“That’s a good idea,” Brondi said, nodding slowly. “I admire your mercenary spirit, but what makes you think I’d trust you in the cockpit of a nova fighter after you betrayed me?”
“Alara is your collateral. I wouldn’t do anything that might cause you to take it out on her.”
Brondi smiled. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I have.”
“Good. I’ll accept your proposal, but don’t expect to earn your freedom—or Alara’s for that matter—anytime soon.”
“Not so fast,” Ethan said. “I have a few conditions.”
Brondi laughed. “You’re not in a position to be setting conditions, Ethan!”
“You agree to keep your crew away from Alara until she’s released. If not, there’s nothing to motivate my cooperation.”
“Hmmm . . . protecting your virgin bride, are we? Very well. I’ll accept those terms. You can head up a new squadron of novas—made up of the sentinels I captured.”
Ethan blinked. “You’re skriffy if you think you can convince vanguard sentinels to fight for you.”
“I don’t need to convince them, Ethan. I’ll just have them chipped, strap them in their novas, and launch them into space. You can train them to make sure I’m not wasting valuable ships.”
Ethan grimaced and shook his head. “Fine, whatever, but I have one more condition—I want some guarantee that you really are going to release Alara and disable her slave chip.”
Brondi smiled thinly and walked up to Ethan. He turned to the larger of the pair of guards flanking Ethan and said, “Make him kneel.”
Ethan felt strong hands forcing him to his knees. He hit the deck with a grunt, and Brondi took a fistful of his short hair, yanking his head back. “How’s this for a guarantee—if you don’t fly for me until I’m satisfied that you’ve paid your debts, then I’ll have every man on this ship take full advantage of Alara’s slave chip.”
Ethan’s face went bone white.
“If she lives through all of that, you can have her back, and I’ll even deactivate her chip for you. Then I’ll set both of you free, because living with the aftermath of everything that happened to the woman you love will destroy you better than I ever could. You won’t even be able to look at her again, and she’ll kill herself before long.”
“You’re a sick kakard, Brondi,” he said quietly.
Brondi’s gaping grin returned. “Thank you.” He slapped Ethan on the back. “Welcome to the Netherworld. To answer your earlier question, you can call me the Devlin.” Brondi leaned close to whisper in Ethan’s ear, “And you’re mine now.”
* * *
Despite the hypnotic effects of the light sculpture, Atton hardly slept all night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the admiral’s hidden lift tube, and wondering what was down there. In those odd hours when he did drift off to sleep, his dreams were filled with a nameless dread.
What was Hoff hiding?
Now, after what felt like an endless night, he couldn’t lie in bed any longer. A quick look at the glowing blue digits on the comm suite beside his bed showed that it was only 0520, but he had to get up.
Atton took a quick vaccucleanse and forwent his steam-cleaned uniform in favor of a fluffy white robe and matching slippers which he found in the closet. Now the comm suite showed almost six hundred hours. Atton keyed open the door and crept out into the darkened hall. The light paintings hanging on the walls cast ominous shadows. He turned the corner and began to hear hushed voices.
He wasn’t the only one awake.
Atton reached the end of the hall and waited there. He heard whirring servos and saw the admiral’s gleaming white server bot, HTX4, busy in the kitchen. Atton shrank back against the wall so the bot wouldn’t see him, and then he overhead his mother say, “Don’t try to turn this around on me! I do trust you. You’re the one who doesn’t trust me enough to share your secrets.”
“Really? So accusing me of hiding a pleasure palace below decks is trusting me?” HTX4 went whirring by with a steaming tray of caf and pancakes. Atton’s mouth watered, but he forced himself to focus on what the admiral was saying. “What was Atton doing out in the garden last night?”
“Didn’t he tell you? He couldn’t sleep, so he went to get some fresh air.”
“And I suppose he thought it might be fun to get lost in the silverleafs.”
“I don’t know—why don’t you ask him?”
“I did. He said it looked like part of the garden to him.”
“You see?”
“No, I don’t. I think you told him to go there and see what he could find.”
“You know what? I’m getting very tired of these interrogations. If your XO is allowed to know what you’re hiding, why can’t I?”
“He’s sworn to secrecy on pain of death, Destra. I cannot say the same for you.”
“Why not? You’d probably kill me if I found out, anyway.”
“Don’t insult me, Destra. I don’t kill my family to keep them quiet.”
“What are you doing?” a small voice asked. Atton almost jumped into the kitchen.
He turned and saw a little girl blinking up at him. “Oh—hello, Atta.”
She had bad timing. HTX4 returned from the living room in the same instant that Atton replied. The bot overheard, and his blue photoreceptors swiveled and winked as they focused in on the hallway.
“Hello, Master Atton! And dear little Atta! I didn’t notice the two of you there.”
Suddenly the conversation in the living room stopped, and Atton heard footsteps. Hoff appeared in the entrance of the kitchen. “Good morning, Atton.”
“Good morning, Daddy!” Atta said.
“Hello, dear. Why don’t the two of you come join us for breakfast. There’s pancakes, and fruit juice in the living room”
“Oh, yay!” Atta said. “I love pancakes.”
She raced by Atton, but he stayed where he was, and his gaze never left Hoff’s face. “I could use some caf to wake up,” he said slowly.
“I’ll get you some right away!” HTX4 replied, whirring into action.
“Still couldn’t sleep after the tea?” Hoff asked as Atton started through the kitchen.
“Not very well, no.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Atton didn’t believe Hoff was ever sorry about anything, but he kept that to himself. When Destra saw him walk into the living room, she looked up and smiled hesitantly.
Atton returned her smile. “Hello, Mom.”
“Hello,” she said.
“Please, take a seat, Atton.” Hoff gestured to an empty arm chair opposite the one where he was headed. Atta was already seated beside her mother on the couch, helping herself to a pair of large pancakes.
Atton sat down and eyed Hoff across the black chrome coffee table. HTX4 whirred up to him with a steaming cup of caf. “I forgot to ask how you like it, Master Atton.”
Atton waved a hand. “Black is fine.”
“Very well. Here you are, sir.”
Atton accepted the steaming cup and took a careful sip. His eyes never left Hoff’s. The admiral stared back just as unwaveringly.
Destra looked up to see the interplay between them, and she cleared her throat. “Did you get some sleep after all, Atton?”
“No.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“How about you, Hoff?” Atton asked.
“I slept like a baby,” he said, smiling as he retrieved his own cup of caf from the coffee table and drained the cup. “But now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to the bridge.” Hoff’s eyes darted to Destra, who was pretending to be preoccupied with her food and Atta. “I’ll be back for lunch.”
“Bye, darling,” Destra said, not looking up from her plate.
Hoff didn’t bother to return her sentiment as he walked away. Atton’s eyes followed him to the doors. As soon as they’d swished shut, he turned back to his mother and shook his head. “Hoff’s XO can know his secrets, but you
can’t?”
She looked up with a wan smile. “I wondered how much you’d heard.”
“Enough. More than enough. Destra—Mom—what kind of man or officer puts his subordinates ahead of his wife? You should come first.”
“I know that, Atton.”
“Then?”
“Shhh. We can talk more about this later.” Destra’s eyes darted to Atta. Her small brow was furrowed and her pancakes lay forgotten on her plate.
“What don’t you know about, Mommy?”
“Nothing, dear. It’s just a surprise Daddy’s planning—that’s all.”
“Is it a surprise for me?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting hopefully.
“Well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we? Eat your food, Atta.”
“Okay.”
“If you’re a good girl, you’ll get your surprise.”
Atta nodded, her mouth already stuffed full of pancakes. Atton watched treacle dripping down Atta’s chin, and he couldn’t help but smile. He reached for a napkin on the tray between them and handed it to her. “Here,” he said.
“Thanks,” she replied, almost spitting half-chewed pancakes at him.
Atton turned back to his mother and his eyes hardened once more. “We need to talk.”
“In a minute, Atton.”
“No, we need to talk now.”
Destra sighed. “Atta, you stay there, okay? I’m just going to go outside for a moment to speak with your brother.”
“Okay . . .” she said. “Can I come outside when I’m done?”
“No, dear. Stay there. I’ll come back when we’re done talking. It’s a grown-up conversation.”
“I’m a grown-up, too!” she insisted. “I’m seven,” she said, holding up the appropriate number of fingers.
Destra smiled. “Of course you are.”
“So why can’t I hear?”
“You remember what Daddy told you about where babies come from?”
Atta’s nose wrinkled. “Yes . . .”
“Atton has a question about that.”
“Oh. That’s okay. You can talk without me then.”
Destra smiled. “We’ll be back in a minute.” She led the way through the living room to the dining room and from there to a pair of doors which led out to the garden. The doors parted with a swish, and Atton noted that the artificial sky over the garden was now bright and pale blue. A bright red sun sat close to the horizon, and Atton was surprised that he could actually feel the warmth in its rays. The grass and the silverleaf hedges seemed to glow and sparkle in the sunlight. It took a moment for him to realize that the sparkle was from dew which had condensed out of the air overnight. He shook his head, astounded by the depth of the illusion which Hoff had created.
“Well?” Destra demanded, drawing Atton’s attention away from the scene.
His mother stood with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for him to explain himself. “You realize that you need to find out for her sake, too, don’t you? Whatever he’s hiding, it could be something dangerous.”
Destra hesitated, but at last she conceded that with a nod. “I know.”
“It’s his own fault. He shouldn’t have secrets. Not from you. But you can blame me for discovering them if you want. I don’t mind.”
“I need some time to think about it.”
“Don’t take too much. The clock’s ticking. It started the day we were forced to pack our bags and leave for Dark Space, and it hasn’t stopped running down since. The time for secrets is over. We need answers. There’s a reason the Sythians invaded, Destra, and I’m willing to bet that someone, somewhere, already knows what that reason is.”
“You think that . . . Hoff knows about that?”
“Why is he so suspicious of the Gors? Why is he their enemy number one besides the Sythians? Why does no one know where his enclave is? What is he hiding there, and does it even exist?”
“Well, I’ve been to the enclave, Atton.”
“What about the lost sector? Have you been there?”
“The enclave is getting supplies from somewhere.”
Atton shook his head. “So why set up an enclave for refugees when there’s already a place for them where they would be safe?”
“Hoff says that the only way to keep the lost worlds safe is to keep them hidden—from everyone.”
“Everyone except for him—oh, and let me guess, his XO. As for his wife . . . well, she’s just there to warm his bed and bear his children.”
“Atton!” Destra’s eyes flashed with hurt.
“Good! Then you understand how absurd all of this is. Secrets divide us, and this is a time for humanity to stand together, not apart. It’s our only hope. If Dark Space is the enclave’s poorer cousin, we should all be there, or at the very least sharing the wealth. What point is there to keeping us in poverty?”
“I don’t know.”
“So let’s find out! No more hiding, Mom.”
Destra sighed. “I’ll help you find out, and you can tell me what you found. That’s the best I can do.”
“So your son’s the fall guy, is that it? I don’t think Hoff’s going to believe that I found out all on my own.”
“You were wandering his maze for hours last night. Maybe you found something. It’s plausible.”
“It’s thin.”
Destra looked away. “You’ll need an escape plan.”
Atton nodded. “The Tauron is about to drop out of SLS. If you could find a transport for me, I could blast out of here before the drives are even finished cooling for the next jump. I’d beat them to Dark Space.”
“It’s too soon. There’s not enough time. When we reach the entrance to Dark Space, we’ll have a better opportunity, and the Stormcloud Nebula will shield you from the Tauron’s scanners when and if you do have to leave.”
“Fine. When we reach Dark Space, then, but I’m holding you to that.”
Destra nodded and let out a long, slow breath. A moment later they were interrupted by the sound of something hitting transpiranium. They turned to see Atta with her face pressed up against the dining room window, making silly faces at them. When she saw her mother’s stern expression she giggled and ran away.
“Remember why you’re helping me,” Atton said, using Atta’s sudden appearance to cement his mother’s resolve.
“I should be doing it for myself, too . . .” Destra said. “A decade ago, I never would have pictured myself turning a blind eye to a man who’s keeping secrets from me. I never would have put up with that from your father.” Destra turned to him with a haunted look. “But after spending three years isolated and slowly starving to death on the dark, frigid netherworld that is Ritan . . . you get a new perspective on life. After that, you never take luxury like this for granted, and you’d do anything not to go through those horrors again.”
“You won’t have to,” Atton said. “I promise.”
“I’m afraid that’s a promise you can’t keep, Atton, but thank you anyway. Hoff’s lucky he can’t remember Ritan,” she said, giving an involuntary shiver.
That caught his attention. “What do you mean Hoff can’t remember it?”
Destra smiled and looked away quickly. “Oh . . . he hit his head. . . . He never really recovered from that. We should go back inside and finish eating.”
Atton nodded slowly. “After you . . .” He watched with thoughtfully narrowed eyes as his mother walked ahead of him, and suddenly he wondered if Hoff was the only one keeping secrets. . . .
Chapter 21
Admiral Heston stood at the bridge viewports while his XO kept watch at the captain’s table, just in case. Hoff wasn’t expecting trouble when they dropped out of superluminal, but it didn’t hurt for someone to have eyes on the grid. Even if they had been followed from Ritan, the Sythians’ slower ships wouldn’t be able to keep up.
The reversion countdown reached zero, and the bright swirl of SLS vanished, replaced with a stark, starry blackness. Master Commander Lenon Donali rep
orted, “All systems green, jump successful.”
“Scopes?” Hoff asked.
“Clear.”
“As far as we can tell, anyway.” Hoff turned away from the view with a grimace and walked back up to the captain’s table.
“Even if we were followed from Ritan, they must be at least four hours behind us now,” Donali said. “We’re safe.”
“Yes . . .” Hoff’s gaze turned to Roan, who stood in the furthest, darkest corner of the bridge, leaning against the wall. His gleaming black armor and the glowing red eyes of his helmet were unsettling to look at. Hoff shook his head and looked away. “All of those measures could be for nothing if the Gors give us away telepathically. For all we know, Roan is talking to an enemy fleet right now, and they’re using that connection to telelocate him.”
“Well, let’s find out, shall we?” Donali pressed a button on the captain’s table and a bright yellow overlay appeared, glittering like a cloud of stardust on the three dimensional grid. The overlay showed the spread of tachyon radiation in the immediate area, but there was only one wake-shaped wave drifting out from the Tauron. The size and spread of that wake were consistent with the wormhole they’d just opened to leave SLS.
“Maybe they really are on our side,” Donali said.
Hoff snorted. “And maybe I’m really a Sythian wearing a holoskin.”
“Are you, sir?”
Hoff glared at Donali until the commander turned back to the grid.
“Hoi—what’s that?” he whispered, pointing frantically.
Hoff turned to see a second, much smaller wave of radiation now spreading out from the ship. It dissipated quickly, but their recently-recalibrated scanners highlighted the dissipating wake and a moment later a yellow vector appeared, giving a direction for the tachyon burst which had caused the radiation. A shaded red sphere appeared around the Tauron, narrowing down the point of origin for that burst to within ten klicks. “Well, well,” Hoff said, tracing the vector with his finger. Since the point of origin could be anywhere inside a five klick radius, the vector was off by the same margin and the real line of communication could have been any of an infinite number of other vectors which lay parallel to the calculated one. But Hoff could already see that none of those lines would cross through both the Tauron and the Interloper. The telepathic burst could have begun on either the Interloper or the Tauron, but it wasn’t Tova and Roan communicating with each other. One of them had just sent an outbound message. “Roan!” Hoff roared.
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