Except for when Stella would melt into tears in my arms. Then I was glad that I was with her—whatever it might cost me.
On the third morning, we held the small funeral, consisting only of Bronson’s children and grandchildren, four golf buddies, a dozen people from the church he’d attended, and two men he’d served with in the Navy as a teen. Stella dressed the part of the grieving widow in a trim black suit and hat. It reminded me of something worn at funerals fifty years ago minus the veil across the eyes.
She’d Changed early, at twenty-eight, almost two centuries ago, which put her physically at thirty-two, but today she’d directed her nanites to change her appearance, faintly aging her skin so Bronson’s children wouldn’t wonder at her youth. “Black gloves and my half-Japanese heritage should take care of the rest,” she said.
I knew some technopaths could use nanites to slightly alter their faces, and that Stella had enhanced her appearance for years. She claimed that if Cort created faster, more intricate nanites, she might be able to age far more convincingly, but as it was, the nanites had severe limitations, made more difficult by the Unbounded metabolism that worked hard to put everything back the way it was supposed to be. Even with the aging, she was still beautiful. Seeing her as she might look in a thousand years brought a lump to my throat that didn’t leave for the whole service.
I told myself I was only worried about the Emporium crashing our party.
We both wore bulletproof vests under our clothes, which wasn’t nearly the problem it was in the jungle because Oregon was cold and the added heat welcome. Our coats hid any unseemly bulk. But there were no problems at the funeral and no interruptions at the cemetery.
Finally it was over, and we headed for the airport, checking for a possible tail as we always did. Charles was meeting me at our plane with a few more supplies, and Stella was taking a commercial flight to New York. I was tempted to go with her, but I had my orders from Ava, and I was anxious to get to work so that I could be reunited with my children. Our Renegades were depending on me to create a safe haven, a fortress, and that’s what I’d do. I’d already directed the contractor to fill the walls with more cables than my security plans would ever need, but I was feeling pressure to get there and make sure it was done right.
There was a little time before her flight, so Stella dropped me off at the sprawling corrugated metal hangar that we rented and shared with a half dozen other companies. I still had preflight checks and clearances to undergo before I followed through on my filed flight plan, and she’d most likely be in the air on her flight to New York before I took off.
I pushed open the car door, planning to wave a casual goodbye, but Stella killed the engine. I raised my eyebrows. “I’ll come in to say goodbye to Charles,” she explained. Already her face had returned to normal.
“He should be here,” I said, looking around. “But I don’t see the rental car. Unless he changed plans, the car company was supposed to pick it up here.”
“I can wait.”
I didn’t remind her that she’d said goodbye to Charles before the funeral, which he’d attended, though he hadn’t gone to the gravesite itself with us afterward. I had the feeling her coming into the hangar wasn’t about Charles at all, but I couldn’t exactly call her on it. Maybe she just liked planes. That I could understand.
I unlocked the hangar and deactivated the alarm. Stella followed me inside a lobby that was really more of a shared hangout where pilots and businessmen would rest between flights when there wasn’t time to go home. We had vending machines, a television, couches, and restrooms. It was better than a lot of hangars I’d worked out of. I could tell no one was here at the moment because the heat was off. I reset the alarm.
Opening the door to the main part of the hangar, I turned on some lights that were still far too dim in the vast space. We had more light coming from the windows in the hangar doors themselves than from the artificial lights, even on this cloudy, winter day.
The door closed behind us as we started down the lines of planes, each one backed in like a car in a garage. The hangar didn’t have many frills, but we each had a small office and a large wheeled cart to store tools. We also shared a maintenance guy who worked on the planes and went up in the overhead rafters to change the lights. The smell of engines and planes reminded me of my first job in a garage when I was in high school. It was the year the flying bug had bitten deeply after I’d gone up in a small two-seater with one of the clients.
A couple of the newer planes were state-of-the-art corporate jets, and I’d salivated over them more than once or twice. I’d even flown a few on occasions in the two months we’d been here, pinch-hitting for their pilots or riding copilot.
“Doesn’t look like Charles is here yet,” I said as we reached our plane. Door was shut, no lights inside. “I’d better open the hangar door. Got a lot to do before takeoff.”
“Chris, wait.” Stella’s hand fell on my arm. “Look, thank you for staying here so long to help me with everything. You really didn’t have to.”
“I needed to research security systems anyway. And, let’s face it, you helped me more than I did you.”
Her hand didn’t leave my arm, and I became acutely aware of how isolated we were alone inside this remote hangar, separated by only the sleeve of my jacket.
“It was the least I could do,” she said. “The house in San Diego is beautiful, but it’s going to need heavy renovations to become what we need.”
“My plan is to have it done in four weeks. Or most of it,” I said. “Thanks to Ava pulling strings with that big contractor. I’m meeting the security company there tonight.”
“No more running.” Stella was keeping up the conversation, but her eyes were far away. “It’ll be good to have a permanent place.”
There was also danger in staying put, but she was right that it felt good. “I’ll make it safe.”
I’d made a similar promise, though not in so many words, to Lorrie all those years ago when we married. No way could I guess that fourteen years and two children later we would be facing an Emporium hit team, or that Lorrie would step in the way of a bullet meant for me. None of that had been in my plans. Neither could I have dreamed of what Stella would sacrifice for my children. This time I was going to make sure no one got to my family or any of the Renegades.
Something of my thoughts must have shown in my face because Stella said quietly, “It’s not your fault.”
Her touch still burned through my sleeve. “I know.”
Her mouth parted, her tongue wetting her lips. She seemed about to say more but suddenly leaned over to hug me, burying her face in my chest and making it difficult for me to think about anything except how wonderful her hair smelled and how right she felt in my arms. I’d held her quite a few times this way in the past few days, and if I was honest with myself, I didn’t know how much more I could take without doing something to scare her away. She was so alive and yet so vulnerable. I didn’t trust myself as much as she seemed to.
However, I did understand her—the yearning for children, the cold, gaping emptiness that had once been filled with warmth and love, and most of all the guilt for being the one left alive. Her nearness made me forget all of that, made me forget everything but the furious pounding of my heart. She had to notice its throbbing with her cheek pressed tightly against my chest. I let my hand creep up to touch her silky hair.
“Look, Chris,” she said softly without meeting my gaze, “I want a baby. I’ve already lived more than three lifetimes, and I don’t want to wait any longer.” A small hiccup marred the last words. She drew back and looked up into my eyes. “I delayed too long with Bronson. I have to live with that, and with him being gone forever, but I can still have a baby, if you’ll help me.”
Emotions tumbled through me. My body felt alive with them, but my brain warned caution. “What are you saying?”
“This.” She put her arms around my neck, stretching up to meet me. I felt helpless as her l
ips touched mine. Then I was kissing her, pulling her closer, ignoring the twinge in my split lip that wasn’t quite healed. If it had been any other woman, wanting her in this way would have made me feel disloyal to Lorrie, but it was Stella, who’d saved our babies’ lives, who’d lost so much with Bronson’s death. I wanted her. I’d be crazy not to.
Except somewhere in the part of me that was still sane, I knew this wasn’t Stella talking. Maybe it would be some day, but not now. Not with Bronson so newly gone and her baby so recently lost. Unbounded or not, she needed more time. Maybe I did too.
I pulled backward until I hit the door to our office, but she followed me, not letting me go. She was soft, so full of life! I wanted her more than I’d probably wanted anything in a long time. My body screamed in protest at my inaction.
It’s too soon.
Her beautiful eyes held mine, begging for my agreement. I had to at least try to prevent us from making this mistake. For her sake.
I put my hands on her shoulders, holding her away from me. “Stella,” I said with a strained voice I barely recognized as my own. “I know you’re missing Bronson, but you’re not thinking straight right now. I know because I went through the same thing when I lost Lorrie, and I—”
She chopped at my arms, forcing them from her shoulders. “You don’t know anything!” Tears started down her face. “I watched Bronson grow old. I watched him change from the vital man I married to an old, sick stranger, who had no interest in going on trips or going hiking or even leaving the house. No interest in sex. I loved him so much, but the Bronson who died wasn’t the man I fell in love with—and I couldn’t grow old with him or change with him.”
She was crying full force now and tearing my heart in two with her anguish. Her pain was deep and raw. “It wasn’t fair. It’s just not fair!” Again her face buried in my chest, and I held on to her, tears pricking my own eyes. There was nothing I could do but hold her.
After a long time the storm abated. “Yes,” she said with another little hiccup, pulling away once more to look into my face. “I miss Bronson, but I miss the man I fell in love with, not the old man who went on without me. I miss feeling his body against mine. I miss being wanted more than food or work or the newest television show. I miss the nights we didn’t sleep because we couldn’t get enough of each other. I miss camping under the stars, traveling all over the world. I miss it all!” She paused and took a deep breath. “But none of that’s new. I’ve missed him for years. All I could do was to cling to what we had left.”
She slumped dejectedly. Wanting to comfort her, I pulled her tightly against me. Her face lifted to mine, her lips beckoning to be kissed, and I wanted more than anything to do that. My thin control vanished, and my lips met hers. This was where I wanted to be, and though I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, I didn’t know how to stop myself. Her lips parted and I tasted her passion. It took me three tries before I could pull away enough to clear my throat and speak.
“Oh, Stella,” I whispered, “you have no idea how much I want you right now. But I won’t take advantage of your grief.” There, the words were out. I knew I might regret them for the rest of my life. I also knew that if she kissed me again, all my brave words would mean absolutely nothing.
Silence fell for a long moment as she searched my face. When she spoke, her words were calmer. “Then just give me a baby.” She didn’t add that I owed her, but we both knew I did. She’d saved my children, and if I gave her a hundred babies, it would never be enough to make up for the one she’d lost.
I opened my mouth to speak, though I didn’t know what would come out. Whatever the words, they were lost as the sound of gunfire broke through the air, shattering my indecision.
I grabbed Stella and dived with her behind the metal tool station.
I HADN’T BEEN CAREFUL about our trajectory, and I landed on my back, with Stella on top of me. Despite Dimitri’s earlier ministrations, pain shot through my ribs. I gritted my teeth and reached for my gun.
Stella already had her pistol out. She eased off me, peering around the tool station. “I don’t think they’re firing at us,” she whispered. “Did that come from the lobby?”
“I think so. They must be firing at Charles. Probably attacked him after he entered but before he reset the alarm because I don’t hear it. But they’ll know someone else is here because of the lights and the car. Look, I’ll be right back. Cover me.” I stood and darted to the next tool cart and then to a group of light switches. They had them embedded periodically along the wall so that we wouldn’t have to go all the way to the lobby doors to shut them on or off. I turned off all four circuits that lit the vast space and returned to Stella.
“How did they find us?” This close I could see her eyes widen with a possibility. “You don’t think it was the funeral, do you? Maybe they suspected that Bronson was linked to the Renegades. I tried to keep him away from that side of my life, but they could have identified him and tracked us from the graveyard.” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded panicked. “You don’t think they followed Bronson’s kids, do you? I’d never forgive myself if—”
“No,” I said more gruffly than I intended. “They would have attacked us at the mortuary or at the cemetery. We were there by ourselves. Would have been easy to pick us off. No, I think they’ve been watching this hangar. Must have traced the flight from Mexico.” That meant César and Diego had returned to their little house by the makeshift runway. I hoped for Marisa’s sake that the Emporium had left them alive.
“I should have created new numbers and papers,” Stella said. “I always do that when there’s any possibility of being traced.”
“We didn’t know there was a need.”
My words didn’t fool her. All the excuses in the world wouldn’t be enough. “I should have done it.”
“Must be Marco they’re firing at.”
“We have to help him.”
“They won’t kill him. Not until they get inside the plane or find us.”
“I hope you’re right.”
So did I.
I took the lead. After two centuries of training, Stella was more experienced, and in a fair fight, she’d hand me my head on a platter, but this hangar was my domain. Problem was that we kept a fairly uncluttered place, and besides the wheeled tool stations, and the planes themselves, there wasn’t much to hide us. Inside the office, we’d be sitting ducks. I opened the tool cart and took out the largest wire cutters I had. “Take whatever you think you might need. You have enough ammo?”
“Two extra magazines.” She was putting on her silencer as she spoke. “Never leave home without them.”
“Sounds like Ritter.”
“I learned from the best. Wish I had an assault rifle, though.”
I was glad to hear the panic was gone from her voice. In fact, she sounded almost excited. Yet I didn’t like the idea of her in another confrontation so soon.
I motioned to the ladder next to the office door. “I’m going up and over the catwalks they use to change the lights. I’ll see if I can drop down behind them when they come in, or maybe shoot them from above. I might be able to cut the wiring to the lights. Darkness is in our favor, especially if they’re used to the light outside.”
“I’ll cover you.”
She meant in case they came in while I was on my way up, but I didn’t intend to let that happen. I hurried up the ladder, skipping two rungs with every step. It was a long, long way up, but the catwalks came quicker than expected. As I reached the top, I spied the first of the electrical circuits and snipped the wires, then hurried along the catwalk to the next. A thin but sturdy piece of metal formed a halfway decent handrail on one side of the catwalk, but it was a good thing I didn’t share my sister’s acrophobia—something her Change hadn’t fixed.
I’d only snipped two circuits when the door from the lobby slammed opened. “Where are the damn lights?” someone growled.
I sprinted to the wiring of the third ci
rcuit and cut it a half second before the lights came on in the farthermost section. Well, I obviously wouldn’t make it to that circuit in time, but at least I’d taken out three of the four.
I lay flat on the catwalk, knowing they would soon be looking instinctively upward as they continued to flip the switches, trying to get the other circuits on.
“That’s it?” one of the men below growled. “No more lights?”
“It’s a hangar,” Charles said, “not a hotel.”
“Shut up.”
The failing lights should let Charles know I was here, but I hoped that knowledge wouldn’t make him overconfident. It was still us versus six Emporium agents, all dressed in black, carrying pistols and wearing sword sheaths. Two of them held assault rifles. Definitely an Emporium hit team. I tried to match their faces with the files we had on known Emporium agents, but nothing was coming to me. I didn’t know how many were Unbounded and how many might be mortal soldiers, but I had to assume the worst. That meant six combatants who wouldn’t really die unless I dismembered them.
Of course to get that far, I first had to immobilize them. Or temporarily kill them.
Maybe it was better that I didn’t know which might be Unbounded and which were mortal. Knowing might make me hesitate.
“You two find the lights,” said a big Latino, who seemed to be in charge. “Meet us at the plane.”
I stayed motionless as they left the entrance and started down the line of planes. I couldn’t risk them seeing me in the dim light. But two staying behind was good because my plane was parked on the very end of the row, and the others would soon be far enough away for me to act safely.
Three men and one woman took off down the line of planes with Charles, while the man and woman who stayed behind continued flipping light switches and staring above them. Nothing to do but wait until they grew bored and tried something else.
“I’ll go see if there’s a circuit breaker out there,” the man finally said, opening the door to the lobby.
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