Jack of Harts 2.5: Wolfenheim Rising (15 page)

He tried not to wince in pain, and smiled back at the man who towered over him.  “Thanks,” he said through gritted teeth and meant every word of it.  It was actually high praise and he knew it.  He just wished it could come with a less painful accompaniment.  And that, of course, was another compliment of sorts.  Anderson was a powerful giant that had to use more control than even other ageless individuals.  The fact that he’d hit Malcolm hard enough to hurt meant he’d earned the man’s respect.  Once again, he wished that respect could be broadcast with a little less pain.

“We’ll make a proper pilot out of you yet,” the big Hawaiian boomed in amusement, wrapped one arm larger than most peoples’ legs around Malcolm, and very gently ushered him towards the hangar bay exit.  It was gentle because it didn’t hurt.  But Malcolm knew from experience that trying to go any other way would be about as effective as arguing with a boulder.  Anderson was truly the unstoppable force, and minor things like bulkheads and armored hatches learned to stay out of his way.

Lucky for Malcolm, Dawn came to his rescue.  Unluckily for him, it was only after she shared an amused smile with the other cyber.  But she finally did step her holoform up to the hulking man.  “I’m sorry,” she began in an earnest tone, “but Captain Wyatt has requested Mal’s presence on the bridge.  We should hurry.”

At the captain’s name, Anderson looked down at Malcolm and began to laugh.  Malcolm imagined that ancient gods would have envied the thundering expression of amusement powerful enough to shake him in his boots.  And then Anderson punched him in the other shoulder.  “Well, we’d best not keep her waiting, then,” the giant bellowed into the pain-filled silence and pushed Malcolm forward.

Somehow he kept his feet under him as he ran into the lift doors.  They opened to revealed Dawn’s true physical avatar waiting for him, and he had one split second to see her smile before she stepped smoothly out of the way.  The lift walls stopped him, expelling most of the air from his lungs.  He just stayed there for a bit, trying to breathe, as the lift doors closed and it began to move.

“How are you?” Dawn asked and stepped close enough he could feel her presence.

“Ow,” he answered and pushed himself away from the lift wall.  To his amazement, both arms still worked, despite the dull throb in them.  He worked them around, feeling twinges of pain, but nothing was ripped.  He’d survived.

“He can be a bit exuberant,” Dawn said in amused tones.

“You think?” he asked with a glare.  Her simple smile, mere centimeters away, robbed his glare of any strength it might have had.  He turned away to look at the lift doors and laughed.  He’d survived a run-in with an exuberant John Anderson.  And his fleet was finally on the last leg of their trip to the Pleiades Cluster.  This was a truly amazing day.

Dawn leaned against the wall beside him, still close enough he could feel the way the energy in the small area flowed around her.  With nothing else to watch or examine, he realized just how intensely aware he was of everything around him.  The colors in the lift’s control display appeared sharper and more in focus.  He could see the imperfections in the machined weld lines that linked the plates.  Everything seemed more alive.  He was still running on adrenaline, and he liked it.

The lift came to a stop, the doors slid open to either side, and he stepped into a guardroom, Dawn following mere centimeters behind.  Her presence was impossible to miss as she stepped up beside him.  But even following her every move, he was acutely aware of the two guards.  They measured him up and down, then examined Dawn, and nodded after coming to the conclusion that they weren’t mad assassins on the way to kill
Normandy’s
crew.

They waved Malcolm forward, and he walked through the armored hatch onto
Normandy’s
bridge, Dawn still following like she was glued to him.  Most of the crew held their attention on their displays, keeping to their duties, at least as long as they thought their “mistress after God” was watching.  She looked up as he walked in, and his eyes snapped to follow her progress.

“Malcolm,” Captain Olivia Wyatt said, her eyes examining him.

Malcolm aimed a broad smile at her and let his adrenaline speak for him.  “You wanted me?”

Olivia shook her head but smiled.  “I requested your presence,” she corrected.

“Potayto, potahto,” Malcolm repeated the age-old saying with a wave of one hand.

Olivia sighed and shared a long look with Dawn.  “Are you suffering from an adrenaline high?” she finally asked him.

“Oh, I’m not suffering at all.”  He shrugged.  “I’m enjoying it immensely.”

Olivia shook her head again.  “So I’m not going to talk you out of flying again?”

“No, Ma’am,” Malcolm said with gusto.

“You know it’s dangerous, right?” she asked, her tone full of caution.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he answered, looking straight ahead.

“Did you remember to wear your helmet?” she asked with a glare.

Malcolm blinked, realizing he’d never thought about that.

Olivia sighed and he saw her mouth one word out of the corner of his eye.  Men.

Dawn nodded in sympathy.

“Hey, you two,” Malcolm said in a commanding tone.  “No deriding me behind my back.”

“We would never do that,” Olivia said in a dry tone.

“Right in front of you is another matter entirely,” Dawn added without a perceivable pause.

Malcolm chuckled.  “Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.”

Dawn shook her head in mock sorrow.  “Not even the same book.  We’re reading Gone with the Wind and you’re reading John Carter.”

“Well, yeah,” Malcolm said with a shrug.  “It’s a good story.”

Olivia brought a hand up to rub her forehead.  “I swear you two argue more and more each day.”

“We don’t argue,” Malcolm protested, but Olivia just raised an eyebrow at him.

“We practice verbal sparring,” Dawn clarified with a helpful smile and Olivia turned the eyebrow on her.  Dawn met the eyebrow with total aplomb and no sign of retreat.

Olivia finally shook her head and muttered something about deserving each other.

“What was that?” Malcolm asked, wondering if he’d heard right.

Olivia turned back to him with one of those expressions that suggested he shouldn’t ask that again.  “I was wondering if you’d like to watch as we dive into the Pleiades Cluster.”

That certainly wasn’t what she’d said, but Malcolm wasn’t about to challenge that look.  So instead he aimed a gregarious smile her way.  “Why, I would love to.”

Olivia nodded, congratulating him on his wise choice.  “Then if you’d like to stand back there,” she said, waving towards the rear of the bridge with a hand gesture that took the request out of the words.

Malcolm followed her order without protest, walked back, and leaned against the bridge’s rear bulkhead.  A quick glance at Dawn showed her amusement with the whole situation, and then he turned back to watch Olivia moving amongst her bridge crew.  At each station, she paused to verify the systems it controlled were operating and whispered a word or two to the man or woman before going on.  She finished her rounds in minutes and gave the bridge another long look.

Once assured that nothing was going to fall apart in the next minute, Olivia walked back and leaned against the bulkhead next to him.  After a few seconds of scanning the bridge again, she leaned in close enough to override his mind with the smell of her last shampoo.  Strawberry.  “You know, that was a good speech out there,” she said very quietly.

Malcolm blinked as he pulled his mental attention from Olivia showering to speeches he’d made.  For a moment, his mind drew a complete blank.  Then it made the connection and he glanced at Dawn, who just smiled at him.  It had been a secure communication channel between him and Murphy, and he didn’t like that anybody else had been listening in.

Olivia pursed her lips and examined him.  “Does it bother you that I was listening?”

“Well, no,” he answered, not wanting to say that his senior captain had no business listening in on fleet business.  But as he said it, he felt the untruth.  It shouldn’t bother him, but it did, and he didn’t know why.

Olivia crossed her arms, obviously not buying his evasion, but she didn’t call him on it.  “So what’s her story?”

Malcolm let out a long breath, wishing he could answer her.  “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug.  Olivia arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him.  “Honest,” he protested.  “I don’t know her.”

“Right.”  Olivia bored into his eyes for several seconds, and he felt like she was scanning his deepest secrets.  It was bloody intimidating.  “So you never met her?”

“Well, we both grew up with the Hurst family.”  Olivia cocked her head to the side in interest.  “It’s a large family,” Malcolm explained.  “Lots of branches that have business interests everywhere humanity has been.”  At her skeptical look, he shrugged again.  “Honest.  I don’t know of a single major colony that doesn’t have at least one person representing the family.  Often that’s someone who isn’t really part of the family but was raised from childhood with them.”

Olivia nodded in comprehension, and he saw something click into place behind her eyes.  “So that’s where you come in?”

Malcolm spread his arms out wide and smiled.  “Got it in one.”  Then he shrugged.  “She came in like that too, I guess.”

“You
guess
?” Olivia asked, her tone skeptical.

Malcolm cleared his throat, acutely aware of how guilty that made him sound.  But he didn’t have anything to feel guilty about.  “She was younger than me by a lot.  Years.”  Olivia raised an eyebrow, and he cleared his throat again.  “That’s a lot to a kid!” he protested, and she relented.  “So anyways, I don’t remember her.  She was young enough, we didn’t hang out.”  Olivia didn’t speak, obviously picking up on the point that he wasn’t telling her everything, and he cleared his throat one more time.  If he didn’t stop that, she would
know
he was guilty of something.  “Her
sister
was another matter,” he finally admitted.

Olivia scowled at him.  “Oh.  You know you could have said that right away,” she noted, her tone stringent.  “What happened?”

Malcolm cleared his throat again, then sighed.  Now she really
did
know he was guilty of something.  “I was stupid,” he declared without reservation.

“Of course you were,” she said and he glowered at her.  She gave him the eyebrow again, and he released his glare.  She was right.  He
had
been stupid.  “What happened?” she repeated.

Malcolm shook his head.  “In what had to have been a moment of total and complete insanity, I dumped her.”

“Had to have been?” Olivia asked, her expression doubtful.

“It was a century ago,” Malcolm tried to explain.  “I don’t remember everything I did back then.”

Olivia crossed her arms.  “You know, a girl could ask that you at least remember why you dumped her.”

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm answered and let out a long breath.  “I was drunk.  I honestly don’t remember what happened,” he explained, meeting her gaze without reservation.  “All I know is that I dumped her and she never spoke to me again.”

“And now her younger sister is chasing you?” Olivia asked in pointed tone.

“Yeah,” Malcolm whispered.  “And not in the happy funtime way,” he joked.

Olivia frowned at him.  “Are you sure you don’t know her?”

“Yes,” Malcolm said in exasperation.  “Scout’s honor.”

Olivia pursed her lips and met his gaze for several seconds.  “Say her name.”

Malcolm blinked, then frowned at the request.  “Why?”

“Just do it,” Olivia snapped.

“Caroline!” he hissed in instant response to her order.

Olivia sighed and shook her head.  “I’m sorry.  Say it like you’re talking to her, please?”

Malcolm sighed.  He couldn’t refuse when she asked that way.  Besides, if he did, she’d think he had something to hide.  He cleared his throat, shut his eyes, and brought the face that had charged into a Shang fleet back to his mind’s eye.  “Caroline” he whispered, wondering once again what had possessed her to do that.  When he opened his eyes, Olivia and Dawn were sharing an intense look.  “What?” he asked, feeling defensive.

Olivia just smiled at him.  “Can you say her sister’s name like that?”  He frowned again and she waved a hand to dismiss his objection.  “Please,” she whispered and he relented.

Malcolm rubbed his temple.  The last time he’d seen her, she wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence.  He wondered again what he’d done that night.  “Dana,” he whispered.  There was nothing he could do now.  He shifted his gaze back to see shock on Olivia’s face.  “What?”

“Dana?” she hissed, her voice unnaturally high.  “Or
Danaka
?”

“Yes,” he answered in confusion.

Olivia licked her lips and shook her head to clear it.  “You dated
Danaka Murphy
?”

“Yes,” Malcolm answered slowly, her reaction filling him with concern.

Olivia’s gaze turned very, very hard.  “
Admiral
Danaka Murphy?”