The Phoenix Reckoning (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 6) (19 page)

“I don’t doubt the
Nighthawk
could do some serious damage in such a battle,” admitted Calvin. “But once we start taking fire, we’re done for. And then what will our sacrifice mean? We will not, by ourselves, turn the course of the battle, let alone the war. No, our place is not at the front, our place is deep inside Polarian Forbidden Space. We have to stop the enemy at home. Find out why the Dread Fleet has been sent at all and stop it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” said Summers, though she looked confused and disbelieving as to their ability to perform such a feat. Especially since she was, undoubtedly, armed with the knowledge that no expedition inside Polarian Forbidden Space had ever produced survivors. Still, Calvin had to try something. And, in his mind, this gambit was the only thing that made sense.

“Red shift,” he announced. “New course and heading. We go to Gemini System. Deepest safe jump.”

“Gemini?” asked Summers. “But that’s where the Dread Fleet is!”

“
Was
,” corrected Calvin. If he was right about these bastards, they will have scourged the system and moved on by the time Calvin could get there. With any luck, they will have left some signs as to their numbers and firepower, perhaps even other intelligence that he could feed the queen that might prove useful in humanity’s defense.

“We don’t know what we’ll find when we get there,” said Summers. “It could be anything.”

“It could indeed,” said Calvin. “Defense, keep our stealth system engaged. Pilot, get us underway as soon as possible.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” they both acknowledged him.

“And if we get there and the Dread Fleet hasn’t left?” asked Summers. “What is your plan? Do you mean to engage them?”

Calvin looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Are you mad? If we get there and they are still there, then we’ll observe them. And if there’s even the tiniest indication that they can detect us, despite our stealth, then we run like hell.
That
is the plan.”

***

As Shen walked the corridor, slowly rounding the path toward Sarah’s quarters, hoping not to catch her sleeping already, he reflected upon what had brought him here.

He had always liked Sarah. Their friendship had been a deep one, spanning many years, and somehow she had been the only person who consistently seemed to understand him, appreciate his jokes, and genuinely enjoy spending time with him. She could get him outside of his shell in ways that no other woman could—indeed, in ways no other person could.

And so, as had been inevitable all along from this, he had fallen head-over-heels in his feelings for her. Feelings that had haunted him day in and day out for over a year, urging him to make some kind of a move, to show her his affection. Yet his own weak confidence, punctuated by his less-than ideal physical appearance and general shyness, had planted doubts in his head. Not just seeds of doubts either, but a blossoming garden of doubts that had grown unrestrained throughout the entire year, and, as much as he wished again and again to take clippers to those vines and a spade to the plants and their deep roots, whenever he saw a picture of himself, or looked in the mirror, or saw Sarah seem to pine after Anand Datar, or Captain Pellew, or any number of men far more conventionally attractive than Shen, he had felt the wind in his sails fade away. And he had done what he always did, played the role of the good friend, and only in secret entertained hopeless fantasies that he and Sarah had something more, that they could have something greater. That, most implausibly of all, a woman like her would ever want—by choice—to be with a man like him.

Preposterous!
The very notion seemed absurd, ludicrous even. He knew his place in the social pyramid of humanity. He was the smart one, the geeky one, and every so often the funny one—with his rare brand of humor that only a few academically gifted minds understood—but he was never the desired one. He had been long relegated to the role of follower, supporter, and tag-along.

And then something had happened. Somehow, his feelings for Sarah had reached a point where he could no longer live them down; he needed to make them known to her once and for all, and so he had. By cooking her the most lavish dinner he knew how and by spilling his heart to her, letting the emotions ooze out in earnest like blood from a wound, hoping against hope—against probability—against even reality—that she could feel the same way. Not to his surprise, but to his profound disappointment, she had rejected him. Which, as he thought back on the experience, had been a foregone conclusion. She was higher up in the social pyramid and she had the beauty and charm to command more attractive features in a mate; she deserved, by accident of birth and hard work on her part, to become the other half of someone so much better, and so much more attractive than poor old Shen. That had simply been the truth of it.

Shen had rebelled against that truth. And, in doing so, questioned the value of his own life. If the cards of reality and genetics were to be so stacked against him that he was forced to live next to and work beside the very person his heart most desired, but could never touch her, take her, or demonstrate his feelings to her—and, most painfully of all, never experience her demonstrating those feelings toward him, then what was the point of going on?

And so Shen had volunteered to go with Calvin on the away mission to Remus Nine. That mission had introduced Shen to fear and horror like nothing he had ever experienced. And, in a moment of unthinking self-sacrifice, he had saved Calvin, an action that caused him to become bitten and receive the Remorii infection. It was a death sentence, but one Shen accepted peacefully.

Yet, against all reason, he had been given a second chance. Rain had cured him—mostly—and, although Shen retained, or had recently acquired, unique properties that made him feel less than human, or, at least, as something different than human, he still looked the same, had the same thoughts, remembered the same things, and retained the same talents. He was the Shen who had existed before—mostly. Only now he had abilities he could not understand and was haunted by dreams and visions of Tristan, always beckoning him to come and follow. Shen dismissed them as night terrors.

Things had seemed to be a blur after that. Shen had struggled to regain his feeling of humanity, thrashed within himself to find value in his life and to convince himself that he was a man and not a monster. And, during that struggle—which persisted to this day—he had made the greatest mistake of his entire life. Going down to Remus Nine and contracting the virus had been born of a kind of self-sacrificing, bold stupidity, he knew. But that was not his greatest mistake. His greatest mistake had been to push Sarah out of his life. Sarah, whose genuine compassion he had mistaken for pity. Whose sympathy he had mistaken for charity. She had come to him, ready to accept him, even offering to try to start a relationship with him—everything in the universe that he had ever wanted—and yet he had rejected her and pushed her away.

Now, that was going to change. And, although Rain had warned him he could not expect to win Sarah back—she was not a trophy or a reward—Shen could still clear the air between them and try to smooth out the waves he had created. Maybe then she would want to be with him again. Or maybe she would not. Shen knew he had to be okay with himself either way.

But one thing was certain, whether he be man or monster, the thread that he clung to was his deep affection for Sarah, and if she would have him, he would be hers, truly and faithfully for as long as she was willing to suffer him.

If she chose otherwise and decided that it was best for each of them to remain apart, Shen hoped he could at least salvage that deep friendship they had once shared. Maybe that was possible still, or maybe he had crossed a bridge too far; there was no other way of knowing but to try.

So at last, when he reached Sarah’s door, he steeled himself, quieted his nerves, and rang the chime. Ready for anything. Most importantly, ready to be okay with anything. And accepting, deep inside himself, that anything was possible in this universe, and should she reject him now he would be okay. He had to be.

***

Sarah climbed out of bed, put some clothes on, and then answered the door. The chime rang only once and so, by the time she reached the door, she half-expected to find nobody there. For that matter, she wasn’t sure she hadn’t dreamed the whole thing.

But then, when she opened the door, a familiar face was standing there. One that woke her up like a shock of electricity and sent two very powerful, very conflicting emotions pouring through her veins.

“Hello, Shen,” she said. “What do you want?”

“Hi, Sarah,” he said with a nervous smile. She could always tell when he was nervous. “I was hoping now would be a good time to talk for a few minutes.”

Sarah thought about the paper flowers and the sincerely-written but half-assed note Shen had left with them days before. The gesture had been enough to get them back onto speaking terms, but it didn’t undo any of the hurt feelings she felt, or any of her confusion.

“Now isn’t a great time,” said Sarah, folding her arms. “I was trying to get some sleep.”

Shen nodded. “In that case, I apologize. I’ll try again later.” He turned around and began to walk away.

Sarah felt bad for sending him off like that and her curiosity got the better of her. “Wait,” she said, stopping him.

“Come on in,” she motioned for him to enter her quarters.

“Thank you, Sarah, I really appreciate that,” said Shen in a voice so polite she couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not.

Once they were both inside, Sarah pushed the button and the door slid closed. “What is this about, Shen?”

He looked around her apartment, perhaps trying to spot the homemade flowers he had carefully folded. If so, it was a vain search, Sarah had thrown them away, along with Shen’s note.

“Honestly,” said Shen, turning his attention back to Sarah, “I’ve come to apologize.”

“For what?” asked Sarah.

“The thing is, I have a million excuses,” said Shen, “but that’s all they are. Just excuses. So without trying to justify anything, I just want you to know that what I did was completely, utterly, and entirely my fault. I had no right to push you away like I did after Remus Nine, and I had no right to ignore you and reject you, and treat you the way I treated you.”

She stared into his eyes and found his to look surprisingly sincere. His face was red, and this was clearly difficult for him, yet here he was, trying anyway.

“We have a friendship that I treasure above all my other friendships,” he said. “And because of that, I selfishly wanted to take it farther, even though you were unready or uninterested. And then, when you did not reciprocate my feelings, I took it out on you by stupidly volunteering for a dangerous mission. And, ever after, doing everything I could to push you away so that I wouldn’t have to keep feeling the pain of your rejection.”

“I—” Sarah tried to interrupt, but Shen clearly wanted to get out everything he’d come to say.

“You had every right to tell me you didn’t share my feelings,” said Shen. “And instead of respecting your wishes, I acted like a baby about it. And for that, I’m sorry. Sarah, I am so very, very sorry for putting you in the position that I put you in, and for keeping you at arm’s length ever since I got back aboard the ship. Especially when you only wanted to help me. You cared for me, even when I didn’t deserve caring for, and I repaid your kindness with silence, with indifference, and even with rudeness. And for all of that, I am terribly sorry, and I hope,” his eyes seemed almost to tear up at this point, “that you will forgive me. I would like us to be friends again. Even if that is all we ever can be. I treasure our friendship so very much that I don’t want to ever live without it. And, if there is anything I can do, anything in the world, to make it up to you, then say the word and I will do it. Because you mean that much to me. Our friendship means that much to me.”

With that, he stopped, pausing for breath, and Sarah wasn’t sure if the speech was over. It had taken her so off-guard and felt so tender and sincere, and she could tell how difficult it was for Shen to be here, saying these words. The man was practically trembling with each sentence he spoke and all the while his eyes looked on the verge of bursting into tears.

Sarah had planned on being angry at Shen. Shen, who had rejected her when she came to him. Shen, who had pushed her away. Shen, who had done all the things that now he was apologizing for. And his apology seemed to be emanating from the bottommost region of his heart.

He means it
, she realized, stunned.
He really means it
.

Suddenly, her anger with him was gone. She couldn’t even remember why she had been so upset. And then, without realizing what she was doing, as Shen stood there, pleading for her forgiveness, Sarah approached him and threw her arms around him. He put his strong arms around her, pulling her in tight, and—without either of them knowing what they were doing—their lips met just for a second, almost more of a tickle than a kiss. They paused, as if each was wondering what the right thing to do was. Each questioning what this meant and where this would lead—
disaster, probably
, thought Sarah.

And yet, she kissed him, and he kissed her back. Passionately. Deeply. And he felt her strong hands slide along his back as she gripped the nape of his neck and pulled his head low, for her to reach.