Honor Bound

by Rachel Caine

  As copilot, I had to figure out what the hell was after us. I scrambled to adjust the screens, checking, checking. Still no life signs. “Drone gunners, a damn legion of them, coming fast and hot.”

  There was the answer to my question. If there was no life, there had to be an AI of some kind with the infinite directive to protect this place. It was also probably in charge of maintaining the power source that ran the lasers, and there must have been a fully automated facility producing bots, some for repairs and upkeep, and these ships—

  They were like nothing I’d ever seen. Small and maneuverable, but enough firepower to rock the Hopper even when they missed. Chao-Xing swore as she swung us left and right, evading fire while trying to gain altitude. The ride was choppy as hell, and we had no weapons. I scrambled for the comm.

  “Nadim, we’ve got bogeys. Can you take some out by playing some asteroid ball?” My voice sounded shaky, and I hated that it did.

  “On it, Zara.” He seemed calm, thankfully.

  Chao-Xing nodded in my direction. “Good thinking. Typhon’s cannons are too massive for such small targets.”

  Yeah, chances were he’d blow us up too if he fired. Plus, we had no idea what else would swarm after us if he bombed the surface. Our mission was to escape this charnel house, not nuke it to cinders from space. A sudden flash of orange, and the Hopper shuddered, like the vehicle had been tased.

  “Direct hit.” Starcurrent didn’t seem alarmed, though our shield would only hold for one more strike.

  Per the screen, we still had hundreds of gunner drones after us, and some might have ballistic weapons. Our shield couldn’t stop actual projectiles. My stomach heaved as C-X swooped us up and down, into cloud cover and out of it, but these damn things had expert tracking protocols.

  “I can’t shake them,” she said.

  “Keep climbing. And trust Nadim.”

  As I said that, the asteroid storm fell, balls of fire plummeting from on high, and they impacted behind us, taking out a vast swath of gunner drones. I could hear the booms as they collided, and others wheeled out of control, smashing into more units and creating a fireball that blazed all over our screens. Our temp gauge went insane, and I activated the cooling burst meant to settle the engines in case of a fire.

  “Good,” said Starcurrent.

  We kept climbing, gaining altitude, and a few drone ships tried to pursue, but they crumpled and fell like Icarus and his wings of wax as they soared too high. Designed for close combat, I thought. The red lasers activated as we raced away from the planet, and I could almost feel the burn slicing through the Hopper as the beam swung toward us.

  Chao-Xing did everything a human could, but the Hopper had no more to give, and it was already smoking. Red death zapped us, but the shield thrummed with its own energy, popped and gave just as we slid away from full impact. The shot sparked the tail end, shearing off the Hopper’s dorsal plating, and now we had smoke in the cabin as well.

  Shit. If the planet had fried our cargo in a last-ditch vindictive play, we were so boned with Bacia. Starcurrent scrambled for the extinguisher as the automated system warned us, “Exterior compromised. Life support failing.”

  We had half an hour of breathable air with the Hopper all jacked up.

  It wouldn’t take us that long to get to safety—and Nadim. I hoped.

  With sheer willpower and a lot of cussing, Chao-Xing got us relatively close before the engines gave completely. Now we were adrift, floating like space flotsam, but thankfully, we were above the planet’s atmosphere, within Nadim’s reach. I almost cried when I spotted him on-screen, his graceful lines, the curve of his tail. Nadim took us in carefully, knowing we had no propulsion or steering. The Hopper hit the docking bay hard, even so. We bounced and slid with a scrape of metal.

  Hopefully that didn’t hurt him.

  “Zara?”

  “We’re here. We’re good.” Okay, not so much, but we were all alive, which meant we’d beaten the damn odds.

  I stumbled out of the wrecked shuttle to find it still steaming, missing part of the back end, and singed all to hell, despite the makeshift shielding. Those installations were worse than blown: black as onyx and half-melted too. This Hopper looked like it had flown to hell and back, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

  I tried to walk, and the ankle I’d wrenched in the temple of doom gave completely. I didn’t fall, but only because a big form swept in before I could hit the deck.

  Yusuf caught me and swung me up in his arms, bridal style. Intellectually, I knew he was fine, but my heart didn’t flutter; I didn’t hit him, either. He was just transporting me to the medbay, nothing more; I could read a man well enough to be sure of that. Since he was older, I might come to see him as a big brother, given time.

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked him. “I thought you were on Typhon!”

  “I was,” he said. “Marko sent me in case trouble followed you home. You have a certain affinity for complications, and I’m not bad in a fight.”

  I could believe that. Man was solid.

  As we left, I heard Chao-Xing giving orders to Starcurrent about securing the cargo. First time I ever knew an Abyin Dommas to lose zis patience. “Worry about yourself, Zhang Chao-Xing. Injuries first, goods second.”

  Bea was waiting in medical with EMITU. Yusuf settled me in the treatment chair and said, “I’m glad you all made it back in one piece.”

  My laugh meant I wasn’t sure if my condition qualified, but when he smiled back, I was so glad we’d pulled him and Starcurrent out of their lifepods. To know these two were alive because of us? That was an awesome feeling. Even if I was currently a mess, I could see that being over with Typhon had—weirdly enough—given Yusuf something that not even Nadim had been able to provide: purpose. Like me, Yusuf had a warrior’s heart.

  Bea shooed the man out then. And cast an appalled glance over me. “Look at you. It will take days for your skinsuit to repair! And these cuts . . .”

  “Sorry.” Rote response, as she helped peel me out of my gear, because I was trying to understand where this sudden flare of pain was coming from. Maybe adrenaline had iced it out until now?

  The smell of copper nearly overwhelmed me, and I went lightheaded when I saw the scope of damage to my skin. So many red slices on the brown, smeared and trickling, and that didn’t even encompass the wounds I could feel but not see.

  “How are you still conscious?” EMITU asked. “This is significant blood loss, Zara Cole. Did you fight a brood of vampires?”

  “How do you know about vampires? Is that critical medical info?”

  “Even a medical unit has hobbies.”

  “Well, sure, could have been vampires,” I mumbled. “Feels like it.” No wonder I’d been so dizzy; it was a damn miracle I hadn’t dropped back in the temple.

  First, I got some quality pain meds, so that I tingled and then went numb. I also cared a lot less what was happening to my naked body—had to be naked, as that sharp silvery dust had gotten everywhere and needed to be removed before it cut me even more. Some of my slashes had to be laser-sealed; others EMITU treated with the flesh-caulk sealant he’d put on my hands before, but I was too muzzy and dreaming to really be sure what the autodoc was doing.

  The meds wore off before he finished, though. My head got right again, and I looked down at my ankle, now tightly wrapped in a flex-cast. “Is it broken?”

  “Snapped like a chicken’s neck,” EMITU said cheerfully. “Congratulations on a sincerely painful injury.”

  “Well, damn.”

  “I got your robe,” Bea said. “And EMITU and I gave you a thorough bed-bathing while you were out. It’ll be hard for you to shower for a day or two.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled up at her.

  To my surprise, she hugged me tight, gentle and careful, but with more affection than it felt like I’d gotten my entire life. Hesitantly I put my hands on her back. “Bea?”

  “I was scared too,” she whispered, nuzzling
her soft cheek against mine. “When you cut Nadim off, you shut me out too. We don’t want to lose you, Zara. Neither of us does.”

  Damn if she didn’t make me tear up, and I tried to blink them back, but a few trickled out anyway. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  Maybe I would’ve said something more, something sweet, but EMITU sure knew how to ruin the moment. “Get a room!”

  I let out a snuffled laugh and so did Bea. We took the hint; she helped me to my quarters, and I hobbled to the bed. “Where’s Chao-Xing? Is she okay?”

  “Yusuf took her back in their Hopper. There was no waiting in their medbay, so . . .”

  Yeah, that made sense. “You know I appreciate you, right?” I wanted to say that she was downright precious, but I couldn’t quite get the words out yet, and I was so tired.

  “Same here,” she said. “You’re always willing to risk yourself, but I’ve got to say, I’ve had just about enough of seeing you hurt.”

  Once she left, I rolled off the bed onto the floor in movements so slow, I was sure I looked elderly. But I wanted my palms and soles on Nadim because I had some serious amends to make. He hadn’t said much since we got back, and I’d promised we would talk later. I owed him that conversation before passing out.

  “Nadim?” I made contact, but the lights stayed off.

  In fact, it took a few minutes for him to answer. “Yes, Zara.”

  “Guess you’re pretty mad.” That was a statement, not a question.

  “Angry? Yes. And hurt, as well. Did you think . . . what exactly did you think I would do if something happened to you down there?”

  “I don’t know,” I said miserably. “I just didn’t want you to be hurt.”

  “If something happens to you, Zara, I will be eviscerated. It will be as if my sun has gone out, do you understand? I would not plummet to my death because I must care for Beatriz. She is my singer, and I would live on for her. But without you, there would be an eternal darkness in me, like you’ve seen in Typhon. And for you to deny me your last moments, even a final glimpse of you to carry into the dark? That is heartless.”

  I imagined it then: Nadim, like Typhon, trapped in mourning throughout the centuries, missing me, wanting me, denied even the last touch with me, and I lost it. The tears I couldn’t give completely to Bea in the medbay scalded my cheeks. The pain was too big; I couldn’t swallow it down. It hammered the breath out of me.

  My words came out choppy, staccato with sobs I was trying to hold in. “I’m sorry, all right? I messed up big. I won’t ever do it again. I promise. Not for any reason.” I cried into the curve of my arm, and I was sure Nadim could feel those tears, dripping slowly onto the floor, part of him now as they dried. My salt on his skin. “Forgive me, please? It’s been a shitty day for me too.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean for you to suffer.”

  The lights came on then, all around me, so my body was haloed in that brightness, and I could feel the surface warming where we touched. I played Nadim with my fingertips, painting in light, sweet colors that vibrated with life.

  Yeah, we’re both here. We’re together.

  That had to be enough. When we got back to the Sliver, we’d be gearing up for war. Against the Phage. Nobody knew how the hell that would turn out. I put my cheek against Nadim and held on, because this one perfect moment might need to last a lifetime.

  I felt him humming, deep inside, in frequencies that soothed something in me. A lullaby, giving me permission to sleep safe and dream of drinking sunlight.

  I got up to find an argument in progress. Not Bea and Starcurrent, but Starcurrent and—via the comms—Marko. I limped in—the ankle was going to be a pain in my ass—and draped myself on the couch as I spectated. I had coffee and a doughnut with sprinkles—not the same as a delicious deep-fried one, but close enough for my sweet tooth.

  As ze quarreled with Marko, Starcurrent’s tentacles went rainbow. I didn’t know what rainbow meant, but it couldn’t be good, because ze was saying, “—not recommended to move it! Have secured it in an armored safehold. Nadim grew new materials specifically for this purpose, to ensure no danger exists!”

  “Nadim?” I kept it to a low whisper. “What are we upset about?”

  “Typhon wishes us to surrender the body to him.”

  “And . . . we don’t want that?”

  “Typhon is still healing,” Nadim said. “I am stronger. Therefore, it’s a more logical choice for me to monitor the cargo.”

  “Yeah, but he’s got a point. He’s equipped with a shitload of interior defenses you don’t have. If this body turns out to be not-so-dead . . .”

  “All scans show it to be an inert corpse, long deceased.”

  I’d never really gotten a good look at the thing. I supposed I should, but right now I was basking in the sweet glow of not giving a damn. If it was dead, fine, be dead all day.

  “You want me to step in and tell Typhon to—”

  “No.” Nadim’s warmth curled around me like a blanket, encouraging me to stay where I was. “Starcurrent is more than capable of handling this zimself.”

  “Poor Marko,” I said. “I’ve never seen Starcurrent go full rainbow.”

  It took longer than I expected, but Starcurrent finally got Marko to stand down. Ze settled down to normal bioluminescent flashes, like firefly sparks going off under zis skin. It was a good look. “Your friend is very stubborn,” ze said to me, and undulated into a chair, tentacles dangling. “Confess not to understand why humans take such risks when it is unnecessary to do so.”

  “We jump off high bridges with rubber bands attached,” I mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate icing and bread. “For fun. We’re weird. But I think this was more about Typhon wanting to protect Nadim.”

  “Ah. Yes,” Starcurrent said, and waved some tendrils. “This I understand. Same among my people, instinct to protect the smaller and more fragile. Is why I like you.”

  I nearly snorted hot coffee. I hadn’t been called small or fragile in a long time. I’d been a strong, wiry kid, and the Zone had put muscles on my thin frame. “Well, thanks,” I said, because I didn’t go around offending people every day. “I like you too, Starcurrent. That was some quality snatch-and-grab work you did down there. Without you, we’d never have made it.”

  Zis tendrils gently waved the compliment away. “Would like to take the opportunity to take samples from the body,” ze said. “Is acceptable to you?”

  Hell no, I wanted to say, but ze seemed so eager that I found myself saying, “If you think it’s safe. But only if you’re sure.”

  “Is inert,” ze said. “Will be careful. I have seen the vids in your library, Zara.”

  “Even the scary ones?”

  “For a species with so little experience of the galaxy, your vision of it is one of fear.” Ze studied me for a few seconds, all zis tentacles gone quiet. “You should hope more, Zara.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll hope when I have reason to. And maybe our paranoia prepped us for space better than you think. The Phage aren’t misunderstood. They’re a plague.”

  “Acknowledged, am ill-equipped to understand,” Starcurrent said. “Perhaps the Leviathan Elders were wiser than even they knew, to bring such a race as yours to us now.”

  I finished my treat. Every bite brought back bittersweet memories . . . doughnuts were something that could be made cheap in the Zone, fried up in old pots over busted camp stoves, slathered with sugary chocolate made from melted-down fancies from New Detroit. Sprinkles? Those were a luxury. The taste took me back to the streets, and I realized how far I’d run from them this time.

  All the way to the stars.

  “Shall be about my work,” Starcurrent said, and slid out of the seat in a writhing rush. “Zara? Should rest.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, and licked my fingers. Never let good icing go to waste. “A little blood loss? Nothing much. But hey, while we’re on it—thank you.”

  Starcurrent’s fringes flared
a delighted pink, but ze just waved a few of them and slithered off, quickly.

  I drank the rest of my coffee and said to Nadim, “I’ll be with Starcurrent.”

  Nadim’s reply came tinged with concern. “Why?”

  “Because I want to see a dead god-king. Not very often you get that chance.”

  That wasn’t the reason, and he knew it, but we both pretended it was. I stopped by the armory and picked out a discreet, high-powered weapon to carry on my hip. I wasn’t sure what would stop a god-king . . . probably nothing, but I felt better for having it.

  I clipped my trusty personal defense shield to my belt too. Damn thing worked just fine. We’d have been dead in five minutes down on that rotten world without it.

  Beatriz found me as I trailed Starcurrent to the newly created secure storage. She fell into step with my limp. “What are we doing?”

  “I’m going to keep an eye on Starcurrent and zis badass science project.”

  “Because you’re all the backup anyone needs, even when you’re hurt.” Beatriz sighed at me and plucked the rifle from my hands. “Nadim, you’ll alert us if anything weird happens, right?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Since I can’t keep either of you from doing this, any more than I can Starcurrent.”

  I tried to reassure him. “We’ll be okay. You said it yourself: the king is dead.”

  “What worries me,” Bea said, “is what usually follows when people say that.”

  “Yeah.” I tested the weight of the personal shield on my belt. “Long live the king.”

  Like the rest of Nadim’s human-occupied interior, the special, secure cargo hold was a comfortable temperature. Honestly, it gave me the creeps to be hauling this carcass; I didn’t want this sort of twisted power anywhere near those I cared about. Starcurrent opened the doors with a code that I didn’t bother to memorize. After I satisfied my curiosity, I would not be coming back.

  With a peculiar reverence, Starcurrent unwrapped the corpse. Then I got my first good look at what we’d dragged out of that temple, and my brain couldn’t handle it. Look away! it must have ordered, because before I could even resolve what I was seeing, I was staring at a safe, blank, metallic wall. Beside me, Bea had turned away, hands over her face.