Clockwork Memories

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Clockwork Memories Page 6

by Sarina Dorie


  She whined as I petted her. Wanting more, she rolled onto her belly. The motion jerked the corpse into me, but it was at least free of her tusks now. I patted her belly, trying to ignore the bloody smear on my dress.

  “That’s a good girl,” I cooed.

  She was one of the tamer chiramantesp, probably raised in the care of the Tanukijin since she’d been a pup. I glanced at the man’s body. It still lay face down. If I fed the flower to the animal it would surely keep her occupied while I turned the man over. Of course, then I wouldn’t have more pollen to coat my hand while I passed through the groups of other animals on my way back.

  I didn’t see what other choice I had. I dangled the flower in front of her head. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she tried to lick the flower. I threw it as far as I could. The chiramantep rolled over to retrieve her treat.

  I grasped the man by the shoulders and rolled him over. His hair was the color of dark honey, but it was more of a tint over silver. For a long moment I didn’t recognize the face. It was too old to be Meriwether’s. I stared at the vacant gray eyes and clean-shaven face. He’d shaved in a hurry, if the nicks at his jaw were any indication. At least, they might have been nicks from shaving if they weren’t injuries from chiramantep tusks or the encounter with the soldiers. As I studied his face longer, I realized it was Captain Ford—only without his beard and mustache.

  Chapter Seven

  Honest people don’t hide their deeds.

  ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Space Station

  My ability to remain impartial shattered. I shuddered and turned away. I covered my face with my hands and then pulled them away again upon smelling the stink of chiramantep slobber.

  The captain was dead.

  I hardly recognized him without his beard. He looked ten years younger sans facial hair. Surely he must have had a reason to color his hair and shave. Could he have been trying to pass for Meriwether? And Meriwether for him? But why?

  I turned back. As horrible as it felt to see the captain dead, part of me felt comforted it wasn’t Meriwether. And guilty that I should be relieved this man was gone in his place.

  The chiramantep moaned and rolled her head. The bliss from munching on flowers was short-lived when there were no more—and when the smell of fresh blood was right before her. I backed away. She stomped closer and sniffed at Captain Ford’s gaping wound. I glanced back over the expanse of cage. The other chiramanteps were restless. One of them eyed the body nearest to me. I tiptoed back from the beast munching on Captain Ford’s entrails.

  When I looked to the door, I noticed Jacques was absent from his post at the front of the cage. Had he left me here? Locked me in? I backed toward the wall, not daring to turn away from the chiramanteps.

  The fragrance of flowers became stronger. I straightened and turned.

  Jacques stood behind me. In one hand he held a bouquet of red flowers, in the other he held his tiny gun. He kept it aimed at the nearest chiramantep. As if that would actually stop them.

  “To your rescue,” he said with a bow. “Not many women can say that a bouquet of flowers might be a matter of life or death, but in your case, ma chérie, it truly is so.”

  I snatched a flower from his hand. “I could have made it out without your assistance, in any case.”

  He snorted. I would have to work on my lying skills.

  I rubbed the pollen on my hands and crept along. We kept to the perimeter. One of the chiramanteps lifted his head and snarled in our direction. He shook his head from side to side, stopping and sniffing when he caught the perfume of the flowers. After another minute, three chiramanteps were licking at our hands and nuzzling us with bloody muzzles.

  “Ah, and you tame lions too, I suppose,” Jacques asked.

  “Not quite.”

  When we were out of the pen, and the door locked, fatigue tugged at my frame. I had gotten so little sleep and the events of the day were wearing on me.

  “I saw your reaction when you gazed at that man’s face.” Jacques took my hand.

  “Oh?” I tried not to sound too interested.

  “You were relieved, were you not?”

  I hesitated.

  Jacques went on. “You saw I spoke the truth. N’est-ce pas? You now know what I say to be true and that I am a man of my word.” He lifted my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles, but hesitated, no doubt smelling the chiramantep saliva smeared across my hand. He patted it instead. “I have killed your greatest foe.”

  “Is Meriwether Klark my greatest enemy? Not Lord Klark?” I asked.

  “Mon Dieu! Is nothing I do good enough for you femmes?” He threw up his hands. The nose birds fluttered uneasily in their cages at the volume of his voice. One of the chiramanteps looked up from her pen. Jacques went on. “You are like Lady Macbeth, always desiring more. Was it not enough that I rescued you from Lord Klark’s ship, and kept you from the tyranny of Meriwether Klark en route to his father? Perhaps you thought your disguise clever enough to fool him, Mary Smith, but I tell you, he saw right through it. He knew who you were and intended to imprison you like your sister.”

  “My sister?”

  “Oui, I have seen her. She is safe and alive, but just as you have surely feared, she is in Lord Klark’s keeping. I will take you to her.”

  Now I knew him to be lying, as I had seen my sister a week ago safely on Aynu-Mosir—no longer in Lord Klark’s care. I did my best to keep the suspicion from my voice and tried for a concerned tone. “Where is Lord Klark keeping her?”

  He waved his hand. “At his space station, but of course. Where Meriwether Klark intended to take you as well.”

  “Our ship was on its way to the United Worlds of America, not Lord Klark’s space station. Meriwether promised to take me . . . well, to take me far from his father.” Of course that had been before all the attacks. He’d probably diverted his route. I bit my lip. It wasn’t difficult to look concerned now.

  “If you do not believe me, perhaps I should show you the ship’s logs. In any case, I hate to be the one to tell you, but you’ve been— How do you say?—Duped.” He tucked my arm into the crook of his elbow and started out of the cargo bay.

  I stared at the floor, doing my best not to let my true feelings show. I was not an actress and Sumiko often told me how expressive my face was that it gave away my thoughts before I even knew them myself. I covered my face and sighed. The smell of blood was awful and I pulled my hands away before I gagged. I had to focus. How would I react if I still hated Meriwether?

  Mayhap I would act with more admiration for this man who thought he’d killed Lord Klark’s son.

  Our feet rang on the metal floor of the hallway. We passed Meriwether’s room where I suspected Sumiko rested. Our path took us toward the bridge.

  Jacques’ fingers remained on mine in a manner too forward and cavalier for my liking. “Do not feel ashamed, chérie. Those Klarks are a clever lot. N’est-ce pas? What is important is that you and Mademoiselle Sumiko are safe now. My only regret is we no longer have Lord Klark’s son for ransom. The capitaine will be so disappointed when I tell him.” He sighed dramatically. “It would be so much easier to draw in Lord Klark and kill him if he thought we had his son.”

  I hesitated, uncertain whether he was playing me. As much as I dreaded meeting Lord Klark, it did seem to be a necessity if I were to avenge my father’s death and ensure Lord Klark never killed the natives of Aynu-Mosir again.

  “Must you tell your captain that Meriwether Klark is dead?” I asked.

  “Oui. Capitaine Jeanfreau will continue looking for him if I don’t tell him he’s dead. I will have no way to return to the planet to deliver weapons for you either.” He sighed again and patted my hand in a patronizing manner. “Jeanfreau will be angry, no? Such a loss for us to lose such an . . . esteemed prisoner. A ransom always does put the capitaine in a cheery mood.”

  “What if you tell the captain I have confided in you that I know where he is?” I asked.

 
“Ah, if you say he is on the planet? I could deliver arms then.”

  Did I actually want this ship and this man to go back to the planet where my sister, niece and countless Jomon resided? This man was a rake and a liar. It was unlikely he would ever deliver weapons to the planet. Even if he did, that was no solution to their problems. The Jomon would be as likely to shoot the American ships sent to aid them as they would be to target Lord Klark’s ships. What I wanted was to put as much space between Aynu-Mosir and this ship as possible.

  I wanted him to deliver us to Lord Klark. Otherwise who would see to it that justice was served?

  “No, Capitaine Jeanfreau will not return to the planet,” Jacques said, answering his own question. “He knows this is Lord Klark’s ship. He is interrogating your Captain Ford as we speak. Jeanfreau will have the truth soon enough.” He eyed me with cat-like cunning.

  He’d get as much of the truth as Meriwether allowed.

  I swallowed. “What if I tell your captain I am Meriwether Klark’s fiancée?”

  His gaze turned pitying. “Chérie, I do not know how to tell you this. You are, how do you say in English? You are a spoiled fruit.” He touched a finger to my scarred cheek. “The East Milky Way Trading Company has a reputation to uphold, no? No one will believe you are the most influential businessman’s future daughter-in-law.”

  “Even if I am?”

  He stopped in his tracks. His eye widened.

  I lifted my chin. “Meriwether Klark informed me I have a considerable dowry and fortune. One so large even he wished to marry me.” What had Sumiko said? One must sandwich a lie between two truths to make it easier to swallow. I turned away, not daring to trust my face. I continued walking to the bridge. “I refused him, of course. However, I was his captive and would have been his bride if you hadn’t intervened. He’d wished the captain to marry us.” I forced my lips into a smile before I turned back to him. “We needn’t say I was only his betrothed. Let Lord Klark believe our marriage was consummated, but undocumented in Captain Ford’s log.”

  “Oui, this might work. You, his bride with the fortune. Mademoiselle Sumiko, his exotic mistress.” He pulled at his mustache. “Unless Lord Klark doesn’t care about the fortune.”

  “What do you think Lord Klark would care about?” I thought of Meriwether’s parting suggestion. “Do you think he would be persuaded if I carried the unborn the heir of his eldest son?”

  Jacques’ jaw dropped. “You mean to say . . . ? Oui, we shall claim you are with child! The captain will ransom you and Mademoiselle Sumiko more easily if Lord Archibald Klark believes that. Of course, Archie Klark will be disappointed to learn of his son’s death, but. . . .” He shrugged indifferently. “We are past needing his funding. We have the backing of your diamonds and your fortune. N’est-ce pas?”

  A chill crept up my spine. Now Jacques would be after my supposed fortune. It then occurred to me, my actual fortune. I wasn’t penniless. I had an inheritance and actually might be able to do some good with it for Aynu-Mosir—if it wasn’t invaded by French mercenaries.

  “We will draw Lord Klark in, be paid the ransom, and then I shall kill him for you. This is to your liking, no?”

  We stopped outside the bridge. Jacques waved a hand before the panel to the right and the doors swished opened. He strode over to the monitor where Captain Ford had previously surveyed star charts. The screen was blank. He tapped at a key.

  I cleared my throat. “That being as it may, it would be in your best interest for Lord Klark to believe his son is alive. What if, due to carefully planned negligence, I gain access to the ship’s comm unit and send a few seconds of message to Lord Klark himself? I will have just enough time to beg for his aid to save us and his son before you catch me in the act and cut off transmission.”

  “Ambition. It is the sin of all women.” A wicked grin crossed his aspect. “And men.” He tugged me into his arms and kissed me.

  Chapter Eight

  Give evil nothing to oppose and it will disappear by itself.

  —Ancient Jomon proverb

  Kissing someone who makes you want to vomit is never easy. Pretending you like it is even more of a challenge. Certainly, Jacques was handsome in his rugged way, but he was also an opportunistic scoundrel. And potentially Sumiko’s former lover.

  He backed me against a navigation console so I had no way to escape. His hands rested on my waist, warm through the layers of blouse, corset and chemise. He was a confident kisser, a man well-practiced in the arts of seduction. I might have enjoyed his skill had I not loathed him so much. Or been betrothed to someone I loved.

  I pulled back an inch. “I am a lady. This is quite forward.”

  Jacques’ mouth smoothed over my cheek. “Do you expect Lord Klark to believe you are with child if you do not make an effort to become so?”

  I had to find a way out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. When I thought back to all the prattle I’d overheard the elderly women give to young wives in the onsen, it was usually to encourage passion rather than squelch it. I wracked my brain. There was only one woman I knew who ever spoke of ways to defend oneself.

  Tomomi Sensei’s gruff voice filled my head. “There’s one simple way to stop a man. It is more powerful than sticks or a knee to the groin: kill the mood with words.”

  I broke away. “How do you know Sumiko?”

  He scooped me closer. “Forget about her. She doesn’t mean a thing to me.”

  “Oh? That’s not what it sounded like to me. You made the arms agreement with her. You were lovers, weren’t you?”

  “It was only a business relationship. That’s all. You are the one I want.” He left a trail of kisses down my neck. Thank goodness for the high collar stopping him from going further.

  I made my tone insolent and unbecoming like my niece when she whined. “Even though you think I’m spoiled fruit?”

  “No, that is what Lord Klark would think.” He pressed his lips to mine, cutting off further remark.

  I turned my head to the side. “Not you?”

  “Why must you be like this? You are the most vexing female I have ever met! Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?”

  “About four hours, I imagine. Why did you not want Sumiko to tell me about how you were a double-crosser? What else did you promise her that you didn’t follow through with? Did you promise to marry her?”

  He swore in French. This time he didn’t pardon himself. “If it pleases you, I will take you back to your room, mademoiselle.”

  “No, it doesn’t please me. You promised me you would show me the captain’s log and the charts of his intended destination.”

  “Now? I have other duties I must perform. I am an officer.”

  “Yes, and a womanizer. Show me the captain’s log. Then I will make my subspace call to Lord Klark.”

  I sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge of the Absinthe. Had I not been shown the star charts previously by Meriwether and Captain Ford, I wouldn’t have known what to look for. As it was, I was so astonished I could hardly believe my eyes. Meriwether had lied to me. He’d promised to take me home to my grandmother on Earth. Although we started off in that direction to make it to the nearest hyperjump point, our path then veered toward a farther hyperjump station. I knew there had been a change of plan when Meriwether and Captain Ford had decided to outrun our pursuers, but that had only been in the last day. This deviation from course looked to be far earlier in our journey.

  Jacques pointed to the chart. “You can clearly see this station which lets out at this point.” He pointed to a dot labeled, “New Campton Manor Space Station.”

  I wanted to ask how he knew it would let out at Lord Klark’s station, but I feared the less I admitted I knew about space flight, the more my ignorance would show. I wanted to believe Meriwether hadn’t changed course, nor lied unless he’d had a good reason. However, I couldn’t imagine what it would be.

  Jacques leaned against a monitor. He inspected his fingernails.
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  I thought of Meriwether, who surely was posing as Captain Ford. “Might I be given leave to speak with the captain of the Absinthe?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I suspect he is quite exhausted from his interrogation, no? Do not think because I offered to interrogate you in the captain’s stead, I make such sacrifices of my time for all prisoners.”

  “Prisoners?”

  “Oui, from our other conquests. Most prisoners are not treated so, how shall we say? Gently.”

  “Do you mean to say they’ve tortured him?” My stomach clenched at the idea of them harming Meriwether.

  He shrugged. “Something to that effect.”

  “And you’ve intervened on Sumiko’s and my behalf out of the kindness of your heart.”

  “Oui, so chivalrous, I know. I am what you would call a lady’s man, no?” An impish smile curled to his lips.

  I shook my head. All this was too much to process. I was overwrought by fatigue and stress. More than anything I needed a few moments alone.

  He placed an arm around me. “I will comfort you.”

  I recoiled. “Have I inadvertently given you some reason to act so familiar?”

  “You American females are so feisty.” He smoothed his dark mustache into place.

  “I wish to see Sumiko.”

  “So that you might conspire. No, I think not. Make your subspace call.” He waved a hand at the monitor.

  I pressed a button, hoping it was the right one. An alarm went off on the bridge. Jacques rushed over to a console and tapped at a screen that silenced the alarm.

  He snorted. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t know how to work the comm units? You hatched up a plan, but don’t know how to execute it? Mon dieu! You make me laugh.”

  “Just show me how this blasted thing works.”

  “But of course. I will then take you back to your quarters to think upon my good character.”

 

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