Quantum

by Jess Anastasi

  Great, just what they needed—for the poor sap to have a coronary on them.

  “Not until you tell me what that was and what the hell is going on here!” The high president glanced at Rian, but seemed to be directing his outrage at Forster.

  Forster tossed up both hands. “Hellfire, I barely know what in the name of a saint’s ass is going on, myself. Rian, feel free to do the honors.”

  A shadow of impatience crossed Rian’s face, but his expression mostly remained perpetually lethal, like usual. “Fine, but what I’m about to tell you cannot leave this room. If it does, I can assure you with all certainty that your entire planet will be blown to spacedust.”

  High President Hamilton cast a quick look around the room, gesturing for the rest of the government members to come forward. They sat around the rectangular table in the middle of the room, then the president motioned for Rian to continue.

  Zander crossed his arms and watched the dawning expressions of horror on the men’s faces as Rian told them the truth. With the hard evidence of a dead alien in their midst, obviously they couldn’t refute what should have been an outlandish tale. Shape-shifting aliens? It sounded like the punch line to a bad joke, or the premise of some B-grade horror movie.

  Tension pulled at his neck and shoulders. How had his life come to this point?

  Only two things were holding up his sanity right now. First—the burning drive to get back what was rightfully his, plus a little revenge served on the side. And second—Mae Petros with her secrets, razor-sharp intelligence, no-nonsense attitude to everything that crossed her path, no matter how ridiculous, and the way she kissed him when he had her naked and splayed—

  “Graydon!”

  Zander glanced up to see Forster and Rian staring at him with almost identical expressions of annoyance.

  “Sorry, zoned out for a second.” He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing down the smolder his momentary imaginings of Mae had caused.

  The other two men had their Reidar stun guns out, so Zander slipped his free as well. The high president had gone over to the doorway and was conducting a discussion through the locked panel, assuring the CP officers that everything was well and they didn’t need to bust into the room with guns blazing.

  “Let’s get ready to roll.” Rian took out his nucleon gun and now had a weapon in each hand. He nodded toward the door, and Zander got his unspoken message. Any of those CP officers could be Reidar as well, so they’d be weeding the garden on the way out of the building.

  When the high president stepped back and sent them a nod, Forster walked over and used Tannin’s device to unscramble the security codes, allowing the double doors to swing outward. Pissed-off-looking CP officers lined the hallway, easily twelve or so of the bastards.

  Rian stepped forward, both guns pointed outward. “Now, you all are going to obey your high president and put your weapons down. On the ground, kick them to the middle of the corridor, and put your hands on your head. I see anyone making a move, I splatter their brains all over the ceiling.”

  The guards all looked to High President Hamilton, who confirmed the order in an unyielding voice. There was a bit of grumbling, but with a short clatter of discarded weapons, the officers all complied.

  “All right, this next part won’t hurt a bit, so long as you’re one of us.” Rian took a quick glance back. “Qae, take the left. Zander, go right.”

  Zander moved up on Rian’s right side, steadying his stun gun in a two-handed grip. The three of them moved down the corridor, Forster and him pulsing a blast of energy through each soldier, while Rian kept watch, ready with the nucleon gun if any of the officers reacted to the energy weapon.

  By the time they’d reached the end of the hallway, most of the soldiers were looking either irritated or curious, but none of them had been revealed as Reidar. Lucky, because Chase’s Reidar stunners had all run out of juice.

  Forster sent the president a nod as they holstered their weapons. “Thanks for your time and understanding, sir.”

  President Hamilton inclined his head in return. “I should be thanking you, Captain Forster, for bringing this to our attention. Between the new equipment you sourced and this unbelievable revelation—well, just know that you’ll always find safe refuge and welcome on Sarolta. All of you.” The president cast a thankful glance over the three of them then disappeared into the room they’d just vacated.

  “Let’s get back to our ships,” Rian murmured.

  “Yeah, we’ve got a few minor details to work out,” Zander added. Like formulating a plan to take his own ship back. Which should hopefully be easier to do now that they’d confirmed Chase’s weapon could reveal a Reidar.

  The three of them didn’t make much small talk as they headed back to the undersized, private, and most importantly abandoned spaceport where the Ebony Winter had set down.

  Mae and Lucie were sitting on metal folding chairs just beyond the ship’s ramp, both holding bottles of aerated electrolyte water and sharing a packet of crisps. Well, isn’t it nice being some people? While he’d been risking his neck, Mae had been enjoying a pseudo-picnic with her new friend. The two women stood as they got closer.

  “Obviously it went well. You’re all still in one piece,” Lucie said, holding the crisps out of Forster’s reach as he made a grab for them.

  “More importantly, did you find any Reidar?” Mae walked toward him. Zander found himself reaching for her like it was the most natural thing in the universe, even as she stepped into his hold, bracing her palms against his pecs and leaning up to kiss him…on the cheek. Not what he really wanted, but he wasn’t about to complain. He caught her hip in his hand before she could escape.

  “Worried about me?” he murmured.

  She arched a brow. “Somehow, I feel like if I admit that I was, it’d be giving you a definitive advantage in this relationship.”

  He slid his other arm around her, holding her in place as he met her smoky-gray gaze. “Is that what we’re doing now…a relationship?”

  A hint of vulnerability and uncertainty shadowed her eyes for a brief moment, sending a slight chill through him. Okay, he didn’t want to hear the answer to that stupid question, especially if it wasn’t anything good.

  “Forget I said anything. Now is quite obviously not the time.”

  “But that’s exactly our problem, isn’t it?”

  Her quiet words sliced through him, but he didn’t have the luxury of hashing things out or telling her what he really felt, particularly considering their audience.

  Though Mae’s expression had shut down, he pulled her in for the kiss he’d really wanted in the first place—his lips against hers, savoring the warm slide of their mouths together. If only they were by themselves, he wouldn’t have hesitated to deepen the kiss, pull her harder against him, and take a moment to forget every single little problem plaguing them.

  Instead, he broke the almost chaste kiss and eased away.

  “If you two are finished mauling each other, we have business to discuss.”

  Zander looked up at Rian, finding his old friend was the only other person still standing outside the ship. Everyone else had disappeared.

  Mae shot Rian an exasperated glare. “You were always such a romantic, Sherron.”

  “Except that’s not why you didn’t sleep with me. From memory, it was lack of privacy. That couch in the officers’ lounge on the Beta Fourteen waystation wasn’t exactly concealed, although that didn’t stop us from—”

  “Rian,” Mae interrupted in a hard tone Zander had never heard her use before.

  But forget the warning in her voice, ice pricked his fingers as he glanced between them. He’d already guessed they had history, but how, exactly, did that story end, and did he want to know? His heart gave a few uneven pounds. It shouldn’t matter—it was clearly in the past, and technically wasn’t any of his business; by all accounts he had no right to Mae and never would. But the illogical acid burn of jealousy had taken hold in his guts.
>
  “Didn’t stop you from what?” The demand was out of his mouth before he’d even finished debating the common sense of pursuing this conversation.

  Mae sent him a look that clearly told him he was an idiot. “Rian is just pulling your chain, Graydon, so quit yanking back.”

  Oh, so he was back to being Graydon now, was he? Fantastic.

  Well, he’d thrown himself in this deep—might as well finish drowning. The razor heat within him had climbed from his stomach and curled up his spine to the back of his neck. “Go on with what you were going to say, Sherron. We’re always sharing old war stories, right?”

  Except none of those other tales or recollections made him want to punch his closest friend in the face.

  Rian shrugged, the palm of his right hand on the butt of a gun, his expression unreadable. “It was just one night and a few too many beers, Zander.”

  “Yeah, and those beers and one night led to what, exactly?” Where the hell was this masochistic streak coming from? Why did he need to know the sordid details? He should leave well enough alone, because he didn’t want to imagine Mae wrapped around Rian the way he’d had her wrapped around him last night. But the moronic macho possessive side that Mae had accused him of wouldn’t let it go.

  Mae grabbed his arm and turned him to face her, interrupting the glare-down he had going on with Rian.

  “It didn’t lead to anything, Zander. Like Rian said, we were on a couch in the middle of an officers’ lounge. We made out for a while, that’s all. And it was like seven years ago or something. It’s history. So I’m not going to stand here while you two idiots piss out your territory, or whatever this is.”

  She glared at him then sent Rian a matching frown and stomped up the ramp to disappear into the ship.

  Great. He’d be spending all of their alone time later explaining his apparently stupid, sexist, possessive streak. The few other relationships he’d ever had, he’d always prided himself on treating the woman in question as an equal, affording her the respect she deserved. What was it about Mae that had him bristling over idiotic things like a one-off that technically hadn’t even happened seven years ago?

  He took in a short breath to get a handle on his temper and looked at Rian. “No offense, but you’re an asshole.”

  “I’m the asshole?” Rian stared him down in return, a typically intent expression on his face.

  After the Assimilation Wars, Rian had developed this scary, lethal intensity. It was somehow connected to the Reidar and had something to do with all that time he’d gone missing, presumed dead, when the Reidar had captured and tortured him. Rian had told him some basics, but he’d never really talked about it. As much as he trusted the guy he’d known for half his life, there was something terrifyingly unpredictable about the man, like having a tiger on a fraying leash.

  “I’m not the one acting like a jealous pussy.”

  Annoyance flared through Zander, and he glowered at Rian’s flippant answer.

  “Things are complicated, and you’re not helping.”

  “Things are always complicated. So man up and treat her right, or you’ll have to answer to me.” Rian sent him the shadow of a deadly grin.

  “Screw you, Sherron.” Zander sent him one last scowl and then brushed past him to head up into the ship, back to the communal room where everyone else was waiting to decide their next move.

  “Took you long enough,” Forster complained, passing shallow bowls along to his crew. Chase set a pot of something on the counter and started serving up some kind of rice dish that smelled delicious. “Can’t do any sort of nefarious scheming on an empty stomach.”

  “Is that what this is?” Zander murmured, glancing at Mae as he accepted a bowl.

  She stared at him in return, but his brain couldn’t interpret what that particular expression might mean.

  “So I’ve been thinking,” Forster announced as the food was dished out.

  “That’s always a worrying prospect,” Rian muttered, which only earned him a short glare from his cousin.

  Forster hopped up and sat on the counter. “Apparently Rian here has embarked on some kind of crazy war against an entire race of aliens, the number of which currently residing in our galaxy we can only guess at. And Captain Starch Ass over there wants to get his toys back, even knowing that the majority of his commanding officers are probably those same parasitic bastards.”

  A quick burst of indignation ran through Zander; his temper couldn’t take much more crap today. “What’s your point, Forster? I’m sorry if I haven’t had time to formulate a detailed plan, but I’ve been a little preoccupied in the last week trying to keep all my various extremities attached to my body.”

  “No need to have a mantrum, Graydon. My point is,” Forster continued, his tone heavy with exasperation, “you can’t just go back to puttering around in your IPC flagship and pretend like nothing happened.”

  “I wasn’t planning to. That’s what we needed Rian for—to amalgamate our pool of information and work out the best course of action.” The indignation was quickly turning hotter. Had he thought for half a moment Forster might be a decent guy? Clearly if he had, it’d been some sort of temporary insanity.

  “Right, but knowing my cousin here, I’m sure Rian’s strategy would be something along the lines of splatter first, make plans later.”

  Now it was Rian’s turn to look affronted. “And you’ve got something in mind, Qae, despite the fact that a week ago you didn’t even know the Reidar existed?”

  Forster pointed at him with his fork. “If you’re serious about taking on these aliens, you can’t expect to do it with just the Imojenna and a handful of guns that, while they reveal the sons of bitches, don’t actually kill them. If you’re going to war, you need an army.”

  “That’s all well and good, but it’s just talk.” Rian’s tone was part annoyed, part exasperated. “How are we going to tell an army’s worth of people that shape-shifting aliens exist, let alone convince them to stand against their own government?”

  Forster shrugged, a half grin chasing over his mouth. “You don’t need to conscript an army—you just need the startings of a fleet. And what better way to lead an armada than with a huge-ass flagship like the Swift Brion?”

  The words slapped Zander like a blow upside the head, echoing through his entire body. The rest of the room seemed to have been whacked into a similar stunned silence.

  “You want me to retake the Swift Brion and then go AWOL with one of the IPC’s largest ships and the entire crew?” His voice came out strained, his throat tight with disbelief.

  “It’s brilliant.” Rian shot to his feet, and Zander could practically feel the energy rolling off him. “He’s right. Between the Swift Brion and all its firepower, the Imojenna, and the Ebony Winter, we have the real beginnings of a force.”

  Forster had been grinning, but his expression dropped into a scowl. “Hang on just a second. I never volunteered my ship—”

  Rian clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re neck-deep in this now, Qae. There’s no getting out of it. If you don’t stick with us, the Reidar will take you out before you can even think about getting off Sarolta.”

  Forster’s expression darkened. “I didn’t sign up for this shite—”

  “And you think I did?” Zander put in. “Yet you’re suggesting I go attach a huge, whopping target to my ass and then mutiny for the entire universe and government to see. If I’m putting my balls on the line, then you sure as shite will as well, Forster.”

  Forster’s glare eased into a thwarted but no less pissed-off expression. “Just for the record, you’re both assholes.”

  Rian shot him a short, lethal grin. “Then you’re in good company.”

  Zander shook his head, disbelief and incredulity churning through him. Rian had started pacing, and he could all but see the wheels turning in his buddy’s mind. It was about as animated as he’d seen Rian in years. But they couldn’t really expect to go through with the preposterous
suggestion. Steal an entire flagship?

  They wouldn’t last five minutes before the IPC sent half a dozen other war vessels after them. Taking on the Reidar would be a little hard to do once they got blown into tiny little pieces.

  “Look, I’m all for throwing ideas around, but this wouldn’t work.” His voice came out sounding far calmer than he felt, his insides zinging with unease. “We’d have the Swift Brion just long enough to contemplate our own mortality before the IPC sent another ship to take us out.”

  Rian didn’t pause in his pacing. “Then we take the ship somewhere the IPC can’t or won’t go to retrieve it.”

  This was getting downright ridiculous. “The only places in the universe where the IPC won’t go would result in the same outcome—the Swift Brion and everyone onboard exploding into a billion pieces.”

  “There is one place that might work,” Forster said slowly, Rian and he sharing a weighty glance. “The Barbary Belt.”

  Okay, he’d thought this couldn’t get any more ridiculous, but apparently he’d been wrong. What were they going to suggest next—they use the Swift Brion for a spot of piracy?

  “You think we can fly an IPC flagship into the Barbary Belt and we won’t get riddled with holes?”

  Rian stopped pacing, intent stare focused on his cousin. “Not if we’re escorted by one of the universe’s most wanted marauders.”

  Zander crossed his arms, putting pressure against the pounding of his heart on the inside of his ribs. Rian had a reputation for being a ruthless, borderline deranged son of a bitch, but this plan went beyond that into the realms of suicidal.

  Except the soldier he’d been before he’d become a captain admiral was trying to tell him this totally insane scheme might be their best chance.

  As much as he hated to admit it, Forster had been right on one count—he couldn’t retake the Swift Brion and fly off into the sunset under IPC jurisdiction like nothing had happened.

  Forster reluctantly nodded. “It might work, but there are certain people we’d have to clear it with. We can’t just fly an IPC ship into marauder territory without announcing our intentions, or we’ll all get blasted to smithereens.”