Earthrise (Her Instruments Book 1)

by Hogarth, M. C. A.

  “They’re fast,” Kis’eh’t said, eyes wide.

  “They’re good,” Irine said, then started laughing. “I can’t believe he used the pick!”

  “What pick?” Reese asked, irritated.

  “I put a pick in the dangle,” Irine said. “I didn’t think he’d have to use it so quickly! Now we’ll have to repair it.”

  “With another pick?” Kis’eh’t asked, distracted.

  “Of course!” Irine said. “At the rate he’s going, he’ll use more of them than I will!”

  “If he survives,” Bryer said suddenly.

  The conversation stopped.

  “You don’t think—he’s just unconscious—”

  “Surely a Fleet ship will be able to heal him,” Kis’eh’t said. “They have real doctors.”

  The Pad’s blue channel indicator flashed, then began to glow. A few moments later a sack appeared on the station.

  “They really don’t waste time, do they?” Irine said.

  “And neither should we,” Reese said. “We’ll meet in the mess hall in two hours.”

  In her own quarters, Reese shucked off the tabard and hopped into the water shower. She’d read countless stories where heroines recently handled by evil villains felt “soiled” and longed to wash themselves clean of the psychic dirt of their captivity, but Reese couldn’t identify any psychic dirt, only the real stuff. She felt grimy, but the shower put paid to that and dressing in her own clothing fixed the rest of her misgivings. The pirates were gone. Fleet was here. Sascha and Hirianthial had access to real doctors. Things were looking up. She spent some time hunting the ship for Allacazam and found him still in the clinic. A short nap with the Flitzbe and she was ready to present herself in the cargo bay to receive Captain NotAgain, who stepped through with Sascha behind him.

  “Captain Eddings,” NotAgain said, and though his voice remained confident and friendly, he held himself tensely. “I think you’ll find your crewman in much better shape.”

  Reese glanced past him at Sascha. “That true?”

  “Very,” Sascha said. “Hirianthial’s sleeping, too. Really sleeping, not just unconscious.”

  “I guess that’s a good sign.”

  “My C-med tells me it’s as good a sign as we can expect,” NotAgain said.

  Reese nodded. “If I can show you to the mess hall?”

  “Thank you,” he said, and as he fell into step behind her she was certain that her visitor was preoccupied. He made no attempt at idle conversation and his eyes seemed focused on something inside himself, not on where they were going.

  When the door to the mess hall opened, the aroma of cinnamon and apples flooded Reese on a wave of escaping air. She stopped in the door.

  “I see our supplies went to good use,” NotAgain said at her heels.

  “Don’t just stand there, Reese,” the Glaseah said. “Let Captain NotAgain in so I can get him a slice!” She stood in the kitchen, cleaning a couple of bowls and wearing an apron.

  “What about me?” Reese asked, walking into the room.

  “And me?” Sascha asked.

  “There’s enough for everyone,” Kis’eh’t said.

  The Tam-illee took a seat at the table and folded his hands on it. “Captain Eddings, will your crew be attending this meeting?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” Reese said, startled. “Should I send them away?”

  “It may be easiest,” NotAgain said.

  His words weren’t met with the chorus of groans and wheedling that hers would have been had she said something similar. Instead, before Reese could turn to them and tell them to leave, Sascha took himself out and Kis’eh’t brought the pie in silence. She served them each a slice and a cup of coffee, removed her apron and left it hanging on a chair on her way out.

  “They’re never that well-behaved,” Reese said, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”

  NotAgain laughed. “By being someone they don’t deal with daily who’s also wearing a uniform. I suspect.”

  “So much for learning that trick,” Reese said. She cupped her mug with her hands. “I imagine you’ve heard an earful about this already.”

  “We convinced some of the pirates to talk to us,” NotAgain. “And your man Sascha filled us in on some of your half. I’d like to hear the full story from you, though.”

  “All right,” Reese said and took a long breath. She started with the call from the Eldritch Queen that had sent her searching for Hirianthial and left nothing out from there, even the bits she didn’t understand clearly, like how Hirianthial had known the crystal people were sapient. NotAgain ate his pie and listened without interruption until she reached the end of her story; his questions sent her back-tracking across events, clarifying parts of it, bring forth details that seemed unimportant.

  At last he set his fork down and pushed the plate aside. “You’ve been through a lot in the past few months, Captain.”

  “I’m ready for things to calm down again,” Reese said. “I didn’t sign up to be pirate-bait.”

  He laughed. “I imagine not. You’re not angry they keep coming after you?”

  “Angry? Of course I’m angry!” Reese said. “They chased me around, wrecked my ship twice, if you count me having to sabotage myself to keep them from killing us, and they made me murder over a hundred aliens? Yes, I’m angry. I can’t wait for you to drag their sorry tails into a maximum security facility. Preferably a human-run one on a dirty airless asteroid.”

  “And if I said in order to do that I’d need your help?” NotAgain said, and sipped from his mug.

  “My help?” Reese stared at him. “You must be kidding me. You’re Fleet.”

  “Yes,” NotAgain said. “And your information and the pirates we just impounded have given us what we need to disband one of the largest pirate-slaver rings in the Alliance Crown. We’ve been hoping for the key to the organized activity in Sector Andeka for two years. Now we have it. But we can’t reach it without your help.”

  “Keep talking,” Reese said warily.

  “Fleet’s jurisdiction is interplanetary piracy,” NotAgain said. “In order to claim criminals on planets, we need either permission from the planetary authorities or evidence of space piracy.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” Reese said.

  “We suspect the man who wants these crystals, the one you’ve signed a contract with, is the link between the pirates and the Andeka slavers,” NotAgain continued. “But it’s only a suspicion unless he does something obvious.”

  “He signed a contract with me for dead people,” Reese pointed out.

  “But you haven’t delivered,” NotAgain said. “Until he either says something ridiculous in our hearing or transfers the full amount to you in acceptance for the contraband with both of you knowing full well what you’re delivering, we don’t have enough evidence to demand extradition.”

  “This is crazy!” Reese said. “The man is a drug dealer! Isn’t knowing that he wants to make drugs enough, that he paid for me to go get him raw materials?”

  “He could say the materials were intended for something else,” NotAgain said. “He could claim he didn’t know what they were. We need to catch him full in the act to take him away.” He looked at her. “We would like you to complete your mission, Captain. Take him the crystals. Deliver them in person.”

  “And try to get him to confess he’s a drug lord?” Reese asked. “Why would he do that?”

  “Why wouldn’t he do that to a possible partner?” NotAgain said. “As far as he knows, not only did you do the work he asked for, but you wiped out two of his ships when they got in your way. If you sound motivated by money, he may want to employ you permanently. Once he finds out that the pirate ships are gone you become intriguing.”

  “And a Fleet ship being in the vicinity isn’t enough reason for pirate ships to blow up?” Reese asked.

  NotAgain smiled. “Not if that Fleet ship is Dusted.”

  Reese toyed with the handle of
her mug. “This sounds very dangerous.”

  “It is,” NotAgain said. “But we’ll do everything we can to give you the back-up to get out safely.”

  The idea was patently ridiculous. Why would she want to go directly into the den of the bad guys? That was Fleet’s job, not hers. And to do it pretending to be a bad guy herself... she wasn’t sure she could pull off an acting job like that. She was definitely sure that if she succeeded she’d have to figure out how to wash off that famed “psychic dirt” she hadn’t noticed after merely being handled by the bad guys.

  “Captain Eddings,” NotAgain said. “These people are killers. They prey on people like you who are trying to make an honest living. They strip their cargoes from them, destroy their livelihoods. They kill them if caprice moves them. They sell drugs that destroy people’s minds and lives. And when they’re done with that, they kidnap people and sell them to the Chatcaavan empire, to be abused by aliens: men. Women. Children barely tall enough to reach your hip. Help us shut them down, please.”

  Reese covered her face, rubbed it, looked at her untouched dessert. “I want to help, but knowing how bad they are doesn’t make me feel any braver.”

  “It won’t be easy and it won’t be safe,” NotAgain said. “I won’t trick you into this by telling you we’ll be able to insure you come out in one piece. But we’ll do everything in our power, Captain Eddings. Everything.”

  She’d gotten them into this. She couldn’t just step out and let someone else fix it. And even if she tried to step out of it there was no guarantee they wouldn’t find her again. No one was going to be safe until Fleet cut the ring apart. She took a deep breath. “All right.”

  “Thank you,” NotAgain said.

  “Thank me when I walk out of this and after delivering what you need,” Reese said. “It’s not over until then.”

  “I’ll thank you twice,” NotAgain said, “because you’ll have earned it.” He grinned. “Don’t dwell on the worst, Captain. In a few weeks you’ll probably be on your way... and just think what a story you’ll have to tell your children!”

  “Yeah,” Reese said, grimacing. If she decided to have any. If she lived to have any.

  He stood. “I need to coordinate the plan. You don’t mind remaining here?”

  “It’s not like I have a choice,” Reese said. “My Well drive’s down.”

  “We’ll send some people over,” NotAgain said. “Unlike your previous boarders, we’ll actually fix the drive.”

  Reese managed a chuckle. “That would be greatly appreciated.”

  He nodded. “Expect some people in half a mark. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I look forward to it,” Reese said.

  The moment the Tam-illee stepped out of the room, everyone else rushed in. Kis’eh’t first, then the wriggling of the twins and finally Bryer, sauntering in last.

  “Tell us all about it!” Irine said, Allacazam in her arms.

  “I thought my quarters were locked,” Reese said as the Harat-Shar presented the Flitzbe to her.

  “Well, we had to find him!” Irine said. At Reese’s expression, she said, “If it makes you feel better, your quarters were the last place I checked.”

  Reese stroked the Flitzbe’s fur. “Well, get his lamp set up. We can all eat while we talk.”

  “Did the captain like the pie?” Kis’eh’t asked while the twins went for the plates.

  “He must have,” Reese said. “He ate it.”

  “But he didn’t say anything?” the Glaseah asked.

  “We had other things on our minds,” Reese said. She stuck a fork through the end of her slice and tried it. “I’ll say it for him. It’s really, really good.”

  Kis’eh’t brightened. “Remind me to tell you about the recipe.”

  Once the Flitzbe had been set in the light and everyone had something to eat, Reese said, “We have a task.”

  “Uh-oh,” Kis’eh’t said.

  “Isn’t this how we started on the whole pirate adventure?” Sascha asked. “With a “task”?”

  “I bet we’re not getting paid for this one either,” Irine said, grinning around her fork.

  Reese eyed them. “This is not funny.”

  “Yes it is,” Irine said.

  “Let her finish,” Kis’eh’t said. “I want to hear about ‘The Task.’ “

  Reese said, “We’re going to deliver the crystals to the nasty people so that Fleet can catch them in the act of doing something illegal in an extra-planetary way.”

  “That sounds dangerous,” Kis’eh’t said.

  “Last time we took jobs that sounded easy, they turned out to be dangerous,” Sascha said. “That means the dangerous one should turn out to be easy.”

  “I’m not sure you’re taking this seriously enough,” Reese began.

  “Give us the democracy speech!” Irine crowed.

  “The what?” Reese said, staring at her.

  “You know, the part when you tell us that you all hired us and if we don’t agree then we can just have our severance pay in something useless,” Irine said. “Like rooderberries.”

  “Or engine parts,” Sascha said.

  “Except this time it would be crystals,” Kis’eh’t said.

  “Bleh,” Irine said.

  “We’re even missing Hirianthial, just like the first time,” Sascha said. “For the same reason, even... he got on the wrong end of a bunch of pirate-slavers.”

  Reese fought the sensation that she’d lost control of her own meeting. “Can we stay on target here? We’re about to do something dangerous. I want to make sure everyone knows that.”

  “We’re trying to tell you we’re fine with it,” Sascha said.

  She looked at them all. “Without knowing more? After everything that’s happened?”

  “We’re still breathing,” Sascha said.

  “To do this is to serve the Eye,” Bryer said.

  Kis’eh’t nodded. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “That’s it?” Reese asked, incredulous. “You’re fine with it? Even though the pay is sporadic, we keep getting shot at and according to you I’m prickly as a potted cactus?”

  “A steady paycheck we could get anywhere,” Sascha said. “Finding steady adventure is much harder.”

  Kis’eh’t chortled.

  “All right,” Reese said, then laughed. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you people, but thanks for coming along.”

  “Just don’t forget Hirianthial,” Kis’eh’t said. “He’s one of us too.”

  “He might not want to stick around,” Reese said, trying not to sound as resentful as she felt.

  “We’ll see,” Sascha said. “Do you need us to do anything, boss?”

  “If you and Bryer could help the Fleet engineers with the Well Drive, that would be great,” Reese said. “They’re due in twenty minutes or so. I won’t know more until we’re up and running.”

  “Sounds good,” Sascha said. He stood and stretched. “Twenty minutes. I wonder what happened to that DNA-lock?”

  “It probably exploded all over the inside of the ship,” Reese said.

  Irine laughed. “Oh, Reese. Of course it didn’t. It wasn’t an exploding lock!”

  Reese stopped in the act of setting down her fork. “But it had the manufacturer’s seal!”

  “Of course it did,” Irine said. “It wouldn’t have been a convincing fake otherwise.” She reached for Sascha’s hand. “Let’s go have a look at it.”

  “Is it even a real DNA-lock?” Reese called after them. Irine’s only answer was her trailing laugh. Bryer followed the twins out, leaving Kis’eh’t to cover the pie and put away the dishes. The sound reminded Reese suddenly of her mother cleaning in the kitchen and a surge of melancholy overwhelmed her. It reacted poorly with her anxiety about the forthcoming Fleet mission, and for several minutes she listened to Kis’eh’t’s paw pads scraping on the floor and the sound of the tap running as the Glaseah washed off her hands.

  Reese thought she
’d be glad for a broken silence until Kis’eh’t spoke.

  “I don’t know why you’re mad at him, but you shouldn’t be.”

  “What?” Reese asked, startled out of her contemplation of the dregs of her coffee.

  “Hirianthial,” Kis’eh’t said. “He only irritated you before. Now when anyone mentions him you tighten up like drying twine.”

  “If you don’t know why I’m mad at him, how can you say I shouldn’t be?” Reese asked.

  “Because he means well,” Kis’eh’t said.

  Reese rolled her eyes. “And that excuses everything.”

  The Glaseah sighed and folded her apron, tucking it beneath the counter. “One day, Reese, you’ll have to stop being so closed to other people.”

  “I’m not closed to other people,” Reese said. “I’m just cautious. Besides, being closed is a courtesy. It keeps other people from having to know you in order to work with you.”

  Kis’eh’t said, “That makes so little sense I can’t even begin to address it.”

  “The point is that foisting your moods, opinions and ideas on other people is rude,” Reese said. “And having other people being able to pluck them out of mid-air is worse.”

  Kis’eh’t folded her arms. “So that’s it. You’re angry at him for reading your mind when he was so sick he could barely stand, much less do you the courtesy of not hearing the things you were shouting at the top of your mental lungs.”

  “Well he shouldn’t have!” Reese said.

  “He couldn’t help it,” Kis’eh’t said. “Any more than you could help throwing up on him when your esophagus was tearing apart.”

  “How do you know?” Reese asked.

  “Because I went through esper school like every Glaseah ever born,” Kis’eh’t said, exasperated. “Unlike ninety-nine percent of my race, I don’t have the faculties needed to become an esper, but I had plenty of theory classes. And I definitely know this: if you’re absolutely shredded, you can’t stop yourself from hearing other thoughts.”

  “How do they know?” Reese asked. “There’s no testing it. It might as well be magic.”