Dell carved through the fluffy, virginal clouds high above Fenton’s planet with a whoop of delight. He’d never flown anything so fast, so nimble. He barely had to twitch his hands or even think a thought before the yacht seemed to react in anticipation of his every move. And this was a damn yacht! Basically a glorified, overstuffed shuttle. Imagine if they could get this technology into their fighters. Commander Harm had assured him Corliss and Rishi were already mocking up drafts and schematics, but the timeline was sketchy. No matter. For now, he was high on the very possibility.
Others proved slightly less enthusiastic.
“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” he heard Roon’s choked voice in his ear piece.
“Sorry!” He eased back, banking softly and surfing the yacht’s belly through a fresh bank of clouds. “Heh. Got a little carried away. That any better back there?”
“So much. Thank you, Dell.”
As they cleared the canopy of cloud cover, the oohs and ahhs sounded behind him. It took an embarrassingly long amount of time before Dell realized he was helping form the chorus. But, really, it couldn’t be helped. The planet was perfect. Gorgeous. A true master work. It didn’t hurt, either, to know that they were the first to ever streak through its skies and gaze upon the wonderment of its manufactured creation.
The future. That’s what they were witnessing, Dell and all the others. Fenton’s future, one they would be all too happy to live in. The implications, the promises. They could finally break the backs of the corporate states, for starters. Really propel the movement, undo the damage that had been done, usher in a brave new galaxy…
Ohana Cassel, flying alongside him as the nominal copilot, was the first to notice something strikingly familiar off the starboard side. “Is that the Canyon Sea of Eniz?”
Below them, a series of steep, undulating mounds rose hundreds of feet into the air before falling away sharply, leaving deep, black ribbons of canyon between each of the mounds. Seen from above, the mounds and canyons—which tended to follow the same parallel, curving course for miles on end—collectively resembled a massive, rippling earthen sea.
“That it is,” Fenton confirmed. “You mentioned you were from Eniz. I thought it would make for a nice addition.”
Dell brought them in for a closer pass. Ohana laughed excitedly. “It’s incredible! Exactly like I remember it!”
“Well, to scale, anyway. The entire planet is really just a series of scaled reproductions of well known galactic geographical features,” Fenton admitted. “Easier and quicker than going purely from scratch. Besides, it demonstrates the incredible versatility and variety of conditions that be can replicated.”
Fenton wasn’t kidding. As they toured the planet they streaked across boiling savannah and deserts at the equator, freezing glaciers and ice sheets at the poles, and virtually every manner of environment in between. Finally Fenton gave Dell a set of coordinates, and he guided them to a perfectly scaled recreation of the Antarran Archipelago that Soroya and Xenecia had called home as younglings.
Fine pink coral sand crunching underfoot. Glassy emerald seas chasing the horizon as far as the eye could see. The curving, strangely alluring shores of neighboring islands. The sight rendered Soroya speechless. She clutched at her breast with both hands. A single tear escaped the corner of her left eye, streaking her cheek.
“Xenecia’s contribution.”
“I never thought I would see it again,” Soroya said shakily. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She smiled the smile of joyful sadness. “The air even smells the same.” She wheeled in place, embracing him gratefully. “Thank you, Fenton.” Just as quickly she removed herself, strolling down the beach to wade dazedly into the placid surf.
Commander Harm grinned broadly as he watched the love of his life experience what previously would have been as much an impossibility as a fantasy. “This is some achievement, Major. And, for what it’s worth, I could try all my life to repay you for that moment right there and not succeed, so I’ll just say thank you, too.” He thrust his hand between them.
Fenton took it, wincing only slightly at the Commander’s crushing grip. “You could start by dropping the Major bit. Fenton works just fine for me.”
“Deal.” He looked to the rest of the them. “So, here’s the rub. We’re bivouacking here for the night. The Commandant and I will be claiming the suite on the yacht, but there are plenty of prefabs in the hold for the rest of you. The first full shift will be coming down tomorrow, but tonight this beautiful little bauble is all ours, so feel free to cut loose and enjoy yourselves to the fullest. You’ve earned it and then some. Whatever you do, though, be back in two hours or you’re going to regret it.”
“What’s in two hours?” Alexia wondered.
“Bonfire.” He winked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Turning smartly, he headed out to join Soroya in the surf.
The others gradually filtered off to their own devices, Dell included. He found a nice little spot about a quarter mile from the landing site, plunking down and pulling his knees up to his chest as he watched the waves loll against the shore a few feet away. It didn’t take long for his thoughts to drift back to Kalifka Bazaar, the events replaying in slow motion in his mind’s eye.
“There you are,” a voice announced from behind him, snapping him back. Ohana Cassel plopped down beside him. “I’ve been looking for you all over.”
Dell blinked dumbly. “You have?”
“Yeah, well, you’re pretty much the only one here who isn’t attached at the hip to someone else, and me, I’m a people person. Not big on being alone. Besides, the way I see it, you owe me for fishing your sorry butt out of empty space.” She smiled a little crookedly, her nose crinkling at the bridge.
Dell’s heart nearly skipped a beat. He couldn’t have cared less if she was teasing him or not. “Yeah,” he said. “Cool. Works for me.”
“Cool. So, what are we doing? Admiring the view or something else?”
“Something else.”
“Okay…”
“The Bazaar.”
“Ah. Yeah, I heard it got a little hairy down there.”
“I killed a man. A guard.”
“Do you feel bad about it?”
“Not really. I’ve killed before. I have the second highest kill count among the wings, behind Commander Harm.”
“Braggart,” she teased, bumping him shoulder to shoulder.
“This one was just so close.”
“Well, did he deserve it?”
“He tried to go for his weapon. He would have shot me. Or Alexia. Or Torrey or Breed. Someone, anyway.”
“Sounds like a big fat yes to me.” They sat in silence for a while longer before Ohana slapped her thighs. Pushing onto her feet, she offered him a hand up to follow. “C’mon.”
“Huh?”
“This is boring, Dell. You nearly died. Hell, technically you did die. You need to have some fun. We’re going exploring.”
Dell took her hand. At her direction they skirted the shore for a while, then turned inland to follow a river feeding into the ocean through grasses growing taller than their heads. He might have been concerned but for the knowledge they were among the only eight living creatures on the planet. Still, the ghostly whispering of the wind through the grasses was no less eerie. The payoff came a few hundred yards in when the grasses parted to reveal a glittering freshwater cove fed by a forty foot waterfall on the opposite end.
“Now this is more like it,” Ohana declared, her face brightening with an excited smile. Without hesitation she crossed her arms before her, grasping the hem of her top and pulling it over her head. The black halter holding her breasts close to her chest followed next, then her boots and socks.
“What are you doing?” Almost immediately, Dell felt silly for asking.
“I want to go for a swim.” She bent at the waist to strip out of the rest of her kit. “I don’t know about you, but the only suit I didn’t forget to bring is my birthday suit
. You coming or what, flyboy?” She smacked him with one of those tomboy grins and dashed into the water, laughing as she fell backward and immediately began to backstroke out to the middle of the cove. She was an incredible swimmer. Quickly he stripped down while she hooted and catcalled from the water. His cheeks flushed bright red, but he sprinted for the water as soon as he was naked nonetheless. She met him halfway, catching his hands and pulling him in close. One hand drifted to his side beneath the water, the other to the back of his neck as she leaned in for the kill, her lips latching to his. He returned the favor gratefully.
“Now, isn’t this better than sitting on your ass and staring mournfully out to sea?”
“Much better,” he agreed.
“Good.” She favored him with another long kiss, then broke away and pushed off with her legs. “Race you back to shore!”
“I thought you wanted to swim?”
“I did! Now I want to do something else!”
She beat him, of course, with enough time to arrange their kits into a kind of patchwork blanket. She pitched his naked body onto it as soon as he emerged from the water.
“Whoa!”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said as she swung a leg over his lap, straddling him.
“What’s that?”
“We’re just having fun.” She leaned in close, nipping playfully at his neck. “You read me, flyboy?”
“Loud and clear. Not looking for a boyfriend.”
“Winner, winner,” she declared, rocking forward slowly.
Suddenly, Dell was feeling very good about Torrey’s advice in the Bazaar.
In fact, he was feeling very good about a great many things.
By the time they finally finished with each other, swimming and frolicking and fucking to their hearts’ content, two hours had long since come and gone.
“Think they saved us anything?” Ohana asked as she hiked her pants up over her hips with a shimmy-shake that made him twitch with arousal.
“Sure they did. Anyway, you heard the Commander. He told us to cut loose.”
“Well, we definitely did that, didn’t we?” She sidled up to him for a long kiss, bare breasts pressed against his chest before she eased back to pull her shirt on. Dell briefly lamented the lost view.
“C’mon, let’s go find out what we’ve been missing.”
Torrey was the first to spot them emerging from the tall grass. The two of them were walking closely, their hands draped around each other’s waists. “Well, well,” he said, obviously a bit buzzed. “Look who we have here.”
“Baby brother! Where have you been? Come get drunk with us.”
Grinning, Torrey arched a brow suggestively. “I think I’ve got an idea where they’ve been. Or at least what they were up to, wherever they were.”
Alexia squinted through her buzz, her eyes scanning them both before making sense of their body language. Her lips spread into a wide, inebriated grin. “Baby brother got laid? Get the fuck out of here!”
At that, the two of them just smiled. They weren’t confirming, but they were hardly denying, either.
“Good for you, son,” Commander Harm said. He paused for a moment, puffing on a large cigar. “Not much point coming back from the dead if you don’t intend to live it up.”
“Help yourselves to the rest of the food,” Fenton said. “We’re stuffed.”
“Oh, and we saved a bottle for you,” Roon added.
The others lazed around the fire while Dell roasted kabobs of seasoned beef and lamb with fresh peppers, pearl onions, plum tomatoes, and zucchini—all acquired as a result of that fateful trip to Kalifka Bazaar—for he and Ohana. They ate them ravenously, having worked up quite an appetite at the cove. Afterward they licked the fatty grease from their fingers and shared the bottle of hooch the others had saved for them until they were every bit as stuffed and tipsy as their companions.
“Damn, that was good,” Ohana said, sighing contentedly. “Where’d you learn to roast a kabob like that, flyboy?”
“That man right there,” Dell said, singling out Commander Harm with one of his skewers. “Taught me everything I know.”
“Best student I ever had,” Commander Harm answered. “Like a sponge, that one.”
“Well, cheers to you both. I could get used to this.”
“Well, you shouldn’t, to be perfectly frank,” Commander Harm put in. “Victory rations come few and far between. Hence the name.”
“That’s not what I mean. The food was great, yeah.” She grew silent for several seconds, staring into the crackling fire before elaborating. “It’s just the corporate culture I come from, I guess. Command staff would never rub elbows with a couple of lowly flight officers like Dell and I. Just like Fenton’s discovery would never have earned him an officer’s commission, or even the slightest bump in pay.”
“Preach!”
“But you guys, you seem like the real deal. It’s kind of awesome. Inspiring, even.”
“Anytime you want to sign up, there’s a place for you on Gold Wing,” Commander Harm offered. The tip of his cigar flared bright in the waning hours like a fiery period on the end of his statement. “Guaranteed.”
“Gold Wing leads the way!” Dell and Alexia bellowed in unison.
“You mean that, Commander?”
“Absolutely. The way you ran that Tyroshi blockade was one hell of a piece of fancy flying. Or, if you’d like, we’ll provide the means to pursue your fate elsewhere.”
“Meaning?”
“Safe transport to your next waypoint. Some funds to tide you over. Least we can do for bringing Dell back to us. That was a gutsy move. Exactly the kind we value in Gold Wing, I might add.”
“Huh. Okay. I’ll let you know once I’ve given it some thought.”
“Take your time. We’ve got a week before we redeploy.”
“So, Fenton,” Dell wondered a while later after their little party had retired to a steep dune, the fire at their backs as they listened to the indigo-shaded waters lick at the shore.
“What’s on your mind, blood brother?”
“What do you call this place?’
Fenton made a face, scratching his head. “Huh. You know, I never really thought it through that far. After everything that’s happened over the last six months or so, I kind of still can’t believe I’m actually here right now.” He laughed, shrugging unaccountably. “Absentminded scientist, I guess.”
“I vote Fentonia!” Roon volunteered, giggling tipsily.
Groaning at the very sound of it, Fenton shook his head as vigorously as a dog shaking off water. “No, no, no. Veto.”
“Aw, but I like it.”
“How about Fenton One?” Ohana offered.
Dell knit his brows together thoughtfully. “How about… Eden Prime?”
“Eden Prime,” Fenton said, testing the feel of the words in his mouth. “I think I like it.”
Roon nodded enthusiastically. “Me, too.”
“Very apropos,” Soroya agreed.
So went the general consensus down the line.
“Well, then,” Fenton declared to a small forest of raised bottles, “ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the management, welcome to Eden Prime!”
31 • POLITICS
It was an enlightening exchange, to say the least.
Not so much that his stolen yacht had been used to deliver the high-yield nuclear device that destroyed the Tyroshi fleet in question. He had already worked out that sequence of events as a matter of course. It was the only loose thread connecting the two events, after all. The fact that at least one of his fugitives was somehow connected to the Coalition of Free Planetary Republics and the Free Planetary Irregulars, though—now that qualified as enlightening.
Naturally, his first thought was toward Fenton Wilkes. Certainly after six months on the run it was possible he had cultivated some affiliation with the coalition and their military wing. But plausible? Hardly. If that was the case, why had he not sought asylum an
d petitioned for citizenship? Instead, he had been captured alone, lightyears from anything resembling coalition space. It simply didn’t add up.
He felt reasonably assured in ruling out Ensign Cassel. She was taken under duress and nothing in her jacket suggested any coalition ties. By all indications she was a corporate patriot through and through.
Roon McNamara was more of a question mark. While her jacket gave no indication of coalition ties, there was a history of activism in her family. Moreover, the very nature of her position invited suspicion. She was on the payroll specifically to argue against Morgenthau-Hale’s best interests, most recently the speedy prosecution and interrogation of corporate fugitive number one. Perhaps if he had met the woman personally in the brief time she was aboard his station he might have a better read on her. That had been Garrity’s duty, however, and any insight his former XO had gleaned from her was lost, along with the man himself, during the Tyroshi bombardment.
By process of elimination, that left only one reasonable candidate: Xenecia of Shih’ra. The conclusion was self-evident yet still vaguely puzzling. Xenecia was a challenging individual to truly know, but he felt he had a reasonable grasp on her motives and methods. She was fiercely independent for a start. In many ways she was a wild animal, easily provoked and all the more deadly for it. He had learned that lesson the hard way. She was no more trusting than a wild animal, either. Again, lesson learned. But that only begged the question, why was she aiding the person she had worked so hard to capture? The obvious answer—spite at being cheated of her bounty and life bonus by hopelessly naive bean-counting bureaucrats—didn’t quite seem to wash. No, the truly obvious answer was as simple as any other fare she had accepted on behalf of Morgenthau-Hale: money.
That could only mean one of them had paid her, or at the very least promised to pay her. Obviously not Fenton; his accounts had been frozen for months. That left Miss McNamara. It took little more than a few keystrokes to bring up the screen monitoring her accounts; she was a person of interest, after all. Eighty-two thousand, six hundred and eighteen credits. No activity. He put a priority flag on it, ensuring he would be notified immediately if and when that changed.
The Lazarus Particle Page 24