Eternity Row (3 page)

It’s a little more complicated than that, Duncan. He’s been suppressing going into season to avoid this for a couple of years now, and that has to stop. Also, he needs an Omorr female, so he’ll have to go home and get one
. Not to mention all the endless contract negotiations involved with Squilyp choosing a mate. Apparently, on his homeworld, marriage was about as much fun as working out a cease-fire between warring armies.

You don’t want him to leave.

Sheer laziness. I don’t want to be Senior Healer again
. I worked his tunic off and ran my hands up his arms.
I have other priorities now. Like finding out how you’re going to lure me from this sofa to our sleeping platform
.

His hands framed my face as he ended the link. “That will require minimum effort.”

“Hey. Maybe I’m not that easy,” I said, slightly miffed.

He slid his hands in my hair and pressed his mouth over mine. When we came up for air, my hands were in his hair, and I’d somehow gone from sitting beside him to straddling him.

So I was easy. Big deal.

He stroked his hands over my back, and cupped my hips. “Are you still averse to the thought of moving to our sleeping platform?”

I nipped the edge of his jaw as I rocked slowly against his lap, and the very solid, very enticing anatomical changes down there. “Maybe.”

He stood up, lifting me with him. “I will have to convince you to think otherwise.”

“Yes.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Convince me, love.”

He would have, too, if a signal hadn’t come in over the console.

I sighed. “It could be Medical.”

With gratifying reluctance, Reever put me down so I could answer it. The image that appeared on the vid wasn’t relayed from Medical Bay, however. Complex navigational equipment appeared behind a stern blue face. Like many of the crew, my ClanBrother Xonea Torin wore his long black hair in a warrior’s knot. Unlike them, he got to wear a dark gray Captain’s flightsuit.

“You were to report to my office after your shift,” he said, sounding mildly peeved.

“Sorry, I forgot.” And I was-I’d been making an effort to be more punctual lately. “Can we reschedule for tomorrow morning?”

“That would be when you are to report to the departmental staff meeting.” His white eyes shifted and focused on a spot behind me. “Perhaps Duncan can persuade you to program a reminder alarm.”

“I will see to it. Good night, Captain.” Reever reached over and shut off the console.

“That was kind of rude,” I said as he picked me up again.

“If Xonea wishes courtesy, he can signal our quarters at a more reasonable hour.” He dropped me on our sleeping platform before securing the door panel and joining me. “It seems you require a great deal of persuasion in several areas.”

I forgot about the Captain and arched under his hands. “Then you’ll just have to put in a little overtime.”

I made up for missing the appointment with Xonea by making it to the staff meeting on time. Barely.

I smothered a yawn as I sipped my herbal tea and took my place at the oval conference table. Department heads from every section on the ship gathered here to discuss everything from reassignment of personnel to proposed sojourns. As Senior Healer, Squilyp should have been here, not me, but Xonea had specifically requested I attend.

Individual departmental requests were presented first, and my attention drifted. I thought about the Omorr’s decision to leave the ship, and how everyone would assume I’d take over Medical. Only problem was that my life and my priorities had changed since the first time I’d joined this crew. Becoming Senior Healer meant more time away from Marel, and we’d already been separated since her birth. I didn’t want to miss any more of her life than I had to. And then there was Duncan.

“Cherijo.”

I dragged my thoughts back to the meeting I was supposed to be paying attention to, and noticed everyone seated around the table was staring at me. “Sorry, what?”

Xonea gestured toward the star chart he’d holoprojected in the center of the room. “This is our intended route to reach the Liacos Quadrant. What say you our first sojourn be for Taerca?”

There were two other stops planned on our journey, but I had some reasons to want to delay those. “Sounds good to me.”

“I know little about my father’s homeworld.” My half-human friend Hawk, who had given up life in the alien underground to help me and Reever escape Terra, sounded uneasy. Then again, it was hard to sit in a chair when you had fifteen-foot wings to contend with. “Perhaps we should make the journey another time.”

That meant jaunting to Dhreen’s homeworld, Oenrall, or trying to find Maggie’s homeworld, Jxinok. Dhreen’s people were suffering from some mysterious disease he still hadn’t defined for anyone, and Maggie-the only mother I’d ever known-was a manipulative alien who had implanted subliminal messages in my brain and possibly meddled in my creation. “I vote for Taerca.”

“It is the logical choice.” Salo, Fasala’s ClanFather and second in command, punched up another, more convoluted route on the chart. “Should we jaunt to Oenrall first, we would have to double back, adding ten rotations to our journey.” He glanced at the empty chair where Dhreen should have been sitting. “I would not advise we linger in this region. League traders have established trade routes in this quadrant.”

The same League who would pay major credits to anyone who captured me.

“Let them attack,” Xonea said, sitting back and studying the chart. “We are well equipped to deal with whoever challenges us.”

Maybe my vocollar wasn’t translating right. “Excuse me, but I thought our policy was
not
to deal with these people.”

“The Ruling Council has ruled in favor of retaliation.”

This was news. I knew my ClanBrother preferred to stand and fight, but now he had his homeworld’s blessing? “What kind of retaliation are we talking about, Captain?”

Xonea nodded to Salo, and a schematic of the
Sunlace
replaced the Liacos star chart. “The retrofit we underwent on Joren included the installation of aft and stern sonic cannons. Secondary buffers now reinforce each level, and Engineering has relocated the stardrive, helm, and weapons control, which have also been fitted with autonomous power and fuel cells. All engagement-response systems now have alternate backups duplicated in a different area of the ship.”

Cannons. Secondary buffers. Engagement-response systems. Nice way to refer to tech created solely to destroy life. I didn’t like it, but the Jorenians had the right to defend themselves. Especially since I was the magnet drawing all those bounty-hungry mercenaries toward the ship.

“So the new policy is what? We defend ourselves, disable the other guys, and leave?”

“We will not turn our backs to our enemies,” Salo said in that quiet, ominous warrior way. “Not before the House, in the flesh or in space.”

The Captain nodded. “Thus decrees the Ruling Council of Joren.”

Something twisted in my stomach. I knew a lot about Jorenian customs, and this new policy went way beyond what had been permitted before. “They said you could declare ClanKill on attacking ships?”

“In essence, yes. The decision remains solely a Captain’s prerogative.” Xonea smiled, and it wasn’t pleasant. “I shall decide whom we pursue.”

“Terrific.” The one guy on the ship with the biggest chip on his shoulder as far as the League was concerned now had his government’s blessing to hunt down and destroy his enemies. With a ship that had over a hundred children on board.

Including mine.

CHAPTER TWO Engagement Response

Reminding everyone about how vulnerable we were with children on board had defeated Xonea’s pro-military agenda before; maybe it would again. “What about our kids?”

“I anticipated your concern.” Xonea made a slightly ironic gesture. “Combat training and battle drills for the crew and their young ones will be held on a regular basis.”

“Warrior training for the children?” My voice climbed an octave. “Do you have a head injury I don’t know about?”

“They will be taught to defend the House.” My ClanBrother gave me a stern look. “As will you, Healer.”

Before I could pick my jaw up off the conference table, Salo helped the Captain railroad me. “Training schedules shall be decided at our next meeting, after the related programming has been examined.” He passed down a stack of discs to me. “Healer Cherijo will perform the inspection.”

Healer Cherijo was about to perform some lobotomies. “I’ll get out my white gloves.”

That left only the unfinished discussion of where to go, and everyone voted to head straight for Taerca. The meeting adjourned, but Xonea left before I could corner him. Not that I was worried. People who avoided me usually regretted it.

Combat training. For children. For
Marel. I stalked out.
Over my dead body
.

Hawk caught up with me outside. “You are upset, Cherijo?”

Steam should have been pouring out of my ears. “My daughter is only a year old, Hawk. I’d rather she not learn to rip out someone’s intestines until she’s done cutting her baby teeth.”

“Let me carry those.” He took the discs from me. “The Captain can’t teach that to the children. Marel is not large nor strong enough to kill.”

I scoffed. “You’ve never witnessed one of her tantrums.”

“I have, ClanCousin.” The new resident, Qonja, caught up with us. “Such sophisticated methods of manipulation as she displayed yesterday, at this developmental stage-”

“Wait.” I held up one hand. “Who are you talking about?”

“I was speaking of your ClanDaughter.” He made a gesture used to display concern for a close family member. One he had no business flashing at me. “I have several theories regarding her behavioral aberrations.”

“Do you?” My temper, never a very shy or retiring thing, had been tugging at its mental chains all morning. Links began to snap. “You know, I’d love to hear them, but there’s just this one problem.”

His brow furrowed. “What is it?”

“I was having a
private
conversation here. As in, it’s none of your business. Go
away
.”

Now he looked completely baffled. “Your pardon, but I merely wish to point out-”

All the chains snapped. “
Get lost
!”

Hawk’s wings arched as he moved in between me and the psych resident. “Shall I notify Security?”

“That is not necessary.” For a Jorenian, Qonja seemed extraordinarily obtuse. “I believe I have valuable insights to contribute to this dialogue.”

“I don’t. Take a hike.” With that I spun on my heel and strode away with Hawk. Once I made sure our shadow hadn’t followed us, I sighed. “That guy is really obnoxious. How can he be from

Joren?”

“He seems very eager for your approval.”

Perhaps that was all it was-a little misplaced hero worship. “Speaking of approval, why are you so jittery about going to see your dad?”

“He left Terra before my birth.” His troubled expression returned. “My mother died soon after, and my grandparents despised him.”

“Terrans are xenophobes,” I reminded him. “Why did he leave?”

“The Planetary Residential Commission deported him. My mother forced my grandparents to vow to care for me.” He hesitated. “Cherijo, why is the Captain doing this? I thought Jorenians avoided violence.”

“They do, unless someone attacks their kin. Then they hunt them down and kill them-no matter how long it takes. No second chances, no mercy.” I thought of the ritual ClanKill I’d seen performed in the past, and shuddered. “This ruling takes it to a whole new level.”

“Is that bad?”

“Xonea has permission to go after an attacking ship, with possibly thousands of people on board. People who are simply doing their job. He won’t stop until he kills them all.”