by Megan Derr
"Something that looks like a light gate protocol, maybe?" Sean pulled it up. "I've only ever light-jumped on public ships; I don't really know what they look like, but this seemed to be like what you've talked about before."
Karmikel grunted. "Yeah, that's a light jump protocol. Stars damn them." He scrubbed at his face, then punched buttons on the main comm. A couple of minutes later, Winter appeared on the main screen. "They have inside help," Karmikel said without preamble. "Deep inside help. We were also tricked—Adalsteinn isn't with the pirates; he's on the Dragonfly."
"Show me what you've got."
At Karmikel's gesture, Sean obediently transmitted all the information they had managed to get. Winter was silent for several long minutes as he read through it all. His expression steadily moved from somber to angry. "Yes, it would seem they do have inside help," he said at last. "This is all the information you have?"
Sean nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry there's not more—"
"Do not be," Winter interrupted, smiling tiredly. "There is more here than you might think. Information embedded in the information; it only takes the right expert to extract it. I happen to have such an expert on staff and should have the identity of the leak in a few days. What are your plans now?"
"Can you trace the Dragonfly?" Karmikel asked.
"I will try, but if these codes originate where I suspect, then no, we will not be able to trace it. Your best chance for following the Dragonfly is to follow where it makes port. You learned nothing from the pirates?"
"They attacked the Dragonfly for parts, got their asses kicked," Karmikel said.
Mendel added, "They knew Adalsteinn and Vallant, so there is no doubt now that they are definitely who we are hunting. They made no mention of Cyan, but if he's a prisoner, they wouldn't."
Winter nodded. "I will let you know what I learn as soon as I learn it. Find the Dragonfly, keep me apprised." The screen went dark.
"This just keeps getting more and more complicated," Sean sighed, and swiveled his chair around to activate his work station again, pulling back the information he'd transferred to the main screen. "Let's see if the Dragonfly has hit any other ports recently, and if there's a pattern to all their other stops."
"We should head back to base for a time," Mendel said abruptly. "We could stand to be off ship for more than a couple of hours, and there are more resources there."
"The ship could use real work, too," Karmikel conceded. "We're close to Kreska from here; it can't hurt to rest on real land for a few days." He bent over his console and began typing furiously.
Mendel nodded, and said, "I will be in my lab. I am still hoping to figure out what exactly they are hoping to achieve with all these kidnappings. But if Winter can now figure out who 'they' are, perhaps my efforts are superfluous. All the same. Call if you need me."
Sean watched him go, disappointed that Mendel did not even look his way. Stifling a sigh, he went back to work, slowly pulling up every scrap of information he could find on the Dragonfly, using codes Winter had given him to pull up its registry history.
For several minutes, the only sounds on the bridge were the hum and whir of machinery and the occasional rustle of clothes. Sean jumped when Karmikel abruptly said, "You do know he's in love with you, right?"
Scowling at all the data he had just accidentally deleted, Sean recalled it, then turned around and shifted his glare to Karmikel. "What?"
Karmikel just met the glare with that half-amused, half-sneering look of his. "I don't know that I can put it any plainer. He does love you, that's probably why he's making such a mess of it all." Sean frowned, then turned back around and resumed typing. He'd barely gotten two words down before Karmikel continued, "You should ask about his family. It would explain why he's so aggravating."
Sean slammed his hands down on his workstation. "Why do you know so much, and since when do you care?"
"Mendel was my partner well before you appeared," Karmikel replied. "I was the one who set up an escape plan after he was convicted—the escape plan you ruined, and we nearly didn't get away because of it. I don't like working with strangers, that's why I know so much. It's a policy you should try taking up. There'd be a lot less sighing and arguing between the two of you. I always cared. Who the fuck else is going to when nearly every star in the IG wants us exterminated?" He threw his hands up and went back to work.
Sean sighed and stood up, leaving the bridge and heading upstairs to Mendel's lab. When he stepped inside, Mendel was sitting at his work station in the corner, clearly sifting through articles and journals, and other such research documents. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and stared at Sean in surprise. "Is something wrong?"
"I think you and I have been doing everything wrong."
Mendel went still, then made a face. "What did I do this time?"
"I said we—more or less. I do mean we." Mendel just stared blankly. Sean almost smiled, because Mendel really did just look lost. Stepping in closer, so he was just barely brushing against Mendel's arm, Sean tilted Mendel's face up, then bent and kissed him. Mendel jerked in surprise, but Sean held his head fast in both hands and kissed him again. Mendel made a rough noise, and then one hand rested lightly on Sean's hip as Mendel turned in his seat to get a better angle.
After a moment, the hand on his hip slid around his waist. Sean shifted to accommodate their odd positioning, only to wind up hitting his foot against the chair and upsetting his balance, tumbling to land in Mendel's lap. He broke the kiss with a laugh, then dove right back in to another. Mendel tasted sweet, like the Helior cherries he liked so much. For someone who seemed so uncertain much of the time, he certainly kissed like a pro. Sean finally drew back, licking his lips. "Stars, why haven't we done that sooner?"
"I believe the main reason was that I work too much and am not very pleasant about it," Mendel said, looking somewhat stunned by the kisses and the way Sean was settled on his lap.
Sean smiled. "I bite my tongue too much and overreact when I finally do speak, and then ignore you. As methods go, there are a few flaws."
Mendel returned the smile with a faint one of his own. "Flaws all around?"
In reply, Sean kissed him again, wanting to feel that cute half-smile he'd never seen before. "We're communicating now, at least."
"I do not know that this is communicating, per se, but I do prefer it to you punching me."
Sean winced. "I'm sorry—"
"Don't. I deserved it."
"I made you an offer the other day. You never took me up on it, but you're certainly kissing me back right now, so I can't think you were disinterested."
Mendel shook his head. "I was afraid of screwing up. I'm good at that. Really good at it, if you take into account that the last time I argued with someone, I killed him."
Sean kissed him again, soft and reassuring, hating the anguish in Mendel's voice and face. "I don't get it—clearly it was self-defense, if your father attacked you first. That should have factored into the trial and gotten you a much lighter sentence."
"You really don't know anything about it, do you?" Mendel said.
Making a face, feeling like an idiot, Sean said, "No. I never watch the news. Hell, I didn't even know what a Draconis was until we got your arrival report. I deal with crime nearly every day; when I'm not working, I don't go watching the news for more. After I wound up matched to you, it felt like snooping to hear it from someone else. If I was going to learn about it, I was going to hear it from you."
Mendel smiled at him, shy and pleased, and nothing like the cold, aggressive workaholic that had stressed Sean to no end. "You said that before; I'd forgotten 'til now."
"So tell me what happened," Sean said quietly, carding a hand through Mendel's long hair. He slid off Mendel's lap and leaned against his work station, feet stretched out between Mendel's. It wouldn't be hard at all to move forward, straddle Mendel properly, and better explore his mouth.
Maybe in a bit. Serious first, then fun.
Drawing
a deep breath, Mendel let it out slowly, and then said, "Ekard is my mother's name. My father's name was Martin Cohen."
The name jolted through Sean, and he stared at Mendel dumbfounded. "You—you can't mean Cohen as in High Chancellor Cohen."
"My uncle," Mendel said.
Sean could only stare for a moment. "Now I'm astonished you only got a life sentence. They could have gotten execution approved easily for murdering the High Chancellor's brother."
Mendel hesitated, then replied, "I think Winter had a hand in that, though he's never brought it up. I wasn't—still am not—really part of IA. I was just consulting for them on some illegal experiments, helping them catch all parties. Karmikel was my contact and my partner when we were afield. We had been working on it for a term and a half when everything went wrong.
"I was home visiting my mother and found out that my father—part of the ambassador assembly on Coni—was supporting the annihilation of the Draconis. He should not have been involved at all, but there was a leak and word got out. I lost it. I barely remember that entire day." His face shut down, eyes dark and hard as he stared at the floor. Sean reached out and cupped his cheek, and Mendel turned into the touch, eyes sliding shut. "I took it when he wouldn't acknowledge me, when he shunned my mother. But to declare that we would be better off dead… It was a mess. I was rushed through a mockery of a trial, the entire scandal kept as quiet as possible. Then you. Then we were assigned to figure out the kidnappings."
"Stars," Sean said. "They really will execute us when this is all over—they don't have a choice."
Mendel made a face. "I just want to know why he wanted the Draconis wiped out. It's especially strange when the High Chancellor vehemently opposes Heartstone's Law. He's always supported the continued existence of the Draconis. He'd never allow his brother to tarnish his political image by opposing him that way, or perhaps I just don't understand politics."
"No, you've hit that mark precisely. It's strange they would be on opposite sides."
"There is also the fact that the Cohen family is famous in the arena of genetic research," Mendel continued. "My father's ancestors were heavily involved in the creation of the Temperast. That's why—" He cut himself off, but it wasn't hard for Sean to silently finish the sentence. Mendel had gone into genetics in hopes of drawing his father's attention, of binding himself to a family that did not want him.
"It does seem strange your father would be for something your uncle is against. Did they not get along?"
Mendel shrugged. "They seemed to get on well the two occasions I saw them together."
"So the Cohens helped create the Temperast?" Sean asked, grimacing.
"Yes," Mendel said. "Everyone knows only terrible things about the Temperast, but they were a marvel of genetic artistry. It took decades to get as far as they did, and it is a tragedy that something meant to be good took such a horrible turn. It was a blow to the Cohen reputation when they were exterminated. They have mostly recovered now, but they will probably never enjoy the levels of prestige they once did."
Sean pursed his lips. "Maybe they think by supporting the Draconis, they'll regain more of that lost ground? Not to mention the permits they'd recover to help with further experiments that may be required as a condition of the Draconis' continued survival."
Mendel nodded, frowning in that way of his that said he was lost in thought. He went abruptly still. "How did I miss that?" he asked. "Stars take it!"
"Miss what?" Sean asked, hastily getting out of Mendel's way as he all but threw himself at his work station. He began typing furiously, lost in his work as quickly as that. Sean smiled faintly, brushed a strand of hair from Mendel's face, and left him to it.
Returning to the bridge, he sat down and resumed his own work. "So are you two done moping, now?" Karmikel asked.
"Yeah. I think Mendel may have cracked the motive for the kidnappings. I'm sure he'll let us know in a few hours when he's checked, double-checked, and quadruple-checked."
Karmikel rolled his eyes. "So all it took to solve the damned mystery was Mendel getting fucked?"
"No fucking took place, not that it's any of your business," Sean replied, amused.
Smirking, Karmikel said, "Well, then, I guess you'll know what your duty is when he hits a snag in the research. We'll reach Kreska in twenty-seven hours."
"Copy that," Sean replied, and settled into his work.
Chapter Thirteen
Planet 11181911 (Kreska), Heartstone Tavern & Inn
"Thanks," Cyan said, taking the beer Einn pushed across the table toward him. Instead of drinking it, however, he only traced the rim of the glass with his finger. Einn frowned but said nothing. He never knew what to say, no matter how hard he tried to figure it out. Comfort wasn't something he did. Distraction he could do, but even sex only went so far.
Einn hated it—hated that he wanted to comfort, hated that he didn't know how, hated that the problem existed. With each passing day, the fierce Cyan he'd known in the bar, cuffed to a wall, was sinking below the surface of a tense, anxious, quiet man he scarcely knew at all. Einn wanted to fix it, wanted to make Cyan smile again. He had no idea why, though; he'd never felt such a compulsion before, not even with Hood or Lark.
Dealing with Cyan felt a lot like going on his first solo climb, except he couldn't see his handholds, couldn't feel them, and had no idea what would happen if he lost his grip and fell. "Where's Lark?" he finally asked, scowling moodily at his beer. Kreskans made shitty beer; he might as well have been drinking water.
"Still working on getting us moon access," Cyan replied, and finally took a sip of beer, grimacing. "This tastes like shit."
Einn smiled. "All they had." That they could sell legally, anyway, and he wasn't in the mood to get the good stuff, even if the legal stuff tasted like they'd scraped dirt off the floor and mixed it with water.
Cyan made a face. "Lark seemed pretty confident he could get us access. Didn't say much more than that, but you know Lark." Einn nodded, amused that Cyan seemed to know Lark, too, after only a matter of days. It was far too easy to forget the way they had begun, and for brief moments, to forget their motivations.
"So what shall we do in the mean time? Were you able to learn anything about what your brother is up to?"
Shaking his head, Cyan said, "Science isn't Jade's thing. Politics are Jade's game. If he is involving himself in this, there is a political agenda beneath it all, but I can't deduce it by victims. I've tried everything I can think of, but nothing political pans out. I can't even tell which side he's on, though I know publicly he supports the continued survival of the Draconis. If I know Jade, which unfortunately I do, no one will know what he's doing until it's done. Like I've said before, only one man is Jade's equal, and he is two decades older."
"Who is that?" Einn asked, genuinely curious.
Cyan hesitated, then said, "Pyotr Kavalerov."
Einn blinked. "Kavalerov—that's the name of the Grand Chancellor. He's a lot more than twenty years older than Jade."
"Not the Grand Chancellor, that's Arkadii Kavalerov. Pyotr is his nephew, the son of his late brother."
"I didn't know the Grand Chancellor had a nephew," Einn replied, and took another swallow of beer. "Then again, I couldn't tell you anything about the guy, not even if he's married, though I think he is?"
Cyan laughed. "He is. Lady Veronika is very sweet. Not many outside of Zero know of Pyotr, and if they do know of him, they don't know much. He's very low key, despite being as powerful and…well, he and Jade are a lot alike in strange ways: intense, too smart, too clever, and while I wouldn't call Pyotr insane, there are plenty on Zero who would. He is Commander of the Authority Special Forces."
"Stars! I can't imagine it's easy to become leader of the toughest bastards in space."
"Toughest?" Cyan sneered. "I can kick the ass of any Auth, even those prissy special forces."
"Second toughest," Einn corrected. "Sorry. So Jade's equal is the Special Forces Commander—that
makes sense."
Cyan's mouth tilted in a smile that made Einn feel unsettled. That was a Zero smile, if ever he'd seen one; the smile of a man who knew a cave complex by heart, knew all the ways to go, what routes to take, and how to make people go through them the way he wanted. Cyan might claim to want nothing to do with Zero and that he would do poorly there, but Einn suspected he would be damned good at it. "Not just that, though that would almost be enough. Only a very select group of people know that he is also head of Internal Affairs."
Einn choked on his beer. "There's no such thing as Internal Affairs! Everyone knows that's just a conspiracy theory; the IG doesn't need a special, secret group of people to supervise it."
"Don't they?" Cyan said with a return of that cynical smile. "My brother certainly is not being watched closely enough. Wouldn't it be useful for a group of secret operatives to be working on this kidnapping, tracing it back to its source?"
"I don't believe it," Einn said. "Next you'll tell me they're all magics capable." Cyan laughed and drank his beer. Einn stared at him. "You're serious. Magics capable beings aren't allowed in any government position."
"Which would be why they're not officially anything, but they're there," Cyan replied.
Finishing his own beer, Einn shoved their glasses away and just continued to stare at Cyan for several minutes. "You shouldn't be telling me all this."
"I trust you," Cyan said quietly, speaking to the table. "I don't know why, but I do." Einn couldn't think of a reason he should either. Nor could he seem to come up with a reply; breathing properly had abruptly consumed all of his attention. Cyan looked up, eyes dark. "Einn—if something happens to me—"
"Huh? Like what? Nothing is going to happen to anyone, except maybe me getting arrested, and I'm not letting the Auths get me now."
Mouth twisting into that Zero smile again, Cyan said, "It's Jade—something will always happen. If it does—I have no right to ask, I know, we barely know each other, but I do trust you. If something happens, would you get Sean back to his mother? I—"