by R. K. Thorne
She was shaking her head, habitually, manically, without intending to. Which one of those girls had been a reporter? Or was it all of them? No wonder they followed the protocol. “No competitions at this time,” she managed. “Just… visiting my mother.” She winced. She had no intention of visiting her mother, and her mother wasn’t even on Capital currently anyway, conveniently enough. It was a bad lie that wouldn’t hold up. But now they’d try to stake out her mother’s apartment.
“Please, Ms. Utlis, can I call you Jennifer? Such a beautiful, old-fashioned name. Jennifer, we’d love to interview you. Perhaps talk about how your parents picked such a gem.”
Jenny blinked until she finally snapped out of it. “Sorry… who are you again?”
“Sarlano Crane, lead anchor, Dailyglow.” His voice burst with pride. If she turned on video, he would probably be in full on-air regalia over there.
“Listen, Sarloto—”
“Sarlano.”
“Sorry. Anyway, I’m not here to make an appearance. I don’t have anything to say.”
“We can think of some easy questions, it’ll boost ticket sales and sponsorships, and—”
“I’m sorry, but not at this time.” The words came out in a rush, and before she could muck this up further—or worse, get pressured into agreeing—she hung up.
Kael’s neck was still itching where the chip had gone in when Josana appeared in the doorway, a devilish grin on her face and a gleam in her eye. The itch of course was all in his head; the chip wouldn’t itch, and if something were wrong, he’d be more likely to get a vicious zap or lose all feeling in his neck. Neither were fun experiences.
From the look on Josana’s face, this wouldn’t be either. He’d retired to Persad’s study as a temporary room to get ready for this little mission of theirs after the chip removal. It seemed safer than Vivaan’s if any additional wall-punching urges were to spring to mind.
“Let’s get this over with,” he growled. He was definitely feeling punchy already.
She draped a black garment bag over Persad’s holodesk and took a bag off her shoulder. From inside she withdrew three boxes. “First, we’re going to do something about that hair.”
“Glory be, about time.” Her glee seemed to dim a little at his relief.
“This goes on your head and does all the work.” She indicated a nondescript black box.
“Wow, that’s terrifying.”
She rolled her eyes. “The big Theroki scared of a little autohaircut? That explains a few things.”
“Like what?”
She just shook her head. “Suit’s in here. Put it on, and come out where I can check you did it correctly.”
“There’s a correct way?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Yes. You’ll see. I’ll shine you up like a new ship hull.”
“I thought you hated space.”
“I do. It’s just an expression.” Her eyes were rolling heavenward as she shut the door and left him alone with the insanity.
The box… could have been worse. It presented him with a number of options, rejected his request to buzz everything off, and offered a choice of three pre-approved haircuts, which he felt was starting to really overstep the bounds. They were short and more “officer material” than he might have ever considered, but perhaps it was fitting now that he’d somehow ended up an officer. The box was quick and efficient and cleaned up its own mess. The suit was far more complicated. Men really put up with this shit here? He shook his head. Of course, if you compared it to armor that assembled itself, perhaps that wasn’t really fair. But even his old Theroki armor did that.
One haircut and one puzzle in fabric later, he emerged.
“I have no idea if—”
Her eyes widened in horror. “You’re helpless.” She rushed over to him and began making adjustments. “Hopeless. Helpless and hopeless.”
“I tried to tell you we’re not cut from the same cloth,” he muttered. “But you didn’t believe me.” He pointed at the rather high popped collar and the thin silver chains that looped around the shoulder. “This is absolute nonsense. People actually wear this stuff?”
“Yes. Maybe it wasn’t the fashion on Faros—”
“It’s been a decade since I’ve been to Faros anyway.”
“—but there was a time on Earth when these styles were popular. Don’t ask me who decides when to recycle them.” She tightened a strip of fabric around his neck almost vindictively, then banished her annoyed expression as she appraised him head to toe. “Not that I’m complaining, because this is just zenith.” She turned him to face the mirror, hands on his biceps. “I don’t know how your date will fair, but you’ll do wonders for my reputation.”
He shifted away from her slightly, but she held him in a death grip. Her fingers tightened once, and then she let go and walked away.
“Offer’s still on the table, Theroki,” she said, walking away.
He pretended to ignore her and stared at the person in the mirror. Funny how a haircut could change the face. But it wasn’t just that. His eyes looked… different. Less hard edged. It had to be the chip’s changes sinking in. Or maybe all the fragging meditation.
Nah, couldn’t be that.
Of course, having his own cabin and a lot more sleep and colleagues he could trust and a commander he could… And a great commanding officer. Well, all that couldn’t hurt. He looked like a younger version of himself. A happier one, as hard as that was to believe.
How strange.
That was how he came to be standing silent and alone in the hallway when a clatter rose up behind him in the hallway and he turned.
And saw legs. Miles and miles of legs.
Before he could take in the entire scene, his brain caught on those legs. And that skin. He’d seen her in fitted armor suits plenty of times, but this was the real deal. Bare. Impractical. Nothing between his body and hers but the air.
Looked like he’d have something new to fuel his totally inappropriate fantasies about his boss. Guilt would be sure to come along for the ride.
The silence seemed to stretch on forever. The hallway, the whole apartment, was empty and silent, just the hum of ventilation and their breathing over the sandy hallway tile, the fancy wood paneled walls.
“You think this will help find her son?” he said after forever had come and gone.
She inhaled sharply, then breathed it out. “Don’t know. But we’ve got to try, right?”
“Right.” He nodded.
“You…” She hesitated. “You look distinguished. Like an admiral.”
“That’s a first.” He snorted. “Are you sure? Cause I feel like an idiot. Who wears this ridiculous side cape thing?” He flounced it out to the side, jangling the decorative silver chains.
“Admirals. Union ones, anyway.”
“Oh.” They did sort of look like epaulets, now that she mentioned it. He swung his left shoulder back and forth. The right one was thankfully just a normal shoulder.
She snorted one short laugh. “Also other fancy rich people. Some military dress uniforms.”
“Ah. Well, you…” He started before he had formulated what exactly he was going to say, and he had to stop himself before the words “look practically naked below the waist” tumbled out. Smooth, Kael, real smooth. He should probably say something professional and not too complimentary, given all their history together, but as he scrambled, nothing came to mind.
Her eyes widened slightly. And now it was just getting more awkward by the second.
“You leave me speechless,” he said quietly, shrugging and giving himself over to the compliment.
Except the slight furrow of her brow told him perhaps she wasn’t so sure that speechless was a good thing.
Oh, but it was. Beyond her own lithe athleticism so effectively on display—perhaps Josana really did know what she was doing—the color was striking. Blue satin, the color of a clear summer sky, fell in a fairly simple kimono that cut off at the earliest possible
moment. Other than the sexy shoes, there wasn’t much else to it. She’d probably taken half the time to dress that he had, if that.
She was leaning with one arm on the wall for balance, and as she took a step toward him, he realized why. Her ankle wobbled, and she ducked her head.
He pretended he didn’t notice her adorable blush. “Speaking of ridiculous, she’s really outfitted you for fighting, hasn’t she.”
“Mm-hmm. This outfit is a death trap.”
“It really is. Lucky for you, my ability to carry you doesn’t depend on my armor.”
“Sorry I can’t say the same thing.”
“We all have our strengths.” He grinned.
She sighed, stepped out of the shoes, and picked them up, one finger hooked in each heel. Bare feet grazed expertly, athletically across the cold tiles. He swallowed.
“For me, these shoes are not one of them.” She glared at the things as she held them up in front of her face. “But worst-case scenario, you have my full permission to toss me over your shoulder. C’mon. Let’s find Josana, Nova, and the others and get this over with. I sure hope he’s at that club. Or we find something.”
“Did you say Nova?”
“I sent for more weapons. Ones I can hide in this… scarf I’m wearing.”
He snickered. “Wise choice. More weapons, always good.”
Adan drifted out of the cabin Persad had suggested he could use. The apartment smelled warm and homey, of curry and garlic, and it was far warmer than any spaceship he’d lived on. A commotion in the living area had drawn him, but he stopped pretty quickly at the edge of the hallway. Josana was looking over her victims—the commander and Kael—and Adan wanted to keep his distance. He didn’t even want to look at Josana, but the spectacle was too great not to stare. Jenny stood nearby, leaning against the wall and messing around with a tablet while she watched, eyes twinkling. He paused beside her, hands in his pockets.
He met her gaze with a smile, remembering his earlier sense of regret and the cigar comment. “Wow, they sure shine up right, huh?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not that hard really, if you know what to do. What to buy. Who to buy it from.”
“Pretty hard if you don’t though. Or don’t have the credits.”
“True. Unfortunately, I’m no stranger to fancy parties.” She squinted at something on the tablet, lips pursed in thought.
“Unfortunately?”
“Yeah.” She shifted slightly from leaning on her bicep to leaning on her back, facing him. “God, they’re so boring. Parents always dragged me. I mean, I can do it, but it’s not me.”
“Me neither. Obviously.”
“Hmm.” Her face was a bit cold as she watched them, and if he didn’t know better, he would have thought he saw a touch of anger around her eyes. “But is it who you want to be?” Her green eyes pinned him now, ruthlessly.
“I don’t think I’m invited. So the point is probably moot.”
“Ah. So that’s it.” Her soft smile was sad.
His brow furrowed. “What’s ‘it’?”
“Nothing like something you can’t have to make you want it.” She jutted her chin at the fancy couple—or maybe Josana.
He scoffed, gestured vaguely at them. “I don’t want that.” And it felt kind of good, especially in Josana’s direction. To say aloud that he didn’t want her. It felt true, surprisingly enough. But Jenny didn’t just mean Josana, or nice clothes, did she? She meant the lifestyle, and a cold feeling settled in his gut, a thought that he might be exactly that stupid.
“Aren’t you thinking of staying here?”
He looked down at his feet, trying to think of a way to say that he’d rejected the offer already, that things were over. That he’d been a fool, an easily manipulated fool. An easy way to say that didn’t come. He shifted his weight and retrained his frown on their comrades.
Jenny was probably right. It wasn’t parties, per se. But Josana’s offer had drawn him in, even when he knew it was impossible, stupid. But sneaking around on a fancy paramilitary vessel no one knew about didn’t do much to help him figure out what he was, if he wasn’t that poor, red-dirt-covered kid. He was something else now, but what? A pilot? Somebody’s potential computer guy?
“Adan?” she said softly, and he realized he hadn’t answered her.
He opened his mouth but came up with nothing.
“Are you okay?”
He tried for another moment to speak, then shook his head, turned, and retreated back into the cabin.
Nova did not disappoint. One laserblade the size of her pinky finger, a mini Red Death the size of a lipstick tube, and a garrote for absolute emergencies, and Ellen was ready to go. Kael had a lot more potential hiding places and strapped himself up with a scanner-defying boot knife, among other goodies.
“All right, enough. We’re leaving,” she grunted. She padded toward the door. At least the cool marble felt good on her feet. She’d have to wear the dang shoes once they neared the street, she was fairly sure. But if she delayed any longer, she was sure Josana would try something with the cosmetic box she’d been fiddling with in her hand.
“Oh, you can’t walk.” Josana jumped forward, one palm raised to stop her. “You can’t show up on foot! And definitely not barefoot. Movers be damned, you’ll ruin me forever.”
“Does everyone drive because they are all wearing these insane shoes?” She strode back and shook the things in Josana’s face.
“Well, yeah. Probably.” Josana stared, clearly not seeing a problem with that.
“Oh.” Ellen let her hand holding the shoes fall to her hip. “Oh.”
“Listen, there’s a flyer waiting downstairs. I’ve taken care of it.” She rolled her eyes again. “You think I’d leave a detail like that up to you? Besides, it’s on the 140th floor, and the entrance is on the outside of the building. You actually can’t get in from inside.”
Ellen doubted that very much. There was some way food and drinks and employees probably got into that place, not to mention emergency exit tubes. But this wasn’t that kind of mission. They didn’t need to sneak in in spite of Kentt. They needed to just walk up and talk to her. “Fine, fine. Anything else?”
“You two look great,” Jenny said, practically beaming.
Nova, grinning too, snapped a picture. “This is going to make Fern’s day.”
Ellen considered seizing Nova’s comm and running, but Xi probably had this all on video. Nova and Mo were still armored. Mo, for what it was worth, seemed only mildly curious.
“Don’t embarrass me,” Josana said, pursing her lips.
“God, you really know how to win ’em over, Josana,” Jenny mumbled.
“If I cared about your opinion—” she started before Ellen cut her off.
“No guarantees.” Ellen turned and headed for the door, and Kael followed.
Stepping into the elevator tube, she was relieved to see no one trailing after them. “Xi,” she said into her comm. That and the fake lipstick tube had been permitted to go into a pocket in the belt along with her few other necessities. “Can you find me some nearby shoe stores between here and the Elderflower place?”
“Yes, Commander.”
She sighed. “Call me… call me Ellen tonight, Xi.” It was probably long overdue that she dialed back the formality with the AI. Everyone else already had. And she didn’t want anyone tonight overhearing the title.
“Exception created for this evening, expiring at sunrise tomorrow. Will this timeframe do, Ellen?”
“Yes,” she muttered, feeling too awkward and guilty floating barefoot in an elevator carrying her shoes worrying about how she instructed an AI to address her. The scorchingly handsome former Theroki beside her—that looked nothing like one—certainly had nothing to do with the awkwardness. Nor did his seeming inability to look at her beyond that first open-mouthed, stunned stare.
They floated to the ground floor and regained gravity, heading through the lobby toward where a bank of flyer
s waited to service the building. Coming up beside her, he laughed softly to himself, those eyes still trained on the mosaic glass floor.
“What is it?”
He hesitated for a second, than glanced briefly her way. His eyes seemed to sparkle, brilliantly alive. “Back when we visited Molyarch, I had this thought then that we’d definitely never be in that position walking together on Capital.”
The corner of her mouth crooked up. “And yet here we are. Just goes to show you, you never know.”
“I’m not sure if I should be pleased or terrified.”
“Ellen?” Xi’s voice spoke up, wisely discreet.
“Yes?”
“I regret to inform you that there are several shops, but none of them are open. I contacted each by comm to see if I could arrange them to open specifically for you for a price, but none have responded. Apparently today is some kind of holiday. There are many on Capital.”
She groaned, stopping just short of the doors outside.
“Also, something else. There has been unusual access activity around the calls you made earlier back to the ship. And elsewhere.”
“To Doug?” she murmured.
“Yes. The call records were not altered or deleted, only accessed, though there was an attempt to remove the record of access. Only because of the redundancy we set up did I find the discrepancy.”
“Hmm. Is there anything we need to do?”
“Not at this time. I can find no further action to take. But consider any information discussed on those calls at risk.”
Tonight’s weapons, the new chip, her tortured heart… Doug’s location hidden somewhere in the Audacity’s memory banks. “That is not good.”
“We’ll deal with it when we get back,” Kael reassured her.
She nodded, pulled herself straighter. Right. First one problem, then the next. One step at a time. She dropped the shoes to the floor and began wiggling one foot in. “All right. Sorry, Kael, but you’re going to have to help me with this. I just can’t walk in these things.”