Honor Lost

by Rachel Caine

  A scoffing sound came from Chao-Xing. “As far as I’m concerned, Bacia got enough aid from us when they stole our drones.”

  “Same,” Bea muttered.

  “I see that you’ve failed to consult the mechanical component of the crew,” EMITU said. “As usual.” The robot was taking a tone.

  Damn, I’m tired. “Did you think we should go save the Sliver?”

  “No, I don’t care about any of them. But it’s nice to be asked!”

  I glanced at Jury, moving toward the console. “How about you?”

  The smooth robot voice assured me, “I agree that we should not divert course. It would be highly illogical.”

  I didn’t quite grin. “Still going to kill me?”

  “Not today. Perhaps tomorrow.”

  “Great. All in favor, motion carried. We’re rolling on.”

  We signed off after that, and the robots went about robot business. EMITU was explaining kitten holos to Jury, so that would probably end somewhere fun. Starcurrent hadn’t turned up for the confab, and that was just as well. Ze tended to be the most compassionate among us, and ze was already feeling bad about Greenheld.

  Bea touched my shoulder lightly. “Whew, it’s been a day. Or longer? The passage of time is so confusing in space. I’m ready for a nap. You good?”

  “More or less. I need to talk to the lizards again.”

  She kissed my cheek and headed out of Ops. Nadim was always with me, but his mood felt grave and heavy. “Did Marko and Yusuf make you feel worse?” I asked.

  “No. But it is difficult for me to ignore anyone in need. Even Bacia.” He sounded wistful, and I remembered how bright and pure he was when I first came on board. Thanks to Nadim, I was softer, but he’d gotten harder, and I regretted the loss of his innocence.

  “Understood. We can spend a little quiet time together after I take care of something. Is that okay?”

  He responded with a flare of color, soft pink like the petals of a rose. “I would like that, Zara. It feels like forever since . . .”

  I got what he meant, even if he couldn’t put it into words. We had been running full-out for so long that we’d lost some of the joy in just being together. Saving the universe wouldn’t matter a damn if we lost ourselves along the way.

  Now that I had the promise of something brighter than another disaster in the near future, I cheered up as I contacted Suncross’s ship. “We’ve talked about it, and we’re not going. I called to ask you to send a reply.”

  “What is the message?” This was Ghostwalk, not Suncross. I could see their fearless leader lolling in the background, downing engine cleaner like there was no tomorrow. There probably wouldn’t be any sense coming from him for a while.

  “Are you the designated driver?”

  Ghostwalk was more serious than Suncross, less jovial. “Your meaning is unclear.”

  If you had to explain your humor, you never got a laugh. “Never mind. Tell Bacia that they got backup when our drones went rogue and that we wish them well.” The last bit might have been a stretch, but burning bridges never achieved anything.

  “Understood, Zeerakull. We go toward glory!”

  “Uh, sure. Glory and waffles. Don’t bother me with the response, if there is one. Ignore anything Bacia has to say from now on.”

  “I hear and obey.” Ghostwalk tapped out of the conversation as a chant started in the background.

  “Good talk,” I mumbled.

  In a way, this might be my last chance to be with Nadim for a while. After I told everyone about my genius plan, there would be fighting, but in the end, they’d all agree that this was the best path. If I didn’t want to ruin the moment, though, I had to keep this from Nadim until I was ready to break the news. Our quiet time would be neither quiet nor peaceful if he figured out what I had in mind.

  I didn’t like keeping secrets from him, but it wasn’t like I’d never tell him. Just . . . I wanted to enjoy being with him first. This shouldn’t be a forever farewell, just a temporary separation, but I already knew how he would react. Squaring my shoulders, I carefully boxed up my conviction and hid it in the darkest corner of my mind.

  “Nadim?” I said his name softly.

  “What would you like to do, Zara?”

  “Let’s fly together. Give me a minute to get comfortable.” I quickened my step, hustling to my room so I could settle on the floor, bare hands, bare feet, and a blanket to pull on top of me. “Lights down, door set to ‘no visitors.’”

  The room responded to my request and I closed my eyes. Becoming Zadim felt like coming home as our senses blended and spun outward. No enemies in range, no imminent violence to dread, only the sweet rush through the black and the vivid pulse of distant stars. We heard the traitorous cousins singing and understood their pledge to hunt us down, but we didn’t respond. They had lost the right to share our harmony.

  Bare black around us, sparking to life with other colors, light beyond hue. We sailed past systems made of cosmic dust and nascent planets bonded together with little more than gas and starlight, traces of broken comets caught in the pull. Wonders old and new brightened our senses, and everything became a marvel because we were together.

  We blazed past quasars and spangled nebulas, and all the stars sang. They serenaded our progress, the most enchanting music we’d ever heard. Gravity wells and black holes, empty systems and ancient, mournful hypernovas, keening their own slow fade from existence. We danced at the edge of a red supergiant, the heat burnishing our armor, and it was a fire that burned only for us, brilliant and exquisite. Playful, bounding, turn of tail and outward roll. Bea stirred when we got too energetic, and it was all glorious, but eventually we split, falling, empty, reaching—

  I dropped into my tired body, weary but gratified. “That was fun.”

  “It was. Are you all right?” His concern never failed to warm me. “Did we stay together too long?”

  “I’m okay. But I never get used to that . . . break.” It was starting to hurt. Each time, I wanted to stay longer and give more. During those moments, our real-life problems lost urgency. I hadn’t thought about what lay ahead at all while we were bonded. I’d just . . . lived.

  “I feel it too,” Nadim admitted. “Zara, are you keeping something from me?”

  Shit, he noticed? I shouldn’t be surprised. That knowing could be both a blessing and a curse, a double-edged sword that could slice into my determination to clean up my own mess. I took my time answering, trying to cover my uncertainty with a luxurious stretch.

  Maybe I should tell him first? Before the others. The last time we fought, it was because I decided something on my own and cut him out of the loop. Down in the temple of doom, I judged myself expendable and blocked Nadim off. After that, I’d promised to treat him like a partner, not somebody I had to protect. At this point I had to admit that my reluctance didn’t come from the same pure place. I was just avoiding a tetchy subject.

  Time to come clean.

  “You could say that. I have something to tell you and you won’t like it.”

  “I’m listening, Zara.”

  “How much do you know about my past?” I knew he’d read the file the program provided on me, and he’d gotten a lot from our bond, but I wasn’t sure if facts filtered through as much as feelings and impressions. I certainly didn’t hold on to concrete memories that belonged to him when we broke apart, and I guessed it might be the same for him.

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “Then I’ll start from the beginning. My family had . . . problems, mostly because of my dad. If it seems like I’m going a long way back, it’s because I want you to understand everything.”

  Nadim lit the floor beneath my fingers. “Please go on.”

  “My health problems were in the file, I’m sure. And I was a difficult kid. I ran away a lot, after treatment, and I gave my mom a hard time. Eventually, I met up with Derry.”

  Nadim growled.

  “I know. But back t
hen, he seemed better than home, more exciting, or hell if I know what. My mother warned me away from Derry, but that only made me want him more. You couldn’t tell me anything then, and I just had this need for . . . for space. For escape. We ran wild as stray cats in the Zone together. He watched my back, and I was good at scoring stuff. Chem, goods, you name it. Looking back, I can’t believe I made it out in one piece.”

  “You’re right,” Nadim said. “I don’t like any of this at all.”

  Crap, and I hadn’t even gotten to the rough part yet. Surely Nadim wasn’t jealous; that didn’t seem in character for him. “What’s bothering you in particular? I hope it’s not Derry, because—”

  “Not that. While it is . . . strange to hear about your life with him before we met, more than that, it hurts to hear that you felt so alone that you chose to be with one who did not cherish you, who hurt you, and now hunts you.” Anger sizzled in his normally gentle voice.

  “I’m getting to that. One day, I snatched a purse from somebody I shouldn’t have. And that started this whole chain of events where I pissed off a major criminal named Deluca, who thinks I messed with his supply chain. That should have landed on Derry too, but he has a way of skating no matter what. I thought I’d escaped when I got tapped as an Honor, but it’s followed me out here and it nearly took out everyone I love in one shot.” I still heard that merciless countdown in my head. If Xyll hadn’t appeared, and EMITU hadn’t rushed to the rescue . . . we’d be dust and wreckage, drifting and dead. All of us.

  “Derry mentioned someone called Deluca when he was threatening you.”

  “Yeah, it’s a problem. Deluca is very rich, very powerful.” I elaborated on how the asshole had gotten into the big-deal Honors party, solely to threaten me.

  “I hate feeling helpless, knowing you’ve been harmed and there is no way for me to punish the culprit. Never have I wished that I could leave the stars until this moment, but for you, I would take on human skin and gladly smash that monster with . . .” Nadim paused. “Both appendages!”

  Okay, that shouldn’t be so cute. He was so mad he’d forgotten my people had hands. “You want to protect me, I get it. I feel the same about you, which is why I hid this for a bit, after I made up my mind.”

  “You wanted to give me something sweet before the bitter.” Nadim sounded faintly sorrowful, enough that I almost couldn’t say the rest.

  I had to, in order to keep my promise to treat him like a partner. Nadim first, then we’d tell Bea together. The others I’d inform as a group.

  “That wasn’t just for you. I needed something for myself too. You know I love you, right?” I probably didn’t say that enough. “But you also must know I have to take care of this. We can’t afford to fight on multiple fronts, and if Derry’s Leviathan jump us as we engage the god-king, it would be a disaster. This started with me and it ends with me.”

  “What do you plan to do?” he asked quietly.

  Mustering all my courage, I told him.

  Interlude: Derry

  We’re making good time. I hate being alone on this fucking ghost ship. It hates me; I can feel it coming out of the walls, and it eats at my head. I wonder if it gets in my dreams. If I could’ve said no to this mission, I would have. I wish I wasn’t on one of these freaky, creepy monster ships. Give me plain mechs any day.

  Deluca’s orders keep on coming. Now he wants me to vid her death, which means tinkering with that hulking robot he gave me. I’m no slicer; I can’t do this kind of shit well, but I can’t exactly tell the boss, now can I? I think I got it. Hope my patch holds, and it doesn’t make him fucked up in some other way. Last thing I need is to go hand to hand with Zara. It’s bad enough coming out here on his orders to do this much; I don’t want to have to kill her my own self.

  When I’m sober, which isn’t often—what the hell else is there to do out here on board a ship that hates me?—I remember none of this is really her damn fault. But mostly I feel like if she’d stayed loyal, done right by me, stayed where she belonged, we’d both be fine. Instead I had to get cleaned up and polish the devil’s boots and pretend I liked it just so I could survive.

  And now, this shit.

  I hate it. Maybe once it’s done, I can crawl back to the Zone, back where I belong, and just be done.

  Sorry, Z.

  But it’s you or me, and I pick me. That’s how it is.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lost Chances

  TO SAY NADIM didn’t like it was a vast understatement. I felt the shock, the sad blues of disappointment, the crimson streaks of anger. Those feelings lived in me too.

  “No,” he said. It sounded unyielding. “Zara, you cannot do this. I won’t be able to protect you!”

  “Sweetheart, I’m not here to receive your protection. I’m your partner. We agreed on that, right?”

  “Yes.” Grudging, but at least it was agreement.

  “You admit that I’m capable of fighting on my own?” If I told anyone my real plan, it might not work. For this to be effective, everyone had to believe I was doing the noble thing, even Nadim. There had to be real fear and devastating grief. Jury probably had the ability to read the physiological signs of human emotions, even if he didn’t feel them. Likewise, he could probably also sense when people were trying to fool him. I had to sell this completely or everything might blow up in my face.

  “I know. But—Zara. I don’t like it. Please don’t do this. You’ll be away.” His anguish gouged me like the sharpest blade.

  “I have to go.” Have to stay strong.

  I wished I could take Nadim, but the remote camera Bea and I jury-rigged had limited range. It seemed cruel to bring him partway when we both knew that he couldn’t stay. Also, and this was the larger issue, I was scared he might be distracted at a critical moment if his attention was split. I couldn’t risk everyone else getting hurt—or maybe even dying—because Nadim was looking too long at me. No, it was better to say good-bye now and hope it wouldn’t be forever.

  Nadim made a sound of protest, but I went on. “You need to promise me something, and this is not negotiable: you need to promise me that you won’t come charging after me, no matter what happens. If this doesn’t work, then I’ve gambled and lost. But you will have Bea, and you will live. Understand?”

  He didn’t. Well, he didn’t want to understand, to be more accurate; Nadim was smart, and he understood that at a certain point this was necessary. He understood too that there was always a risk of death, whether we were together or separate.

  But he also felt what I did: I didn’t want to leave him; I had to leave him if we were going to have anything like a winnable war against Lifekiller. And we had to win. We opened Pandora’s box back in that tomb; we had the deaths of entire planets on our consciences now. No matter the cost, we had to win.

  “I can’t lose you and go on,” Nadim whispered. “I only just found you. We only just found each other.”

  “I know,” I whispered back, and turned my head to kiss the skin of the wall. Hot pink rays shot out from the place I’d pressed my lips. “But we’re warriors right now. We can be something else when this is done. But right now, we’ve got to fight. And I know you can. You’re so strong, Nadim. Stronger than I am, in some ways.”

  “Not without you.”

  “Yes. You’ve got Bea. She’ll see you through this.” And what do I have? I really didn’t want to analyze that too deeply. Because no matter what, Derry was my problem to fix.

  And I had to go do that. Alone.

  Well. Almost.

  I slept like a corpse, no dreams, and when I woke, I felt refreshed but heavy, like I’d swallowed lead. That was a whole load of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. I buried it under a quick breakfast and Starcurrent found me as I was raiding the weapons locker.

  Ze looked stronger than in recent days. Maybe the grief of being exiled was wearing off a little. Maybe. “You are expecting trouble,” ze said, and the color wheel I’d memorized told me the flashes of silv
er through zis extremities meant ze was worried. Well, hell, that was a permanent state for us right now. “What comes?”

  “Nothing’s coming,” I said, and shut the locker as I found a place to conceal the small but powerful stunner I’d grabbed. It fit nicely in the small of my back, under the uniform jacket. I also had a knife up my sleeve. It wasn’t exactly an armory, but I was hoping I wouldn’t need even that much if things went right. When do they ever?

  “Then why weapons, Zara? Is there danger from the Phage?” Starcurrent shuddered lightly in all tentacles. “The creature is not contained?”

  “Xyll’s doing whatever it is Phage do when they’re wounded,” I said. “EMITU is treating it for the pain. Apparently, it went back to a transitional stage to grow back its lost limb faster. Not sure how long that will take, but we’ve got it under tight security just in case. There’s no trouble on board. I promise.”

  “Zara.” Starcurrent got squarely in my path. “You are not being honest. Why?”

  I sighed. “Because I need to talk to Bea first. I promise, you and EMITU will be next on the list. I’ll save Jury for last.” For reasons. Good ones, starting with the fact that he’d spent all night reviewing our travel record, deep-diving into everything I’d done since leaving Earth. At least he did his due diligence. Couldn’t be fairer than that. “Half an hour, and I’ll update you. Okay?”

  Starcurrent didn’t like it, but ze didn’t object as much as I’d feared, and when I knocked quietly on Bea’s door, it slid open. Her hair was wet, and she was detangling it. Without a word, I began doing it for her, careful with her springy curls. She made a wordless sound of pleasure deep in her throat and closed her eyes, and I had to take a minute before I said, “I need to tell you something.”

  That got her eyes open again, and she looked at me in the mirror. I kept working on her hair. “What? Zara, what are you doing?”

  “Not so much what I’m doing as what I’m about to,” I said, and took a deep breath. She swiveled around in her chair to face me. Bea kept a neat cabin—neater than mine; I was bad about putting my shit away—and I was caught by the holo playing silently on her wall. Her family, waving good-bye to her during the Honors send-off. A smiling old grandmother who sang opera prominent right in front. Bea had lost so much, being here. I had to make it right for her, if not for myself. “I’m going to give myself up.”