Pico's Crush

by Carol Van Natta

  She’d forgotten how enjoyable it was to be around someone who delighted in the things that most people took for granted or became jaded about. He probably had no idea how much his presence had anchored their unit. They’d all been so young and idealistic back then.

  “What does Dhorya think of Etonver? I think I heard she and Pico moved there with you a few years ago. It must be nice to finally be together.”

  His face lost all expression. “She and I are divorced. She moved back to Vaylamoinen two years ago.”

  Andra winced at the tightly controlled emotion she heard in his voice. Obviously, the divorce hadn’t been his idea. She reached out to touch the back of his hand. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you.” She didn’t try to hide her respect for his loss or her sympathy for his pain, because that’s what gunnin did for one another. Only a fellow gunnin would truly understand. Losing a loved one was the worst.

  He turned his hand over to squeeze her fingers briefly before letting go. “Harder for Pico. Dhorya said some unforgivable things to her before she left. In a few years, I’ll probably feel sorry for her, because she’s never going to be happy with what she has or where she is, but right now, I’m still mad at her.”

  Andra had a momentary impulse to give Jerzi a hug and tell him… she didn’t know what. She rubbed her palms on her thighs. “I know what you mean. I was furious with Da’vin for accepting that final mission right before our wedding and getting killed.”

  He jerked back in his seat and stared at her in shock. “What?”

  It was her day to put her gravity boot in it, apparently. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. It was five years ago, back in ‘36. A year after you left the service.” She breathed through the familiar weight that bottomed out in her stomach.

  “What happened?”

  At least the distance of time and a complete change of career had made the story easier to tell. “A jack crew was selling shipkillers and munitions on Penrius D’Or’s space station. High Command said it was a small op and ordered a fast takedown. Da’vin and I were about to take leave for the wedding trip, and Da’vin felt guilty about leaving the unit shorthanded, so she volunteered for recon. I wasn’t letting her go without boom-down expertise, and Shinn took comms. The jack crew was small, all right, but the whole station was corrupt. We got caught trying to get the hell out. Shinn and I made it because Da’vin sacrificed herself for us.”

  Jerzi met her gaze and held it. “I’m sorry for your loss, Andra.” His voice was quiet and sincere.

  “Thank you,” she said, and took a moment to acknowledge his respect, which meant a lot more than the plethora of platitudes she’d heard at the time or since. She quirked a smile at him. “It was one hell of an engagement party, though, wasn’t it?”

  The corners of his lips curved upward. “Legendary. Dom DeBayaud talked about it for years. Of course, that may have been because, when he passed out after his marathon with the exciter twins in the low-G sex room, someone deep-inked a large, fluffy pink kitten across his ass cheeks.”

  Andra laughed. “Did he think you did it?”

  “No, he knew I didn’t. I’d already left by then, on my way home. He suspected everyone else, including the joyhouse owners, at one time or another.” Jerzi’s smile grew wistful. “He was a good friend, and I still miss him.”

  The center console chimed to let them know the traffic system was ready for them and displayed a thirty-second countdown.

  Andra secured the seat webbing across herself and gave Jerzi a thumb’s up sign. He did the same, then eased the flitter out of the stacker and into a hover. He grinned when the traffic system took control, and leaned back in evident satisfaction.

  Andra let herself be talked into spending the evening with Jerzi, Pico, and Valenia. Ordinarily, she’d have turned down the offer, to avoid any appearance of favoritism, but Pico, clever young woman that she was, had stocked the apartment pantry and cold box with quality ingredients, and Jerzi had offered to cook. He’d always been a damn fine cook.

  Afterward, Jerzi had insisted on flying her home, and she’d agreed. It would be impossible to get an autocab on the night before the Winter Solstice holiday, and the rain had returned. She still wasn’t used to winters without cold weather.

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” said Jerzi as he set the flitter’s console to display a holo of their progress through the traffic, “how did you end up here, of all places?” The holo’s light gave his face a tinge of blue, as if he’d done one of the locally popular “native” body makeovers.

  She gave him a sardonic smile. “You mean, how did a ground-pounder gunnin like me make full professor?” She held up her hand to still his protest. “I know you don’t think like that, but you’d be surprised at how many do.”

  “Like Vestering?”

  “No, he thinks I want his job.” She shook her head in disgust. “Too political for me.”

  She put her foot on the soft seat and rested her elbow on her knee, enjoying the freedom to sprawl in an upscale flitter, instead of being jammed in, packing-case tight. “Like a lot of kids, I wanted to be an exploration spacer, so I got my B-level certificate in xenogeography. Once I actually met some of them, though, I couldn’t see being stuck on a ship with a bunch of arrogant wankers for years at a time. When I talked to the military, they liked my experience with explosives and recruited me for Forward Intelligence.”

  “Oh, that’s right, you worked summers at a mine. Minerals, or metals, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, rare earths,” she said, surprised that he remembered. “While I was in the unit, I went for a C-level in materials science so I could blow up more things. After Da’vin died, I buried myself in courses for D-level, so I’d have career options when my contract was up. Too many memories to stay in the military, and absolute zero interest in going home.”

  “And teaching?”

  She shrugged. “I like it. I’ve always been seduced by the potential I see in others.” Including what she’d seen in Jerzi, when they’d served together, but the galaxy would have to stop spinning before she’d admit that. The second cold beer she’d had after dinner had already made her too talkative.

  “Pico says you’re a good teacher, and she’s picky. Comes from growing up in University Town, I think.”

  It was a good bet. When the unit had been stationed there, practically every block had a private school or training center. The competition was fierce.

  “She’s a good kid…uh, person. Now that I know who she is, I remember her from when she was a child. Wise beyond her years.”

  The flitter banked left and descended to a lower level. Jerzi rotated the holo so he could better see the angle. He’d always been good at finding his way around.

  “She was born that way.” Jerzi smiled ruefully. “Most days, I think she’s more adult than I am.”

  “Oh, please,” Andra scoffed. “You settled down a lot sooner than the rest of the unit, much to everyone’s dismay.”

  Jerzi made a rude noise. “Dismay, huh? That must be why you all gave me so much shit about wanting to get married.”

  That was the Jerzi Adams she remembered, so good-looking and so good-natured, and a bit of an idiot.

  “We were jealous of you, compadre. Most of us could barely figure out how to have sex with someone more than once, much less a relationship.” She waved her fingers toward herself. “How do you think I got the name Lightning? Never strikes in the same place twice.” What could she say? She liked men and women, and she liked sex with either. “And there you were, being a husband in all but name, and a father. And if we didn’t want what you had, we wanted you. Why do you think we called you Crush?”

  “What?” He stared at her with blatant astonishment, then shook his head. “You’re chemmed.”

  “No, I’m not. The day you saved Dhorya Sankirna from that clusterfuck of drunken spacers, you were a goner. How could any of us compete with a rescued princess who made you feel like the white knight?”


  Andra realized the alcohol was loosening her overly-candid tongue way too much. She reached for a safer subject. “You, uhm, still lift weights, I see.” He was even bigger than when he’d been at her engagement party. His discipline, and determination to do it without body mods or sports chems, had gotten him teased mercilessly.

  He shrugged an impressive shoulder. “Keeps me grounded. Sometimes my brain won’t turn off.”

  Andra laughed. “I sync that. I run most mornings and try to hit a sparring studio at least once a week. Keeps me from hitting los burros at work.”

  “Speaking of jackasses, what’s the deal with your boss?”

  She snorted. “The O-Poly regents liked my ‘real life story,’ meaning they thought it would be good publicity, so they hired me for one of Vestering’s faculty slots outside of the normal process, and waived the probation period. He was going to dislike me anyway, but then I committed the sin of succeeding with a tedious lab course he dumped on me as a way to get me to move on.”

  “The Practical Applications course?”

  She nodded. “Romila was new in the Chemistry department, and she and I were in the same boat. Her department leader hated the ‘baby’ courses and dumped them on noobs like her. You know me, I love a challenge, and Romila was game, so we requested the same lab space and time period, and let the leaders think it was their idea to combine our courses for the next year and give us an extra budget to come up with a new curriculum.”

  Jerzi laughed. “Which, of course, you’d already done.”

  “Claro que sí. It went so well that now they’re pushing Vestering to open a second segment of the course he wanted to delete.”

  “Don’t underestimate sore losers,” said Jerzi, frowning. “A zifthead at La Plata tried to assault a friend of mine because he lost out on a promotion, then claimed she tried to stab him.”

  She repressed a loud sigh. What was it about her that made people like Jerzi, or Da’vin, for that matter, think she wanted or needed protecting? She’d had far too much of that from her family.

  “Burros are everywhere, Commander Crush,” she said, looking pointedly at him.

  Jerzi glanced at her. The flitter’s arrival signal sounded. He took control of the flitter and eased it down onto the rooftop airpad.

  He met her gaze with a contrite look. “Sorry. Pico calls it hovering.”

  It was hard to be mad at Jerzi for long. His heart had always been in the right place, even if he sometimes didn’t think.

  “Forgiven.” She swung a mock punch to his upper arm. “But next time, I’ll kick your ass.”

  He met her smile with a challenging grin. “You and what platoon, gunnin?”

  She unfastened the safety web. “You bring your analog railgun? ’Cause that’s the only way you’d rank me.”

  “I did. Pico said O-Poly has a range.”

  “Yeah, but it’s way too short for your purposes, and caters to noobs. Tell you what, I’ll take you to the longest range in town if you spot me two shots.” She waited to see if he took the bait.

  “I’ll be spotting you absolute zero, Subcaptain,” he said, and pointed to his eyes. “I know you still have oculars. Saw the reflection rings when we were getting in the flitter.” He smirked at her.

  She laughed and held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Even up.” She leaned forward to open the door.

  He touched her forearm. “Before you go, tell me what you really think about the accidents in the labs.”

  She sat back. “They feel fishy to me. Students can be careless, but not all of a sudden.” She frowned. “I’ve been keeping an eye out, but I don’t have a good a reason to be nosing about the Chem labs. I wish I could tell you something more definitive.”

  Jerzi looked thoughtful. “My security credentials are only good on Rekoria, and I’m not an investigator, but I’ve helped a friend do security assessments, so maybe I could look at the facilities.”

  Andra considered his offer. It would be good to take action, if only to rule out her suspicions. It might also reassure Jerzi that his daughter was safe. “Okay,” she said. “Since you’re a parent, I can take you on a tour of the labs after my nine-o’clock Materials Science B-level class, which Pico is in, the day after tomorrow. We can go to the range after that, if you’d like.” A yawn caught her by surprise.

  “That works for me. Let’s exchange ping refs so we can sync up for the tour, then go get some rest.”

  After he took off in the flitter and she let herself into her apartment, Andra found herself humming as she prepared for bed. A friendly competition with someone who she didn’t have to be on guard around would be a pleasant change from the petty intrigue and backbiting of academic politics. It didn’t hurt at all that Jerzi Adams could wear a full-body piety cloak and still look like a galaxy-class fitness model.

  Chapter 4

  * Space Station: Gulkaiyr * GDAT 3241.142 *

  Dixon Davidro leaned back in the creaky chair and put his feet up on the floating desk, in part to keep it from creeping slowly toward the door as if it had somewhere else to be.

  The huge panel on the far wall displayed a mesmerizing real-time view of the gas giant planet around which the Gulkaiyr Free Space Station orbited. The only thing free about the space station was its name. The view wall was the single amenity that made the modular rental suite worth the outrageous price. Space stations across the galaxy had a captive customer base, especially for layovers while waiting for the next ship out. Gulkaiyr was a rarity, a space station with no habitable planet in the system, so they upcharged for every possible thing beyond artificial gravity, breathable air, and potable water, the bare minimum required by Central Galactic Concordance law. The Citizen Protection Service was paying, of course, but it was a point of pride that his official expense reports were always conservative.

  Gulkaiyr Station’s primary appeal, besides being the only transfer hub at the edge of the Mizero Void, was its perennial failure to keep accurate records of credentials and ship registries. It was a good place to lose any pursuers, and made an excellent rendezvous location for his staff. He’d sent his newest contractor, a telepath, for a cleanup job, and it would be better if he wasn’t tracked back to their group. Dixon had won Xan’s undying loyalty by saving him from a total flatline session with a CPS minder enforcement team, owing to Xan’s habit of indiscriminately rooting in the minds of others for sexual memories.

  Of course, some of the austerity of his temporary accommodations could be sourced to Mr. Renner, who stood quietly in the corner, looking thunderous as usual. The marvelous analog collar around the man’s neck had audibly ratcheted tighter a few minutes ago, and a small rivulet of blood snaked down his impressively muscled barrel chest. The buildup of scars meant the collar’s razor-sharp edges cut into them more often, especially if Renner tugged at it.

  Unfortunately, Renner couldn’t be controlled by the usual methods, including any drugs Dixon had ever found. Not even Neirra, Dixon’s former pet healer, who could use her top-level talent to craft individually tailored drug protocols, had been able to develop a regimen that worked on Renner for more than an hour or two. After yet another nearly successful escape attempt by Renner, Dixon had worked with a fixer to devise the ingenious mechanical collar that tightened every hour unless reset, and only Dixon could do it. A side benefit was that Renner took his security responsibilities very seriously, since Dixon’s demise would be a death warrant for Renner as well. It was too bad that it had to be that way, but even after twenty years of service, Renner still hadn’t accepted that his destiny lay with Dixon. Some people were just too stubborn for their own good.

  The source of Renner’s present irritation seemed to be the hallway door Dixon had left open, since he didn’t want to be popping up and down letting his assistant Lamis, or the rest of the staff, in and out of his temporary office. It was a station upcharge to add biometric access so they could come and go at will, and no one else had any reason to bother him. He would have
put Renner on door duty, but he upset the rest of the staff.

  Dixon activated the percomp on the back of his wrist rather than his earwire. He preferred normal conversation over subvocalizing into his earwire. It was more civilized. “Georgie, my pet, have you any recommendations for me yet on the problem on Nila Marbela?” Another little problem that the CPS needed handled. He planned to see to it personally, since a week in a tropical resort would be a vast improvement over where they were now, and the less said about the frigid, flat city of Chagha’an Fodoli on Sanangerel, where he’d been last, the better.

  “Dixie! I’m glad you pinged. Do you want me to come and tell you? My room is too bright. Or I could bring the new small comp into your office and set it up on the desk. It’s pink, but I could change it. Or I could make a nice report with data tags and send it to you. Or I could–”

  Dixon interrupted Georgie’s rapid-fire delivery. “A report would be perfect, Georgie, and thank you.” They were going to have to go back to the old control drugs for Georgie. Forecasters didn’t usually need them, but Georgie was a special case.

  Dixon smiled. All his staff members were special. He had a gift for finding the value in minders who had been neglected or disdained and giving them opportunities to shine. It was win-win: He took care of them, and they took care of him.

  “Do you want the report now?” asked Georgie.

  “Yes, please.” Dixon infused his voice with the warmth that Georgie responded to best. “You’ve been very good today. Why don’t you find Auntie Lamis and have her give you a nice green pill?”

  “Okay, Dixie. Did you say you wanted the report now? I could read it to–”

  “I’d love it if you’d send it to me, Georgie.”

  He waited until he saw the report in his dataspace, then pinged Lamis to give Georgie two green pills. He needed to sleep off the effects of the experimental control drugs, and given his present condition, he’d be awake for days.