by R. K. Thorne
“Who the frag crowned you king of morality?” She rolled her eyes, flopped back on the couch, and blew out a breath, exasperated with him. Either she hadn’t spiked her own drink, or she had a much greater tolerance than he did. He was relieved to notice that his eyes barely snagged on her curves splayed out before him for more than a split second and that she didn’t notice.
“Don’t you care about anything deeper? Connection? What about love?”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. Love, my ass. Clever words for hiding codependence.”
“If you’d been in love, you wouldn’t feel that way.”
“And you have been?”
Twice. He said nothing.
“Love?” She frowned, even as laughter burbled out of her, suddenly cruel and dark. “She’ll never love you, you know. She doesn’t know how.”
He said nothing, just watched the view, the waves so very far away, and the lights of the city.
“She doesn’t even know what that is. She’s more cyborg than you are. Being raised by generals to beat sims just a little faster will do that to you. Haven’t you noticed? If Xi had a body, the AI would smile more than your stone cold bitch. And Ryu’s mission will always come first anyway.”
Silence stretched out, tense as a live wire, before he finally spoke. “It’s a good mission.”
“Not the Audacity’s mission. Her mission. Revenge.”
He grunted. “Slag off, Josana. You don’t know her.”
“Just because I’m young doesn’t make me wrong.” She straightened and jammed a finger at his face. “It makes me insightful. And honest. More honest than the other cunts on that ship.”
He flinched at the turn of phrase. “We’re done here.” He rose, took a step, and found his neural scrubbers still had work to do. The chem was waning, but not fully gone.
“Wait!” She skittered after him, around him, throwing her hands up to his chest to stop him. “C’mon. Listen, Kael. Fine, you love her. Fine, that matters or something. Whatever. But what happens here tonight doesn’t have to influence your petty little obsession.”
Honest, my ass. “But it does. It would for me.”
“I’m not going back to the ship, and even if I did, I swear to you I won’t say anything. No one needs to know.”
“See, that’s where we’re different. I would know. That’s the part that matters to me.” He took a step forward, into her, and she shifted back, not moving out of the way.
“Tell me the truth. If you’d never met Ryu, would you still be walking away?”
He hesitated. “There’s no way to know, is there?”
She stared at him a long time before she seemed to finally admit defeat. Her hands dropped, and she took a step to the side, then another, moving toward the kitchen and starting to fix another drink. “I see.”
“Good luck, Josana.” He made for the door.
“I mean, I can’t blame you for holding out for a woman with her own ship. But you should really reconsider putting all your eggs in one basket. Especially that basket. It’s a little… cracked.”
He stopped just short of the door. “She might be damaged. So am I. I’m not after her ship. It’s thinking like that that makes you completely uninteresting to me.”
She froze, shocked, before finding her mask again. “You’re better than these honey-coated platitudes. Be honest. Don’t hide the truth under bullshit. Everyone’s after something.”
“Everyone on Capital, maybe. By the seven suns. I see why people hate this place.” But that wasn’t true. He’d told her what he was after; she’d just chosen not to hear it. He turned toward the door, searched for the palm reader to open it. He found it, palmed the door open.
“The offer remains open, Sidassian.”
He glared back over his shoulder. “That’s not my name anymore.”
She leered at him. “You’ll always be a Theroki to me.”
“If you really knew me, you’d know I never really was one in the first place.”
Adan glanced at the clock. Persad was still awake, working in her study, as the local time neared midnight. Jenny was sitting in her usual armchair, still dutifully poring over feeds, but Nova and Mo had already hit the rack.
“Jen,” he said softly.
Her brows furrowed though she didn’t look up. “Why are you whispering?”
“Because,” he snapped, at normal volume now. “Can you come over here? I need your help.”
Her green eyes were suspicious, but she rose and joined him in the kitchen. “What?”
He lowered his voice now and leaned close. “I want to sneak onto Persad’s computer. Make sure she’s not holding out on us.”
“Can you do it from here?” She pointed at his field machine.
He shook his head. “I tried. She may have paper passwords, but her home setup is fairly tight.”
“So what do you need from me?”
He smiled, relieved that she didn’t have a stream of objections to the idea. Teammates were supposed to be like that, he guessed.
“Once she goes to bed, let’s just take a little look. Make sure she’s sharing everything. Can you play lookout? I have to concentrate and might miss someone coming.”
“Yeah, sure.” She put her hands in her pockets. “Is that it?”
“Yep.”
“Tell me when.” She sat back down, eying the study door with new interest.
Finally the door swished open, and Persad wandered out, yawning. Grabbing a glass of vitabrew from the kitchen behind him, she waved to them. “Good night.”
He waited a good measure, then waited a little more. Jenny eyed him, an amused smile on her lips, egging him on.
Finally, he nodded. “Let’s go.”
He had tinkered with her system enough to ensure they could get in without alarm—and the surveillance was conveniently malfunctioning. In fact, the ease of it made him think he ought to be worrying more about the fact that someone had done the same thing on board the Audacity, apparently in order to kill him.
Quietly, Jenny checked out the length of the hallway before stealing back in his direction. “She’s in her room. Can’t tell what she’s doing, but let’s go.”
He palmed open the door and hurried to the desk. The keys and the seat were still warm from where she’d been working.
He tried the password from her office. And—bingo. He was in.
As he started to dig, he was aware of Jenny moving around the room, listening at the doorway, checking the opposite door that led to a small solarium. He blocked it out and tried to concentrate.
He sifted through the machine systematically, checking each typical storage location. Then the next and the next. The majority of it was cybernetic mumbo jumbo to him, drawings, diagrams, notes, pictures. Logs her prototypes had spit out. Biometric measurements of tests. There was one labeled Ryu, another Asidian, another Kentt and Persad herself. He clucked his tongue. The doctor should know experimenting on yourself wasn’t the best idea.
He tried some searches for the girls’ names, but nothing came back, so he went for anything pertaining to the son. Some official records, forms filled out for schools, reports… He found some photo files and clicked. An adorable bronze-skinned baby with a curl of black hair on his forehead and drool on his mouth appeared on the screen.
“Gosh, he was so cute.” Jenny leaned in beside him, her shoulder brushing his. “So, finding anything? Besides potentially embarrassing baby pictures?”
“Not yet—”
A shuffling in the hallway made them both still. He quickly pulled up the hallway surveillance cam on the screen. Persad was shuffling their direction.
Jenny cursed under her breath.
Persad was a mere foot from the study door. Adan reached up, grabbed Jenny’s upper arm, and pulled her down into the chair with him. When she gave him a startled look and opened her mouth to say something, he held a finger to his lips. “Play along?” he whispered.
“Oh, I get it,” she whispered bac
k. “We’re not in here checking files?”
“Precisely.”
She nodded and nestled close, her head on his shoulder. It felt strangely familiar. Good. How had he been ignoring that for so long?
They watched the screen as Persad wavered by the door, patting her pockets. Adan’s hand hovered over the key that would lock the console and hide that he’d been snooping. He frowned at his hand, annoyed to see it was shaking slightly.
Persad passed the study, searched the kitchen—and then found her object of desire. Her glasses were perched on her head. She pulled them down, laughed to herself, and put them on her nose instead.
She headed back to her bedroom, and the door slid shut behind her.
Adan blew out a breath.
“Phew,” said Jenny, straightening slightly. “I guess we did claim to be in a relationship, though, so we’ve got the cover.”
He smiled. “So insightful that you saw this coming.”
She snorted, then slumped back against him. “Yeah right.” She didn’t move for a while, or even lift her head. “It’s late,” she murmured. “You’re cozy.”
“I know.” He didn’t say anything for a bit, studying the next set of logs. He checked the deleted files next. Her familiar scent caught his nose. “You smell good too, you know.”
She jerked a little in surprise. “I do? Not like cigars, I hope. Or cologne.”
“Like orange blossoms.” He clicked open another folder.
“Oh. My mother always had a tree in our apartment. I pipe the scent into my ship cabin. Guess it stuck around.” She sounded a little embarrassed.
“My mother owned an orange grove. Before the war.”
“Oh,” she said softly.
“Good memories.”
“Yes, me too.”
It seemed to slowly dawn on her that he wasn’t pushing her away. That perhaps she’d overstayed her welcome and he just wasn’t saying so. She glanced around, started to straighten. “I guess I better let you finish up.”
“I’m working just fine like this. And you know, Persad could come back.” She froze for a second, then eased back against him. “Almost done.”
“See anything?”
“Nope. She looks clean to me. If she’s hiding anything, it’s not in her computer.”
“Why did you think she might be hiding something?”
“Because Vivaan didn’t ask her for help on his little mission, but he grabbed one of her chips. We didn’t think it was likely, just wanted to check. I’m liable to think he just didn’t think his mother would be a fan of the idea.”
“He was probably right.”
“All right, that’s everything.” His fingers brushed over her back as he looked down at her red hair tucked against his neck, pulled back into a messy bun. She really was a small little thing.
Her face turned up to him, confusion in those green eyes. Their movements slowed to a stop, the two of them hanging still in time for a moment. And he found himself wondering, if he liked how she smelled, what about how she would taste?
Before he had time to seriously contemplate finding out, she rose and took a step away, running palms down her jumpsuit. Then, without turning back, she said quietly, “Good night, Adan.”
He rose too, but she was already fleeing. “Night, Jen.”
The door slid open and shut, and he was alone.
Kael stepped into Persad’s apartment and shucked his armor by the door, hoping it could make it back to its case without him. Every limb felt like it was made of lead.
The living room was empty, but a surveillance system sat on the end table by a couch. Adan was on-screen, Chayana too. Both appeared safe at the moment. Was Jenny using this? One of the others? It seemed odd to watch only Adan, if they didn’t know what he knew. What Ellen had confided in him. And he’d believed that that had meant something. What a fool he was.
Maybe Jenny was hitting the head. One handheld screen was missing; whoever had set this up must have taken it with them.
Gravity felt like twice what it should’ve been. Of course, it wasn’t; he was just exhausted. A strange chem aftereffect, perhaps. He needed something to clean the gunk out of his system more thoroughly. Sometimes the scrubbers could only handle some of the compounds, so that was probably the issue. He trudged toward the kitchen.
The door slid aside, and he stopped short. He had to remember to step forward so it didn’t close automatically in his face. He stepped in just in time.
On the other side of Persad’s high marble breakfast bar sat several intriguing things: Ellen, the handheld, a shot glass, and a bottle of whiskey. She looked up, and their eyes locked.
“What are you doing?” he said slowly.
She blinked. “I could say the same for you.”
Her words were clear, but he didn’t think that proved anything. “I’m getting some water and d-bars and going to bed,” he said, struggling to shake off a defensive tone of voice.
“D-bars?”
“Yeah.” Eying her, he continued his motion and headed for the cabinet where Persad had let them store some stuff. Man, that woman would be glad to be rid of them. E-bars, r-bars, d-bars… there they were. Perfect detox in one neat little package. Modern engineering for ya. He grabbed one.
“I heard you left with Josana.”
He turned and frowned at her. “Because Jenny and Josana were about to start ripping out each other’s hair. Neither wants to be seen together.”
She looked away, down at the glass. “Oh.” She refilled it and knocked another one back as he stared.
“What do you care?”
Her jaw clenched, and she poured another.
Before she could drink it, he crossed the distance and snatched it, knocking the thing back, his lips touching where hers had been in bitter mockery of a kiss.
He slammed the glass back down. Then he headed to another cabinet, got out two glasses, and filled them both with water.
Her fist clenched, she studied the marble while the water ran. “Why do you need d-bars?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
She glanced down at her lap, said nothing.
“But I won’t. Apparently someone thinks it’s a good idea to fill their home with inhibition-reducing chems.” He wouldn’t mention he’d also taken a drink. Like an overly trusting idiot. He strode over to her and sat the water down forcefully between her and the shot glass. He followed it up with a second d-bar for her. He took a long drink of his own as she stared at it, then up at him. “What’s she doing with illegal shit like that anyway?”
“Did they work?” she said, voice rough.
He shook his head. “I got scrubbers, remember? Damn things don’t work on everything, or hardly anything half the time, but underworld chems they know how to look for. Don’t exactly have medical uses.”
She stared at the water. “Why don’t you just go back? I can watch Adan.”
“Is that a dare? Are you serious?” He set down his glass. “How drunk are you?”
“Not that drunk.” She reached past the water and knocked another one back, eyes flashing defiantly. “But I’m working on it.”
“Then you can’t watch Adan.” He reached for the handheld.
She snatched it out of his reach. “Xi is watching too. Go on. Go do your worst.”
“Worst is right.” What had gotten into her?
“She knows how to walk in high heels, at least.”
He blinked. “Do you honestly think I care about that?”
She poured yet another drink. “Plenty of men do.”
“Do I know how to do that?”
She looked at him like he’d gone insane. “Uh, I don’t know, do you?”
“No.”
A smirk crossed her features briefly. “Plenty of guys do.”
He stole the glass and the drink again before she could reach her mouth with it. “My point was it’s about as much of a deterrent for me as it is for you.” It was good whiskey, he had to admit. He
put the glass back in her hand this time.
She stilled, setting the glass on the marble in slow motion. “Deterrent to what.”
He scowled. “C’mon, Ellen. Don’t do that. You know exactly what.”
“Kael—”
“No.” He cut the air with his hand. “Look, I don’t get your reasons. But I respect them. It’s okay. Really. The mission is important. Case closed. Forgotten.” He leaned forward as he threw her words back at her.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Except it’s not case closed with you, is it? Why are you getting smashed right now?”
“Why did you go against my orders and take Josana instead of ordering Jenny to do it?”
“Because both of them refused to go along, and I didn’t think it mattered, and you weren’t here to consult, and you didn’t answer your damn comm. I tried twice.”
She frowned. “My comm didn’t—” She stopped short. “He must have installed a jammer. That piss-drinking monkey-eating—”
“And how about you tell me why you even bothered issuing those orders, huh?”
“Because you were supposed to be on Adan, not Jenny!”
“She’s not going to kill him, she’s fragging in love with him. How can everyone not see that?”
Ellen only blinked, eyes like an owl’s.
“And while we’re on the subject, where are your principles and reasons when that swaggering idiot comes around? Peaks and Valleys and sushi dinners isn’t a distraction? We could be here getting attacked, and you’re not even here.”
“Ostrov?” Irritation clouded her face. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’m trying to get information out of him, just like he is from me. As part of our mission. He saw Cho, I’m sure of it.”
“He’s trying to get more than information out of you.” His fingers tightened on the top edge of the back of her chair.
She groped for words. “Well, he’s not going to get it!”
“Then why do you keep seeing him?”
“Information, I told you!”
He huffed and threw up his hands.
“Look, I don’t give two fleas on a donkey’s ass about him.” She stopped for a long moment, breathing hard. “Did you think—even with you—that I would—” She stopped short, fell silent.