by Lynn Rae
“Cara?” Mat spoke up again and struggled to see her.
“She’s all right—”
“I’ll be fine, Mat, don’t worry about me.”
“So, do we have a deal?” He knew he was pressing her at a vulnerable moment, but he had a feeling if he waited to settle this point until she was recovered, she would have already disappeared. Entirely unbidden, he realized he liked her nickname very much. Cara.
“Thirty hours.” Cara blinked up at him and folded her arms across her chest. Those borrowed garments were so thin, he could practically see her…Ben reached under the bed and removed a blanket to spread over her.
“Agreed. But we talk about what’s going on. At my convenience.”
Holding his gaze a moment longer, she nodded her head once and then glanced over at her brother. Ben wanted to pat her arm or touch her shoulder, smooth her tangled hair back from her cheek, but instead, he retrieved another blanket and arranged it over Mat who gazed up at him with wide eyes. Now, he’d have to come up some sort of logical explanation for keeping the med crew from taking a standard DNA sample from these castaways.
“You’re off the record for now. I’ll send in someone to check on you and bring you a meal. Then I’ll be back for some answers.”
“Who is that guy?”
“Bendix Zashi. The head of safety services for wherever we are. Notice he didn’t tell us that little piece of information?”
“I guess he’ll want to trade for it.” Mat put on a galaxy-weary air, but Cara could sense the curiosity underlying her brother’s tone.
“Probably. Mat, how are you feeling?”
“Sore but happy I’m not dead.”
Cara smiled at him, pleased yet again her brother was such a practical and level-headed type now that they weren’t in mortal peril. He smiled back.
“I’m really hungry. Do you think he’s going to feed us sooner rather than later?”
“He might want to trade rations for our secrets.” Cara wanted to joke, but she had a feeling it might be close to the truth. The security chief, despite his beautiful eyes, worried her. Her stomach tensed whenever he looked at her, and she didn’t think it was caused by lingering effects of the crash. He made her nerves misfire. She needed to stay alert and uncommunicative just as she had for the last twelve years.
Yet again, she thought of Soren, their last surviving protector. He might not be a survivor much longer, which meant she would be the last barrier between the evil people aiming to destroy them and her young brother lying helpless on a bed in some clinic on an unknown world. Damn Falk for showing off and tagging that cruiser. He’d had no idea where it was headed; just that it was jumping at an opportune moment to get them away from official scrutiny at the very populated Station Seven. If he’d just waited and used their faux identity—
Her angry musings were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. She immediately tensed and sat up on the bed, not able to relax even when she saw it was merely a servebot rolling in under a heavily loaded food tray. It was probably equipped with remote monitoring devices. Mat slid off the bed and rummaged amongst the covered plates.
“Cara! There’s tomatoes and curried tempeh. Bok Choi. And cookies!” He looked over at her with such excitement and hope in his gaze she wanted to weep. Her baby brother, nearly killed today, and now thrilled by the appearance of a cookie. She motioned for him to collect his serving and eat. Very politely he handed her another container, and she opened it to find more of the same. It looked delicious, and her disobedient stomach growled approval. No matter what waited for them, they needed nourishment.
“How do you think Soren is?” Mat asked around a bite of tomato, and she shrugged. Cara was suspicious of the servebot, of the medtechs, and most of all suspicious of the commanding man who had bargained with her. Any of them could be listening or watching right now.
The door opened again, and a new woman stuck her head in and smiled at both Cara and Mat. She was young and fit-looking with thick dark hair Cara immediately envied. “Do you like your food? If you want something else just tell me or the bot.”
She shuffled a few centimeters into the room, and Cara tensed, looking for a hand held scanner. “I’m Penni Dismit. I work here, in medical. Chief Zashi asked me to check on you and tell you how you’re doing.”
Penni was now inside the room, and she shut the door slowly behind her, all while watching them, probably wondering if Cara was going to lose her temper again. Rather than leap up and yell, Cara kept eating, trying to ingest as much nutrition as possible and encouraging Mat to do the same.
“Physically, you’re both in good shape. Some wear and tear from stress and the compression foam, but nothing a few days of rest won’t set right. You’re both undernourished and dehydrated.” Penni smiled at both of them, perhaps cheered by the speed at which they were eating.
Cara wasn’t surprised to hear of the end result of their poor diet; they’d been on the move constantly for the last few months, and balanced, regular meals weren’t part of evasion tactics. Soren had been spooked away from their last temporary home before they’d even unpacked their bundles. Cara couldn’t even remember the last time she’d cooked a meal.
“Your weakness and dizziness should clear up within the hour, and there won’t be any lasting impairment. The doctor can confirm this with you if you’d like. We’d also like to have you come back in a couple of days for a follow up, but you’re free to go as soon as we get your information and aftercare posted.”
Cara tensed and slid her meal away, making ready to bolt through the door. Damn that man, he’d promised not to report them, and here this deceptively nice woman was going to do just that. Penni noticed her tension and held up a cautionary hand.
“No, no, we’re not going to scan you or register you. Chief Zashi was very clear on that. I just meant for our local system, here on Gamaliel.”
“That’s where we are?”
Penni’s brows furrowed, and she shook her head once. “You didn’t even know where you crashed, you poor things. This is an unfortunate situation all the way round. Don’t worry about anything. I’m going to contact our Barracks and get you a place to stay as soon as I leave here. Plus, I’ll get Chita to round up some supplies for you, considering all your things were probably incinerated on that ship.”
Cara realized she hadn’t even thought of their baggage yet. Yes, everything was probably destroyed, and she’d have to piece together a way to access their remote funds. Soren had always taken care of those practicalities, but it was up to her now.
“Now, on to your friend, Soren, isn’t it? Yes, well, he’s still alive and that’s remarkably good considering his condition, but he’s going to be unconscious for the next few days. We’re going to want to keep him here until his situation improves, but we have great hope he will recover.”
Cara sighed. She was of course relieved to learn her companion was mending, but this meant more time on Gamaliel, wherever that was. She’d never even heard of it. It had to be a minor planet somewhere very isolated. It might be possible to keep their heads down for a while longer, until Soren was fit for travel.
“So, that’s about all I had for you,” the medtech said with another genuine smile. “Finish those meals and drink all the water, and by then I should have things underway to discharge you.”
She gave them a half wave goodbye as she pulled the door shut. Mat had typically remained silent throughout. He tended to not interact with strangers.
“Sis, what’s a barracks?”
“I have no idea. Whatever it is, we aren’t getting comfortable there.”
Cara was exhausted but too anxious to seek her borrowed bed. Mat was safe in his new, temporary bedroom and fast asleep, but she paced. The barracks had turned out to be a large building complex with a dining area, recreational facilities, and numerous suites for the congressional staff on this planet. She was now surrounded by the sort of people she had been avoiding for most of her life. Soren wou
ld be beside himself with the danger if he knew.
She’d expected to share a common sleeping and bathing area, but when the barracks manager opened the door and gestured for them to enter, both she and Mat had been struck silent by their new living space. A large living and dining area, and the fully-stocked kitchen resembled something from the set of one of the dramatic entertainments about rival families she was secretly addicted to. Big windows, bright and new furnishings; everything gleamed with thoughtful design and luxury.
Chita then showed them the bedrooms, three large ones each with their own private bath. Mat had been awestruck when he’d seen the large display mounted on the wall of his room. When the manager had cheerfully informed him that all the latest age-appropriate entertainments and games had already been loaded for him, and that when there was another datapod delivered on the next ship there would be more, her little brother had quivered with excitement. He could even order some and they’d arrive on the next available ship. Cara shook her head as her brother nearly fainted with excitement. They’d be leaving soon, and she wasn’t going to let him get used the luxury.
Chita had told them a little about Gamaliel and why there were people arriving on every ship. It seemed some strange little creatures produced a substance the human brain craved, so there were marks to be made by extracting it. Cara was intrigued by the other woman’s brief description of the native life forms, and she wondered if she’d have a chance to see any of them first hand before she and Mat disappeared back into space.
After double-checking all the windows for the best escape routes, Cara wandered to the kitchen and glanced in the cabinets and chiller for the fourth time that evening. She wanted to reassure herself there were still supplies. Breads, crackers, cheese, fruits, beverages, even a few desserts were just waiting to be eaten. There were basic cooking utensils, and she anticipated scrambling an egg and making a fruit salad in the morning.
She wore actual clothes from the hamper Chita had delivered before they’d arrived. Everything was clean and loose fitting. There’d been no way for the hospitality manager to get proper sizing since Cara hadn’t input their physical data into the system. Mat merely added another layer to the clothes he’d been issued in the medical center, but Cara had gone through her portion and assembled an outfit that would work if they needed to flee at a moment’s notice. Sturdy construction, lots of pockets, dark colors, it was drab but serviceable. Just like all her clothes still on Falk’s crushed ship. Perhaps she’d be allowed to go back to the site tomorrow to locate her and Mat’s possessions. They didn’t have many, but a few well-loved things would soothe her brother. As for the clothes she and Mat had worn in the crash, it was likely those had been discarded at the medical center.
A gentle ping echoed through the room, and Cara spun, blood pressure spiking, as she tried to determine what had happened. There was a repeat of the pleasant sound, and she realized it was the door signal. Why did something that sounded so nice seem so menacing?
Trotting to the door, she checked the monitor to find Chief Zashi staring at her with those serious eyes. He was actually looking at the display outside the door of course, but it felt as if he knew she was there and making note of all her lies and deceptions. Sucking in a deep breath and pushing her shoulders back for the barest semblance of confidence, Cara opened the door. She had to give him credit for courtesy; he could have easily overridden the lock and strode in without pause.
“Good evening.”
Cara nodded her head and watched him, wondering what he was after but not willing to ask and reveal any of her anxieties.
“May I come in?”
Courtesy again. Debating how much danger she might be in if he decided to interrogate her, Cara decided she had enough energy left to hold her own for a few minutes of determined questioning. If he didn’t like her answers, she supposed he’d arrest her and haul her to Security and toss her in a dank cell until she was more cooperative. Not the best outcome.
Gesturing him in, Cara stepped aside. He eased past her and took a short walk around the suite, checking the contents of the chiller with a nod and glancing over the bundle of clothing she and Mat had spread on the dining table.
He turned his searching eyes back on her, and her stomach shriveled. “It seems you have the basics. Whatever else you need we can get in the morning.”
Swallowing hard, Cara nodded again. Not for the first time, she wished Soren was here to help her divert this man with conversation and easy assurances that everything about the Belasco siblings was perfectly normal, and they’d be on their way before anyone even knew they were there. “When can I go to the ship and look for our things?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
She waited for him to say something else, but he just walked closer and watched her as if she might try to run away.
What was he doing here? Ben had somehow found himself at this young woman’s door after a long and tiring day, and all he could do was stare at her and wonder who she really was. All his instincts and intuition, honed by many years of dealing with liars, thieves, perverts, and violent offenders, jangled warnings at him, and he persistently ignored them. He’d already stepped on the line of legality by coming up with the chancy bargain to delay reporting her presence to the proper authorities. Now, he was well past the barrier of proper behavior by being alone with her in her apartment this late in the evening. It was questionable decision making from top to bottom. If one of Ben’s subordinates had made these choices, he’d be having a long talk with them.
“How’s your brother?”
“Fed, clean, and asleep in a safe place.” She clasped her hands together and breathed in raggedly. The way she rattled off those basic components to a decent life made him wonder how many nights these two castaways had spent hungry and afraid.
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Someone needs to answer the door,” Cara Belasco answered too quickly for it to be anything other than her first thought. So that flash of sarcasm he’d glimpsed earlier in medical was still there. He’d liked how she scoffed about his potential punishment if his superiors found out he bent the rules.
“Do you want to borrow a butlebot?” He could lend her his and program it to record all her instructions for him to analyze later. Even as he formulated the thought, he chastised himself for the blatantly illegal notion.
“No.” She pressed her lips together, and it didn’t take much awareness to understand she was desperate not to talk with him or reveal anything other than the bare essentials. Which meant there was a lot going on in her brain, and he wanted to learn about it even more. Time for some questions. She was tired and this might be his only chance to interact with her without her brother or her travel companion in the room. First, a little gift of information, so she might feel obligated to reciprocate.
“I’ve told our informationist about your situation, and he has input the least possible amount of data about the crash and your presence in the official report. It will ping out in about twenty hours. He’s also put merely your names and ages into our local directory. I assume the aliases you’re using are clean for now?” At her jerky nod, he continued. “Good. I ran a datasweep on everything; your names, your companion, the ship, and pilot and found no evidence anyone has initiated searches within the last few weeks.” There had been such a minimal amount of information attached to those names he knew all of it was a cover. No real people could live for a few years in the system and not leave megabits of evidence behind.
She gulped and swallowed again. Her slender neck rose from the oversized clothing she was hiding in and he wondered how such a petite person had escaped serious injury.
“For the time you’re here, you’ll be relatively anonymous, and I’ll do my best to keep you and your brother safe.” From what, he still didn’t know, but he was going to try to find out.
“Thank you.”
“Now, you need to tell me why I did all that for you.”
“I don’t
know.” Another quick reply. She pressed her lips to prevent more words from spilling out.
“I’ve just endangered my career and placed undue influence on my fellow staff, all to accommodate your rather worrisome and unsubstantiated demands. You owe me a better answer than ‘I don’t know.’” He let a little bit of the growl he used on misbehaving subordinates leak into his words, but she didn’t even flinch.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.” Her defiant words matched the flush of pink delicately coloring her cheeks.
“Yes, you did. You might not have understood what I’d have to do to accomplish it, but you did ask me to keep official channels in the dark about you.” More of the growl emerged, and for the first time she broke eye contact.
“I have to protect Mat, that’s all.” Cara’s voice shook, and he stifled his illogical urge to ease back and stop causing her distress. She’d tucked one hand to her side and pressed it close. Was she experiencing some painful aftereffects of the crash?
“I can’t help you with that unless I know what’s happening. Who’s after him? Are they after you too? Is it an estranged relative? An abusive living situation?” Who exactly might make their way to his planet and cause trouble for his citizens? Her brother was too young to have caused serious problems for anyone, and Cara was, she was…not someone he could imagine bringing out murderous impulses in someone else. Of course, that was complete malarkey; anyone with murderous impulses would use any spurious excuse to exercise them.
Cara shook her head and reached behind her to locate the sofa before she wilted into it like a faded flower.