She lifted herself off him — knee crushing further into his hand. Jason squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to scream.
“We’re alive. Hold on.” Speaking to Jason, she asked, “You want to file a report with the station?”
His head shook wildly. “Hell, no. Get us out of here already.”
She went back to talking into her wrist. “Tell them not to worry about it. Do we have clearance to leave?” She picked up his hand and winced at the gash — several centimeters long and covered in blood. The cut wasn’t deep enough to be life-threatening, but it continued to bleed copiously.
Understanding that something happened, Tina’s voice lost its musical quality and turned serious. “I’ll get it now.”
“Let’s get you patched up.” Sparrow got to her feet.
Jason followed and pulled off his shirt, wrapping it around his hand. “How’s the sickbay in this place?”
She let out a chuckle and shook her head. “You’ve been watching too many vids.” Reaching up, she poked a finger into his forehead. “Cargo ship, remember.” She took him by his left hand and led him out of the hold.
Chapter Six
Qualified to handle basic piloting tasks, Tina undocked the ship and sent them toward the node. They were scheduled to go through in about forty-five minutes. Sparrow had taken Jason to a locker room outside of the shower where they kept a cabinet with first-aid supplies. She dabbed the blood away with sterile gauze.
“How much money did you lose?”
He hummed a few notes while thinking about it. “About thirty thousand.”
Sparrow shook her head. “It doesn’t even phase you, does it?”
Nobody died, and he walked away with only a cut. It was a small price to pay. He’d never forgive himself if Sparrow had been hurt. “No. I would’ve given them everything to keep you safe.” Wait, that sounded too desperate.
She grinned as she worked. “That stupid little chip was worth about twice what I get in a year.” A hand roughened by years of hard work, but still held the grace of femininity, expertly tended his wound.
He watched her dark eyes while she focused on his wrist. “Sorry again for dragging you into this.”
Pulling open a cabinet, she removed a menacing device. “Stick your arm in here.”
Shiny rods of metal along with gears and springs wound their way around a round core of padding. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s our Amputator two thousand.” She rolled her eyes. “Go on.”
There was a circular flap on one end with an iris opening large enough to handle a leg, even one the size of Sparky’s. He shoved his hand through and into warm goo. “This feels really weird.” The iris clamped onto his elbow.
Sparrow smiled and flipped a switch. The goo turned solid, immobilizing his hand. “This is going to hurt. Are you ready?”
“What?” She couldn’t be serious about the amputation thing. “No anesthetic?”
“Sorry, the company doesn’t pay for it in our kit.” Her eyes glimmered with mirth as she hit the next switch.
A loud pop exploded out of the restraint, and his heart stopped, waiting for the pain. There wasn’t any, only a tickling over his hand as the substance slowly returned to goo. Relaxing, he wiggled his fingers inside the device. “Not funny.”
She giggled with abandoned dignity. The sound alone was enough to lift his spirits and make him want to toss his life away. She was vibrant. Someone who wholeheartedly ripped at the fabric of life to grab as much as she could get. It was infectious and reached into his soul, begging him to join her.
“You should’ve seen your face when I hit the switch. Geez, your father’s company make the things. Haven’t you ever seen one?”
“No.” Jason suspected the device was devised for treatment when medical personnel weren’t available, something he’d never experienced.
The clamp released, and he pulled his slime-covered hand out. She continued chuckling to herself as she wrapped a towel around it and wiped the disturbingly white gook away. Instead of a slash, only a faint line remained. Jason shook his head. “You’re such an ass.” He couldn’t help but laugh back at her.
She threw the towel in his face. “That’s ‘You’re such an ass, Captain’ to you, deckhand. Go get a clean shirt, then meet me in the galley. You still have junk to put away.”
“I noticed you don’t bug the others about calling you ‘Captain’.”
She covered her mouth for a moment, hiding a grin. “Captain’s prerogative.”
He made three wrong turns getting back to his gear, which still sat in her cabin. Slipping on a clean shirt, he checked his hair in the mirror and left again. He was getting better at finding his way around. There was only one wrong turn during his trip to the galley.
When he entered, he found Sparky holding Sparrow in a hug that would’ve made an octopus envious. Jason cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting anything?”
Sparrow pulled away and wiped teary eyes. “No.” She tossed one of the food packages at him. “Why’d you buy this? I thought you didn’t like fish.”
Bobbling the package, he turned it in his hands. It was the smoked salmon she’d asked about in the store. “You look disappointed. I thought you liked the stuff.”
She made that irresistible lip-biting gesture and walked over to him. “Thank you.” Sparrow crooked a finger for him to bend down, then kissed him on the cheek. “It’s been a long time since…” She choked on her words and the tears welled up again. She ran out of the galley.
Surprised by the reaction, Jason turned to Sparky. “What was that all about? It’s just fish.”
Sparky sat at the table piled up with some of Jason’s food. “Family memory.”
Pointing toward the door, he asked, “Should I go talk to her?”
The man let out an amused hoot a few octaves higher than Jason thought possible. “Sometimes good to chase woman. Sometimes bad. Man spend life figuring out which.”
“That wasn’t much help.” Jason was starved and poked through the packages.
“Tegan soon. Sparrow work.”
As usual, Jason had lost track of time. “How long before we go?”
“Schedule twenty minute.”
He needed to speak with his father before they went through. One last chance to get information. “Do you mind putting the rest of this away? I have to do something.”
Sparky turned the package of fish in his hands. “This one week her pay.” He shrugged. “Go. I take care.”
“Thanks.” Jason took a bag of nuts to bring with him and ran back to his cabin — her cabin. He would not be sleeping in there with her.
The bed was still hard and lumpy, but he could smell her aura on it. He clutched a pillow over his face. It didn’t have the sweet flowery perfume the girls he dealt with on a daily basis preferred. The scent seemed musky — more human — natural. He was doing one of those weird things she warned him about. Tossing the pillow behind his head, he focused.
Oh great and all-powerful father, blah blah blah. Show me talking to you about Martin.
The cabin ceiling disappeared, and he stood in his father’s office. Servos whined as The Grand Silverback jumped to his feet. “Jason! How did you get—” He cut himself off. His head swayed from side to side. “You’re not really here. You brought me into your Mirre.” The chair creaked under his weight as he returned to his seat.
Jason could rarely fool his dad. He was nine-years-old before he realized the elder Jason could tell because most people didn’t just pop into a room. Usually, he took extra steps to ensure he was far enough away at the start and then made it look real by walking into a room the normal way.
The Lord High Holiness himself folded his fingers together. “So, would you care to explain why you’ve left already? I just got word you were seen on Porter Station. Not exactly a tourist destination.”
It was infuriating to have his father act so ignorant and composed again. His father’s erratic behavio
r had everyone on edge back home. “You know why I left.” It came out in a snarl. “I want to know why you killed Martin.”
His father jerked back. One could almost believe he still had a real body to be surprised. “I didn’t kill Martin. What makes you think it was me?”
“Please drop the act. I was in the Mirre and found you over his body.” Jason wasn’t going to mention what his father did after catching him there.
Jason Sr. shook his head reminiscent of a cobra. “No, boy. Not me. I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t me.”
His mechanical stare left Jason wondering if his father was truly confused about the last few hours or hiding his actions. Could the Mirre have been wrong? Or was his father so far gone he didn’t remember the killing? Jason would have to reexamine everything later. His father would’ve at least seen the blood on himself when he returned to his senses unless he cleaned the blood off his body while in one of his states.
Jason firmed himself. “Martin seemed in an awful hurry to get me out of town. He knew something was going on.”
“If he did, he left me ignorant.” Rubberized fingers tapped the desk. Thrum, thrum, thrum. “Let me tell you what it looked like from my perspective. I got woken up early this morning with news that Martin was found dead. Being worried about you, I had the palace searched. Disturbingly, you’re not found. A few hours later, I’m told by a very nervous guard that you snuck out of the palace and got on a cargo ship. From the recording, it didn’t look like anyone forced you to do any of this. Now, I know you’d never hurt Martin, but there are others that think you murdered him.”
“Me?” The very concept was laughable. He hated dealing with his father. Without normal human facial clues, he couldn’t tell how much of this was the truth. “How could anyone think I killed him?” Although, if Mr. Big wanted everything to work out that way, he could make people believe it.
“I’m worried about you. Come back.” The thrum, thrum, thrum on the desk came again. The concern in his voice was almost believable. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
Jason glowered at him, evaluating the situation. He could try re-running the scene and see if he could pry different reactions from the old dragon. “I think not. Not yet. If you didn’t kill Uncle Martin, and I didn’t kill him, then there’s someone still out there that did.” It didn’t seem likely there was another party running around the palace committing murder.
The absent-minded finger tapping came again. Thrum, thrum, thrum. It was a gesture as linked to his father as Sparrow’s lip biting. “Okay. I saw you took out plenty of money.” He cleared a non-existent throat. “A ridiculous amount of money. Get someplace safe. Preferably back on Rhime. I have people investigating the situation. And please send me a message telling me you’re alright and where you’ve gone. You know I’m not really having this conversation with you.”
It was a small request. “I can do that.”
“You are taking precautions?” Thrum, thrum, thrum.
Now that sounded more like the Grand Wizard he was used to hearing. “Of course.” He knew what concerned his father most. “I’ve been out of the palace by myself plenty of times.”
“Yes,” his father drawled. “I just found out how often and had to transfer six of my gate guards. That won’t be happening again when you get back.”
Well, if Charlie only got transferred, perhaps Jason could help him later. He gripped his hands into fists. Courage was easier here. “If you killed him. If you’re lying to me, I will kill you.” Some type of justice needed to come from this mess.
Jason Sr. didn’t move, and they stared at each other for an extended moment. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Thrum, thrum, thrum. “I think you have a distorted view of me. I—” His finger tapping came to a stop. “Jason, did you say you found me in the Mirre already over a dead Martin?”
Jason was about to say something vile when his head exploded in pain. The Mirre dissolved. He was left in darkness, writhing in agony and clutching his head. His throat cracked as he screamed over and over. It was as if someone clamped his head in a vise. He continued to thrash for an eternity until hands grabbed him and restrained his movement.
“Jason! Jason! What’s wrong?” Sparrow folded him into a bearhug.
He wasn’t sure how long she’d been shouting at him. The pain started to subside, and he pulled back from her. His head still pounded, but it was muted down to the worst headache he’d ever felt.
She gasped. “Jason, your eyes are rolled up.” Gentle hands prodded his face. “What the hell happened?”
He closed his lids and shook his head vigorously as if it would help. “I’m not sure.” His heart still hammered from the adrenaline. “Shouldn’t you be on the bridge? We’ll lose our place in line.”
“We’re already through.”
“Oh.” He pushed the sides of his eyes, trying to massage them back into place. “I guess now I know what happens if I go through a node while linked to someone. Won’t do that again.”
“You seem a little calm for someone who’s been blinded.”
“Nah.” He blew out a breath. “This used to happen a lot when I was little, and someone startled me out of the Mirre. Well, the eye thing anyway. Give it a few hours. You have anything for a headache?”
“Sure. We’re on the other side of the node, but I still have work to do. Will you be alright?”
He extended his hand, feeling a nose. “Sorry.” He moved it to her shoulder and squeezed. “Yea. Let me sleep it off.”
“I’ll send Sparky or Tina to you in a few minutes with some medicine.” Her closeness disappeared as she stood.
“Thanks.” The door opened and closed. He stretched out, still massaging his eyes.
A few minutes later, the cabin door chimed. “Open.”
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tina.”
“How are you doing?”
“My head feels like a couple of creagers chewed on it.”
Soft hands grasped his. “Here, take this.”
He popped the pellet into his mouth, and she guided a bottle into his hands. He drank greedily. Water — flat and sterile. “Thank you.” He waited for her to leave. When he didn’t hear movement, he asked, “Was there something else?”
There was an uncomfortable silence before she spoke. “Jason, you know she likes you.”
Did she? He hadn’t been sure. “I like her too.”
“Be careful with our little Sparrow. She’s had a rough time.”
“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”
“Maybe.” She gripped his hand. “But people have a habit of hurting the ones they care about the most, even if they don’t mean to. And from what she’s told me, you’re already in some trouble.” Tina pulled away.
He didn’t know what to say to that. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good.” She opened the door, and her lilting voice returned. “Cause if you don’t, I’ll have Sperkovachi throw you into space.” The door closed.
He smiled into the darkness and got comfortable again. He needed to concentrate on his problem, not a girl. Easier said than done. He could still vision the adorable way she squinted in concentration with her teeth clamped onto her lower lip.
His father — Martin — the note. What was the connection and was his father lying to him? What could his uncle have known to cause a mess like this? Jason didn’t have the slightest idea.
What was she like under that jumpsuit? She was obviously in shape. He was so used to the servants in the palace wearing those see-through robes that dealing with not being able to mark every line and curve seemed more interesting to him now.
His mind kept flipping from Sparrow to his father. He shook off the distracting thoughts.
What had his father said at the end? He’d been alarmed about something, but everything had become fuzzy so fast he couldn’t recall.
Her ears were cute also. Marisa had done things to his ears in the Mirre. No, forget Marisa.
Chapter Seven
When Jason woke, he was relieved to see the dim glow of electronics in the cabin rather than blindness, but he was also a bit surprised by the heel pressed against his chest. Sparrow lay on top of the covers with her back to him and her head down at his feet. No longer in her jumpsuit, bare legs jetted from an oversized T-shirt, allowing him to see the hint of shorts sticking out underneath. It was still more modest than the palace uniforms. She must’ve slipped in when he’d been asleep. Her breathing was soft and steady.
Great, the first time he sleeps with a girl and they actually sleep. This wasn’t the way he always imagined the moment. With dawning horror, he ran his hand down his side checking his state of dress or undress. Fortunately, the boxers were still there. For the last few years, he’d developed a habit of removing them while asleep. People could sleep-walk, sleep-talk, even sleep-eat. Jason sleep-stripped. He sent up a brief thank you prayer to St. Haines — the patron saint of underwear.
He pulled an arm from under the blanket and his pulse sped as he hesitantly put a hand on her ankle. She didn’t stir. Getting braver, he ran his fingers up the back of her muscular calf and gave it a little squeeze. He leaned in and took in her scent — no perfume just a slight natural musk. Her leg flinched, and he quickly pulled away. He was being weird again.
Rolling onto his back, he considered what she’d be like in the Mirre. People were so much easier to deal with there. He could find out how she’d react to his touches. Unlike a daydream, he couldn’t just will her to do something she didn’t want to do. The Mirre made complete copies of people with their own minds to interact with.
Leaning back, Jason fixated on capturing a copy of her. Right here. Right now. Talk to Sparrow. Perhaps “talk” wasn’t quite what he had in mind.
There was only the slightest of flickers as the lighting changed from the reality of the cabin to a slightly brighter form of illumination which came from no particular place like a stage set. He returned to caressing her calf, kneading gently as he inched his way to the back of her knee.
Shabin- The Reluctant Prince of Rhime Page 6