Solar Heat

by Susan Kearney

  “Poli, dear. Don’t upset yourself,” her husband spoke up, dropped a few bags, then offered his forearm to Derrek in greeting. “I’m Mavinor Raet.”

  “Derrek Archer.”

  Mavinor placed an arm over Poli’s shoulder. As she calmed down a bit, Derrek decided the kids were better off with the man around than without.

  At least Poli seemed to make some effort to lower her voice. “Don’t upset myself? You just dropped my beautiful new clothes, and now they’ll have wrinkles.”

  “It’s okay, Poli. Calm down,” Mavinor spoke soothingly.

  “And that man”—Poli sniffled and pointed at Derrek—“is trying to steal our children.”

  Weird how she mentioned the wrinkled clothes before she expressed concern for her children. And why had she jumped to the conclusion that Derrek wanted the kids? Was she paranoid? Or a mind reader? Since he’d seen holopics, Derrek hadn’t been surprised that Poli was gorgeous. What was shocking to him was that he could have ever been attracted to such a seemingly silly woman. Not that she was stupid. Shrewdness glowed in her eyes when she’d guessed he was there about the kids.

  According to the reports, the man doted on his wife, and Derrek had to give Mavinor credit. He didn’t raise his tone, and his voice remained patient. “I hardly think—”

  “I don’t pay you to think,” she snapped, and Mavinor turned bright red at the insult. At her rudeness, Derrek thought, better you than me, buddy. Perhaps he hadn’t missed as much as he’d believed all these years, the time spent longing for a woman he disliked wasted.

  Another bit of his heart healed.

  Unlike Azsla, who was calm and practical, Poli seemed difficult, selfish, and one-dimensional. He couldn’t help wondering if she’d always been like this or if she’d changed. And the man he’d spent years resenting, Mavinor, well—Derrek couldn’t even understand why the guy stuck around if Poli treated him like this. Talk about a doormat.

  He also didn’t like it that Tish appeared to be a miniature Poli, but approved of the girl’s wanting to study engineering. Maybe her mother hadn’t ruined her yet, although after the unpleasant conversation yesterday with his daughter, Derrek’s influence might be coming at just the right time.

  “We can have this conversation here, with your neighbors watching,” Derrek said, his tone mild but firm, his face serious, “or we can go inside. However, we will have a conversation. The choice is yours.”

  Poli spun on her heel. “I’m calling—”

  “No one.” Derrek encircled her upper arm and led her inside. The others followed, but Tad was the only one with a grin. Tish was a fountain of tears. Mavinor looked resigned.

  Inside, the house was filled to bursting with stuff: garish paintings in bright green, reds, and oranges, sculptures of naked men, dried flowers in ceramic and glass vases, knickknacks of glass, metal, and wooden carvings. Unlike Derrek’s elegant mansion, here holopics spun, spoke, and crawled along tabletops like banners. He noted a gazella collection, assorted mirrors in clashing frames of gold, bronze, and silver, lamps with dozens of shades in assorted colors and sizes, all of it glittery and so overdone, he couldn’t find a peaceful place to rest his eyes. Talk about overindulgence. Poli seemed to be more than a shopaholic. This extravagance was a sickness. Yet, with all this wastefulness, she didn’t have time, credit, or interest to buy Tad proper fitting pants or see fit to pay for her daughter’s education.

  Poli pointed to a hallway, her voice shrill. “Children, go to your rooms while the adults talk.”

  Tad shook his head. “I want to hear what my father has to say.”

  Poli lowered her voice to a threatening menace. “Young man, do not defy—”

  Derrek stuck up for his son. “Let him stay. What I have to say—”

  “He does not need to hear.”

  “Actually, he does,” Derrek argued.

  “Just because you pay for some things—”

  “Some?” Derrek arched his brow.

  “—doesn’t mean you have the right to come here and tell me what my children—”

  “Our children.”

  “—should hear.”

  “Either I’ll tell them while you are around, or I’ll find another way . . .” Derrek let the threat hang in the air. “Lives are at stake.”

  “Yeah . . . right.” Poli sank into the sofa as if he’d just announced a weather change instead of a crisis. Her eyes burned with accusation. “I’ve always feared your business dealings might entice a kidnapper to come after the children. It’s not right for one man to corner the market on salt. It’s not right for you to have so much when others . . .”

  “There’s no kidnapper. And that salt business has fed and clothed and housed you for many years.”

  Mavinor placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder, a silent entreaty for her to settle down. “Please tell us why you have come.”

  Derrek told them about the asteroid threat. He explained in great detail that if the rock struck Zor, no one would survive. Tad looked thoughtful and almost excited. Tish turned greenish, as if she was about to be sick. Mavinor held it together. Poli’s expression remained unfazed. And when Derrek made the offer to move them to the asteroids, a wide grin broke over Tad’s face.

  “I want to go. I want to go.” He practically leaped up and down with joy.

  Poli snorted. “I don’t believe you, Derrek. If there’s a threat, why haven’t we heard anything on the news?”

  “The danger isn’t common knowledge yet. After Zorans learn about Katadama and the threat to Zor, panic may ensue. It will be dangerous to stay.”

  “So you claim.”

  “Mom often goes into denial to get her way,” Tad explained with an astuteness too old for his years.

  “Don’t you be rude, young man,” Poli snapped.

  “Son, I’m glad you want to come with me.” Derrek ruffled the boy’s hair. “But the rest of your family may decide to stay.”

  “I know.” The boy lost his smile. “Why can’t they see what needs to be done?”

  Derrek looked at Tish and tried again, taking the high road and trying not to insult Poli. “Your mother likes it here. It’s hard for her to leave.”

  “It’s stupid,” Tad frowned at his mother, who was shaking her head as if refusing to believe the threat would make it disappear. “But Tish isn’t stupid. She’s smart. She just plays dumb so Mom will buy her stuff.”

  Tish scowled at her brother. “Traitor. I heard you.”

  “That was a compliment.”

  Derrek approached Tish. “What about you? What do you want to do?”

  “Don’t you dare take his side,” Poli muttered, her tone snide. “He hasn’t given us one shred of proof.”

  “Mom, why can’t we all go?” Tish surprised Derrek. She might be spoiled, she might have been taught to value shallow objects, but Tad was right, she wasn’t stupid.

  “Because I get space sick,” Poli whined. “I almost died on the trip from Rama to Zor. This time I might die from the nausea.”

  “I’ve developed a new ship that opens a portal. The journey isn’t as long as you think. You could come with us.” Derrek made the offer, even as he disliked the idea of taking Poli with them. However, for his children’s sake, he had to offer her a ride. But he couldn’t help thinking about how many more worthy people could have taken her place: pilots, hydroponics gardeners, mechanics, medics. She seemed trained to do nothing beyond shop.

  “How new is your ship? Why haven’t I heard about it?” Poli eyed him suspiciously.

  “It’s a prototype.”

  “Experimental?”

  “We tested it on the journey to Zor, and it worked fine with only a few minor problems.”

  “What kind of minor problems?”

  “Who cares?” Tad in
terrupted with the fearless impatience of a fourteen-year-old. “If we stay here, we die. What’s to think about?”

  “Don’t be rude, young man. I’m still not convinced there’s a threat. Besides, have you ever been so sick you couldn’t keep down food for weeks?”

  “Sick is better than dead,” Tad argued.

  Despite the grim circumstances, Derrek smiled with pride. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  Poli shook her head. “I don’t believe there’s any danger. Even I know the chance of an asteroid hitting Zor is very small, with all that empty space. So I’m staying, and so is my family.”

  “Mom—” Tad started to protest. Derrek caught the boy’s eye and shook his head to silence him. Tad snapped his mouth closed and headed down the hall. “I’m going to pack.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Poli yelled. “Your father made up a crisis to take you away from me.”

  Tad kept walking. Derrek took pride in the fact that for a young boy he certainly had a lot of guts. But then Derrek turned his gaze to his daughter and saw the quiet fear in Tish’s eyes as she made her decision. “I won’t leave you, Mom.”

  Derrek’s heart went out to her, too. She might be spoiled, but she was loyal . . . to the death, her decision painfully brave even if teenagers didn’t really believe they could die. Tish would stay. For now . . . but not for long.

  “It’s your choice.” Derrek stood. “If any of you change your minds, my offer stands, and you know how to reach me.”

  “You’re just going to leave?” Poli’s eyes narrowed on him. “It’s not like you to give up.”

  Poli was right. Derrek would be back to attack the problem from a different angle. Preferably when he could talk to Tish, alone.

  “There’s nothing else to be said,” Derrek said. “Tad wants to come with me.”

  “I’ll take you to court.”

  Derrek frowned at her, but didn’t bother to answer. He was done. He couldn’t say or do any more to convince Poli, Mavinor, and Tish to join them.

  “And if the asteroid doesn’t hit? Do you plan to bring back Tad?” Poli asked, her question an admission she realized that she couldn’t stop Derrek.

  “That will be up to Tad.” Derrek folded his arms over his chest.

  Poli reached for the com link. “If I call the authorities on you now—”

  “No one will believe you, and my attorneys will make your last days miserable. Is that what you want? If so, make the call.” Derrek wasn’t bluffing. He let Poli read the determination in his eyes, in the hard set of his tone, in the stubborn set of his shoulders.

  Tad bounded into the room, a backpack stuffed with his dearest possessions. From the assorted lumps, Derrek guessed he’d packed more hardware than clothing.

  Tad tried to hug Poli, but she turned away. “Mom. Mavinor. I’ll link up over the com when I can.”

  The parting was stiff, awkward. The moment Derrek and Tad stepped into the hovercraft, his son turned to him. “So what’s the plan to get Tish?”

  Derrek looked over his shoulder at his son. “I figured you know the family routine and could help me out with that.”

  Derrek smiled inwardly. Tad’s words renewed his faith that despite the bad example Poli set, the boy had both brains and guts. Tish wouldn’t be left behind. Derrek’s daughter might have made her own decision, but no seventeen-year-old girl should have to choose between living with her father or dying with her mother.

  Tad tapped Derrek’s arm to get his attention. “I’m wired into their personal links, home security, and computer systems.”

  Derrek laughed. “That will be useful.” He looked at Tad again, his smile fading. “I assume you encrypted the illegal tap to cover your sorry ass?”

  Tad looked at him warily. But when he issued no reprimand, the kid seemed to understand that Derrek simply wanted to ensure Tad was smart enough not to get caught. Derrek sighed. He suspected his son broke the rules on a regular basis, but then some rules needed breaking.

  Tad didn’t appear to be hurting anyone, so once again Derrek kept his opinion to himself. He couldn’t help but admire Tad, yet he was reluctant to encourage him. Rule breaking needed to be tempered with judgment.

  “Yes, sir. I’m careful.” The boy took no offense. In fact, he seemed proud that his father understood the significance of the intel he offered.

  Damned if the two of them didn’t seem to fit together like two kernels off the same cob. And Derrek couldn’t help letting some of his joy reflect in his grin. The kid smiled back, as friendly as a puppy, and he ached to give him a hug.

  During the ride back, Tad asked dozens of questions about flying and even took a turn at the controls. Derrek’s happiness was tempered by all the years he’d missed—Tad’s first smile, his first toy, his first school project. Yet, at the same time, he was determined to enjoy every micronbit of time he had with his marvelous son.

  AZSLA HAD SLEPT while Derrek was gone, and after she’d awakened, she’d checked in with his science team. She’d even spoken to a brilliant engineer, Taylo Misa, and the two of them had tossed around a few ideas that might prevent the asteroid from striking Zor.

  She’d watched Sauren coordinate a mass evacuation and realized that the seats on Derrek’s spaceships would bring a premium price. With lives at stake, he could sell those spots for a fortune. Yet, he’d offered them to her and her crew for free. While his generosity heated her almost as much as that passionate kiss they’d shared, Azsla had lived long enough to know nothing came without a price.

  When Derrek returned to his home, Azsla met them in the hovercraft’s garage, expecting to meet his ex-wife and children. After having slept, the dark circles under Azsla’s eyes were gone, and she felt more like her normal self. Although she dreaded meeting Poli, she was curious to meet Derrek’s son and daughter. So she was surprised to see only Tad, but she didn’t blurt out awkward questions.

  Derrek stepped out of the hovercraft and introduced them. “Azsla, meet my son, Tad. Tad, this is Azsla. She’s one of the first five slaves to escape Rama since the revolution. She came in just this week. Her status is a high-level secret.”

  The kid looked at her with awe. “Hi. I won’t tell.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you work for my dad?” he asked.

  Azsla didn’t say anything, preferring to let Derrek clarify their relationship. Apparently Derrek had the same idea, wanting her to define their situation. The silence grew and soaked up tension.

  “Damn.” Tad looked from his father to her. “I stuck my foot in mud slime, didn’t I? This awkward silence must mean that you like each other but haven’t admitted it yet.”

  “Tad!” Derrek admonished. “You’re going to have to work on keeping those kinds of perceptive observations to yourself.”

  “Okay.”

  Azsla chuckled. She couldn’t help it. The kid was so insightful she’d have to watch her step around him. Then Tad shocked her by reaching over, placing his hand on her shoulder, and saying, “I hated what the Firsts did to my father. It’s not fair we didn’t have a chance to know one another. But I’m glad he’s not alone anymore.”

  Her throat tightened. This kid, this young son of Derrek’s, had admitted his worry over his father with such refreshing honesty that she choked up. And Tad had been worrying over Derrek even while the kid had to be hurt and angry with his father for not being with him all these years. He might be young, but he could obviously deal with complex emotions on a maturity level way beyond his age. If she ever had a kid, she wanted one like Tad.

  And she wondered why it was so much easier to admit to herself that she could love the boy, but not the man?

  Because she couldn’t have Derrek.

  Yet the more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to know him better. But she coul
dn’t afford to soften.

  She couldn’t allow her emotions to overwhelm her training and her good sense. It mattered not that she had switched sides. If he ever knew what she truly was, he’d consider her a monster. Sweet Vigo, the man had been mind-wiped by her people and lost his family because of Firsts.

  When her emotions got out of hand, as they were right now, she still had to cage her Quait. As much as she wanted to fit in, the fact remained that when Derrek had kissed her, she’d had difficulty confining her Quait. Like a wild animal that had been caged too long, the desire to dominate had pounded for freedom. Just as she’d yearned to see, hear, feel, touch, and smell, she ached to use her Quait.

  The theory that she would become accustomed to doing without her primal sixth sense, that she would become used to the lack of Quait, wasn’t working. Instead, the opposite seemed true. The tighter she caged the beast, the more it wanted out. And yet, strangely, she was becoming even better at confining the beast.

  As frustration at her situation ripped through her, she calmed herself with a breathing exercise. When she again paid attention to the conversation, Derrek and Tad were discussing how to get to Tish, if she’d fight them, and why she’d felt obligated to stay with her mother when she’d obviously wanted to come with them.

  As they walked to Tad’s room, Azsla allowed the conversation to flow around her and soothe her. It had been too long since she’d been part of a family. Too long since she’d belonged anywhere.

  Now that she’d finally found a place she might be able to call home, an asteroid was about to crash into one of Zor’s oceans. And if the flooding and tidal waves didn’t immediately kill those left behind, the flying debris that exploded into space and re-entered would burn all remaining life. She thought of the children playing in the streets, the shopkeepers, the families that had settled on Zor, and felt terrible. Guilty that she would survive.