“The doctor says you can come in.”
“Thank you,” Soma said, then to his link, “Well, gotta go, Lieutenant. Thanks for the info.”
“Not a problem.”
“You know, you’re not so bad for an APC kank.”
Riza laughed, shot Soma an explicit gesture and cut the connection. Soma smiled. He stood, dropped his link into his pocket, then followed the nurse. Twice on his way to the room he had to step aside for a gurney or a dead-eyed nurse to push a cart by. With the initial assault plus the various skirmishes culminating on the attack on his unit at the palace courtyard, the hospital was busy to say the least.
The nurse paused long enough to point him to a room and then hurried off herself.
Soma took a deep breath, took his hat off and went through the necessary mental preparations. He had visited comrades who were severely wounded before. He needed to be ready for the worst.
Soma stepped into the room and, to his shock, found Doff sitting up in bed. His head wasn’t covered in bandages. His eyes didn’t have the glazed look of a man doused with painkillers. The only sign of his wound was a sinuous line going down the side of his face, dotted with stitches.
Doff noticed him through the mob of doctors. “Sarge!”
Soma couldn’t keep the surprise from his face. “Doff?” He stepped towards the man who had, only a few hours ago, been shot in the head so hard it exploded his helmet. The doctors made room for him.
“What? You don’t recognize me?”
“I can’t believe it.” Soma looked at the doctors.
A bald man with wrinkles about his eyes nodded. “Indeed, his condition is a surprise to us all.”
“What the void is wrong, Sergeant?” Doff’s expression was almost comically offended.
“Nothing’s wrong, Doff. I don’t know how to say this but when I came in here I didn’t expect to see your face intact.”
“You’re telling me, Sarge,” Doff said. A shadow passed over his otherwise jubilant expression. He looked like he was going to say something, then he shook his head.
“So what happened?” Soma asked the bald doctor.
“Private Doff arrived with what looked like serious burns and blood on his face but was not bleeding. After cleaning his face, we found only this minor wound. We were prepared for a much more extensive injury based upon the initial reports but once we got him cleaned up we found what looked like an old wound that had been reopened.”
Soma turned to Doff. “Had you ever been wounded in the head before.”
Doff shrugged and shook his head.
“He looks okay to discharge.”
The doctor nodded. “Yes. We’d like to keep him for observation for the next twenty-four hours.”
Soma nodded. “Okay.”
The doctors and nurses filed out and the last one out shut the door.
“Sarge?”
Soma took a seat in the chair nearby. “Yeah.”
“I gotta tell you something.”
Soma nodded. “Go ahead.”
“I was...I didn’t want to tell the doctors. I don’t want this on the record.”
“It’s just between you and me, Doff.”
Doff shook his head, broke eye contact. His eyes were seeing something else. “Man, when that shot hit me I thought I was done. You know for a second, I figured I was dead, and my consciousness was waiting for my brain to shut down. Then the pain hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t see. All I heard was gunfire all around me and you guys yelling and the sound of my own screaming.”
Doff’s eyes went glassy. He blinked at the wetness. “And then I felt someone take my hand. It was her.”
Soma felt himself leaning in. He nodded. “The second you fell, she rushed to your side.”
“I heard her talking, but not to me, calling out to someone she called ‘Master.’ As she spoke the pain disappeared. I felt something like heat on my face, as if heavy clouds had parted and the sun was shining down on me. I passed out at some point. I think Gora must have hit me with one of those tranqs. When I woke up here the doctors told me I was fine. Handed me a mirror...”
Soma nodded. “I picked your helmet up off the ground. It was blown apart. Whoever shot you hit the right spot.”
“Yeah,” Doff said. He cleared his throat. “Then I remembered what she said to me on the gunship. She said, ‘you’re going to be okay.’ She said, ‘you will see your wife and children again.’” Doff shook his head. “See. When I was on the ground out there after I got hit I couldn’t see. I knew my eyes were destroyed. I mean, how did she...?”
Soma waited. The hustle and murmur of activity outside continued. No one disturbed them.
Doff’s eyes refocused and he looked at Soma. “Is it true what Axelin said about her?” Soma shook his head. “About her calling you two by name?”
Soma nodded. “Yeah, it’s true.”
“How does somebody...what do you call that? I mean the Scions boast that some in their order can do similar things, but you never see it. I saw her. I’m alive because of her.”
“Listen, Sarge,” Doff said. “I know this girl is supposed to be bad news, but I don’t understand how the Alliance could say what they do about her. I mean, what is going on here?”
Soma sighed, shook his head. “I don’t know, Doff, but I’m going to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Six:
The Life I Now Live
Ganyasu sat in a private shuttle car as it zoomed into Lodebar’s central transit hub. He pulled at the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. Then he adjusted the height of the belt of his pants again and sighed. He’d borrowed these clothes from Dothin and as such they felt wrong in every way. Too much space in the middle, not enough in the shoulders. The pants were too short so Gan kept looking for a spot between them being comfortable at his waist but exposing his ankles almost up to his calves, and comfortable at his feet but so low on his hips they felt like they might drop.
Nix glowered up at him and not for the first time. “Would you stop squirming? You look fine.”
“I feel like a gorilla in a child’s clothes.”
Dothin chuckled. “Sorry about that. Even if I had kept some of my old clothes from my more active days you probably wouldn’t fit well in them either.”
“Why doesn’t he take them off and go invisible?” Ashla sat as far from Gan as possible in the cabin, always putting Dothin and Nix between her and Gan whenever possible. As she spoke she tapped at her link. Gan noticed the ‘he.’ She had yet to address him personally, but only discussed him in the third person, perhaps as another way to separate herself from him.
Since hearing the story of her attempted assassination Gan wondered which of his former brothers had made the attempt. He hadn’t dared ask her. Not like she would know anyway, in their smartskins and masks all Shaumri were almost identical.
“Active camouflage drains a lot of power,” Nix explained. “It might not be a big deal in the short run, but it will if we have to make a quick escape.”
Dothin peered down at what Ashla was doing on her link. “What is that?”
Ashla hid the screen and looked up at them. When she looked at Dothin she relaxed. “I’m looking at how much money I have.” When Dothin gave her a curious frown she added, “This ship won’t run on the power of friendship. They’re going to want to get paid to take passengers out, and probably a lot. We should find out how much we have altogether, so we know what we’re working with.”
“You don’t have to worry about paying,” Gan said. “Not extravagantly at least.”
Dothin and Nix turned their curiosity at him. Ashla shot him a baleful glance. her eyes still betrayed fear, but this girl was used to using fear as fuel for anger.
“Why? Are you rich off all the people you...” She stopped when Dothin put a hand on her shoulder.
Gan swallowed his consternation. “As I said, I have not engaged in my former profession for almost a year now. To be honest, I onl
y have a little money. But when we are finished, this captain will not charge us much.”
“Why?” Ashla asked.
Gan smiled. “Because I have something far more valuable.”
“Is that a murder joke?”
“For the last time...” Gan controlled himself. He redirected. “Do you need to be changed?”
Ashla scoffed. “What?”
“Do you need to be changed? Or perhaps you are cranky because you are hungry. Do you want a bottle of milk?”
“You’d better—”
“You do not like being treated like an infant,” Gan said over her, “because you are not an infant. You once were and when you were a baby you needed to be changed and fed. But you have grown, matured, yes?”
Ashla’s only response was a curious glare.
“I have changed as well. Yes, I was once...one of them, but I am no longer that man. I have changed. I have matured. And I too do not like to be treated as if I were my former self.”
“So you think by doing some good you can make up for what you’ve done wrong?”
“No.” Gan swallowed. “Nothing I do will ever make up for the life I once lived. But what it can do is bear witness to my hope for redemption.”
Ashla frowned but did not respond. She didn’t seem to accept what he said, but she didn’t have an argument at the moment.
“Is that what she taught you?” Nix asked.
Gan nodded. “That and more.”
The shuttle slowed and landed in the transit hub. The four of them stood and disembarked. Gan spotted a pair of Alliance marines patrolling the gardens near the landing. They cast glances at the group as they left the shuttle. Gan kept his face smooth and led the group past the gardens and down the stairs leading to the lower terrace.
“So where are we meeting this guy?” Nix asked.
“Private room in a restaurant called the Dalphene.”
Dothin whistled. Gan turned and looked at him.
Dothin shrugged. “Fella must have expensive taste.”
“Have you been there?” asked Nix.
“Just once. When I sold my first big piece, I took my work buddies there to celebrate, and some of their wives too. As a dockworker it cost me a month’s wage. Food was good though.”
“Did Ms. Pattie go too?”
“Yep.” Dothin chuckled. “That’s where she found her love of escargot.”
“Es-car-what?”
“Snails,” Ashla chipped in.
“Ew,” Nix said.
“They’re good,” Ashla said, smiling.
Gan led them down the terrace stairs until they came to the Dalphene. They passed tourists sitting at cast-iron tables and waiters holding trays full of covered dishes. Talk was quiet and brooding.
“I can’t believe they cancelled our flight and didn’t bother to reimburse us for the trouble.”
“The Ministry of Defense will be held accountable for this.”
“I’ll sue.”
Gan doubted anyone eating at a place like this was hurt by the blockade. He was more concerned for the hundreds of everyday travelers who didn’t have the excess funds to live it up for days or weeks while the Alliance Navy took the station apart looking for him. Gan only hoped their lives would return to normal once he was gone.
“Now remember kids,” Dothin whispered. “Let Gan do the talking. He’s got experience in this sort of thing.”
“Okay,” Nix said.
“Fine,” Ashla said.
Then Dothin whispered to Gan, “You have done this before, right?”
Gan shook his head.
“Oh.”
Gan pushed through the doors of the restaurant and ignored another urge to adjust his belt. A friendly looking woman in black smiled at him, failing to hide a nervous stare. Gan’s little troupe didn’t look quite the type for a classy restaurant like this.
“Table for four, sir?”
“We’re meeting someone,” Gan said. “Name of Kol.”
The woman in black opened the door and gestured for Gan to go inside. Gan entered and found himself in a large, round room with a domed ceiling. At its center was a round table trying to be granite surrounded by not-wooden chairs. The walls were all textured like stucco and lined with abstract, holographic art.
At the table sat a trio of two men and a woman. The man in the center was the captain Gan had messaged with. He alone looked like he belonged in a place like this with his meticulous hair and designer clothes. The younger man to his right was the opposite: shaven head, worn gray trench coat and reflective shades over his eyes, not to mention his big, black boots crossed on the table. The woman was remarkably attractive with long, curly hair, full, red lips and bright eyes.
Gan walked up to the table and selected the seat opposite the trio. Dothin pulled out a chair for Ashla then sat down himself to Gan’s left. Nix sat on Gan’s right. The door shut behind them.
The man in the middle tapped the younger in the shoulder and the young man lifted his boots off the table and sat straight. The woman sized Gan and his friends up, focusing on him.
“Thank you for—” Gan said but the younger man lifted a finger. He pulled a link out of the breast pocket of his coat, tapped at it for a moment and then set it down on the table before him.
“Pardon,” the man in the middle said, pointing at the link. “Just a simple program to keep people from eavesdropping on our conversation.”
“I appreciate your caution,” Gan said.
“Then let me introduce myself. My name is Salazar Kol. I am the Captain of the free ship Jessamine. This is my protégé Vance Gosen and my first mate Sabella Nandine.”
Vance gave a lazy wave and Sabella nodded.
“My name,” Gan said, “is Ganyasu Naboris. This is Dothin Lanseidis, his ward Nix, and this is—”
“The missing Ashla Vares,” Salazar finished for him. He rubbed his chin as he peered at Ashla. “Very interesting.”
Ashla seemed to shrink from Salazar’s gaze, then something changed in her eyes and she only gazed back at him in defiance.
“As you know we are seeking passage out of Lodebar Station,” Gan said.
“I understand why,” Salazar said. “The missing heiress is a hot commodity in this system.”
“Yes. And obviously, I would appreciate discretion whether we meet an agreement today or not.”
“That goes without saying,” Salazar agreed. He seemed sincere. Most illegitimate members of the space lanes pretended to have a code of honor. Whether Captain Kol was one of these or not, Gan couldn’t tell. “Well then, let’s get down to business. Do you have a destination in mind?”
“Ultimately, no, but for now we want to get out of the system. Perhaps Juna or the Makilor System.”
Kol gave a sideways nod. “What’s the cargo?”
Gan spread his hands out. “Us four and some light luggage.”
“And an F-Scale ship,” Ashla added. She looked at Gan. “I’m not leaving without my ship.”
“F-Scale, huh?” Kol asked.
Ashla nodded.
“You have the specifications?”
Ashla pulled her link, swiped a few times, then slid it across the table. Captain Kol caught it and read. “Very interesting.” He handed it to the woman. She read it, looked at Kol, handed the link back and nodded. He slid it back across the table and Ashla pocketed it.
Kol sat back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “We have room for such a ship but now we’re discussing some serious cargo.”
“And, this is an exclusive trip,” Gan said.
The young man to Kol’s right, Gosen, chuckled. “Oh, is it?”
Gan nodded.
“Okay,” Kol said. He started doing calculations on his own link. “Four passengers, an F-Scale ship, going to, let’s say Juna for the sake of argument,” then to the woman, Nandine, “how far to Juna?”
“Four point seven parsecs,” she said, reciting from memory.
“Which amounts t
o about fifteen hours of travel. Add in docking and jetway fees and you get...” as he spoke, Kol tapped calculations on his own link. Then he slid it across the table at Gan. Gan picked it up, read it. As he did he commanded his smartskin to infiltrate the link and make duplicates of all its files and communication records.
Nix looked at it and read it aloud. “Three hundred and fifty-five thousand? Credits?”
Gan looked at Kol. The Captain shrugged and gave a crooked smirk. “We can leave as soon as the Alliance lifts the blockade on the station and I receive at least fifty percent of the total, all in CAS authorized scrip, mind, none of that weird outworld currency based on seashells or what not. Agreed?”
Nix looked ready to protest but Gan silenced him with a look.
Gan smiled at the Captain. He tapped the ‘C’ button on the link’s calculator app and the total turned into a zero. Then he slid the link back.
Salazar looked at it, frowned, and stuffed the link back in his pocket. “I suppose not.”
“On the contrary,” Gan said. “That was the beginning of my counter offer.”
Kol narrowed his eyes, gave Gan a searching gaze. “Okay. You’ve got something else worth my price?”
“I do.”
Kol turned to Gosen, then to Nandine. The looks they gave each other carried that unspoken language only long-time friends could share. Kol then turned to Gan. “Okay. Slack.”
“In return for you transporting us four, our luggage and the girl’s ship I will get you clearance to leave today.”
The Captain did an excellent job of hiding his shock, but Gan still caught it. The only sign was the little twitch in the Captain’s left eye, nothing more. His crew responded differently. Gosen uttered a wry laugh, leaned back and put his boots back on the table. Nandine narrowed her eyes and shot a look at her Captain. That too was so fast it was almost unnoticed, almost.
“What makes you think I want to leave so bad that its worth giving a free ride for which I could otherwise charge a very lucrative sum?”
“Captain.” Gan put both hands on the table and leaned in. “Let us be frank. Whoever or whatever the Alliance is searching for here, it isn’t you.”
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