by Jaleta Clegg
"My mother was an unclean woman. She wasn’t moral. But the Sidyama didn’t do anything about her, as long as she never charged them. She threw me out when I was six, I was getting old enough to notice and distract her customers. I lived on the streets after that, eating whatever I could steal, sleeping wherever I could hide. I ran with a gang for a while, until the Sidyama caught up to us. I wasn’t there when they raided our lair. I came back to find everything broken up and everyone gone. So I went out on my own. Another gang cornered me because I’d been stealing in their territory. That’s when Habim found me. I keep him safe, and he keeps me safe. We fixed things for people, ones who couldn’t afford the guild fees. They gave us food, sometimes a place to sleep, old clothes, things like that."
It sounded awful to me. I’d at least had the orphanage, even if the other girls had beaten me regularly and the staff chose not to notice. And I’d had a mother who at least had wanted me. And I’d had a chance at escaping Tivor. Ginni hadn’t had any of those things.
"What’s Habim’s story?" Clark asked.
Ginni shook her head. "He can fix anything, but he’s like a child. I don’t know anything else about him. He can’t tell me. He doesn’t understand."
"So why are the Sidyama after him?" Clark asked.
"Because he isn’t right," Ginni said as if it explained everything. She saw our blank looks and frowned, confused. "The ones who aren’t right are supposed to be taken to the Sidyama. They disappear. Sometimes parents will try to keep a child, but the Sidyama always catch them. The parents are punished, more than having a child who isn’t right. The Sidyama say it’s because they displeased the Sidya. They are doubly punished for resisting the will of the Sidya."
"That is so wrong," Clark said, appalled. "There’s medical help for most things."
Ginni looked surprised. "But they said it was worse outside the Sidyatha. That no one tolerated anyone who wasn’t right. That only the perfect were allowed to live."
Clark shook his head. "Most problems can be fixed, and if they can’t, there’s always some kind of help."
I kept my mouth shut. On the worlds where Clark had lived, that had been true. On Tivor, it hadn’t been. Those unlucky enough to be deformed either lived on the streets or were sent out to the farms.
"Are you going to turn us in to the Sidyama?" Ginni asked in a small voice.
"Probably not," I said, before I had time to think. Ginni was too much like me. Life had dealt her a very bad hand. She deserved a chance at a real life. Helping her was going to get me in trouble, eventually, but everything I did anymore ended up getting me in trouble.
"Jerimon will object," Clark said to me.
"What else is new?"
"You know, Dace," Clark said, "the two of you are going to have to come to some kind of truce sooner or later."
"I’m tired," Habim said. He yawned.
Ginni was watching us, her eyes huge with the beginnings of hope.
Habim tugged her arm. He stroked the fabric of the tunic. "Soft."
"You won’t turn us in?" Ginni asked.
"As long as Habim leaves the engines and the controls alone," I said.
"Let’s get some bunks fixed up for you." Clark herded them both into Jerimon’s cabin.
I grinned at that. Let Jerimon keep an eye on them while they slept. He was the one with all the objections. There really wasn’t anywhere to keep them locked up, and I had to admit I almost trusted Ginni. Habim wasn’t violent or a murderer, I’d bet on that, but he still needed watched. I didn’t want to wake up one morning to find the engines dismantled.
Jerimon would just have to be suspicious on his own. He was outvoted.
Chapter 9
Jerimon cornered me the next day. I sat in the cockpit, trying to find a place away from the plants. The smell of growing things was overpowering in the small ship. I was tired of tripping over plants every time I turned around. Ginni had taken over watering and caring for them, not that they needed much but it made her feel useful. Clark had his hands full finding things for Habim to take apart and fix. So far he’d gone through every com unit in the ship and the morning was only half over.
Jerimon slid into the seat next to me. I had my feet tucked in my chair, watching the viewscreen and playing with Ghost. The cat wasn’t cooperating. She ignored my string and curled up in my lap instead. I ran a finger down her soft back, stroking the plush gray fur.
Jerimon got on my nerves by not saying anything. He sat in the copilots seat staring up at the swirling colors on the viewscreen.
"What?" I finally demanded. "You didn’t come in here just to sit."
He sighed and gave me a sideways look. "You’re asking for trouble, Dace."
"I know."
"Then why are you doing it? Turn them in to the authorities and let them take care of it. Onipas isn’t the Sidyatha."
"You have an overrated opinion of authority."
"And you have no sense."
"Go away, Jerimon."
"Where? Out the airlock?"
"Are you being obnoxious on purpose?"
"I’m trying to help you."
"I don’t want your help."
"You’ve made that very clear."
"Then why are you still here?"
"Can we start over? Forget Lady Rina. Forget my stupidity about that." He swiveled in the chair to face me. "Hi. My name’s Jerimon." He grinned and stuck out his hand.
I turned away. I could very easily find myself in love with him, especially when he looked at me that way. He scared me. No, I scared myself, the way I reacted to him.
"You aren’t trying." He stared up at the viewscreen. "For what it’s worth, I’m sorry."
I ran my hand down Ghost’s back. She twitched one ear.
"You aren’t still mad at me about the Sessimoniss, are you?" He watched me out of the corner of his eye.
"I got over that a long time ago."
"Then what? Talk to me. Please."
I made the mistake of looking at him. His eyes were too blue. He looked sincere, this time, but he’d fooled me before. I looked down at the cat in my lap.
"It’s Tayvis, isn’t it? What has he got that I haven’t? Besides distance."
"None of your business."
"How well do you really know him, Dace? How much time have you really spent with him? It’s safe for you to claim you’re in love with him because you know nothing is ever going to happen. He’s Patrol and always will be. You never have to feel anything because you can hide—"
"Shut up, Jerimon!" I stood, dumping Ghost to the floor. She stalked away, as offended at me as I was at Jerimon. "My personal life is none of your affair."
He stood, closing the distance between us to barely inches. I would have backed away, but there was no room in the small cockpit.
"You’re scared of me," he said, smugness creeping into his voice. "If you ever stopped and honestly examined how you feel, you’d know I'm the one you want."
"How do you know what I feel?"
"You’d realize you want me, not Tayvis. Except you’re so afraid of feeling anything, you won’t let him in. He’s as bad as you are. And you don’t even realize it. He’s deliberately keeping you at arm’s length."
"You have no idea what you’re talking about." But could it be true?
"So grow up. Quit living in a fantasy world. You do that because you don’t want to face reality."
I’d had enough. I slapped him across the face and left, stomping out and pretending I hadn’t seen the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.
I went straight into my cabin and shut the door. I could pretend I hadn’t been seen, the plants were that thick in the lounge, but it was only a matter of time before Jasyn came knocking. I locked the door. I didn’t want to talk to her, I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
I flopped down on my bunk. Was Jerimon right about Tayvis? I didn’t want to believe it, but the doubt was there. It had been almost two years since I’d met him. How much time had we r
eally spent together? A handful of days. And most of those someone was trying to kill one or both of us. I knew how he’d react under that kind of stress, but I didn’t know much else about him. I had no idea what food he liked, what his favorite color was, what his hobbies were.
I rolled over and popped open the storage compartment next to my bunk and looked at the pictures taped to the inside of the door. Someone knocked on the door, I ignored them.
I had a copy of the official Patrol photo of Darus, my father. He was a lot younger in it, his hair a dark brown instead of the gray it was now. He looked serious and not much older than I was. He wore formal Patrol silver. Next to it, a big contrast, was a snapshot of the two of us on Parrus. He was grinning and looking windblown and very happy with himself. I was looking off to one side, just as windblown, only I didn’t look as happy. There were ships in the background, a whole field of Patrol ships and my Phoenix looking very out of place.
They’d called me a hero on Parrus. The Patrol commander had only said good things about me, a drastic change from my usual relationship with the Patrol. No one was calling me a hero now. Was Jerimon right about me? Was I so afraid of being hurt that I kept everyone at a safe distance? I’d kept Darus at arm’s length, that was true. We’d both wanted it that way.
No, Darus had wanted more. He hadn’t known he had a child until I told him who I was. He was thrilled. I wasn’t sure what I felt. I’d held back, not telling him until he’d forced the issue. If he hadn’t, would I ever have told him?
And what about Jasyn? I was closer to her than to anyone in my life. But I still kept her shut out. I held myself apart, even from her. That private central part of me I hadn’t shared with anyone.
Not even Tayvis.
The last two pictures were of him, grainy pictures blown up and taken from larger pictures. He avoided cameras as much as I did.
He knew a lot more about me than I did about him, mostly because he’d read all my files. I hadn’t shared much with him. Was I keeping him at a distance? Had I only convinced myself I was in love with him? He said he loved me. Had he meant it?
I slammed the compartment door shut and rolled over, cursing Jerimon. He’d just shoved my face into my own delusion, forcing me to acknowledge it.
Was I only convinced I was in love with Tayvis because I knew nothing would ever really happen? Is that what I wanted, deep down inside? Was I that afraid of emotional attachments?
To be honest, I had to answer yes. I was afraid of being hurt. I was afraid that if I let myself truly love someone, I would lose them. Selfish? Definitely. Ever since I’d lost my mother, all those long years ago, everything I’d cared about had been stolen from me. It had taken me several months to really, honestly, truly believe that Jasyn wasn’t going to pack up and leave some night.
Was that what I believed Tayvis was going to do? Deep down, did I really think he’d give up the Patrol for me? He had resigned from his position in the Enforcers when I forced him to choose between me and his duty to Lowell. Maybe I could let myself hope that when his enlistment was up in a year, he would let the Patrol go.
That didn’t solve my current problem with Jerimon. If only I weren’t so attracted to him, then maybe I could just ignore him. I’d kick him off the ship on Onipas except he was Jasyn’s brother. She'd never let him go. That was the real complication. If he weren’t Jasyn’s brother I could send him away without a second thought.
And if I’d never met Tayvis, or Jasyn, or Clark, or half a dozen other people, I could have safely kept myself isolated. And miserable. But I wouldn’t have known it.
I muttered more curses into my pillow and tried to ignore the burning tears blurring my eyes. Why did Jerimon have to show up and complicate things? Just when I thought I had it all sorted out.
Ghost landed next to me. She sniffed my face, brushing my cheek with her whiskers. She curled up on my pillow and started purring. I ran my finger under her chin. She purred louder and pushed against my hand. If only humans were as uncomplicated as cats.
I petted the cat and let myself fall asleep.
Ghost woke me sometime later. She jumped up, ears laid back, and hissed. I was groping under my pillow for a gun, one that hadn’t been there for a couple of years, before I was fully awake. I rolled off the bunk and waited, straining to hear anything that would tell me the ship was in trouble. Ghost jumped past me and stalked to the door. She looked back and meowed, an imperative noise that I’d never heard her make before.
The lights cut out abruptly, plunging my cabin into blackness. I froze, listening for the engine noise. The deep vibration was constant, steady as a heartbeat. We were still in hyperspace.
Ghost meowed again. I felt my way the four steps to the door and hit the switch. Nothing happened. I popped off the cover for the controls. I reached inside and found the manual override switch and threw it. I wedged my hand into the door and shoved it apart, sliding the panel into the wall with my shoulder.
The scene beyond could have come from a drug induced nightmare. The emergency lights, two out of the seven that should have been working, cast a weird orange light over the room. The shadows of hundreds of plants made it surreal, a frightening jungle that turned the familiar ship into something alien and strange. There should have been movement and screaming, but the three people in the lounge were still, frozen in place. Jerimon stood by the galley, staring impassively at the sprawled figure of Habim on the floor. Ginni had one hand stuffed in her mouth, staring wide eyed at Habim. One of the access panels in the far wall was off, lying on the floor amid a tangle of wires.
That got my attention. Nobody should have been playing around in that access port. There was no reason it should have been open. Habim must have run out of things to dismantle, I thought as I crossed the room, stepping over his inert form to check on the damage.
"Habim?" Ginni squeaked. My entrance had broken the trance they were in. She dropped to the floor next to the giant. "Habim," she said more urgently.
I knelt by the wires. I could have checked on Habim but I knew little about first aid. My first priority was the ship. If something critical had been damaged, we were all going to die and it wouldn’t matter if Habim had died first.
"Get the handlight under the pilot chair," I ordered Jerimon. I couldn’t see anything in the shadows by the panel.
"Habim," Ginni choked on a sob. She patted his face, rolling his head back and forth.
"What now?" Jasyn said from her cabin doorway.
Clark passed her and knelt down by Ginni. He was the only one of us with any medtech training.
Habim began to twitch and jerk. He made a grunting noise over and over. Clark sprawled over him, trying to pin him down. "Get on his legs," he told Ginni. I wasn’t sure how much good she would do, one of Habim’s legs was as big around as her entire body.
Habim thrashed around in earnest. Jasyn came to join Clark and Ginni.
"Keep him from knocking things around too much," Clark said.
I shifted, using my body to keep him from rolling into the tangle of wires.
Jerimon came back, the beam of the handlight sweeping over the bodies on the floor. "What are you doing?"
"He’s having a seizure," Clark said, sounding strained as he fought to keep Habim from knocking over a tray of seedlings. One of the special plant lights toppled and crashed on the floor in a tinkling of glass. Jerimon handed me the handlight then helped block Habim’s thrashing arms from demolishing more of our cargo.
I shone the light on the wires. The damage was minimal. A few had been disconnected, those for the lights overhead and the door switches. Nothing critical had been touched. I quickly untangled wires and plugged them back into the connectors. The lights overhead came on, night dim. Habim was calming down when I popped the cover back into place.
"Ginni?" Habim asked in a childlike voice.
Clark shifted back. Ginni cradled Habim’s head against her and murmured soothing things to him. Jasyn stood and surveyed the damage. On
e bank of lights was smashed, but only a few of the plants had been knocked over. She picked one up.
"A little bruised, but I think it will recover," she said and put it back with the others.
"What about the ship?" Clark asked me.
"Nothing but a few loose wires." I frowned at Jerimon. "You want to tell us what happened?"
"Jerimon, you’re bleeding," Jasyn said, forgetting the plants in her concern for her brother. "Let me see it."
Jerimon let her pull his hand out. He had a long gash down his forearm.
"It’s got glass in it," Jasyn said, pulling him gently over to the table. She pushed him into a chair then fetched out the first aid kit.
Clark finished checking Habim, making sure he was recovered. He helped Habim up and ushered him into Jerimon’s cabin, followed by Ginni. He came out a moment later and went over to the table. He examined the bleeding stripe down Jeirmon’s arm. He turned the lights up with a spoken command and focused on the cut. It wasn’t that deep, but it was long and ragged. I wasn’t going to get any answers from Jerimon for a while. And I wasn’t going to get any from Ginni or Habim either.
Ghost watched from my doorway, sitting upright with her tail wrapped neatly over her feet. She blinked her big green eyes and chirruped. If she could talk, I’m sure she would have told me all sorts of things.
I went into the cockpit and ran a systems check on the secondary circuits. Everything came back green. I smothered a yawn as I went back into the lounge. Jasyn and Clark were both working over Jerimon’s arm. He had his back to me, which was probably a good thing. I knew somehow that if I’d seen his face he would have been wearing his smug expression. I would have been very tempted to smack it off.
I heard Ginni talking to Habim in Jerimon’s cabin. Her voice was a quiet murmur, too soft to make out words. Habim said something that sounded very sleepy.
I wanted answers. I wanted to know what had happened. I wasn’t going to get them for a while. I gave up and went into my cabin. I might as well try to sleep.
I sat on the bunk and pulled off my boots. I’d been sleeping in them, too distraught with Jerimon’s accusations and the sneaking suspicion that he was right to remember to remove them. Someone knocked at the door, a timid pecking that I barely heard. Ghost quit licking her foot and stared at the door, ears pricked forward. The door slid open and Ginni slipped in. She let the door slide shut behind her, standing almost in its way.