“Yes,” Leonidas said, pointing toward the deck behind the exam table.
Stanislav lay on a blanket stretched out beside it. He also had some monitors attached to him. His eyes were open slightly, but they were glassy, and he looked like he could fall asleep—or fall unconscious—at any second. His hands were folded on his abdomen with something that looked like a black stone under them. It was not the chain of beads.
“He doesn’t look like much trouble now,” Alisa said.
“I thought that when I first picked him up in the meadow. And then he did… much.”
“Yeah.”
“He says he’s keeping the Alliance busy elsewhere.”
“Good.”
Alisa took a step toward the hatchway but paused. “After we deal with the staff thieves,” she said, deciding to believe that they could deal with them, “what do you want to do with the Tiangs and the soldiers? Drop them off somewhere and hope the Alliance will be so happy to get them back that they don’t blow us out of the sky? Or should we try again to convince Admiral Tiang that we’re—you’re—worth helping?”
Leonidas smiled sadly. “That was never going to happen. It’s why there was a kidnapping scheme in the first place.” The smile faded, leaving only the sadness. “Which I regret mentioning to you. If we hadn’t gone after them, the Alliance might not be chasing us now.”
We. As if he’d had anything to do with her spur-of-the-moment choice.
“Nonsense,” she said, forcing a smile. “The Alliance started chasing us as soon as we got to orbit. They can’t help themselves. We’re highly desirable.”
Alejandro walked out, barely looking at them as he yawned, scratched an armpit, and headed to the lav.
“Some of us more so than others,” Alisa said.
Leonidas removed one of his gauntlets and rested his hand on the side of her head, his thumb touching her cheek. He gazed at her, his eyebrows drawing together slightly.
“Are you trying to puzzle out what motivates me to make crazy choices?” Alisa asked. “Or is that more of a pitying look?”
“I may be starting to understand why the Alliance won. All it takes is a few people with the mindless passion to pursue their goals at all costs to completely upset the logic-driven plans that the rest of us make.”
“You called me mindless, but I’m going to let it pass because you’re rubbing my neck.”
His expression softened, less puzzled and more appreciative. “I feel fortunate to be one of your passions.”
“Good,” she said, her throat tightening. “Because you are.”
She wrapped her arms around him, wishing more of him were unarmored. She wanted to press her cheek against a warm shoulder, not a hard case.
“I will, however, be devastated if you get yourself killed on my behalf,” he murmured, dropping his face to the top of her head.
“Then I better live. You’ve been devastated enough.” She patted his chest and, reminded that the autopilot would need checking soon, headed into sickbay.
Neither of the reposing men looked up, and she wondered if she had missed her window for talking to Stanislav.
The tall, lanky Ostberg turned toward her, nearly knocking a monitor off the counter with one of his elbows. “Do I need to feed the chickens again?”
“What?” she asked.
“Every time the adults want to talk privately, they send me to feed the chickens. They’re starting to get chubby.”
“Ah. Maybe you could exercise them then,” Alisa said, though she did not know if she wanted to be alone with Stanislav. At least Leonidas was standing in the corridor.
“Exercise them?” Ostberg scratched his head.
An image popped into her mind, and she wasn’t sure if he had provided it, or if she had conjured it on her own. In it, the chickens were free of the coop, being led through an obstacle course on leashes. Ostberg looked puzzled.
“Or you could play games in the rec room.”
“Those are old games.”
“They’re classics.”
He wrinkled his nose.
“It’s your choice. Classic holo games or chickens on a leash.”
Stanislav’s eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head toward them.
“Yes, Captain,” Ostberg said, bowing slightly and walking out. Even he looked tired, having lost some of his chipper enthusiasm.
Alisa unbolted one of the chairs from the wall, set it near Stanislav’s head, and sat down. “I understand you want to talk to me?”
“You need to wait until I’ve recovered to confront Tymoteusz,” he whispered, his voice so soft she had to lean down to hear him.
The sun gods knew she wouldn’t mind a good night’s sleep. She didn’t even feel up to confronting the dust bunnies under the console in NavCom right now, much less a criminal Starseer with an overpowered staff.
“I thought we didn’t have much time before he does dastardly deeds,” Alisa said.
“We don’t.” Stanislav exhaled slowly, his eyes closing again.
For a minute, Alisa thought that would be the end of the conversation. If so, maybe she could go back out and have Leonidas fondle her neck some more.
“I had to use all of my power to facilitate our escape,” Stanislav said. “If I hadn’t already fought with Tym, it wouldn’t have been so grueling, but…” His head turned toward her again, his eyes opening, gazing into hers. “You have her face, her freckles, and definitely her mouth.”
“Her mouth, as in its shape or as in the sarcasm that comes out of it?”
“Yes.” He smiled faintly. “Oksana had an edge, but she reserved it for those who irked her.”
“So do I.”
“Ah.” After a contemplative pause, Stanislav added, “I didn’t know you existed. Not until I saw this ship on Cleon Moon. Even then, I assumed someone else had purchased it. I’d heard Oksana passed away several years ago.”
“Yeah.” What else was she supposed to say? She didn’t want to commiserate over her mother’s death with a stranger. The fact that he was implying that he was her father didn’t make him less strange. She eyed his robe, the red-moon pendant dangling to one side of his neck, and the rock clutched in his hands.
“I saw your face in the cyborg’s thoughts as we battled on Cleon Moon. You look so similar to her, to how she was when I met her…” He must have noticed her looking at his rock, because he said, “It’s a healing accentuator. A tool, like a staff. I made it.”
“Congratulations. Want to explain why you stole the Staff of Lore from my cargo hold? And why you’re helping us now instead of being rather pissed that Leonidas flattened your slimy comrade during that theft?”
“It’s—”
“Let me guess. A long story?”
“Yes.” Stanislav closed his eyes again, weariness oozing from his body.
Alisa pushed aside an inclination to feel sympathetic. Yes, he had helped them, but he was using her and her ship because he needed a ride. He couldn’t be trusted. Even now, he might be plotting ways to get the staff back from Tymoteusz, so he could have it again.
“When I met your mother,” he said softly, as if lost in memory, “she thought I was awkward and bumbling. And I was. I was younger than she, and I’d grown up in a very small, very rural town where everyone was a Starseer. There was never a need to explain yourself to anyone, since everyone understood you implicitly. Occasionally, mundane visitors came to buy the services of our healers, and I was curious about them, but I never knew how to interact with them.”
He spoke so softly, so wearily, that Alisa had to bend down to make out the words.
“Even though they were an enigma to me,” he continued, “the places they had come from sounded interesting, and I’d long dreamed of leaving home. When we were younger, Tym was my tormentor. I ran away into the desert often to escape him, and longed to go to the stars one day. When he turned seventeen and stormed off in a huff because our parents wouldn’t let him pursue the studies he was trul
y interested in, my life improved, but I never forgot my dreams of exploring the system. Also, I didn’t want to be the healer the elders thought I should be. I had an aptitude for it, but I enjoyed creating things—tools such as the ones you’ve seen me use.” He lifted his hand, revealing more of the smooth black stone. “I also knew from my interactions with the visitors that regular humans feared Starseers. I thought I could use my powers to help people and change their perceptions of us. But events never unfolded according to my plans. I was too awkward at explaining myself and my intentions when people questioned me. I did help many people, but they didn’t always want my help.” He looked at her again. “Your mother… she wasn’t afraid of Starseers. Or me. I don’t think she was afraid of anyone. She called me a bumbling dolt with a soft heart that someone would stomp on one day.”
Alisa did not know what to make of his openness. They had just met, and he was telling her the story of his life?
“I don’t know why she didn’t tell me about you,” Stanislav said, “but we’d separated after… The empire was after me, did you know? I’d been trying to help at the Kincaid Station bombing. But people pointed me out, blamed me for the attack. I was healing people. I wasn’t… It doesn’t matter now. It was more than thirty years ago. But I left her after that. I didn’t want her to get into trouble for my foolish idealism.”
He paused long enough that Alisa thought he had fallen asleep. She reached for a comm button, intending to check on Yumi, but he continued on as if he hadn’t stopped.
“She may have had trouble finding me after that. I suppose it could have been my fault. I was disillusioned and dispirited, and I didn’t want to return to my home for the same reason I couldn’t associate with the Starseer leaders any longer. I was a failure, and I’d perpetuated the mainstream beliefs about our people instead of fixing them. I went into a hermit’s life for a long time, out on a border moon. I think most of our people believed I’d died at Kincaid Station. I made tools and taught a few Starseers who sought me out. It was sometimes a lonely life. When my brother sought me out, I was actually relieved. At first.”
The comm beeped, and Alisa jumped.
“Yes?” she answered.
“I may have pinpointed the staff, Captain,” Yumi said.
“I’ll be right there.” Alisa stood up.
Even though Stanislav’s story sounded like it might be meandering toward an explanation of how he had come to join the chasadski and steal the Staff of Lore, she needed to check on the autopilot, as well as Yumi.
“I have to go,” she told Stanislav.
“Don’t confront him yet,” Stanislav whispered. “I need… give me twenty-four hours. I’m not as young as I used to be, but I’ll recover enough by then. Then maybe we’ll have a chance, if we can surprise them.”
“I’ll see what my crew thinks,” Alisa said, heading for the hatchway.
“He’s stronger than I am, Alisa,” Stanislav said, his voice still weak. She barely heard the words. “He came for me because of my expertise with artifacts, not because he needed me.”
Alisa hoped they could avoid confronting this Tymoteusz altogether. Maybe they could drop a bomb on his head and pick up the staff later.
“I don’t think you need to guard him,” she told Leonidas in the corridor. Alejandro had returned from his lav trip and was talking quietly with him.
“He’s won your trust?” Leonidas asked.
“No, but he looks pitiful and tired.”
“Don’t we all?”
“You look fierce and deadly, as usual.”
Leonidas lifted his chin, apparently taking that as a compliment.
“He had broken bones and numerous internal injuries,” Alejandro said. “I wrapped his ribs and programmed nanobots to repair the bones, but it will be a few days before he should move about.”
“What about Durant?”
“Time will tell.”
Time. Alisa wished she knew how much they had of it.
She tapped her comm on the way to NavCom. “Mica? I’d like to know if you can make some weapons that would flummox a Starseer. Or blow him to bits.”
“I can always make explosives,” Mica said. “I don’t know how flummoxing they are.”
“See how creative you can be.”
In NavCom, Yumi had set a netdisc on the console beside Alisa’s seat. A three-dimensional map showed greenery and volcanoes, extinct and active. A red blip flashed at the top of one of the volcanoes. Or was that inside of it?
“I believe the staff is there,” Yumi said. “It’s emitting an energy signature, one that matches what we have on record.”
Alisa slid into her seat to adjust their course.
“There’s another familiar energy signature there,” Yumi said, glancing at Abelardus.
He still sat in the co-pilot’s seat, frowning at the holomap. There was no sign of his earlier flippancy.
“What is it?” Alisa asked, thinking of the Alliance ships.
“The Starseer temple.”
“It’s there?” Alisa pointed at the volcano. If so, Stanislav had been right about the staff thieves going to visit it, but why of all the spots on Arkadius would the Starseers have parked it in a volcano?
“It makes sense that they would have chosen the Belt of Fire,” Yumi said. “The constant volcanic activity and smoke over the area could thwart people searching for them.”
“How come you weren’t thwarted?”
“Abelardus helped me.”
“Not sure that quite answers my question.” Alisa looked at the sensor panel. “Still no sign of the Alliance ships?”
With the state Stanislav was in now, she couldn’t believe he was keeping them away.
“No,” Yumi said.
“It’s possible a greater problem has come up for them to deal with,” Abelardus said.
“Like what?” Alisa asked warily.
“We’re only guessing, but the energy reading from the staff increased a few minutes ago,” Yumi said. “That’s what allowed us to finally find it.”
“He may be planning to use it again,” Abelardus said.
“And the Starseers in the temple—your people—are going along with that? Or have the chasadski imprisoned them somehow? Is this Tymoteusz making more threats to the government? Or is he demanding something, and if so, what?” Alisa growled and leaned back in her chair. “I wish I knew what was going on from the Alliance perspective.”
She tapped her fingers on the console. Tomich had said not to comm him again, but he might know what was happening. Would he tell her? Should she tell him the location of the staff and the temple? The last thing she wanted was the Alliance showing up to try and arrest—or kill—her people again. But how could her team possibly deal with Tymoteusz and a temple full of Starseers on their own? What if Yumi’s sister and mother had left or been… disposed of somehow, and the Starseers left in the temple were loyal to the chasadski? She couldn’t even guess how many powerful people they would be facing.
Alisa groaned and dropped her face in her hands.
“I see you’re looking forward to confronting him,” Abelardus said.
“This isn’t my war. Why am I in this war? Why am I not out in space, teaching my daughter to fly while we deliver fun cargos that can’t threaten the system in any way?”
“What constitutes a fun cargo?”
“We hauled maple syrup once. I got to lick one of the bottles that cracked.”
“Your childhood wasn’t as exciting as I imagined.”
“You’ve spent time imagining it?” Alisa asked.
“Some. Don’t tell me you’re not flattered.”
Alisa pulled her hand away from the comm panel. She would take a look and then try communicating with Tomich, once she had something to report. An energy reading on a sensor panel wasn’t proof of much.
“We’re going in to take a look around,” she said, wishing the ship had an invisibility shield so she could scout without risking retribution.
>
“Can you tell if our people are there?” Yumi asked, looking to Abelardus. “Can you sense them?”
“Actually, I can’t sense anything now. Not even the staff.” Abelardus peered at the map. The volcano was still there, but the red blip had disappeared.
“Uh,” Alisa said.
“Maybe they realized they were trackable and hid their energy signatures,” Yumi said.
“Or maybe they flew that temple out into space where nobody can find them.” Alisa kept on her current course, assuming that couldn’t happen.
“I suppose that’s possible,” Abelardus said, “but we should have seen them leaving.”
“It’s possible?” Alisa gaped at him. “That thing is spaceworthy?”
“Supposedly. It’s been several generations since it left the Northern Mists, but it was originally crafted out in the Avalon Shipyards near the Kir Asteroid Belt. It flew to Arkadius.”
“It’s a castle. With a courtyard.”
“And with engines and thrusters. The forcefield can make it spaceworthy.”
Alisa groaned again, imagining the Nomad flying to the volcano and finding nothing. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe the temple and the staff would disappear for a decade or twenty, and she could pretend none of this had ever happened and go back to her mission of finding Jelena.
Unlikely, Abelardus thought.
A clang came from the direction of the cabins, followed by Beck shouting, “Stay where you are. I’ll stun you again if you don’t stop making trouble.”
“Unlikely, indeed,” Alisa murmured.
Chapter 16
As the Nomad approached the volcano, Leonidas joined Yumi, Abelardus, and Alisa in NavCom. One of the suns had risen over the equatorial continent, but the thick haze outside made it feel like perpetual twilight. They were less than a mile from the volcano before the dark shape finally came into view. Plumes of smoke drifted from the caldera, and molten lava oozed down the naked slopes in many places. The jungle had died away all around the base of the volcano, evidence of past eruptions.
“Any trouble in sickbay?” Alisa asked Leonidas.
“Stanislav is unconscious again.”
“I’m starting to question the doctor’s abilities. Shouldn’t more of his patients wake up eventually?”
Arkadian Skies: Fallen Empire, Book 6 Page 23