Dark Space: Origin (32 page)

Ethan felt strong hands forcing him to his knees. He hit the deck with a grunt, and Brondi took a fistful of his short hair, yanking his head back. “How’s this for a guarantee—if you don’t fly for me until
I’m
satisfied that you’ve paid your debts, then I’ll have every man on this ship take full advantage of Alara’s slave chip.”

Ethan’s face went bone white.

“If she lives through all of that, you can have her back, and I’ll even deactivate her chip for you. Then I’ll set both of you free, because living with the aftermath of everything that happened to the woman you love will destroy you better than I ever could. You won’t even be able to
look
at her again, and she’ll kill herself before long.”

“You’re a sick kakard, Brondi,” he said quietly.

Brondi’s gaping grin returned. “Thank you.” He slapped Ethan on the back. “Welcome to the Netherworld. To answer your earlier question, you can call me the Devlin.” Brondi leaned close to whisper in Ethan’s ear, “And you’re
mine
now.”

*  *  *

Despite the hypnotic effects of the light sculpture, Atton hardly slept all night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the admiral’s hidden lift tube, and wondering what was down there. In those odd hours when he did drift off to sleep, his dreams were filled with a nameless dread.

What was Hoff hiding?

Now, after what felt like an endless night, he couldn’t lie in bed any longer. A quick look at the glowing blue digits on the comm suite beside his bed showed that it was only 0520, but he had to get up.

Atton took a quick vaccucleanse and forwent his steam-cleaned uniform in favor of a fluffy white robe and matching slippers which he found in the closet. Now the comm suite showed almost six hundred hours. Atton keyed open the door and crept out into the darkened hall. The light paintings hanging on the walls cast ominous shadows. He turned the corner and began to hear hushed voices.

He wasn’t the only one awake.

Atton reached the end of the hall and waited there. He heard whirring servos and saw the admiral’s gleaming white server bot, HTX4, busy in the kitchen. Atton shrank back against the wall so the bot wouldn’t see him, and then he overhead his mother say, “Don’t try to turn this around on me! I do trust you.
You’re
the one who doesn’t trust
me
enough to share your secrets.”

“Really? So accusing me of hiding a pleasure palace below decks is trusting me?” HTX4 went whirring by with a steaming tray of caf and pancakes. Atton’s mouth watered, but he forced himself to focus on what the admiral was saying. “What was Atton doing out in the garden last night?”

“Didn’t he tell you? He couldn’t sleep, so he went to get some fresh air.”

“And I suppose he thought it might be fun to get lost in the silverleafs.”

“I don’t know—why don’t you ask him?”

“I did. He said it looked like part of the garden to him.”

“You see?”

“No, I don’t. I think you told him to go there and see what he could find.”

“You know what? I’m getting very tired of these interrogations. If your XO is allowed to know what you’re hiding, why can’t I?”

“He’s sworn to secrecy on pain of death, Destra. I cannot say the same for you.”

“Why not? You’d probably kill me if I found out, anyway.”

“Don’t insult me, Destra. I don’t kill my family to keep them quiet.”

“What are you doing?” a small voice asked. Atton almost jumped into the kitchen.

He turned and saw a little girl blinking up at him. “Oh—hello, Atta.”

She had bad timing. HTX4 returned from the living room in the same instant that Atton replied. The bot overheard, and his blue photoreceptors swiveled and winked as they focused in on the hallway.

“Hello, Master Atton! And dear little Atta! I didn’t notice the two of you there.”

Suddenly the conversation in the living room stopped, and Atton heard footsteps. Hoff appeared in the entrance of the kitchen. “Good morning, Atton.”

“Good morning, Daddy!” Atta said.

“Hello, dear. Why don’t the two of you come join us for breakfast. There’s pancakes, and fruit juice in the living room”

“Oh, yay!” Atta said. “I love pancakes.”

She raced by Atton, but he stayed where he was, and his gaze never left Hoff’s face. “I could use some caf to wake up,” he said slowly.

“I’ll get you some right away!” HTX4 replied, whirring into action.

“Still couldn’t sleep after the tea?” Hoff asked as Atton started through the kitchen.

“Not very well, no.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Atton didn’t believe Hoff was ever sorry about anything, but he kept that to himself. When Destra saw him walk into the living room, she looked up and smiled hesitantly.

Atton returned her smile. “Hello, Mom.”

“Hello,” she said.

“Please, take a seat, Atton.” Hoff gestured to an empty arm chair opposite the one where he was headed. Atta was already seated beside her mother on the couch, helping herself to a pair of large pancakes.

Atton sat down and eyed Hoff across the black chrome coffee table. HTX4 whirred up to him with a steaming cup of caf. “I forgot to ask how you like it, Master Atton.”

Atton waved a hand. “Black is fine.”

“Very well. Here you are, sir.”

Atton accepted the steaming cup and took a careful sip. His eyes never left Hoff’s. The admiral stared back just as unwaveringly.

Destra looked up to see the interplay between them, and she cleared her throat. “Did you get some sleep after all, Atton?”

“No.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“How about you, Hoff?” Atton asked.

“I slept like a baby,” he said, smiling as he retrieved his own cup of caf from the coffee table and drained the cup. “But now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to the bridge.” Hoff’s eyes darted to Destra, who was pretending to be preoccupied with her food and Atta. “I’ll be back for lunch.”

“Bye, darling,” Destra said, not looking up from her plate.

Hoff didn’t bother to return her sentiment as he walked away. Atton’s eyes followed him to the doors. As soon as they’d swished shut, he turned back to his mother and shook his head. “Hoff’s
XO
can know his secrets, but
you
can’t?”

She looked up with a wan smile. “I wondered how much you’d heard.”

“Enough.
More
than enough. Destra—
Mom
—what kind of man or officer puts his subordinates ahead of his wife? You should come first.”

“I know that, Atton.”

“Then?”

“Shhh. We can talk more about this later.” Destra’s eyes darted to Atta. Her small brow was furrowed and her pancakes lay forgotten on her plate.

“What don’t you know about, Mommy?”

“Nothing, dear. It’s just a surprise Daddy’s planning—that’s all.”

“Is it a surprise for me?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting hopefully.

“Well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we? Eat your food, Atta.”

“Okay.”

“If you’re a good girl, you’ll get your surprise.”

Atta nodded, her mouth already stuffed full of pancakes. Atton watched treacle dripping down Atta’s chin, and he couldn’t help but smile. He reached for a napkin on the tray between them and handed it to her. “Here,” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied, almost spitting half-chewed pancakes at him.

Atton turned back to his mother and his eyes hardened once more. “We need to talk.”

“In a minute, Atton.”

“No, we need to talk now.”

Destra sighed. “Atta, you stay there, okay? I’m just going to go outside for a moment to speak with your brother.”

“Okay . . .” she said. “Can I come outside when I’m done?”

“No, dear. Stay there. I’ll come back when we’re done talking. It’s a grown-up conversation.”

“I’m a grown-up, too!” she insisted. “I’m seven,” she said, holding up the appropriate number of fingers.

Destra smiled. “Of course you are.”

“So why can’t I hear?”

“You remember what Daddy told you about where babies come from?”

Atta’s nose wrinkled. “Yes . . .”

“Atton has a question about that.”

“Oh. That’s okay. You can talk without me then.”

Destra smiled. “We’ll be back in a minute.” She led the way through the living room to the dining room and from there to a pair of doors which led out to the garden. The doors parted with a
swish
, and Atton noted that the artificial sky over the garden was now bright and pale blue. A bright red sun sat close to the horizon, and Atton was surprised that he could actually feel the warmth in its rays. The grass and the silverleaf hedges seemed to glow and sparkle in the sunlight. It took a moment for him to realize that the sparkle was from dew which had condensed out of the air overnight. He shook his head, astounded by the depth of the illusion which Hoff had created.

“Well?” Destra demanded, drawing Atton’s attention away from the scene.

His mother stood with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting for him to explain himself. “You realize that you need to find out for her sake, too, don’t you? Whatever he’s hiding, it could be something dangerous.”

Destra hesitated, but at last she conceded that with a nod. “I know.”

“It’s his own fault. He shouldn’t
have
secrets. Not from you. But you can blame me for discovering them if you want. I don’t mind.”

“I need some time to think about it.”

“Don’t take too much. The clock’s ticking. It started the day we were forced to pack our bags and leave for Dark Space, and it hasn’t stopped running down since. The time for secrets is over. We need answers. There’s a reason the Sythians invaded, Destra, and I’m willing to bet that someone, somewhere, already knows what that reason is.”

“You think that . . . Hoff knows about that?”

“Why is he so suspicious of the Gors? Why is he their enemy number one besides the Sythians? Why does
no one
know where his enclave is? What is he hiding there, and does it even exist?”