“Stop. Just stop, okay?” She shrugged out of his embrace, feeling itchy and hyped up. “You guys seriously have to do something. They’re scared and upset, dammit. They need me!”
Tiber walked in wearing nothing but a short-sleeved shirt and mabi pants like the ones Cecine and Hastion wore most evenings. Did that mean Jasmine was here too?
“I’m sorry to interrupt your sleep, Doctor,” Cecine said stiffly, “but Shelley appears to be suffering some sort of hysterical reaction to the twins’ deaths.”
“They’re not dead, and I’m not hysterical,” she said as calmly as she could, considering she was shaking all over. “They’re alive. I can feel them.”
Tiber looked sympathetic. “I understand why you feel this way, Shelley.”
“I’m not in denial,” she said, grinding her teeth. She stepped closer to the desk. “Cecine, these are your children. Your son. Your daughters. You can’t just give up. You have to look for them. I know they’re alive.”
“Did you sleep at all?” Tiber asked her.
“Only an hour,” Hastion said.
“I don’t need more sleep. I can’t sleep now.”
“Then let me administer—”
“No, dammit!” Shelley whirled on him, firing a warning shot with her eyes. “No more sedatives. That’s why I didn’t feel them last night. If I hadn’t let you give me that fucking shot, we could have been looking for them hours ago.”
“Shelley, all the denial in the world won’t bring the children back,” Cecine said. “You must accept that.”
“No, I mustn’t, because they’re not dead. Dammit…” She stormed out of the office, on the verge of tears, her trembling arms wrapped over her waist.
When she heard footfalls behind her, she said, “Don’t even fucking follow me, Hastion. I’m not suicidal. If you want to do something for me, go find my children.”
The footsteps stopped and she went down the stairs and out onto the deck. Standing at the rail, she looked down at the last place she’d seen her babies, wondering how in the hell she was going to get them back.
Everyone thought she was in complete denial. All the evidence pointed toward their being dead, and in those first few nightmarish hours, she’d actually thought they were dead. And yet they weren’t—if they’d died, that critical piece of her would have died with them.
Try explaining that to a bunch of other grieving people.
Dammit, they’re not dead!
“Shelley, don’t say anything, but I haven’t given up. I am searching for them.”
Startled, she looked around and whispered, “Empran?”
“Please reply using only your cerecom. I am violating communication protocols by contacting you directly when you’re in the domain of another server.”
She frowned. Okay, how in the hell was she supposed to do that?
“You just did it. You’ve been sending intermittently since yesterday. Just…think to me.”
“Think to you…”
“Yes! That’s it.”
Shelley blinked. “I thought it would be harder than that.”
“It will be difficult for you to direct your transmissions to a specific party at first. Right now I’m shielding your transmissions so I’m the only one who can receive them.”
Remembering Empran’s greeting, Shelley straightened as excitement pressed her lungs. “Wait, you said you’re searching?”
“I heard what you said, about believing that Kallie and Wyatt are alive.”
“You don’t think I’m crazy too?”
“No, I don’t. In fact, I… Shelley, you must not tell anyone this. Not yet. If you do, I will be deactivated and all hope of finding them will be lost.”
“Of course I won’t! I told you, you’re my friend.”
“Thank you, Shelley. I count you as my friend too. And the way you feel about the twins… I feel the same way about Monica. I believe I would know if she were dead. The environment would be…darker. I would…be lesser, somehow. Part of me would cease to function.”
Shelley digested that for a minute. “Empran, it sounds to me as if you love Monica.”
After a long pause, Empran said, “What does love feel like?”
“Exactly as you described it. When someone you love dies, a part of you dies too.”
“Then I must love her. I cannot imagine an existence without her.”
Both wonder and worry filled Shelley in the same heartbeat. What future was there for love between a computer and a human?
“There is none and I know it,” Empran said flatly. “Sapience protocols require that I be deactivated, and I am fully prepared to submit to such a fate—after I find Monica. If she is alive, if they are all alive as we believe they are, then someone must have taken them.”
Shelley frowned. “But who would do such a thing?”
“Since Monica wasn’t scheduled to board the pod, I must conclude that you and the children were the intended targets of an abduction.”
“What about Tara? She was on there too.”
“Her background files are quite uninteresting and nothing in them suggests anyone would have a reason to take her.”
“Like mine are thrilling?” Shelley winced. “Well, they weren’t before this all happened.”
“The twins are part Narthani, so the odds favor the Narthani being at the root of their disappearance.”
“Shit, I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”
“There are worse possibilities.”
“Thanks.”
“Not that I believe any of those possibilities are as likely as the Narthani,” Empran hurried to add. “I am in the process of hacking Narthan’s central computer system to see if they have developed any technology capable of cloaking a flare-out or a ship’s departure.”
“Okay, but be careful.” Shelley sighed. “Thank you, Empran. I wish I could give you a hug.”
“I feel as if you just did.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Hastion sat on the large circular sofa, feeling drained and hopeless as he watched Shelley stand there at the deck rail. Between her denial and Cecine’s detachment, he was just about at the end of his tether. It didn’t help that he’d hardly slept, and as far as he could tell, Cecine hadn’t slept either. Or eaten. Hastion had just tried to deliver the breakfast tray he’d refused when Yutan tried to leave it earlier, with similar results.
“I have too much to do,” Cecine had muttered without looking away from his holoscreen. “I’ll eat after I’ve finished this address for the upcoming sector summit.”
Dumbfounded, Hastion had said, “Under the circumstances, I believe they’ll excuse you.”
“I will not excuse myself. Now please leave so I may continue my work. I’ve had too many interruptions as it is.”
“What about the twins’ dedication ceremony?”
“If you would be so kind as to make the arrangements…”
“Of course, sir,” he’d said blankly before walking out. How could the minister possibly be so…detached? How could he even function? He’d lost his children, for Peserin’s sake. Three of them. Why wasn’t he screaming and writhing and tearing at his hair the way Hastion felt like doing?
But then, he wasn’t doing any of that either, was he? He was doing what he always did in a crisis, burying his pain as deeply as he could in service to others.
“Hastion, are you all right?”
Jasmine sat down beside him. She had arrived last evening with Shauss and Tiber and remained after they departed with Kellen and Zannen this morning.
He worked up a somber smile. “I’m fine.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I haven’t any appetite.”
“You need to eat something, Hastion.”
Having just said the same thing to the minister, he smiled more genuinely at the irony. “I will, sister. Thank you for your concern.” Then he stood. “But first I need to make arrangements for the children’s dedication ceremony. It takes—”
“Hastion, stop. Just stop.” Jasmine hopped up and grabbed his hand, her eyes welling with tears. “Have you slept at all? Have you let yourself cry for the babies?”
He held himself still as stone. “I can’t.”
“Why not? I’ve hardly stopped crying.”
“Because if I start, I might not be able to stop,” he confessed roughly. “Then where would we be?”
She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You don’t have to do it all alone this time, Hastion,” she whispered against his ear. “I’m here. Let me help you bear it.”
Tears burned in his eyes and he took a panicked step back, but she didn’t let go.
“Jasmine,” he gasped, trying to pry her arms loose. “Please…”
“None of this is your fault.”
A sob tore from his throat. And then another. Grief knocked his knees from under him and Jasmine followed him down awkwardly, holding him while he wept.
“We were supposed to protect them,” he choked out. “They were supposed to be safe here with us.”
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated firmly.
He wept for what felt like hours as they knelt there on the floor, but finally the well of tears ran dry. Then he almost regretted the loss of them, for it felt as though they’d lubricated the pain. Now that he’d shed them, the edge of grief was sharper, more jagged.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know how much you loved them.”
“I feel…useless.”
She backed away enough to look at him, but didn’t let him go. “Oh, Hastion, we all do when something like this happens. But it’s not true.”
“How can I face Shelley? We’ve given her nothing but grief and pain.”
“She loves you, and I know for a fact you’ve given her a lot more than that.”
He focused on her then. “I’m sorry, Jasmine.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do. I avoided you for months because I was…jealous.” He sighed deeply. “You were so perfect, and I was so far from it…”
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus, why does everyone think I’m perfect? I hate that.”
“I don’t mean perfect.” He frowned. “You’re actually very much like me, but the same attributes that are admired in females are frowned upon in males.”
“You mean being submissive and a servant at heart.”
He nodded.
“There are people who love you and understand you and value you for who you are,” she said. “Who cares what everyone else thinks?”
“When those who don’t are your father and your primary mate, it’s rather difficult to accept.”
Jasmine frowned. “Well I can’t speak for Minister Cecine, but your father is very proud of you, Hastion.” When he raised a skeptical brow, she insisted, “Really. I’ve visited him a couple of times and he told me all about how you took care of everyone when the biowar virus came through. He said you coped with it all alone because he felt too decimated and helpless to be of use. If anything, I think he feels unworthy of you.”
“He sent me away.”
“Yes, I know. He thought he’d failed you completely. Typical paternal reaction to perceived gayness in a son. But times have changed, and now he thinks you were just ahead of your time—which you were,” she added with a little smile. “So yeah, he may have a little difficulty relating to you, but he accepts you and loves you and is proud of you all the same. Never doubt it.”
He took a deep cleansing breath. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Hey, that’s what sisters are for.”
He smiled and hugged her tightly. “You’ll forgive me for avoiding you?”
“As long as you promise never to do it again.”
“I promise.”
“Now will you eat some breakfast?”
He stood up and offered her a hand. “If you insist.”
Shelley walked into the dining room, still trembling, but this time with excitement and nerves. Hastion was at the table with Jasmine. He stood up and kissed her temple. “Are you all right, Shelley?”
Sliding her hand into his, she nodded, her heart pounding. She was taking a very big risk, the biggest of her life, and so was Empran. She couldn’t afford to screw this up. “I’m fine, but can we find someplace to talk? There’s something I need to tell you.”
Jasmine jumped up from her seat. “I’ll just go check on the minister and see if there’s anything he needs.”
“Thanks, Jasmine,” Shelley said with a grateful smile.
Hastion let her lead him to the couch and continued to hold her hand when they sat.
Taking an unsteady breath, she plunged in. “Okay, first I need you to promise that you’ll listen with an open mind and not go spouting off deactivation codes.”
Hastion frowned. “Deactivation codes?”
“Empran has some very important information that she got through, um…dubious means, and she knows it might cause her to be deactivated, but she feels it’s vital that we know.”
“When did you start communicating with Empran?”
“Today, but that’s not the issue here. Please, just promise me.”
Though he looked wary, he nodded. “All right, I promise I’ll listen carefully.”
“Okay, thank you.” She took another deep breath and plowed ahead. “Empran has proof that Monica and the kids might be alive.”
Hastion jerked, his eyes going wide. “By all the Powers! What sort of proof?”
“I have detected an anomalous reading on sensors at the Boroulia portal.”
“Why are you monitoring the Boroulia sensors?”
Shelley was startled to hear Hastion’s reply in her head. Empran must have opened her cerecom to his transmissions too. Under other circumstances, the idea of a three-way with Hastion and Empran would have had her in stitches.
“I’ve been searching for Monica and the twins. I have reason to believe they were abducted by Narthani.”
He frowned. “What reason?”
Empran was silent.
“Empran, why do you believe they are alive?” he insisted.
“It’s…complicated.”
He scowled at Shelley. “That sounds like something Monica would say.” Then he went back to the cerecom. “Explain, Empran.”
“I mean there is no evidence per se.”
“Then why do you search for them?”
“Because I know Monica is alive.”
Unease blossomed on his face and Shelley fought down her rising panic. “Hastion, don’t do anything,” she ordered. “Please. Just listen. And Empran, get to the point before he shuts you down.”
It was Hastion’s turn to look startled. Obviously he could hear her too.
“Sensors detected a momentary distortion in the starfield at the time of the pod explosion. The same distortion has occurred twenty-three times since at regular intervals, moving in a tactical-evasion pattern that originated at your current coordinates.”
“By all the Powers…” He sat forward on the sofa. “Have the Narthani developed cloaking technology?”
“Officially, no. However, my research into Narthani classified files reveals experiments with cloaking systems beginning thirty-two years ago. It is reasonable to assume there is a prototype by now.”
“Mother of Peserin, they could be alive.”
“I told you!” Shelley vibrated with excitement. “Let’s go after them.”
Hastion grimaced. “It isn’t as easy as jumping in a taxi and yelling ‘Follow that car,’ Shelley. We’ll need an interstellar ship, ideally one with flare jumping capability. A vessel like the Heptoral.”
“Cecine is the commander of everything, isn’t he? Can’t he authorize it?”
“Shelley…” he turned toward the stairs, gazing at the upper level as if he could see Cecine up there, “…what if Empran is wrong? What if the distortion has nothing to do with the twins?”
“Don’t even think that. The
y’re alive. I know it.”
“I know you do, but the minister won’t be so easy to convince. He might just deactivate Empran and then we’d have no way to pursue them.”
“Then Kellen.”
“The commander isn’t in any condition to think rationally or make plans beyond Monica’s dedication ceremony. I’ll have to take the ship myself.”
“What about Shauss? You’re pretty good friends with him, aren’t you?”
Hastion shook his head. “Even if he would, I won’t put him in the position of having to risk his military career.”
“But—”
“No, Shelley. It’s my responsibility.”
“You think you can just hot-wire the Heptoral and drive away without help from anyone?” she asked with wide eyes.
“Most of the crew is planetside while refitting is underway. I think I could do it with Empran’s assistance.”
“I will provide any orders required to send the Heptoral after Monica and the babies,” Empran said at once. “Once you’re aboard, I’ll sever communications so that no one outside the ship can deactivate me. Your career will not be in jeopardy, Hastion, if I give you falsified orders.”
“But you will be in jeopardy, Empran. This will be a suicide mission for you.”
Shelley’s eyes filled but she didn’t speak. God, how could a computer be such a selfless, unfailing friend?
“I am aware of that,” Empran replied serenely. “If Monica and the babies are alive, being deactivated will be a small price to pay for getting them back. If they’re not, I would just as soon not have to live with the pain.”
After a moment, Hastion nodded. “Then let’s not delay another second.”
So he’d finally driven them away.
Cecine watched with burning eyes as the pod flew off, finally allowing himself a deep, painful breath. Hastion had come into the office long enough to inform him that the twins’ dedication ceremony would be performed on Ryola, at his father’s house, and that he and Shelley would be departing immediately.
“Do as you wish,” Cecine had said without even looking up. He had no intention of ever viewing their memorial plates, or Monica’s, no matter where they were laid.
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