"But the courts will see to that, too. Leave it to the law, Tor," she pleaded.
"Do you know how many peacekeepers Honarie has tucked in his boots? Yatos knew damn well who was with those kidnapped women last night, if the women were there at all. That was a setup to keep all eyes on me and keep Honarie and Orax in the clear. I didn't have to be present to make the plan work, but Honarie also had to know that hopper wasn't fit to transport me anywhere else. Sooner or later, I'd have to show my face on Celos.
"Yatos will swear Honarie was helping him find the culprits and he'll have other peacekeepers to back the story up. They'll blame one of the dead, maybe Gisela, or if that doesn't work, Honarie will lay it all at his brother's feet. After all, Orax is the face of the operation and Honarie is loyal to no one. That bastard will stay on the surface just long enough to build a new crew and then he'll crawl back under his rock out of sight. He's done it before, but it's not going to happen this time, Wynne. I won't let it. This time he pays."
"And how many others will pay with him, Tor? How many of the people who love you will pay the price, too?" Wynne dug at the fingers clutching her shoulder. "Let me go."
"No, Wynne, You have to understand..."
"That's the problem, Tor. I always understand. I understand that skirting the law to bring goods to the outer reaches is your way of honoring your parents and their way of life. It's your gift to them. It has purpose. It has meaning. Digger and Lusomo's deaths were not your fault and sacrificing your life in penance for their loss won't bring them back. It will leave you with a poor excuse for a life spent hiding in a prison built of guilt. That kind of life has no meaning, and false purpose, because it's given as a penance and not as a gift. I understand because I've lived it, Tor, only for you it will be so much worse, because you'll be leaving behind everything and everyone you love.
"That's what you need to understand, Captain. You'll be leaving us to bear the pain of losing you. Add that to your pile of guilt. At least that one will be a guilt trip you truly deserve. Now let me go. I have beds to sort out and cabins to clean."
Tor relaxed his grip and Wynne shook her arm free.
"We won't need them, Wynne. If luck is with us, we'll be in Imperial City by the time we need a bed."
"I thought Imperial City was a rich man's playground. Beds won't come cheap, or are you a rich man and you lied about that, too?" Angry and hurt, she sneered the words.
"Stop it, Wynne. Don't make this harder than it already is. You knew from the beginning what's between us wouldn't work. Your life. My life. You said so yourself."
She'd said it and she'd meant it and now that the time was here, she wanted to take every word of it back. She wanted to say she'd go with him, follow him to the ends of the universe, but in her heart, she knew she'd spoken the truth. She couldn't leave her children. Tor had lied about other things, but never about this. She'd known from the beginning how it would end.
"Leave me with sweet memories, Kushma. They're all I'll have left." He reached for her hand and she couldn't refuse.
"Will you wait for me?" she asked. "Stay in touch somehow? Will the memories last until my children are grown?"
"The memories will last forever, Kushma, but you mustn't wait. I want you to return to your home and find a man who'll give you the life you deserve. Take a chance on those men Mohawk spoke of, the ones who look at you and see what I see. Make a life for yourself, Wynne, and make it a good one. Do that for me so I can enjoy the memories of a princess who touched my heart knowing she's happy."
Happy? She would never be truly happy without Tor. She would strive for content, but never in the arms of another man. She refused to speak the lie aloud, so she smiled at him. It was weak and watery, but it was enough for him to believe she agreed.
"Come back to the Con with me, Wynne. Stay with me and watch while we shift. I want you to see what I see, feel what I feel. I want to share this memory with you, too."
Posy's calm and melodious voice, crackling with static, echoed through the empty cargo hold. "Captain to the bridge. We've got company."
"I have to go." Tor was already moving when another voice chimed in.
"The ring is up and holding steady, Cap. Say the word and this bird is ready to soar." Truca sounded as if she was ready to soar with it. "I told you she was a beauty."
"Actually, she told me it was a piece of flying shit," he chuckled as he broke into a trot.
Wynne trotted behind him. After the Sea Goose's rocky start, she wasn't sure she wanted to see the shift, but this was Tor's life and she wanted more memories, too.
"What have we got?" Tor asked as he took the time to settle Wynne into her seat.
Posy answered without looking back. "Two ships on our tail, approaching fast. They're too far out to identify, but with all the noise we made taking off, my guess would be Wynne's peacekeeper friend."
Ish snickered, but never took her eyes from her screens. One of them prominently displayed a series of rapidly changing figures like those movies that kept you on edge with a countdown to when the bomb would go off.
With Tor's touch to his shoulder, Posy moved back to his original seat.
"Let them get a little closer," Tor said. "Navigator?"
"On course and holding, but we're cutting it close."
"That's what we want, Ish. Make them think the old rust bucket can't shift until it's too late. Send me the count."
Ish's fingers moved and the screen with the rapidly moving figures appeared before Tor.
"Engine room, are you ready?"
"I said I was, didn't I?" the girl's voice snapped with tension.
"Excuse me?" Tor's voice snapped back.
"Oh, uh, sorry. Yo, Captain. Ready and waiting for the count."
"That's better."
"Captain?" The usually unflappable Ish sounded nervous.
"I got it. On my count. Three, two, one, shift."
With the words 'On my count' everybody braced, so Wynne did, too. She gripped the arms of her chair like her life depended on it. When Tor said, 'Shift', she was pressed back into her seat with such force she thought her body flattened to a Wynne shaped pancake. Before she had time to be frightened, it was all over and the windshield before them was filled with a fireworks' display of color and light. Streak after steak of brilliance surrounded them, though none were reflected inside the ship.
She knew Tor was issuing more orders and the others replied, but Wynne heard none of their words. Her mind was consumed with radiance.
She gasped at the beauty of it and laughed with delight as she was reminded of a picture she'd imagined as a little girl. This was what the entrance to heaven would look like. The pearly gates would open before them at any minute. Was this the rush Tor spoke of? She couldn't say it was better than sex, but it was a sight she would never forget.
Truca's worried voice broke through Wynne's amazement.
"Captain, the ring's oscillations are beginning to waver. She won't hold."
"Reduce to two." Tor ordered.
"You can't hit the tunnel at Shift Two, Captain," Posy reminded him in his calm and sultry voice.
"We're not going to make it anyway. The tunnel's closing," Ish added, sounding not nearly so calm.
A dark spot vacillated in the center of the windshield. The edges wavered like a living thing.
"Engine room, reduce to one, then wait for my count."
It was Mohawk's voice that answered. "She heard you, but she's a little busy holding this crap heap together."
The lights began to slow, but Wynne felt no difference in the movement of the ship.
"On my count, Truca."
The dark spot had grown to a pulsating blob and they were headed right for it. Wynne gripped the arms of her chair again.
"Captain," Posy warned.
"Drop her down and disperse the ring. Three, two, one. Now!"
This time, Wynne felt the loss of power. Restraints pressing into her shoulders and chest, she was thrown forward in
her seat, but felt like she was being thrown into the blackness that now filled the windshield.
"Fuck," Ish muttered, but she sounded pleased.
"We did it!" Truca shouted.
"And that's why you call me Captain," Tor crowed. The relief in his voice was the only indication of the tension he'd felt before.
Unlike the light, the surrounding darkness penetrated the cockpit and con. The lights from the computer screens glowed brightly against the black.
"Um, where are we?" Wynne asked. She'd loved the light show, but this darkness made her feel cold.
"Ammon's Tunnel. Creepy, huh?" Ish was enjoying Wynne's discomfort.
Posy showed more compassion. "It will be over shortly. The tunnel will save us time and put the peacekeepers too far behind us to follow."
"We'll arrive on the same day as Honarie," Tor added, before he pressed the button and called out to Truca. "How's my favorite mechanic doing?"
"Other than my wet pants? Pretty damn good. And that's Engineer from now on, Captain. I'm giving myself a promotion."
"You've earned it. Now all we have to do is get you the education to go with it."
Truca laughed. "Too expensive, but there are a couple of texts I'd like to have."
"Consider it done."
Wynne raised her finger and Tor laughed at the gesture. "She's thinking," he said to the others.
"If this, uh, tunnel puts us a day ahead, and I assume that means it will be yesterday, what makes you think we'll arrive on the same day as Honarie? Wouldn't he use the tunnel, too?"
"Those ships we saw at Alamandria's were light years better than that dinky hopper, but they can't shift," Ish explained. "From Celos, Imperial City is well within their range, but only if they fly a direct route. We, on the other hand, travelled a longer distance but shifted and hit the tunnel before it closed not only skipping time, but leaving that sleazy peacekeeper like a tiny and twinkling little star behind us."
"Out of the darkness and into the light," Posy intoned. "Feeling better now?"
At the receding darkness, Wynne nodded. "Much."
"Engineer?" Tor called. "Ready to build that ring and shift again?"
"Don't see why not, Captain. My pants are already wet," Truca answered cheerfully. "But can we keep it at two? Mohawk wasn't nearly as adorable once we hit three." Mohawk's muttered curses could be heard behind her giggles.
"Keep me informed." Tor released the button before he added. "I think our girl is back."
Ish exchanged a glance with Wynne. "I'm wondering if I was wrong. I'm wondering if maybe..."
"She's stronger than you thought?" Wynne asked sweetly because she knew Ish hated sweet. "Strength lies in knowing what weapons you have and how best to use them. You taught me that, Ish, when you were prattling on and on about knives. You've probably taught Truca that, too. Her genius with machinery and knowledge of engines are her weapons. With her weapons in hand, she isn't feeling powerless anymore."
Wynne was hoping for a conceding grin, but was just as happy with Ish's eye roll and reply.
"I'm wondering if maybe you aren't as stupid as you look and only half as weak."
"Why, thank you, Ish. I like you, too."
Chapter 25
Plans changed. Tor didn't like it, but Wynne's idea was the best by far and the most likely to succeed.
"It only makes sense, Tor. I still have these doohickeys on my face and Alamandria loaded me up with everything I need to launch my burgeoning career as a cosma mordata, so I may as well put them to good use."
"Mordata cosma," Truca corrected.
Wynne laughed. "Oh, yeah, I guess I had it backwards."
"How the hell are you going to be one if you can't remember how to pronounce it," Mohawk grumbled.
"I'm not going to be one. I'm going to pretend to be one. I don't think I'll be required to say it," she huffed. "I won't have to say anything at all, just strut my stuff." She shimmied her shoulders and hips.
Posy groaned. "Prayers to my goddess, don't do it like that."
"You want his eyes on me, don't you?"
"No," Tor said.
Posy ignored him. "Yes, but a mordata cosma does flaunt, she entices." The Basker gracefully glided across the floor, hips swaying. He stopped, and with big feet daintily poised, turned. Elbow bent and forearm raised, he tipped his hand backward in a haughty and very feminine gesture. With a long cigarette holder and a martini, he could have made it big in the movies of the 1940s.
"Wow, a navy blue Bette Davis. Do that again."
He did and Wynne followed his every move. "How's that?" she asked.
"Better, but use a little less sway in the hips." He looked around at the others. "What? I was raised as an assassin. You do whatever it takes to get close to your assignment. I'm very good with cosmetics, too. This..." He touched his cheek and cocked his head in another very feminine gesture. "Is not an easy complexion to disguise. By the way, my dear, I hope Alamandria had the good sense to pack gloves. Your hands are atrocious." He held out his hand to her. "Let's go get you dressed."
"Over your dead body," Tor snarled. That was exactly how the big blue guy got women naked. He made them believe he was harmless. Combined with his tribe's dangerous reputation, it was a winning combination.
"I wasn't going to touch," Posy protested and then threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, Ish can go with her, but no leather," he warned.
"I got it. Tastefully enticing, not doxie on the dock."
They were in there now. Posy was allowed in only after Wynne was dressed. Tor, at the helm, had no opportunity to see the result.
"We're approaching the city," he called, wishing they had individual units instead the all-call ship's system. "Engineer, acceleration control to the pilot."
"Yo, Captain. Pilot has the controls."
Posy was at his side, ready to take his place. He slipped into the pilot's seat while Mohawk took the co-pilot's.
"What do I do?" Mohawk asked.
"Look bored," Posy answered. "That's what I do. Go away now, Tor. The Captain has the helm." He proceeded to contact the Dock Master. "This is Posituralonius, Captain of the Sea Goose, requesting to make port and debark."
"How many in your party, Captain, and what is your purpose?"
"Four. A mordata cosma and her Companion, my co-pilot, and myself. Our purpose is pleasure, though I doubt my co-pilot can afford it," he joked.
"Can you?" the Dock Master chuckled.
"I only get here once every few years."
"I hear that. I live here and can't enjoy it but once every few years. Welcome to Imperial City." He gave his instructions. "I'll need your papers and manifest prior to debarkation."
Tor joined Ish and Truca at the rear hatch where they wouldn't be seen. This was something else he didn't like. He would have preferred Truca stay with the ship, but she was half Mohawk's weight and she would recognize the Sky Hawk no matter its new name. Also, as the girl herself pointed out, her age would be questioned if she tried to pose as co-pilot.
Everything went as planned. Posy brought them in with experienced ease and when the giant sliding doors sealed behind them, he taxied to the slip at the direction of the Dock Master. It was almost directly in front of the master's windowed office, which wasn't ideal, but couldn't be helped. Engines turned off and left to cool, Posy left the ship without hurry.
Mohawk called to Wynne when their pilot was in full view through the Dock Master's window. He then called out her progress.
"She looks like a queen ordering her guard to leave her alone. She's walking to the front of the ship. She's walking back and forth. She's got that swivel hip thing down pretty good. She's giving the guy an eyeful and he's enjoying it."
Tor wanted to give the Dock Master an eyeful of his fist.
Ish snickered and called back to Mohawk. "Just tell us when it's safe to leave, hopefully before the Captain's head explodes."
Moments later, Mohawk made the call.
"Good hunting. Let me
know when you're back and I'll flag you when it's safe to board."
Fully armed, they crept from a rear hatch and began their search. The two women went one way while Tor went another. This part of the port was meant for passenger arrivals and while the floor of the wide walkway was brightly lit, the docking slips were not. Overhead lighting from the high dome cast wavering shadows and as planned, they used those shadows as cover to avoid the notice of the security guards that patrolled the dock. It was a matter of trotting from hull to hull until they found the right one. Much sooner than Tor expected, Ish was back.
"Where's Truca?"
"Keeping an eye on our ship and trying to get a head count of the bad guys."
"You left her alone?"
"She's not a child, Tor. She needs to pull her weight. She needs to know she can. Besides, what's it to you? You're leaving her to fend for herself."
"You've been talking to Wynne."
"I almost said smart man, but you're not. Come on. It's this way."
They had to pause when they reached the Sea Goose. The lights were on in the cockpit and the glow spread like a beacon across the dock. That wasn't part of the plan, but it wasn't hard to discern the purpose. Four guards stood over by the Dock Master's office, enjoying the show, a show for which Tor had no seat. The flat face of the ship prevented him from looking in without chancing exposure.
"What are they looking at?" he complained. "What the fuck did you dress her in?"
Ish grabbed his arm, leaned out and grinned when he yanked her back. "Whoa, it wasn't that. I, at least, showed some good taste. She must have changed."
Into what? The Osana's evil grin said she wanted him to ask, but Tor wasn't about to add to her enjoyment. Instead, he made a fool of himself and scolded like an old woman.
Tor (Women of Earth Book 2) Page 24