Alex nodded in acknowledgement.
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “The important thing is, we can trust her completely. She may come off as a bit cold, but it’s a defense mechanism. Mia’s a good person.”
She nodded again. “If you say so.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Because you trust me.”
“If you had intended to deceive me, you would have simply promised the ship would be safe on Seneca. There’s no reason I can think of for you to go to all this trouble other than my peace of mind.”
He sighed, let go of her hand and returned his gaze to his plate. “Right. As long as it’s logical.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you trust me.”
Her gazed dropped to her own plate. “I told you, I trust—”
“Did you think I sleep with all the women and half the men on every mission?”
She swallowed a groan. Were they really going to do this? “The possibility had occurred to me.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Are you saying you never…?”
“No, I’m not. But I don’t make a habit of it, and…frankly, I’ve rarely been in enough of a relationship for it to matter to anyone.”
She leapt out of the chair and snatched her plate up to carry it to the sink. “Well I wouldn’t want to start cramping your style now—” She cut herself off, wincing at how biting it sounded.
He appeared at her side an instant later. “No. You don’t get to do that.”
She didn’t look at him. “Do what?”
“Project your worst fears about what I could be onto me as though they were somehow real.”
Was he right? Was that what she was doing? The day before—and night—had been near to magical. Comfortable and romantic and affectionate and most decidedly hot. Despite the alien threat hanging over them, she had slept more soundly and peacefully entwined in his arms than she had in months. Now she was behaving like a drama queen, all bitchy and possessive?
She paused, her plate halfway to the washer rack; she set it in the sink and faced him. “You’re right. And I don’t care who you slept with, I truly don’t. I’m glad you did—I’m getting to reap the considerable benefits of you honing your skills.” She tried a little half-grin, but his expression refused to lighten.
“I’m sorry I snapped. You didn’t deserve it. I’m merely on edge because of everything going on and, well, because I’m not entirely in control of my situation. I don’t like being dependent on you—on anyone. But I’m not…you don’t need to explain yourself to me. Really.”
He reached up to run fingertips along the curve of her face. Damn but his touch still sent shivers up her spine. “What if I need to explain myself? I find I don’t want you to think ill of me.”
She shifted her head and placed a soft kiss on his wrist. “I don’t. Promise. Now go get showered. We’ll be there soon.”
He regarded her for another moment, his expression unreadable, then nodded and headed down the stairs.
She sank against the counter and let her head drop to her chest. What was she doing? Jealousy and possessiveness weren’t like her at all. They were both adults, and neither of them was coming into this without baggage.
Yes, she was edgy from not being absolutely and unquestionably in total control of her situation. But that was her problem, not his. If she didn’t get her act together she was liable to run him off before whatever this might be between them had even gotten started good.
She took a deep breath and let it out, long and slow. Then she pushed off the counter and went downstairs, dropped her clothes on the floor, joined him in the shower and proceeded to make it very clear just how much she didn’t think ill of him.
53
EARTH
VANCOUVER
* * *
“GOLD DOUBLOON FOR your thoughts.”
Richard smiled in response to the voice at his ear, relaxing momentarily against the arms at his shoulders. “Tell you what. Buy me lunch and I’ll bare my soul.”
“It’s a deal.”
He laughed a little as he turned from the window. “I should warn you, I’m a married man.”
Will glanced over his shoulder as they followed the maître-d’ to the table. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
After they had been seated and their glasses filled, Richard exhaled and leaned back in the chair. “Thanks for meeting me for lunch. It’s a welcome respite.”
Will shrugged while he studied the menu. “Well, since the Demeter project is on hold due to the war I find I have a bit of free time at the moment.”
“Have you remodeled our house yet?”
“Not yet, but if I don’t have a paying project by next week I’m not making any promises. I’ve been thinking the wall between the kitchen and the dining area is totally unnecessary.”
“Fair enough.” He paused. “You know, they’re going to have to rebuild the base on Arcadia. Not that I’m eager to have you so far away, but if you’re interested I can—”
“No.” Will’s head shook emphatically. “For one, I never want to trade on your name or position. For another, I would go insane inside of a week from the ridiculous bureaucratic entanglements and regulations and procedures of working for the military. I appreciate the thought, but no.”
“Money isn’t a concern. You could simply take it easy and relax for once. Radical idea, I realize.”
The waiter interrupted them to place bread on the table and take their orders. The restaurant was fancy enough to eschew automated ordering for old-fashioned personal service. It was the sort of thing you didn’t realize you missed until you encountered it again.
When the waiter had departed Will raised an eyebrow. “With a war on, soldiers dying, you working sixteen-hour days and aliens on the horizon? The guilt would be suffocating.”
“Fine, I recognize when I’m fighting a losing battle.” His voice trailed off as he studied his salad. He had told Will about Alex’s troubling discovery, despite the fact it was classified information, because it’s what married couples did—share things which truly mattered.
“So what is on your mind? Other than the obvious.”
Richard blew out a breath through pursed lips. “The damned assassination. The Palluda attack. The war. I know, everyone else has moved on, but I’ve been in this line of work almost forty years now and nothing about any of it makes a lick of sense.”
“Okay. Why?”
“Why? Let me count the ways….”
“Sure. Still, I’d be willing to bet there’s one thing always jumping to the front of your mind. One niggling incongruity which sets off all the others.”
He chuckled. The mind of an engineer at work, using structured failure analysis on every problem. The chuckle faded as he realized Will was, as usual, correct. “Okay. For starters, Candela. The assassin. Putting aside the fact he fits the profile of exactly zero assassins in history, which is another issue altogether, he made no effort to conceal his identity during the attack. Arguably he even flaunted it, leaving his fingerprints and DNA on half a dozen hands and practically mugging for the camera. So then—” he broke off when the waiter appeared with their lunch.
After taking a bite of the fried halibut he continued. “So then why did he work so hard to slip away unnoticed and elude the pursuit, only to commit suicide immediately thereafter?”
Will paused the spoon filled with chili just shy of his mouth. “Because he didn’t want to spend the next year in an Alliance prison cell, paraded out every so often in shackles for the media and otherwise awaiting his execution?”
“Admittedly, a good reason. But he could have accomplished the same objective by stopping and pointing a weapon at one of the agents pursuing him, or attacking one. If he intended to die anyway, why was it so important he get away first?”
Will nodded intently; the matter had gained his attention now. “And if he intended to die anyway, why was it so important the
world know he committed the murder?”
“Exactly.” Richard ran a hand along his jaw. “There’s something else. Alex showed up at Headquarters the other day with a Senecan intelligence agent.”
Will’s eyes shot up. An odd shadow passed through them; it was gone after a blink, though his brow had furrowed in surprise. “Are you serious?”
“Quite. We arrested him, she broke him out of detention, they’ve disappeared off-planet…it’s a long story. But the most disconcerting part is, he claimed to be here to ask for our help. He and Alex believe the assassination was not sanctioned by any Senecan authority, nor the Palluda attack by any Alliance one—something I think Miriam is beginning to suspect as well. They insist the entire war is a setup perpetrated by someone else, though God knows who that might be.”
“Damn.” Will sank deeper in his chair. “Is there any chance they’re right?”
“I…have to concede it’s not outside the realm of possibility. Given all the questions surrounding these events, perhaps more than possible.”
Will delivered a look across the table. Firm, almost challenging. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Ha.” He swallowed. “Alex asked me for the autopsy reports on Santiagar. She seemed to think if the Senecans were able to examine the details they may be able to prove Candela wasn’t the assassin.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t give them to her.”
“I couldn’t. It would be a violation of the Military Code and my professional responsibility and arguably treason. A senior Alliance military officer passing classified files to a Senecan spy? I’d be dishonorably discharged, not to mention probably spend the rest of my life in prison.”
“But Richard…what if they’re right? Millions of people are going to die in this war, it’s inevitable. What if you can prevent that from happening?”
He met Will’s gaze and found it animated by a startling intensity. “What are you suggesting I do? Simply hand over the files and hope for the best?”
“Let me do it.”
“What?”
“Give me the files. I’ll send Alex a message—from the company even, something official-sounding related to her loft—and encrypt the files inside it. She’s a smart girl, she’ll figure it out. Or her spy friend will.”
He reached over and grasped Richard’s hand in his. “Look. I realize if it all goes off the rails you could still be implicated. But at least it will provide you some protection by putting a layer between you and the Senecans.”
“Will, why would you do this? Why get involved?”
“Because I want to believe Alex is right. I want to believe this war is a mistake neither side intended. Call me crazy, but I want peace. I don’t think the Senecans are bad guys—not en masse. And if there is an opportunity for us to save all those lives, I want to help make it happen.”
A heavy breath fell from Richard’s lips, until it felt like his lungs, his entire body, had become an empty void. He’d been a lowly major in the First Crux War, responsible for only a handful of soldiers and insulated from the weighty decisions which came with power. Now there was a chance, albeit a slim one, the fate of millions rested in his hands.
His eyes rose to find his husband’s staring at him with affection, but also conviction. He nodded. “Give me two hours.”
54
ROMANE
INDEPENDENT COLONY
* * *
THEY HAD BARELY MADE IT back upstairs in time for the approach and landing on Romane, on account of the unexpectedly extended and amazing shower.
Mia stepped through the hangar bay door seconds after Alex opened the hatch and they disembarked. He was certain she had been waiting outside and timed her entry appropriately. She wore a flattering yet conservative black pantsuit complemented by a silver top, her long black hair sleek and straight over one shoulder.
It still sometimes amazed him how thoroughly she had transformed herself from a scruffy street rat hacker and thief to a wealthy, respected businesswoman. He had meant it twelve years ago when he told her she showed potential beyond her circumstances, but the extent to which it had turned out to be true surprised even him.
She met them halfway and planted a quick kiss on the cheek. “Caleb, it’s been too long.” She had retreated before he could respond and was greeting Alex with an impressively genuine smile and extended hand. “Mia Requelme. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Alex accepted the proffered hand somewhat coolly, though he suspected it was no different from how she greeted most strangers. “Alex Solovy. Thank you for indulging us, and on such short notice.”
Mia sighed in feigned drama. “I’ve learned by now with Caleb—it’s always short notice. But it’s no trouble. Very nice ship you have there. One of a kind, I’d wager.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“I’ve seen a lot of expensive ships pass through here. I suspect you are correct.” She gestured to several control panels along the wall. “If you’ll follow me, you can review our standard procedures and the special services we offer. I understand security is of utmost concern.”
“It is.”
Mia had clearly already surmised the ship was Alex’s baby, the extra measures he’d requested were on her account and when it came to the ship she was the one in charge. The ability to size up a customer and their proclivities in a matter of seconds was no doubt one reason she had done so well for herself.
Satisfied things were on track to proceed relatively smoothly, he looked at Mia as they crossed the spacious bay together. The Class I bays were the largest and best-equipped offered, not merely by her but by anyone on Romane, and every aspect of it shone. “I don’t suppose you happened to bring my pack I left here?”
“Please. It’s in my office.”
Alex had dived into the information at the control center, quite intently so. He drew to her side and leaned in close. “The pack contains some personal weapons and tools—I’ve sort of scattered extras across the galaxy, I’m afraid. Once I grab it, I am going to go buy some clothes, because I’m sure you are beyond ready to see me in anything other than this shirt. It’s been a decent shirt, but I’m considering burning it.”
She gave him a vague nod in response, her focus still on the details of the hangar bay. He looked over his shoulder. “Mia, after we run by your office can you come back and get Alex set up with what she needs?”
Her expression veered dangerously close to a smirk. “I’d be happy to do so.”
He leaned in yet closer, squeezed Alex’s hand and placed a delicate kiss at the base of her ear. It was important to him she feel comfortable in the situation, and know he was here for her and only her. “I’ll be back soon.”
Her eyes cut up at him with a distracted glance. “Okay. Have fun.”
Mia spun around as soon as the door to her office closed to stare at him in disbelief and perhaps dismay. “Caleb, darling, what have you gotten yourself into?”
He crouched down beside the pack on the floor and unzipped it. He wasn’t afraid she had removed anything, but he needed to remind himself of its contents. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re referring to, Mia darling.”
“Miriam Solovy’s daughter? Are you kidding me? I appreciate that you’re adventurous, but I didn’t think you were insane.”
He chuckled darkly while he rummaged through the pack. “How the hell do you know who her mother is?”
She glared at him as if insulted. “I’m paid very well to stay current on many details regarding the power players in this little galaxy of ours. And your girlfriend’s mother is one of them. You do realize you’re at war against the Alliance now, right?”
He shrugged, zipped up the pack and stood. “Your point?”
She stepped forward and grasped his hands in hers. “I have a soft spot for you, Caleb. I always have. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
He smiled. “They’ve already arrested me. What else can they do?”
She didn�
��t. “They can kill you, for one.”
“I’m much too good to let that happen. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”
“We?” She dropped his hands and took a step back. “Oh my god, you’re in love with her.”
He exhaled harshly—more harshly than he had intended. “Don’t be absurd. I—”
“You are, you’re completely in love with her. I can’t believe I didn’t spot it immediately.” She laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day, Caleb Marano in love. She really must be something.”
“Just stop, okay? You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She definitely did not know what she was talking about. How could she?
She nodded dramatically, eyes wide in mocking. “Of course, my mistake. Whatever you say.”
“Mia….”
“No, I concede the point. You’re not in love. Silly of me to even suggest it. Now I’d better get out to the bay lest your girlfriend start suspecting we’re in here being bad.”
He reached out and grabbed her arm as she turned to go. “Wait. We’re renting a ship to take to Seneca, and odds are we’ll be there a few days. There’s something else I need you to do for me while we’re gone. I’ll pay you whatever you need for it.”
“Caleb, you know I never charge you.”
“You haven’t heard what it is yet.”
Mia returned, sans Caleb, after several minutes.
She was rather beautiful, Alex thought. Objectively speaking. Of average height but with exquisite bone structure, her olive skin complimented vaguely Asian features. She carried herself with studied confidence, yet her eyes carried a hint of…Alex wasn’t sure. Roughness? Grittiness? Though she gave a flawless impression of it, the woman had not been born into wealth. Of that much Alex was certain.
“How’s everything look?”
“Excellent. You have a very sophisticated facility here. I must admit I’m impressed. But can we go over the additional security measures?”
“Absolutely.” Mia opened a new display in one of the panels. “A cam monitors the door from the outside, which only I—and now you and Caleb—can access. As you see, this is the sole entrance to the bay except for airborne entry, but while the bay is occupied the force field is one-way. Your handprint here and this door becomes operable solely by you and I.”
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