by Cheree Alsop
Tariq shook his head. “I don’t know why I saw that. It felt so real.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Liora said. She didn’t know how to erase the agony from his gaze. It was as if he had experienced losing his wife all over again, and this time from Liora’s hand.
“I know,” he replied, but he lowered his gaze to the floor as if he couldn’t meet her eyes.
Liora had hurt him again, even if there had been nothing she could do to prevent it. Just being near her had caused him more pain. She rose.
“I’m going to go,” she said.
Tariq caught her hand as she turned away.
“Liora.”
He said her name so gently it made her eyes fill with tears. She refused to let them fall. As much as she wanted to stay, she couldn’t face him. The sensations that came with killing his family had been all too real. Her hand remembered the weight of the knife she had held and the simple effort it had taken to plunge it into Dannan’s body and then Lissy’s. She rubbed her palms on her pants, but the feeling refused to go away.
She took a calming breath and forced a composed expression to chase the regret from her face.
“I’m going to head to the cafeteria before Devren comes back looking for us.”
“Good idea,” Tariq replied. He watched her, his eyes cloudy.
Liora crossed to the door. She put her palm to the reader and it slid open. She glanced back once to see Tariq still standing where he had been. His eyes lingered on the bed at their feet, but his gaze was distant as though he saw something else instead.
When she reached the cafeteria, Liora was still caught thinking about the dream. Someone called her name and she jerked back to the present.
The room she stood in could have fit the entire Kratos. The ceiling arched high above, ending in a dome of windows that showed the stars beyond. Rows upon rows of tables before her were filled with all manner of mortalkind. The scents of so many varieties of foods filled her nose, and the strange spices made her want to sneeze.
“Liora, over here.”
She spotted Devren and the others near the wall at the far end. Devren pointed to the spot next to him where there was already a tray laden with food. Relieved that she wouldn’t have to brave the long line of people still waiting to be served, Liora made her way to the others.
“Have you seen Tariq?” Devren asked when she sat down. “I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer. I assumed we would find him here.” He waved a hand. “But good luck spotting anyone in this chaos.”
“I haven’t seen him.” She hoped Devren didn’t hear the way her voice fell flat at the lie. She wasn’t prepared to face the inevitable questions that would ensue if she mentioned that they had fallen to sleep together in her room.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Hyrin said. “Tariq’s never been one to turn down a good meal.” He leaned closer to Liora and whispered conspiratorially, “Jarston mentioned that Tariq raids the Kratos kitchen at night if he can’t sleep. He often leaves a slice of pie out for our chief medical officer just in case.”
The thought brought a small smile to Liora’s lips. “That’s nice of him.”
“There he is,” Hyrin said.
“Tariq, over here,” Devren called.
Liora pretended to be fully immersed in the food in front of her. She didn’t glance up until Tariq took the seat across the table from her. He met her gaze, then looked away as if he couldn’t quite bear to see her. She turned her attention back to her food, but the reds stood out with too much contrast to the rest and she couldn’t make herself take a bite.
“And when I hit it, guts squished out everywhere,” Hyrin was telling Devren.
Liora gave him a searching look.
“Uh, the bug in my room,” Hyrin said. His eyes blinked rapidly as if her expression disconcerted him. “It was massive.”
“I’m sure you handled it with ease,” Tariq replied. “Don’t you think, Liora?”
He gave her a smile, but she still saw the mixed emotions buried beneath his calm demeanor where less than an hour before there had only been something warm and enveloping.
She hadn’t murdered Dannan and Lissy, as much as it felt like she had. But if she wasn’t the one responsible for their lifeless bodies spilling blood on the white carpet of Tariq’s homestead apartment, why did she feel so guilty? She had killed many people, so why did the two she had nothing to do with haunt her more than any of them?
Liora stood with her tray.
“Going already?” Devren asked.
“I’m not really hungry,” she said, though the rumble in her stomach argued otherwise.
Devren nodded, concern bright in his eyes. “Perhaps you need some more rest. You look pale.”
She forced a smile. “I am still a bit worn out. I think sleep will help.”
She walked away from the table without looking at anyone else.
She thought she heard Tariq speak her name, but it could have been just her imagination. The noise of the crowd, the sound of utensils on trays, and the calls of strangers in a multitude of tongues became a muted roar she welcomed to drive the confusion from her mind.
She had dumped the uneaten portion of her food into the chute designated in several languages for that purpose and set her tray on a stack near the door when someone spoke next to her.
“It’s Liora, right?”
She glanced over and found Brandis watching her.
He smiled. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
She shoved her disconcerting thoughts away and focused. “It was kind of you to rescue our crew. We’re in your debt.”
Brandis shook his head. “Nonsense. We happened to be in the area.”
Liora thought of Insa’s comment about how quickly the Eos had rushed from the Milky Way Galaxy to the Gull.
“What a fortunate coincidence,” she replied.
Brandis nodded. “Most fortunate.” He indicated the tray she had just set down. “Did you get enough to eat? I hope you found the food to your liking. Our chefs try to offer a variety of options to meet the diversity of palates aboard the Eos.”
“The food was fine,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”
Brandis paused as if searching for something else to say. She wondered why he took the time to talk to her when he obviously had so much that demanded his attention aboard the massive starship.
As if in answer to her unspoken thought, he said, “Allow me to give you a tour of the Eos. It, like the rest of our merchant fleet, offers a vast array of sights unlike anything else in the Macrocosm.”
“A tour, huh?”
The voice set Liora on edge. She met the glare of a Gaul who leaned against the nearest wall with his thick arms crossed. He watched her with narrow eyes in the same way that a predator watches a pest.
“Yes, Knox. Do you have a problem with that?” Brandis replied. He showed no sign of being bothered by the Gaul’s angry tone.
“I think the less this Damaclan sees of the Eos, the better,” Knox replied; his face twisted in distaste at the word Damaclan.
“Liora and the rest of her crew are guests aboard the Eos,” Brandis replied calmly. “I ask that you show her respect.”
“For what?” Knox demanded. The sounds of talking in the cafeteria fell away. “For being a murderous cutthroat? For thriving on bloodshed and fear?” He leaned closer to Liora. “Want my respect, little Damaclan? Curl up and die. Perhaps I can respect the way the rotting of your body leaves the Macrocosm a little safer.”
Liora felt as much as saw Tariq and Devren come up beside them. Both humans looked angry enough to take on the Gaul themselves.
“Knox,” Brandis said with warning in his voice. “Apologize or face the consequences.”
“I’ll never apologize to a race that is far inferior in both intellect and diplomacy,” the Gaul replied. He bent so that his big ox nose was right in front of Liora’s face. “You Damaclans gave up any chance at respect when you chose violence ins
tead of amity and slaughter instead of peace.”
“And what facet of peace are you showing right now?” Liora replied.
The Gaul’s eyes narrowed and he snorted in anger. Liora swore she saw the ghost of a smile brush Brandis’ face, but she kept her gaze on the Gaul.
“How dare you question me?” he growled. He grabbed her with a meaty hand.
The moment he touched her, Liora reacted. She caught his hand in an iron grip, ducked beneath it and spun, locking his arm behind his back. She punched his kidney twice, then drove the ball of her foot into the back of his knee. He hit the ground hard. Keeping ahold of his hand, she rolled over his back and used her momentum to throw him over her. He landed on his back on the tiled floor. She grabbed a fork from Tariq’s tray, knelt on his arms, and pressed the tines against his shaggy throat.
“You attacked me, Gaul,” she said, her voice deep with anger. “I didn’t say a word, I didn’t hurt a soul aboard your ship, yet you laid into me with hatred and prejudice before you even knew my name.” She glared down at him. “You say mine is a race of lower intellect? Perhaps you should reevaluate your superiority before you accost someone with the ability to cut your throat with a fork and not think twice about it.”
Liora realized there wasn’t a single sound in the entire cafeteria. It shouldn’t be possible that so many individuals could hold completely still. Knowing what she would find, she raised her gaze to see that every person watched in silence. Some stood above the others on the chairs and benches to get a better view. Fear, awe, and confusion showed on the faces around the tables.
Liora was tired of being a show. She reminded herself that she had chosen to act. She should have just walked away, but she couldn’t pass up the chance to teach the huge Gaul a lesson, especially when he laid a hand on her.
Liora breathed out slowly through her nose. She may have just single-handedly eliminated the welcome the Kratos crew had found aboard the Eos. Attacking a member of the starship that had rescued them didn’t exactly fall under the friendly relations section of the crew’s public affairs handbook.
Yet she vaguely recalled Brandis’ smile. If it wasn’t a figment of her imagination, it may be the one thing to alleviate the situation before they were sent packing.
Liora looked up at Brandis. The human watched her with raised eyebrows and a half-smile on his face as though she had just exceeded his expectations. That fact that he wasn’t upset gave her hope.
Liora rose slowly to her feet, careful to keep an eye on the Gaul in case he tried to retaliate. There were a few ways she knew she could handle the situation that might allow the tension to diffuse; taking a page from Tariq’s book, she went with sarcastic humor.
“I apologize for my reaction,” she said loudly enough that it would carry through the cafeteria. “I get a bit cranky when I haven’t had enough sleep.”
Brandis chuckled and the sound of laughter rolled through the crowd.
She set the fork back on Tariq’s tray. “I’d recommend washing that,” she said.
More laughter met her words.
She looked at Brandis. “What were you saying about a tour?”
“Ah, yes, the tour,” Brandis replied. He gave a sweep of his arm toward the cafeteria’s double doors. “Right this way.”
Devren and Tariq followed, with Hyrin hurrying to catch up. Everyone gave the Gaul on the ground a wide berth.
As soon as the cafeteria doors slid shut, Brandis let out a low whistle.
“That was impressive.”
“I’m sorry,” Liora began, but she paused when Brandis held up a hand.
“No need to apologize. If a member of my crew accosts a guest aboard the Eos, the guest should feel secure enough to defend him or herself.” He paused, then said, “In your case, I’ll admit that I wanted it to happen.”
Liora stared at him. “You what?”
Tariq crossed his arms and glared at Brandis. “Did you set Liora up?”
Brandis held up both hands. “No, no; nothing like that.” He gave Liora an assessing look. “Though the rumors of a female Damaclan wreaking havoc around the Macrocosm has preceded you. I’ll admit that I was curious about the accuracy of the stories.”
“So you did smile,” Liora said.
“What are you talking about?” Devren asked.
“I did,” Brandis acknowledged. “Knox gets a bit full of himself. He’ll undergo disciplinary action for attempting to bully one of my guests, though I’m hoping he learned something from his encounter with you.”
“That goes far beyond bullying,” Hyrin pointed out.
Brandis nodded. “I figured Liora could handle herself.”
The way he said her name with such familiarity bothered Liora. She watched him as he led the way through the ship, holding true to his promise to give them a tour. When the others were staring at the vast manufacturing system that made up the production floor, Liora caught Brandis studying her with a thoughtful expression.
He showed them through the massive water recycling chambers and the adjoining greenhouses that took up the entire belly of the ship and stretched so far the end wasn’t visible from the door.
“We even grow our own flowers,” Brandis said. He opened the door and motioned for Liora to step through into a smaller room. “While some of them are edible, we enjoy the rest for their aesthetic appeal. It’s much easier to feel at ease aboard a merchant ship when the comforts of home are available.”
Liora gazed at the variety of flowers that filled the room in every color she could imagine. She breathed deeply of the delicate scent that laced the air, sure she had never smelled something so beautiful in her entire life.
“Go ahead and look around,” Brandis urged.
Liora wandered through the aisles. She had heard about roses but never seen their beauty. Her hand strayed to one with purple petals. She pulled back at the last moment, reminding herself that to touch one would be rude given the courtesy Brandis had already shown them.
“Take it,” Brandis said from the next row.
“I couldn’t,” Liora replied.
He leaned over and cut the rose with a knife she hadn’t noticed was strapped at his wrist beneath his shirtsleeve. Perhaps Brandis didn’t leave as many things to chance as she assumed.
He held the rose out. “It’s yours.”
Liora accepted it, careful not to touch the thorns that lined the stem.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“I didn’t know Damaclans appreciated beauty,” Brandis replied.
At her questioning look, he appeared self-conscious for the first time. “Pardon my rudeness. I didn’t mean to imply that Damaclans are without the ability to enjoy beauty; the race has just never struck me as, well, one to appreciate the appeal of flowers.”
Liora took pity on his fumbling. “No offense taken. I’m only half-Damaclan. Where beauty might be seen as a weakness in my clan, I find the reminder of my humanity to be reassuring.”
Brandis gave her a curious look. “Do you regret the tattoos?”
Liora glanced to the right and found Tariq watching them with an unreadable expression on his face. He was too far away to hear what they were talking about, but it was obvious he didn’t know how to feel about Brandis.
Liora shook her head, grateful to have some space from him after the dream. “I can’t deny my heritage. It might make me a target, but it’s also a warning as much as the stripes of a swarthan. One can’t detain me by accident.”
“So you weren’t surprised by Knox’s attack.”
“Not at all,” Liora replied. “It tends to happen in large crowds. Damaclans aren’t exactly anyone’s favorite race. We leave blood and carnage in our wake. We deserve what we get.”
“You mean they deserve what they get,” Brandis replied. “You’re not really one of them.”
“Ask Knox about that,” Liora replied.
Brandis’ wristband beeped.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said. He pushe
d a button on the band. “Yes, Captain Hart?”
“We’ve reached NGC Four Zero Four,” Captain Hart replied. “The homestead ships are waiting.”
“Send out the welcome beacon,” Brandis told her. “Let’s open shop.”
He gave Liora a smile. “Come see the controlled chaos of system to system peddling.”
Chapter 22
Liora stared at the hundreds of ships lined up to dock at the Golden Condor’s port.
“How can they handle so many people?” she asked no one in particular.
Despite her concerns, it appeared the Eos was well-equipped for such an influx. Their view on the walkway above the market hall showed the organization of hundreds of vendors arranged by product and craft. The staff of the Eos escorted the members of each ship through with marked efficiency, and when the homestead, Coalition, and rebel ships left, the individuals carried their purchased wares with pleased expressions.
“Impressive,” Hyrin remarked.
“It seems Brandis’ family has vending down to an art form,” Devren replied.
“Let’s see it firsthand,” Tariq suggested.
“Are you volunteering to go down there?” Devren asked.
Tariq appeared bothered by his friend’s surprised tone. “I have been known to mingle at times.”
“By choice?”
Tariq’s jaw clenched before he said, “When it suits me.” He motioned to Liora. “What do you say? You might find something more appealing than a flower full of thorns.”
Liora followed Tariq down the stairs and the others fell in behind them. The control they had seen above appeared to dissipate the moment they reached the floor. The crowds rushed past intent on filling the lists they each scanned through on their armbands. There was no hawking like Liora was used to at the circus. Instead, signs bearing prices were held by silent vendors who merely exchanged bars and thanked purchasers with calm, low voices. There was no haggling, and nobody appeared surprised at the amounts being charged.
“A sack of stano leaf for four copper bars?” Officer Hyrin said. “Captain Devren, we should be shopping here instead of the Gauldeds.”
Devren nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. The prices are reasonable considering the goods have been flown across the Macrocosm.”