by Jessie Kwak
Starla finally nods. She’s found that if she refuses to respond at all, some people write off communication for good. This might be her only chance to get answers.
“Good.” The woman’s still speaking aloud while her hands dance, probably for Mahr’s benefit. “Do you know where you are?”
Starla considers. Is the woman gauging her knowledge of geography, or her intelligence in general? Probably both. Prison, Starla signs. New Sarjun.
Hali frowns at that last sign, and Starla fingerspells it. She can’t remember the standard USL sign for New Sarjun — she and Mona had their own slang for so many things.
“Yes,” says Hali. “That’s right. You’re under Alliance protection.”
What happened to my parents? Starla leaves the last sign hanging in the air a moment before resting her hands back on the table.
Hali looks at Mahr, who’s apparently said something to her — Starla sees only the last few syllables slicing out of Mahr’s sneering lips. “She’s asking about her parents,” Hali says. Mahr just shakes her head.
“We’ll get to that,” Hali says and signs to Starla. “But for now I have some questions. Can you tell me about life on Silk Station? Were you taken care of there?”
Starla wrinkles her nose. It was home, she signs, confused. Was she taken care of there? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“Who raised you?”
Starla glances from Hali to Mahr, who is watching her coldly. What are these questions?
My parents raised me, Starla signs. Where are they?
Hali ignores her question. “I’m confused. Did your parents take you with them on their raids? On the Nanshe?”
Of course not, Starla signs. She’d wanted to go for years, but they hadn’t let her. Not until this year, until her fifteenth birthday, when they’d finally agreed she could start training as crew. If not for that, she wouldn’t have been on the Nanshe when the Alliance attacked Silk Station. Wouldn’t have —
Hali is waving to get her attention. “Then who raised you when they were gone?”
Starla shrugs. What, did this woman want a list? Any number of aunts, uncles, older cousins, station mechanics, and cooks had done the job.
Starla and the other children had stalked Silk Station, hurtling through the corridors as if propelled by rockets, chasing after older cousins in the peculiar game they played in the figure-eight hallway near the bioregenerative gardens, screaming and reversing directions on a toe, arms flinging out to correct over-exuberant spins in the low gravity. They were legion, underfoot, existing continuously on the verge between play and being snatched up by one of the station crew and given a chore.
Dinners were the same chaos, a gaggle of children descending on the commissary at any hour, whenever they were hungry. School was TUTOR, an AI that came preloaded with courses from Hypatia Educational Facilities Corporation that students could work through at will, with full knowledge that their progress data was being reported to the aunts and uncles. Curfew was a word from the novels she downloaded from TUTOR.
Who had raised her?
Whoever was around, Starla signs.
“Whoever was around,” Hali says, and she and Mahr share a look full of meaning that Starla can’t decipher. “You’re very thin,” she says and signs to Starla. “Did they feed you well?”
What the hell did that mean?
Starla glares at her. Where are my parents?
“We’re just trying to understand your life,” Hali says, hands fluid and defensive. “You’re on the edge of what the Alliance considers a child. Your parents chose to become criminals, but you had no choice. You’ve had a hard life. Do you understand?”
Starla feels a chill. Raj and Lasadi Dusai chose to live life on the fringes, managing their glorious and infamous empire from an asteroid station hidden deep in the debris of Durga’s Belt. Starla Dusai, on the other hand, could tell a sob story about being beaten and neglected and starved at the hands of her horrible pirate parents, and win a free ticket into the open arms of the Indiran Alliance. A free ticket into the society her parents had fled years ago.
Where are my parents? Starla snarls the words on stiff, angry fingers.
Hali looks sad. “I don’t think she’s ready to talk yet,” she says to Mahr.
Mahr knocks on the door and the two guards come back in, hands and stunners raised to subdue her.
Where are —
Starla gets only those words out before her hands are grabbed, her arms cuffed, her ribs slammed into the hard metal edge of the table.
They drag her back to her cell.
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Acknowledgments
I owe a huge debt of gratitude to a number of people for their support and patience as I worked on Negative Return.
To every person who left a review on my last two books, or took the time to tell me how much you liked them in person, THANK YOU!!! You all have no idea how much that kept me going. Especially Kristin Koontz, who despite my horror at it keeps introducing me to people by saying, “This is my friend Jessie and she’s an author.”
Thank you to my husband, Robert Kittilson, for brainstorming plot elements with me for hours on end — and for being blunt about when an idea sounded boring. You were correct every time.
Thank you thank you to Andrea Rangel, Elizabeth Mitchell, and Kathy Kwak for being willing to read my first drafts, and for the excellent feedback. You ladies are amazing.
Finally, thanks to Fiona Jade (fionajaydemedia.com) for the cover design, and to the eagle-eyed Kyra Freestar (Bridge Creek Editing) for the phenomenal editing.
About the Author
Jessie Kwak is a freelance writer and novelist living in Portland, Oregon. When she’s not working with B2B marketers, you can find her scribbling away on her latest novel, riding her bike to the brewpub, or sewing something fun.
Connect with me:
www.jessiekwak.com
[email protected]
Also by Jessie Kwak
It’s been years since the Ramos sisters have been close, but when Patricia is accidentally possessed by Valeria’s dead boyfriend, Marco, they have one last shot at working out their differences. But with a drug smuggling gang hot on their heels, will they have time to heal their relationship?
From Razorgirl Press. Available in print and ebook on Amazon.
Starla Dusai is fifteen, deaf — and being held as an enemy combatant by the Indiran Alliance. Willem Jaantzen is a notorious crime lord about to end a fearsome vendetta — and most probably his life. When he learns his goddaughter has been captured by the Alliance, will he be able to save her? And her, him?
Available in print, ebook, and audiobook.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Table of Contents
Free Books!
Cover
1. Bad Jazz
2. Botching the Job
3. Motley
4. How To Make Friends
5. Easy Peasy
6. Fun at the Terminal
7. Pickup Lines
8. Team Player
9. Blackheart
10. Professionals
11. We’re a Go for Trouble
12. Heisting
13. Backing up the Backup Plans
14. Kill Shot
15. Too Much Drama
16. Payout
17. Never Say ‘Ain’t Ever’
Bonus Excerpt
Starfall
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Jessie Kwak