The High Ground

by Melinda Snodgrass

  “Have you got Cipriana and Dani yet?”

  “No. Everybody’s running around trying to get the station stabilized.”

  “Which makes us nicely… superfluous,” Mercedes said. “So we can go.”

  That crooked grin appeared. “And here I thought we were—” Tracy began.

  “Big damn heroes,” they concluded in chorus, quoting Chief Deal’s constant refrain.

  Mercedes grew serious. “You are.”

  High color flared in his cheeks. “What? Me? No.” Tracy was vigorously shaking his head.

  “Yes. You came up with the whole plan. Just like that.” Mercedes tried to snap her fingers. It didn’t work in battle armor.

  “Yeah, well, you took out that ship.”

  “And you took the hub.”

  “Not really.” The excitement that had lit his eyes died and he looked much older than his eighteen years. “All I did was get Hugo killed and Davin hurt. Most of those pendejos committed suicide before we reached them.”

  The station personnel were hovering, literally with the lack of gravity. Mercedes magnetized her boots and reluctantly clomped over to greet them. “Highness.” It was an older man with skin like old yellowed ivory who had spoken, and he gave her a courtly bow. “We have instructions to take you to the manager’s quarters until the imperial yacht arrives. Your father wishes you to return planetside as soon as possible.”

  “Thank you, but I still have a pressing duty to perform.”

  “I appreciate that, Highness, but I must insist,” the man said.

  She glanced at the nameplate woven into his jacket. “Really, Señor Hsieh, you’re going to overrule me? Really?”

  Mercedes watched the internal debate. Good sense won out. It probably also didn’t hurt that she was larger than the slender older man in her heavy battle armor. Hsieh nodded and stepped back. “I’ll inform the palace.”

  “No need for you to be the bearer of that particular bit of news, señor. I’ll let them know myself.” The man looked pathetically grateful.

  She gestured to Tracy and he clicked his way to her side.

  They stepped into the hub. Mercedes shot him a glance and they burst out laughing. “God I love it when you’re so badass. I mean regal.”

  Suddenly shy, she looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Do you honestly think that? That I’m badass?”

  “Absolutely.” He paused and looked awkwardly away. “And I wouldn’t worry. I think you can do anything.”

  There was a sudden obstruction in her throat. “Tracy, I—”

  At the same time he said. “Mercedes.”

  And then they were in each other’s arms and kissing passionately. Panting breaths, moaning cries. She realized with shock they were hers. She wanted to tear off the confining suit, crawl inside him. Her belly seemed filled with molten honey. His arms were trembling, his mouth hungrily seeking hers. He kissed her eyes, his lips played across her ears and his tongue darted into her ear. Her knees went weak. Then back to her lips. He gave a groan and whispered against her mouth:

  “Mercedes… I… I love you.”

  Inexpressible joy swept through her. I love you. I love you. I love you. She wanted to kick loose from the wall of the station where their boots held them. Go spinning and diving and spiraling through the air.

  “I love you too.” The words were out before she had time to consider and deep inside a small voice warned this was unwise. She pushed it aside and melted back into his embrace. They kissed and time stood still. Ironically it was he who reminded her of her duty.

  “We… we better get going.”

  “Yes, yes.” She tried to smooth her hair and realized that was silly.

  Mercedes checked the cosmódromo schematics, and picked a spoke that would bring them into the ring at a point relatively close to the gelato store. Because they were in a hurry they demagnetized their boots and tried freefall flight while holding hands. They made it with only a few unplanned tumbles, spins, giggles and wall crashes. She wondered if it was wrong to be giddy after all that had happened, but she had won and Tracy was here, and they were young and alive and in love.

  The bodies of the terrorist and the counter clerk had drifted to the same area above the buckets of gelato where they spun lazily in a macabre semi-embrace. Mercedes’ mad euphoria came crashing down around her and a whimper slipped out. Tracy laid a hand on her arm.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I didn’t even think about it. I just killed him. What does that make me?” she whispered.

  “Alive?”

  “That’s flippant!”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He raised her hand to his lips though she couldn’t feel the touch through the heavy gloves. “I think it says that you are very brave and that our instructors taught us very well. We react, do what we have to do, and brood about it later.”

  “Right. Later.” Mercedes kicked over to the storeroom door and gave it a shove, expecting resistance. It swung open and she stifled her annoyance. They couldn’t have found anything to block the entrance?

  Boxes of cones and paper bowls floated in the air along with twenty little girls, the nun and Cipriana. There was no sign of Danica. The tiny room was also filled with floating gobbets of vomit and drops of blood. Cipriana gave a wordless cry of joy and launched herself at Mercedes only to get hit with vomit on one cheek and go into a spin as she wiped it furiously away.

  “Oh gross! Oh God, gross!”

  The little girls began to wail, the sad gull-like cries interspersed with calls of “I want to go home!” “I want my mommy!”

  “Let’s get you all out of this muck. Tracy—” Mercedes began.

  “I’ll get the sister to a hospital,” he said. As usual he understood without her having to spell it out.

  He left with the unconscious woman. Mercedes looked after him for a long moment until a touch on her elbow by Cipriana brought her back to the present.

  “So, you’re going to have to tell me everything,” Cipriana said.

  “I will once we take care of these kids,” Mercedes promised. “Okay, everybody. We’re going to play a game. All of you hold hands.” She scanned the little faces and picked the little redheaded girl who seemed the calmest and had said she loved freefall. “And you—what’s your name?”

  “Nihala.”

  “Okay, Nihala, you’re going to hold my hand, and I’m going to take us all in a long line to the park.”

  “I want to get down,” a girl sobbed.

  “And we will soon, but it’ll be fun in the park. We’ll play like birds in the trees. Okay. Everybody take hands.”

  Cipriana helped and eventually they had the kids in a long human chain. It was awkward and there were a few bumped heads as they made their way out of the gelato store and into the park. Mercedes was relieved to see station personnel in their grey and maroon uniforms moving through the buildings. Once they were spotted people arrived to help with the children. One thing that could be depended upon—League citizens would always spring into action and care for kids.

  Once the girls were handed off Mercedes and Cipriana retreated to a park bench, grabbed hold and hung there. “So where is Dani?” Mercedes asked.

  Cipriana shrugged. “I haven’t got a clue. She was weirdly calm during the crisis…”

  “Wow. That seems so unlike her.”

  “I know, right? But when the announcement came that the station was once more under League control she took off like a cat running from a hose.”

  Unbidden a sharp and vivid memory came to mind. Dani already tightly gripping a freefall ring on the wall of the gelato store while Mercedes and her other two ladies struggled to find handholds. Dani—awkward Dani who put the least amount of effort into any exercise and any assignment. Dani who complained daily about everything she was missing at home. That Dani beat them all out to find a handhold?

  Unless she knew what was coming.

  An emotion cold as death gripped Mercedes.

&
nbsp; * * *

  Ernesto had secured himself to a chair in the cosmódromo’s hospital waiting room when Tracy kicked through the door with the sister in his arms. The nun had regained consciousness during their leaping journey to the hospital, and through lips gone white with pain thanked him for his help. Hospital staff wasted no time in taking command of the situation. A male doctor had made a quick exam, then ordered the nurse assisting him to locate a female physician even if it was an alien. The trio vanished through the doors and Tracy settled into a chair next to his classmate.

  “Hell of a day,” he said, but nothing could dampen his mood. Mercedes loves me. She loves me. It was like a hum that ran through everything, made colors brighter and life sweeter.

  “Yeah. You can say that again,” Ernesto sighed.

  Tracy found himself fascinated by the slow movement of the tap-pads and potted plants that were floating around the lobby. For a hospital it was a pleasant place with one wall of windows tinted a pale green. An entertainment screen hung on one wall and was playing a rerun of an old comedy show that had been popular a decade or so ago. The clerk at the front desk was watching the news on his ScoopRing. Tracy hadn’t been in a hospital since that final visit before his mother died. It was bringing back memories of a skeletal figure, her sweet voice reduced to a thread. His father in tears and Granddad berating a nurse. The cold in the waiting room and the odors brought it all back and he shuddered.

  Tracy finally stirred himself to ask, “How’s Davin?”

  “They took him into surgery. They need to trim off the bottom of the arm. The suit didn’t seal as quickly as hoped so there’s a lot of damage to the tissue from the cold and vacuum.”

  “They told you all that?”

  “No. I saw the arm, or what was left of it, when they took him out of the suit.”

  “Do you think he’ll come back to school?”

  Ernesto shrugged. “He could with a good prosthetic. Question is—will he want to?” Ernesto shot Tracy a sideways glance. “Has Hugo’s family been informed?”

  Tracy shook his head. “I haven’t done it.”

  “Did you ever deal with the body?”

  “No.” Tracy then added, “I should go do that.” But he found himself unwilling and almost unable to move. Fatigue had hit him like a hammer between the eyes. “But first I need your advice.”

  “Okay.”

  “Should I recover the body or cut it loose?”

  “Jesus! You want me to make a call like that?”

  “Well, I can’t. Not all on my own.”

  Ernesto leaned forward and closed his hands between his knees. “You know the family?”

  “A bit.”

  “What would hurt less?”

  Tracy thought about the loud, boisterous Devris clan. “Not seeing him… like that.”

  Ernesto rubbed a hand across his face as if trying to wipe away fatigue. “It’s just meat at this point. Hugo is gone. His soul gathered to heaven.”

  “So let them remember him as he was?” Ernesto nodded.

  Tracy unclipped from the chair. Ernesto’s hand shot out and gripped his arm, holding him in place. They formed a human right angle with Tracy floating horizontal to Ernesto. They were face to face. “There’s going to be an inquiry,” the marqués said.

  “Yeah, and this is news how?”

  “They’re going to want to know why the cable snapped.”

  It felt like a trickle of ice water had gone down Tracy’s back. “I take it you have a theory?”

  “More than a theory. I ran some numbers. The cable was secured just over the bay doors…” Ernesto’s voice trailed away.

  “The bay doors I weakened with a missile and then rammed,” Tracy said slowly.

  “Yes.”

  “So I damaged the structural integrity.” He tried to keep his voice flat and emotionless but inwardly he was quaking. He had killed his friend.

  Despite his efforts Ernesto seemed to sense Tracy’s turmoil. “All the jinking the station was doing didn’t help. It’s nobody’s fault. Well it’s these assholes’ fault—”

  “But the FFH will blame the dirty intitulado!” Tracy broke Ernesto’s hold and pushed away. Harder than he intended. He ended up halfway across the lobby without any convenient surface to use and even out of reach of the furnishings. He fired the suit jets only to have them sputter and die before his boots could connect with the metal-infused floor. The helpless spinning just added to his grief and fury.

  Ernesto untethered from the chair, magnetized the boots on his armor and clumped over to Tracy. He dragged him down until Tracy’s boots connected. “Not if they don’t know.” His voice was low and intense.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Hugo is dead. Davin’s been badly injured. Between shock, trauma and anesthesia his memories are going to be garbled. Only you and I know you fired at and then rammed those doors—”

  “The Infierno was crumpled—”

  “And Mercedes took it out and fought a battle. Who’s to say when that happened? I’m not planning on telling. Are you?”

  The anger leached out of him. Tracy dashed the betraying moisture from his eyes. “I can’t believe… you’d do that—”

  “If it weren’t for your planning and Mercedes’ skills we’d all be dead now along with everyone on this cosmódromo.”

  “Boho knows. He was monitoring our communications.”

  “I expect Boho will follow my lead. It’s hard to look like a big damn hero when you stayed behind and let a girl fight for you.”

  “So you saw what I saw.”

  Ernesto nodded. “And we’re never, ever going to talk about it again.” The bright smile eased the tension in his face. “And hey, if we should end up serving under him we can depend on him to keep us out of danger. Better probably than somebody who is more courageous.”

  31

  THE BEST YOU CAN HOPE FOR

  “It seemed like every other building was in lockdown, but not our store. We were the target.”

  “Well of course you were,” Boho said. “But they clearly didn’t want you dead. Probably wanted to use you as a bargaining chip with your father.”

  It was just the two of them in the small observation lounge. Mercedes had shed the battle armor and was once more dressed in her uniform. She longed for a shower to wash away the sweat that coated her entire body, but that would have to wait until the station could resume its spin. She had no idea how to bathe in freefall. They were floating face to face, but it was dim in the lounge and she could barely make out his features.

  “It sure didn’t feel that way at the time, but based on what happened with those missiles… I think you’re right but for the wrong reason. But let me finish what I started to tell you—”

  He didn’t. He interrupted and asked, “Why were you even in the ring?”

  She smothered her irritation and answered, “Zeng had set up this field trip. I didn’t want to do it. I thought it was too soon. Particularly with such little kids, but Dani was all gung-ho which is so unlike her, and that’s what I wanted to discuss.”

  “Okay, I’m listening.”

  Mercedes desperately wished she could pace. Movement helped her focus and marshal her thoughts. She used Boho’s shoulder to launch herself at the wall behind her. She tapped it with the toe of her boot and flew to the other wall. Another touch and back again. Boho’s head followed her like a cat watching a feather as she ping-ponged back and forth.

  “Dani knew the station was going to lurch. I’m sure of it. She had a grip on a handhold before it occurred.”

  “Dani in league with Hidden World terrorists?” Boho threw back his head and laughed, which sent him tumbling.

  “Which means they weren’t terrorists, Boho,” Mercedes snapped. “Listen to me. There was no way for me to evade both missiles. My chaff didn’t take them. They self-destructed.” That had his attention. He had stopped laughing and was groping for a handhold. “And then there’s the su
icide of the remaining attackers. Terrorists would have wanted a big public trial, a lot of ballyhoo and publicity to air their grievances.”

  He was looking stricken. “Oh, shit. Pardon me.”

  “No, I think that pretty much sums it up.”

  “So, we’re looking for somebody who wasn’t willing to go so far as to kill the Emperor’s eldest daughter, but wanted her endangered,” Boho mused.

  “But why and to what end?” Mercedes said. Boho was muttering, running a hand across his face. “What are you thinking?” Mercedes demanded.

  “Forcing you onto the throne has damaged your father’s popularity—”

  “People are really that upset about me? I know the press were huffing but—”

  “Oh yeah. My dad hears it all the time.”

  “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “That’s because you’re not in our clubs.”

  “And that’s the problem, isn’t it? We aren’t in your clubs.” She had stopped kicking off and now hung aimlessly twisting in the air. “What are they saying?”

  “That this social experiment endangers the League. That the troops won’t follow you. That the aliens will get uppity and come for their money and their wives, and do unnatural experiments on their kids.”

  “That’s just stupid.”

  “Yeah, but that’s how fear works. If you’d all gotten captured there would have been holos of you tearfully asking for help. Your dad sends in the fusileros. Terrorists flee—”

  “I get sent home. Cousin Musa is once again heir.”

  “But if they killed you all the sympathy would swing back to your father.”

  Her rage had curdled into exhaustion and sadness. “Dani,” she said thickly. “How could she?”

  Boho shrugged. “They must have made her a very attractive offer.”

  Mercedes grasped at a hopeful straw. “Or maybe they threatened her. Or her family. She might have been forced to be part of this.”

  Boho caught her by the hand and pulled her close. “Come on, Mer, don’t be naive. We’ve known Dani since we were little kids. If somebody had threatened her she’d have been a watering pot.”

  What he’d said was true though she hated to acknowledge it. She gave a reluctant nod. “So what do we know so far? Dani was involved which means her father was too.”