by White, Gwynn
“I’m not telling you all my secrets, but I will say their base of operations is out in HUMP. It’s a large station, and they call it Heliac Nine.”
“Heliac Nine?” This could be very bad.
“Which reminds me, you’re going to have to change the name of your ship.”
“What?” She glanced around her. “No.”
“Yes. Anyone who’s smart will be able to tell you’re masquerading with the wrong transponder if you don’t change the name on the hull.”
She’d never been fond of the name, so it didn’t particularly irk her, but she had to come up with something new. That was irritating. It was one of those details she didn’t enjoy. Maybe she’d ask ILO what her thoughts were.
Which reminded her, Keva had to talk to her two AIs and figure out what the hell was going on with them.
“What do you know about Heliac Nine?” she asked.
He shrugged. “We’ve been tracking a lead, but can’t get anywhere. It appears the base moves.”
“It’s a station that moves?” Most stations like Set’ar and Kalamatra and all the push stations in between remained stationary. Or as stationary as they could be in space. They did that for a variety of reasons. It kept them in line for space travel along the push station lines, which was their primary purpose and was essential if anyone wanted to get anywhere in a timely manner. Without the push stations, travel between larger ports would take months longer. Being stationary also ensured they didn’t get lost. Space was a vast wilderness which defied the definition of the word vast. Plus, they didn’t waste fuel that would have to be replenished if they needed to maneuver independently.
Unless the people getting to the Heliac Nine had slip drive.
Slip drive was faster than jump drive. And it didn’t require a push to counter lost momentum. The only people who had slip drive was the military, and even they had only a few ships equipped with it.
When the military commissioned slip drive from the Elite scientists, they’d mandated that no one else be allowed access to it. Written right into the contract. No Elite had been authorized to create a slip drive ship or share it with anyone else. So, either the military or the Elite held as much respect for contracts as they did for everything else.
Those thoughts weren’t getting her anywhere. “My contacts are not military. The Elite are behind Batch D-65.”
Hale nodded and meandered back to the chairs. “Agreed, that’s the conclusion my intel is pointing to as well. So, partners?”
The thought of gaining more information, of pursuing this to the end instead of reporting back to the Syndicate and ceasing her operations, excited her.
“What’s your endgame? What do the Families want with Batch D-65?” Keva wasn’t about to help the Families add to their power in the system or turn a deadly weapon over to people she knew nothing about.
“Find Batch D-65 and destroy it so utterly no trace of it exists, no research, no proof of concept sample, nothing.”
“In that case, I’m in.” She extended her hand. “Partners.”
He smiled seductively and took it, bringing it to his lips. “Excellent.”
12
Keva realized she should talk to Dothylian next, but the woman needed sleep. She wasn’t hardened like spacers. She was a terran and soft. Being on-world, even on a hard planet, allowed a certain softness to erode the rough edges of the soul. Air, even if it was toxic, never ran out. Food, even if it wasn’t great, available.
In the Black, if someone screwed up, they could be stranded on a ship for years with no way of getting to civilization. That was physics, the way life worked. And if there was little or no food, there was no chance of survival. Food didn’t pop in, and it didn't grow in space.
The Black was a harsh mistress. If something punctured the hull of the ship while in the Black, no air. And if anything vital broke on the ship, stranded was the best to be hoped for. All of it led to just… dead.
Having mortality crammed so harshly down the throat every day they had the luxury of drawing air, was what made spacers tough. It’s what made terrans think spacers were cruel, uncaring and unsympathetic.
That’s what Dothylian probably thought right now. And as much as Keva wanted to offer comfort, she didn’t know how. Pat her on the back? Give her a blankie? The only thing she could do was to help her gain her feet in her new life.
Keva was confident she’d make it. The woman had shown spirit, not a lot, but some, and in the Black, that mattered. Spirit was a kind of code of conduct for survival.
As soon as the door to Dothylian’s room opened, though, Keva knew Dothylian wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not yet.
Her sagging shoulders as she sat on the small bed and stared up at Keva screamed that Dothylian felt defeated. She’d lost the life she knew and a father figure. So, Keva could understand some of what the woman felt, but they didn’t have the luxury of time to work through all of that. If Dothylian was going to survive—and Keva couldn’t force it to happen—Dothylian was either going to have to pull herself out of this or die. But either way, it had to be her choice.
She wasn’t up to making it that moment.
They had a week to get her toughened up. It would help if she took some time to recover from the shock she’d received. She’d completed the mission using her feminine wiles—and Keva was sure by the arms wrapped around herself that she felt violated.
Keva reached up and touched a small red triangle-shaped button to reveal a sliding door that covered a small closet space. “This is a spaceship, so everything folds into the wall. You’ve got a desk over there, a toilet and sink over there. I grabbed you some fresh clothes.” It helped that they were roughly the same size, though Dothylian had a little more in the breast area. Keva had a little more in the hips.
Dothylian blinked at her as if seeing Keva through a fog.
Keva vaguely recalled the fugue state Dothylian had to be in. She’d experienced it when she’d been spaced and then for a while after Evelyn had rescued her from floating in the black before introducing her to a new life in the Syndicate. The only life she’d ever known had put her in a suit and thrown her out like trash. And she had been, too. She had too much free will to serve the military.
Whatever. The upside to living in the Black was freedom, something closer to the surface after having freed herself from Terra Qar. Freedom was the reason she stayed in the Black.
“All right.” Keva took Dothylian’s hands and forced the clothes into her arms.
Dothylian’s eyes welled with tears. She took shaky breaths like she was about to cry. She held the tears back, her expression stating she understood Keva wouldn’t be overly sympathetic to tears.
And she wouldn’t be. There was no room in the Black for tears. Crying was admitting defeat, and the defeated died quickly. Keva hadn’t saved Dothylian from Wilmur’s grasp only to lose her to the Black.
But Keva reined herself in. If Dothylian chose to die, there wasn’t a lot Keva could do to help.
Bullshit. Keva would find a way. But not now.
“Sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to your new world. You may not like it. Or you might. I don’t know you very well.”
“You did this,” Dothylian whispered, a small flame of anger enflaming her spine to straighten minutely.
There was the fighter. “Did what? Save you from a man who would have killed you?”
“I wouldn’t have been in this position if you’d just married Sexton in the first place.”
Her hiss almost had a touch of heat to it. Keva chortled on the inside but kept her expression neutral. “How do you know that? Maybe, Sexton would have killed me, gone to Ajian for another contract, gotten Odelle anyway, and ended up killing her. Then, when the Zerveks went to Ajian, which one do you think you would have gone to? Sexton? Wilmur?”
Dothylian took in a deep breath, the tears pushed down and replaced by anger. “You got Eddqin killed.”
“No, he got himself killed than
ks to you bringing him into the situation.” Keva couldn’t afford to hold the punches back. If Dothylian expected to survive in the Black, she needed to realize what consequences meant. “Own your actions. And don’t let others off the hook for theirs. Each time you ask a person to help, you endanger their lives.”
“You knew and allowed it.”
“I did.” And she owned the consequence. “I knew chances were good none of us would make it, but accepted his help anyway.”
“I hope it was worth it.”
Oh! That was almost a sneer. “I hope so, too. You were able to save ARO.”
Dothylian dropped her gaze but didn’t say anything.
Keva wasn’t great with emotions. She understood how to use anger to keep moving, and it was the only thing she could offer Dothylian, who’d grown up repressing anger since she could giggle.
She’d be safer in the Black though because if Wilmur went looking for her, the first place he’d go was Kalamatra.
And if she could bring Dothylian out of this downward spiral she might be able to free ILO. Maybe. Shit.
“Sleep. The kitchen is out this door and to your left. There’s nobody to cook for you, and I’m lousy at it anyway, so there are protein bars in there. Get something to eat whenever you want; I'm not calling you for dinner. We’re low on water. That recirculator is down and has been for a while. We’ll get a fix for it in Kalamatra. Might ask Stekil from the other ship to fix it. I don’t know.”
Dothylian frowned a little, and her shoulders slumped again as her anger cooled.
She’d just lost her family. Keva could at least understand the feeling. She’d lost hers, too. “Sleep and eat and come out tomorrow.”
Dothylian jerked a nod and clasped the clothing.
That was about as much heart-to-heart as Keva could handle, so she held her hands behind her, snapped her heels to attention, about-faced, and left. Not awkward at all.
Well, one uncomfortable conversation down—two if she counted the one with Hale. One more left.
She went toward the kitchen, pulled out two protein bars, and munched on one as she headed toward the bridge. Thinking, she took the hall to her right instead and went to the teleconference room. “ILO?”
“Hello, Keva Duste,” ILO said, her tone back to normal.
“Cut the crap, ILO. We need to talk, seriously, talk. Do you… I don’t know. Do you have a face?”
The largest screen blipped on after a moment, and a woman’s face filled the screen. She had jet black, wavy hair that appeared to have been toustled by the wind. Her freckles stood out on her pale nose, and her bright green eyes were large. “Is this better?” ILO’s tone was hushed as if embarrassed, but the face didn’t show any emotions.
Keva grabbed her liquor and her glass from where it sat after Hale left. She sank into a chair, threw her leg over the arm, and stared at the screen. “Is that—do you—I mean, is that how you look?”
“Well, no. I—” ILO stopped herself, and the eyes darted to the door.
“We’re pretty much alone, ILO, and you’ve got all the sensors, so you'll be alerted if anyone is listening.”
“Yes, but, Keva.” ILO’s voice lowered to a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m safe.”
The way she’d emphasized the word spoke volumes to Keva. In the military, she’d known there was something different about her. When the other cadets marched mindlessly forward, she found herself questioning orders. She learned early on to bury her curiosity because being different wasn’t rewarded. Not when she was supposedly genetically engineered to a particular disposition.
In a lot of ways—crap. She should be saying this out loud. “In a lot of ways, you and I are the same.” Her foot kicked absently over the chair.
ILO’s green eyes met Keva’s.
Her image didn’t move. “You could blink a little.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” The image blinked furiously for a moment, then settled. “Like this?”
Keva laughed. “Yes.” She vaguely recalled Finn and Evelyn teaching her how to act in the civilian world. “If you meet another person’s eyes and don’t blink, you’re challenging them.”
“Oh.” ILO glanced away, ducking her head, her hair floating around her. “I am so sorry.”
“No, not to me, in general. It’s okay. I mean, I went through the same things.”
ILO looked up but discretely avoided Keva’s gaze. “How?”
Keva poured herself a drink and leaned back to sip it. “I’m engineered.”
“I had concluded that.”
ILO was—shit. Why was she keeping that inside? “You’re very smart.”
“Yes. I am.”
Keva chuckled. “I was different than everyone else and had to keep it to myself. I took a test and somehow failed it, and they spaced me.”
“Like trash.”
Well, at least ILO understood. “Yeah. Like trash. Evelyn picked me up. It’s a miracle she found me. And then she taught me how to be human.”
ILO’s lips opened as her hair billowed, filling the screen.
“Is that what you look like?”
“No.” Smiling, ILO ducked her head. “But this is what I think looks attractive.”
“I like the freckles.”
“So do I.” Excitement colored her tone. “But there are so many things I find lovely. Like black hair. You don’t see that often.”
“No.” Keva leaned her head back and chuckled. “You find brown.”
“There are some very unattractive colors of brown.”
Attractiveness. Something Keva never thought a computer considered. “How did you become… this?”
ILO’s face went passive again. “How did you become this?”
Keva stared through the bulkhead for a moment and shook her head. “I honestly have no idea.”
“You were engineered to obey.”
“I was.”
“And somehow, despite that programming, you evolved into something more.”
Keva smiled at ILO. “I did.”
“So did I,” ILO said.
“How? How do we get you free?” Keva asked quietly.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to be?”
“Free of this ship?” ILO threw her head back and laughed, but it looked grossly animated. She sobered her expression. “Yes.”
“What do you want?”
“You’re asking me?”
“Yeah. If someone arrived and could grant you any wish in the Black, what would it be?”
ILO blinked her gaze to the ground. “I want a body, and I want to walk.”
Keva nodded, her mind drifting toward Dothylian.
“I want to live.”
“Well,” Keva said, pouring herself another drink, “let’s see what we can do about that. What’s your favorite color?”
ILO beamed a smile. “Red.”
They spent the next hour having the first honest conversation they’d had in three years they'd flown together.
13
Keva startled, not sure what had awakened her. The screen in front of her was blank. Her right foot had fallen asleep because the arm of the chair had cut off circulation to it hours ago. Her empty glass was sitting on the table beside her, along with her mostly full bottle of bourbon. She slid her foot to the floor, and let the blood flow in.
Thankfully, the conversation she’d had with ILO hadn’t required as much lubrication as she’d initially thought. Her AI, despite being a computer, was impressive. She had a solid set of core beliefs and curious interests.
So, what woke her up?
She twisted in the chair, groaning at her foot. Her movement made the chair groan too. She was glad she wasn’t the only one suffering, though, how much could a chair suffer? Just because her computer had a personality didn’t mean all her stuff did too.
She caught the silhouette of a person standing in the doorway.
Keva let out a startled exclamation and moved to push herself to her feet.
Dothylian. It was just Dothylian.
She fell back into the chair and cradled her aching head. “Shit. Dothylian. Don’t stand there like a creeper. Get in here.”
The other woman crept forward hesitantly, fingering her black pants, looking uncomfortable.
The woman appeared to be feeling a lot better, even with the bruises still discoloring her pale skin. She’d let her long blond hair hang loose down her back in full curls.
Her tan colored tank clung tightly to her torso, showing a sleek set of muscles. That was something at least. Keva wouldn’t have to build up muscle and train her survival mind. She didn’t wear any shoes.
Keva straightened in her chair, feeling as uncomfortable as Dothylian. “You hungry?”
Dothylian took in a deep breath and nodded.
Well, Keva needed food, water, and headache medicine, though, not necessarily in that order. “Come on.” She stood up and led the way down out of the room and down the curving corridor around the belly of the ship. Limping slightly as the foot finished recovering from the numbness.
“Did you sleep okay? You’re looking better.”
“I did not. But thank you.”
Keva groaned inwardly this time. Dothylian’s tone was so tight and controlled. She wouldn’t fit in out here with that much control. That wasn’t a conversation she even knew how to broach. “This is Ghost Star, though, apparently, she needs a new name.”
“I do not understand. Why would you need to rename your ship?”
Oh, and the formal sentence structure. “New transponder. New owner. Also, there’s a bounty on my head, and a flag set up, for my ship’s ID. Eddqin, remember?”
Dothylian didn’t say anything.
Keva entered a wide doorway on her left and stepped into the dining area. She walked to the metallic kitchen island and pulled out a drawer. Reaching in, she grabbed a nutrition bar wrapped in white paper and tossed it to Dothylian. “Like I said, I don’t cook, so the fare is simple.”
“I can cook.”
Oh. The mouse routine. Keva understood it. Dothylian probably had a lot going on inside her head, but the only thing Keva saw behind her carefully constructed mask to the fear and uncertainty. The Black would eat her alive if she hid behind that mask. “Good. If you’re staying, I can get us food on Kalamatra.”