The Ninth: Invasion (21 page)

Miss Carrero shuffled through her hand.  Robert and Mr. Riley were too far behind to consider.  She placed down a card and faced Cain.  She no doubt knew he was one away from victory.  Cain cautiously looked over his hand as he selected his card.  Miss Carrero’s ranged card had been stronger than Cain’s defending ranged card, leaving it with a power of two.  Cain studied the card closely as he added it to his hand.  Miss Carrero betrayed no emotion as she drew a card.  Cain attacked Mr. Riley.  Cain had an honest look of surprise when Mr. Riley used the card he had gotten from his latest draw.  While Mr. Riley’s reaction had informed the others it was a mêlée card, since no one had seen it yet, it was impossible to know its strength.  It was the same strength as Cain’s card, effectively wasting the turn.

Robert attacked Mr. Riley, only to fail and lose another of his mêlée cards.  Mr. Riley used his turn to attack Robert, but it was a bust as their cards had the same strength.  Once more it was Brent’s turn, and he knew it would be the last.  Cain was no doubt one shy of victory while Miss Carrero might be one or two away, depending on what she had drawn.  He looked down at his cards.  Selecting his last move, Brent put the card face down and nodded at Cain.  The troopers who knew what was going on held their breath.  The clueless ones watched, not realizing this might be the final move.

Cain pursed his lips.  Carefully he weighed his options as he eyed the face down card.  Finally, he made up his mind and gently placed his card.  Cain eyed Brent, still waiting for some sign as to the outcome, but Brent remained emotionless.  Together they slowly flipped over their cards.  Cain had used his ranged card with a power of two.  Brent had used his last ranged card as well, but over the course of the game he had whittled down its power to just one.  As Brent discarded his ranged card, Cain knew it was over.  It didn’t matter which card Brent picked, as his entire hand was filled with mêlée cards; his only ranged card was on the table.

“Congratulations!” Miss Carrero said as Brent picked one of Cain’s cards.

“Is it over?” Penny asked.

“Yep, and we all lost.”  Robert set his head down on the table.

“What are you so upset about?”  Mr. Riley gestured to the bartender for a drink.  “For once Master Hooten didn’t win.  I say that’s cause enough for celebration.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Cain said with a long grin.  “We were right behind him, weren’t we Miss Carrero?”

“Not close enough.  I suppose now I owe this young man some of my hard earned credits as well.”

“Never bet when you can’t afford to lose,” Mr. Springate said as he sipped his drink.

“I’ll drink to that.”  Mr. Riley nodded his glass toward the bartender.

“So, how much did Brent win?” Penny asked.

“Forty-two from me.”  Miss Carrero smiled at the girl.

“Thirty-four here.”  Cain started collecting the cards waiting to shuffle.

“Hold on.”  Robert studied his cards, counting in his head.  “Sixty-seven.  How did I do so badly?”

“Fifty-one and not a credit more,” Mr. Riley said with a smile.

“Not a bad haul.”  Cain started shuffling the cards as Robert tossed in his hand.

“Not bad?  Are you kidding?  He’s six short of two hundred even,” Angela said, leaning toward Cain.  “I wouldn’t mind having that kind of spending money.”

Cain smiled frostily at her as he started dealing.

“That’s it for me,” Brent said, standing up.

“Not going to give us the chance to win back our credits?” Miss Carrero asked.

“Perhaps tomorrow.  I did enjoy the game.  Thank you for joining at the last minute.”  Brent bowed like the tripod to Miss Carrero.

As soon as he finished, he realized what he’d done.  He fought the urge to smack his forehead.  Why couldn’t he just salute like the others?  Miss Carrero stared at him, obviously uncertain how to respond to the elaborate bow.  Before the embarrassment could set in, Penny abruptly jumped to her feet and dashed off down the corridor.

“Wonder what she’s up to?” Mr. Springate asked.

“Who cares?” Robert asked irritably.  “We going again?”

“I’m game,” Mr. Springate said, taking Brent’s chair.

Brent shrugged and started down the corridor.  Cassandra followed closely behind and tried to conceal a yawn.

“Was the game really
that
exciting?” he asked with a smile.

“What can I say?  I had no idea what any of you were doing.”

“You could have joined the others and gone through the 3P again.”

“Twice in one day?  I like it, but not
that
much.  Plus, I don’t think I’d be able to focus after what happened.”

“You’re not going to call me a pervert again, are you?”

“Maybe,” Cassandra said with a warm smile as her cheeks reddened.

“Just don’t make a habit out of it.  Kindra is probably either apologizing to Sanderson or driving him insane as we speak.”

“I’d forgotten about them.”  She laughed to herself.  “You have to admit the nickname suits him perfectly.”

“I suppose, but remember sunburn Sandra hits the mark pretty closely, too.”

“Point taken.  You know, it’s not fair.”

“What?”

“That you can call me names at any time you want, but you don’t have a single nickname.  Good or bad.”

“I never thought about it.  You could always call me, sir.”  Brent winked.

“Not going to happen.”

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

“So many options . . .”  Cassandra put her finger to her temple and pretended to be deep in thought.

“Like Cain said, it’s a trade ship, not a luxury liner.”

“Brent?”  She paused in the corridor and grabbed his hand.  “You haven’t forgotten there is a war going on out there have you?”

“Not at all.”  He patted her hand reassuringly.  “Things are probably going to get very difficult and dangerous.  That’s why I want everyone to enjoy the next two days as much as possible.”

“Easier said than done on this ship.”

“I don’t know about that.”  Brent pulled her close.  “I think it all depends on the company you keep.  The where doesn’t matter so much as the who.”

Cassandra blushed and kissed him on the cheek.

“That’s either the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard . . . or you’ve gone stir crazy.”

They both started laughing as they returned to the bunks.  He noticed Penny standing casually outside the doorway.  It was obvious she was trying to act natural while she was really up to no good.  Humphrey was wedged in his bunk attempting to read something on his pad.  Doug was in his bunk and was already starting to fade into sleep.  Cassandra quickly climbed the ladder up to her bunk.  Brent noticed Marie leaning against a wall, an equally suspicious look on her face.  The girls had something planned.  He quickly looked around for their third accomplice, but couldn’t find Hiroko anywhere.

“What the . . . is this some kind of joke?” Cassandra asked from the top of the ladder, peering into her alcove.

Marie started to chuckle as Brent locked his gaze on her.  She returned his stare as her chuckle grew louder.  With a start, he quickly checked his own bunk.  To his surprise, he found it missing.  The metal alcove was only half as deep as it had been that morning.  As Cassandra climbed down the ladder she shot a glance at him, h could only motion to the chuckling Marie.

“Funny, really funny,” Cassandra said with a small sigh.  “Now where am I supposed to sleep?”

Penny quickly entered through the doorway as Marie bounced off the wall with a grin.  Marie took Cassandra’s hand as Penny took his.  Together the two girls led the pair down the corridors.

“Where are you taking us?” Cassandra asked irritably.  “Isn’t it a bit late for a tour of the ship?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Penny said, trying not to giggle.

Eventually, the two girls guided them to the cargo bay.  The
Protectorates were already standing in formation, waiting their arrival.

“Is everything set?” Penny asked.

“We may not be troopers, but we were taught by one.”  The Protectorate nodded to Brent.  “Everything is as you requested.”

He and Cassandra exchanged confused glances as the girls led them to the far corner of the cargo bay.  As they got further from the entrance, Brent noticed the citizens started to thin out.  By the time they reached the edge of the bay, he realized the citizens had been arranged in such a manner as to create an empty space around the corner.  Releasing their grip, the two girls turned to face the pair.

“Ta-da!” the girls shouted in unison as they gestured toward the corner.

Along the wall were massive alcoves where large freight was usually stored.  To his amazement, one of the ground level cargo slots was covered by some kind of curtain.  The slot was easily larger than the entire room of bunks had been.  With a swift, obviously practiced, movement, Marie opened the curtain.  Cassandra instantly flushed red.  Behind the curtain was a single large bed.  It was crudely constructed, most likely made from whatever the Protectorates could find around the ship.

“What is the meaning of this?” Cassandra asked, without taking her eyes off the bed.

“I’d think that would be obvious,” Penny said with a smirk.

“We know all about what happened in the 3P between you two.”  Marie had a confident smile on her face.  “We thought we’d give you some . . . alone time.”

“You can’t be serious!”  Cassandra’s face was steadily reddening.

“We figured you would protest, so we took precautions,” Marie said with pride.  “You don’t have a choice.  We locked down your bunks.  Unless you plan on sleeping on the floor, this is your only option.”

“But . . .”

Without another word, the two girls grabbed the stunned Cassandra and pushed her behind the curtain.

“Now you two behave.”  Marie bowed to Brent like the tripod.  “On second thought, scratch that.”

Marie winked to him as the two girls quickly rushed out of the cargo bay.  He noticed the Protectorates had created a ring around the corner.  Each one had set up their sleeping situation at the parameter to ensure the two weren’t disturbed.  Brent shrugged as he closed the curtain behind him.

“You can’t seriously plan on giving in to them?” Cassandra asked nervously from the far side of the bed.

“They certainly thought this whole thing out.  The Protectorates are creating a buffer around us.  I doubt we’ll be disturbed until morning.”

“You didn’t answer my question!”

“Don’t jump to conclusions or start name calling yet,” Brent said as he suppressed a yawn.  “I already planned on sleeping on the floor.”

“Really?” Cassandra asked while twiddling her thumbs.  “You did that last time.  Shouldn’t it be my turn?”

“I didn’t know we were keeping score.  In any case, don’t worry about it.  I’ll just grab a blanket and a pillow.  It’ll probably be more comfortable than our filing cabinets anyway.”  He chuckled to himself as he reached for a pillow.

Cassandra quickly moved and held his hand still.

“You don’t have to, you know.”  She averted her eyes.

“I already said it was fine.  I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I made you sleep on the floor.”

“I don’t mean that.”  Cassandra paused.  “You could . . . share the bed with me.”

“You sure about that?  Weren’t you the one protesting the idea of giving into the girls?”

“Well, we don’t have to
do
anything.”  Her face was a deep scarlet.

“Are you sure?  The floor is fine by me if it’s embarrassing for you.”

“If you don’t want to embarrass me, then stop asking.”

Cassandra released him and started preparing her half of the bed, making sure not to make eye contact with him.  He accepted her statement and didn’t press any further.  Plus, if anyone asked they could always say he slept on the floor; no one need ever know.  With a yawn, he got to work on his side.  Checking his pocket watch, Brent was surprised at how late it was.

“What’s that?” Cassandra asked, a hint of trepidation in her voice.

“It’s a gift from Davis.  It’s a pocket watch.”

“A
Master Weaver
gave
you
a gift?” she asked cautiously.  “Never seen anything like it before.  What does it do?”

“It tells time.”

“That’s it?” she asked with more than a hint of relief.  “Couldn’t you use your pad for that?”

“I suppose, but somehow it feels right to use the watch instead.”

“Would you mind turning around?”

“Of course!  Sorry.”

Brent quickly turned his back on Cassandra.  He could hear the sounds of her changing.  He tried not to chuckle as he imagined the embarrassed look that had to be on her face.  He wondered exactly how red her cheeks were.  His amusement faded as his mind conjured images of the curves that hid under her unflattering fatigues.

“All done,” she said in a small voice.

“You know,” he said without turning toward her, “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor if this bothers you so much.”