Rebel's Quest

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Rebel's Quest Page 13

by Gun Brooke


  “No.” Jubinor shook his head emphatically. “We did what we came here for. We destroyed their communication nodes, their transporters, and most of their unit, just like Boyoda told us to do. Let’s go.”

  Roshan stumbled on unsteady legs before she found her footing and rushed up the slope with Jubinor, chasing after her team as they hurried back to the hidden hovercraft. Roshan took the driver’s seat in the sixteen-seater one and checked to make sure the rest of her team boarded the seven four-seat ones.

  “All set?” she asked the rebels in her hovercraft as she pressed the wheel back against her. “How’s Timis? Is he in a lot of pain?”

  “No, ma’am,” the woman tending to the young man said quietly. “He’s not in pain.”

  The gentle voice made pain erupt in Roshan’s chest. “He’s dead.” It wasn’t a question, and nobody answered.

  *

  Roshan fell from, rather than dismounted, her hoverbike and dragged herself up the wide stairs to her mansion—tired, hurting, and feeling utter loss. Since nobody knew Timis’s true identity, all they could do was secretly leave his body at one of the major hospitals in Ganath and hope that his family would look for him there when they realized he was missing. Roshan hated this callous method of returning a young hero to his loved ones, but they had no choice. There could be no records of names and addresses anywhere, in case they were compromised.

  “Good morning, ma’am,” Wellter said as he opened the door. “You have a visitor. I showed her into the study.”

  “What? Now?” All Roshan wanted was to take a hydro shower and crash on the bed. “Damn, this’ll have to be quick.” She reached deep for a fragment of strength and strode toward her study. Pushing the doors open, she spotted a slumped figure in white coveralls on the couch.

  At the sight of Roshan, Andreia sat up, her back ramrod straight. “You’re back! Thank the Gods…” She moved as if to rise, then moaned and slumped against the backrest.

  “Andreia?” Roshan could hardly connect the stunningly perfect woman she knew and the pale and dirty creature before her. “What’s happened?” She walked to the couch and knelt before Andreia, reaching for one of her gloved hands.

  Andreia yanked it back with a whimper. “I’m sorry. I know it was dangerous to come here.” She cradled her hand with the other, and now Roshan saw the white gloves were bloodstained.

  “You’re hurt!” This realization, on top of the rest of the previous night’s events, shook Roshan out of her daze.

  “Yes.” Andreia leaned forward with a pained expression on her face. “But that’s nothing.”

  “How can it be nothing?” Roshan tried to tell herself she was overreacting, but as she began to peel off Andreia’s left glove, seeing only more and more dried blood, her stomach nearly revolted.

  “It gets worse.” Andreia regarded her hand, seemingly indifferent. “I may have blown my cover.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Andreia stared at Roshan, noticing for the first time the desolation and concern in her eyes. For me? Leaning closer, she forgot about her own troubles for a moment.

  Roshan pulled her other glove off. “Gods, what have you done?”

  “I had to get out of the building…the hard way,” Andreia murmured. She knew she must look terrible. Her hair felt like it was sticking out in all directions, and dirt smudged her arms.

  “Tell me.” Roshan spoke curtly, but she was obviously distressed. “What happened last night?”

  “I had to break into my father’s office to get the information you needed.” Her tongue felt uncooperative, and Andreia heard herself slur. “That set off the alarm, as my father obviously was at the chairman’s function.”

  “How…how could you risk yourself like that?” Roshan looked stricken where she knelt in front of Andreia.

  “I had to.” They couldn’t continue to fight for Gantharat’s freedom with so many of the key members of the resistance missing. This was the only way she’d known how to obtain the information. Andreia examined her hands. The throbbing pain made them seem as if they belonged to someone else. “This,” she murmured and held up her hands, “is a small price to pay for the safe return of our people.” She looked up, suddenly alarmed. “Please tell me you were successful.”

  “We were. We stopped the Onotharians from transporting our people. For now. It won’t take them long to call for backup transport shuttles. The ones they’d intended to use were new, huge and impressive.”

  “The latest model.” Andreia frowned. “I didn’t think it had even been tested yet. They’ve kept everything very close regarding this operation.” She yawned and felt her cheeks warm. “I’m sorry. I’m so tired.”

  “We have to start by fixing your hands. I have a derma fuser upstairs. Come on.”

  “What if the staff—”

  “Wellter will keep them away from us. Nobody knows you’re here but him. He’s supposed to keep it that way.”

  “Okay.” Andreia stood on wobbly legs, feeling ridiculous as she balanced in her high-heeled boots.

  “Come.” When Roshan put her arm around Andreia’s shoulders, Andreia gasped, stunned by the gentleness of the touch.

  Roshan flinched. “Did I hurt you? Are you injured anywhere else?”

  “No. No, I’m fine.”

  “Really?” Roshan took Andreia’s chin and tipped her head back. “You’re being honest now, right? When we were younger, you never did volunteer information. I remember carrying you home after your new shoes blistered your feet, just because you wouldn’t tell me.”

  Andreia knew she was blushing again. She remembered very well how she’d tried to act brave when her feet began to burn, but also how the situation had backfired when she finally couldn’t walk at all. Roshan had scolded her, but also held and comforted her. After she carried Andreia home, she used a home med-kit derma fuser on Andreia’s heels and toes.

  “I promise. Just my hands. Sure, my knees sting from crawling so far, but my hands are a mess.”

  “You crawled—Wait. You can tell me while we get you sorted out.”

  Roshan kept her arm around Andreia as she guided her through the house. It felt so familiar and oddly right that Andreia had to remind herself not to feel too comfortable and safe. Roshan and she were on the same side in this political and military conflict, but that was it. They’d mistakenly assumed they were enemies, and while they weren’t, they weren’t friends either. Or anything more than that…

  When they reached a blackwood door at the far end of the upstairs corridor and Roshan pushed it open, Andreia realized they were in her private suite. Blue silk-draped walls held three-dimensional art, and the furniture looked as if it came from a multitude of cultures. Roshan gently nudged Andreia toward a door to the right, and they entered what had to be Roshan’s bedroom.

  Andreia was too tired to blush, but felt uneasy. Or was the tingling sensation in her stomach something else? It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

  “I have everything we need here. Let me go get the med-kit.”

  “Sounds familiar.” Andreia tried to smile, but instead she fumbled for support when Roshan let go, then cried out when she leaned too much on her hand as she grabbed for the bedpost. “Oh—”

  “Here. I’m sorry. Come here.” Roshan pulled Andreia close and helped her sit on the bed. “Now, don’t move. I’ll be back in a second.” Andreia felt utterly foolish and suddenly lightheaded.

  When Roshan returned with a bag, which folded out into four sections, she took out a small, cylinder-shaped instrument, placed it within reach, and regarded Andreia with soft eyes. “I may have to hurt you a bit when I take off the bandages and the other glove.”

  “Just do it.” Andreia knew she sounded weak, but she was a coward when it came to these things. As Roshan began to peel off the remaining glove, Andreia’s hand stung badly, and she groaned despite her best efforts.

  “How did it happen?” Roshan asked.

  Andreia spoke in a low voice, determined not to
moan again, as she related last night’s events. “I sat in the storage room until I heard people moving outside. I had to chance it, so I opened the door and managed to mingle with a large work force that came early this morning to repair the solar cells on the roof. It turned out they had their own machinery and several group badges, so I stole one, merged with the crowd, and used it to leave the building. I had to use the stolen badge because I couldn’t use my fingerprints or biosignature. The guards didn’t look at me twice or double-check my identity.”

  Roshan looked up, clearly startled. “But that means—”

  “—that I’m officially still there. Kind of.”

  “And with no way to get back in to log out as yourself.”

  Andreia stared down at the deep slashes along her palms. “Oh. They look awful.”

  “Yes. They certainly do.” Roshan reached for the derma fuser. “I’m setting this to cleansing mode first. All right like this?” Holding Andreia’s left hand in hers, Roshan began to move the fuser along the wound. Coagulated blood and dirt disappeared from her skin, absorbed by the recycling part of the fuser and turned into a source of energy, leaving the wound fully visible. “There. Setting it to deep-tissue fuse now.”

  The wound began to close from the inside, and the initial tingle became a burning sensation, just below pain. When Roshan glanced at her with concern, Andreia realized she must’ve whimpered.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” Andreia watched Roshan fuse the cut, but was more enthralled with how careful she was, and how her gentle touch sent tremors along her own arm. Roshan reset the derma fuser to fuse and closed the wound, leaving only a faint red line that Andreia knew would pale within a few weeks.

  “Thank you. I can see you’ve done this before,” Andreia said, and wiggled her fingers cautiously.

  “I’ve had a lot of chances.” Roshan’s voice was hollow, her eyes a dull, dark blue.

  “I’d think so.” Andreia didn’t like how Roshan stared unseeingly over her shoulder, as if lost in awful memories. “Ro?”

  “Yes. What?”

  “What happened last night? Something went wrong, didn’t it?”

  “We met our objectives. We destroyed the shuttles. Nobody was transported off the planet from that compound.” As she rattled off the defensive words, Roshan seemed to close a door in Andreia’s face.

  “But?” Andreia persisted.

  “What are you getting at? Isn’t it enough that we did what we were supposed to?” Roshan’s eyes launched daggers.

  Breathless from the danger oozing off Roshan and from a long-forgotten excitement, Andreia refused to be intimidated. Instead, she touched Roshan’s arm, trying to convey her understanding and sympathy. “You did well. That’s not the issue. I can see that something went wrong. Did your team suffer casualties?”

  Roshan swallowed repeatedly, the anger simmering in her eyes. “Yes. Like on so many other missions. That’s not unusual.”

  “Who? Who died, Ro?”

  “What do you care?” Roshan began treating Andreia’s other hand.

  The fuser stung worse on this one, and Andreia clenched her teeth. She wasn’t sure what was wrong, but Roshan was less careful, seemingly intent on shutting her up by inflicting pain. Or perhaps she was too distraught to perform the procedure correctly.

  “Ow!” Andreia finally winced and pulled her hand back when the pain became more than merely annoying. “Roshan!”

  Roshan jerked and dropped the fuser on the bed. “Oh, Gods, I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I’m obviously going out of my mind. What was I thinking using the derma fuser with that setting? Let me see…”

  Andreia looked down on her hand and saw an angry red welt swell next to the half closed gash. “You hurt me,” she whispered.

  “Not on purpose.” Roshan’s eyes filled with unexpected tears. “Andreia, listen to me. I could never hurt you deliberately. I was angry, yes, and not paying attention. Please, let me see what I did.”

  Slowly, Andreia extended her hand, jumping when Roshan cupped her palms around it. “I’ll fix this. The right way.” Roshan sounded strange. Defeated.

  After she changed the settings on the derma fuser, the pain went away almost immediately as she began to move the instrument in a slow circle above the wound. Soon the gash was reduced to a fine line, and Roshan let go. “There.”

  “Roshan. Tell me. Who did you lose tonight?” Andreia knew she had to ask again, to show herself, and Roshan, that she cared and wouldn’t be intimidated.

  Roshan got up and put the fuser back into the med-kit bag, avoiding Andreia’s eyes as she spoke. “Nobody I knew very well. His call sign was Timis. He was our youngest team member, little more than a child, really. Barely twenty years old, and so eager. Nice kid, too. He took a direct hit to his neck.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I, but what good will that do? We had to more or less dump his body at a hospital and hope they can identify him and inform his family. He’d been…to his brother’s…goddamned…wedding…” Roshan’s voice didn’t carry all the way through her last sentence. She broke down into sobs and pulled back. “That’s supposed to be a happy day, isn’t it?” Roshan spoke through the tears with resentment and anger in her voice. “And now his brother will always remember that his happiest day is also the anniversary of when his brother disappeared…when they lost him forever…”

  Andreia wasn’t going to let Roshan blame herself. She walked over to her, her heart pounding in her chest and her mouth dry, and tentatively touched Roshan’s shoulder. “Ro, don’t. It wasn’t your fault. You can’t protect everybody all the time. It’s dangerous every time we stand up to the Onotharians. I bet this boy knew that, having grown up knowing nothing of freedom.”

  Roshan didn’t push her away, but glared at her with a hard expression. “Nice. But it’s not true. I’m the team leader now. I should’ve anticipated—”

  “I don’t buy that. You’re not perfect, and neither am I. I got you the information and tactical data last night, but I risked everything. I wasn’t as fortunate as I normally am. This may be my last day of freedom. For all I know, they’ve figured it out by now and are waiting for me at home or at work, ready to arrest me. And,” Andreia shuddered, “I’m not sure I could resist their measures of persuasion.”

  “I won’t let that happen.” Roshan’s face changed from stone-carved to worried determination. “I’ll hide you forever before I allow anyone to harm you!”

  Andreia felt something inside her melt. Roshan stood so tall and proud, despite her disheveled appearance and wild white-blond hair. There was something of a tormented deity in her stance, of a goddess who’d stopped seeing or believing in her worshippers and now moved on without them. That’s it. She seems so lost, so…abandoned. With her hands still on Roshan’s arms, she shook her gently. “I believe you.” Not thinking of any consequences, Andreia pulled Roshan closer, intending to give her a reassuring hug.

  Roshan’s hands went up, and Andreia would never know if the gesture was meant to stop her, because they pulled her into a fierce embrace instead. Andreia gasped, feeling small fires where their bodies met. As if transported back through time, she imagined the young, vibrant Roshan held her, tangled her fingers in her hair, and pulled her in for a kiss.

  The older Roshan, with her full lips, curvy and obviously experienced, barely resembled the dynamic young woman who’d loved life with abandon. This Roshan, war-weary from the years she’d led a double life and fought for her homeworld’s freedom, kissed her as if she were the last woman on Gantharat.

  Probing, not allowing Andreia any time to catch her breath, Roshan towered over her, bending her back over her arm. Andreia never would have guessed such passion existed behind Roshan’s normal mask of disdain. The tiny fires on Andreia’s skin threatened to ignite all of her own desires, which scared her more than Roshan’s surprising advances. Still, as she returned the kiss, Andreia hoped for Roshan to be a little t
ender. Tears rose in her eyes, and she mourned for what they nearly had twenty-five years ago, but lost, and could never have again. She sobbed into the kiss, murmuring against Roshan’s lips. “Please, dearest Ro, don’t do this. I can’t stand it. It’s…” Too much.

  Roshan kept kissing her for a few scorching moments and cupped Andreia’s cheek with one hand while she stroked her back with the other. Slowly Roshan released her lips and looked at her with eyes so dark blue they seemed black. Sunlight shone through the large window where thin curtains hid them from the world, engulfing Roshan from behind and painting her an aura of gold. Andreia blinked against the brightness. “Ro?” she whispered. Oh, Roshan.

  “I’m sorry.” Roshan’s voice was hardly recognizable. “I have no idea what got into me. I never…act like this. Ever.” Abruptly, she let go of Andreia and stepped back, wincing as she bumped into a cabinet behind her.

  “I realize that.” Andreia ran a hand through her hair and became tangled in her half-undone hairdo. She yanked her hand to free it. “Ow.” Her scalp burned at her attempt to straighten out her hair.

  “What are you doing?” Roshan reached out with an exasperated sigh. “Here. Let me.”

  “No! I don’t want you to.” Andreia feared what her own treacherous body might do if Roshan kept touching her. Her skin burned, and her nipples ached with need. The few trysts she’d allowed herself through the years had been unfulfilling, quick, and some even physically uncomfortable. None had ever taken her breath away…like Roshan’s kiss had.

  And now, when she ought to back away from the glorious woman before her, Roshan’s hands were already in her hair, untangling the pins and combing out the wild curls with her fingers. “Your hair always had a mind of its own. And you still keep it long. Amazing.” Roshan half smiled. “I like how it looks. It suits you.”

  “Eh. Thanks.” Andreia wondered how Roshan could switch this easily. Hadn’t the kiss affected her at all? “Now what?”

  “We took care of your hands. Now we need to shower. Both of us. And sleep. It’s barely daybreak and we must wait until there’s a morning rush at headquarters to smuggle you back in and then officially sign you out. As far as I can tell, that’s the only way for you to keep going. It’s well worth the risk to do this, to keep Boyoda in play.”

 

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