Blood Will Tell

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Blood Will Tell Page 17

by Christine Pope


  Well, it had seemed like a good idea, anyway...

  The school was a private institution that catered to the more elite citizens of Rilsport, Nova Angeles’ largest city. Most of the time Jerem scraped along tolerably well, although the endless rules did tend to chafe. But he had good friends, and he even did pretty well in most of his studies, more to please his mother than because he really cared one way or another whether he got nines and tens or fives and sixes on his report cards. Still, after a while the inevitable boredom would begin to creep in, and he’d start looking for ways to indulge his passion for thrill-seeking.

  A few months earlier the school had invested in a fairly expensive holographic sign-projector that was intended to display information about events such as plays, sporting events, and important dates on the school calendar. His mother had made a few pointed comments about the tackiness of said sign when it went up, so Jerem had figured—maybe wrongly—that she wouldn’t care too much if someone explored some of its more unorthodox possibilities.

  Jerem didn’t possess the programming skills required to alter the sign—but his friend Alic was a whiz with computers of all kinds. And with Founder’s Day coming up, Jerem figured that offered the perfect opportunity to have some fun.

  Wisely, the school officials kept the controls for the sign well-locked inside the main office. But there was a secondary control unit mounted directly behind the sign—which just happened to be located about twenty meters off the ground on the roof of the main administration building.

  Even Jerem might have balked at climbing so far unaided, but there just happened to be a small access ladder at the rear of the building, probably so maintenance staff could get up to the roof to work on the refrigeration units and that sort of thing. The school had anticipated that adventurous students might want to climb the ladder, and so the first three meters had been securely chained off. But that proved to be no problem for Jerem, who had shinnied himself up past the chained-off portion and then climbed the rest of the way on the ladder.

  Once he was on the roof, it was easy enough for him to locate the sign’s control unit, pop open the box that protected it from the elements, and go to work. Alic had sent a preprogrammed tablet along with Jerem, who hooked it up to the control unit and let the two computers start talking to one another.

  All this activity had taken place in the middle of the night. Alic sent the tablet home with Jerem the day before, and Jerem simply sneaked out of his room after Risa put him to bed. If his mother ever discovered that the tree outside his window had branches that were far too obliging in the matter of midnight excursions, she probably would have cut it down or at least trimmed it back, but Jerem had always been careful about being seen. Something about the dark, quiet hours spoke to him, and he’d been regularly escaping the confines of his bedroom and wandering about the streets of Rilsport at night for almost two years now. It had been simple for him to cut across his backyard and through the neighbors’ properties, evading their security cameras with the ease of long practice. From there he slipped down the quiet streets and onto the school property. Rilsport Academy had fairly sophisticated security protecting the building, but not the grounds, and no one noticed the small dark figure that carefully made its way to the roof.

  Although he knew that once his task was complete he should have immediately collected the tablet and run, Jerem lingered for a moment on the rooftop, watching the lights of Rilsport shimmer out across the waters of the harbor. The city had risen up around a huge crescent-shaped bay, and the glitter of the myriad beams cast by aircars, skyscrapers, and street lamps was dazzling even at this late hour. Of course, with Rilsport being as huge as it was, the metropolis never really slept. Sometimes Jerem would wonder what all those people were doing all night, and he’d get dizzy just thinking about all the different lives, each with their own problems and worries and loves and hates. He’d get a weird ache inside him, similar to the way he felt when he watched a particularly involving vid. Maybe it was just the sensation of wanting something more, of beginning to realize just how big the galaxy was and how much it offered, far beyond his safe life on Nova Angeles.

  He’d tried to say as much to his mother once, and she’d gotten an odd look in her eyes, then smiled and gave him a quick hug. “The galaxy will still be there when you’re older,” she’d promised. “I was kind of hoping you might stick around a little while longer.”

  “Well, I’d want you to come with me,” he’d said promptly, and she’d given him another quick hug and sent him out to play.

  Thinking back on the scene, Jerem wondered if those had been the beginning of tears he’d seen in her eyes. He hadn’t stopped to consider it at the time, because he’d followed his mother’s advice and gone off to Mikhal’s house, but that strange expression she’d quickly covered up had almost looked like fear. What she could have been afraid of, he didn’t know, and he’d forgotten about the incident until now.

  But there wasn’t time to worry about it anymore—it was time he got home. Risa had been staying at the house while his mother was gone, and she did have an annoying habit of getting up in the middle of the night and raiding the refrigeration unit in the kitchen. Getting caught now definitely was not part of the plan.

  So he’d slid down the ladder, jumped down once he got to the chained-off portion, and rolled easily into the soft dirt at the bottom. Once he reached the front of the building, he looked up at the results of his handiwork, grinned, then sped off into the night.

  They probably would have gotten away with it—if it weren’t for the fact that by now Dr. Chand and the rest of the administration invariably looked to Jerem whenever a prank like this occurred. Once or twice he’d even been wrongly accused, but luckily those times he’d had alibis, and they couldn’t prove anything.

  This time, however, they’d put pressure on Alic, and he’d confessed everything. Jerem liked Alic, but he did have a tendency to be too much of a goodie-guts. Mikhal was made of sturdier stuff, but since Alic had already squealed, there hadn’t been much point for him to continue protesting his involvement. Anyway, Mikhal had been a co-conspirator, but he hadn’t actually done that much this time around.

  Whereas Jerem—

  “Perhaps your youth can explain some of your ignorance,” Dr. Chand said sternly, his heavy black brows drawing together over his high-bridged nose. Dr. Chand’s frowns could be fearsome—and he used them mercilessly on Jerem. “But did you even stop to think what an effect your little prank might have on some people whose ancestors were survivors of the war?”

  Jerem looked from Dr. Chand to Risa, who frowned at him as well. However, the expression wasn’t nearly as impressive on Risa, since she had wide blue eyes and the sort of mouth that always looked as if it were smiling.

  “Um...” hedged Jerem. Truthfully, he really hadn’t thought about it. He’d just thought it would be funny. Besides, the patriotic fervor on Nova Angeles about Founder’s Day always seemed a little silly to Jerem, considering that Nova Angeles had been forcibly annexed by the GDF. Or at least that’s what he had gleaned from the history texts they made him study, even though said texts tried to make it sound as if the transfer of power had been welcomed by the planet’s original settlers. But he knew he’d better try to look contrite, or they’d keep talking at him for hours. “Um, no, sir,” he continued. “I guess we didn’t.”

  “I thought so,” said Dr. Chand, looking pleased with himself. “Consider this a valuable lesson, Jerem—just because you might think something is amusing doesn’t mean that other people necessarily share your opinion.”

  “Yes, sir,” Jerem said, looking down at his boots and wondering how much longer this would go on. He’d rather just go home and get started on his punishment right away. Maybe they could get it over with before his mother even got back.

  Dr. Chand watched him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowed. Jerem tried to stare back as guilelessly as possible. If the principal sniffed out the slightest hint of insinc
erity, he’d keep at Jerem without mercy.

  But apparently he was satisfied with Jerem’s air of contrition, for after a moment Dr. Chand looked over at Risa and said, “You can take him home now. But he has early detention the rest of this week. And I will need to speak to his mother when she returns.”

  “Yes, Dr. Chand,” Risa said wearily. Jerem knew that his mother hated morning detention because it meant she had to get Jerem ready and out of the house that much earlier, and he imagined Risa didn’t like the idea any better.

  She hustled him out of the principal’s office and down to the waiting aircar, scolding him the whole time. Jerem tuned out most of her complaints, and then paused for a second while she opened the door to the car. As he stared up at the gleaming white façade of the administration building, he got a sudden image of it the way it had looked the night before, with the words “Free Nova Angeles!” shimmering in a bright acid green that could be seen for miles. Jerem and Mikhal had argued over whether it should say “Nova Angeles for the Natives” or “Free Nova Angeles!” but decided on the latter simply because it was shorter and so, as Alic had pointed out, they could use a bigger font. They hadn’t actually believed it, after all.

  Grown-ups get bent about the weirdest things, he thought, as Risa whipped the car up into the traffic lanes above the school and merged with the other vehicles at a not entirely safe speed. Her smiling mouth was pressed to a thin line. But at least the stream of reprimands had stopped—for now. Jerem had no doubt they would start up again once they were home.

  Well, even if it meant no vids for a week and early detention, it still had been worth it. He grinned suddenly, although he made sure to keep his gaze studiously in his lap as he did so. After all, no matter what Risa might think, he was still getting off a lot easier than he would have if his mother had been home.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Miala protested, watching helplessly as the huge sandy-yellow disk of Iradia fell away somewhere off to starboard.

  Thorn didn’t turn to look at her. His hands moved expertly over the controls of the Fury, maneuvering them with ever-increasing speed away from her home world.

  “I think I do,” he replied. “Only way to make sure you get home safe.”

  She wanted to snap back at him, but realized that not only would he ignore her anyway, but it was somewhat rude to be abusing the man who just saved her from certain death—or worse. Lips clamped shut, she stared out the viewport, watching the starry pinpoints outside blur into washes of non-color as they entered subspace.

  “Besides,” he added, reaching up to unwrap the fabric from around his head, “I’ll need to collect some of that cash you’ve been holding for me all these years, since I doubt Murgan’s going to pay off my commission any time soon.”

  In silence Miala watched as he finally revealed the face she had dreamed about, wondered about, for the past eight years. He did not look much different. The lines were cut more deeply into the skin around his eyes and mouth, and she thought she could see the first faint traces of gray brushing the dark hair at his temples, but otherwise he was very much the same man she remembered from all those years ago.

  Something inside her seemed to turn over. She held her breath, willing the hurt away. It was so much easier when I couldn’t see his face.

  “You still have it, don’t you?” he asked.

  What? Miala thought. Oh, of course. The money.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” she retorted, forcing herself to look at him. “All of it, plus interest. Which is quite a lot after eight years.”

  A look of amusement came and went in those dark eyes. “So I’m rich now?”

  “Something like that.” Indeed, it had surprised her how quickly money could accumulate when it kept earning interest and the principal remained untouched. She had had to dip into her own part of the treasure when she was first starting out, but over the years she had gradually replaced what had been spent, and built on it as her business grew. Even by Nova Angeles standards she was considered a rich woman. Never again for her the gnawing worry of whether there would be enough money to buy food or pay off the landlord for yet another month.

  “How much?”

  “A little over ten million units,” she replied. At least, that had been the balance as of the last statement she’d received. It might have compounded again since then.

  She’d known he wouldn’t react much, even to such a huge sum, but he did lift an eyebrow slightly. “Guess I am rich.”

  And now he seemed bound and determined to return her to Nova Angeles. Miala had known this day might come, but now, confronted as she was with the reality of Thorn soon landing on her adopted home world, she could feel panic begin to well up inside her. Not now—it’s too soon, she thought. Even though she had at times longed for Thorn to know his son, she knew she was a fool if she didn’t fear his anger...at least a little.

  But perhaps she could delay him a bit. “Your money’s not even on Nova Angeles,” she pointed out. “It’s in a numbered account on New Chicago. I thought that might be safer. It would make more sense to go there first.”

  “Do you have to be there in person to withdraw it?”

  Well, he had her there. She’d set up the account so she could access it remotely if need be. Miala had tried to plan for every contingency, and she hadn’t wanted to risk his wrath by making the money too inaccessible. She wondered if she should mention the waiting period to withdraw the funds if she did it remotely, caught a glimpse of the grim set of Thorn’s mouth, and decided he probably didn’t want to hear any more excuses.

  Her silence seemed to be the only answer he required. “Right,” he said after a slight pause. “We’ll be at Nova Angeles in about ten standard hours.”

  So fast? she thought miserably. Of course, that second-rate passenger liner she had taken to Iradia would be much slower than Thorn’s hyper-modified private ship.

  “Lie down for a while,” Thorn added, not unkindly. “You look like you could use it.”

  As much as she hated to admit it, Miala knew he was right. Even now her legs felt shaky with fatigue, and one of her knees was throbbing where she had skinned it when she fell to the ground in the courtyard of Mast’s compound. Besides, the less time she spent in his presence, the less chance she had of betraying herself somehow.

  So she nodded and took herself back to the small, cramped bathroom, where she cleaned up her dirt-smudged face as best she could, then pulled a hairbrush from her satchel and pulled her hair back into a sleek, tight braid. The satchel only contained a few necessary items such as the brush and an extra tooth scrubber, both of which made her feel a little better but couldn’t do much to help with her torn and stained clothing. After ineffectually brushing at the worst of the dirt, Miala gave up in disgust and went off to the ship’s one small passenger compartment.

  That, too didn’t seem to have changed much over the past eight years, although she thought the dingy blanket on the narrow bed used to be blue, and this one was dark green. No matter; she arranged the lumpy pillow under her head as comfortably as she could and lay back, trying to ignore the familiar scent of Thorn that seemed to permeate the pillow and the bedclothes. It wasn’t a bad smell, just a peculiarly masculine scent of clean sweat and some other indefinable aroma that reminded her partly of leather and partly the crisp taste of metal.

  How she’d tried to forget that over the years, that and the way his mouth had felt on hers, and the way his freshly shaved cheeks had rubbed against her smooth skin. Why was it that every other man’s touch had felt wrong after his?

  Oh, she’d tried. Even with a child whose father she wouldn’t name, Miala had been the object of more than one pursuit. They’d been handsome young men, much closer to her own age and far more suitable, and she’d been completely bored by every last one of them. Even so she’d kissed several of them, and once or twice let things progress even further than that, but she’d never been able to bring herself to consummate the relationships. Each
time she’d abruptly broken things off, and Miala supposed she had gotten quite a reputation as a tease through a certain segment of the young male population in Rilsport. It certainly hadn’t been intentional—each time she’d thought things would be different, and each time she’d proven herself wrong. And so, by the time Jerem was five, she’d given up on men completely. If it was her fate to be alone the rest of her life, so be it. Better that than the continued awkwardness of trying to pretend a relationship was something it wasn’t.

  Once she’d even looked up Captain Malick, the young officer who had commanded the garrison at Aldis Nova. He had shown her kindness, and she had been dealing with a troublesome two-year-old and fighting a loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her at times. It had been more difficult than she thought to make friends on Nova Angeles, whose populace had a tendency toward coolness for outsiders. And she, aching for someone, especially someone who could provide a connection—however tenuous—to her old life on Iradia, had seized on the thought of finding Captain Malick.

  It hadn’t been as difficult as she had thought. Money bought all sorts of things, including skilled investigators. Miala soon had a comm address, and discovered that, after serving a second four-year stint, he had resigned his commission and returned to a quiet civilian life. It hadn’t taken too much persuasion for him to come visit her on Nova Angeles.

  Oh, how she’d wanted to love him. He’d been so happy to hear from her, even though at first he was wary, wondering why she would be seeking to contact him after so much time had passed. He hadn’t asked awkward questions about Jerem, and the little boy clearly grew attached to him quickly. They had all spent several idyllic weeks together on Nova Angeles over the summer break from school, and Miala had almost convinced herself that she was making the right choice—Gerald clearly adored her and had dropped a few hints that he would be more than happy to join her here on Nova Angeles permanently.

 

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