Cleon Moon (35 page)

Alisa snorted. “I’m glad you’re taking this discussion seriously.”

“Trust me. You may prefer jokes when I get to the end.”

Wariness encroached. “Oh?”

Abelardus looked at the picture of the dead man. “The
chasadski
practice their dark powers in private for the most part, but they pop up from time to time, doing some callous act or another and ensuring that the system doesn’t forget that they exist. Much of the fear that exists today among the general populace is because of their acts. You see, they believe in the original Starseer mission, the one we had when we first left Kir and set out to take over the rest of the system.”

“Enslaving humanity?”

“Not
enslaving
. Ruling over. The way the emperors ruled over the empire. People with power governing over those without power.”

Alisa couldn’t see that ending up as anything other than enslavement for the majority of the population. It sounded even worse than the empire.

“The
chasadski
have been a small splinter group for centuries,” Abelardus said, “since the Order Wars nearly wiped our people out. But they’ve never gone away or forgotten their mission. They believe that if they can increase the number of Starseers in the system again, their goal could be accomplished.”

“But the rest of your people consider them pariahs, you said? So they wouldn’t join in?”

“They consider them boat rockers, making trouble for the rest of us. But… others do share some of their opinions. If it became clear that the
chasadski
had gained some significant advantage and that they could actually win if they made another attempt to take control of the system, more Starseers might join them.”

“Significant advantage?” Alisa asked. “Like that staff?”

“Like that staff. Add in the fact that the system is in a vulnerable state after the war, and they may believe the time is perfect for them to act.”

Alisa spread her fingers and rested her face in them. Three suns, why hadn’t she found a better hiding place for that staff? She had been negligent with it, indifferent. She hadn’t truly wanted it, and now someone who
did
want it had it.

“You suspected these people were behind this all along, didn’t you?” she asked, lowering her hand.

“I feared it was possible, yes. I wanted to hear from Naidoo before saying anything. I’d hoped there might be a less unpleasant explanation.”

“I understand why they would want the staff, but why attack that outpost? Why go after the prince?”

“Perhaps for the same reason the Alliance wants him out of the picture. To ensure that he can’t show up later, leading armies.” Abelardus tapped his fingers on the console. “It’s also possible they hope to capture him and use him, and perhaps the other children, as well. Mold their young minds to their purpose.”

Alisa closed her eyes. She had already worried about Jelena being indoctrinated into Starseer ways. This sounded even worse.

“You don’t know where their hideout or base is, do you?” she asked.

“No, and neither does Lady Naidoo.” Abelardus turned back toward the holodisplay. “I have more news you won’t like hearing.”

“What?”

Abelardus changed the display so the second man popped up, the one who had walked out with the staff. “This is someone else who hasn’t been seen much in the last thirty years, but Naidoo knew who he was.” He fell silent, merely gazing at her.

That uneasy feeling returned to her stomach. “What? Who is he?”

“Stanislav Schwegler.”

Alisa swallowed. Stanislav.

“It’s not necessarily the same person,” she said slowly, the dedication on the title page in her mother’s book burning in her mind. “It’s not—”

“Your father? We’d have to do a blood test to know for certain. I suppose we could go over those videos again and see if he left any blood spattered against the wall when the cyborg threw him around. Or maybe the doctor clawed at his eyes as he was being dragged out and got some skin under his nails.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m being serious.”

Alisa stared at the picture floating in the air above NavCom, the gray-haired man with a tidy gray beard. Was there a resemblance to her? Was that her father? Was it possible? And if so, was he truly in this organization of which Abelardus spoke? If so, why would her mother have fallen for someone like that? Or maybe that was why they had broken up all those years ago.

“I’m getting us out of here,” Alisa said, sending her hands over the controls, somewhat comforted by the familiar routine, even if there was an odd little tremor to her fingers.

“Where are we going?”

“The doctor hasn’t told me yet, but somewhere with high-quality medical facilities, I’m sure.”

The
Nomad
flew away from the docks and over the city buildings. Alisa waited for a challenge to come over the comm when the freighter
approached the dome exit, but the forcefield lowered for them.

Abelardus raised his eyebrows as they sailed out without hassle. “What did the cyborg do to win that woman’s regard?”

Alisa resisted the urge to let her mind wander down labyrinthine corridors and into dark places. “I believe he was charming,” was all she said.

“A charming cyborg? Sounds alarming.”

“About as alarming as a charming Starseer.”

Alisa pointed the
Nomad
toward the sky, more than ready to leave the moon.

“Can you close that down?” she asked, nodding toward the image of Stanislav Schwegler hovering over the netdisc.

“You don’t want to sit there and gauge the family resemblance? I think I can see it in the nose.”

“
I
think you should be in sickbay with your brother, reading him bedside stories and chatting to him about the family.”

“He’s unconscious.”

“Perhaps news from back home will excite him enough to wake up.”

And once awake, Durant could tell her where Jelena had gone, and there would be no need to go hunting for medical facilities. Alisa dreaded the idea of inadvertently heading off in the opposite direction from where the children had been taken.

“Our home life was never that interesting,” Abelardus said, but he did close down his netdisc and leave NavCom.

Alisa let out a breath and tried to relax her shoulders. As the misty gray marshlands of the moon receded, she hit the comm button.

“Doctor?” she asked. “Have you decided on a route yet?”

“Arkadius,” came the prompt reply.

Alisa slumped. All the way back across the system to Arkadius? “None of Aldrin’s moons have the facilities you need?”

“It’s possible, but I know for certain that Arkadius has state-of-the-art medical facilities with all the latest equipment. It also crossed my mind that the people who took the staff might take it to the Starseer temple there, since it seemed to be the core of their civilization.”

“You’re the boss,” she said.

“I know
that’s
not true.” Alejandro cut the comm.

From what Abelardus had said, Alisa doubted the rogue Starseers would head to Lady Naidoo’s bosom. But maybe she was wrong. He
had
implied that some of his people might be talked into joining the cause if they had sufficient reason to believe it could work. Maybe the thieves would go home to recruit.

Alisa shivered at the idea of the system being controlled by people who could wave their hands and kill others—or put them into comas. If nothing else, didn’t she have an obligation to warn the Alliance about this new threat? Of course, the Alliance ships stationed on Arkadius would not be happy with her after she had appeared to ally with the Starseers against them. Would they listen to her now?

“When is my life going to get less complicated?” she muttered, glancing at the stuffed spider hanging over the passenger’s seat. There was nobody else there to talk to. “I just want to find Jelena, make chocolate with her, watch children’s vids together, and fly around the system delivering freight. Nice and simple. I’ll even deliver Beck’s chef’s mushrooms.” She didn’t mention Leonidas in her list of
just-wants
, afraid that might be wanting too much, right now. But she also did not plan on giving up on him.

The dangling spider did not comment.

The comm beeped again.

“Alisa?” Leonidas asked. “Would you join me in the cargo hold when you’re free?”

“Are you planning a date for us?”

He hesitated, and she worried he would remind her of his insistence that they
not
date, that he was too dangerous.

“I have something better for you,” he said.

“Oh? My curiosity is suitably piqued.”

A clang sounded over the comm.

“I’ll be here for a couple of hours,” he said.

“Be down soon.”

They were already heading into a low orbit, so it did not take long for the
Nomad
to clear the moon’s influence. Alisa set a course for Arkadius, turned on the autopilot, and strode toward the cargo hold, pausing in the mess hall on the way. Beck had several pots gurgling on the stovetop, and he bent over one, stirring vigorously. Yumi and Mica sat at the table, playing a game of Banakka on someone’s netdisc and discussing the merits of psilocybins. At least, Yumi was discussing them. Mica was silently planning her next move. Alisa wondered if Yumi had tried out her own recently made concoction yet.

“Has the doctor treated your wounds?” she asked Beck. Shouldn’t he be in sickbay instead of cooking? At least he had put on clothes—sort of. He wore his plaid pajama bottoms and a loose yellow shirt that reminded her of broken egg yolks.

“He said to stop by soon, and I will. I just had a couple of ideas I want to try out. I’m preparing a box of sauces to ship to Chef Leblanc from—where are we going?”

“Arkadius.”

“Arkadius. Yes, excellent. They have a reliable postal system. This could be my big break, Captain.”

Alisa would consider it a big break if their chat with the White Dragon brother panned out and the mafia stopped hunting him. She patted him on the back as she passed through.

More clangs drifted up from the cargo hold as Alisa stepped out onto the walkway. A chicken squawked and ran past her, heading for the mess hall.

“Escape artists,” she murmured, eyeing the coop in the corner.

When she reached the top of the steps, Alisa spotted Leonidas. He had changed out of his armor and into his exercise togs, and set up a makeshift gym, using some of Mica’s spare engine room parts for weights. He was kicking and punching a set of battered hover pads with enough ferocity and speed to have developed a sweat. The computerized equipment zipped around, making difficult targets, but he never failed to connect.

“Did you call me down here to watch you work out?” Alisa asked, ambling down the stairs.

“No.” He launched a final flurry of blows at the pads, then lowered his arms and turned to face her.

“Because I wouldn’t object, in case you were wondering.” She resisted the urge to openly admire his physique, since that reminded her too much of something that Solstice would do. Still, she couldn’t help but be aware of it as he grabbed a towel and a netdisc off a bench.

“I want to spend the trip training, in case we catch up with the Starseers who took the staff. Abelardus seemed to believe that would be a possibility. I don’t want to be knocked out and left for dead again.” He clenched his jaw and glowered at the deck in front of the hidden cubby. “While an invaluable artifact is stolen.”

Alisa rested a hand on his arm. She hadn’t considered how he must have felt when he woke up and learned the staff had been taken. Like a failure.

“I know the feeling,” she murmured. “I don’t know why I didn’t anticipate that there would be thieves—everyone wants that thing—and take stronger measures to protect it.”

“It wasn’t your mission,” he said, perfectly willing to forgive her even if he wouldn’t forgive himself.

She could feel the heat of his bare arm under her hand, the corded steel muscles. She was certain he hadn’t called her down to seduce her, alas. If she thought it would work, she would definitely try to seduce him. Or at least lick that vein snaking down his biceps.

“It’s my ship,” she said. “I could have had Mica set some booby traps.”

“I doubt booby traps would have stopped those men.”

Men. One of whom was possibly Alisa’s father. She opened her mouth, on the verge of telling him, when he lifted the netdisc.

“This is why I called you down,” he said. “To show you my bank account.”

“Oh? Are you going to impress me with your cyborg riches?”

Her hand fell away from his arm as he poked at the controls, but she stayed close, drawn to him, wishing he would also be drawn to her. One day, perhaps.
If
he pulled his head out of his ass and decided to find—or kidnap—help.

“Solstice transferred the money for the dinosaur heads into my account,” he said, turning the holodisplay so she could see the columns.

“Ah, you
do
have cyborg riches.” Riches that had come courtesy of Solstice. Alisa couldn’t tamp down a grimace. “You know that woman is going to expect a favor from you someday.”

She kept herself from implying it would be a sexual favor, because that would be admitting to her own insecurities. And captains didn’t do that. Not wise, mature, comfortable-in-their-own-skin captains.

Sometimes being mature was a pain.

“Very likely,” he said, no hint of disagreement in his tone. “But in the meantime, we can use this. You brought down one of those dinosaurs with me and, I heard, another one fell to your marksmanship after I left. I want to transfer you the money for those two so you can buy combat armor when we get to Arkadius.”

Her first instinct was to object, but she
had
shot those dinosaurs. And she did want combat armor. That sleek blue suit called to her.

“Thank you. That’s a good idea. Then I’ll be protected enough to walk across a battlefield. Or to sleep with you.” She grinned up at him, not entirely serious, but she supposed it would be one way to make the situation work. When Beck had been armored during their sparring sessions, he had walked away after Leonidas had hurled him across the cargo hold and into bulkheads. “After you have the surgery that you
will
have,” she added. She’d kidnap that admiral herself if she had to.