by Susan Grant
He stroked her damp, close-cropped hair. "After the past few hours, I can't imagine we have any secrets left."
"Well, there's one. A rather big one."
He moved her back
She tipped her chin up. "You know your cousin Tee'ah?"
While he tried and failed to picture the woman, she said, "Well, I'm her. Princess Tee'ah, daughter of the Dars."
"You're… Tee'ah?" He prayed it was a bad joke brought on by their impending asphyxiation.
"Yes. That's how I knew who Klark was. That's how I eventually figured out who you were." Quieter, she said, "That's why everything you're trying to accomplish in the frontier means so much to me."
Speechless, he stared into her pale gold eyes, the eyes of a Vash Nadah princess, a princess he'd just deflowered out of wedlock, going against every law the Vash had in place. He felt lightheaded, and not from lack of air. "The way I treated you… The places I took you—"
"Overprotection was why I left home. With you I found everything I'd always dreamed of."
And hadn't he, too?
Twenty-eight minutes.
He glanced at the air-remaining readout and grimaced. Strangely, he wasn't afraid of dying; just incredibly pissed. But if he was going to go out, he was going to do it right. He took hold of Tee's hands. "This a little after the fact, but considering the circumstances, I ask that you bear with me." He brought her knuckles to his lips. " 'My love, I give you my heart, my allegiance, my promise of fidelity and protection…' "
"The promise ceremony," she whispered.
"Yes," he said, and finished reciting the passages that dated back to the birth of the Treatise of Trade.
Tee's chest rose and fell, faster now. She squeezed his hands, her expression a heart-wrenching blend of grief and joy. " 'My love, I take your promise. In return, I give you my heart, my devotion, my promise of—'"
His personal comm crackled. It used a discreet frequency, known only by his crew, but someone, or something, had just tried to reach him on it.
For a few shocked seconds he and Tee'ah stared at each other. Momentum had carried them toward death and desperate, last-minute pledges. Now rescue had arrived. Unexpectedly. Dazed, they had to shift gears.
Tee stumbled to her feet. "Look! Ships! Two—no three of them."
Ian cupped his hands around his eyes and peered into the blackness of space. The Sun Devil had long dwindled into a speck of light. But the dark form of another starship coasted past at close range. Two more hovered beyond, maneuvering around the pod. The stuffy air and warm temperature dulled his senses, but the likelihood of rescue dragged him to full alertness. Ian brought his comm to his mouth. "Mayday, mayday. Survivors in pod. Mayday, may-day. Twenty minutes of air remaining. I repeat: twenty minutes of air."
Muffin's voice blared loud and clear. "Captain, we've got you in sight. I copy the minutes left. We'll have you onboard in five. Standby for emergency tow."
Their pod was equipped with minimal communication equipment, making it impossible to hear all the transmissions between the ship Muffin was on and the other two, but after a few moments the other pair of would-be rescuers wheeled around and accelerated away.
Muffin's ship closed on their pod, using valuable minutes to decelerate sufficiently to allow the delicate task of pod retrieval to take place. Ian asked, "Is the rest of the crew with you?" Muffin replied, "They're on the Sun Devil." "The Sun Devil? The computer's gone crazy." "We know. When we got there, the computer claimed the ship no longer existed. Quin, Gredda, and Push boarded in life support suits."
Quin's voice chimed in. "You ever hear of nano-machines, Captain?"
"Microscopic computers?"
"Someone got them in our computer. Early in the mission, I'd say."
"Klark?" Tee speculated.
"Likely. High-tech terrorism at its worst. He turned our computer into an unwitting traitor. Any one of the spare parts we bought could have carried the invaders. Over time, and unknown to us, a battle's been going inside the ship's computer between the ship's backup and warning system, and the rudimentary artificial intelligence sent in to destroy it. It's an easy fix, though. Now that the Quillie's computer pointed out the little saboteurs."
Ian exchanged glances with Tee. "That explains all the problems we've been having," she said.
He nodded grimly. Klark's malevolence proved his willingness to kill. How he'd bring Klark to justice would take some thought, though. Ian was still, in many ways, an outsider. Rushing to the Great Council with the accusation that one of their princes had tried to assassinate him would be as ill thought out as slalom skiing on his Harley.
On the side of the rescue ship, clamshell doors opened to a maw revealing an empty cargo bay.
"Prepare to be swallowed whole," Tee said.
He laid his arm over her shoulders. "I am." In more ways than he ever imagined.
A claw-arm extended from the bay, reminding Ian of a tongue. With a thunk, it grabbed hold of the pod, tossing he and Tee to the padded floor. Then it slowly, deliberately drew them inside the ship.
As soon as the gigantic outer door closed behind them, Muffin's voice blasted through the comm. "The bay's pressurized."
Ian cracked the hatch open. Cold, dry air rushed inside. He and Tee filled their lungs with it. Sitting together on the floor, they felt the ship accelerate.
After a short flight a vibration rumbled through the vessel, indicating a docking maneuver was underway.
"The ship we're on is docked with the Sun Devil," Muffin said finally. "I'll come down to get you. Wait until you see who brought me here."
Muffin escorted Ian and Tee'ah out of the cargo bay. Ian climbed the gangway leading to the main deck of the rescuing ship. Tee'ah grabbed hold of the first rung, but Muffin stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. His voice was urgent and low. "Gann is here. He's come to bring you home."
"What?" she asked. Her stomach plummeted. Home? It looked as if her family had finally caught up to her. Only this time there was no place to run. "Gann… who?"
"Gann Truelenne, Rom B'kah's loyal warrior." The big man appeared apologetic. "And my good friend."
Her hands tightened on the rung. Gann. She tried to picture him and couldn't, but the name was familiar. Her parents must have contacted Rom for help and he'd chosen Gann for the mission.
"I thank you for telling me. I wouldn't have wanted to be caught unawares."
"I know," the big man said with surprising empathy. "I figured all along that if you'd wanted to go home, you'd have told us who you were."
"You knew who I was? All along?"
He grinned. "It's been seven years, but I never forget a face."
"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell Ian?"
"It was never my destiny to change yours," he replied cryptically. Go, he said with his eyes, and don't let on to a soul what I just told you.
At the top of the gangway a tall, handsome Vash gentleman embraced Ian. They pounded each other on the back and appeared genuinely excited by the reunion.
"Ah. The pampered one returns," said a woman standing behind them. Her eyes were so jaded and cool diat Tee'ah didn't give her the pleasure of a reaction. The lovely dangling silver earrings of the same length as her hair suggested delicacy, but the woman appeared as hard as any ship's trillidium hull.
Ian stepped away from Gann. "Don't tell me you just happened to be in the area."
Gann laughed. "We've been tracking you for weeks, only I had no idea it was your trail we were on. Rom sent me." He shifted his eyes to Tee'ah. If her odd-colored shorn hair shocked him, he did an excellent job of hiding it. His eyes reflected curiosity, but his smile was cordial, revealing his respect of the social distance between them and little of the true man behind it. The palace dwellers had smiled at her like that all her life. She'd thought she'd escaped it. "My mission," he said, "was to find your cousin, Princess Tee'ah. Welcome to the Quillie, honored lady."
"Thank you." She avoided meeting Ian's
eyes.
As a group, they moved into the cockpit. Quin was there, wiping his hands on a rag. "Princess." He made a fist over his barrel chest and bowed.
She sighed through her nose. Never had she thought she'd long for the mechanic's overbearing know-it-all manner.
A chime sounded, indicating an incoming priority message. "Lara, would you get that?" Gann asked the woman with the cold eyes. Interesting, but when she looked at Gann her gaze thawed.
Lara took the call as everyone milled about, exchanging stories of what had happened in the last hellish days. Almost sheepish, Tee'ah and Ian stood next to each other. They'd just tied their hearts to each other in what they'd thought was the hour of their death. Now they'd have to endure the awkwardness of knowing they'd made promises they'd never be able to keep.
"It sounds like we'll be able to continue our mission without much delay," she told him lightly. "At least this time we'll have the whole crew with us."
Ian looked appalled. "You're a Vash Nadah princess."
"So it seems," she agreed dryly.
He lowered his voice to a private tone. "You've been sheltered all your life. You can't work on the Sun Devil anymore."
"So. I'm fired?"
"You'll get yourself killed."
"Please, Ian. As if working for you wasn't dangerous this morning, or in all the weeks before—" She stopped herself, trying desperately to forgive his lack of logic; he was as rattled as she was.
"You don't belong in the frontier." He spread his hands. "You're a princess."
"So, where do good little princesses go, hmm? Home?"
He grabbed her arm and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. Blast it; his warm breath still gave her tingles. "But you can't go home in this… condition."
"You mean independent? Free? Happy? Yes, you're quite right."
"I gave my promise to you. I intend to follow through. We'll… work out the details. After Earth."
She had no doubt that the by-the-books, do-right crown prince would fulfill any promise he'd made out of principle and his driving sense of accountability. But the last thing she'd let herself do was to become another one of Ian's "obligations."
"No," she said sharply under her breath. "I'll not ruin your chances for the throne. You need a marriage chosen by your stepfather. And you have to convince Earth to stay in the Federation. Those are the only ways you'll end the Great Council's doubts about you once and for all."
"A promise is a promise."
"It wasn't binding, Ian."
Either relief or hurt crossed his face. She wasn't sure. But both were equally painful to contemplate. She yanked her arm free, cringing inside. "I want my freedom," she whispered fervently. Marrying her was the honorable choice, and Ian was an honorable man. She'd expected nothing less from him. Only she hadn't expected that her own refusal would hurt so much. Or his rightfully choosing duty over her.
"The message is for the princess," Lara announced. "It's her father." Tee'ah's stomach muscles cramped. The cold-eyed woman pointed to a console at the far end of the cockpit. "If you wish, you can use that chair for privacy."
Tee'ah's throat was so tight, she could hardly breathe, much less talk. "I would," she managed to squeeze out. "Thank you."
Alone at the comm station she opened a view-screen. "Greetings, Father."
Joren Dar's golden eyes reflected both sharp relief and angry disapproval. Tee'ah fought a watery feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Daughter…" It seemed her appearance had momentarily stolen his ability to speak The last time he'd seen her, her hair was coppery dark blond and reached past her hips.
He recovered quickly, unfortunately. "The crew of the Quillie will accompany you home."
She squeezed her clasped hands together until blood throbbed in her fingertips. "I can't come home."
His expression sharpened. "I've… changed," she said and glanced away. She felt an echoing twinge in the part of her anatomy in question.
He slammed his hand down. "Who was it? Who were you with? Ian Hamilton? I thought he was a man of honor! If he thinks this is the way to become the—"
Hastily, she lowered the volume on the view-screen. "He is a man of honor." More than anyone imagined.
"You were with him for weeks without chaperones."
"I was with a number of his crewmembers."
He sputtered in shock.
"Not in that way, father," she put in before he choked to death.
He exhaled. "I am relieved to hear it."
Clearly, he thought she meant that she hadn't been with Ian in "that way," either. She didn't cor-rect him. More than any other prince, Ian needed an unsullied reputation. He'd admit to sleeping with her if he thought it would protect her, but she wouldn't give him that chance. She loved him; she would not ruin him.
"Everything's at stake, Tee'ah. I have no choice but to publicly state that you've undergone the test of purity."
The blood drained from her head. The rite was an ancient, rarely used determination of virginity. Appalled, she stared at her father. If she refused to go through with the test, it would cast doubt on Ian.
"I won't actually have you checked," her father assured her. "That would be too barbaric. But we must go through the motions to appease the Great Council. And the Vedlas."
"Yes, father." Sweet heaven. The Vedla family knew. What would stop Che—or Klark—from demanding that their physicians perform the actual examination?
She touched trembling fingers to the viewscreen.
"Your mother and I miss you," he said finally.
Her throat constricted. "Me, too."
Then the viewscreen went blank. Her mind raced through all the choices spread before her. They were fewer now, but crucial all: Return home for the test and save everyone from scandal? But, in doing so, she'd risk having to take the test itself and have the news of her impure state announced through the Vash Empire. Could she avoid it alto-gether by accepting Ian's promise of marriage? Unfortunately, both of those choices required that she return to the life she'd fled. What she needed was a safe haven away from everyone who had her "best interests" at heart. Earth came to mind, but she'd be so easy to find there.
Exhaustion, both mental and physical, overtook her. Unsteadily, she stood. Ian was waiting as the rest of the two crews pretended to go about their duties. No one had missed their first impassioned, whispered argument, and they were no doubt expecting another.
Ian searched her face, and his own fell. "He wants you to go home," he said.
"Yes."
"Are you?"
"I think it's best right now."
"But it's not what you want."
"Life's that way, it seems," she said crisply.
"Wait there for me. Wait until I'm finished on Earth. We'll put our heads together and figure something out. The way we always do."
"No. I have my duty. And you, sir, have yours."
Her soul wrenched with the look of disbelief that crossed his face. She took a step backward, as if putting distance between them physically would help her do so emotionally.
"You're right," he said after a moment, coldly. "I do."
Her chest was so tight that it hurt. She hurried off before she did something irreparable, like throw herself into his arms.
In the main area of the cockpit she addressed the cold-eyed woman named Lara. "Would you please show me where I might bathe?"
The woman nodded curtly and led her into the corridor. Part of her expected Ian to come after her, to fight for her, to rail at her, refusing to listen to her reasoning why they couldn't be together. But he didn't. Nor did she look back.
It was done.
Chapter Nineteen
"You sure don't look like a princess." Seemingly unaware of the skinny ketta-cat sleeping in her lap, Lara slouched in a chair in her quarters on the Quil-lie as she waited for Tee'ah to finish dressing.
Tee'ah didn't bristle at Lara's brusque, derisive manner. In fact, she preferred it to the careful
courtesy and sympathy now displayed by the rest of the crew. She put on a fresh flightsuit and took a quick peek at her reflection in the mirror as she combed her wet hair off her forehead. In the overhead illumination, red-gold roots glinted. The person she once was, she thought, trying to push free. "To be honest, I don't feel much like a princess anymore." "The men trying to save you don't seem to mind." Tee'ah made a face. "I've never asked anyone to coddle me. But everyone does." She thought of Ian. "As soon as they find out I'm a princess."
"So many heroes willing to help. They'll have you back in your sumptuous palace before you know it. All your beautiful gowns will be waiting, cleaned and pressed."
Tee'ah shuddered at an image of the bedchamber. "My gilded cage. No, thank you."
"I will never understand how people who have luxuries don't appreciate them."
Tee'ah gave her left sleeve a too-sharp yank. "That's because people like you only see what I had, not what I didn't."
"Poor princess. What didn't you have?"
"Freedom." Her voice thickened with bitterness. "All the personal decisions you take for granted were made for me. Everything; relentlessly, every day, since the day I was born and likely before that. I was told how to style my hair, how to walk, how to talk. When my parents found out I was learning to fly—my only true act of rebellion in twenty-three standard years—they forbid me to continue. Even the selection of the man I was to marry was out of my hands." She sighed. "Have you any idea what it's like to have no say in any aspect of your life?"
Clearly taken aback, Lara stared at her and said nothing.
"I don't care how many glittering gowns hang in my closet, I'm not going back to that life. I'm going to Earth, actually." Her safe haven. "They have a non-extradition policy for all races, human and Vashr.
Lara gave her a funny look. "How do you know?"
"I looked it up a short while ago. I wanted to make sure it wouldn't cause any political fallout when I ask for asylum and my family demands my return."
"You're really serious about this."
She gazed out the viewscreen at a panorama of deep, cold, space. "It's not only for me. I can aid Ian in his efforts. I want to. I believe in his cause."