Chen

by JC Hay

  Which was just as well.

  Regret turned in his chest, like a barbed hook caught in the flesh. Getting accepted to a position with the TriSystems Joint Forces had been his dream since childhood. Being able to care for umbra wolves was the highest tier of his profession, and reaching that pinnacle at his age had been a surprise and his family’s point of pride. He’d signed the agreements that started his journey without thinking where it might end. Now he wondered how much the quality of his schoolwork had even mattered, or if his benefactors had simply whispered in the right ears and greased the proper palms to place him where they needed him.

  The realization that someone beside the TJF had that kind of power, made those kinds of long-term machinations, was terrifying.

  On the plus side, he couldn’t be a threat to the rangers anymore. Never seeing Chen or Nujalik again ached like the time he’d had a tooth knocked out by an errant elbow playing BoomBall, but it was necessary. The only way he could avoid being a threat to them or to the rest of the wolves. With nothing of value to offer his blackmailers, hopefully they’d leave his family alone.

  Chen didn’t have family, other than her co-workers. He hoped she’d understand his choice. If she didn’t, then at least he wouldn’t have to see her disappointment.

  Javad grabbed one of the autopiloted trams heading toward the university district and climbed on board. While part of the old city, the UD was about as far from the spaceport as could be and remain inside the domes, so he settled into his seat and tried to look relaxed despite the worry boiling in his gut.

  The long journey had given him plenty of time to try and warn his family, but he’d had little success. His sister hadn’t answered when he called, and he told himself it was because she was busy. He’d left a message telling her that the trouble he’d mentioned had gotten serious and she needed to stay safe. Then he’d called his parents, but they’d pooh-pooed his talk of their closing down for a few days. It was the start of the semester, they’d said, and one of the busiest times for them. When he’d told them they weren’t safe, his mother had pointed out that things never were.

  Sometimes their pragmatism frustrated the hell out of him.

  He wiped his palms on his trousers and reminded himself they’d have called if anything had happened since his last message.

  The tram turned onto the street where his parents kept their restaurant, and his breath caught in his throat. Javad hit the button for a stop, and he hopped out as soon as the tram had slowed enough for him to do so.

  The restaurant still stood there, perfectly fine. The sidewalk tables were crowded with students drinking coffee and eating while they typed or read on their omnis. Through the window he could see that the inside was more of the same; people laughing, eating, and celebrating together. The way it was supposed to be. The way it seemed like it had always been.

  He stepped through the door, the bell ringing to announce his presence while he watched the natural ebb and flow of the trade. Behind the counter, Hannah Priddy turned to greet the new customer, and he saw the exact moment when his mom recognized him. Everything about her lifted. She practically glowed, and then she squealed as she tossed down her counter towel and ran across the store to sweep him into her arms. “You didn’t tell us you were coming to visit when you called!”

  He hugged her back, tugged along by her effusive emotion. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?” He also couldn’t be sure who had been listening in, and was afraid of giving too much away, either to his pursuers or the TJF.

  It felt like the entire restaurant had gone quiet and was staring at them. The door to the back opened, and Zofie came storming out with her iron rolling pin in one fist. “I heard screaming, Hannah. What’s—? Javad!” She ducked her head back into the kitchen to yell, “Konrad! Javad’s here!”

  “Then tell him to get back here. I’ve got orders backing up.” His father’s growl was devoid of any real menace, like a roar from a house cat.

  His mother rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. “You see how he is. As soon as Hannah lets you go, come back and see us too.”

  “Obviously,” he agreed. “Love you.”

  His mother smiled and replied with a quick “Love you too” before she retreated to the kitchen.

  “School started last week,” his mom said by way of apology. She kept one arm wrapped around him as though he might disappear, and steered him toward the counter. “You know how it gets.”

  All too well. The first month of university classes was always busy, both with new students looking for a favorite spot and returning students wanting to revisit one. They did plenty of business, and the extra hours meant he never had a shortage of pocket money when he’d been in secondary. “I know. I forget how busy it gets in here. The seasons get away from me anymore.”

  “Well, no wonder in your big fancy spaceship. I’d lose track of time too.” She grabbed a reader and walked to a table that had signaled her. The two students tapped their omnidevices to pay their bills and then left.

  Before Mom could ask, he carried over the sterilizer and began wiping the table down. In that moment, it felt like he’d never left, other than the aching absence in his chest at Mom’s mention of the Cry. “It’s not that big. Or that fancy. It’s a military vessel. They’re not exactly one for luxury accoutrements.”

  His mom sniffed at his correction. “Well, it looked fancy to me. Certainly, the three of us couldn’t be prouder of you.” The silence hung between them, noticeable even in the din of the restaurant. She straightened, bracing her lower back with one hand. “When are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

  “How do you know someth—”

  “Oh please. I gave birth to you. You call with a vague warning about how things aren’t safe then show up at the restaurant? I assume you’re worried about some kind of trouble.”

  Javad winced. “Am I that transparent?”

  “To me you are. Whatever it is, you know we love you, right?”

  “We can talk about it after the rush, so I can tell all of you at once.” No point in breaking her heart early, and then he could deal with the fallout of their lost faith in him and how it changed their relationship. Then again, they’d forgiven his sister. Speaking of... “Where’s Andile?”

  Mom waved her hand. “School. She’s going to be like you, now that she’s got things turned around. She’s trying to make up for lost time.”

  He nodded. In their own way, his parents were as proud of Andile for getting clean as they were of his career success. He thought of the photos he’d been sent and swallowed back a sudden knot of fear. “But she’ll be back tonight, right? I don’t want to miss her.”

  His mom tapped a quick message on her omni. “There. I told her you’d surprised us. If I know her, she’ll drop everything and head this way.”

  THE REST OF AFTERNOON rush passed in much the same fashion, with small talk squeezed into the spaces while he flitted between the kitchen and the front counter, filling in where needed. Years of doing the work alongside his family had turned the tasks into muscle memory, and it surprised him how easy it was to get into the rhythm of the business again.

  By the time the restaurant’s evening hours had ended and he’d helped his parents stack the tables, Andile still hadn’t shown up. The worms twisting in his stomach had evolved into a behemoth trying to bore its way free. He tugged his omni out and sent Andile a quick message of his own.

  The response came back in a matter of minutes. A single picture of his sister, looking terrified, wedged between two figures in the same menacing armor that the mercenaries on Farhope had worn. The weapons they displayed left nothing to the imagination. He started to text a response when his mother walked up. “Is that Andile? Tell her to get over here. Your father’s breaking out the good stuff.” Before he could close the display, his mom had already seen it. The color drained out of her and she gave a quiet moan of grief and stumbled back.

  “Mother, I’ve got... I tried to tell you
things weren’t safe.” He tried to piece together something like a coherent statement, but the terror on his mother’s face was like a blade in his heart. His mom and father came forward and wrapped Zofie in their arms and were whispering comforts to her. Konrad asked what was wrong, and when she just shook her head and wept, they held her tighter. Hannah and Konrad didn’t have to know what she’d seen, only that she was upset and needed affection. It was what had made his parents’ relationship so strong over the years.

  Guilt weighed down his shoulders like a leaden blanket. “This is my fault. It’s why I came home.”

  He motioned them to sit at the table where his father had been pouring drinks only moments before. When they had all settled, he took one of the glasses and drained it of the cloudy liquor. Bitter anise exploded in his mouth before mellowing into the familiar fire that seemed to warm his whole body from the stomach out. Javad closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. His mother hadn’t been lying; this was absolutely the good stuff.

  He opened the screen on his omnidevice and turned it for them to see. His mother began weeping anew, and his mom dragged her into a hug, petting her hair gently. His father looked from the omni to him with as close to an expression of anger as Javad could remember seeing. “What do they even want? Why are they doing this to her, again of all things?”

  Javad blinked. “This isn’t like her addiction, Father. This isn’t a result of her poor choices. It’s a result of mine.” He slipped off his glasses, folded them, and set them on the table, then told his parents the whole story. From the unexpected scholarship and the promise of full certification, all the way to the first anonymous message on the ship and through to the picture of Andile he’d just received. When he’d finished, they sat and watched him, each keeping their own counsel in a way that made him feel twelve years old again. They’d sit in judgment like that, as a team, each waiting for the others to start so they could present a unified front.

  His mom broke the silence this time. “So, you just abandoned this ranger, Chen? Yes, we’re glad you’re here, but she could have helped you. Helped us.”

  “She has her own things to worry about, and she’ll be safe back on the Hunting Cry. I didn’t want to entangle her in family drama.”

  The slap of her hands on the table made him jump. “That’s what you think this is?” She swept her arm to indicate his mother, still sniffling, eyes red with the tears he’d caused. “Someone kidnapped your sister! This isn’t ‘your two aunts can’t be invited to the same event ever since they wore the same outfit that one time.’ We need to involve the authorities.” She tugged her omni out of her apron pocket.

  “Do you think these people aren’t watching the place to see if you do exactly that?” Javad rested his face in his hands and blew out a slow breath. “How long do you think she’ll live if you call the police?”

  The statement released the temporary hold on his mother’s tears. Mom closed her hand over his mother’s and squeezed. The glare she shot him told him that he needed to apologize, and he did. Quickly.

  “We can’t be expected to do nothing,” his mom said. “We have to save her.”

  “That’s what the rangers do though, right?” His father shook his head as he squeezed Zofie and Hannah in his embrace. “I mean, I assume you’re waiting for instructions from the fleet or something?”

  “It’s a constellation, not a fleet. Like a group of stars.”

  His father narrowed his eyes. “No one likes a pedant.”

  “Except you,” Javad, his mom, and his mother replied in unison. And for a moment, there was a touch of tainted laughter at the table. His father’s love of minutiae and prickliness about getting the details right was legendary in the family, and laughter, in spite of the tears and terror, felt like a brief draught of forgiveness.

  “I don’t know that the constellation is going to help me,” Javad said at last. “If I stayed on the ship, I could just be used to threaten another ranger. Another wolf. I cut ties with them rather than be a risk. At the end of the day, I’m the one these blackmailers want. I can leverage that to get Andile back.”

  “So we’re supposed to give up one child for another? That’s what you think the solution is?” His mother’s disapproval weighed the words down, pinning them to the table.

  “This is my fault. If there’s a chance I can get her back, then that’s what I need to do.” He hated that fear made his voice want to crack, and he forced himself to slow down for his parents’ sake. “Like I said, I’m the one they’re angry at. With any luck, I can convince them it was their fault for not waiting on my signal. Once Andile’s back, you can call whoever you want. It’s not like I’ll be able to stop you. Just trust me enough to let me try first.” His hands shook as he poured himself another shot.

  His father was the one who answered. “We don’t want one or the other. You’re both our children. We want both of you back.”

  “What did you always tell me?” He reached across the table and closed his hand on his father’s wrist. “She’s my little sister. I need to protect her. This is the only way I see to do that.” It would cost his own freedom, and probably his life, but for his family? To keep Chen and Nujalik safe? He was willing to make that trade.

  Fourteen

  “What do you mean he’s not here?” Chen resisted the urge to shake the medical tech working in the med bay. It wouldn’t solve anything, but it would probably help with her own stress. “Who’s treating my wolf? I gave explicit instructions.”

  “As did Dr. Priddy.”

  Behind her, Chen heard Inouye and Grenville snort, and she glared at the two of them. “Really? You of all people are going to make fun of someone’s last name, In-the-way?” She appreciated that the two of them had accompanied her to Medical, especially with May tied up in debriefings with Commander Penzak.

  “I never should have told you about that,” Inouye muttered. When Grenville started to giggle again, Inouye jabbed him with a quick elbow.

  She turned back to the technician. Like all the medical personal, she was a civilian. No way for the rangers to pull rank on her. “I don’t understand. You’ve talked to Javad?”

  “I didn’t. But Dr. Lafrenz did. She’s overseeing your umbra wolf’s treatment based on his instruction.” The tech’s omni chimed, and she tugged it out of her pocket. “Actually, Dr. Lafrenz would like you to come back, if you can.”

  Chen started to follow the tech. Inouye, Grenville, and their two wolves fell into step behind her.

  The tech stopped. “Specialist Chen only. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Actually, we don’t understand.” Inouye wasn’t tall, but he was almost as solidly built as Chen, and he carried his authority in his posture as much as his voice. “If she’s going, then we’re going. She doesn’t have to go through this on her own.”

  The tech took a step back, and Chen put her hand up before this turned into a scene. “I’m sure she’s just following her instructions, Lance Corporal. She doesn’t have any more say over her orders than we do over ours.” In actuality, the rangers were given a tremendous amount of leeway as to how they completed an assignment, but that hadn’t been the point. Inouye stood down, and the situation de-escalated, which was all Chen wanted. She glanced at her squad mates. “If it’s bad news, you’ll know. Feel free to do whatever it takes to get to me.”

  Not that it would matter. If it was bad news, it was doom for her as well as for Nujalik. The other rangers understood that, and Grenville—who had a quip for the most inopportune times—just offered her a tight nod.

  She followed the tech back to the same recovery suite where she’d first met Priddy all those months ago. Dr. Lafrenz leaned over one of the tables, winnowing her fingers through Nujalik’s inky coat. She turned as Chen entered the room and smiled. “Ah. You’re here.”

  “That is not a good way to start this conversation.” Chen reached out across the bond, and her wolf’s happiness and relief flooded back at her. “Is she okay?
”

  The doctor looked down at the wolf, rewarding her with another round of scritches. “Yes. She’s fine. Whatever those mercenaries hit her with was top-shelf. Medical-grade paralytics.”

  “Meaning it’s someone with a bankroll. I’d figured that part when I looked over their kit.” Chen helped the doctor lower Nujalik to the floor, where the wolf padded about on unsteady legs. “She’s just getting used to walking again, right?”

  “Hm? Yes.” Lafrenz took a few observational notes on her omnidevice, then closed it. “She really needs to rest and recover another hour, but there’s no reason why you couldn’t be back here with her. Dr. Priddy felt that would be best to reinforce the bond between you both.”

  The wolfbond didn’t feel any stronger than it had before. But, she supposed, it didn’t feel any weaker either. She sat on the deck and let her wolf curl up in her lap. “Speaking of the doctor. When will I be able to talk to him? I want to thank him for his hard work and for figuring out what to do.” And a few other things, but Lafrenz didn’t need to know about those.

  The doctor studied a piece of lint on her cuff for too long, and the silence made Chen aware of the twinge of worry that laced Nujalik’s emotions. She stroked her thumb along the edge of the wolf’s ear, a touch that had always calmed her in the past, but Nujalik only settled slightly.

  “I don’t believe that Javad is coming back to the ship.” Lafrenz chewed her thumb but didn’t say more.

  Chen swore. “You mean he had himself reassigned?” Fool. She’d told him the commander would help, that the pack looked after their own. Regret hooked into the space between her ribs. She didn’t know what they could have had a chance at, and because she hadn’t said anything, it would remain a mystery. Her wolf licked the back of her wrist with a whine of sympathy.

  Lafrenz tapped her foot, the leather sole rasping out a quick staccato. “I mean I don’t think he’s returning to the constellation.”