“I’m sorry.” Yas felt like a kid again standing with his head bowed in his father’s study as he listened to some lecture. His father turned the shoulder pat into a firm grip, and that took away some of the sting. “I didn’t want you to be implicated in that mess, sir. That horrible crime. I didn’t do it.” Yas leaned back from his mother so he could look into their eyes, needing to see if they believed him.
“Of course you didn’t,” his mother said.
“We knew you wouldn’t harm anyone,” his father said, “and for those who were in doubt, it all came out when that mob tortured and hanged President Chronis. I didn’t approve of that, of course, but after his own assassin outed him, it got ugly. And our guards didn’t care if we fought amongst ourselves. They said they were kidnapping people for the good of the station, but they had their own agenda. Everyone did. Shortsighted ignoramuses.” He shook his head.
Yas swallowed, relieved his parents hadn’t doubted him. And even if it was selfish, he was relieved someone else had killed Chronis. For a while, he’d feared Rache would do it as part of Yas’s request to have his name cleared. Then the man’s death would have been on Yas’s hands.
“But what is this about you working for mercenaries, dear?” his mother whispered, glancing at Chaplain, who was tapping his fingers against his rifle and shifting his weight impatiently.
“It’s a long story.” Yas wished he could explain it to them over dinner and help them get their home back in order, but it sounded like Rache wanted to leave right away. Yas hoped they would soon have surgeries done to replace their chips and heal those painful-looking gouges—fortunately, the failsafe sockets seemed to have prevented any obvious neural damage from the rough removals—so he would be able to contact them from anywhere in the system. “I’ll try to sum it up on the way to the shuttle bay.”
“About time,” Chaplain grumbled, heading off down the street.
Tambora revved her float chair to pass him, probably eager to learn the fate of her bodyguard and advisor.
As Yas and his parents trailed them, some of the tension of the day—no, of the last six months—slowly unknotted from his shoulders. His mother and father were safe, and though the fate of the station might still be up in the air, the inhabitants were no longer fighting each other. If Secretary Nguyen, or whoever else ended up in charge, was willing to clear him of the crime he’d never committed… maybe that would be the start of feeling like a man again. Even if his word meant he had to continue serving Rache, he would do it as an employee, not a fugitive hiding among criminals.
25
Kim encountered Yas on the way to the shuttle bay and talked with him for a few minutes, surprised he was heading back to the mercenary ship instead of staying and spending time with his parents. But he’d once mentioned a promise to serve Rache for five years. It looked like he intended to make good on that promise.
When they walked into the shuttle bay, he lifted a hand in farewell to her and walked toward the black-armored figure standing in front of an airlock farther down from Asger’s shuttle. Kim knew right away that it was Rache, even though his helmet was up. And she also noticed that his shuttle was docked in a different slot than it had been before. How many times had it come and gone while she, Casmir, Asger, and Rache had been dealing with the chaotic situation on the station? Had his men found the submarines they’d wanted? Would the Fedallah beat the Kingdom warships to the gate?
Rache’s helmet turned in her direction, and she realized she was standing near the door and staring at him.
She felt she should walk over and say something. Chi was safe, largely thanks to him, and even though Yas was Rache’s man more than he was a friend of Kim’s, she was pleased that Rache had helped his parents and made sure Casmir talked the secretary of education—would she truly become the new president?—into clearing his name.
A message popped up on her contact from Rache, and she jumped. She’d forgotten that she’d given him permission to contact her.
Are you gazing adoringly at me because you regret that we must now part ways? he asked. Or did I smear crumbs from my ration bar on my armor?
She walked across the bay toward him, not sure whether it would be appropriate to answer with snark or if she should be more serious, since she wanted to thank him.
He waited, facing her, not moving. Even though she didn’t spend a lot of time gazing into people’s eyes or studying their faces when they weren’t looking, she wished she could see his. Casmir had implied that Royal Intelligence knew who Rache was, at least the higher-level officers. Would he ever decide it didn’t matter if he let people see his face?
She stopped a couple of paces away from him. “Thank you for your assistance in retrieving Scholar Chi.”
The words came out more stiff and formal than she intended.
Rache bowed. “You’re welcome.”
“I am also glad that Dr. Peshlakai’s parents are safe and that he won’t be considered a criminal any longer in his own home. Will you release him from his obligation to serve on your ship?”
“Not unless another surgeon falls in my lap. Or at my feet under the café table, as the case was. Good doctors are hard to find.”
“Ah.”
“Was that a note of disapproval? I believe it was a fair tradeoff, though I’ll admit I took advantage of his desperate situation. As a mercenary captain who heads off into danger often, I find it hard to attract the interest of qualified medical professionals simply by putting want ads in the network news feeds.”
“Perhaps you’re not offering high enough pay.”
“I give a higher-than-average salary and include combat bonuses.”
“Perhaps you should change combat bonuses to bonuses for saving lives. The implication with combat is that your doctor will be required to march into battle with your troops. Doesn’t Yas usually hang out in sickbay until you bring people back?”
“Usually. I’ll consider your suggestion.”
She looked at the dark mask inside his helmet and shook her head. “I feel ridiculous talking to someone without a face.”
“And yet you’re here. I’m honored.” Rache bowed again. “I believe I did suggest a situation in which I’d be willing to unmask for you.”
“The odds of us finding a way to have a private dinner date seem poor.”
“Hm, unfortunate, but I suppose that is true, since neither you nor Casmir has decided to accept my job offer.”
“If he keeps finding ways to irk Jager, he may yet need to seek off-planet employment.”
“And you?”
“I don’t want to be a mercenary.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to see how large my combat bonuses are before dismissing the job offer?” He sounded amused, not offended.
Kim was certain he didn’t expect her to sign on, so that was a relief. “I’m arrogant enough to believe that the work I’m doing is important and can be of benefit to large portions of humanity. It already has been to many space-faring people. I need to operate within the system so I can continue to do that work, ideally from my laboratory back on Odin. Which I miss a great deal.”
“In that case, may I give you a brief tour of my airlock chamber before you depart?” Rache extended a hand into the compact space that was suitable for a couple of armored men to stand in while waiting for the air to cycle.
The word closet came to mind.
“Just the airlock chamber?” Kim raised her eyebrows.
“My men are in the shuttle proper. You don’t want to tour them. Trust me.” Rache stepped into the airlock chamber and closed the inner hatch, tapping a button that dropped a cover over the Glasnax porthole. He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed back at her, waiting to see if she would join him.
Kim looked over her shoulder, wondering if there were witnesses. Casmir had walked into the bay, but he was talking to Secretary Nguyen and Princess Tambora, who sat in her float chair, flanked by a dark-skinned man and woman. The missing
bodyguard and advisor? Hopefully, their ship was intact, and Tambora wouldn’t need Kim’s or Casmir’s help any longer. Kim didn’t want to see her stuck on a Kingdom ship where she might end up being used as some pawn or bargaining chip.
Secretary Nguyen was gesturing animatedly, and Kim thought Casmir might be wrapped up in the conversation and wouldn’t notice her slipping away for a few minutes, but he spotted her looking at them.
“What are you doing?” he mouthed, waving toward Rache’s shuttle and then pointing three times at Asger’s shuttle.
Kim held up a finger, trusting that he would be involved in that conversation for a few more minutes and that she wasn’t delaying their departure. She stepped into the airlock with Rache, ignoring the incredulous gape that Casmir sent across the bay.
Rache pointed toward the small panel with the controls to close the outer hatch. Letting her decide if she was willing to lock herself in with him instead of presuming to do it himself?
For good or ill, she no longer worried that she had anything to fear from him on a personal level. She did worry about what might happen if he continued to fight against the Kingdom and she continued to get drawn into the Kingdom’s military endeavors. But she doubted he would do or say anything inappropriate to her.
Kim hit the button, and the hatch swung shut. She hoped Casmir wouldn’t race over and bang on it, demanding to know what insanity had ensnared her mind. He probably wouldn’t with Tambora and Nguyen watching. She hoped.
A red light came on, so they weren’t standing in the dark. Rache’s helmet retracted, folding into its niche on the back of his armor, and she watched with a mixture of curiosity, anticipation, and wariness as he lifted a hand to remove his hood and mask.
Casmir had seen him without the mask a couple of times now, she reminded herself, and she was positive he would have mentioned if Rache was horribly maimed or had a bunch of astroshaman mods or tattoos or anything out of the ordinary.
And that was what the removal of the mask revealed. Rache wasn’t exactly ordinary, but there was nothing strange about his face. His eyes were more intense and focused than Casmir’s, and also more intense and focused than those of twenty-one-year-old David Lichtenburg from the race photos. His face was leaner than it had been then, making his cheekbones more prominent and his jaw chiseled and strong. He did have a few faint scars, but they were more the kind that would intrigue someone into asking what had happened than anything that detracted from his looks. She wasn’t sure she would call him handsome—intense was the word that kept coming to mind—but he wasn’t unappealing. If anything, she found herself looking more closely at him than she could remember ever looking at anyone else. And for some reason, she thought of the fact that he’d read the books she’d written without even knowing she was the author—or that the author was female.
“Are you comparing me to Casmir?” Rache asked, his typical dryness in his tone.
“A little, but more to the pictures we found of David Lichtenburg after winning air-bike races.”
“Ah, you looked me up? I’m honored. I would bow, but in these close quarters, I fear I’d clunk you in the chest with my head, and you may consider that overly familiar.” He raised his eyebrows, a hint of humor lessening the intensity in his eyes, though he was still watching her closely.
She had a feeling he wanted her to say she wouldn’t mind chest-clunking. She was conflicted over whether she would or not.
She’d never wanted a man—or a woman—to touch her, her brief experimentations as a university student doing nothing to excite her, and she’d always assumed that her libido was as odd and atypical as the rest of her. Occasionally, she regretted that sexual interest seemed a prerequisite for romantic relationships, because it wasn’t as if she always preferred to be alone. Sometimes she did, but sometimes she wondered what it would be like to have a life partner. For a lot of years, Casmir had somewhat filled that role, and she’d always been relieved that he hadn’t seemed to care that she didn’t want a physical relationship with him, but she knew he wanted to find a true romantic partner one day and to have children. And she knew she would be lonely when he departed, and she was left occupying a house by herself.
But was that a reason to pursue a physical relationship with someone, when she feared it would be far closer to enduring than enjoying? She didn’t know.
“Yes,” Kim said, realizing she’d been silent for a long time and Rache might be waiting for an answer. “I’ve told you my feelings on touching.”
“You have,” he agreed, a slight sad smile curving his lips.
Uhm. A message from Casmir popped up on her contact display. Are you being kidnapped, Kim? Or did you accidentally walk into the wrong shuttle? The inside of Asger’s airlock is painted royal purple, so I’m not sure how you could have made that mistake, but perhaps you’re fatigued after the day’s events.
I’m not being kidnapped.
Well, Asger says we’re ready to go, and Ishii is waiting for us. Probably that grumpy ambassador too. So if you’re coming, you should probably join us soon. You are coming, right? Or are you there because you plan to spy on Rache’s dastardly plans and report his moves back to us?
Kim snorted. I’ll be over there shortly.
Rache raised his eyebrows.
“Our shuttle is ready to return to the warship,” she said.
“And that was snort-inspiring?”
“No. Casmir wanted to know if I’d accidentally walked into the wrong shuttle. And then he suggested I go with you to spy on you and report back to the Fleet warships.”
“You know, if you ever decide to have a romantic relationship with a man, you should plan to turn off input from the outside world when you’re together. He would appreciate that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Pleasing men is always my number one goal.”
The words came out a little harsher than she intended—she never liked having someone presume to correct her, even when she knew she was wrong and had failed to grasp some obvious social convention—but he dropped his head back and laughed. It was a nice laugh, not the maniacal laugh of a super villain, and she found it pleasant.
“Why did you stage your death?” Kim asked, the words burbling up before she could consider if this was the best time to ask. “What happened in the months you weren’t racing? And when your fiancée was reported missing?”
His humor vanished, and the intensity returned to his eyes. Almost a ferocity, and she feared she’d misstepped and presumed too much.
She’d forgotten that Casmir had mentioned overhearing the information about his dead fiancée and that it wasn’t something Rache had voluntarily shared. His enemy had brought it up, possibly to hurt him, to twist a knife that had never been pulled out.
“We were kidnapped by pirates that I eventually learned Jager had hired to capture us—to capture me. I happened to be with Thea when it happened, and they took her too.” For the first time his gaze shifted from her, to a spot on the hull where his eyes grew very hard, very angry, and Kim was glad he wasn’t looking at her. Ten years clearly hadn’t dulled the pain that much. “Because she was beautiful, and they wanted to enjoy her beauty, even though she was unwilling. They didn’t care, and Jager didn’t care either. They checked apparently.”
He clenched his fist so hard it looked like it would hurt.
“He wanted me to fight them, to be motivated to do so, to come up with some brilliant way to escape, even though there were hundreds of them. He wanted me to learn what a bad place the universe was so I would stop racing bikes and screwing around with my life, as he put it, and become the hardened military leader he’d invested so much in me becoming. And I did fight them. They tortured me, and they tortured her, and I did everything I could to escape and to kill as many of them as I could on the way out. I finally got my chance, and I almost died getting Thea out of there. But it had taken me too long, and they’d hurt her too much. She died before I could get us back to medical care. I was in a hos
pital for weeks myself when I got back, but I didn’t care about that. I just cared that I’d lost her, and that because she’d known me, because she’d fallen in love with me, the end of her life was the worst possible end imaginable.” He paused and swallowed, and there were tears in his eyes now. “Because Jager wanted to build my fucking character.”
Kim didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry would be ludicrously inadequate. She’d imagined something tragic must have happened to Rache—to David—to create his obsession with hurting Jager—and everyone who swore an oath to serve him—but she hadn’t envisioned that.
She wiped moisture from her eyes, and he stirred, blinking and visibly pulling himself back together—putting the mask back on, the symbolic one, not the real one. The real one he still gripped in one hand, the mask he’d worn for ten years so Jager wouldn’t know that David Lichtenburg had survived that crash and was coming after him. Or maybe, she realized, it had been to protect those back on Odin that he cared about. If his adoptive parents had been decent, or if he’d had friends he raced with and trained to be a knight with, he might have worried that Jager would use them to get to him.
“Tell Casmir to watch out for that man.” Rache leaned over and hit the button to open the hatch back into the station. “And whatever else you want. I don’t care.”
No, he cared a lot. But not if his clone brother knew his past, apparently. Maybe he even wanted her to share it as a warning to Casmir. But she didn’t think she would. They weren’t her secrets to tell.
Light flooded in when the hatch opened, and even though there was nobody standing outside, the chamber lost its privacy. Its intimacy.
“I’m sorry, David,” Kim said, even though she’d already decided the words were insipid and not enough. Maybe all words were like that. But to leave without saying anything to acknowledge his story would be worse than not saying enough.
She leaned close and kissed him on the cheek, then walked away without looking back, not wanting to see what his reaction was, not wanting to know if it was too little, too distant. Not wanting to be reminded how bad she was at people, at relationships.
Crossfire (Star Kingdom Book 4) Page 34