by Lyn Gala
“Now, Da’shay—” Ramsay started saying, and his tone the sort he might use with a frightened child.
“It doesn’t make any difference,” Tom promised. He caught her arm, but she kept going, pulling him right along.
“I’m was just reminding him to be polite to—”
“No!” Da’shay reached Ramsay and poked him in the chest. Ramsay had been looking vaguely amused, but Da’shay poked him hard enough that Ramsay’s eyes flew open in surprise and he stumbled back, his arms windmilling as he struggled to catch his balance. Tom yanked hard on Da’shay’s arm and didn’t even slow her down as she went after him.
“Didn’t see. Didn’t see and now you come in and make gray out of white. Stop Tom’ing him.”
Maybe Ramsay had finally gotten the message, because he held up his hand in surrender. “I’m not trying to take him away.”
“Yes, you are.” Her expression got hard. “‘Tom, stop following her.’ ‘Tom, stay on the ship.’ ‘Tom, don’t trust yourself.’ Thoughts and whispers in ugly colors. And you think you know more because all your lines are straight and not like…” Da’shay’s face twisted and she poked at him again. This time Ramsay flung himself backward before she made contact. “Like ant trails winding through the forest, each thought following the chemical trail of the one laid down before. Wandering blind with no chemical to follow. Stop it. Stop thinking it.”
“I ain’t thinking anything except maybe I’d appreciate it if you stopped poking at me. Tom, you want to do something?” Ramsay kept his hands up in surrender.
Da’shay made a low, wailing cry that froze the blood in Tom’s veins. He caught hold of both her arms and tried to pull her around to face him. She was God-almighty angry and he could see that same expression on her face that she’d worn on that vid when she’d cut those slavers to pieces.
“He’s just being a moron,” Tom said. “I’m a moron on a fairly regular basis, so if you’re going to start taking that personally, you’d best tell me now so I know to avoid you. But if you’re going to be around old soldiers like me and Ramsay, you have to be used to a little stupid.”
Da’shay stood, her breath fast as she looked at Tom with blackened eyes. Slowly, she brought her hand up and touched his cheek, her eyes falling closed. “My Tom,” she whispered, and now Tom could hear the desperation in that tone. He knew how that felt, to want someone so much that you were dying inside for need of them. Tom pulled her close. Maybe he didn’t always know what to do, but he did know how to hold on tight when someone was feeling lost.
“Your Tom,” he promised her, holding her so tight that a human woman would have been complaining. Da’shay’s breathing slowed and a shiver went through her body.
Without letting go of Da’shay, Tom looked over at Ramsay. “Da’shay’s right, Captain. I can’t follow orders from both of you if you two won’t even listen to each other, so I have to choose. I’m choosing her. I said that before and I meant it. Now Da’shay wanted you to know there was something going on here, so I have to believe she has some reason for thinking that’s important. But if you go assuming she’s wrong just because of who she is, you’re going to make her plenty angry.”
“So, you want me to accept what she says with blind faith?”
Tom thought about that. “I reckon me following with blind faith is enough, but it’d be nice if you weren’t just plain blind. Kada’s intel looks reasonably good, and if Hou were trying to frame us, he could pick us up right now. The second he started digging deep enough into the Kratos’ background, he would have stirred up some shit on us, especially if he has sources this deep.”
Da’shay’s hand caressed his cheek and Tom could feel his face getting warm as her other hand crept down to cup his privates before she curled fingers between the buttons on his shirt to touch the skin below. His dick was getting hard and the hand on his cheek slipped back behind his neck to pull him close. Tom groaned.
“Too many ant trails. Can’t let him lay down another one,” Da’shay whispered, and she had an oddly apologetic tone in her voice.
“Don’t understand a word of that, but I figure you’re only doing what you have to,” Tom reassured her.
He no more than finished before she whirled around, ripping herself out of his arms and going on full attack against Ramsay. Ramsay blocked her first blow and then scrambled for his gun, but before he could get his weapon clear, Da’shay had an arm across his throat and had him pinned to the wall. With her other hand, she trapped his gun hand so that he was holding his gun, but he couldn’t pull it clear of the holster.
Kada had gotten up and scrambled back away from the fight, but Tom wasn’t sure what to do. He’d follow Da’shay, but that sure didn’t mean he was okay with her killing the captain. Before Tom could decide to do anything, Ramsay threw a hard punch with his left. Tom could hear the thud of flesh against flesh, but Da’shay barely even swayed from the hit, and the look of utter panic on Ramsay’s face meant she was retaliating—either squeezing his gun hand or pressing off the air with the arm across his throat.
“Want you to see, but you can’t lead. Follow, walk away, don’t care. You don’t lead. Can’t lead. Human colors and human thoughts…straight lines turn cat’s cradle in a maze of all circles. Stop trying to lead.” She held him for another long minute, but the look of anger had faded out of her face, so Tom was hoping she wasn’t killing mad anymore. Every single blessed thing she’d done had made sense after the fact, and he was really hoping that was going to be true this time too. More than that, he was going to put his faith in that. For the first time in a lot of years, Tom was putting all his faith in something other than his own ability to shoot straight.
She let go and backed away, her body still curled and bent as if she was ready to spring on Ramsay. For his part, Ramsay ignored her; he sank to the ground, coughing and rubbing his throat. “If that’s your idea of playing the devil with someone—” Ramsay had to give up talking when another coughing spell hit him.
Tom moved to Da’shay’s side and ran a hand up and down her back to soothe her. She started to hum as she leaned into him, her arm slipping around his waist. “I reckon she’s not teasing, Captain.” Ramsay looked up and his expression was still full of disbelief. “A mission can only have one Commander and you ain’t it this time.”
Ramsay grew still. “The last time I followed someone was the war and I can’t say I like how that turned out. I spent three years strapped down and drugged while casslit poked and prodded me, looking for better ways to kill humans. You can’t suggest that she’s got the DNA of some species we don’t know—something that looks a hell of a lot like casslit—and then tell me I have to follow blindly. I ain’t built like that, Tom.”
Da’shay looked up at Ramsay. “Then walk beside…silently. Then walk away. Don’t lead.”
“Seems like she’s being real fair, especially considering that she could have just killed you,” Tom pointed out. But it also seemed like a good time to change the topic. Da’shay never was going to be able to explain why she felt so strong and Ramsay wasn’t one for stepping back and letting someone else make the decisions. About half the seconds who’d ever served on the ship in the last six years had asked for a transfer because Ramsay expected them to follow orders blindly and never take their turn at learning to lead.
Tom turned to Kada. “So, Da’shay said you had some other color running through your brain. Whatever you’ve got to say, just say it,” Tom said. He tried to keep his voice a little quieter so this time Ramsay didn’t have cause to get on him. He figured if the captain aggravated Da’shay one more time, broken bones would likely be involved.
“I—” Kada froze.
“Like diamonds with no light source, all colors gone.” Da’shay sighed and leaned into Tom. Tom figured if he was as small as Kada and stuck in a room with fighting people, his brain would lose all the colors too.
“What were we talking on?” Tom looked at Da’shay and then at the captain.
Da’shay sucked in a fast breath. “Prisms through the diamond.” She smiled at Kada, who was still looking a good bit of panicked.
“So, say what you’re thinking,” Tom prompted him.
“I mean no offense,” he started, his voice shaky.
Ramsay stepped forward. “As much as my crew’s been offending me lately, I’m not sure it’d even bother me if you went and called me old, ugly and as smelly as my late Aunty Nee three days after she was dead. It’s fine to say what you’re thinking.” Ramsay had his victim-voice on again, but Kada didn’t seem near as annoyed by it as Tom.
“The independent colonies just don’t spend as much time worrying about Corps controlled space as you seem to spend worrying about us, that’s all. Our government isn’t as big and we don’t pay the same amount in taxes to keep some oversized, rule-happy, secrets-obsessed government well-fed with credits.”
“Your government lets you get turned into a slave and you’re criticizing us?” Ramsay seemed shocked, but Tom figured Kada wasn’t totally off the mark. He’d still rather have all that than live on a planet that put up with slavery.
“Finish the report,” Da’shay interrupted before Ramsay could go off on some rant of his own.
Kada nodded. “Thirteen years and seventy-two days ago, marauders started making references to trading ‘wet tech.’ There’s no description of the technical specifications, but even the earliest posts to the e-boards make it clear this is an established term and over the next few years, I found requests for wet drives, wet comms and wet relays. Starting six years ago, there was a sharp drop in the number of times the wet tech was mentioned and the last reference was four years, fifty-five days ago.” Kada inched back toward his computer, his gaze on Ramsay. One tap and a series of postings from a discussion board flashed across the screen. Da’shay moved closer to the screen. Raising her hand, she touched a name. A profile opened to show the public information, including a picture of a man so old he looked as if he were dead already. Or he might if it weren’t for his sharp eyes.
Tom looked at all the evidence lined up on the vid. Kada didn’t have time to create all that, so Tom figured it was real. “I know I’m one for seeing enemies behind every corner, but you have to admit that looks like a conspiracy.”
“Only if we believe intel from a questionable source,” Ramsay said. Tom noticed that the captain kept his hand on his gun and his gaze on Da’shay. “As far as I’m concerned, Hou is still a suspect in blowing us up and all this is nothing more than speculation, something for people back home to worry over.”
Da’shay sighed. “Come and come and come,” she said. Catching Tom’s leash, she started for the door without giving him time to grab their carryall. Kada tapped something before hurrying to follow and all the tech started to sink back into the floor.
“Are we going to discuss this?” Ramsay asked.
“Nope.” Da’shay didn’t even pause.
“Either put a little trust in Da’shay or go back to the Kratos and do nothing,” Tom pointed out. Ramsay always hated doing nothing. During surveillance, when Tom would settle down and wait for the target, Ramsay would fidget and fuss.
“This is stupid,” Ramsay muttered, but he followed.
Tom leaned in to whisper to Da’shay. “You got a plan, right?”
“Slip away from human colors. New prisms, new diamonds,” she answered. Being that Tom was human, he wasn’t so sure that sounded good, but she’d kept him safe, even when he’d been cursing her out and blaming her because Ramsay had put them in a God-awful bad spot. He figured he could trust her even if she did slip away from human colors. If he couldn’t…well, he supposed he wouldn’t have long to worry about it if that happened.
She was already on the escalator and she stopped and tilted her head. She was on the step ahead of him, so she was shorter than normal. It made her look odd. Before Tom could say anything, she stepped back up onto his level, pushing him up against the rail as she wrapped her fist around his leash.
“I ain’t going anywhere,” he promised her, slipping one hand around to the small of her back.
She hummed. “Want to share colors,” she finally said in a defeated voice.
“I know,” Tom agreed. “I never did have a captain that shared even half of what he was thinking, so as long as you can promise me that you know what you’re doing, I’ll follow. I don’t have to understand to shoot whatever target you point me at.”
Da’shay tightened her hand around his leash until he could feel his neck strain against the weight of her hand pulling down at on the collar. Her hum got lower as she leaned close, and while she might not be using words, Tom couldn’t help but think she was making some sort of promise.
“This is feeling like such a bad idea,” Ramsay muttered. Tom had to disagree with the captain. This was feeling as though maybe Da’shay finally knew where to go.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Da’shay took off the second they reached the bottom of the last escalator and rejoined the more crowded public spaces. She didn’t stop until she’d led them through corridors and down stairs and escalators into a section of the lower town Tom hadn’t seen before. Like the part where they’d been when they first came, this was deep enough that no natural light reached it, so a line of yellow lights hung from the ceiling and cast an ugly glow on the gray walls Tom walked closer to Da’shay, his hand on his weapon. People moved carefully, their eyes checking the shadows and their hands near their guns.
Kada moved forward until he was almost plastered to Da’shay’s other side and Ramsay was muttering behind them. However, when Tom glanced back, he was keeping an eye on their six. The captain might complain, but he still had their backs.
Da’shay’s finger whipped out and she pointed toward a shadow. Tom had his gun out and targeted before he even noticed the dark face hidden behind a tall sign with a picture of an axle and a sniper rifle standing on their ends. The man smiled and raised his hands to show he meant no harm, but Tom kept his gun steady as Kada and then Ramsay passed him. Eventually the leash pulled tight and Tom backed up away from the alley, turning to trot after Da’shay only after he’d made his point clear.
Ramsay had shifted to the side and behind Da’shay and Kada to watch the rear better and Tom hurried to Da’shay’s side as he holstered his weapon again. She didn’t say anything, but she caught his leash closer to the collar and kept walking. There was something different in the angle of her shoulder and the way she walked, but he didn’t have too much time to think about it considering he was trying to keep an eye out on the crowd. He was starting to be really sorry he hadn’t insisted on grabbing at least one of the rifles out of the carryall they’d abandoned in Hou’s apartment.
She stopped just outside an arched entrance carved into the rock itself. A man was leaning against the wall, his pose too casual for comfort. People who worked too hard at not looking dangerous made Tom itch and he glared at the man, trusting Ramsay to keep an eye on other trouble that might develop.
Da’shay gave his leash a sharp yank and Tom tried to dial back the aggression a bit. “Open,” Da’shay ordered.
The man turned a slow eye toward Da’shay and looked her over. “Don’t want any trouble, genta, but this place isn’t friendly for your kind.”
She didn’t give any hint of aggression before darting forward with inhuman speed and catching the guy by the belt and flinging him backward, toward Tom. Tom barely had time to bring his fist up before the guard ran his face right into it. The force of the blow propelled him back toward Da’shay and she caught his arm and slammed his face into the wall before catching his hand and pressing it to the biometric lock. Tom was a little surprised. That was the sort of solution he usually proposed and Ramsay ignored.
Still silent,
Da’shay tossed the guard to the side the moment the door clicked open and headed into the dark space beyond. Tom’s guts were screaming at the danger as he followed her into what looked like a poorly lit and perfectly empty stone chamber. Kada followed. He looked pale and ill, but he was still on his feet and that was more than Tom had expected at this point. For a second, Tom thought Ramsay was going to back away, but with a softly muttered curse, he came into the chamber and let the door click shut behind him.
One of the rock walls slid away to reveal a staircase going down another level. Ramsay was still muttering, but Da’shay started down the stairs and the leash was short enough that Tom had to follow on her heels, a bit quicker than he would have liked. He didn’t even have time to properly check on enemy positions or weapons before he was halfway down the stairs. No wonder they didn’t want a genta in the place. Weapons lined the walls—blades and guns and lasers in every size and shape. A good number were illegal in Command controlled space and some were illegal in the colonies too. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Tom ran a hand over an S-series percussion shoulder bomber. A heavy bolt and strap held it to the wall, but a laser could cut through that easy enough. Hell, Da’shay might be able to break it with her bare hands.
A heavy-set man walked toward them, but Tom was guessing the real power was the wizened old man who sat near the counter, watching everything with sharp eyes. His arthritic hands scrolled through data on his screen.
The heavy-set one gave a smile that showed off a gap where he’d lost a front tooth. “Welcome to the shop. We don’t normally have genta in here. Perhaps you’d like to visit one of our other establishments. I could provide—” Da’shay pushed him aside without a glance. Tom noted that Ramsay had that man covered, so he focused on the old man. With one touch on a computer, someone who was an expert in arms could launch any number of attacks, and this man looked as if he’d been around for a while.