by R. K. Thorne
He turned back toward her, the tattoos and scars vanishing. “Think she’ll be able to find the panel buttons in one shot? That schematic you sent me was crazy complicated.”
“If I hadn’t been being tortured, I’d have been super impressed you executed it from a distance while we were all losing our minds. It’s not easy. I can’t really hit all six pressure points by myself, although I don’t know why I’d want to.”
“Well, you know, it was life or death.” He shrugged. “That changes things. Doesn’t it.”
She took a deep breath, trying to relax and train her eyes on the ceiling.
“It makes you nervous,” he said softly.
“Very.”
“The chip part in general, or this whole… ?” He gestured vaguely at the chair.
“Both. But being… worked on, that’s the worst of the two.”
He frowned. “I think I remember where the pressure points are. Would it help if I…” He gestured vaguely at her neck. “So she doesn’t have to struggle? If I don’t get it right away, we can leave it to her.”
Strangely, it did sound less scary to have him do it. Especially since she could see him, and it wasn’t just someone clinking and tinkering at the base of her brain. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Really? You sure?”
“Yeah, it will save time.” The words felt like a lie. It would save her time, but Ellen didn’t really care about that. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Let me see,” he muttered.
A warm spot came to rest gently below her jaw, and a wave of shock rocketed through her. Somehow she’d thought he meant he’d use telekinesis, just like he’d done back on Upsilon.
But no.
One fingertip pressed behind her ear, whisper soft against her ear lobe, and it took a herculean effort to conceal the shiver. Another found the correct spot at the base of her neck. The six points were a little odd, but not that hard to reach if you had two hands, approaching from the front. At her own angle, that was another matter.
He found the two spots just behind her jaw on the other side. How were his hands rough even when all they did was wear power armor? The points of warmth of his fingers touching her, sent ripples of energy across her skin, and she felt her lips part, unintentionally.
Her eyes snapped open, suddenly afraid. Not at what he was doing, but at what it revealed.
She couldn’t tell if his eyes were trained on her neck or her lips, but he frowned in concentration as he pressed into the last spot. Some mechanism connected and slid home.
She winced, her body tensing as the tiny compartments opened. One at her neck, the other more secret compartment farther down her back. It was still hidden by the shirt. And it’d been redacted from the specs she’d sent Persad. An emergency chip rested inside, in case someone could hijack her via the primary opening. If they missed the slightly more hidden one, allies could activate the fallback remotely, and it would reclaim control. Well, mostly only Dremer or Simmons could do that. They had to know it was there to activate it.
Funny how she wanted to tell Kael about it now. Not because she didn’t trust Persad, but more because it seemed like he ought to be one of the ones who knew.
Damn it. It’d only been two months. She trusted him too much. Far, far too much.
He must have seen the expression in her eyes change. “You okay?” His fingertips still rested on her skin. He probably didn’t know it had worked, since it had opened nearly soundlessly.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said quickly. She was being stupid, trying to draw the moment out. If she wanted him to touch her, she should tell him that. Like a normal person. “Thanks. It worked. Glad that’s done now.” She forced out a laugh that sounded nervous and a little crazed.
He hesitated, eyes searching her face as if he’d thought he’d seen something and then lost it. She saw that expression of searching her features often enough on him.
Slowly, he lifted his hands and started to draw away. But at the last second, he brushed the back of his knuckles against the edge of her jaw.
It was such a brief moment to send such a thrill of lightning through her. She knew what’d come next. He’d pretend it was an accident, and she’d pretend to believe him. Like they always did.
They didn’t make it that far. The door opened, and Persad waltzed in, muttering to herself. She stopped abruptly, head cocking to one side and eyes doing their dance between the two of them again.
Kael snatched his hands away and sank into the nearby seat, eyes dark and turned toward the floor.
Ellen jerked a thumb at her shoulder and back. “Got the panel open for you, Doctor. We thought we’d save you the time.”
“How very… considerate of you. Okay, let me go over your vitals, and we should be ready to get this started.”
Ellen took another deep breath, desperately trying to steady herself against two whirlwinds now. She let her eyes drift up to the ceiling, conveniently avoiding him, and she could feel he was still looking away. Brooding.
“You got any cookies in this place, Persad?” she said. She couldn’t even muster a frown at the wobble in her voice.
“Didn’t Ostrov feed you adequately?”
That wasn’t helping. “You think I’d eat anything he offered? I’m starving.”
“You’re anxious as hell, by these readouts. Do you want a sedative?”
“No,” she snapped. She took a deep breath. “I’ll breathe through it.” She closed her eyes.
“Hmm. Yes… maybe. That’s better. Oh? Oh, yes. Third cabinet on the right.”
Ellen didn’t even register that last bit until the door opened and shut, but there wasn’t much time for processing. The hot searing twinge slammed into her neck, a pinch like a needle sliding into a vein, then ice. Fingers in her hair, gentle ones. Pins and needles starting between her shoulder blades and shooting out to her fingers and toes. Frag.
Deep breaths, deep breaths.
“Almost done. Closing you up. Take it easy, it’s okay. Almost done. There. It’s all right.”
She was panting, cold sweat beaded on her brow, when the door reopened again.
“We’re good. All done. You can get up.”
She lowered her eyes from the ceiling tile. He was back in the chair, a plate balanced on one knee. A half dozen perfectly round, pale cookies topped with little bits of pistachio sat prettily on the dish. She staggered out of the chair. The pebble was cool, a light pressure on the top part of her skull.
Persad patted her on the shoulder. “Good job. Let me go put this away.” She wandered out the door, eyes still on the devices and readouts in her hand.
They were alone.
He lifted up the plate. “You look like you need one of these.”
She grabbed one and took a bite. “I’ve been better.”
“And you’ve been worse.”
The words hit her like a fresh spring wind over the hills. Relief. It was true. She smiled at him now, wide and sunny, and didn’t bother to try to hide it. He looked a little startled.
“You’re right about that.” She bit into the cookie and chewed with gusto. “So right. Let’s go find our quarry, shall we?”
He rose. “It would be my pleasure, Commander.”
She picked up a cookie and put it in his hand. “Pretty sure we’re drinking tonight, so…” She took the plate and headed for the door.
“On duty? Always breaking the rules.” His eyes twinkled as he followed her out into the hall and headed for his room.
“Well, we have to fit in, right?”
“I doubt you’ll ever do that, Elle.”
She ducked her head as she hurried into her room. She had armor to put on, Persad’s hard work to secretly download to make sure it wasn’t going to drive her insane or take over her mind, Josana to deal with, and a long night to get ready for. But that damn smile just wouldn’t go away.
Chapter Seven
Ellen hadn’t yet finished removing her armor when the chime
sounded. She tried not to groan. She hadn’t been procrastinating; she just wanted to make sure Xi had plenty of time to finish the download of the data and get it to Dremer. Even if it had finished ten minutes ago. The fact that she was still armored aside from her head and her hands had nothing to do with the fact that Josana was now standing in her doorway, with the biggest, most sincere grin Ellen had ever seen the girl attempt.
“Welcome home, Ryu. Ready for date night part two?” The door slid shut as Josana bustled in with her packages. “Really getting out there these days in your retirement. Good for you. How was the lover boy—what was his name? Ostrov?”
Ellen narrowed her eyes. “Arrogant.”
“Arrogant can be fun.” Josana gently set her burden on the room’s small guest bunk.
“Not on him, it’s not.”
“Are you ready for contestant number two?”
“We’re trying to find a kidnapped,” and now she lowered her voice, “and possibly dead young man. This is not a game show.”
Josana rolled her eyes, lifting one longer package—no, a black garment bag—and hanging it on a hook by the door. “Even in suffering, we must take amusement where we can find it. You don’t find it amusing to have them all posturing for you? And ignoring me, too. The indignity.” She shook her head.
Ellen couldn’t tell if that was sarcastic, teasing, or sincere. “You have Adan.”
“Actually, no, I don’t.” Although still smiling, Josana gave her a withering glare. “Even he picked you over me.”
“Me?”
“You and his job.”
“You shouldn’t take that personally. Pilots don’t like to leave the stars. Or ships they have all to themselves. Once they get a taste…”
“And do marines like to leave their power armor?” Josana glanced pointedly at the armor she was still wearing.
“No. They don’t.” Ellen blew out a breath, reluctantly freeing the forearm piece and the elbow. Heaven forbid she just automatically release it all and get it over with.
“I know.” Josana’s grin was absolutely murderous. “So much black,” she purred, running graceful, long fingers down Ellen’s newly unearthed forearm. Ellen took a step back before she even realized she was doing so, and Josana’s grin widened. “You need to live a little. Your outfit is here. Call me if you can’t figure out how to clothe yourself. I’ll be with your date number two.” Then chuckling a little to herself, she palmed open the door and disappeared before Ellen could think of a clever retort.
She was torn between a desire to do whatever it took to block Josana from being alone in a room with Kael and dutifully revealing what horror Josana had conjured up. Would it even be recognizable as clothing? Who knew, considering fashion around here?
She gripped the elegant black garment bag with one hand, seized the zipper with the other, and took a deep breath.
Please be a boring robe please be a boring—
She yanked down the zipper like ripping off a dirty bandage. Bright fragging blue shown out from between the two zippered halves, soft blue but bold too, vibrant like the color of the shallowest water on the Capital beaches. She caught her breath, then forced herself to slide the bag away to reveal the form of what was inside.
It was a robe, actually. A really, really short one.
Sashes of ice blue, peacock, and fuchsia belted it at the waist, the fabric shimmering. It didn’t look long enough to cover her ass.
Only one way to find out.
She unceremoniously yanked the thing out of its packaging and turned it this way and that. Hell. She was reaching for the comm to call Jenny when there was another knock at the door.
“What?” she snapped.
Josana leaned in, her eyes dancing with glee. “Forgot the shoes.” She held out a box.
“You’re a sadist, you know that?” She snatched the box from her hands.
“I do.” Josana only grinned wider. “I own it.”
“Get out.”
“Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”
Ellen propped a hand on her hip. “I am equally capable of violence without my armor, Josana.”
She rolled her eyes. “Back to the boy toy then.”
“You—” she started. “He is not—”
The door shut in her face.
She dropped the box on the bed and stared at it for a long second, maybe two. She reached closer, hesitated… But there was nothing for it. Sound-muffling boots and power-armor boots were her only other options. In other words, they weren’t options. She’d never get in with them on.
She forced herself to flip open the lid, tossing it sharply aside and jerking back like she expected a grenade.
But inside was something far, far worse.
High heels.
Jenny wasn’t usually one to sulk. But between this odd mission, Adan traipsing off with Josana like Capital was an amusement park fairyland for their budding romance, and just being on this stupid rock in the first place, she found herself sitting alone in Persad’s tiny solarium, brooding, when Ellen’s call came in on the comm.
She punched the button to audio only and raised it to her ear.
It had been a long time since she’d heard her commander swear like that. Maybe never.
“I know, I know.” Jen rubbed a hand across her forehead.
“She’s a sadist, Jenny. I’d hate to see the psychological workup Taylor has on her.”
“You mean you haven’t seen it?”
“I’m afraid to look. It’s not like she’s mission critical. Until now anyway. This is awful.”
“I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t decide whether to say something or not say something. She started poking me. Do I say you don’t usually wear high heels? Would that discourage her or encourage her? I dodged the question, but she could smell blood. Like a fashion-police bloodhound.”
Jenny of course couldn’t blame Ryu for her lack in that particular, somewhat useless skill. At twenty-two, with a life exclusively in the military and with little or no family, it wasn’t that hard to have avoided the damn things. Union dress uniforms didn’t use them. Jenny had to secretly admit she envied Ellen a little bit, having made it to this age before someone twisted her arm into the things. Jen was pretty sure she’d gotten her own first pair at four, to be shown off at her mother’s cocktail parties.
“She’s a cruel, cruel woman.” Something thunked loudly on Ryu’s end of the comm.
Jenny winced. This focus on Josana wasn’t helping her brooding. “Are you going to be okay? I mean, isn’t that dangerous?” Stilts would probably have been a safer choice for a mission.
“I’ll deal. Maybe I’ll just go barefoot.”
Rubbing her forehead, Jenny leaned back on the soft white solarium couch. “How’s the dress?”
“You can’t see my ass. I think. Barely. Maybe it depends on the angle.”
“That’s a low bar you’ve got there.”
There was a slight pause, and the voice that came through eventually was less irreverent, more vulnerable, shaking slightly. “This is going to be so embarrassing.”
Jenny took a deep breath, let the silence ride for a while, before she said, “Does it matter what they think?”
Ryu let out a crazed bark of laughter. “Good point. It doesn’t.” She cleared her throat. “You’re completely right.”
“It doesn’t, but… I hear a ‘but.’ ”
“Maybe there might be an opinion or two that does matter to me, and I don’t want to look like a fool, in front of…” she grumbled.
Jenny grinned. “Gosh, Commander, it’s sweet of you to worry about me, but I’m not judging you. Actually, I kinda envy that you’ve avoided those contraptions this long.” Obviously, it was not her that her commanding officer was concerned about, but Jenny played along.
Ryu snorted. “How will the ship ever fly again? I’ll lose everyone’s respect. It’ll be mutiny. Zhia will don higher heels and take command. Chaos!”
&nb
sp; “We all are left to Chaos in the end,” Jenny said mildly. “Look, tell me what these shoes look like.”
“Expensive. Very expensive. Black leather. Classic, actually. Josana could have chosen a lot worse. The only problem is the heel.”
“How high?”
“Eight, maybe ten centimeters?”
“Oh my God.”
“I know. I’m going to kill her. Murder her slowly in her sleep. Should I use a pillow or just my hands, you think?”
“Just so you don’t have to wear the shoes? Cause I’m pretty sure you would still have to wear them, even if she’s dead, but then we’ll have a body to dispose of. That’s not making our lives easier. And I doubt her sister and therefore Dr. Taylor would approve.”
Ellen sighed.
Jenny rubbed her chin. “I tell you what. Here’s my suggestion. Wear them out of the building. Gives you a good excuse to hang on a certain beefy arm. Then—”
“Why would I want an excuse to—” Ellen started.
Jenny pretended she hadn’t heard that. “—when you get downstairs, have Xi find a store nearby and get you a new more practical pair.”
“Oh. Wow. That’s a good idea. Will do.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Sorry. Thanks. I’m a little distracted over here.”
“Go ahead, finish getting ready. I’ll be there to see you off.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“And miss sight of the heels?”
“And possibly my butt cheek. You’ve been warned.”
“I’ve seen that already, remember? But I’ve got some climbing shorts. That oughta cover ya. I’ll be right there.”
“Jen, you’re a life saver.”
The call ended, and just as Jen was about to switch off the comm, a different name started up. A name she didn’t recognize. A shot of fear went through her. She hit audio only and accepted the call. “Hello?”
“Is this Ms. Jennifer Utlis, renowned climbing champion and brilliant progeny of the Utlis clan?” The man’s voice was formal, stilted. Fancy. Fit for on-air broadcasts. She went very still.
“How did you get this number?”
“Ms. Utlis, I am Sarlano Crane, lead anchor of the Dailyglow Network. You ran into one of my assistants and got a lovely… coffee together. She mentioned how gracious you were and that perhaps you might deign to do an interview. Your adoring public would love to know—are you in town for a competition? What are you doing on Capital, Ms. Utlis? Can fans catch a glimpse?”