by A. B. Keuser
But if Aaron could be reasoned with… the admiralty probably wouldn’t have demanded his execution.
“You had the choice to do what you did, and you accepted the consequences when you sold that first crate.”
“It wasn’t a crate.”
Aaron had always enjoyed gloating. It had been one of the few things Kenzie hadn’t been able to emulate when she’d stolen his identity. Not that she’d ever put herself in a position to be around someone who would know.
“How did you buy Maeltar now that your supply is cut off? Surely she wanted something more than Kenzie.”
The butt of the gun caught him square in the center of his back. “Don’t you dare suggest Kenzie wasn’t worth it.”
“I wouldn’t. But I know Maeltar. She would have wanted a down payment, some reassurances.”
“All I had to do was give her the Curran. The codes weren’t easy to get, but ply an ensign with enough liquor and then put a few thousand volts through them…
“You did that, knowing they’d die.”
“They deserved it. You all deserve it.” Aaron spit the words. “It would have been easier with Kenzie’s help, but—”
“There’s no way she’d have gone along with it.”
“Don’t worry, she didn’t know what she was doing back then.”
“What, she thought you were hacking a dozen semi-autos for your personal collection?”
“Nope, she was helping me with the contract the fleet had issued.”
“You used your little sister, and you don’t feel bad about that? Not even a little?”
“It’s not as though any of her private black market dealings were with charitable causes.” He pushed again. “Don’t put her on a pedestal. She is not a saint.”
“You don’t know your sister as well as you think you do.”
“And you do?”
“You always were an idiot.”
Provocation seems unwise.
Aaron let out an aggravated growl and hit him again. “I have no problem killing you.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
“Because, unlike the fleet, I’m a bit more creative than a simple bullet to the brain.” He jammed the gun into Cable’s solar plexus, urging him forward. “And you deserve to suffer.”
If he puts you in that chair, you will certainly do that.
Do not aid him.
In the Imadaha chamber, I cannot help you.
The door loomed and Aaron’s footsteps stopped behind him. “Open it.”
Aaron was ten feet away, no chance he’d be able to rush him. And there was no way he could see to open the door. Its structure was like some sort of aortic valve.
“Did you bring a torch?”
A sharp blade of pain sliced along his brain.
I would rather see your corpse on this floor.
“Or do you have any idea how to open it?”
“There’s a nerve cluster, there,” he jabbed the gun toward the curved part of the wall, where the chamber door connected. “Hurry up.”
He had to let Aaron in. Dying on the doorstep of the chamber—no matter how much KaDen would prefer it, wouldn’t stop Aaron from further desecrating the ship.
With imprecations seething in his mind, Cable opened the door and stepped into a tomb that held nothing but a body made of stone and dust in a throne that curled around him as though it was made from a hundred, metallic bones.
“The chair won’t kill me.”
It will be the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced.
I would be amazed if you survived.
Someday, he’d have to explain what bluffing was to the Ka.
If you survive.
Thirty-Eight
One of Mack’s first electrical engineering teachers had told her it was better to be smart and alive than trust in stupid luck.
She was fairly certain Mr. Whitmore had never been in a situation this dire.
Of her limited options, the one he'd suggest was likely waiting for help. He'd never been overly imaginative.
That was probably why he'd tried to expel her. Creating an arc would definitely overload the circuit... but as Mr. Whitmore would no doubt remind her, it would also probably kill her.
Nrog might help, if he was there, but the crassicau had his own agenda, and she doubted it would bring him to her aide now. Not, she mused, that she believed the man wanted her dead.
Shaking the cuff, she glanced from it to the tools on the console--discarded when the pieces of the console had been "completed"--and snatched up a bolt pry. The thin metal device was like a flat spoon, or a tineless fork.
The comparison reminded her she hadn't eaten recently, but that line of thought wasn't helpful.
The cuff clattered against the bone-like projection Aaron had secured her to.
If she could just slip loose...
The cuffs glowed blue, the warning sign she was a few meager attempts away from getting herself a zap. The tingle against her skin was supposed to be a deterrent for those who didn't know what they were in for.
Hot and prickling, the cuffs squeezed with gentle pressure.
If she wanted out, she was going to have to do something stupid… and painful.
On the console, a conduit trailed from one of Aaron's devices--a bastardized navigation array, if she guessed right--down onto the floor and flowed through to the jumbled mass of piping he'd used to cobble together the incompatible systems.
They were old. The tech seemingly salvaged from the proverbial dark ages. And the nav array's connection point was an archaic rubber gasket. The kind they'd outlawed forty years ago when salvagers had been in too much of a hurry to stop from frying themselves.
An overload was just what she needed. Well, she could do with a strong drink too, but that would have to wait.
Taking a long breath, she sidled toward the conduit.
As far as she knew, the cuffs wouldn't be triggered by strain to the connecting cording, but she watched the glowing interior carefully.
The rubber gasket slid away from the wires and she grimaced at the frayed tangle underneath.
Sloppy work.
Aaron was better than this. Even when he was in a hurry, he kept things clean.
He must have had very limited resources if this was the best he could do.
But it worked for her.
"Thank Goddess for small favors."
She only hoped there would be big favors too.
With a kick, she knocked the conduit free of its straps, and wrenched the wires free. The tangle in her hand looked like a clump of multicolored grass and she swallowed, stalling. One way, or another, she was in for a world of pain. She'd choose the physical option any day of the week... but that didn't mean she was excited about it.
Glancing down at the time dial on the console, she cursed and jerked her hand closer. She didn't have time to worry about Aaron's shoddy work, she had to get free of this and get to the Imadaha chamber.
Pain seared through her arm, seizing the muscles. Flame ignited on her sleeve and she fought the urge to jerk away. She had a minute before it would burn through the retardant and scorch her skin.
She gritted her teeth, dropped the coil. It sparked against the floor. Wrenching her hand away, she pushed the broken cuff off her wrist and calmly jerked the shoulder of her shirt.
The fabric tore—too easily, and she threw the sleeve away, stamping on it until the smoldering stopped.
Mack started for the door, rubbing at her wrist, but realization stopped her short.
No two Kazahans were exactly alike. She couldn't trust her knowledge of KaDen's ship to lead her to them, and she didn't have time to mount a search. She needed answers, and there was only one way to get them.
This time, she didn't hesitate; though she knew it was likely she'd find more pain.
Whoever--whatever--KaLongre had been, she knew that the Ka she was going to interface with would not be him. If he was still in there, she doubted he would be
sane.
The torture her brother had put him through....
She swallowed back the bile that thought raised in her throat.
The integration point was covered over with the detritus of Aaron's abomination. It was scarred with dark lines from plasma torches, and marred with the melted remains of a miswelded strap.
Clearing it away took precious seconds and she cursed Aaron under her breath as she hauled a temporary weapons comp off the left pressure point.
If he hadn't torn out KaLongre's conscious control, that sort of abuse might have driven him mad.
Cleared away, the integration points looked like the mangled musculature of an improperly prepared steak.
With a deep breath, she leaned forward, placing all of her weight on her hands and fell into KaLongre's mind.
She fell into his madness.
It was like standing in the middle of a station departure terminal when the announcement comes through that the safety drill you just participated in wasn't a drill at all, and everyone around you was supposed to be on the ship that had just blown up.
But she wasn't twelve anymore, and the chaotic din didn't send her into a panic.
She tried to sort through the fragments, the floating consciousness.
A shadowy flicker jumped at her and danced back, the movements too fluid to be a part of KaLongre.
Cable was here, and KaDen was with him.
If the other Captain was here, she had to trust that this wraith was his attempt to help her...
A flash of sound blinded her.
...because if Aaron accomplished what he hoped in the Imadaha chamber, she didn't know what would happen to KaDen.
The hard squeeze of a shattered friendship stabbed at her and she inhaled too sharp--too cold--a breath.
KaDen was willing to risk too much for the man her brother had killed.
She tried to catch her bearings on a plane that undulated, turbulent as a night storm sea.
Tried to trail KaDen through the maze of what had once been KaLongre's consciousness. Memories were cutting. Laughter sliced at her skin, anger simmered against the back of her neck.
And then, he was screaming. Screaming at her invasion. Screaming at the two who were too near his physical form--what remained of it felt like a ghost.
KaDen pushed her.
She fell out of the Kazahan's mind and hit the floor, her knees buckled.
The Imadaha chamber was... not in the same place KaDen's was. A rough map tried to form in her memory, but it was torn. Like a puzzle missing pieces.
She'd have to find her way on her own. But she was better off than she had been a minute before.
Nausea roiled through her head and down her stomach. The ship was too still, the floor too flat.
She closed her eyes for a moment to get her bearings--and to keep herself from wretching--and her foot caught on the stupid bundle of cording Aaron had left in the middle of the doorway.
She pitched forward, and reached out, but she didn't hit the floor.
Nrog caught her, scaled hand rough on her exposed arm.
"Thank you," she said, mind still swimming.
“We must go, KaZie. This Kazahan is dying, you must be safe.”
“No, I must get to Cable and Aaron. I need to stop Aaron from killing… himself.” It was a half-truth. She needed to stop him from killing Cable, and then stop Cable from killing him.
She paused, hoping she could trust the man to help her. "Do you know where the imadaha chamber is?"
He drew back as though she'd announced she had middle pox, but he nodded.
"Take me there, and maybe we'll all survive the next hour."
He glanced back the way he'd come and she saw the hesitation, knew he considered taking her to the shuttle. Considered lying to her.
Defeat lowered his shoulders, and he bowed his head, motioning for her to precede him down the corridor.
The corridors wound around on themselves, and when Nrog’s hand took her arm once again, she let him slow her, saw the open door way… knew she was about to make the hardest decision of her life.
Aaron stood on the far side of the room. He should have seen them, but he only had eyes for Cable. The gun he held waved through the air as though wielded by a toddler, and she winced every time the nose pointed at Cable.
"He seems to be in no danger."
"If he puts Cable in that chair, none of us are getting off this Kazahan."
Nrog studied her face for a moment. If he thought she was lying, she didn't know, but he nodded and stood beside her in silence.
She would have preferred it if he'd offered options. She didn't have many, and Each one seemed like a worse idea than the last.
She strained to hear Aaron, and when she did…
"You've always been inferior."
…she didn’t like the direction they were headed.
"You were promoted first because I made it happen." Aaron sneered and threw his free hand out in a dismissive gesture. "The screening process you went through? They never would have overlooked the holes I'd woven into my personal life. But with you in charge--someone more than happy to overlook my faults--well, I was free to do as I pleased.
"You should have taken the fall.
Cable saw her, freezing as he pulled the last of the connections from KaLongre's body.
The entire ship shuddered, and lights began to flicker and fade.
"What did you do?" Aaron rushed forward and stabbed the gun into the soft spot under Cable's chin.
“Aaron, don’t.” Mack stepped into the chamber, hands out. “This chamber was never what you thought it was. He didn’t do anything. You did.”
Aaron didn’t look at her.
Didn’t respond.
“She speaks the truth,” Nrog stepped beside her, his hands were tucked behind his back, but she couldn’t see if he held anything. “We must go, and now. The ship cannot sustain itself much longer.”
Aaron smiled and Mack held her breath. “Do you really think I’m that foolish?”
She did now.
Thirty-Nine
It didn’t matter that Kenzie was right. It didn’t matter that Aaron’s face was a mask of gleeful malice. It didn’t even matter that the gun in his chin was close to choking him.
He had to turn the situation around, and he had to do it fast.
Because he was no longer certain Aaron wouldn’t kill his sister. And that was unacceptable.
If she dies, you die too.
He didn’t need KaDen’s threat, and the Ka knew it.
Something told Cable the man in his head liked intimidating people. Liked being in control… even if that control was gained through threats.
“Go back to your ship, Kenzie.” He spoke through the hard pain of the gun digging into his skin and the tendon below his tongue. “Aaron knows what he’s doing.”
That got him a narrow eyed glare.
Shoving him away, Aaron turned, moving back and sweeping all three of them with his gun.
“I want you,” he said, pointing at the crassicau, “to take her back to the other ship.”
“No,” Kenzie stood her ground and crossed her arms. The look she shot at her would-be warden set the man back on his heels.
“I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”
“Won’t you?” Kenzie looked for all the worlds as though she didn’t believe him. Cable did.
He needs to be stopped.
Killing him is the only way.
By now, Cable agreed, even if he didn’t know how he’d do it. He moved sideways, trying to place himself between them, but Aaron shot a bolt at his foot.
“Don’t even think about it.”
The floor was scorched, where the blast had struck. Gray liquid bubbled out.
You aren’t going to let a warning shot scare you off… are you?
Cable half expected the Ka to descend into school-yard taunts.
“You can’t prove you love her by
“I don’t need
to prove it right now. I just need to make sure you’re not dumb enough to kill her.”
Aaron stood straighter, but Kenzie was the one who flinched, shooting him an unreadable look.
KaDen chuckled in the residual connection that filtered through his mind.
She knew you loved her.
Hearing you admit it is that part that startled her.
Cable didn’t have time to chase down those thoughts.
"Don't do this, Kenzie. You don't know the whole truth. We're just freaks to people like him." Aaron shoved the gun toward him, but it wasn't close enough for Cable to grab.
"They'll use you until you step out of line and then they'll get rid of you. Quietly. In a way that will brook no fuss."
"That's not true."
"How quickly did they draft you into service once it became convenient? Fleet laws only apply to humans. We aren't that, it's just that no one had the common decency to let us know. We had to find out for ourselves."
She stepped forward and Cable tensed, he needed to get between them, needed to get that gun out of his hand.
"If you think we're better than them, prove it."
"Are you asking me to take the high road, Kenz? You? Really?"
Cable didn't like the direction Aaron was headed. Didn't like the caustic joke in his tone.
"We both know the low road is so much more fun." Aaron grinned.
And Cable wanted to knock that smile off his face.
Wanted to drive his flesh-stripped hand into Aaron’s face and keep punching until they both resembled an abstract painting.
Taking a step forward, he froze when Aaron turned the gun on him again.
"No." He held out the gun, shaking his head, a little too violently. "Stay back, I don't want to shoot you, but I will if you make me."
"Stop this madness, Aaron. Nothing good will come of it."
"You are wrong."
Cable sprang, too late.
He pulled the trigger.
Nrog moved with a speed Cable had never imagined possible.
A horrendous cry of pain echoed and Cable hit the ground a moment before Nrog fell on top of him... blue blood seeping out of the man’s scaly skin.
Do something.
Do anything!