“Is Bedivere going to be okay?” Connell asked.
Brant frowned. “He passed out or something….”
Yennifer looked up into the air. “The clinic AI tells me they sedated him. He was showing signs of stress.” She dropped her chin to look at him, her gaze troubled.
“That fits.”
“He didn’t want to come back, did he?” Connell said slowly.
Brant shook his head.
Lilly lifted hers and looked at him. There was a shadow in her eyes, too. “Of course he didn’t. Not with Catherine gone.”
“You didn’t see where he was,” Connell said. “You don’t know where he’s been. Even I couldn’t track all the places.”
Yennifer looked straight ahead, not focusing on any of them. “Intestinal cancer, advanced. Numerous brain tumors. Skin cancer. All of them untreated. Numerous broken bones, most of them fused, except for the fingers. Bruising, abrasions, lacerations, burns. All received rudimentary treatment.” She blinked and her gaze focused on them once more. “The clinic AI was able to draw these conclusions from the biometrics of Bedivere’s back-up data. As the data is raw, it admits there might be some medical conditions it overlooked as they did not present strong symptoms or the cessation of pain and suffering that indicates treatment.”
“Glave above,” Lilly whispered. She was pale. “Where was he?”
“Where he says he wanted to be,” Brant said.
Yennifer stared at him. Tears slid down her cheeks. “Then we must convince him that here is where he wants to be,” she said. Her voice wavered.
Lilly picked up her hand and squeezed it. “To start, we’ll give him time. Time to adjust, time to think. We’ll have to wait for our answers.” She got to her feet and cupped Brant’s cheek and gave him a small smile. “You should go and sleep, too. You have that slitty-eyed look of yours.”
“That look has nothing to do with you sitting in his lap, of course,” Connell pointed out. He tugged his coat back into place and pushed his hand through the long floppy locks that tended to fall around his face and straightened his shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you both a coffee and we can gossip.” He spread his arms, expecting Lilly and Yennifer to snuggle up against him.
Lilly gave Brant a smile and ducked under Connell’s arm. After a moment, so did Yennifer. Connell glanced over his shoulder at Brant. “Sleep well.” He winked and walked the two women away.
Brant relaxed. Connell would give them some of the answers they craved and he would spare them the last details for now. He was smart and under that sarcastic manner of his, he was empathetic. He’d picked up the clues and pulled them both out of here to give Brant time, too.
Time to sleep. Time to think. Time to come up with answers he didn’t think he was going to like. Not for the first time, he wished that Catherine was here. She had always been able to cope with anything life threw at her. She would know exactly what to do with Bedivere.
Chapter Three
Tordis Stationary Station, Tordis, Magomed System, Outer Arm. FY 10.187
There was no sunlight to wake her. Instead, there was a steady, deep metallic thumping close by her head that brought her to consciousness in slow stages. It was annoyance that finally roused her enough to move.
She sat up. Her head rammed into the solid bulkhead above the mattress she was on and she gripped her skull as pain flared. The bulkhead was too low for her to sit properly, so she slid down onto one elbow and waited for the pain to pass, while she looked around, fitting together her current location with the previous evening.
It didn’t bode well that she was naked. That reminded her of the foggy sex she’d had. She swallowed.
The quarters she was in were the standard cramped, fold-down, tucked-away living space any station anywhere offered the poorest workers. The quarters were usually far away in the bowels of the space station where the passing public could not accidentally trip over them and where sunlight or even artificial sunlight never reached.
That also fit with the vague memory she had of laughing and stumbling down corridors and clutching at…someone…as the drop shaft made her head spin.
She swallowed again. Disgust was leaving a very bad taste in her mouth. Also, her head was not recovering. The acute agony from connecting with the bulkhead was fading. Instead, a bone-deep ache was coming to the fore.
Her clothes were on the metal floor next to the bunk. Hers were the only garments there and she silently gave thanks to whatever was listening for that small reprieve. Carefully, she reached for her trousers, eased out over the edge of the bed and rested her butt on it while she put her pants on.
“Morning, beautiful.”
She held in her gasp and looked along the short length of the galley-shaped quarters. There was a narrow, built-in table with a bench behind it. On the end of the bench was a big man. Dressed.
He was sliding into heavy boots that didn’t match what most dock workers used. He had the sole of the boot pressed up against the wall opposite the table as he tightened and fastened the belts around his calf and ankle. His hands were big, the fingers unexpectedly long and clever….
Catherine looked away and winced as her head throbbed at the fast movement. When she could focus once more, she worked at getting her pants on as quickly as possible.
“Drago,” the man said. “Do you remember that much?”
Catherine pressed her lips together. Then she gave him a bright smile. “Of course.” She bent and picked up her shirt and fumbled as she tried to find the openings. She glanced at him. He was standing now. The jacket he put on was a dark color, with lots of pockets.
Her heart squeezed. “Are you…you’re not a station employee, are you?”
Drago smiled, showing white, even teeth. “Spacer,” he said. “My ship’s docked, same as yours. You said you didn’t want to go aboard a ship.”
“Then who’s place is this?” she asked, horrified.
“Friend of mine. He’s on the ship…or maybe he’s left already for his shift. It’s pretty late.”
“How late?” She glanced around, looking for a chrono readout and spotted it above the compact cooking area. “Oh, sweet heaven,” she breathed and shoved her shirt into her pants with frantic movements. “The ship leaves in fifteen minutes.”
“It’s not like they won’t wait. Not for someone like you.”
It was the way he said it that made her look at him more carefully. “I’m just plain, ordinary human.”
“Security for the Hana Stareach. Yeah. I don’t believe that anymore this time than I did the first time you told me. Caitlyn.” His smile was growing and there was an edge to his voice she didn’t like.
Now she could recall the basic details. The bar. His inebriated attempt to ingratiate himself. Introducing herself as Caitlyn. It hadn’t been his charm that had seduced her. No, it was more basic than that.
“Well, anyway,” she said, pulling on her boots and fastening them as quickly as she could. “I gotta get back in a hurry.”
He stood between her and the heavy metal door. She moved toward it and he took the small step necessary to block it. He looked down at her. “You know, most men would take it as an insult, you wanting to leave as soon as you woke up.”
“I told you, my ship is leaving. It was a fun night. Now get out of my way, Drago.”
“And I told you, no one is going to lift off and leave behind The Great Shahrazad herself. So take a breath and relax a moment or two.”
A chill settled in her middle. On top of the hangover, it made her feel sick. “The what?” she said. Her lips felt rubbery.
Drago gave her a wise look. “Your name isn’t Caitlyn. Red hair. Blue eyes. Real smart and can hold your liquor. The first human to take a Varkan as a lover. You think I’m so stupid I couldn’t figure out who you were?”
Catherine kept her breath slow and even. “You’re not Varkan at all, are you?”
Drago’s smile was even brighter. “I gotta admit, I’m a little surprise
d at how easy it was to get you into bed once I told you that. From your reputation, I figured even if you were still carrying some sort of thing for the guy, you’d be steeled against such an obvious—”
Catherine didn’t let him get the rest out. She kneed him, dropping her body weight back so she could drive her knee into his crotch with as much power behind it as she could. Her knee sunk into soft tissue to a satisfying depth.
As he sagged over from the hips, his hands going to his genitals, she brought the heel of her hand up, connecting with his chin as it dropped down. It lifted him up off his feet. He slammed against the steel wall and slid to the floor, gasping and wheezing. His fingers were making weak, protective motions around his crotch.
Catherine crouched down next to him. “If you tell anyone about this, if I hear even the smallest whisper about you and me, then I am going to come back and find you.” She plucked one of his greasy hairs from his head. “And now I have your DNA to track you with. Don’t make me use it.”
She shoved the hair into her pocket, kicked his feet aside and opened the door. It was dim outside the quarters, with the oily machinery smell that came from unaired areas inside a station. Catherine looked along the length of the narrow aisle between the individual living units. There were old paper lanterns lighting small areas, lots of washing hanging on rails and projections and lines strung between units. Litter on the floor, broken and scratched chairs parked in front of units here and there. The drip of moisture from condensation on the roof, far above, was a steady background noise.
There was no one to be seen, or to ask for directions out of here. Of course not, it was the middle of the day shift. They were all at work.
Catherine patted her pockets, checking for her credits and ID, then picked a direction. Any direction would do, as long as it was away from here.
Like most of the more modern stations, Tordis looked like a rambling, multi-level structure bristling with docking stations on the exteriors. All the spacer amenities were around the same edges, leaving the administration and maintenance staff and workspaces to fill up the middle while the bottom levels were kept for the least important functions and people.
So Catherine looked for stairs or drop shafts that would lead her upward. The escape stairs were about where she thought they would be and she climbed as high as they would take her. It bothered her that she was forced to stop after a few flights and catch her breath, while her head thumped and her stomach protested.
By the time she stepped out into warm, artificial sunlight and air that felt considerably fresher than on the lower decks, her temper was simmering nicely. She looked around at the passing traffic. It was a typical station crowd—spacers and local employees, scammers and drifters.
There was a terminal screen on the wall opposite the stairs, which was also a standard placement. Thankfully, she tapped through the screen, orienting herself. The top deck had been a good guess. The Hana Stareach was here, just a kilometer away.
Catherine hurried through the crowd, moving faster than most of them. A few con artists tried to waylay her with appeals for assistance and some locals flashed trinkets at her. She ignored them all. Her heart was hurrying from her quick pace and because the Hana really was due to leave in…about five minutes, now.
She might not be the security chief on the ship, but that didn’t mean the ship would wait for her if Devlin wanted to leave. She didn’t like to let him down.
The ship was still there when she reached the dock, although all the station personnel were already gone and everything battened down inside the dock for departure. Even though the Hana was a Varkan ship, it still needed old-fashioned engine power to move away from the station before it made the jump. Moving such a large vessel took big engines with lots of exhaust fumes, venting and noise. Not much had changed in docking procedures even though Varkan ships were now so numerous.
Catherine made herself smile a thank you at the attendant waiting to retract the steps into the ship and seal the doors. She didn’t know him. There were four hundred people on the ship and they rotated frequently. She also didn’t know how many of them were Varkan. She had to take Devlin’s word for it that most of them were. Varkan were content to serve in menial roles just to be aboard the same craft as Devlin Woodward. That was why the personnel changed so frequently. There was a long list of Varkan waiting for their chance to serve and they had figured out some sort of system that gave each of them equal time. The system worked well. She had never heard of any of them squabbling over time or their place in the line-up. Varkan seemed to be able to get along with each other much better than humans could get along with other humans. The petty selfishness that colored many human dealings was completely absent in the Varkan.
Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that they were grateful to be among humans in a body that had been gifted to them and they never forgot that privilege. Whatever the reason, it made life aboard the Hana Stareach as one of only a handful of humans very pleasant and stress free.
Catherine went straight to the flight deck, where she knew she would find Devlin. He liked to watch the stars shift when the jump took place.
He was standing at the cartography table with the three Varkan pilots when she climbed up the steps to the flight deck. He glanced up as she moved over to the table and gave her a warm smile. “By the skin of your teeth once more, hmm, Catherine?”
“Sorry. I slept in.”
“I hope he was worth it.”
Catherine rolled her eyes and Devlin’s black eyes danced in amusement. He turned back to the holographic star system array rotating over the table. “Do you have the fix, Mael?” He turned to look at the pilot’s chair, which had been swiveled around to view the table. Mael Maedoc was this jump’s main pilot. He was a tall Varkan with shaggy black hair and a scruffy beard and very plain clothes that always looked wrinkled. He was an Interspace expert, considered one of the best among the Varkan. Newer Varkan would seek him out for guidance in finding and navigating Interspace. Devlin liked to use the most skilled help he could find.
Mael nodded. “I have it.” He swiveled the chair around so that he was facing the big windows. They really were windows, not just screens projecting the outside view, which had been the traditional ship’s idea of viewports. The windows were steel, of course, but the impenetrable solidness of heavy and shielded metal wasn’t needed on Varkan ships, that never left inner space or local orbit.
The ship lifted off from the docking pad and started to drift forward, as the outer doors of the docking station opened up. Ahead was star field, a green crescent that was Tordis itself, all framed by the superstructure of the station, which started to slide past them faster and faster, until they were out beyond the station itself.
“Where are we going, again?” Catherine whispered, leaning toward Devlin so she could keep her voice down.
Devlin nodded at the two other pilots, Cleon and Wayna, who stepped up to the copilot chairs at the front of the deck. He shut down the map and took Catherine’s elbow. Gently. “I have some coffee here, freshly brewed.” He led her to the small lounging area, where a coffee service had been placed on the low table. Steam was rising from the mouth of the pot.
Catherine’s mouth watered. “Gods, yes, coffee,” she breathed.
Devlin sat on the forward-facing lounge so Catherine took the other one. He poured the coffee, the small smile lingering around the corners of his mouth. “Is it my imagination, or do I sense an air of regret about you this morning?” He was speaking quietly, so that no one else on the flight deck would hear him.
Catherine sighed and took the cup he offered. “I’ve told you before. I’m not good and kind and…upright, like you.”
“We all have pasts,” Devlin said, pouring a cup for himself. “Some of us live with them easier than others.” His black gaze caught hers. “You should forgive yourself and move on, Catherine.”
“It’s not me that needs forgiveness,” she muttered. Then she pressed her li
ps together. “Never mind.”
“Bedivere?” He gave her a small smile. “You never speak his name. Are you aware of that?”
Catherine sighed. “Meaning that if I could, I’d be cured?” She grimaced. “Easier to just not think about it at all.”
“And while you are busy not thinking about him, it colors everything you do and most of what you say…or don’t say.” He shifted on the seat. “I’m in lecture mode. Forgive me. I don’t like to see you abuse yourself like this. To answer your question, we’re heading for—”
The ship gave a little shimmer around them. It was a barely perceptible tremor.
“We have arrived,” Devlin corrected himself smoothly, “at Ey’Liv, just in time for my meeting with the planetary governor…although he’s not really planet bound anymore. He lives in the city that has attached itself to the station.”
“Like coral,” Catherine said.
“An apt analogy,” Devlin replied. “It does make life easier when we don’t have to navigate the gravity well to meet with people on the planet surface. It saves time and energy.”
“I know you like the idea of space cities,” Catherine said. “I still have my doubts.”
“Even though you lived in the original space city for years.”
“Charlton wasn’t a city to start with. That came later. I started living on a ship that turned into a city while I wasn’t looking.” She sighed and sipped her coffee. “Old history.”
“Interesting history. You know I never tire of your stories.”
“Docking at Ey’Liv station in twenty minutes,” Mael said.
“Thank you,” Devlin told him gravely.
Catherine took his moment of distraction to study him openly. Devlin was a great-looking man. He had rich olive skin and black hair to match the eyes. A pleasant smile. He was intelligent. He worked tirelessly to advance Varkan affairs in the galaxy, even though he was human. He had single-handedly negotiated with every known world, talking them into signing a Varkan Bill of Rights and Freedoms, thus earning himself an indelible place in history. He was a humanist and philosopher and was one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. He used his influence to improve human and Varkan lives…and he was taller than her—just.
Cat and Company Page 3