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Authors: Ann Aguirre

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BOOK: Wanderlust
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“Like they did DuPont Station?”

“I heard about that. They were looking for
you
, weren’t they?”

“Yeah. Big scary terrorist, that’s me.”

He snorts. “You don’t look so tough.”

Well, he’s right. At the moment I feel like the baby could snap me like a twig. It’s not a good idea to reveal your weaknesses, however.

“Appearances can be deceiving.”

The man flinches like I hit a raw nerve. “I know that’s right.”

“Aw, don’t tell me people think you’re pretty but dumb. That must really sting.” This conversation is finally getting interesting. “Do they suggest you should be in vids or wearing clothes professionally?”

“Bitch.”

Dina sweeps into the room in time to hear the invective. “Making new friends, are you, Jax?”

I flash her a grin. “You know, with a winning personality like I’ve got—”

“We’ll have ten different factions trying to kill us again within a week or two,” she interjects.

“Ten? That seems a little on the high side, even for me.”

“I figure we’ve already got the Syndicate. The Ithtorians, who don’t really want to receive us in the first place and so aren’t going to be happy with this delay. The folks on Lachion are going to be wondering where we are, too . . . so that’s three already.”

“You think Keri would hunt me down? I thought she kinda liked me by the time we left last time.”

“No, she enjoyed beating the shit out of you.”

Wearing an expression of tentative amusement, Jael listens to us banter. It seems like he wants to join in but isn’t quite sure whether he’s allowed. I don’t tell him that picking on me is practically an official pastime around here.

But she’s brought me a mug of hot choclaste. My brow arches even as I accept the offering. I can’t help peering into the cup with suspicion.

“Did you pee in it?”

“Of course not.” Dina waits until I’ve taken a sip before adding, “The baby did.”

I manage not to give her the satisfaction of spluttering. “Mmm. I thought it had a special something.”

“You’re nasty, you know that?” She shakes her head.

“Did March send you?” The question comes out loaded.

When her gaze meets mine, I see that she’s figured it out. I thought staying out of sight would be enough until I figured this thing out. Shit. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if Dina starts being nice to me. Treats me like an invalid.

“What did I miss?” Jael glances between us, sensing subtext. He really is smarter than he looks. That just might keep him alive with this crew.

“Nothing,” I answer before Dina can. “Okay, you did me a favor. Now what do you want in return?”

She pins on a smile that troubles me. Mary curse it, she’s worried about me. “It’s your turn to watch the brat.”

“Oh, it most certainly is not. I just—” I trail off because it’s been days. I hoped if I stayed out of sight, people would forget.

This “team” child-care thing sucks. I’ve never been near an infant so young before. The kids I cared for on Gehenna were all toddling, at least, which gets you a whole different set of problems.

I down the choclaste in one gulp. “Fine. But any longer than two hours, and I’m not responsible for what may happen. Wars have been started over less.”

“Don’t worry, it’s Jael’s turn after yours. I’m sure he won’t forget.”

“As if I’d let him,” I mutter, heading for the door.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 14

“Bernard’s Luck
to Emry Station. Requesting permis
sion to dock.” March has been sending that same message on a timed loop ever since our sensors first picked up the station.

So far no response—and that worries me. Comm silence seldom results from a beneficial cause. Things may be worse than we’ve been led to suppose. Emry Station never qualified as a hub of activity, and no telling what’s going on there now. The last we heard, it was full of Farwan loyalists, but a lot can change in a few weeks.

The whole universe has changed, after all.

“What do you think?”

“We have to stop, no matter what. We can’t go on as we are.”

I certainly agree with that. This crappy little cutter doesn’t have the storage for long hauls. We need to fuel up, refill our water tanks, and get some more supplies on board: nutri-paste at the very least. Mary only knows who’s going to pay for it. The one good thing about the Corp, I never had to worry about that.

We’ve already received two angry messages from Chancellor Tarn, wanting to know where the hell we are. I haven’t decided what to tell him. I intend to blame nonreceipt of his messages on sunspots, rogue comets, and anything else I can think of along the way. Hopefully, he’s a politician to the bone, and he’ll make up a convincing story that doesn’t leave the Ithtorians wanting to kill us on sight for insulting them.

“But we can’t just dump Surge, Kora, and—what did they name the kid again? If it’s dangerous.”

“You know perfectly well they named her Sirina.”

“I do?” I don’t remember registering that, actually.

He nods, checking our distance from Emry. At our current cruising speed, we’ll be there in under an hour. “It’s a combination of Sirantha and Dina . . . since you two helped Kora through her labor, Rodeisian tradition. Makes you like a . . . godmother or something.”

“It does not.” I can’t hide how appalled I am. “You’re making that up.”

“Don’t believe me?” He grins. “Just ask Kora.”

“What obligations does that involve? Am I supposed to remember her birthday? Send gifts?”

“In the oldest Terran sense you’re responsible for her moral fiber. Set a good example, keep her on the straight and narrow, all that.”

“Now that you
must
be making up.”

His grin delights me. “It’s true. You can verify it with 245 if you like.”

“You’re enjoying this far too much.” I make a mental note to do just that, not that I don’t trust him, but . . . well, you know.

“For Rodeisians, I suspect it involves something else entirely. You and Dina might be responsible for supervising Sirina’s vision quest or something like that. Ask 245 about that as well.”

For a moment, I try to imagine Dina and me coordinating
anything
as a team, let alone an outing that involves out-of-body experiences and mild hallucinogens. Thankfully that’s years away yet. I sprawl back in the nav chair and turn my face upward, appealing to a grungy gunmetal ceiling. “Why me?”

“Because you fight so hard against attachments?” Though delivered casually, I register the intent quality of the question.

I force myself to answer lightly. “Yeah, that must be it. What’s the plan?”

March raises a brow. “When do we ever have a plan?”

“We always have a plan. We just don’t stick to it.”

“So what’s the point of making it? Why not just wing it?”

I glare. “Are you in the
mood
to argue with me?”

“Actually I’m in the mood to fuck, but our timing’s off.”

“Isn’t it always? Dance lessons might help.”

The smile kindles in his dark eyes before it reaches his mouth. With a wonder that actually steals my breath, I watch its genesis like a mini-sunrise lighting his whole face. I don’t know how I got by without him, or why I fought so hard against this. The first impression scares the shit out of me, but it’s breathtaking, too, like when you push off a cliff and feel the wind against your face. At that point, you’re not thinking of anything but free fall.

Landing comes later. That’s what hurts. Then again, what doesn’t?

I can close my eyes and construct this man’s face, feature by feature. Could I ever do that with Kai? I can’t remember anymore. I know he had blond hair and green eyes, but he’s faded, like someone I knew a long time ago. And I’m not sure if that’s okay, or if it just makes me fickle.

He answers my thought without looking at me. “It makes you human.”

That sounds like an equivocation to me, but then, I know he doesn’t like finding me thinking about the love I lost. That’s tough shit, I’m afraid. I can’t forget about Kai. I never will. He was different than March in every conceivable way, so it puzzles me how I could love two such dissimilar men.

I have this dream sometimes where I’m in a white room, no furniture, but there are two exits. Kai stands before one door and March stands before the other. I’m caught in the middle, and I have to choose. I know this is a bullshit crazy-ass thing because I’ll never have to pick.

Kai is gone. I’ll never see him or touch him again. I’m happy with March. I love him, I do. But the dream still wakes me up in a cold sweat.

How do you measure love? Quantify it? It’s not something you can put on a scale or pour into a beaker to examine its volume and viscosity.

Crazy Jax, worried about choosing between the living and the dead. Some days, though, I feel like I’m closer to the latter than the former, and it’s not improving. If anything, I’m getting worse. The bruise Kora inflicted on me two weeks ago should be healed. Instead it’s just starting to turn blue-green.

My hair should be growing back. I should have a short, nappy crop of curls on my head by now, but it still looks much as it did after we shaved it. When I look in the mirror, it’s like I can see ghosts swimming in the glass. They can’t touch me yet, but my head echoes with their whispers.

“Please don’t think that way.” March finally cuts me a look, away from the instrument panels and readings he doesn’t need to monitor.

I remember that from the old days, before I knew how he felt about me. He used the controls as a way to distance himself from me. And the fact that he’s doing it now tells me he thinks we do, indeed, have something to fear.

“Have you ever heard of a jumper wasting away like this?” There, I finally said it out loud. Now it’s no longer the pink orangutan that everyone pretends not to see.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. After we wrap things up here on Emry, we’re heading straight for Lachion, so Doc can take a look at you. Don’t worry, Jax. We’ll fix it.”

I don’t argue with him, but I have a feeling it won’t be that simple. At this point we don’t even know what “it” is. There are any number of medical facilities we could jump to from here, no need to target Lachion, except I trust Doc, and I won’t have somebody I don’t know poking around in my head. Or my intestines for that matter. Those days are done.

Further complicating matters, we really shouldn’t jump to Ithiss-Tor until we’re certain I’m not infectious. Most likely any illness I’ve contracted wouldn’t translate to their systems, but I prefer to be sure. I’m not killing off a whole race as an unwitting plague carrier.

Unless that’s what someone intends. What if I’ve been infected on purpose? What if—

“Jax.” With a word, he reins in my paranoia.

One thing’s certain, though. I’ll choose a trip to a Psych and a Eutha-booth over some long, lingering illness that has no cure. Either March is distracted, or he prefers to ignore that. Just as well, I don’t want to fight. Too tired.

Still no answer from Emry. We’ve reached real visual range now, no more distant images picked up by the sensors. I lean in, studying the energy readings, though I don’t know enough about it to draw conclusions.

“How’s it look?”

“Like something’s wrong.”

“Wrong like they all caught some exotic disease and died, and the station is now infected with deadly parasites that kill you with bloody hemorrhaging out the eyeballs? Or wrong like they don’t want to encourage visitors?”

March regards me for a moment and then shakes his head. “Ever an optimist, aren’t you? Your imagination scares me sometimes, Jax.”

“You know, the Psychs always said that about me, too.”

Truthfully, I’m getting a bad vibe from Emry Station. Not like what waited for us on DuPont, nothing as harmless as Hon and his raiders. It’s too quiet here, too still.

Something’s down there. And it’s not in the mood to talk.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 15

Whatever has gone wrong inside, the automated system
still works.

As we glide toward the bay doors, the sensors detect us, and Emry opens up. I try to squelch the mental image of the docking mechanism as a gigantic maw waiting to devour us. Comm silence has become eerie.

By now someone should have come on, asking about the nature of our emergency. Instead the station AI coordinates our arrival in mechanized silence. Through the view screen, I watch as the inner doors seal. They won’t reopen until the outer doors close, and this area regains sufficient pressure and oxygen levels to support human life. Typically that takes about two minutes.

Emry is an ugly station, designed with function in mind: two circular decks that rotate slowly in counterpoint to create artificial gravity. I wait until the docking procedure completes and then swing out of the nav chair. March follows me down through the hub, all the way to the hatch.

“Who’s going with us?”

“Kora and Dina need to stay with the ship,” he says at once.

That must be because he wants one of our people making sure Surge and Jael don’t fuel up and repo this thing, leaving us stranded. March grins and offers an infinitesimal nod. I guess he doesn’t trust Vel completely yet, for all the guy saved my ass a few weeks ago. I can’t blame March; he takes a while to warm up to people.

“I’ll go,” Vel says quietly.

I’m not entirely sure that’s a good idea. We might need him on the ship to help Dina, if our passengers get any bold ideas. That is, until Jael adds, “Me, too.”

BOOK: Wanderlust
2.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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