Bethany Anne nodded, still stinging from how close they’d come to losing her. “Clear your decks for travel.”
Jean turned from the sink, her face screwed up in regret. “I can’t travel. You know damn well that I’d be on Devon right now if it was even remotely possible.”
“Yeah, no.” Bethany Anne waved a hand to dismiss Jean’s arguments. “Call it a royal decree or whatever. I’m leaving for Devon, and I’m taking you and Lillian with me. Qui’nan can take care of things here, and I’m leaving ADAM behind.” She tilted her head. “Kind of.”
Jean’s eyes developed something of a shine. “Done.” She made a few sharp gestures over her desk, her brow furrowing as she delegated or postponed everything on her to-do list.
Bethany Anne grinned at Jean’s easy capitulation. “Thattagirl. We all need to remind ourselves what we’re fighting for every now and then. Especially when you just avoided shit creek by a stroke of the paddle.”
Jean closed her eyes briefly. “You’re right, we need some time with our loved ones. When I found out Nickie had been torn to pieces by an Ooken…” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I’ve never seen John cry, BA. Not once in all the time we’ve been married. It scared the shit out of me, and I don’t mind admitting it.”
“That’s exactly why I’m doing this,” Bethany Anne told Jean softly. She got to her feet and touched a hand to her shoulder. “Your family needs to be together right now. All of our family does. We’ll be swinging by High Tortuga to pick up Barnabas and Stephen on the way back.”
Jean raised an eyebrow. “What about Eve?”
Bethany Anne flashed a grin at Jean. “Eve should be on Devon already to take care of a project of mine.”
Jean tilted her head, distracted from her troubles for the moment. “Can’t wait to hear all about it. I should call Lillian and tell her we’re leaving.” She scooted her chair back and pulled out a box, which she dropped on the left-hand side of the desk and began packing.
Bethany Anne stared in shock when Jean pressed a panel on the inner wall and bundled the clothing hanging on the rod that popped out on top of the box. “You have a closet in your office?”
Jean nodded. “Yeah, and so do you. Didn’t you find it yet?”
Bethany Anne shook her head. “I feel like I’ve barely begun exploring the Baba Yaga yet. She’s huge! Our family deck is the size of a large town.”
Jean chuckled. “You have all the time you need. This almost feels like a spur-of-the-moment vacation,” she remarked, bending down to pull another box out from under her desk. “I can’t remember the last time I did something so spontaneous.”
Bethany Anne’s mouth quirked at Jean’s sudden shift in disposition. “Um, are you forgetting something?”
Jean fixed Bethany Anne with a look of confusion that her smile belied. “As if I’d let you leave without a gift.” She smirked and handed the decorated wooden box she’d just retrieved to Bethany Anne. “Welcome to your new armor.”
Bethany Anne turned the box over in her hands, then put it down on Jean’s desk to look for the opening mechanism. “This doesn’t look much like it can hold armor.”
Jean waved her hands at the box, still looking pleased with herself. “Open it. There’s another box to come; this is just the first part.”
Bethany Anne ran her thumb over the shallow indent on the short side of the box, hearing a faint snick as it accepted her DNA. She lifted the lid and picked up the garment, noting the faint metallic sheen where the malleable blue-black fabric caught the light. “New nano-fabric?”
She raised her eyebrow at Jean’s confirmation and shook the suit out to get a closer look. “It’s a good thing I don’t have body image issues. What features does it have?”
“There’s only so much I can do with polymers alone,” Jean admitted, shrugging. “But we have the material working to the specifications you set out in planning.”
Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Jean clarified as she resumed emptying her storage closet, “that it will adapt to whatever situation you’re in. You need a shipsuit? You’re wearing it already. You get shot, it deflects whatever they can throw at you. It has the same capability as your light armor without the nipple-ache of wearing plates. Oh, and you’re going to want these.” She backed out of the closet with a box about half Bethany Anne’s height and the width of her torso.
Bethany Anne’s eyes widened as Jean lifted a corner of the lid to give her a glimpse of a shining metal heel. She fixed her friend with a hopeful look. “Don’t fuck around, Jean. Really? You did it?”
Jean wiggled her eyebrows and nodded toward the bathroom. “Go put on the suit. You need to see this to believe it.”
Bethany Anne was tempted to just strip and dive into the suit where she stood. However, there was the question of the schedule. She wrinkled her nose. “Dammit. It’ll have to wait until we’re on the move. I have to check in with Bart and Giselle before I leave. I’ll meet you aboard the Baba Yaga as soon as you’re ready to go.”
Jean hoisted the large box with her belongings. “We won’t take too long.”
3
QT2, Shipyard, Queen’s Dock, QSD Baba Yaga, Top Deck
Bethany Anne made a beeline for her dressing room the second she and Jean exited the elevator in the family’s living quarters. She stepped off the thick carpet of the hall onto the cool printed tile floor of her anteroom.
“We have time while we wait for Lillian. I’ve gotta say how much I’m looking forward to this, as well,” Jean told Bethany Anne as she peered over the top of her overflowing box to navigate around the furniture. “The suit is keyed to your DNA, so this will be the first full test.”
Bethany Anne laid the boxes with her armor and boots on the table. “Test?” She shrugged. “I don’t care. I shouldn’t be this excited, but really? How long have I been wishing for armor with a heel?”
Jean snickered, and Bethany Anne removed the lid of the boot box with eager hands. “I might have known it would be all about the footwear with you.”
“I don’t know why anyone would expect differently.” Bethany Anne held up one of the boots to inspect it. “What’s the reason I get new boots, anyway? You’re usually the first to get the knives in when it comes to my collection.”
Jean rolled her eyes. “That’s only because I’m the one who has to design the storage for your ‘collection.’” She smiled at Bethany Anne’s reaction. “They’re stronger than the original pair. The boot is constructed from the nanocyte-infused polymer Qui’nan developed for ships’ hulls.”
Bethany Anne tipped the boot upside down. “You put banding around the sole? Nice. What about the heel? It’s not made from the polymer, clearly.”
“Actually, it is.” Jean winked. “The heel is... Well, you’ll see when you put them on and activate the suit.”
Bethany Anne dragged her gaze from the intricate stitching that matched her others exactly and flashed a million-watt grin at Jean. “I can’t tell the difference between these and the originals.”
Jean's eyes crinkled with pleasure. “We can replicate pretty much anything. The trick here was getting the blend of organic and inorganic materials to play nice. You’re going to either love or hate the integration option, but I sure as shit haven’t got six months to make you another pair with real dinosaur hide right now.”
“Michael and his gifts that keep on giving,” Bethany Anne murmured as she gathered up the suit and boots.
“Giving me work,” Jean grumped good-naturedly. Her eyes unfocused for a moment. “Hold up, Lillian is calling.”
Bethany Anne waved Jean away as she headed into the inner room to change. “Take it. I’ll be a few minutes.” She undressed quickly and removed the suit from its box.
She slipped her legs in and wriggled to get it up over her waist, then fed her arms into the long sleeves and waited for something to happen.
The suit remained inactive. It hung loosely around her body,
flapping open at the front with no apparent way to fasten it.
Bethany Anne touched the two sides together, thinking they might adhere that way. They fell apart again, and the aircon was high in here.
Dammit. She opened a mental link to Jean. How do I activate the suit?
Buttons, Jean instructed. On the collar, in the usual position. Press the one in the center to activate the EI suite, and tell ADAM not to blow it by getting clever before it’s fully integrated.
Bethany Anne made a face at the word “integrated.” She touched her fingers to her collar and felt for the button. Thanks. Tell Lillian I said hey.
ADAM spoke up just as she was about to start bitching to Jean that it wasn’t working. >>Um, your suit wants to connect with me.<<
Bethany Anne pressed her lips together, temper diverted by ADAM’s timely interruption. Okay, then connect. What control do you have?
>>Everything,<< he told her. >>There’s an EI suite, but no EI.<<
Okay? You can start by fastening the fucking thing. It’s cold enough to cut glass in here. Bethany Anne’s eyes widened when ADAM activated the fabric and the two sides of the suit came together and fused. What the…
The nano-fabric flowed, molding itself like living silk to her every curve until she was sheathed from throat to ankle in a veil of shimmering midnight.
Jean returned while Bethany Anne was still inspecting the seamless join along her breastbone. She leaned against the wall with her arms folded, appraising the fit of the nano-fabric. “Looking good! Get your boots on already so I can run you both through the features. ADAM, are you in?”
ADAM’s voice came from Bethany Anne’s collar. “I’m in. Hey, I can hear myself.”
Bethany Anne paused with the first boot pulled up halfway to glance at Jean.
“Left-hand button,” Jean supplied with a chuckle. “Don’t want you going batshit because you can’t get a minute’s silence.”
“Dammit,” ADAM bitched. “What’s an AI got to do to get control of himself around here?”
“You could start by not almost dying on the first opportunity you had to run free,” Bethany Anne stated. “Talk to me about getting control of yourself when you’re ready to take responsibility for your actions.”
“Give him a break,” Jean cut in on ADAM’s behalf. “He and Loralei saved lives that day.”
Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow, a smile appearing at the corner of her mouth. “I’m glad you feel that way. It’s going to get you through the next project I have for you.”
Jean grimaced. “Oh, yeah?”
Bethany Anne nodded, distracted by the tickle on her thighs as the nanocytes integrated the boots into her suit. “I want an AI body.”
Jean snorted. “Sure. What kind?”
“Something new,” Bethany Anne told her. She saw the transport Pod arrive at the Baba Yaga on her HUD. “Lillian is here, so it can wait for now.”
“She can make her way here just fine by herself,” Jean assured Bethany Anne, waving a finger over her suit. “Put the jacket on so we can get through the features before she gets here, then you can tell me why you want this AI body on the way to High Tortuga.”
Federation Space, Red Rock—aka “Fed Rock,” The Federal House of Arbitration
Lance pressed his hands into the small of his back as he left the council chambers, wondering how in the hell his body could feel its actual age with all the junk keeping it like a preserved ham.
He decided it had more to do with the hours he spent sitting in the arbiter’s chair than anything else.
There was a deluge of membership applications coming in as a result of displacement caused by the Ooken, and as usual, it was an effort to remain in control of trade and commerce in the face of self-interest.
While it was all very well to hold their people to the law, it never ceased to amaze Lance how easily some of the council members justified their efforts to gain the upper hand for their constituencies.
He stretched his aching muscles, thinking that perhaps he should have been a little less prideful about Patricia’s suggestion of a support cushion, seeing as how the asteroid the House was built into was scheduled to be on the move for months before returning to the hinterlands of Yollin space.
Lance would much rather have been headed to Devon for the family gathering with his wife and son. However, his place was here until his daughter decreed otherwise. Nothing said Lance had to like it.
“General Reynolds,” a gruff voice called from the chamber entrance. “A moment, if you have it.”
Lance turned, surprised to hear his name fall so congenially from the Leath trade secretary’s tongue. “Secretary Harkkat. Can I help you with something?”
The secretary indicated that Lance should continue walking with an outstretched hand. “I won’t keep you. I’m looking for any knowledge you have on the outer quadrants.”
Lance paused in the shadow of the fountain, looking up at the holoprojected depiction of the founding Federation council members supporting a plinth holding the many member species. “Where in the outer quadrants do you mean, specifically? That’s a lot of uncharted space you’re talking about.”
Harkkat’s jovial demeanor dropped. “That’s what I wanted to speak about—where to begin exploration. Our economy has taken a significant upturn, as tax records for the quarter show. Between Federation growth, the military upgrades we’ve been doing, and our mysterious-yet-wealthy neighbor, we can’t keep up with production at this level if we don’t look outward.”
Lance nodded along, keeping a straight face. He knew all about the wealth the Leath had amassed recently, including that which the Leath representatives had decided not to declare at this time. “What does this have to do with the outer quadrants?”
The secretary’s lips split in a thin grin, the one that always made Lance slip his hands into his pockets lest they act without his volition to wipe the supercilious smile off the Harkkat’s smarmy face. “Resources, of course, General. We can’t maintain growth without them, so say the representatives.”
Lance dropped the politician’s mask, allowing his distaste to show. He jabbed a finger at the Secretary’s chest. “Listen to me, Harkkat. Nothing good happens to anyone who goes poking around outside Federation jurisdiction. For all the shit you give me in there, I wouldn’t see your people take losses for the sake of profit. Am I making myself clear?”
Harkkat sneered and brushed Lance’s hand away. “Clear as crystal. It’s not going to change the representatives’ minds. Can you help me or not?”
Lance lifted his hands, returning Harkkat’s smile with just a dash of added sympathy on top. “Not, I’m afraid. Stay away from the outer quadrants or be prepared to pay the price.”
Harkkat bristled. “I see no cause for threats!” he declared before turning on his heel and stalking back to the chamber.
Lance felt the beginning of a nasty headache. He sent a message to Barnabas as he walked away, fuming that Harkkat’s government was still too self-oriented to figure out that playing by the rules was the only thing protecting them from the big bad out there.
The Seven had no use for the technology they had given to the Leath in the first place. The Ooken wouldn’t even pause between bites as they destroyed them entirely.
That wasn’t the thing that pissed Lance off the most about the exchange. As though Bethany Anne didn’t have enough to deal with, now he had no choice but to hand off babysitting those stubborn assholes to her to make sure they didn’t become Ooken snacks.
It was enough to make him reconsider attending the family get-together on Devon.
Lance scowled all the way to his accommodations, a suite of rooms at the top of the rock that looked out onto open space. The view upon entering was enough to calm his heated temper. He took a cigar from the humidor in the cabinet, running his fingers along the bookshelf above until he got to Old Faithful.
He eased out the love-worn paperback hidden between Treatises on Successful Interspecies Comm
unication and The Modern Yollin: A Short Discourse on the Social Impact of Yoll’s Revolution and settled into his chair to read about a time when the only thing a man needed to do right was to ride into town and shoot the asshole making life hard for everyone else.
4
Devon, The Interdiction, QSD Baba Yaga
Alexis turned her head to brush the other side of her black hair as she looked at herself in the mirror. She considered the large, dark eyes that marked her as Bethany Anne’s child and the faint, questioning line between her eyebrows she’d inherited from Michael.
Those were only the outward comparisons.
How do you have something like a normal childhood when you’re the son and daughter of the most powerful people the universe has ever seen? Alexis had pondered the question often. Life for her and Gabriel had never been “normal.”
Not by anybody’s standards.
Their story was romantic, she thought. Poetic. Born on the cusp of war to royalty in exile, and enhanced by powerful alien technology, even their growth had followed an alternative path set out by their parents as a way to prepare the twins for a life of navigating the intergalactic stage.
Maybe it wasn’t that romantic. It made any budding ideas of dating unthinkable, that was for sure.
Alexis snickered, imagining introducing some poor boy to her father and uncles.
She chose an amethyst barrette and pinned her hair up on one side, then got to her feet to collect her shoes. She paused when Gabriel clattered into their shared dressing room.
Gabriel dashed to his side of the room and dived into his closet without acknowledging Alexis. He started pulling clothing from the rods, tossing the items haphazardly behind him.
Alexis raised an eyebrow at her brother’s uncharacteristic output of frantic energy. “What’s gotten your pants jammed up your butt?” she asked, forgetting her shoes for the moment.
“Diplomatic gala.” He grunted. “Just found out.”
Alexis picked up each item of clothing as Gabriel discarded it. “You spend too much time with Uncle John. You’re forgetting how to talk. I thought everyone knew about the gala? Mom’s been arranging it since she heard there was going to be a party for Aunt Nickie.”
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