Her heart was broken on the night she left Festa; today, her heart was shattered.
Davell turned onto a side street and stopped in front of a small inn. The White Fawn had probably been a rundown place well before the new regime took over. A small wooden sign promising clean beds and warm meals banged against the building with a dull, rhythmic thud. In more than twenty years of living in Festa, she’d never noticed this place. It was well beneath anyplace she would’ve normally stayed.
“Stand here while I see if they have a room.” Davell tossed the one bag that held their things on the sidewalk beside her. “Watch our things, woman.” He looked up and down the side street. “Don’t speak to anyone.”
Suzy nodded, not sure how long she’d be able to keep up this charade. It went against everything she believed.
You’re doing it for Zara and Mom. You’re doing it for the planet.
When Davell stepped back outside a few minutes later, she’d shored up her resolve and was rededicated to the mission.
“Carry our bag upstairs. First room on the left. I’ll join you later.” His eyes met hers, and, for just a sliver of a second, she saw the man she’d fallen in love with beneath the costume. “Don’t leave the room, woman,” he said, clearly for the benefit of the inn’s proprietor who was staring at her from the door frame.
“I can help with the bag, sir,” the innkeeper said.
“No, she can do it,” Davell said. “After all, women are supposed to be of service to us. Am I right?”
The man said nothing but looked at her with undisguised pity.
The way Davell was treating her went against everything Desprezívelian society held dear in regards to the way men should treat women.
Suzy picked up the bag and hauled it upstairs. The room was small, furnished with a double bed covered with a traditional Desprezívelian spread, a pitcher and basin, and a small round table and chair. Everything looked worn and threadbare, but it was clean. The tiny window looked out over the street, but the outside of the glass was dusty and grimy. There wasn’t much to see out there anyway.
After locking the door behind her, Suzy ditched the heavy shawl and itchy brown dress and stripped down to her bra and panties. She lay on the bed and enjoyed the light breeze created by the motion of the ceiling fan. The small house where she’d stashed her daughter and her mother, was only three or four blocks away. It was so hard not to grab her things and run down the hill to her home.
She’d been away from them for so long, and she had no idea what her daughter’s condition might be, how long she might live without the medicine she so desperately needed. It had been nearly two weeks since Nora had brought word to her in the dressing room.
It might already be too late.
Amber’s heart squeezed and it was hard to catch her breath. The air in the room felt thin, dry.
I have to see my family.
Just as she rose from the bed and dug into the travel bag, Davell came into the room. His purple turban was a bit askew and his dark skin shone with perspiration.
“What are you doing?” he asked. He knitting his brow and looked between her and the suitcase.
She shoved a handful of clothes back into the bag. “Nothing. Just looking for my makeup.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “You weren’t thinking of going to visit Zara, were you?”
“I just. . .I need—”
In only three steps, he was across the room and standing beside her. He grasped her arm, just above the elbow and looked deeply into her eyes. His grip was firm.
“We already talked about this. You can’t go home. I can’t imagine how hard that must be, but if you do, you’ll be putting yourself, and your family, in grave danger.”
“But I’m so close,” she protested, hating the way her voice broke. “They’re only a few blocks away. I just need to know they’re safe. Alive.”
“This is a time for long-term strategy, not short term rewards.”
Davell pulled her into his arms and held her close. She listened to the rhythmic thud of his heart. After she’d calmed, he kissed the top of her head.
“We’ll get them out as soon as we can,” he said. “I promise.”
Suzy fell back onto the bed, utterly defeated. The ceiling was a dull white and there was a water stain in one corner. She watched the waning light move across the wall. In the background, she heard the scratch of Davell’s pen on paper, the click of his tongue, the shuffling of his feet on the hardwood floor. She felt powerless, and as much as she hated the feeling, she knew there was nothing she could do about it until the mission was complete.
“I’ve found him,” Davell said.
Outside, the street lights had just come on, casting the room in an otherworldly blue.
“Who?” she asked.
Even though hours had passed since Davell had come back into the room and stopped her from running to her family, Suzy hadn’t moved. She’d watched each hour pass, the two suns of Desprezível setting, the moons rising, the light going from yellow-orange to bluish-white. After seeing how her hometown had changed in the short time she’d been aboard Quantum, she knew that there was little chance that her mom and her daughter were safe. There was a desperate quality about the place that she’d never seen before, even though she’d been through several regimes. The weight of depression made it impossible to get up and go to the table where Davell was working.
“Mausebar. Obersturmbannführer Wolfgang Schmidt. He’s the logistics officer here, and I’m hoping he’s the same one who came to see your shows.”
She wished she could feel hope, but instead, she felt defeated.
“Why would he help us?” She placed her hand over her eyes. “I’m not sure anyone can help us. They’d be killed immediately if they did anything to help us.”
Suzy heard the scrape of Davell’s chair, the rasp of his sandals on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. He reached out and took her hand.
“I know it looks dire, and it is dire, but we may have the power to stop this before it goes any farther.”
“It seems impossible.”
“The first thing they taught us in intelligence training was that everyone has a price.”
“A price?”
“Mausebar might be willing to help us if we’re willing to help him.”
“How could we help an Eiferer? It seems to me that he’s the one with all the power.”
Davell smiled, revealing his dimples. “No one ever has all the power.”
He’d taken the turban off and he looked more like the man she’d fallen in love with back on Quantum. She wished things were different. She wished she’d met him here, on Desprezível, when she’d been at the top of her game. She wished they wouldn’t have to part ways once this was over.
But if he could help her save her family, she’d be forever in his debt.
He lay beside her and pulled her into his arms. “I have a plan,” he whispered into her hair. “And everything is going to be just fine.”
Five
The next morning, with both suns blazing through the thin, threadbare curtains of the room, Davell rose, procured fresh water from the pump just outside on the street, and washed and shaved. By the time Suzy woke, his stomach was growling.
“Let’s get some breakfast,” he said. “Then we’ll start the serious work.”
She was slow to get out of bed, and watching her dress, in the plain brown tunic and the knitted shawl, was painful. It was as if she’d transformed from a beautiful, colorful bird into a tiny, brown mouse. With each layer of clothing, she looked older.
After she finished applying the makeup that hid her blue diamond, she turned to face him.
“Am I a convincing Warbullian woman?”
“Yes,” he said, offering her his arm. “And in only a few days, you can go back to being The Desprezívelian Diva. I’m sorry you have to do this. If there was another way—”
“There isn’t and
I’d do anything for Zara and my mother.”
When he first met her, in the beginning days when what they shared was mostly heat, he wouldn’t have guessed her depth. She was beautiful and talented, but she was also a caring and kind person. He hadn’t expected that.
“Let’s see what your hometown has to offer in the way of food,” he said.
“I know just the place,” she said. “I hope you like a thimble of SweetWine with your ham and eggs.”
They walked back toward the center of town, Suzy following three or four paces behind Davell. He hadn’t been to Festa in ages, but even so, the changes were remarkable. Gone were the colorful vendor stalls, bright advertisements for shows and plays. There were no flowers, no SweetWine shops, no colorful dresses in shop windows.
The restaurant didn’t have any SweetWine to offer, but the ham and eggs were tasty and the meal filled him up. Suzy picked at her food, only managing to eat a few bites of her eggs.
“It makes me sick, too,” he offered. “The way they’ve destroyed the character of this place.”
“I wonder if it will ever be the same,” she said. A small tear formed in the corner of one eye.
Too much nostalgia on Amber’s part might give them away, and he couldn’t let that happen. They’d come too far, risked too much. He did the only thing he could.
“Not now, woman. I’m tired of your sniveling,” he said in a booming voice. “Dry your eyes. I have business to attend to today.”
Her eyes went wide and she looked at him as if she were prepared to argue with him, fight back with her customary sass, but her face fell and she cast her eyes downward.
“Yes, sir,” she said in a small voice.
“Let’s go.” He looked at the other diners and was pleased to see that everyone was staring at them and no one thought they were anything other than a rustic Warbullian couple with few social graces.
Just past the port, to the left of the docks, a small, low-slung building served as the outpost for the on-planet Eiferer. Even though Davell had worked as an intelligence officer for a long time, his heart still pounded with fear. While it was true that no one ever held all the power, the man he was going to meet held far more than most. As the director of logistics, Mausebar was tasked with making sure everything ran smoothly.
But, just like everyone else in the galaxy, he had a weakness, and Davell intended to capitalize on it.
The plan was simple, but there were still many things that could go wrong.
“Wait here,” he barked over his shoulder to Amber. It wasn’t easy to treat her with such disrespect, but, for now, he had to do everything he could to reinforce the disguise. Not only was he making her stay outside the building because he wanted to ensure that no one saw through the Warbullian disguise, he also wanted her to have a sliver of a chance to escape in case things went bad.
“Yes, sir,” she answered in a voice as broken as he’d expect.
“If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, get back to Quantum any way you can.” Into her hand, he pressed his identification badge into the palm of her hand. “Find Colonel Jack Westenberg. He’ll help you.”
“I thought this was a simple plan.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t go wrong.”
He took one long look into her green eyes and walked toward the building.
Davell hated himself for what he was about to do, but he had no other choice.
Inside the building, everything looked just as he expected. Orderly. Gray. Cold. Somehow, on a hot planet like Desprezível, the regime has already found a way to make their offices as chilly as the outer reaches from whence they came.
The soldier working the front desk was young. Tall and thin, he reminded Davell of a piece of spaghetti before it was tossed into the salty water in the pot.
“I would like to meet with Obersturmbannführer Wolfgang Schmidt.”
The young man sneered at him. “He only meets with people who have made an appointment, and looking at his schedule for today, you have failed to do that.”
“I just arrived. I am Raggell Phagrox, a Warbullian merchant and I can help him meet the supply demands for Desprezível, while looking out for himself at the same time.”
“He has everything well in hand, I assure you.”
It was hard to stomach the dismissive tone in the soldier’s voice, but Davell swallowed hard, and said, “Oh, yes. Yes. I’m certain that he does, but I have an offer I don’t think he can refuse. Please, just a few minutes of his time.” He pulled a few drabbles from the messenger bag and clinked them against each other in his palm. “I can make it worth your time, as well.”
All tyrannical regimes had two things in common: greed and corruption.
“In that case, he might be able to spare ten or fifteen minutes.” The young man stuck his hand out.
Davell dropped the coins in the waiting hand. “Thank you kindly. You won’t be sorry.”
“Wait here.”
The young man walked to a door near the back of the building and knocked. “Sir, a Warbullian is here to see you.”
The man who came out of the office was exactly what Davell expected. Large and soft, he looked like he belonged at a desk in a bank someplace. His broad shoulders filled out the gaudy uniform jacket and the fabric strained to cover his middle.
“Sir,” Davell said. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“Ten minutes,” Mausebar said. “That’s all the time I will give you.”
“If we may speak someplace more private?”
“My office. Follow me.”
Once they were inside, Davell noted how impersonal the office was. There were no mementos, no digital images. Mausebar closed the door behind him and sat behind his large desk.
“What can you offer?”
“Freedom.”
Mausebar’s eyes went wide and Davell knew he’d hit on something. As quick as lightning, his expression changed again. “I find all the freedom I need in the work I do here.”
Davell removed his turban and flashed his badge. “There’s no need for bullshit. I know who you are and what you want.”
“You have no idea who I am.”
Davell rose from his chair and stood at the desk. “I know more about you than I know about my own grandmother. You can choose to believe that, or you can choose to call my bluff.”
“What do you want?”
“Safe passage to Quantum for me and three other people.”
“Who are they?” Mausebar asked.
“Does it matter?”
“It might.”
Davell shook his head. “Here’s the arrangement: you guarantee us safe passage or I tell your commanding officer about your little secret.”
“What secret?
“Are you sure none of your soldiers are listening?”
The man’s face flushed. “I think you’re bluffing.”
Davell placed both palms on the desk. “Let me put it this way. You weren’t offering a rendezvous. You were offering an escape.”
He’s been inside too long.
The one thing that was still the same in Festa was the clock just to her left. It had been part of the downtown area for as long as anyone could remember. She’d watched the minutes tick by, praying with each one that Davell would step out of the office unscathed.
Something went wrong.
She picked up the suitcase and checked the clock again. Sixteen minutes.
Time to go.
She’d promised Davell that she’d find a way out, and she would, but while she was here, she had to check on Zara. She had to see her mother.
Wrapping the knit shawl tightly around her shoulders, she hustled up the hill, hoping she wouldn’t draw any attention to herself.
She was only three houses away when someone yelled, “Halt!”
Her heart stopped beating and her legs froze to the spot. She turned to see a soldier, dressed in all gray and balancing a rifle on one shoulder.
“Madam, show
me your papers.”
She fumbled in her bag and pulled out the travel papers stamped by the customs official.
He snatched them from her hand and looked from the papers to her, and then back again.
“You are not this person,” he said, voice cold as ice.
“What?” she asked in her best Warbullian accent.
“Don’t play stupid with me,” he said. “I know exactly who you are. This costume hides nothing”
She’d known that she was too recognizable to hide for long.
Didn’t I try to explain that to Davell a million times?
“You will come with me, miss.”
Suzy didn’t know if she was scared or relieved that she didn’t have to run anymore.
He grabbed her arm, tossed her bag to the ground, and ordered a nearby soldier to seize it. Buried deep in the folds of a travel blanket, she had a small bottle of the makeup remover. She hoped they didn’t find it.
On the march back to the center of town, no one she passed would meet her eye. The soldier was rough, his grip pinching and bruising her arm, but she bit her lip and refused to give him the satisfaction of causing her pain.
She tried to make peace with what would likely happen next.
At least there will be no more worry.
“Halt!”
This time the voice sounded familiar.
The soldier loosened his grip on her arm and stopped on the sidewalk.
“Release that woman,” the voice said. “By my orders, release her. Report to my office. I will see you there shortly.”
“I wasn’t propositioning you, Amber. I was trying to get you off of this planet where you were in constant danger,” Mausebar said. “I was trying to save your life.”
They were in a small room in a building just beside the docks. The room was stuffy and smelled of cabbage and burnt bacon.
“Why me?”
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