“He’ll be okay,” Chase murmured, pulling Danny into a hug. “Danny, he’ll be okay.”
Danny hooked his arms over Chase’s shoulders, and broke down in tears, crying for Corey and Tray. Keeping Danny firmly in his embrace, Chase opened the locker, and pulled out Corey’s coat.
“Here,” he whispered, offering it to Danny. “Don’t look so surprised. I pay attention.”
Danny ran his fingers over the heavy wool, but he put the coat back and closed the locker.
“I’ll be all right if I just sit here with you,” Danny said, taking a deep breath, and sinking onto the floor under the air vent.
“I’m not just sitting. I’m constructing scale models of that lunar rover thing,” Chase said, bumping Danny with his knee. “Virtually, of course. Don’t have a workshop on the ship yet.”
“You didn’t ask for one,” Danny smirked.
“Are you going back to the hospital?” Chase asked.
“I don’t know,” Danny sighed. There was just as much to worry about here as there. Amanda was out of her mind.
“You could take the Bobsled. See how it flies in lunar gravity,” Chase suggested.
“I would feel better if our escape plan didn’t hinge on Tray being able to run,” Danny agreed. He didn’t want to let go of Chase.
“So you’re going?”
Danny shrugged. “I don’t want Sky stealing my ship.”
Chase chuckled, then sobered at the very real possibility of Sky taking off again.
“We can’t let Sky find us like this,” Danny said, trying to lighten the gloom.
“She’ll want to join in,” Chase nodded and laughed. Danny laughed, too.
Colonel Rhodes felt the thrill of vengeance, having General Solvere suffer a taste of her own medicine. His reign would be different from hers. He wouldn’t assault civilians or threaten the families of his officers. Not much. The few beers he’d had to celebrate were doing double-duty, because he kept flashing back to his session with Solvere. It wasn’t the snap of her bones that bothered him; it was her dire warning to get his family out of Parker’s reach. He’d been a part of the assault on Santos’ wife, and he knew exactly which soldiers would turn on him if they had orders. He needed to secure their loyalty and eliminate the threat of Parker, which meant he drank alone now.
“Excuse me!” a woman called, intercepting him on his way through the spaceport office. She stopped when she recognized Rhodes. “Sorry, Colonel. Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”
Rhodes wasn’t in uniform, and he didn’t imagine he looked well, sweating through his off-white t-shirt and stumbling drunkenly through the security pass. Squaring his shoulders, he narrowed his eyes at the young port worker. She was in a suit, suggesting she was a clerical worker, and she didn’t look strong enough to be acting as a bouncer. Don’t threaten the Nationals. Santos had proven himself a reasonable informant without Rhodes having to levy a threat. Force wasn’t required when fear was present.
“Medical dispatch?” Rhodes asked. “I need, um, Benedict James.”
The young lady pointed down the hall where the medic in question was already peeking out at him.
“Hello, sir,” Benedict said, coming out to meet him. “What can I do for you?”
“You examined Damien Coro. I have a few questions,” Rhodes said gruffly, putting one hand on the wall to steady himself.
Benedict looked uncertainly from Rhodes to the dispatch officer. “I verified health and vaccinations. He’s not a danger to the environment, and the shipboard doctor provided adequate supervision for his neck injury.”
“I need something a little more specific,” Rhodes pressed.
“I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to discuss my patients. The crew is not a threat to national health, and that is all I can report,” he said. The speech was well-practiced, and legally sound.
“Interesting choice of word—liberty,” Rhodes said cuttingly.
Benedict’s hand went to the pulse point on Rhodes’ neck. “Heavy sweating, high heart rate,” he murmured. “Are you sick? Maybe you should come into the exam room.”
Rhodes swatted Benedict’s hand and growled.
“I insist, sir,” Benedict said, his gaze flickering toward the dispatch officer.
Realizing they would get more accomplished in private, Rhodes grudgingly agreed. It would probably help if the medic shot him full of Detox.
The exam room was essentially a closet with a chair. Most of the room was packed with gurneys, stretchers, oxygen packs, and emergency supplies. As soon as the door closed, Benedict’s entire demeanor changed.
“What do you need to know, Colonel?” Benedict asked. He cowered against the wall, eyes downcast.
“So formal,” Rhodes chuckled drunkenly, falling into the chair and sprawling. “If I wanted you to be frightened, I would have summoned you to my office.”
Benedict didn’t answer and Rhodes delighted in the fear he smelled.
“You examined all six crew members?” Rhodes asked directly.
“Yes, sir,” Benedict replied.
“And there were only six?”
“And Mr. Coro, sir. It’s standard to do a sweep for stowaways, and I found none.”
Rhodes hummed thoughtfully, then stopped because the noise hurt his head. Santos had said Sikorsky came on this ship, and maybe drunk investigating wasn’t his forte, but someone had doctored his surveillance and hacked the gates to get to Sky.
“When you went back with the ambulance crew, you still only saw the six?” he asked.
“Mr. Santos was there. And one other,” Benedict said. “She spoke Terranan. I figured she was local.”
“What did she look like?”
“Light skin. Brown hair. Average height, hourglass shape,” Benedict said. “She wasn’t a doctor, but she knew her way around the infirmary. She left once my team was up to speed, and I was too focused on Mr. Matthews to pry.”
“I heard a rumor they were traveling with a crime boss named Sikorsky,” Rhodes said, bringing up a picture of the man. Benedict took it and studied hard, willing himself to be of service, but Rhodes could tell there wasn’t the slightest hint of recognition.
“I didn’t see him,” Benedict said.
“If you get on board again, look for him,” Rhodes said. He pulled open the door, flinching when it swung open too quickly.
“Are they dangerous, sir?” Benedict asked.
Rhodes turned. “You were there when Matthews shot me.”
Benedict looked down at his hands, his mouth hanging open. Shifting foot to foot, the young man started to ramble. “I don’t want you to think me disloyal, sir. I won’t tell them about your coming, but I had intended to meet with one of them later. Hawk. Is he dangerous?”
“No,” Rhodes said, smiling at the opportunity unfolding before him. “Coro has been involved with illegal activity, but until he leaves the ship, I can’t touch him. Legally speaking. But if you learn anything else—if Mr. Hawk says anything about the guest—”
“I’ll let you know,” Benedict said.
“Thank you, citizen,” Rhodes smirked. He did not terrorize his citizens in their workplace. He was not like Solvere. He was better than her.
19
Morning found Diana Solvere curled up on the damp floor of her old rowhouse in the slums of the 2. Her lips were parched and her stomach growling. The barrel of her favorite pulse rifle rested inches from her face, and her finger twitched on the trigger. As soon as she’d made it home, she’d stripped out of her Guard uniform and vaporized it. Then she’d vaporized everything else that reminded her of her time in military service. It was better to live in disgrace than to submit to Rhodes.
Diana had a reputation for being a sadist, but even she hadn’t had the stomach to use gravity torture more than a handful of times. She had two broken ribs and a fractured clavicle, but there was no doctor she would go to. The dust of her vaporized uniform left a burnt smell in the air, making her cough as it settl
ed to the floor. One of her angry pulse rifle blasts had hit a pipe in the kitchen, and a layer of water covered the floor, soaked up by the antique red carpet. She’d cut off the water supply, but there was no point in fixing the pipe. She was ready to die, and she was going to do it here, in a place that was hers alone. The place Parker didn’t want her to be.
There was a knock at the door, and Diana’s fist closed. She clamped her arm against her torso, stabilizing her ribs and clavicle so that she could sit up, but nearly passed out from the pain.
The front door opened, letting in the dim light from outside. Deivon Parker peered into the house, frowning disdainfully at the mess. He wore a polished, silver suit, and everything about him was clean and expensive. There was a healthy glow to his skin, and he chuckled pompously when he noticed her on the wet carpet. Rhodes said that Deivon had laughed at the mention of putting her in a grav-chamber. Her lover had laughed.
Raising her pulse rifle, she steadied her arm, and shot him. He flew backward, hitting a table, and shattering the moon-glass figurines displayed on it. The recoil from her weapon, slight though it was, sent a stabbing pain through her shoulder. She laid on the floor, crying, looking at Deivon’s crumpled body, wondering how she’d lost his love this time.
Deivon’s torso quaked, and he laughed maniacally. Brushing the dust and broken moon-glass off of his suit, he got to his feet. Diana couldn’t believe it. She’d shot to kill!
“I figured you’d be angry with me,” he said, thumping his chest to indicate that he wore armor beneath. With a bright smile, he squatted next to Diana and plucked the pulse rifle from her fingers. “Come on, dear. Rhodes has worshiped you from the day he met you. I didn’t think he’d go that far,” he said, laughing like she’d been the victim of a prank. “Frankly, I thought you’d be able to take more than you did. I’m a little disappointed.”
Screaming with rage, Diana lunged forward, closing her hands over his throat. She was weak on one side, but she managed to knock him off his feet and climb on top of him. His face turned bright red and he gagged, but then he clamped a hand over her broken clavicle, and squeezed. Diana screamed, not letting go until she was about to lose consciousness. He caught her head and cradled her gently, laying her prone on the floor. His thumb caught the tears in her eyes, and then he gingerly lifted her shirt.
“Get off me,” she moaned.
“Hold still, Diana,” he carped, batting away her flailing hands. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a six-inch black rod and waved it over her torso. The pain in her chest subsided, and for the first time in hours, she could take a breath without feeling like she was going to die.
“What is that thing?” Diana asked.
“It was in Sky’s satchel.” The smug look on his face radiated arrogance, and he pulled her shirt aside, putting a heat wrap on her clavicle, but giving her a pinch to make her hiss.
“That’s better,” he said. “Now, let’s get out of this disgusting hole.”
“I’m not going back to your bed,” Diana said, turning her head to the side. Cold water squelched from the rug. The dust in the air stung her lungs, but she would gladly choke on it.
Smirking, Deivon yanked her jaw, forcing her to face him. He kissed her hard, and she jerked back, spitting in his face. Deivon cackled, like he enjoyed it.
“Galen will heal you if you stay with me,” he offered. Standing abruptly, he wiped the stains from his suit, and shook the water off his shoes. “Find me later. Don’t wait too long. If I get bored, I may have to find a new toy.”
“Are you going to chain me to the bed like you chained Sky?” she grunted through gritted teeth. His words hurt worse than the broken bones. “I’m not your toy, Deivon.”
He lingered by the door, and Diana scanned for her pulse rifle. Only his chest was protected. She could kill him if she shot his face. After a minute of silence, he came back for her, lifted her off the floor, and put her in her bed. He kissed her lips, and she whacked his face as hard as she could. The move hurt her more than him, and left her gasping. His loving gaze felt like acid. She’d never been more than a plaything to him.
“I’ll send a courier with breakfast. If I can find one to cross onto this side of town,” he promised, rubbing his jaw, undressing her with his eyes. Then he shook his head and laughed. “Colonel Rhodes is progressing nicely, I think.”
Hawk reached under his pillow and pulled out the pictures of his three children, worrying for them in a way he never had when he’d lived in Rocan. He was a non-custodial breeder, and they weren’t his children now anymore than they were then. They were a reminder of all the people in Rocan who needed him to find Cordova or some place with medicine that could save them. He kissed the pictures, tucked them under the pillow, then put on a fresh shirt and carried his journal to the galley.
“Morning, bébé,” he greeted Sky, sliding onto the bench. “Any word on Tray?”
“The surgical knitter worked, so no open surgery required,” Sky said. “I’m making him a get well carrot cake. Don’t tell Amanda about the carrot part. Want to try?”
Hawk pursed his lips and opened his journal. “Is it sweet?”
“It will be once I add the glaze,” she smiled, dumping sugar into a pot of goo. “Speaking of sweet, I saw you got a message from Benedict.”
“Don’t embarrass me, Sky,” he complained. “I have one shot with this guy. I’ve never been with someone I didn’t grow up with.”
“Or pay for,” Sky teased.
Hawk scowled. “Tony didn’t get paid. You threatened him and he left. Please don’t threaten Benedict.”
“Fine,” Sky said. “If he steps out of line, I’ll shoot first and threaten later.”
Hawk’s nostrils flared and he put down his pen, too preoccupied with Benedict to write. He checked his Virp for new messages, but the first machine picture that came up was from Sky, not him. It looked like a cross between a battery and an engine.
“This is the machine in your dream?” Hawk asked, shifting her sketch to a projection and turning it around. It wasn’t three-dimensional, so turning the image did nothing to add to his understanding. “Where does the power source sit? Or is it integrated?”
“I didn’t see,” Sky said, deliberately keeping her eyes off the image. “But I saw avalan in it. So either I dreamed the future or it’s Boone technology.”
“You’re a future seer, Sky. It’s what you do, whether you say it out loud or not. And if it’s something you are going to build, there’s probably a grav-source powering it,” he said, glancing at her.
“Well, that doesn’t narrow it down. I can do anything with a grav-source,” she groused. The image upset her, and so he reset the projection to private view.
“It’s not a hand-held weapon,” Hawk observed. “It looks like the generator in that thing that almost killed Tray. That gravity chamber.”
“No it doesn’t. I’ve seen those. I’ve built those,” Sky objected, her fist clenching around her spatula.
Hawk switched the picture, and showed her. “This is what the Joslin clinic used for their gravity chamber. After what it did to Tray, I wanted see how it worked.”
Sky didn’t look at it and Hawk frowned. His Virp vibrated, syncing with the morning news feeds. Danny was addicted to news forums, and Hawk had yet to deactivate all the alerts on his hand-me-down device. He silenced the alert, but a moment later, the device vibrated again.
“It’s Benedict!” he exclaimed. “Benedict’s here! He’s outside!”
Jumping from the table, Hawk raced down the stairs. Throwing open the back door, he saw Benedict standing there, handsome as ever.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” Hawk blurted out, resisting the urge to hug the other man. Benedict was lanky, and even though his pedestrian clothes were less baggy than his medic uniform, they still seemed to sag on his frame.
“Thanks. I hope it’s not too early. I saw that bullet-shaped vehicle roll out and I figured you were awake,” Benedict said. He smi
led shyly, running a hand through his wavy mop of brown hair. Hawk smiled so hard his face hurt, he was so excited to leave and explore the city that he didn’t want to invite Benedict inside.
“It’s called the Bobsled. It runs on gravity. It’s really kind of amazing how it works,” Hawk said, calling up a picture. The captain had left for the hospital a while ago. Had Benedict been watching the ship that long?
“I don’t need a blueprint,” Benedict chuckled. “I thought we could eat in the 3. There’s a garden cafe. They pick the vegetables while you wait and can turn them into anything. Unless you’ve eaten. Have you?”
“No, but Sky made cake. Have you eaten?” Hawk asked.
“No, I—was too nervous,” he confessed. “Is Sky the brunette I saw yesterday?”
“No, she’s who I came here to find.” Hawk took Benedict’s hand, shivering with excitement. “And thank you for helping with Tray yesterday. I wanted to get you something, but I don’t know what you like.”
“Oh, he is cute,” Sky crowed, trotting down the stairs and meeting them at the back door.
“How many people are here?” Benedict asked.
“Benedict, this is my friend Sky,” Hawk introduced. “Sky, this is Benedict. He’s is taking me to the 3 for breakfast. And then we’re seeing the rest of the city. And then doing other things, if he’ll let me.”
“She wasn’t on the ship before,” Benedict stammered, pulling his hands free from Hawk’s and taking a picture of her with his Virp.
“I was in the bed of a very important politician when they arrived,” Sky teased, posing for him.
“Not in a pay-for-sex way,” Hawk added. “I told you—”
“Who else is here? Who else are you hiding here?” Benedict asked.
“She wasn’t hiding before; she wasn’t here. She’s a friend of General Santos,” Hawk said.
“But I was not in his bed. He’s married,” Sky said quickly.
“I can’t go to the 5,” Benedict said, raking his hands through his hair. “I have a family. I have a sister. She depends on me. Where did you come from?”
The Confluence: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 6) Page 14