The Defiant

by C. Gockel

  “We’re being boarded,” the jittery Guardsman said.

  Charisse’s husband said, “The captain would have informed us if there was a scheduled rendezvous with another ship. We’re still at lightspeed.”

  “And a rendezvous at lightspeed is dangerous,” the jittery Guardsman said.

  “Pirates,” said one of the other Guardsmen, jumping up out of his seat.

  “Not here,” said Charisse’s husband. “This is the safest route in the whole system. The Southeast Highway on Luddeccea isn’t as safe.”

  Seeming as though he hadn’t heard him, the jittery one said, “The captain should have said something by now.”

  “Maybe he can’t,” said one of the Guardsmen.

  Alexis remembered the captain saying of the Guardsmen, “We don’t want them on this trip.” Her stomach sank and her blood went cold.

  The jittery one bellowed, “Everyone up now!”

  Charisse and her husband hesitated.

  “Listen to him,” Alexis said, her voice strangely level. To the Guardsmen, she said, “Help them with the children.” She heard them doing so as she unfastened her own seatbelt—or tried. Markus was in his sling, and she was having trouble reaching around it.

  Charisse handed her baby to one of the guards, her husband was up, and Alexis was still stuck. “Ma’am,” said the jittery Guardsman, holding out his arms. She pulled Markus from his sling and handed him to the Guardsman, and saw Charisse hesitating in the doorway. “Go!” Alexis commanded the other woman. Looking up at her bags, Charisse said, “Should we take—”

  “No!” Alexis and the jittery Guardsman said with the same breath.

  Charisse left the cabin, and Alexis finally got her safety harness unlatched.

  The Guardsman was at the door, Markus in his arms. “Go, go, go!” Alexis said, springing to her feet.

  Not releasing Markus, he did as she asked, exiting through the narrow doorway. She wanted to rip Markus from the man’s arms, but also felt the press of time as though it were gravity pushing her into the deck. The man was young and stronger than her. Her baby was safer in his arms. In the hallway, she heard the cry of Charisse’s girls, and Charisse’s husband say, “Is this really necessary?”

  But a dark cold certainty was building in Alexis that there was no mistake. And also, “If there are pirates, the captain may be with them,” she said, keeping her voice low.

  Jittery Guardsman’s head snapped to her, and for the first time, he looked worried. “He didn’t want you aboard,” Alexis said, sweeping down the hallway, ignoring the pain jumping out of the seat had cost her. Behind them was an airlock door, and beyond that, the bridge. In front of them was mechanicals and storage as far as she knew, and a descending flight of stairs the others were currently disappearing down. A Guardsman who’d been waiting for them in the hallway shut the door behind them and took a position at the rear. She spoke quietly to Jittery and to the last man. “It is nearly impossible for a ship to rendezvous with another at near lightspeed without careful planning. The courses would have to be carefully aligned.”

  “But, ma’am—” the Guardsman started to say.

  “He was angry that you’d be here,” Alexis murmured, the pieces all falling together in her mind.

  If he had any more protests, he kept them to himself. “There is an escape shuttle this way,” he said instead. They reached the stairs; they were steep and made of wire mesh. “It’s cramped, but it will be enough. And Jackson’s a decent pilot. As soon as we open the latch though—”

  An alarm sounded before they were halfway down the stairs.

  “—an alarm will sound.”

  Alexis’s ears popped, and she heard a whoosh behind them. Nearly at the bottom of the steps, she looked back and up and saw the captain, his hands behind his back as though they were tied and men in mismatched clothing. They had pistols.

  “What are you doing?” screamed the captain.

  Alexis ran down the last stairs, the man behind her helping her when she stumbled. Jittery was leaning over Markus, now starting to wail, shouting to another Guardsman down the hall standing outside of an airlock door. “Pirates! Go! Go! Go!”

  The man jumped through the airlock and out of view. Alexis, Jittery, and the last man raced down the hall to join him. The last man was helping Alexis along. The man holding Markus paused and looked back. She repeated the order he’d just given the others, “Go!” Take him, protect him, she had no breath to say.

  She heard boots pounding on the mesh stairway. She could see the frightened faces of Charisse’s children already inside. The man with his arm around her back was pushing her forward faster than her legs could ever go without him. She was slowing him down, and she sneered at her own helplessness.

  “It’s locked down. They need the manual release,” she heard the captain say just before she heard the firing of stunners and felt a fizzle of static like tiny pinpricks.

  “Hurry, ma’am,” cried the man who held Markus, standing in the shuttle but holding out an arm, keeping the airlock open.

  Sparks erupted at the side of the airlock door between her and the shuttle.

  Her heart was pounding in her ears, or maybe it was her breathing she heard, louder than the shouting behind her. But she also heard Alaric say, “A stunner can disable electronics,” and saw the control panel inside the shuttle. She also heard her own mind reminding her a stunner could kill a baby or small child. And she remembered the captain’s voice. “They need the manual release.”

  There was more stunner fire, and the man behind her slumped forward. The man holding Markus ducked out of the narrow shuttle doorway, calling for her to get aboard. But she saw the red bar of a handle beside the airlock and read the words above it. Manual Release. With a cry of rage, she threw herself at the handle, yanking it down with all her might.

  The airlock to the shuttle door whooshed shut. There was a small circular window between her and Jittery on the other side. His eyes were wide and shocked. And then he was pulling away—or the shuttle was pulling away. Someone grabbed Alexis’s right arm, but with her left hand she waved through the glass. Understanding, Jittery held Markus up for her, and she mouthed, “Thank you.”

  There was a bright flash of light from the shuttle’s small engines, and it vanished into the gray light of the Big Bang. She knew about the Big Bang from reading to Sam and Lucas.

  Whoever was behind her yanked her around. She spit directly into his face and smiled just before red hot pinpricks seared her abdomen and the world went dark.

  23

  The Visitor

  Planet Luddeccea

  6T9 came out of power save mode to the sound of Volka throwing up. He yanked his power cord from the wall, smoothed his synth skin over his outlet, and jumped out of bed. He was halfway to her door before he stopped himself and checked his chronometer. It was 2:17 AM, the morning after he and Volka returned from Hotel No Weere. Volka had seen the doctor and then gone to bed. This could be a normal experience in the season.

  He turned around, walked back to his room, stopped, turned around again, and walked back to Volka’s door. She could have picked up a stomach virus, an amoeba, or a bacterium in No Weere. He heard her throw up again and would have broken down the door, but it swung open on its own. Inside was only darkness. A squeak from his feet made him look down. Carl’s body began to shimmy. Blinking, 6T9 recognized sign language. “Doctor says nausea can be a side effect of hormonal birth control. Is it supposed to be this bad?”

  Volka wasn’t taking birth control to prevent pregnancy; she was using it to suppress her cycle—just as many human women did. But Volka wasn’t entirely human, and 6T9 shook his head helplessly. There was no data for weere on birth control.

  Hearing coughing in the bathroom, 6T9 headed in that direction. Carl dashed ahead of him, and when 6T9 arrived, the little animal was awkwardly trying to put a cup in the sink. Volka was bowed over a toilet, looking incredibly small and fragile.

  Swallow
ing, 6T9 knocked on the doorframe. “Volka, may I come in?”

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sure. I don’t want to have sex anymore.” Her voice echoed from the toilet in a low mutter. “Maybe never again.”

  6T9 went to the sink and helped Carl fill the cup.

  Rising, Volka took it in a shaky hand. Her ears were back, and she didn’t meet his eyes. She took a sip, and then blurted, “I’m so sorry, Sixty. For everything.”

  His fingers twitched at his sides, and he put them behind his back. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  Shaking her head, Volka said, “If not for…that…” Her face flushed, and her ears folded. He didn’t have to ask what that meant. “Then for making you run all the way home for no good reason.”

  She sounded annoyed, and his lips twitched. When they arrived home, Carl was able to get in touch with Solomon. Captain Darmadi was upset because his wife had gone to visit her mother. “Think nothing of it.” Static flared under 6T9’s skin. And think nothing of the captain. Darmadi brought her nothing but emotional pain. It was a logical wish.

  On the edge of the sink, Carl squeaked.

  Volka said, “Carl says I should go back to bed.” Yawning, she covered her mouth but didn’t move. The dim light made her eyes shine like a wolf’s. “I’m so glad it was you who was with me, Sixty.”

  The thought of someone else being with her sent a jolt through his spine. 6T9 took a step toward her, arms rising. She ducked her head and stepped toward him in answer. He pulled her close and touched the top of her head with his chin. He could feel the tiny bones of her spine beneath his hand, the muscles in her back, the softness of her side. The moment felt as heavy as the kiss in the trees. Heavier.

  Bobbing on the sink, Carl hissed.

  From the hallway outside her room came the sound of boots and quieter footfalls. The steps stopped at Volka’s door. “Is she in?” the voice of one of the Marines said.

  Volka pulled away from him. Ears perked, she left the bathroom. “I’m here,” she said.

  6T9 had left the door open, and the hallway light was on. It silhouetted Volka’s slender frame and the figures of the ambassador and one of the Marines just outside. The light behind them made their expressions unreadable, but the ambassador’s voice sounded ominous when he said, “Volka, you have a visitor.”

  Carl’s necklace hissed, crackled, and then erupted with the werfle’s voice. “No. Absolutely not. Make him go away!”

  The Marine clapped a hand to his neural port. 6T9’s ethernet surged. “Carl, what did you do?” 6T9 asked, wary and worried.

  “I blew up a transformer in the van parked across the street where the jammer is located!” Carl hissed. “You have a problem with that?”

  Relieved the little beast hadn’t exploded the coronary artery of the human operating the jammer, 6T9 said, “Actually, no. Why didn’t you do it before?”

  “Because I wasn’t mad before!” Carl hissed. “Volka has to go to bed. The answer is no, Ambassador. No! No! No!”

  Starcrest massaged the bridge of his nose. “I suppose that you already know what he wants.”

  “Of course I do!” Carl snapped.

  “Who is he?” Sixty asked.

  The Marine said, “A Darmadi guy.”

  Volka hurried past the two men. They and Carl followed on her heels. 6T9 wanted to follow, but the world was shaking. He put his hand on the doorframe and realized the world wasn’t shaking. It was just him. He wanted…he wanted…

  …To think the thoughts that were at the edge of his consciousness. Thoughts that were denied to him.

  At that revelation, his body stopped jerking, and he raced down the hall.

  “I thought we weren’t allowed single visitors.” Volka’s stomach was still queasy, and she snapped the words.

  “This one got special permission,” said the Marine as they headed down the stairs.

  She growled. Was Alaric here because he was in a spat with his wife? She reached the bottom of the stairs, caught the scent of the visitor, and realized the question was moot. The ambassador stepped around her, saying, “He’s in the East reception room.”

  Carl hissed, “I’m going to bite him,” and tried to follow, but Volka stepped on his tail. Twisting toward Volka, he hissed again. Scooping him up, Volka hissed back. “You will not be biting anyone.”

  Carl bared his fangs. Volka growled at him, and then Carl was gone. She blinked.

  Holding Carl by the scruff of the neck, Sixty said, “Carl, no!” Carl promptly bit him. It was a bite that could have killed Volka; 6T9 just rolled his eyes.

  “Sorry, had to do something with my aggression,” Carl muttered. Still dangling by the scruff of his neck, he crossed four little arms and glared at Volka. “Actually, I’m not sorry. You shouldn’t give him the time of day, Volka!”

  From the East reception room, Volka heard the ambassador’s murmured words and smelled brewing tea. She stepped in and drew to a halt.

  “Volka,” said Mr. Darmadi, Alaric’s uncle and Volka’s former employer, bolting up from a chair.

  Volka put a hand to her throat. He’d aged so much. His hair was whiter, the lines in his forehead were deeper, and he stooped slightly. Her heart fell to see him so. Mr. Darmadi had sometimes been her tormentor. He’d been demanding and a perfectionist both with the upkeep of his house and in the studio. He’d also paid her well—for a human or a weere—and taught her everything she knew about painting. That he’d given her a chance to paint was extraordinary. He’d ventured into No Weere for both her parents’ funerals. He’d allowed her mother to tote Volka along to work, even taking Volka with him when he traveled with her mother so Volka didn’t have to stay at home alone after her father died. And then he’d applied for her to go with him on his business trip to the Luddeccea System’s fourth planet, Libertas. Her life would have been much different if he’d been a different sort of man. She’d repaid him by stunning him aboard the Leetier on the way to Libertas.

  “I didn’t want to shoot you,” she blurted. She hadn’t wanted him to be accused of being in league with her.

  Standing next to Mr. Darmadi, the ambassador scowled and glanced quickly between them both.

  Mr. Darmadi bowed his head. “I think I knew that.”

  Volka swallowed and approached him. The ambassador nodded once, as though confirming there would not be physical violence between them, and said, “I will let you catch up.”

  “Thank you,” said Mr. Darmadi.

  He left, and Mr. Darmadi’s gaze went behind Volka’s shoulders. Her ears twitched, and Mr. Darmadi said, “Mr. Niano.” It was the name Sixty had gone by when he’d briefly played chef at the Darmadi residence.

  “Hello again,” said Sixty tightly, coming in behind her. He held Carl in his arms.

  Carl hissed, and Mr. Darmadi drew back.

  The werfle’s necklace erupted in static, and then his voice filled the room. “You have no right to ask this of her! No right at all.” Sixty smacked a hand over the necklace. Carl hissed and bit him again. Sixty winced but didn’t let the werfle’s neck—or necklace—go. Carl’s tail swished wildly, and he growled, hissed, and spit.

  Mr. Darmadi took a step back. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “He’s right. I have no right.”

  Carl’s fit stopped.

  Volka’s ears perked.

  Wiping his forehead, Mr. Darmadi said, “May I sit down?”

  Volka nodded, and he slumped back into his chair. His fingers gripped the armrests tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

  Volka took a seat in the chair across from him. Sixty took the last seat with Carl.

  Wiping his face, Mr. Darmadi took a deep breath. “Alexis, Alaric’s wife, has been kidnapped by pirates.”

  For a moment, perhaps because the words were so preposterous and so unexpected, Volka couldn’t understand them. And then her lip curled, and she said to Carl, “I thought you said she only went to visit her mother.”

  “Her mother is
on New Fargo,” Carl responded, glaring at Mr. Darmadi.

  Worried gaze flicking to the werfle, and then back to Volka, Mr. Darmadi continued. “Alaric is out of his mind with worry.”

  “Not our problem,” said Carl, his fur rising.

  Volka sat up straighter. For once, she agreed with Carl.

  Putting his hands together, Mr. Darmadi leaned forward in his chair. “Alaric’s aboard the Merkabah now, personally supervising the repairs, but even when the repairs are done, it won’t help her. New Fargo was attacked by pirates not long after her transport vessel was intercepted. The colony is still under siege. The Merkabah will be dispatched there.” He bowed his head. “There are thirty thousand people who live in the New Fargo base. Alexis is only one person, and her location is unknown. She will be the Guard’s last priority, and no matter what Alaric feels, he will not forsake his duty.” He took a deep breath. “As you’ve noticed, he never does.”

  Volka’s nails bit into the arm rest.

  On Sixty’s lap, Carl hissed, and his necklace crackled. “It’s a very sad story, but it’s not our problem.” It was what Volka wanted to say but couldn’t. Her stomach reeled from the effort of squelching her feelings—or from the hormonal suppressants, she wasn’t sure.

  “No,” Mr. Darmadi said. “But you are my only hope, and I thought…well…Please, Volka.” He raised his eyes. “Please, I’m begging you.”

  Volka’s skin heated. Years of rage began bubbling up. “You want me to rescue Alaric’s wife? The woman who replaced me?”

  They never talked about her time with Alaric, but she knew he’d known. He didn’t show any surprise at her words, or that she would talk about it in front of Sixty.

  Shrugging, he whispered, “There is no reason why you would, I know.” He wiped his eyes. “But she is my friend and the mother of three beautiful boys.”

  It was as though he’d slapped her. All Volka’s babies had died inside her, and why Alaric had married Alexis while offering Volka only the status of his weere, his whore. “I cannot be a mother, so I am not worth saving.”