by Shona Husk
Maybe he had a lover on the ship.
Maybe she should ask him out for a drink, and he could tell her more about Solitaire. She scratched that idea almost immediately. If they started talking, he’d ask questions and she doubted that a man who’d grown up in the elite towers would appreciate what she’d done. No, she’d rather just flirt a little than tell him the truth.
She sighed and turned back to Vance. “What makes you happy?”
Did Vance have a lover in the prison? She didn’t know enough about him to even guess.
He turned and raised one dark eyebrow. His brown eyes were unreadable. “I’m not here to be happy.”
She put the tub down and opened up the next cage. The animals were locked up, just in case anyone felt like helping themselves to a free dinner. It was damn tempting some days. She hadn’t eaten real meat since being arrested and leaving the cattle ranch. The only reason she wasn’t in prison yellows was because her father was a diplomat, and no one wanted that scandal. Instead she’d disappeared—oops—been given this tremendous opportunity.
“I don’t think you believe that. I’ve seen you smile as you feed Satan.” Satan was a particularly evil black goat who’d nibbled Silke’s clothes while she was still wearing them more than once.
“We have an understanding. I sold her my soul.” He grinned.
“Oh, yeah? What did you get in exchange?” She reached in and grabbed the first furry body she could.
“I get to work here.”
Vance, the master of the non-answer. She’d be better off headbutting Satan. “Here you go, you sex this lot.” She handed him the brown wriggly guinea pig.
For a moment he looked a little uncertain. “I don’t want to hurt it.”
“You won’t.” She’d seen him with the animals enough to know he wasn’t going to press too hard. “Just move your fingers a little …” She moved his finger then gave it a little press. “There you go, Madras is a boy.”
“This is Vindaloo.”
“I was testing you.” She took the guinea pig off him and put it in the tub then picked up the portacomp that Vance had been using and updated the record. All the litters were also known by their alphanumeric designation, the number reflecting the father and the letter the mother, but “litter G18” didn’t have the same ring as “Curry”.
His lips curved. He did like working here. This was no random assignment, he’d been the most qualified. And while some people couldn’t understand why she’d want to work with a white, she’d wanted someone who knew what they were doing.
“Are you still working on your degree?”
He nodded. “Got nothing else to do. Not like I can duck out to the beach for a quick swim.”
“How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
“Civvies giving you shit?” She’d seen the other students sneer when they came down. But she’d also been through a lot of test results, and lectured them all … and so far, she was more impressed with Vance. He didn’t complain about doing anything. They did. One guy had even had the gall to suggest leaving the cages and pens dirty for a day so Vance could clean them when he was back from his day off. Vance got one day off every ten. She had no idea what he did on his free day. Probably study.
Leo waved and left the barn. Silke raised her hand. Sometimes he came over to say goodbye, but not today. She was too busy with Vance. Leo would be back, and as always, she’d look forward to it. He was a break in routine.
“I’ve been getting shit from civvies like that my whole life. Tikka, girl.” He placed her back with the other girls. “You should go out with Grady.”
“I don’t think so.” Aside from the fact that Leo would be temporary, as he was flight crew, he was also what she hated. The rich kids in the tower schools had always made her feel unwelcome. She wasn’t one of them and the only reason she’d been there was because of who her father was. It had been the same all her life, even now. It was why she worked so hard to keep the truth quiet. She didn’t want to be known as his daughter, she wanted to be known for who she was. “Not my type.”
Vance snorted. “I was standing right there.”
“It’s not going to happen.” Maybe it could if they just got together and had sex and didn’t try to get to know each other. She didn’t need to learn more about Leo to enjoy screwing him. And she was pretty sure she would enjoy it. There was something in his eyes when he looked at her … but it wasn’t the red-hot desire that she sometimes saw when Vance looked her way.
She’d been holding herself apart from everyone since boarding Siren. Was she going to do that forever? She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life lonely just because she was afraid of what people would say. Until her arrest she’d never cared what people thought. She’d always followed her heart.
But her heart didn’t know what it wanted anymore. Leo or Vance? Safe, sensible, but a man who would break her heart if he found out the truth? Or Vance, the man she shouldn’t want and couldn’t have, but who wouldn’t care?
She glanced at Vance, glad he didn’t know what she was thinking right now. Her cheeks heated anyway.
The corner of Vance’s lips twitched as if he knew what was on her mind. “I’ve been a prisoner longer than I was ever free and I still have twenty to go. You don’t want me. You can do better, Silke.”
He was giving her the brush off?
He picked up a patchy brown and white guinea pig and patted it, keeping his gaze on the animal.
She patted the animal in his hands, then let her fingers drift over his skin. He didn’t pull away. “You’ve thought about it.”
“Of course I have. But I don’t want to lose this position.”
Silke let her hand fall away. She could respect that. At least they’d had the conversation, acknowledged that the attraction existed. Maybe she should burn off some tension with Leo.
Vance caught her hand, the guinea pig still in his other hand. “I’d love nothing more than to pretend we are free to do whatever we want … well, you are. But I’m not. I accepted that years ago because I had to. I can live within my boundaries and be happy. That I get to see you and give the litters stupid names and study—”
“What about love?” She hadn’t meant to ask, but she wanted to know. What people thought about love was often revealing.
“What about it?”
“Don’t you want it?” She did. She liked that feeling when she saw him walk into the barn in the morning. It was lust, but if tended to, it would grow. She knew that. She’d been in love more than once, been burned and also done the burning.
He pressed his lips together. “I was arrested when I was sixteen. I didn’t even know what love was. Lust, yes. But I’m thirty-six now.” He shrugged and looked away, as if reluctant to go on. “I live within my boundaries. If I don’t dream outside of them, then I don’t get bitter about what I don’t have.”
“Glass half-full kind of guy?”
“I guess so.”
How did he live like that? He was only one year older than she was. She’d be trying to climb out of the glass to see what else was out there. Not that she’d been doing much climbing on Siren. No, here she’d been hiding at the bottom of the glass. That wasn’t like her at all.
“I didn’t used to be. I was an angry teen.” His lips moved in a small, sad smile. “You don’t know what it’s like in the slums. And after the earthquake of 2176 it only got worse.”
“I spent half my childhood in the US. And all of my working life there.”
“Which is why you’re here.”
In a roundabout kind of way. “Yeah.”
She didn’t want anyone knowing the real reason she was here. Not because she was ashamed of what she’d done—hell no. She’d helped when no one else would. Unlike the hospitals, she hadn’t charged the poor when they’d needed help. A broken bone was a broken bone. Stitching a wound, assisting a birth … humans were animals, and if she’d refused to help, people would’ve died, or gone into debt that
would financially cripple the family even further.
But someone hadn’t agreed. Someone had told, and her illegal surgery had been reported.
The dollar was more important than people. The ranch she’d worked for had had the nerve to demand payment for all the equipment she’d used when treating their workers. The ones who were too poor to afford proper medical treatment because the ranch didn’t pay well enough.
She wanted to keep her so-called ‘crime’ a secret because there were plenty of people from old tower money on Siren who would make sure she lost everything all over again. She couldn’t go through that. Her work was her life. Right now it was all she had.
Silke sighed. When she glanced up, Vance was looking at her, his dark brown eyes full of lust that he wasn’t bothering to temper.
“Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“What?” she asked cautiously. She didn’t want to push, even though she wanted him. Now the subject had been raised, it couldn’t be reburied.
“Kissing you.”
“It might be terrible.” She knew it wouldn’t be.
“It might be good.” His eyebrows drew together, as though he was weighing up the odds.
“Close your eyes. You’re overthinking things.”
“I like to work out what’s the worst that could happen. If I can live with that, then I take the risk.”
That was a pretty dark way to make decisions. “Worst case scenario?”
“It’s good, we end up having sex, something goes wrong, we fall out, I lose my placement, and some civvie prick gets to work here while I rot.”
So his worst case scenario was that it was good. “You want this to be bad?”
“No. But I can’t live with losing this job.”
She took a step back. “Okay. You do realize that even once we land, in another six months, that prisoner placement is still not guaranteed. You’ll always be waiting for the axe to fall.”
He grimaced. “I try not to think about that. But that’s the only power they have over people like me. I have nothing else they can take.”
That wasn’t true. He had pride, and integrity … she’d love to know what he’d done.
He looked at her for a moment and she could see him thinking through various scenarios and weighing each one. His gaze hardened and he took a step toward her. “Close your eyes,” he murmured.
She did. One heartbeat, two heartbeats.
“It’s just a kiss. I haven’t kissed a woman in twenty years though, so I’m going to be rusty.”
“You been kissing guys?” she said with a smile, intending it as a joke.
“Yep.” His lips brushed hers before she had time to be surprised.
His mouth was hot and soft. After a moment his tongue touched her lip. She opened her mouth a little, wanting more. Needing a touch, and to feel him against her. But the kiss didn’t develop the way it should. Instead, he drew back, and she opened her eyes.
“Not too rusty.” Her voice was a little rougher than it was supposed to be.
Her pulse was fast and the sudden heat in her belly was more intense than she’d expected. He’d kissed like a gentleman on a first date, not like a man who hadn’t kissed a woman in two decades … Yeah, but he’d been kissing. He hadn’t been celibate. That only spiked her curiosity more. Vance was far from the average con, or even the average man.
“Not terrible, either.” There was a hunger in his eyes that made her want to step closer and kiss him again. He looked away. “Not going to happen again.”
She knew that, but it had been nice to pretend for just a few moments.
For the first time since getting on Siren she felt like she was living, instead of just showing up every day and waiting for something to happen. She didn’t like being boxed in and having every part of her life dictated. She couldn’t take Vance as a lover any more than he could wear civilian clothing. She was his boss. And while desire didn’t follow rules, she had to, and so did he. Everyone on this ship was a prisoner, really. Some just had a few more privileges.
Chapter Two
Leo put the crate of knitting supplies on the table. He’d had to sign them out of stores, and any civvie who wanted to keep a set of knitting needles would also have to sign. It was the same for yarn. They had a limited quantity, so any item that wasn’t up to standard got unraveled so the yarn could be reused.
Somewhere there was also a spinning class. He’d learned how to spin and knit on his first trip. He’d also learned three languages and how to play the guitar on his second. At least on this trip there were plenty of classes happening. On his previous supply runs to Research Base Unity it had simply been the crew. There were only so many games of chess that could be played before boredom became a real problem.
It had been one of the scientists who had taught him to knit, along with a few other things. Naomi had been on the base for four years, was nearly twenty years older, and hadn’t taken no for an answer. It had been his most educational flight. They’d got back to Earth and she’d returned to her life without even an email. She might have wounded his heart more than a little. He’d thought they had something; apparently it had just been sex. And knitting.
It had been another reminder that he shouldn’t try to hold onto things. Anything he liked got taken away. He’d forgotten that one simple truth. Since then, he’d been much more careful.
Not only were there classes on this trip, there were also lots of people to talk to. Like Silke Rask, the vet. The manual inspections were something he looked forward to simply so he could see her. He should ask her out for a drink at what passed for the local bar on Siren, but so far it hadn’t come up in conversation, and her assistant, Vance, was always there.
He’d worried about her working with a white, but over the months he’d got to know Vance, and while he didn’t know what the man had done, he seemed like a decent guy. Even if he had refused to wander off so Leo could talk to Silke alone. He knew why Vance hadn’t left. Vance liked Silke too. But from everything Leo had seen there was nothing going on. And there was nothing on either of their files. Not that that meant anything. Plenty of prisoners didn’t do the paperwork after entering into a relationship with a civvie or military personnel. The Army’s “permission to fuck” form wasn’t particularly appealing. No one wanted their sex life documented for scrutiny.
At least he didn’t have to worry about shit like that. There was plenty of other paperwork to fill his time. But he’d volunteered to teach the class as a way to keep busy when he was off duty. Today he was expecting about a dozen people to show up. And he was expecting half of them to scoff at the idea of knitting socks. Most people didn’t seem to grasp the idea that there were no malls or chain stores on Solitaire.
He’d knitted enough socks that he could do it in his sleep. However, when he handed four double-pointed needles to most people they paled, and then looked confused. There were easier ways to knit socks, but on Solitaire, where they would eventually have to make their own everything, a straight stick with pointy ends was going to be easier to make than a circular needle.
People started drifting into the classroom. Some would be willing, others would’ve been told to attend—strangely, not everyone was taking advantage of all the classes on offer. Were they expecting everyone else to do the work while they polished their asses in their new home?
When he wasn’t working, sleeping, or exercising, he was going to any class that would have him. He wasn’t returning to Earth. This was his last trip. Solitaire would be his new home and he wanted to be prepared. There was only one part missing from his plan … a wife.
A couple of lemon drops—regular prisoners in yellow—came in and sat down, an Infantry guard with them. He’d get some needles, too. It was always fun to watch a grunt struggle.
Silke walked in. Leo almost did a double take. She did. She stopped and blinked before looking quickly away and finding a seat in the middle.
Did she like being the center of attention? O
r had she chosen the middle because everyone else was hugging the edges of the room and she didn’t want to be part of the herd?
“Welcome to sock knitting. I’m Captain Leo Grady. You may call me Captain or Grady.” As usual, the class had more women than men … did the guys on Siren think some chick was going to knit their socks for them? Good luck. Women were outnumbered 1:4. Not every man was going to get a wife. Something he was acutely aware of. When he’d decided to leave the military and take the resettlement option instead of going back to Earth, he’d been expecting a better ratio. Even if he discounted the prisoners, the balance was still 1:2 at best.
He made a mental note to talk to the class coordinator about ensuring more male participation.
“Okay, we’re going to be meeting every second day for the next few weeks. Please introduce yourselves, and tell me your preferred name.”
They went around the room. One of the male prisoners hesitated, then gave his number. Leo stopped him. “If you want us to use your name, you have to tell us.”
The man gave his name. Sias. The guard sneered. Every freaking time. What did they feed these jerks? Wanker flakes for breakfast?
“This is a classroom, we are all equal here. You want me to use your surname, Treloar, or did your mama give you a first name?”
“Treloar,” the guard said. He pointed at the lemon drops. “They don’t have names.”
“They don’t have names, Sir,” Leo corrected, pointing to his epaulettes. “And yes, they do.” He turned back to the prisoner. “How long is your sentence?”
“Three years.” The prisoner was looking less than comfortable.
“Listen everyone. In three years, Sias will be one of you, a free settler. Until then he is one of the men who will be doing the hard labor of building your homes and settlement. He deserves a little respect, not eternal condemnation. Whatever he did on Earth, this is his second chance. Treat him like a con and he will act like one. Treat him like he is part of the team and he will be. Up to you.” Leo shrugged. Most people would at least pause to think.