by T Y Carew
The crew was nothing short of the best either—the best captain, headhunted personally by Simon. The best crew, selected from the finest in the private sector. The best engineers, plucked from Simon’s own shipyards and his company’s fleet. The best three chefs from Netera and Tarkan, servicing the bellies of the humans, Lentarin, and Agathen on board. And on Dr. Cardew’s end, the finest scientists and soldiers.
Truth be told, Simon wasn’t very comfortable with the last bunch. They’d agreed on a small squad of marines to help keep peace on board the Exemplar and act as a line of defense in case combat with the Beltine became necessary. All of them were Adamanta-trained and veterans of several conflicts. They were, for the most part, cordial and indifferent to the others on board the ship, exactly as Simon could wish for. He just didn’t like the idea of what they stood for. The Beltine were a threat to the Exemplar, absolutely, but she was more than capable at ship-to-ship combat, with some of the newest heavy laser weaponry available as well as more traditional kinetic munitions. Soldiers on board felt like overkill.
Still, safety first, and all that, he mused to himself as he laid down another winning hand in a game of poker with two of the aforementioned soldiers and his right-hand man, Kingston. One of the soldiers groaned, and Kingston shook his head, his lip twitching upward in a frown, about as much emotion as the man ever showed. As a bodyguard, he was outstanding, but he’d truly missed his calling in life as a wooden board.
As Simon raked in the pocket change on the table, he cocked an eyebrow at Kingston. “Any word from the authorities on Sally?”
“They checked with her family in Gainsbridge,” Kingston rumbled.
Simon waited for the man to continue, but it appeared all the water had been bled from the stone. “And?” he asked patiently.
“Nothing. They haven’t heard from her either.”
Simon folded his arms and rested the elbows on his knees, thinking. “What could have happened to her? She was so excited about this trip.”
Kingston shrugged. Sally, Simon’s latest personal assistant, had come up missing just the morning of the press conference. It was truly bizarre. She would have been up on stage with him, and not that Sally needed a particular boost, but the high visibility could have only shot her career prospects straight up. Simon had no illusions she was entirely happy in his employ and wanted to run her own business someday, but they were both sharks in their own fashion and had gotten on quite well. He’d never had a finer assistant, and Sally’s absence troubled him to no end.
“Well, nothing for it, but in the future, if you do hear something, even if there’s no news, tell me, yeah?” Simon asked Kingston. The big man nodded and dropped more chips in the center of the table. His boss stood up abruptly. “Back in a bit, guys. Need to stretch my legs before I take your next paycheck, too.”
“Har, har,” one of the soldiers grunted.
Simon meandered out into the hallway, nodding and smiling at a perky young thing in one of the ship’s unfortunately shapeless jumpsuits. How was a guy supposed to gauge whether or not he wanted a night of fun when they wore something half a step away from a drab canvas sack? Still, this one was quite pretty, with a face as delicate as a doll’s and three ponytails stretching down to her shoulders. Simon ambled after her, already thinking of how to start up a conversation, when Dr. Cardew stepped out of the galley, a sealed mug in hand.
“Simon,” she said, giving him that tight-lipped smile with just a hint of her teeth. She glanced after the quickly disappearing crew member and then back at him, eyebrow cocked. “Aiming to sample the local cuisine?”
“Something to that effect. The ship treating you well, Evelyn?”
“Oh yes.” Her smile became even toothier. Simon liked the doctor’s mind, but something about Evelyn Cardew’s smile over the last few days unsettled him. Nerves, he supposed. Both of them had quite a bit riding on this venture of theirs. “Your crew has been very accommodating to my people.”
He laid a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Excellent, excellent. How is the training coming along with the sensory equipment? Ready for the mining observations?”
“Absolutely. With five practice runs a day, I feel confident they’ll perform exactly as I hope. Relax, Simon. When we arrive, it’ll be like we’re right there in the midst of things.”
“Let’s hope not,” Simon said, and gave her a polite little chuckle. “Well, carry on then.”
“Aye sir,” Dr. Cardew said, giving him a mockery of a salute. Her smile never once touched her eyes, but Simon was already thinking about that pretty crew member again. Had she been in the personnel files he’d reviewed? Funny, he was usually good with people’s faces but he was drawing a complete blank on hers. As Dr. Cardew headed off to the barracks and private quarters, Simon started down the hallway again, hands jammed in his pockets, trying to recall the woman’s name or any information about her.
Probably one of the junior technicians or janitorial staff, Simon reasoned with himself. There were a dozen of those and he might have just skipped right past her profile. Still, not knowing her name wasn’t exactly the best way to make a first impression, so he decided to head back to his room, what would eventually be the captain’s private quarters, and review the personnel files again.
Cardew had disappeared by the time he started back after her, though her quarters were on the same upper level as his. Probably fraternizing with one of the crew members, just like he planned to. Simon didn’t particularly care. This whole mission was a bit of a joke, something flashy and big for the cameras and the masses. A paid vacation, more or less, as their real work would come after this voyage, when they both returned.
Dr. Cardew’s research facilities were housed in a safe, secure abandoned waystation meant for basic repairs and resupplies for passing freighters that never took that route anymore. Simon would be headed back to Netera, to the grindstone of briefing his investors on the long-term plans of working with Dr. Cardew. From there, he’d oversee closely the Adamanta miners in his employ, especially if his people or the doctor’s discovered anything notable from observation of the Beltine after this expedition. All in all, their presence on the Exemplar was nothing but a show. He hadn’t even intended on coming, but Evelyn talked him into it.
Working with Cardew was a gamble. He’d heard some of the stories, of course, but she needed him. Without funding, her research was finished. That was a leash no scientist could escape from. As for Simon's side of things, her experiments in Adamanta could be the key to mass production, the kind his company needed to bring the metal to all of humankind and not just the military. Plus, dangerous or not, Evelyn's ideas were truly extraordinary. The sensory equipment they’d be using was a brilliant take on the Adamanta camera eyes Mattie and the military preferred. With near three-hundred-sixty-degree depth of sight, crystal clear audio feeds in atmosphere, and a sensor array that could gauge everything from radiation levels to the scents of objects around it, they alone practically made the alliance with Cardew worth it. The problem was that they were quite finicky, and not all the features were Adamanta-controlled, meaning there had to be at least two operators, one trained in the special metal and the other at a workstation. But for a first-generation design, it was brilliant work. And that was just the beginning. He’d seen a dazzling number of her design plans, and while quite a few were either ludicrously pointless or far too prohibitively expensive, many held a promise of making his investment back tenfold. No, for Simon, the gamble was definitely worth it.
As he neared the lift, he noticed the door to the soldiers’ barracks was half open. He caught just a glance inside. Dr. Cardew was gesturing at a pair of lockers next to the bunks while a burly woman in the black fatigues of the private security team nodded. She saw Simon and jerked her thumb at the door. Dr. Cardew fell silent and poked her head out.
“Just discussing the security team not touching some of the more fragile equipment when they’re doing their sweeps,” she said, that toothy smi
le back in place.
“Ah. Yeah, don’t do that,” Simon said cheerfully. “Hey, Doctor, do you know—” The soft chirp of his personal comm chirped. “Excuse me.”
Dr. Cardew smiled and nodded, and shut the door behind Simon as he turned away to answer. The friendly, soothing voice on the other end belonged to the ship’s comms officer, Avery Lawrence.
“Mr. Dantos, when we slowed out of FTL, we received a hailing data package sent hours ago. From, ah, Colonel Xander Finlay.”
Simon raised an eyebrow. It was no surprise really that the military would have found out about this operation. The Agathen captain who provided his company with the video would have been a fool to not keep copies. It was probable she’d sold them to the military too. Still, Xander’s speedy response rankled Simon. He’d expected to be ahead of them by days, not hours. Quickly, the nameless crew member faded from his memory as Simon turned and started for the lift that would take him to the bridge.
Chapter 3
Simon’s face on the screen was just as well put together as it had been during the press conference. Matt felt the urge to stab the monitor repeatedly with her Adamanta needles, despite the fact that they would probably puncture the Contessa’s hull. Might be worth it. Behind him was the vast bridge of the Exemplar. Several crew members in jumpsuits and a tall, barrel-chested man sat in chairs in the background, watching the screen or their employer.
“Xander!” Simon said, grinning widely. “Good to see you. You too, Drew. And you…. Lentarin… twin… individuals. Look, I’m not great with names today. I’d apologize, but I’m not going to.” His smile lessened, and he added more somberly, “Matt.”
“Simon,” she said, cordially and without a trace of the irritation he brought about in her.
“Just Simon? Not going to go off on me, oh delicate object of my heart?”
Matt settled her hands in her lap and reminded herself mentally not to give him the pleasure of riling her up. “This conversation’s being recorded for the military’s sake, so no, I’ll avoid the name-calling for the moment.”
“Ah, such a shame.”
“I will definitely not call you a petty, insufferable, imbecilic man-child who has practically become a traitor out of nothing so stupid as spite.”
From behind her, Drew tried to mask a laugh with a cough, and even Xander couldn’t help raising a hand to his face to hide his own smile. Cooler heads had to prevail, though, so he jumped in before the conversation devolved into squabbling.
“Simon, we’re acting under orders here to destroy that Beltine base of operations.”
“Are we being ordered to stand down?” Simon asked, almost hopefully.
“And give you the fuel you’d need to act as a martyr for your potential customers? Not likely,” Matt said. Under the edge of what the camera would pick up, Xander snaked a hand out to brush hers. Message received. She squeezed his fingers and fell silent as his hand drifted away.
“We have a unique opportunity to study the Beltine in a situation that’s never been documented at length before, and you and your people want to just throw explosives at it. That’s typical of the way things work under Xander Finlay, isn’t it?” Simon’s lip drew up in contempt.
“You have entered into a partnership with a woman who has cornered the market in extreme tactics. The Anathema bombs violated a number of conventions. She’s assisted a known murderer to advance her cause, and she’s put us in dire straits simply to prove her weaponry and technology work.” Xander said. How he could remain so calm, so focused, Matt didn’t know. Then again, he hadn’t slept with the playboy like her, so there was that.
“Dr. Cardew’s methods are unusual, and she’s admitted very publicly that she’s made some terrible miscalculations. But the fact is that she is quite brilliant, and her ideas may save billions at the hands of a very few. And with my guidance and close, careful watch, those very few will become none at all. Besides, this is all moot anyway. It’s a simple observation run, nothing further. We’re watching the Beltine movement, then we’ll lance apart the weak points of their operations with our newest crop of weaponry. If you’d like some of the credit, you’re more than welcome to join in at that point.”
“This isn’t about the credit,” Xander said. “Neither you nor my people need it. We all know what we’re capable of and so does the public. But the Agathen got lucky. You know this. The chances of observing the Beltine long enough to gather any meaningful data are infinitely small. This may even be a trap. Losing a ship as clearly well-made as the Exemplar would be a setback to all of humanity, not just your company.” Xander leaned forward, his gray eyes softening. “Think this through, Simon. Please. This isn’t about our history. It’s about us, all of us, doing our jobs quickly and efficiently and protecting lives.”
It was a good speech and on anyone else, it might have worked. But Mattie knew instinctively that it was just the sort of thing that would make Simon feel smug and secure in his position. Egomaniacs weren’t convinced by pleas to watch out for the people around them. They had to be manipulated with strokes to their own sense of worth. Nothing and no one else mattered to them, and inwardly she groaned.
“Well, Xander, we’ll have to discuss this further when you’ve caught up to us. By then, we’ll have plenty of video footage. We’ll even share some with the military as a sign of thanks for escorting us out here to the edge of nowhere.”
“Simon—” Xander snapped, but the other man ordered the feed to be cut, and the screen went blank. The colonel rubbed his cheeks, and finally leaned forward to open the comms to their two escorting fighters. “Hayward, Everett, did you get all that?”
“Yes, sir,” the captains of both ships said smartly. It was their first mission back together since the nearly disastrous defense against a trio of Beltine hive ships that had ended in the loss of one of the military’s finest captains, Carla Pegg. Both the Hayward and Everett had nearly been destroyed in that fight, along with the Contessa. But now, newly repaired, with an even wider array of weaponry, they looked practically brand-new in the Contessa’s digitally enhanced viewscreens.
“Your orders?” the captain of the Hayward asked.
“As we discussed. The Contessa’s first priority is the safety of the people aboard the Exemplar. This doesn’t change that. Maintain a low profile, but if you spot any hostile activity threatening either of our ships, fire at will.”
“Yes, sir!” the captains responded, and signed off.
As Xander signed off, Matt slipped out of her harness and rose, grumbling to herself about her ex. “Anybody want to spar?” she snarled.
“I could use a workout,” Trey said. He glanced at Xander for approval, since he was supposed to take a shift at the helm, and the colonel flapped his hand in a go-on gesture.
Tyra shifted seats and strapped herself in. Drew fidgeted in his as Xander prepared a message to send back to Kelton. “So…” Drew said. “Ah.”
“What?” Xander asked, annoyed.
“Boss… ah… the hand-holding.”
Xander went stiff and Tyra stared very hard at the data running down her screen. “I needed her calm. That was all.”
“Ah,” Drew said. “Yeah. Well, if you ever need me to calm down, maybe just stick to calling me by my rank. We’ll skip the hand-holding.”
***
The message came for them on the last leg of the journey. The Lentarin twins had a Smash board between the two of them, focused on the twenty or so magnetic pieces left in the expanse. Xander was ostensibly doing pull-ups, though really he had stopped a few minutes ago to admire Mattie’s form as she approached her hundredth crunch – with two Adamanta daggers twirling in midair above her.
As she brought her back up off the mat, she asked, “Really? People would all dress up?”
“Well,” Xander said, “keep in mind I was a kid and I think it was pretty much for us little ones. But I definitely remember being with adults dressed up like cavemen. They took us door to door. It was
crazy how much candy we got.”
Trey shuffled one of his magnetic towers forward and gobbled up a stack of Tyra’s. “Now that’s a tradition you humans should bring back and introduce to our people.”
“No kidding,” Matt said, the daggers dipping a little before she refocused and brought them back up. “Free candy!”
Xander jumped up and grabbed the lip of the exposed steel beam again. Arms quivering, he grunted, “We’re adults. We can all afford our own candy.” Three sets of stony gazes tracked him. “But then again, yes, free sugar.”
Over the intercom, Drew called back, “Boss, we’ve got an incoming data package from General Kelton.”
Grateful the others wouldn’t have to see him struggle with another fifteen reps, Xander dropped to the ground. “On our way up.”
“Truce?” Trey asked his sister.
She snorted and gestured at the board. At most, she was a half hour away from victory. “Right,” she hissed. “Truce.”
“Can’t blame me for trying.”
The twins set about picking up the board, and Xander offered Matt a hand as she finished up one more crunch, the daggers settling on the table. She took it, her small digits entwining nicely with his, and he pulled her upright. Whether Matt meant to or not, her momentum kept her going and she bumped right into Xander, their faces just inches away from each other. The little sheen of sweat on her face brought to mind something animalistic in Xander, and he had a hard time looking away.
“Oops,” Matt said, almost whispering. Her grin told him she knew exactly what she was doing, and his throat involuntarily jumped. Every inch of Matilda Adair made him feel like he suffered from a fever Xander couldn’t shake, but it was that grin that maybe made him feel hottest. It had become the highlight of his days. She glanced down, then back up again. “Mind if I have my hand back… Colonel?”