Grimspace (16 page)

I sneak out like I'm leaving the scene of a crime.

As I dart into my quarters, part of me feels that I am, actually. I know it doesn't mean anything, and it doesn't touch what I felt for Kai. Because I'm alive, and I'm a biological organism, I know I need to be touched, but that awareness doesn't assuage my guilt. In some ways I think it would've been better if I'd picked Hon for some throwaway sex because I wouldn't have to see him on a daily basis hereafter.

In fact, I'm not entirely sure why March cared whether I slept with Hon. Maybe it's a man thing, which is stupid. It's not like I'm untouched. Between my marriage breaking down and falling in love with Kai, I did my share of fucking around.

But there was no premeditation with Kai; one night we were drinking and dancing, right after we tagged the beacon nearest the Belsev system—and he asked me how come we'd never slept together. He knew most jumpers and pilots do test the waters at least once, so he was wondering if I didn't find him attractive. That certainly wasn't the case; he was adorable, blond boyish good looks.

I didn't have an answer, so after some more drinking, we wound up naked. And it was fantastic. He was fun in bed, playful, but his best quality had to be how he listened. When he propped his chin on his hand and gazed at you with those liquid green eyes, you knew you were the only person in his world right then.

God, I miss him.

He certainly wasn't your typical man. Sometimes I'd try to make him jealous, point out someone I thought was delicious, and he'd give me a deceptively mild smile. “Go ahead,” he'd say. “Try someone else if you want. But he won't be me.”

No, baby. He'll never be you.

First time we talked about commitment, he said, “I don't believe in that, Siri. People stay true as long as they
want
to, regardless of spoken promises or legally imposed obligations. But we're good together, and I want to be with you as long as you want me back.”

I meant to clean up, but instead I drop down on my bunk, startled by the yearning that overtakes me. Who knew sex would make me feel so fragging lonely? There's a dull throb inside me, the ache of long-unused muscles, and I press my knees together, trying to forget what I've just done.

If I let myself, I could cry, but I've done far too much of that in the last few weeks. Instead, I measure my breathing until the urge subsides; and then I do take that shower, washing away the evidence. Maybe this is no revelation, but it feels like one to me; good sex just isn't enough. I won't do that again for a while.

I dress in somber clothing that covers me neck to ankle, permitting no glimpse of skin. Now I'm not sure what to do; I don't want to sleep with Hon anymore, but I imagine he's not a man who handles rejection well, not that he receives much of it. Still, I'm not accomplishing anything cowering in my quarters, so I head out.

Although I know it's beyond idiotic, I can't help skulking, peeking around doorways, then making a dash for the engine room, where I find a spare remote. I pocket that. I'd like to avoid March for the next five to ten turns. Failing that, a day or two will suffice. I retrace my steps, and I'm surprised to find the door out of the docking bay opens for me automatically. I guess it's been coded to recognize me, a measure I didn't expect so quickly, and it makes me wonder what Hon's planning.

To my surprise, the party seems to be over. I would have guessed such things went on all night; shows what I know. There's just a few scruffy spacers left playing Charm, and they peer at me over their cards.

“Looking for the boss?” One of them smirks at me.

Might as well get it over with, right? So I nod. “Know where he is?”

“Yeah, he took the blond girl upstairs.”

“The one who arrived with us?” I try to conceal my astonishment. There's a development I never saw coming, but then again, something about Hon…damn. Though I've made up my mind to stay off men, literally and figuratively, I'm still tempted, remember his smoky-spicy scent.

He nods. “You want us to deal you in?”

“That depends. You playing by Venice Minor rules?”

Dumb question, I know. Men rarely play Charm by Venice Minor rules unless they're competing against women. There's just no motivation to seeing each other naked, except in specialized circles. But I don't have any creds to wager. I bet my accounts have been frozen, and trying to access them would send up a red flag.

The men exchange a look and start laughing, then the spokesman answers, “Well, we
weren't
…”

I shake my head. “I'd rather look around. Will restricted areas be inaccessible or clearly marked?”

“Yeah, you won't be able to go anywhere you're not supposed to be. Be careful, though, we don't use the third deck, so no telling what's up there.”

Nodding, I follow the corridor leading in the opposite direction. His mention of a third deck gives me a sense of the station's design, however, and I envision the slow revolution of each tier, creating gravity that keeps my feet on the floor. To my surprise, a large space past the throne room appears to be a library. Hon even possesses some ancient ink-and-paper books, though those are housed within a protective case.

“Find what you're looking for?” I spin to see Dina standing in the doorway. She doesn't
look
like she's been ravished, though.

I spare a moment to give thanks that she didn't see me slipping out of March's room. Mary knows, I'd never live that down. “I don't know what that'd be.”

She offers a faint smile. “Nobody ever does until it's gone, then they realize they had it all along.”

Depressing but insightful.

“The rovers told me you went upstairs with Hon.” A nice, noncommittal statement, and yeah, okay, I'm dying to know but I won't
ask
. That would be rude. Wouldn't it?

At that she laughs. “Yeah, there's a bazaar on the second deck. I'll be heading back later with some trade goods so we can restock the kitchen-mate. The ‘kingdom' runs primarily on barter.” She lifts a brow. “You didn't think—”

“Of course not,” I say quickly. “But…well, he
does
smell good…”

Dina rolls her eyes. “Male pheromones don't work on me. Now if he sprayed himself with bitch-in-heat, he might get somewhere.”

Pheromones?
Was that the smoky-spicy scent? Here I thought it was Hon himself who put me in the mood…and then I wound up on top of March—
ah, shit
. I want to cringe, but I refuse to give Dina any ammunition. Since I told her about Edaine, there's been a sense of amnesty between us, but I won't tempt her to break the cease-fire.

“Right. Guess I'll go check out the bazaar. Which way?”

“Follow the hall left, first right, down at the end is the lift. It's a bit temperamental, though.” As I head out, she adds, “Be careful, Jax. Hon's being too cooperative, and men like him aren't prone to forgiveness. I feel like we're sitting in the eye of the storm.”

I flash a half smile over my shoulder. “How's that different from any other day?” Then it occurs to me, she may be able to answer the question that's been bugging me since we docked, so I turn around. “What's the deal with March and Hon anyway?”

She shrugs. “I've been part of his crew maybe five turns now. He hired us out of Gehenna, right out from under another captain.”

When she says “us,” she must be talking about Edaine and the other pilot, which means March stopped flying quite some time ago. I wonder why that is, not that I'll inquire, seeing as I'll be avoiding him for the next month or so, at least. Now that I glimpse the big picture, Dina's been through a hell of a lot.

“Made a better offer?” I ask.

“We thought so, a cut of every job, not just flat wages. Anyway, maybe Loras knows; he's been with him the longest. Or you could try asking March.”

I snort. “Yeah…' Cause he's so forthcoming.”

“Ask Hon. I bet he'd tell you.” Dina smirks, sauntering down the hall toward me.

“I think you may be right. And that worries me.”

“Me being right or Hon being willing to answer your questions?”

Pausing, I try to put my finger on what's bothering me. “Both?” I flinch when she slams her fist into my shoulder, playfully. This woman could kick my ass one-handed. “No…Hon, I think. His attitude strikes me as wrong somehow. You're right; he's too accommodating.”

She sighs, plainly agreeing with me. And that's a first. “Well, you know what they say, sweetness. When you get a bad feeling, collect your creds and jump.”

I nod. “Yeah, we need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

But as Hon comes down the hall toward me, smiling like he's won a raffle, I think that may prove easier said than done.

I am toured out.

Hon has shown me around, although I haven't seen his suite, and I thought that would be our first stop. Maybe I just overestimated his interest? Mary knows, it's not like I'm irresistible, but the juxtaposition bothers me. He's gone from amorous, aspiring lover to gracious guide in three hours, and that's just…not right.

Anyway, the back portions of the first two decks are allotted to housing, but I have no idea what an apartment here looks like. So I've duly admired the hydroponics garden, his extensive library, which he's had Canton Farr cataloging for the last two turns, and of course, the oddly intriguing bazaar, where permanent residents trade among themselves. Raiders have to do
something
when they're not raiding.

I particularly like the artists' section of the promenade. It's a touch of elegance I hadn't expected in such a place, but I suppose it's human nature to want to adorn one's living space, and when you're isolated, your best recourse is to tap your own creativity. So I commend the bold paintings and metal sculptures and various oddments.

There's even a dark-skinned woman, shaven completely bald, demonstrating the ancient art of the glass-dancer. Her movements flow smooth as the delicate treasures she creates from base chemicals, a sensual symbiosis of form and function. As I watch her, I think this ritual surely harks back to our Lady of Anabolic Grace, whose very name symbolizes the sanctity of change.

“Who is she?” I ask, admiring her.

“A priestess,” Hon tells me, and leads me on.

Somehow I'm not surprised, and I cast a look over my shoulder. The artist dances, oblivious to onlookers, and I know I have never passed closer to Mary's grace than this moment. Of course there are more mundane vendors, selling refurbished droids, PAs, used clothing, footwear, hacking codes, weapons, oh, yeah,
lots
of those. There's a whole aisle of stalls devoted to them: shocksticks, blades, sappers, you name it, you can find it here, but the trick is finding something the seller wants in exchange because in Hon-Durren's Kingdom, they don't deal in creds. If this lay beneath an open sky, it would remind me of the starport market at Gehenna.

We stop last at the food stalls, just a couple really, people offering fresh fruit and vegetables, bread and wine. I don't know what they want in exchange, but when Hon stops by, they offer food and libation freely. Well, he
is
the king, after all.

I take a sip, more Parnassian red. Good stuff, but I don't let it go to my head this time. He still smells wonderful, but now that I know it's a chemical effect, I find him easier to resist. Plus, I've gotten laid recently, which doesn't hurt.

“So what happened between you and March anyway?” Dina said he'll answer me. Maybe he will.

He shrugs. “A woman, years ago, she chose him over me.”

“Why in Mary's name would she do that?” I blurt the question before I stop to think about it, but fortunately he's flattered, giving me the wide, white smile that shines with gold. I mean, comparing the two, there's no contest, because Hon is gorgeous.

“Don't know, don't care. That was a long time ago.” Now why doesn't that ring true? Dina's right, men like Hon don't forgive and forget. “Let me show you this, Sirantha Jax…”

I follow him, still thinking about why. And then I know. Makes me grin, imagining him using his gifts that way:
My great passions? Why, Somalan ale, antique beaded tapestries, and white-maned Old Terran ponies. Yours, too? How astonishing! It's like we're soul mates…

March, you're such a bastard.

But I'm smiling as I continue Hon's infinite tour.

They've actually created a stable society, although they're short on women. If they got an influx from a failing colony somewhere, they'd soon start filling up all the empty places on station. I wonder what kind of future Hon sees for his people, and yes, although we mock him quietly for his ego, he's carved out a small place in the universe that's unquestionably his own, not an easy undertaking. And it doesn't lessen the achievement that his fief is rusted, badly in need of repair, and smells of hydraulic fluid.

“What you think?”

And I'm able to say truthfully, “It's a remarkable accomplishment.” But to test my theory regarding his strange shift, I add, “Well, I appreciate your time, but I'd better get back to the ship.”

He nods, his dark eyes inscrutable, and that's when I'm sure something's wrong. Because he hasn't asked me what emergency demanded my attention earlier. I feel the weight of his gaze as I make my way to the lift, trying not to break into a dead run while he watches me. I've never been very good at cat and mouse.

As soon as I'm out of sight, I sprint, and by the time I reach the docking bay, I have to press my hand against my side to try to soothe the stitch. I don't need to locate the remote, though. The boarding ramp descends as I approach the
Folly
.

Great, someone's been watching for me.

I'd lay odds as to whom, but I don't have the creds to back up my guess, so I simply dash up the loading ramp, make a hard right, and continue into the hub, where I startle the shit out of everyone but March. His dark eyes look like I've stolen something from him by creeping out as if he's my dirty little secret, but I can't worry about that now.

“Dina, did you get the supplies yet?”

She shakes her head. “Still assembling stuff to trade for the base organic to power the kitchen-mate. It's hard knowing what they're going to want. They don't seem to lack for anything, which is interesting, given their isolation.”

“Hon said they make trade runs to other outposts in the Outskirts, in addition to hijacking Corp freighters.” How that information helps us, I don't know.

“We have enough nutri-paste to make it to Gehenna,” Loras offers. “We can restock there if we must.”

Yeah, that's a bright side.

At least Loras isn't mad at me anymore. We're back to the lukewarm efficiency he offers me and everyone else. I wish I had a clue what makes him tick, but there's no time for that, either.

“Wherever we go, we need to get out of here. Like ten minutes ago.”

March finally speaks. “What's wrong, Jax?”

I'm going to sound like I'm crazy.

“I…don't know,” I mutter finally. “Something.”

“What makes you think that?” There's no hint of the lover who held my hips and kissed me like he'd never tasted anything better in his life. I'm grateful for his discretion; I truly am. He must've written it off, as I have, as an interlude that should never be repeated. So I guess the awkwardness I feared will never emerge since we're pretending it didn't happen.

“Well. Hon's being too cooperative…it's like he's stalling us.”

March raises a brow. “Anything else?”

“Well. He doesn't want to sleep with me anymore.”

Dina can't be expected to pass up an opening like that, and of course, she doesn't. “I'd think you would be used to that by now, Jax.”

They think I don't notice when March and Saul trade looks. I know what they're thinking—this is more manifestation of my paranoia. I'm flipping out here, just like I did when I thought March intended to kill me on Marakeq. And it's hard to believe they're entirely wrong. Maybe I have no intuition anymore; maybe I
am
just crazy.

Maybe I belong in that cell where they had me on Perlas.

Once, that would've drawn a look from March, maybe a whisper in my head, but there's only silence now, and that's exactly what I want. Right?

“That's pretty thin evidence,” Doc says gently. “Perhaps you need some rest. Regardless, we can't leave right this minute. We need some supplies, and we still need to figure out what kind of gift we're going to offer Hon. He's shown remarkable forbearance in permitting us to consult freely with Canton.”

That's just it, exactly. Why would he do that? He hates March; I deduced that much before I knew why. If he's being kind to us, then he's fattening us for the kill. But they don't seem to see it, except possibly Dina, who's lost so much that she probably feels a certain amount of fatal acceptance about such things.

I don't need rest. Mary forefend, it took us three weeks to get here. All I
did
was rest. But I realize there's no way I'm going to convince them, maybe not until it's too late. Anyhow, I may have screwed us all—Farr emerges from medical, crooning to baby-Z in low croaks. Shit, I didn't know he was still on board.

It feels like every muscle in my body locks with tension, waiting for him to announce his intention to rush to Hon and confide my suspicions. Then again, he's not a stupid man, and if he says that, we won't let him leave. My own thoughts make me dizzy, the way they loop, and I almost decide Doc's right. I'm incapable of thinking in a straightforward fashion anymore. There are too many monsters in my head.

Into the silence, Farr says, “You're right, and you've got to take me with you. I've been trapped for two turns, and I had all but resigned myself to the fact that I would die here. I didn't think anyone would come looking for me.”

“You want to go with us?” March asks, sounding cautious.

“Please. Hon will extend docking privileges to anyone who isn't Corp, but leaving…that's the thing. I'm surprised he hasn't filled your ear with talk of eugenesis.” Farr shakes his head and strokes baby-Z through the sling he's designed for carrying him. “Give him time. He's especially pleased that you brought a couple of new women.”

Dina arches a brow. “Why does that matter, apart from the obvious?”

“New breeding stock,” Farr says softly. “They're doing something dreadful up on third deck. I've only been there once, Hon doesn't know I know. I stole the access codes…” The scholar shudders. “You'd have to see it, and I'm sure it's worse now.”

Our chances of getting off this station without a fight just decreased exponentially.