdrive. Right now, you need to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“You need to sleep. If not for yourself, then sleep for the baby. Because, right now, Nik, you’re at risk of losing her.”
“They haven’t even released Grel’s body yet.”
“We’ll take care of that, honey,” Elsie had said.
“What about the funeral? There needs to be a funeral.”
“We’ll take care of it all. Just, please, listen to the doctor.”
She’d relented then, and before long she was asleep. It was a long, dark, dreamless sleep. She woke feeling drained rather than refreshed. She glanced at Grel’s half of their bed. She knew it would be empty; and it was.
Grel is dead.
Her life seemed to pass in a blur after that, as if she was dream walking; as if it was someone else’s life, and she was only a spectator, watching it pass.
She heard her parents talk about the funeral. “He’ll go in the family crypt,” Luk said.
“Our priest has agreed to do the ceremony, too.”
She received their solicitude dutifully, mechanically. “Are you alright, Nik?”
“Have you eaten yet, my baby? I know it’s hard, but you need to eat.”
“How are you feeling?”
Diven seemed less effected than her parents, but he offered his sympathies too. “It’s a terrible business, Nik. I’m so sorry.”
Still, she wasn’t sad when her younger brother’s business called him away that afternoon. “I really need to talk to the board. And I don’t think there’s anything I can do. If you do need me, of course, I’m a call away.”
She loved Diven, at least she had back in the day. But he was a stranger to her now, trying to fill a role both of them had sworn off seasons ago. Someday they might be close enough again that his solicitude in such a time would be welcome, but for now it only added a layer of awkwardness to her already reeling thoughts.
Dr. Kel called again. “Your blood pressure is better,” he said. “But I still want you resting. Avoid anything that might add stress, Nik. Sleep frequently. Stay hydrated.” The list went on, and she nodded numbly.
Day turned to night, and she slept again. She woke early, and felt no more rested than she had the day before. She was, though, hungry. She’d barely picked at her food the day before and it seemed to have caught up to her. Perhaps it was the pregnancy, but she woke with hunger gnawing at her stomach.
She went downstairs, setting her steps for the breakfast room. Vo
ices, so low as to be barely audible, reached her ears. Nikia recognized the speakers, though not immediately the words. Luk and Elsa were already breakfasting.
She considered for a moment returning to her room. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face them yet this morning. They would be kind and concerned, and in their concern, they would shower her with more solicitude than she was sure she could handle without falling apart. So far, she’d shed no tears. She’d been in too much shock for them. But this morning, they seemed to be bottled up to the point of bursting. She could feel them behind her eyes, with every blink. She could feel them swelling in her with every thought that strayed to Grel.
But she was hungry, too. Damned hungry.
Nikia pushed on. The voices grew intelligible. Elsa was saying, “I’m worried about her, Luk.”
“Me too,” her father said. “And that son-of-a-bitch’s funeral is today.”
She stopped in her tracks, horror filling her at the words. Today was Grel’s funeral. They were supposed to meet at the mausoleum this morning before twelfth bell, where the priest would read her husband’s last rites. Was her father, even now when poor Grel lay dead, harboring so much hatred for him?
“On the same day,” Elsa said, her voice grim. “Bastards.”
Nikia frowned, confused.
“I’m glad we’re doing ours in the morning,” Luk said. “We can be home before the procession starts.”
“That’s going to be ugly, all those protectors turned out to honor that piece of shit. Nik doesn’t need to see that.”
She understood, now. They weren’t talking about Grel, or his funeral. They meant Ridi, the protector who had tried to rape her, who had tortured Grel. The protector Grel had killed before they killed him.
His funeral was today, the same day as her husband’s.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elgin had been staring at personnel reviews for the past hour. It was probably one of his least favorite parts of being a commanding officer, but they needed to be wrapped up; and, at the moment, he had nothing better to do.
Then the call came in. It was from Admiral Lenksha. He felt his heart rate spike. “Admiral,” he greeted as he picked up. “Elgin here.”
“Elgin,” the other man spoke, and his voice was heavy with disapprobation. “I got a strange call from Sergeant Dru at the Office of Protection. About you.”
“Dru?”
“Yes. Did you call Dru demanding to see some file? Threatening him with the regs if you didn’t get it?”
“No sir, of course not. The file with the anarchist’s death is missing. I called and asked why. That’s it.”
Lenksha was frowning, though. “What do you need the file for in the first place?”
Elgin was almost as surprised by this question as the first. “I was…I wanted to be able to give my men an accurate briefing,” he lied.
“A briefing?”
“Yessir. If we’re deploying over the City, I want them to know the stakes.”
Lenksha’s frown was still fixed in place as he said, “Well, I would have thought a dead protector would have been enough to convey the stakes, Captain.”
“Of course sir. Just…it struck me as strange that the file was gone.”
“How so?”
“Well…regulation says-”
“Equipment malfunctions. Regulations control human behavior, not machine.”
“Yessir. Of course. Just…doesn’t it seem strange to you?”
Chasms formed between the admiral’s eyes. “What’s strange to me, Captain, is that you would be so concerned about this. A protector died, and you’re getting caught upon regulations?”
“No sir. It’s not the regulation. It’s the fact that we don’t know what actually happened.”
“We know exactly what happened, Captain Elgin,” Lenksha said, and his tone was sharp. “We have the sworn testimony of three protectors, and the body of a protector who died in the line of duty.” Now, he fixed his subordinate with a stare that was piercing even through a monitor. “Unless, of course, you’re suggesting that they’re all liars?”
“No, of course not, sir.”
“Good. That would be a serious charge to level – and without evidence, one unworthy of a man holding your rank.”
Elgin’s jaw clenched at the implied threat, but he nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Lenksha, his point made, nodded, and the chasms in his forehead relaxed. “Now, on to business. Protector Ridi’s funeral is at fifteen hundred hours. I want your boys scrambled by fourteen-thirty. They’ll be flying silent unless we need them.”
Flying silent meant breaking atmosphere but flying high enough to avoid detection by the naked eye. It gave pilots the ability to react quicker. Scrambling half a bell before the procession meant the fighters would have finished the engine purge, moving from space to atmospheric fuels. While a fighter could technically operate in atmosphere with either, the latter were designed for peak performance in a planet’s atmosphere. “Are we expecting trouble, sir?”
“We’re not taking chances. Most of the Office of Protection is going to be turned out to pay their respects. We’re not going to risk an ambush or fighting in the streets. Today they mourn their dead. We’re going to make sure they can do it in peace.”
Nik listened as the priest read, but all she heard was his voice. It was quiet and authoritative. Now and again, she’d hear a word or two of what he said.
“…eternal life…”
“…at peace…”
“…with the gods…”
But her focus was on the box, the dark wood that gleamed in the light of the daystar, that held her husband’s body. She’d seen it. She’d insisted on seeing it that morning.
It had not felt real. It still didn’t feel real. He might have been asleep, if not for the gray color of his skin.
But he was dead, and his body, his broken, battered body, was only the shell he’d left behind. Now she was about to say goodbye to it too. And then she would have nothing of him.
She would truly be alone. What will I do, Grel?
But he couldn’t hear her. She knew that, and for the first time, she felt it – truly felt it, in all its terrible weight.
The tears that so far she’d contained burst forth in great, choking sobs. Elsa wrapped an arm around her, and she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. Luk put an arm around both of them. The priest read on.
“…his burdens surrendered…”
And Nikia wept.
The funeral wrapped up some time later. Nikia’s cheeks stung and her eyes burned, but she’d spent all the tears she’d been holding back. The Aldir family walked back to the shuttle, Luk on one side of her and Elsa on the other, their arms wrapped around their daughter.
No one spoke until they reached the vehicle. Then, she drew up and said, “Mer, I need to go home.”
“We’ll be home soon,” Luk promised.
“No, der, I mean…our flat. Grel’s and mine.”
Her parents exchanged troubled glances. “Nik,” Elsa said, “you shouldn’t be alone.”
“I need to get his stuff, mer. I can’t…I can’t leave it there.”
“It will keep another day or two, won’t it?”
But she shook her head adamantly. “No. I have to do it today.”
“Then let me send Tay,” Luk offered. Tay was one of the Aldir estate’s manservants. “He’ll get everything back this afternoon yet.”
“I have to do it, der.”
Elsa squeezed her arm understandingly. “Of course, baby girl. I’ll go with you.”
“No. Please, mer. I need to be alone for a while.”
Again, they exchanged glances. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, sweetheart?” Luk wondered.
“Yes. I need time alone.”
“Alright,” Elsa nodded. “Take the car. Tensen will wait for you, and take you home when you’re ready.” Tensen was the chauffeur who had driven them to Grel’s funeral.
“What about you?” she wondered. “How will you get home?”
“I’ll call for another car,” Luk said. “Don’t worry about that.”
She nodded and thanked them both.
“Of course, Nik. And remember, darling, what the doctor said: if it’s too much stress, come home. The things will wait. They’re not worth risking hurt to yourself or the baby.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Captain Elgin stood before his flight crew in the briefing room. Two dozen pilots from the Supernova were present, and dozens more across the rest of the fleet were in similar briefing rooms on their own ships, watching his presentation on screens.
There was curiosity in their faces, concern, eagerness; here and there, hunger. Normally, he liked to see that when there was a mission afoot. Today, it worried him.
He cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know you’ve all been wondering about what we’re doing here, and why we’re out here on standby.” He gritted his teeth.
“You’ve heard about the funeral today. We’re being asked to maintain a presence over the City.”
A murmur rose from the assembly. In normal circumstances, he would have considered that a breach of discipline. But the fact was, he was glad of it. It meant he wasn’t the only one who saw this for the madness it was.
“We’ll be flying silent, providing eyes in the sky as needed. We’ll be in the air at fourteen hundred hours, and over the City by fourteen-thirty. Questions?”
A hand rose.
“Danli?”
“So we’re purely surveillance, sir? Couldn’t drones do that?”
“We’re whatever command tells us to be, Danli. For now, that’s eyes in the sky.” The young man blinked, digesting his words. Another hand rose. “Kri?”
“Sir, are you saying…we may be ordered to fire on…well, targets in the City?”
Elgin stared at the young woman, at the consternation in her features. “That’s above my paygrade,” he said in a moment. “I don’t know what command has in mind. I only know what our orders are. Right now, that’s flying silent.”