David nodded and sighed. She could almost feel the devil slither out of him with that breath, sated for the moment. “We can send him a message in the morning. Lie down,” he said.
Caty shook her head. “I’m okay,” she said. She did her best not to look at David. He sat there, looking guilty and miserable—a little boy staring at his feet. He looked up briefly to try another apology, but she stopped him.
“We don’t need to talk about it. Tomorrow you’ll go get adjusted again. I’ll do my best not to make you jealous, and you’ll have better self-control next time. It won’t happen again.”
He nodded, eyes back on his feet.
Caty swallowed past a painful lump and held back bitter tears. Here she was—one eye swollen shut, cheek red in the shape of his palm, and she was the one reassuring him.
“I’m going to tell him not to contact me again,” she said. The words caught in her throat as she said them, and a deep ache began radiating in her chest, but she knew it was the right decision. Alexander was a sore spot between them. Getting closure once and for all might just be enough to get David to calm down and stop being so jealous.
Now that she thought about it, his jealousy and insecurity was at the root of all of their fights. Take that away, and maybe he’d finally become the man she’d always hoped he could be. Maybe they could make things work for Dorian’s sake.
What other choice did she have?
Chapter 37
Alexander fell asleep with his comm band centimeters from his nose, hoping to hear back from Catalina soon. The officer at the comms had orders to wake him with an alarm call as soon as a message came from her. When he heard that alarm trilling, he sat straight up and hurriedly paged through his message alerts. The latest one was from Catalina. Alexander’s pulse quickened, and suddenly he was out of breath.
Grinning, he opened the message and held the comm band upright to watch as her hologram played out above his bed.
His grin vanished the instant that he saw her. She looked almost the same as the hologram in her dossier, except that she was wearing an eye patch and her hair was tied up in a bun. Sitting in her lap was a small baby boy. Sitting beside her was a man he didn’t recognize with unruly brown hair, brown eyes, stubble. He was Latin, good-looking.
“Hello, Alex,” Caty said, her tone flat. She wasn’t smiling. “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it. I’ve moved on, just like you told me to.”
Alexander blinked, his eyes widening in horror. No.
“This is Dorian,” she said, picking up one pudgy baby hand to wave at the camera. “And David,” she said, identifying the Latin man beside her without looking at him. That man reacted by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leaning his head against hers in a proprietary way.
David. He could be President fucking Baker for all Alexander cared. All that mattered was that he had his arm around Caty’s shoulders, and his head was leaning against hers.
“We’re a family,” she said. “I wish I had better news for you. I wish…” This time she glanced at the man beside her. She turned back to the camera with a frown. “I wish I didn’t have to hurt you like this. I’m sorry, Alex.” She bit her bottom lip and he saw tears welling in the eye without the patch. She shook her head. “This is goodbye. It would be better for both of us if you didn’t contact me again. I wish you all the best. All I want is for you to be happy, too. Keep safe. I…” She glanced sideways once more as if… as if she were asking for his permission? But fucking David didn’t react to that. He just went on smiling like an idiot.
Alexander frowned and shook his head. Caty turned back to the camera with a bitter smile. One tear went streaking down. Baby Dorian began to cry. “That’s all I can say. Goodbye, Alex.”
Alexander sat in utter shock, his heart aching, his mind spinning. He shook his head and stood up from his bed. Anger, loss, betrayal, and confusion waged a bloody war in his brain. He got dressed in his uniform, but not his pressure suit, and stormed out of his quarters, his heart pounding an angry rhythm in his chest. He was in a big hurry to go nowhere. He couldn’t run from what he’d just seen and heard. The echoes of Caty’s words haunted his every step.
His stride faltered as he passed the other officers’ quarters. He almost stopped to knock on Korbin’s door, but then he remembered she was gone—a traitor—and now there was a supercilious impostor sleeping in her bed. After Admiral Wilson’s recommendation to make Max the Lincoln’s new XO as a favor to the president, Alexander had done exactly that—not that he’d had a choice in the matter.
Alexander scowled and kept going. As he reached McAdams’ room, he stopped and turned. He rapped his knuckles on the door rather than using the intercom to announce himself. His brain was so thick and fuzzy with grief that he couldn’t think straight. What was he doing going to McAdams? She wasn’t Korbin’s replacement as the ship’s counselor.
The door swished open and there she stood, dressed in a flowing black night gown, her blue eyes red and puffy from crying, her blond hair loose and flowing over her shoulders. In that moment she looked a whole lot like Caty. He’d been a fool to wait for her.
“Captain?” McAdams asked, sounding nasal, her voice weak.
He took a quick step forward, grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her. She stumbled back a step and then kissed him back, biting his lip and running her hands greedily over his shaven head. The door swished shut behind them, and he pulled the drawstring of her gown, dropping it around her ankles. She was naked underneath, her perfect body curving against his, nipples firmly aroused. He pressed himself against her, and she began undressing him, fumbling with the buttons of his uniform, then his belt. In no time at all, she had him naked, too. She grabbed him below his waist, her hands shaking, and he ran a hand between her legs, slipping his fingers into her. Their bodies shivered, but from heat not the cold. They fetched up against her bed and collapsed into it. She slid down to him and he slipped into her. She gasped and wrapped her legs tight around his waist, trapping him there. Their tongues danced inside each other’s mouths as their hearts beat against one another’s like drums. Their bodies rocked to the beat, and for a few short minutes ecstasy wiped away the pain.
Chapter 38
Six Months Later - February 18th, 2793
Alexander sat on the bridge, his gaze tracking the approach of the Confederacy’s colony fleet. The Alliance’s colony fleet was still stuck back on Earth, only now getting ready to launch. They were running almost a week behind the Confederacy. That meant the Confederacy was poised to travel through the wormhole first, but in order to do so they had to get through the more than twenty Alliance warships blockading the entrance. Currently the relative strength of Alliance to Confederate forces was sitting at 1 to 1.1 in favor of the Confederacy, and that ratio was expected to tip even further in their favor once their colony fleet arrived with its bevy of escorting destroyers and carriers. Negotiations and posturing were ongoing between the two fleets, but it wasn’t looking good. Last Alexander had heard, the Confederacy had issued an ultimatum: let them through the wormhole, or else.
The Confederacy seemed determined to press their advantage in order to be the first ones through the wormhole, no doubt so that they could be the ones to blockade it from the other side.
“Davorian, what’s the ETA until the Confederate colony fleet arrives?”
“Two hours, sir.”
“Vasquez—any changes in the Confederate formation?”
“Not yet, sir,” she replied from sensors.
Alexander nodded. “Keep me posted.”
Beside him, Commander Carter sat up straighter in his couch. “We need to make contact with the enemy fleet. It’s time to negotiate.”
Alexander turned to his XO with a frown. “That’s not our job, Commander.”
Max met that frown with a grim smile, his blue eyes dancing behind his helmet visor. “Actually, it is. I’m still plenipotentiary to the Alliance, Captain.”
> Alexander felt his frown deepening. He switched to a private channel with his XO. “You and I both know the president is with the fleet. He can negotiate directly. He doesn’t need you as a middle man.”
“If he negotiates directly, he’ll be changing the stakes by admitting that he’s with the fleet. The Confederacy may wish to open fire just for the chance to kill Baker, and even if they don’t place that much value on him per se, the very fact that he’s standing by, ready to travel to Wonderland is a problem. The Confederacy might deduce that we’re abandoning Earth.”
“You’re telling me the president has authorized you to speak on his behalf in these negotiations. Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Go ahead and ask Admiral Wilson. He’ll confirm my orders.”
Alexander held Carter’s gaze for a long moment before turning away and mentally switching from private comms back to his helmet’s external speakers. “Hayes!”
“Sir?”
“Get me Admiral Wilson on the comms.”
“Yes, sir.” A moment later the admiral’s face appeared, dead ahead on the main holo display. He was strapped into an acceleration couch, a glowing blue tactical map projected in front of him. Wilson’s hands flew over holographic controls, making gestures to manipulate the map. He didn’t even appear to notice that Alexander was watching him.
“Admiral Wilson,” Alexander prompted.
The admiral looked up with a scowl. “Captain, what are you doing contacting me? We have literally hours left on the clock to Armageddon. You should be in the middle of negotiations with the enemy.”
Alexander blinked. “Just confirming that Commander Carter has been authorized to conduct those negotiations, sir.”
“He’s authorized. Now let him do his job! We’ll be watching how things play out. Make sure your weapons are all hot and ready. Things could go bad in a matter of seconds, and we need to be able to react.”
“Yes, sir.” The visual vanished and back was a glittering field of stars.
Alexander sighed and shook his head. “Hayes—”
“Already on it, sir… contact established with the enemy flagship. Transmitting.”
A visual of the Confederate admiral appeared, transmitted directly from the bridge of their flagship, the Liaoning—whatever that means, Alexander thought. The admiral wore a white pressure suit and matching helmet. Hayes zoomed in on the man’s face to help them get a read on his body language. His name and rank appeared above the display: Admiral Zhang.
“Admiral Zhang,” Carter began.
“Ambassador,” Zhang replied, nodding. “I did not realize you were with the fleet.”
“I have been appointed to handle negotiations from here on out.”
“Of course, but what is there to negotiate? You already have our terms. Allow us through the wormhole and we will not open fire.”
“Yes… there is a problem with that.”
“Admiral Wilson was kind enough to explain his concerns to me already. I will tell you the same thing I told him. If you are afraid we will try to stop you from traveling through the wormhole after us, then send your fleet with ours. We will arrive at the same time, with roughly the same firepower. If either side chooses to betray the other, the consequences will be the same as they ever have been. I believe you call this mutually assured destruction.”
Alexander found himself looking from Carter to Admiral Zhang and back again, as if his head was mounted on a swivel.
“The problem with that, Admiral, is that if we don’t travel through in perfect tandem there will still be the question of whoever arrives first having the drop on late comers, and how do we know you won’t simply push your ships harder to get through first? We’ll all be asleep.”
Alexander nodded as he listened to that. All signs pointed to a drop down fight before anyone even entered the Looking Glass, but if a fight broke out now with the strength ratios being what they were, the Confederacy would win.
“I have already discussed all of this with Admiral Wilson. I could ask you the same question. What guarantee do we have that you won’t try to beat us to Wonderland? The answer is there are no guarantees, so we must either settle this now, or agree to trust one another. I’m sure we can all agree that no one wants another nuclear war on Earth.”
“Yes, we can agree on that, and in the spirit of continuing peaceful relations, I’ve been authorized to agree to your demands.”
Admiral Zhang appeared taken aback by that. Alexander watched his eyes widen fractionally, and then narrow to oriental slits once more. He took several seconds to process that before he replied. “That is very wise of the Alliance,” he said, each word slow and deliberate, spoken with a wary precision.
“There is a catch.”
“Ah, yes.” Zhang nodded. “I am listening.”
“We will follow you in, just outside of effective laser range.”
“Without your colony fleet?”
“Yes.”
“We will all be asleep. How can we be sure you won’t try to sneak attack us?”
“With what? Autopilot and pre-programmed firing solutions?”
“Yes.”
“That goes both ways, Admiral. As you said, we will have to trust one another.”
“I suppose we will. Why don’t you go through the wormhole first?”
Alexander had been wondering the same thing. If the tactical advantage went to the first one through the wormhole thanks to the radiation belts on the other side, then why wasn’t the Alliance taking that advantage for themselves?
“We have to wait for our colony fleet in order to escort them. President Baker is allowing you to go first as a token of our good will. And as for the situation on the other side of the wormhole, there are ways to manage that risk. Our terms are that we will allow you to go through first if you agree to go straight to Wonderland. If our probes detect you are waiting for us on the other side of the radiation belts, we will turn around and head straight back to Earth with our fleet. You will be able to keep Wonderland for yourselves, but we will have Earth.”
“We will follow you back.”
“I’m sure you would, and there would be open war again. Since none of us want that, I think we can all agree to these terms. As for Wonderland itself, my government is insisting that we divide the planet’s primary landmass straight down the middle. Since none of us know which part of the continent is more valuable, we’ll agree to roll the dice and let you pick which side of the continent to settle.”
Admiral Zhang nodded. “These seem to be fair terms. I will relay them to my government. Please wait while I confer with the Chancellor.”
“Of course.”
The display faded from Admiral Zhang’s face to show the Confederate flag—golden stars in a hammer and sickle pattern on a red background.
Alexander turned to Carter. “We fought a nuclear war to defend our sole rights to the Looking Glass, and now we’re just going to give it up?”
Carter gave him a grim look. “What choice do we have? Their fleet is stronger than ours, and thanks to Korbin’s treachery, the Confederacy knows exactly what’s at stake. They don’t even need to wait to send their own probes. It’s her fault that the war we fought was meaningless. Fighting another meaningless war now won’t change that.”
Alexander looked away. Carter was right, but he still couldn’t believe or accept that Korbin was at fault. The Confederacy had gotten to her somehow and brainwashed her. That was the only explanation.
He had to admit he was relieved by the turn that negotiations were taking. It looked like they would be traveling back to Wonderland again, but that didn’t really matter anymore. He didn’t have anything left to go back to on Earth. Maybe a fresh start was exactly what he needed. His eyes fell on the back of McAdams’ helmet. What they had was purely physical, but maybe now they would have a chance to really get to know each other and make a more meaningful connection.
The good news was that it didn’t look like eithe
r side was eager to start another nuclear war, so Caty would have a chance at happiness with her baby and David. Alexander’s lips curved into a shadow of a smile. The dull ache in his chest told him he still hadn’t moved on, but given enough time he would. He didn’t have any other choice.
Alexander’s thoughts trailed off as he noticed the Confederate flag fade away and Admiral Zhang’s face reappear on-screen.
“We have decided to accept your terms, Ambassador Carter. We request that you withdraw your fleet from the entrance of the wormhole to a distance of one light second and maintain that distance between our two fleets for the duration of the trip through the wormhole. Once our fleets arrive at Wonderland we will agree to maintain a minimum orbital distance of thirty thousand kilometers.”
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