No. “Yes.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“What do you know of my unit?” Aerie snapped angrily, wondering if he was able to read her mind.
“I could take you back,” Exton agreed. “But I could just as easily kill you and save myself the trouble. Or I could just kill myself, and save the URS the trouble.”
“That was my next recommendation,” Aerie replied in a biting tone.
“One thing you should know,” he told her, “is that I am not prone to take counsel.”
“And I am not prone to play the part of the invalid.”
“The medics have finished checking your blood and replenishing your fluids,” Exton said, glancing down at her chart. “Decontamination is complete, your vitals look good. And they even noted you seem to have a pleasant disposition.” He glanced up at her with a roguish grin on his face. “I’ll have to correct that, won’t I?”
She only glared at him in reply. What was it about him, Aerie wondered, that made him so insufferable?
It should have been easy to hate him, but somehow she didn’t—and she hated that she didn’t. It made her plans to collect information for the URS more difficult.
Maybe that’s his game, Aerie thought. Befriend, and then betray.
“So then let’s talk about what to do with you,” Exton offered, interrupting her thoughts.
“I’m surprised you haven’t decided already.” Aerie frowned. “Besides, I thought you didn’t take counsel.”
The smallest smile appeared on his face. “I’m not prone to take it, but I will occasionally. Making decisions about refugees and rebels is easy, but you’re not really one or the other, are you?” He said it softly, purposely.
What kind of game is he playing? “No,” Aerie said. “I’m not either of those.”
“There are many other options I could select for you,” he said, goading her. “But I find them lacking in one way or another. You’re not a child, though hardly a woman. You’re not an assassin, as much as you’d like to think you are.”
“I’d love the chance to change your mind on that one,” Aerie said, angry she was more upset by his comment on her maturity than her combat skills.
“I’m afraid we can’t do that. But as for the other concern, I think we’ll just have to wait and see who you are.”
“I’m your enemy,” Aerie told him. “There. It’s that simple. Now, I’d appreciate it if you would stop with the pleasantries and start torturing me. I’ll be much happier when I am dead.”
“I can understand your thoughts on the matter,” he said, obviously smothering a laugh, “but I’d love for you to give me the chance to change your mind.”
Frustration hit her again. Was he teasing her? Or worse—was he telling the truth? “You won’t make me change my mind,” Aerie insisted. “I’m your enemy.”
“I’m going to call your bluff.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Here’s what I think,” Exton said. “I think you’ve had doubts about the URS before.”
“Of all the presumptuous … that’s not true at all! You’re—” Aerie nearly choked. Her fists clenched, wanting nothing more than to fight back.
“I know you don’t like hearing your loyalty questioned, but we have enough serum for your venom. I know my medics are trained better than most in the URS. They’re not even trained to let you die if they think it’s useless to try to save you.”
Aerie winced.
He continued, “I don’t care for ‘captive’ or ‘prisoner,’ because as I’ve told you, the Perdition does not have either.”
“I would disagree,” Aerie interrupted. “This whole ship is a prison.”
“Even hell does not have captives, Aerie,” he told her, shocking her as he said her name. “Everyone in hell chooses to go there.”
Her brow creased. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“I’m sure the Ecclesia will get around to telling you all about it while you’re here,” Exton told her. “But the Perdition was not designed to be a prison, let alone hold prisoners of war. It was, ironically, designed to be a paradise of sorts.”
“A paradise?” Aerie scoffed. “What kind of paradise houses nuclear weapons and threatens to use them on innocent people?”
“Would it make you feel better if I told you there were no warheads on the ship?”
“I would not believe you,” Aerie said, drawing herself up proudly. “You’re a known liar.”
“Ah, yes,” Exton replied sarcastically. “The great, inexhaustible knowledge of the URS Education Program. How could I forget?”
Aerie bristled. “I’d rather you not talk to me, if you’re just going to make fun of me.”
“That’s the second time you’ve brought that up.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Do you have a problem with ridicule?”
“No,” Aerie lied, her face turning a bright shade of red.
“I told you before,” Exton said, “it’s better to just tell the truth.” He looked at her, his gaze studying her face carefully. “You’ll give yourself away more than you think.”
Aerie said nothing, but her fingers curled into fists.
“Let me guess. You were ridiculed by your beloved family—I mean, unit, of course.”
She tightened her lips. He didn’t need to know anything.
Seeing her reaction, he nodded. “Gotta admire the URS units. They tend to eat their young as though they needed fresh blood to survive. I’m glad I didn’t grow up in one.”
“How would you know anything about units if you’ve never grown up in one?” Aerie asked, anger still simmering inside of her.
“Because I grew up in a family,” Exton told her. “We didn’t follow the ‘unit’ rule. The State never had real authority over my family’s household, and I had not only my family, but my community to protect me from any direct autonomy from them.” He glanced out the windows above them as he leaned back in his chair. “For which I can only be grateful.”
A moment passed, and Aerie couldn’t squash her curiosity. What would it have been like, she wondered, to live in a place that the State did not have the final say in all matters? “I thought you said you lived near New Hope,” Aerie remarked.
“I did,” he agreed. “I got through their education program early, and I went on to university.”
“For what degree?”
“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t finish.” He shifted Moona onto her lap before leaning over her, drawing closer to her.
“Were you going to be a doctor?” Aerie felt her breathing stop as she realized he was reaching for her. He ran his fingers over the bruised bump on her head where she’d been bleeding.
“No. An engineer.” He touched her bump tentatively, but his kindness was unmistakable. “But I was pretty clumsy as a kid, so I know how to tend to things like this. My mom thought it was a good idea to learn.”
It was strange to think of Exton as having a mother. Especially one who sounded a lot like her own.
“Stop it,” Aerie muttered softly, uncomfortable with his closeness.
“It looks much better,” he told her. “Only a little swelling now. The cut is scabbing over nicely, too.”
She suddenly felt very conscious of her appearance. “Does it look bad?” Aerie reached her hand up to her bruise.
Exton’s fingers brushed gently against her cheek, tenderly tucking her hair behind her ear. She felt her mouth go dry as she met his gaze.
“No,” Exton told her. “No, it doesn’t look bad at all.”
He paused, and Aerie felt her face betray her once more as she blushed a deeper shade of red.
He cleared his throat and backed away. “It should be gone soon, thanks to the medicine we have available on board. You’ll never know it was there in a day or two.”
Aerie nodded, silent as she rubbed Moona’s fur.
She watched him as he sat back down. He wasn’t what she expected. He was young rather than ol
d, an engineer rather than a pirate, solid instead of ghost, lenient instead of unforgiving, tender instead of harsh, and, she admitted uncomfortably, attractive rather than repulsive.
“I’ve heard the stories,” she said slowly, “that Captain Chainsword was betrayed by those that were closest to him. Is that what happened to you?”
“It’s certainly an understatement.”
At least he confirmed it. That might be something to help the URS fight against him. Aerie felt her stomach twist at the thought.
“Let’s not talk about that. Tell me about you.”
“Huh?” She glanced back up at him with wide eyes.
“Humor me.” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s the middle of the night shift, and I have some time.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Are you sure? Can’t be that interesting here all by yourself.”
She bit her lip; he had a point. It was boring.
“How about we make a deal?” Exton asked. “I’ll tell you about me, if you tell me about you.” He held out his hand, as he had before.
He has a point. And this way, I can learn more for the General. Aerie blushed, recalling it was significant no one learned whose daughter she was; it was dangerous, for her and her unit and her nation.
But surely it would be easy enough to keep that fact concealed?
She took his hand once more. “Alright,” she said.
“I thought that might convince you.” Exton’s eyes gleamed. “So, tell me. You’re clearly a new graduate. Which job were you assigned to? Or did I pick you up before you had your PAR?”
Aerie shook her head. “I was … supposed to work in the Communications Sector,” she said, feeling like she was digging up a past no longer part of her life.
“You would have hated it.”
Aerie was surprised when she laughed. “Yes,” she agreed a moment later. “I was hoping to join the Military Academy, but I didn’t impress the board during my PAR.” She turned away as she recalled her father’s rebuke. Tears might have come if she hadn’t spent the last two days deciding she had bigger problems to worry about.
Almost as if he could read her mind, he said, “I’ll bet they weren’t happy with you going outside, either.”
She shrugged and hugged Moona closer to her.
“So,” he said, “why did you want to go to the military? It wasn’t just so you could go to the Academy Ball, was it?”
“No!” Aerie insisted, even as a tiny part of her involuntarily agreed. When he arched an eyebrow at her, she sighed. “Okay, that would have been nice, but that wasn’t my primary reason for wanting to join the military.”
“It’s good you didn’t get in. You would have hated that, too.”
“I would not have,” Aerie objected. “You don’t know me, remember?”
“I know enough about you to know you would have hated the military.” Exton nodded to the cat in her lap. “For a girl who likes her kittens and tends to a tree, you would have hated burning down homes and burying dead people.”
Aerie blanched. “That’s not what the military in the URS does,” she argued.
“Not all of them do it,” Exton agreed. “But all of them are trained to do it, and worse things besides.”
He has to be lying about that, Aerie thought. “Most of my friends wanted to be pilots or work in medicine,” she said, thinking of Brock and Serena, as well as her brothers.
“It doesn’t matter which branch or sector you’re in, Aerie,” he replied. “Killing is still a required skillset, and one you do when you’re ordered, no questions asked, and no hesitations allowed.”
Aerie thought of her own presentation to the board, and their concerns with how she didn’t follow orders. Was that why they rejected me? “Is that why you defected? You didn’t follow orders?”
Moments passed in silence. Exton reached over and stroked Moona once more. As Aerie felt his hand brush against hers, she could not seem to breathe properly.
Finally, he spoke. “No. If anything, I followed them too well before I left,” he told her. His eyes met hers; Aerie could see flecks of silver in his blue eyes, twinkling at her like little stars. He smiled, the small movement drawing her attention uncomfortably to his mouth. “Why did you want to join the military, when it doesn’t seem like a good fit for you?”
“I wanted to go in because of my family. They’ve always called me weak and helpless, and I wanted nothing more than to prove them wrong.”
He said nothing, so she continued, suddenly awkward at the thought of silence. “They told me I was likely destined to wind up as a breeder, or as a caretaker or cohabiter, pursuing a career in marriage.” Which, she recalled, thinking of Brock, she wasn’t even sure she would have attracted any interest.
“When the Board of Generals rejected my application to the military, I was upset. So I went up to the tree, and that’s why I was there when you arrived,” she finished, more than a little annoyed with herself for giving him the information he originally wanted.
“I’m surprised your family would call you weak,” Exton told her. He put a hand on his chest. “You managed to bruise two of my ribs.”
“Really?” Aerie couldn’t hold back her grin. “Serves you right for killing my tree.”
He gave her a mercurial smile. “What made the board reject your application to the military?”
“They told me I was too unreliable.” Aerie frowned. “Not that you need to know or anything.” But it felt good to tell someone what had happened, and someone besides Moona. Someone who could actually respond.
“Let me guess. You don’t follow directions?”
Aerie nodded. “That, and they didn’t like my final presentation.”
“I’ll have to hear it sometime, then,” Exton said. “Anything the URS doesn’t like is likely borderline seditious or treasonous, and either would greatly amuse me.”
“Is that why you’ve come to see me?” Aerie asked, instantly riled. “To amuse yourself?”
“It’s not the primary reason,” he drawled. “I know there’s information that we need to know while you’re here—such as who you are, what kind of trouble you’re going to give us, that sort of information. But … there are other reasons, too.”
Other reasons he wasn’t going to tell her. Aerie didn’t know if the General would even figure out what had happened to her at all. Getting picked up by the ghost of Captain Chainsword was not a likely possibility on anyone’s list, including hers. Hadn’t she spent the last couple of days convincing herself that was what actually happened?
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much about any of that,” she told him bluntly. “If it’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I’m not that important in the URS.”
Exton backed away from her, running his hand through his hair. “I know enough to know you could be dangerous.”
“Me?” Aerie gaped at him. “I thought you said I was not skilled enough.”
“As an assassin,” he corrected. “But there is something about you … something that’s dangerous.”
“What will you do with me then?” she asked. She watched as he put the screen down and pushed the chair back. He was leaving her, she realized, surprised to despair at the thought. Before she could stop herself, her hand reached out and grabbed his arm. “Hey! You can’t leave. You didn’t tell me anything about who you are.”
She felt him still under her touch.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I think we’ll get to it. We have time.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you’ll accept my offer,” Exton replied, “I will extend you an opportunity to join us on the Perdition as a temporary guest. At the moment, we are not planning to make any runs down to Earth. But after the harvest is over, we can reassess your position and consider our options.”
Harvest? Aerie frowned.
She would have to return to that issue once her fate was decided; she was too concerned with a
nother word he’d spoken.
“A guest?” Aerie repeated. “But I’m from the URS. I might sabotage your ship or spy on you.” Her cheeks flushed. “Or I might cause trouble, you know, accidentally.”
“Don’t worry,” Exton assured her. “I’ll make sure you have the proper supervision and you’re kept busy enough to keep from plotting against us. In the morning, you will be assigned to a mentor who will take excellent care of you.”
“I can’t believe you would do that,” Aerie said. Suspicion, and then anger, crept through her. “What kind of game are you playing?”
“I don’t play games,” he told her. “But I was hoping, no doubt foolishly, that it would be enough to convince you I am not quite the monster you believe me to be.” With his other hand, he reached over and patted her head gently, almost affectionately, before letting her go and heading out.
An unusual mix of shame, fear, and confusion at the seemingly innocent act forced her hand. “No doubt indeed,” she murmured, watching him walk out the door.
♦11♦
Exton flexed his fingers. The memory of Aerie’s hand in his burned into his mind as it warmed his flesh. A strange mix of anticipation and frustration stirred inside of him.
Hours had passed since he’d gone to see her. Exton had been unable, or unwilling, to go back to sleep since then. He chose to pass the time in the Captain’s Lounge, but for the first time in a long time, the small world outside the window was unable to keep neither his interest nor his derision.
From the moment he and his crew entered space, Exton had become a ghost, unchanging against the endless tides of life and space, longing only for revenge. He knew it was no coincidence he willingly adopted the title of the ghost of Captain Chainsword.
Something about Aerie disturbed him, and he had been right to call her dangerous. For the first time in years, he felt his humanity creeping up behind him, and while he was determined to ignore it, he found that he could not ignore her.
Sighing, he looked back out the window beside him. He had a feeling he did not really want to ignore her, either.
The earth was far enough away that he could see the entirety of it, much like he had the night of Emery’s wedding. It was strange to think that it had only been three days since he was on Earth itself, fighting and battling inside the heart of the URS.
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