by Finn Gray
Long ago she’d been taught not to look directly at individual faces in the crowd when speaking in public. Instead, the speaker should choose various places in the crowd and look just above the heads of the listeners, thus creating the illusion of eye contact. But this was a small assemblage and she soon found her line of sight drifting across the rows of recruits. Up front, one young woman in particular drew her attention.
The recruit had the same brown eyes and light brown skin as Lina and Val. It was what she saw in those eyes that caused Lina to stumble over her words. The recruit glared at her with undisguised loathing. Lina didn’t think she’d ever experienced such raw disdain, hatred even. She regained her composure instantly, her verbal lapse no more than a tiny slip of the tongue, and wrapped up her speech, careful not to look directly at any of the other recruits.
The officers began a polite round of applause, and were immediately joined by the recruits. Val stepped up to Lina’s side, gave a quick “thank you,” a perfunctory wave, flashed a painted-on smile, then turned and hurried away.
Lina hung back to exchange pleasantries with the officers before Carlos finally escorted her off the platform.
“You and your sister are scheduled to dine with the officers. Shall we go ahead?” he asked. “I thought you might like to freshen up a bit. It’s humid here.”
“Is that your way of telling me I’m looking bedraggled?”
“Never, Highness.”
Just then, Lina spotted something strange. Marion, Val’s security agent was standing alone, with Val nowhere to be seen. Lina hurried over to her, Carlos at her side.
“Marion, where is my sister? Why aren’t you protecting her?” she demanded.
Unlike Lina, Val changed security guards like other people changed socks. Marion had only been on the job a few months and had not grown accustomed to the games Val played. She coughed delicately into her hand before replying.
“With respect, Highness, I am guarding her. She’s in there.” The woman inclined her head toward a small, block building.
“What’s in there?”
“Looked like a small arms locker, Highness.”
Lina crossed her arms. “I assume she’s not alone?”
Marion shook her head.
“So my sister, the imperial princess, is in there alone with a stranger and a load of weaponry?”
Marion’s fair face turned ashen. “It’s not a stranger. She instructed me not to tell you, but it’s that fleet officer she’s been meeting up with. Simon.” She swallowed hard and mopped her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. “Shall I get her out of there?”
“No, just wait here.”
Lina moved to the door of the building where Simon and Val had sequestered themselves. She raised her fist to knock, but then stopped and pressed her ear to the door. She wasn’t quite sure why she was bothering. More than likely, she’d hear her sister doing what she always did, and doing it loudly. But instead of moans of passion, she heard muffled conversation.
“I’m not sure I can do it,” Val was saying.
“I know it will be difficult,” Simon replied, “but it’s for me. You do love me, don’t you?”
“You know I do.”
“And you always said you’ll do anything for me.”
“But this is no small thing you’re asking of me,” Val said.
“If we’re going to have a future together, the kind we both want, this has to be done.”
A few more words, too soft to hear, and then Val let out a low moan. Time to interrupt before things got hot and heavy.
Lina rapped on the door. “Val! We’ve got dinner with the officers. Come on.”
Moments later, Val slipped through the door and pushed it closed behind her.
“What? Is Simon not joining us?” Lina asked.
Val blanched. “Lina, please. Don’t tell Father.”
“Do I ever?”
Val looked like she wanted to say something. Instead, she gave a quick shake of her head and moved to join Marion. The two turned and walked away.
Lina watched as her sister disappeared into the admin building. Looking back over her shoulder, she espied Simon leaving his hiding place and hurrying away in the opposite direction.
“Everything all right, Highness?” Carlos asked.
“I’m not sure. Do me a favor and follow Simon. Let me know where he goes and what he does.”
“That’s not really my job.”
“Your job is to keep me safe, and I have a feeling Simon is a danger to me. Please. I’ll be fine among the officers, and Marion will be there.”
Reluctance flashed across Carlos’ face, but he gave a quick nod and hurried away.
I probably shouldn’t hope you find anything, Lina thought, but then again, I sort of hope you do.
Chapter 11
Battlecruiser Dragonfly
Thetis
Hunter came to attention as Colonel Jordan entered the room. He saluted, trying to keep the surprise from his face. He hadn’t planned on meeting with any of his superiors just yet. Not until he’d had time to work out the problem.
The XO returned the salute. “At ease.” She sat down at the table where, moments before, Hunter had been poring over the deck chief’s report.
“This is a surprise, Colonel.” Hunter took the seat opposite her. He hated this chair. It was hard, a bit too narrow, and hurt his back. Give him the cockpit of a Cobra any day.
Jordan tilted her head in mock-surprise. “Is it?”
It wasn’t in Hunter’s nature to fall all over himself with half-assed explanations for his behavior. Besides, there was always a chance the XO was here for some reason other than what he suspected.
“It is,” he said simply.
“Do you think I’m an idiot, Captain?”
“No, sir. Except for the time you raised the bet when you were holding one knight of cups.”
Jordan didn’t return his easy smile. She locked eyes with him, the corners of his mouth turning down beneath the heat of her glare.
“Contrary to popular opinion, I do read my reports. Including those from the deck chief.”
Hunter nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. It was exactly what he’d feared. “So you’re aware of the problems with some of our Cobras.”
“Yes, but the problem that concerns me at the moment is I have a CAG who is hiding things from me.”
“With respect, sir, no one is hiding anything from you. The issue was in Chief Logan’s report. He and I are working on the problem. I don’t...”
Jordan slammed her fist down on the table. “Dammit, Hunter! Don’t piss up my leg and tell me it’s raining.” She stood and leaned in toward him, palms on the table. “We’ve got a repeating pattern of problems with our Cobras, always the ones used by the fledglings. No other birds have been impacted. That’s not the sort of thing you leave for the chief’s report and omit from your own.”
Hunter held up a hand, palm out. “Mechanical issues are the chief’s domain. I agree there might be a pattern. Might be,” he repeated for emphasis. “But right now there is nothing beyond the mechanical issues to report.”
“Then you should have a conversation with me. Keep me informed.” Her posture eased and she let out a sigh. “For the gods’ sakes, we’re on the same side.”
Hunter nodded slowly. “I apologize. I just wanted to make sure there really was something to report, and maybe get a handle on it first.”
“You know what’s going on out there.” Jordan made a sweeping motion intended to take in the entire fleet, maybe even the whole Aurora system.
“The Memnons. You really think there could be a connection between them and a few mechanical failures?”
“I think it would be stupid not to give serious consideration to the possibility.” Closing her eyes, Jordan leaned her head back and tilted it side to side, cracking her neck. “That’s better.” She looked once again at Hunter. “Tell me what you know and what, if anything, you suspect.”
&n
bsp; Hunter gave his XO a rundown of the situation. A pattern of odd malfunctions to the Cobra fighters flown by the fledgling trainees, a different problem every time. No fatalities, but one near-miss in which a trainee came in hard due to a problem with the steering on her bird.
“Do you think it’s one of the fledglings doing it?” Jordan asked.
Hunter flipped his hand in a noncommittal gesture.
“Could be, but each fledgie has been victimized at least once.”
“That doesn’t mean one of them isn’t responsible. As long as the culprit was careful to sabotage his ship in a way that wouldn’t get him killed. Or her,” Jordan added.
“But there’s a matter of know-how. Two of the three are civilian pilots, so it’s not out of the question that one of them might be up to the challenge, but a Cobra isn’t the same as a cargo ship.”
“What about our imperial trainee?”
Hunter considered the question. “According to our records, he came to us a blank slate. There’s nothing in his background that would suggest he knows anything about the inner workings of a ship. Then again, he’s smarter than his test scores indicated, and a quick study, so we can’t dismiss the possibility.” Hunter relaxed as he spoke, finding himself relieved to share the burden with a superior officer. “His branch of the imperial family has long been at odds with the Navarres. With the civil unrest caused by the Memnons, perhaps his family is looking for any opportunity to stir up trouble?”
Unrest among the civilian populations of Hyperion and Thetis was on the rise. Protests and counter-protests. Suspected Memnons had been the victims of assaults and property damage. The reaction of the populace, at least the majority, had sent ripples through the political realm. While most attempted to straddle the fence, emphasizing unity while affirming law and order, others had taken a hard line, supporting a Memnon registry and neighbor turning in neighbor. The military hadn’t been impacted to the same degree, but there was suspicion in the air. No doubt, any Memnons in the fleet would be keeping their heads down.
Jordan rested her chin in her hand and gazed at the wall. “I hate to even consider that. The Navarres have provided stability for more than a hundred cycles. If their rule was overturned, it could be a disaster. But, sabotaging fledgling training on one of the oldest ships in the fleet? That wouldn’t cause a ripple in the overall scheme of things.”
Hunter thought about Adam Talia, the young recruit in question. He had a relaxed, easygoing manner. So easygoing that Sabre had nicknamed him “Recess” because she said the man seemed to think he was always on the playground. Despite the Lieutenant’s reservations, Hunter had found the fledgling to be as compliant and hardworking as his fellow trainees. But still, how much did Hunter really know about the man?
“I assume the chief is looking into his own crew?” Jordan asked.
“He is. Nothing so far.”
“How do the two of you plan to proceed?”
Hunter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Delving into everyone’s backgrounds. Checking security vids. Keeping our eyes open and our ears to the ground. I plan to take an active hand in the fledglings’ training. See if I can spot anything suspicious.”
“No.” Jordan shook her head. “Don’t do that.”
“Sir?” Hunter frowned at his XO.
“A significant deviation from the norm like that would put the culprit on alert. We want to catch the saboteur, not warn him away.”
Hunter shifted in his seat, took a breath and let it out in a rush. “Sir, if my presence prevents further incidents, the problem is solved. Our fledglings will be safe.”
Jordan shook her head. “They’ll select another target. While you’re babysitting the fledgies, the perpetrator might wreak havoc elsewhere.” She bit her lip. “I know you don’t like it, but the best way to catch a fox is to set a trap in the henhouse.”
“I just don’t like putting the recruits’ lives in danger.”
“They assumed the risk when they enlisted in the fleet.” Jordan stood, her congenial manner replace with her usual stern air of command. “Keep an eye on the fledglings and anyone else who has access to the Cobras, but do it surreptitiously. Whatever you do, don’t let them know they’re being watched.”
“Yes, Sir.” Hunter rose from his chair. “I apologize for not keeping you apprised of the situation.”
Jordan made a single nod. “It’s forgotten.”
“Should I make a similar report to the commander?” he asked.
Jordan considered the question for a few seconds.
“Let’s stick to the chain of command. You report to me and I’ll report to Graves. Are we clear?”
“We are.” Hunter watched as Jordan left the room and closed the door behind her. He understood his orders, but “clear” didn’t describe anything else about this situation. The whole system was going to the hells.
Chapter 12
Camp Maddux
Hyperion
Rory lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling. The low breathing of the recruits around him as they drifted off to sleep did nothing to calm his nerves. He couldn’t say what, exactly, it was that troubled him, but the speech by the imperial princess had left him unsettled.
“Can’t sleep either?” Cassidy whispered from the next bunk.
“No.” He didn’t elaborate. Most nights, he and Cassidy talked until they drifted off to sleep, but tonight he wasn’t in the mood. Apparently, his mood was of no concern to her, because, a few seconds later, he felt the framework tremble as she climbed up to join him.
“Scoot over,” she whispered, her breath warm on his ear. Groaning, he scooted to the edge of the mattress and rolled over onto his side, facing her. She took a similar position on the other side. She was close enough that he caught a whiff of soap and the antiseptic smell of her mouthwash.
Jones, a big recruit from Norwind, poked his head up over the edge of the bed. He was a burly, moon-faced fellow with pale skin, light blue eyes, and an easy smile. “If you two are going to hook up, can you make it fast? I’m exhausted and this rack squeaks like the hells.”
“We’re just talking,” Rory said. It wasn’t unusual for recruits to spend a little time together beneath the blankets from time to time, but it was almost impossible to be quiet about it.
“Plowboy couldn’t handle me anyway,” Cassidy said. “No virgin can.”
Rory didn’t bother to correct that statement. It was a common insult in the barracks.
“I don’t believe it,” Jones said. “Guarantee you there’s at least a couple of baby sheep with his eyes wandering around the farm.”
“I heard your mom was a polar bear,” Rory said.
“Jones doesn’t know what she is,” Cassidy said. “Women up north are covered in hair so they can survive the winters.”
Jones chuckled. “Just don’t wake me up, okay?”
“You got it, buddy.” Cassidy made a face as Jones settled back into bed.
“What’s on your mind?” Rory asked.
“That speech. I can’t believe they made us stand and listen to those do-nothing bitches. Who are they to lecture us?”
“Well, we really only had to listen to one of them. The other barely said two words.” All his life he’d heard about the so-called Empire Twins, had seen vids of them. They hadn’t been what he’d expected. Both were beautiful, but the one who’d given the speech, Catalina, had impressed him, and he told Cassidy so.
“What’s so impressive? She stands up there and reads a speech one of her grandfather’s people wrote for her, and it blows your farmboy mind?” She waved a dismissive hand at him.
“She wasn’t reading,” he said. “I was standing up close and she didn’t have any notes.”
“So she memorized it.”
“I don’t think so.” Rory wasn’t sure why he was defending the princess. Perhaps it was because, for the first time in his life, he truly appreciated that he was part of one Auroran people. There was a girl, a member of the monarchy
, one who lived on the other side of the world, talking about things that actually mattered to him.
“I think somebody’s in love,” Cassidy said. “You like the type? Long, black hair, big brown eyes. You’re probably going to be lying alone in the dark, thinking about her luscious caramel skin, aren’t you?” She reached out and ran a finger across his bicep. “You want me to leave so you can tug one off, dreaming of your raven-haired princess?”
Grinning, Rory looked his friend up and down. “You know, before your head was shaved, you looked a lot like those girls. Are you related?”
“I grew up in Vatome, so we’re cut from the same stock, but not in any way that matters.” Cassidy let out a huff of breath, all signs of levity gone. “You grew up on a farm. Didn’t it piss you off, having to stand there and listen to a lecture from a rich, spoiled bitch?”
“Not really. I mean, it was a speech. They’re all boring, aren’t they?” He had to admit he was a bit taken aback by the intensity of Cassidy’s reaction to the royals’ appearance. It wasn’t that big of a deal, was it?
“You should see the imperial compound,” Cassidy said, lowering her voice. “Huge and opulent. They could probably afford to feed the entire city with the money spent maintaining it. They sit up on a hill looking down on the rest of us. There’s a big wall around it to separate them from the dirty commoners.”
“It has to be walled off for their own protection, doesn’t it? I mean, it’s the imperial family.”
“Sure, take their side. You think either one of the Empire Twins would ever lift a finger to help you? If they saw you lying in a ditch they’d tell their chauffeur to keep on driving. The ruling classes are the only ones who are real to them. The rest of us are just numbers. We’re population statistics, troop strengths, mouths to feed. We’re tiny, interchangeable bits of nothing.”