Dremiks (19 page)

***

Several decks below the two ensigns, Ryan Hill paced the floor of Chancellor Trell’s quarters. His agitation was subsiding, but not fast enough. As far as he could tell, the captain, O’Connell, and the senior engineer were keeping the true nature of the engine malfunction to themselves. They were the only people he was sure had an idea of the true cause of the shut-down. He suspected, based on their behavior and odd duty rotations, that at least one or two more crew members were in on the secret. Frustratingly, they were all tight lipped and not inclined to share confidences with him.

He needed leverage.

He stopped pacing to stare down at the Chancellor. “When does the next packet of diplomatic messages go out?”

Chapter 11

Dwax floated down a corridor, clicking quietly to himself as thoughts raced through his brain. His brain was twice the size of a human’s brain, something his elders at the Academy felt necessary to point out with every opportunity. Dwax wasn’t entirely sure it mattered how large his brain was if he couldn’t master the simple intricacies of a basic human interaction: lying. As a species, Dremikians were considered to be inherently truthful. Dwax knew far too much about his people to believe that common, human, assumption. He trilled a short laugh as he remembered a dry comment from Lieutenant Price regarding “assuming”.

The engine malfunction and subsequent fluctuations in relative gravity had made Dwax ill. So ill, in fact, that he’d been confined to his bed until the gravity was restored. His vascular system did not respond well to even slight changes in pressure and gravity, and what the
Hudson
had experienced for that harrowing week was by no means slight. Now free to roam the ship again, Dwax headed to the medical and science bay to visit Dr. Fortunas.

The old man still made Dwax nervous, but his anecdotes were amusing. He, Fortunas, was also an excellent source of insight into the human psyche. Dwax found his training sorely lacking in so many areas, but most of all in predicting human responses. Given the position he was in, and would be in when the ship reached his home world, it was a matter of great concern to Dwax that he had no idea what to expect from the humans around him.

“Good evening, Honored One!” Clara, the chief scientist’s primary assistant, grinned up at Dwax.

He prided himself on remembering the names of all the humans on board. Remembering Clara, though, was no trouble. She was exuberant, with an open, honest face and an easy personality. She also smelled like chocolate—something Dwax found fascinating.

“A good evening to you, Madam Clara. You are well?”

Clara smiled. “I am well, thank you. That great oaf over there is in a tearing temper, though. He’s made a dog’s meal of the last three experiments and is snapping like a terrier.”

That was far too many canine allusions for Dwax to make sense of. He gave her a polite smile, or what passed as such from a species with too-thin lips and pointed teeth, and slid across the bay to where the elderly gentleman stood glaring down at a table.

“I bid you good evening, Honored Science Doctor.”

Fortunas ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and turned his attention to his visitor. “And I to you, Honored One. Feeling better?”

“I am indeed. Madam Clara indicates that your work has been unsatisfactory?”

Ben shot a look across the room, but Clara had her back turned. “That’s right, turn away and pretend you’re not listening to a word of this! Impertinent miss! I’ll have you sacked!”

Clara raised one hand and wiggled her fingers but made no other response. Dwax frowned, looking between the two of them. Then he realized the doctor wasn’t serious in his threat.

“Does she respond to this, your talk of sacking?”

The human snorted. “Respond, yes. Respond as I would like, as she
should?
Not a damn bit. Human women, lad, are a conundrum surrounded by a gravity well. You’ll get sucked in and discover only circular logic and mind-numbing prattle.”

Though a particularly descriptive insight, Dwax thought, it wasn’t much help towards his greater goal. How was he to understand humans if they didn’t understand themselves?

“Stuff it all. Make yourself useful, Honored One, hold this vial while I try this nonsense again.”

“As you wish, Doctor.”

***

O’Connell stood outside the Vice Chancellor’s quarters, staring hard at the door. If she stared hard enough, surely, the reason for his summons would be clear. She hated going in there not knowing what he wanted.

Be honest, you hate the idea of going in there at all.

Admitting to herself that Ryan Hill gave her the creeps was enough to stiffen her backbone. He was just a politician prone to leers and half-truths. Which was, she thought with a smirk, a very redundant thought.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

Ryan Hill gestured to a small arm chair. “Please, Maggie, I am not my brother. Surely between the two of us I can just be Ryan?”

“As you say, sir.” She took the proffered seat and watched as he sat.

“As you know, there are messages transmitted with the rest of the priority communications that are encoded so that only myself or the Chancellor can read them. It is our modern variation of the diplomatic pouch.” He smiled as if he had just imparted some humorous tidbit.

Maggie stared stoically back.

“Ah, yes, anyway, one of the recent messages was from your father.” He saw her stiffen. She was not so nearly as adept as her captain at hiding her unease. “I am afraid that I have some tragic news.” Ryan arranged his face in an expression of concern and sympathy.

“I wonder, sir, why it is my father did not communicate this message directly to me? He has never, in the past, bothered with formality regarding communication chains.” In fact, she thought, he delighted in showing just how easy it was for him to circumvent all the usual channels.

“I believe, that is, I sincerely
hope
, he had me relay this message because he knew that I could be a comforting presence when you heard the news.” Ryan leaned forward across the small space separating their chairs. He picked up Maggie’s limp hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. “My dear, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your Aunt Natalie has slipped into a coma. Your father fears that, even with the best medical treatment he can find for her, she may not recover.”

Maggie felt goose bumps rise on her arms, despite the stuffiness of Ryan’s quarters. She felt, as if from a distance, Ryan squeeze her hand. She heard the air filter switch on. She felt the vibrations of the ship beneath her feet. Mostly, though, she saw the coldly calculating look the Vice Chancellor was giving her.

Joke’s on you, jerk
.

The commander fluidly extracted her hand from Ryan Hill’s grasp. “I thank you for imparting my father’s message, sir.” She clenched her jaw; her chin lifted a fraction higher. Since Ryan still sat, she glared down at him, putting as much fury as she dared into her next words. “You can relay my response to my father, your brother, and anyone else who might give a damn.
I Am Not Your Pawn
. My aunt is going to die peacefully, on her terms. She doesn’t want any extraordinary measures taken to prolong her life. You have all disastrously miscalculated if you think you can use her welfare to, again, keep me in line.”

Ryan jerked to his feet and began to sputter a protest.

Maggie’s hand shot up, palm out. “Save it,
Ryan
. We’re done here.” She pivoted smartly. Ryan stared at the door as she marched out. He’d anticipated tears, pleading, even the possibility of a moment’s rebellion before she stormily accepted the situation. He had not anticipated an ultimatum. The Admiral had assured him that threatening to with-hold life saving treatment from Maggie’s only other living relative would force her cooperation with Ryan’s plans. Ryan did not have instructions on how to handle an openly rebellious Maggie.

As he processed what O’Connell had said, Ryan stopped pacing to stare at the closed door. She had specifically said to relay her response to his brother—his brother
the captain
. She really had no idea of what was going on if she thought Brett Hill would be behind any sort of emotional blackmail. Hopefully her extreme ire would keep her from bringing the subject up with the captain. It might also, Ryan thought with a grin, make her even pricklier around her superior officer. Having the two senior officers on the
Hudson
at loggerheads could only aid his plans.

Maggie strode down the hallways at a determined pace, hoping that anyone who saw her would get the message and get out of the way. Had she seen her own face, she would have understood that only a blind man could have missed her fury. She gained her quarters without having to actually speak to anyone. She slammed the lock code into the keypad before collapsing on her bunk.

The sobs that welled in her chest surprised her. She’d known for over a year that Natalie was dying. She remembered well sitting on the porch chatting with her only maternal relative as the sun slipped behind the Flatirons. The mountain air was cool, but not uncomfortably so, yet Natalie had shivered under her heavy shawl. Her eyes, nearly the identical color of Maggie’s, had crinkled at the edges when she gave her niece a knowing smile.

“I’m dying girl. It’s best you know it before you go off on this latest assignment.” She had tsked and waved a thin, vein-lined hand, at her sister’s child. “Stop your sniffling, girl. This is as good a time as any for me to go. You have a chance, now, to get away from him. Go out there, beyond his reach, and know that there’s nothing here to tether you. I’ll die on my terms, not as his pawn. He can’t use me anymore to keep you in-line.”

Maggie’s shock had shown on her face. “You know? Knew?”

Natalie laughed so hard her thin frame shook in the chair. “Child, when have I not known
exactly
what your father is about? The world may think he’s a sphinx or some such mysterious nonsense. I know he’s a bitter, delusional man. I’ve known for years that his threats against me have kept you from breaking free. He told me I’d never see you again if I interfered. Well, child, I won’t see you again, so it doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve always been so brave, trying to take care of everyone else at the expense of yourself.” She made shushing noises as Maggie tried to protest. “Hush now. Don’t cry darlin’. I know what you’ve done, what you do, what you put up with. Well this time you get to live your life for you. Fly free, darling child. Fly away free and never look back.”

Tears soaked Maggie’s pillow. Natalie had been her only link to her mother, but she’d also been the only person to show her unconditional love. Natalie had saved her, body and soul. They’d laughed and cried, gossiped and philosophized, and loved. Her beloved aunt was dying, alone. Maggie felt that pain keenly, the pain of being so very alone in the entire universe.

“Fly free, Natalie.” The words tumbled from her lips and brought fresh tears tracking down her cheeks.

***

Captain Hill adjusted his posture and his uniform sleeves. He frowned at the door before arranging his features into his usual bland expression.

“Come”

Marissa Hill walked in, regal and cold as ever. She smiled at him, but the gesture held no more warmth than the vacuum lurking beyond the ship’s bulkheads. She slipped into the chair on the opposite side of his desk before glancing around. Her full red lips quirked with amusement, or disdain. It was hard to tell the two apart, coming from Marissa.

“How can I help you today, Mrs. Hill?”

Her trilling laugh grated like nails on a chalkboard. He fought the urge to wince.

“Mrs. Hill? Such formality, darling… brother.” The pause was maliciously deliberate.

“Forgive me,
sister
. Is this meeting regarding a family matter, or does it pertain to official business?” She was not, he vowed, going to goad him.

“As if you’ve ever treated the two differently. I really did expect a rules manual to be handed to me on my wedding day. You know, an annotated copy of How to Be A Pompous Asshole.”

He raised an eyebrow. He knew, oh how he
knew,
that the gesture infuriated her. He watched her dark brown eyes narrow, heard her breathing hitch. “Does my brother know you refer to him thusly?”

He tried to act so cold. Marissa allowed her sneer to show. She alone knew why Brett Hill, exceptional athlete, trusted confidant, devoted family man … passionate lover… had turned into a calculating, emotionless, officer. She knew why, and it made her laughter, bitter with lost chances, bubble in her throat.

“My husband would understand exactly what I’m saying. He’s always... understood… me.” She delighted when he flinched. That particular barb would always score, deeply. She made a placating gesture with her hands. “But you asked why I was here, C
aptain
. I would like to know when I can announce my pregnancy to my staff.”

He looked at her, at her creamy brown skin, flawless and beautiful as ever, and wanted to wrap his hands around her throat. He wanted to shake her until she took back every hateful word and begged his forgiveness. He wanted… it didn’t matter. The captain leaned back in his chair.

“You may tell them whenever you like.”

She was shocked. “You don’t want to control this? You don’t want to
manage
the announcement?”

Well she walked right into this one.

“Why, Marissa, you’ve always been so good at
managing
everything and everyone around you. I’m sure you’ll have this well in hand. I daresay you’ve had a
plan
from the beginning.” He watched her tense at his emphasis. “You will, of course, need to deal with the inevitable fall-out from your announcement. That is, though, a civilian matter. I’m sure Ryan will be happy to help.”

Marissa stood abruptly. “You’re still an ass, Brett.”

“I am known for my consistency. If there’s nothing else?”

She risked a last, parting, cut. “I’ll consult Ryan on this, he’s so much better dealing with people. I do believe he’s
dealing
with your pilot right this minute.”