Heaven's Queen (26 page)

“It is possible to love someone without giving in to attachment,” Dr. Starchild said. “I love my children dearly, but I accept that I cannot control their fates. Why else do you think I allowed Nova to go with Caldswell?”

I shot him a murderous glare, and the doctor sighed. “I am sorry to have offended you, Deviana. I did not mean to make you upset. But you came to me for aid, and I am doing my best to give it to you. The truth is that we are a constantly evolving picture, and the phantoms are part of that now. If we try to fight that, all we do is cause more suffering for ourselves.”

I bared my teeth. “I am not just going to give up.”

“Acceptance is not the same as giving up.”

I growled deep in my throat. I was past fed up with this guru bullshit. But instead of getting out of my way like someone with a healthy sense of self-preservation, Dr. Starchild leaned over, snatching the smaller of the two crowned figures from the white side of his chessboard.

“In chess,” he said, holding the game piece up between his fingers, “the queen is the most powerful piece, but even she is still just a piece on a board. For all her power, she is trapped by her role so long as the game is in play. If she truly wishes to be free, she must change the game.”

I rolled my eyes. “What does that mean?”

“You said yourself that the phantoms are not monsters,” he replied, placing the little queen on the table. “With that in mind, it might behoove us to cease treating them as such. If we bend and adapt, work with rather than against, we might discover that the wall we perceive at our backs is actually a foundation for something else entirely.”

I shook my head. “If you want me to talk to them, I already tried. Doesn’t work.”

“Maybe not yet,” he said with a smile. “But you must agree that it’s time to change our approach. For far too long now, we have been sacrificing our pieces in pursuit of a victory we cannot obtain and which may not even exist. If we continue in this fashion, if we keep clinging to our dream of control, then we have no future but failure.”

He sat back on his pillow as he finished, looking at me calmly like he expected me to throw myself at his feet and bless him for his wisdom. But I’d had all the lecturing I could stomach, and I stood up instead.

“Thanks for the sermon, Doc,” I said. “But you forget, I’m not in this for the long game anymore. I might be a speck in the maelstrom, but this speck means to go out like a supernova. So if you’ll pardon me, I’m going to go and see if the Eyes can’t do something with this virus. Because while they might have their heads up their asses about it, at least they’re
doing
something, not just sitting around in a pretty space station in the middle of nowhere pontificating about acceptance while people are dying.”

I lifted my chin, daring him to come back after that, but Dr. Starchild just gave me a warm smile. “Then I wish you nothing but harmony and fulfillment in all your endeavors.”

When I gave him a frankly skeptical look, his smile only widened. “We may not agree on all things, Deviana Morris, but you are still clearly a brave woman who is trying very hard to do the right thing. Just because your path is not one I would follow myself does not mean I cannot respect it or wish you well. Though I would appreciate it if you would tell Eye Charkov to stop beating on my door. It’s upsetting Copernicus’s calm.”

I blinked. I hadn’t heard any beating. I couldn’t hear a damn thing, actually, but when I turned on my heel and marched over to open the door, Rupert nearly fell on top of me.

He caught himself at once, lowering the fist he’d clearly been using to pound a hole in the amazingly soundproof black glass. He looked at Dr. Starchild, then at my scowl, but though he was clearly curious, urgency won out. “We have to go,” he said, reaching down to grab my armor case. “Now.”

“Why?” I asked. “We got company?”

Rather than answer, he stepped aside so I could see the Terran battleship that was waiting just outside.

“I thought they’d search the planet before chasing down the final jumpers,” he said quickly. “I didn’t realize they’d be on to us so quickly. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I told him, taking my armor case back as I led him out into the waiting area where Copernicus was still hovering. “This actually saves time.”

Rupert gave me an odd look, but I didn’t explain yet. Instead, I gave Nova’s brother the “scram” glare, which cleared the room nicely. Copernicus scrambled out without another word, hurrying into his father’s room and shutting the door behind him. The moment we were alone, I told Rupert the truth.

“I’m done running,” I said, my voice impressively calm and determined as I set my armor case on the floor by my feet. “The doctor can’t help. My options are wait for the virus to slowly kill me, die to the lelgis, or let the Eyes have a shot. So I’m going to have a talk with whoever’s on that ship and make sure that this thing”—I thumped my chest—“pays its dues for all the trouble it’s caused, and I don’t want you to go with me.”

Rupert jerked like I’d hit him. “What?”

“I want you to run,” I said sternly. “I’m going to be dead soon no matter what, but there’s no reason you should suffer, too. I’ll distract them. I’m the primary target. You take the Caravaner and get out of here.”

As I spoke, Rupert went very still, his eyes narrowing. “And where would I run?” he said quietly, reaching up to press his long-fingered hand firmly against my chest. “My heart is here.”

I sighed. “Rupert.”

“I am a defector,” he went on like I hadn’t spoken. “I am no longer taking orders.” His lips curled into a warm smile. “I am free to follow my heart wherever she goes.”

“It’ll be a short trip,” I grumbled, eyes flicking to the enormous battleship outside. Already, fear was burning up my throat. I could face my own death like a hero, but at the thought of Rupert’s, I became a coward. Cowardly enough for the cheap stunt I pulled next.

I snatched my hand down, grabbing Sasha from where I’d lashed her to my armor case. In the low gravity, my anti-armor pistol’s normally oppressive weight was nothing, and my hand shot up like a cork to press her muzzle against the skin of Rupert’s forehead. I would knock him out, get the Starchilds to hide him as a final favor out of my friendship for Nova, and go up to meet the Eyes alone, explaining away the arm I was about to break as an injury from Kessel.

It was a good plan, clean and simple, but I’d miscalculated. I’d thought surprise and low gravity would give me the edge I needed to beat Rupert’s speed, but I wasn’t even close. I’d barely touched Sasha to his skin before he grabbed my wrist, pressing hard on the pressure point until my hand opened.

The sound of my gun clattering to the glass floor was painfully loud in the silence, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Rupert. He was right above me now, his hand still crushing my wrist, though I barely felt the pain. All I felt was a mix of fear and love so strong I didn’t know what to do with it. So I kissed him, rising up on my toes like I had before, only this time I was the savage one, grabbing Rupert and yanking him against me as hard as I could.

“You are such a jerk,” I said when I pulled away at last. “Why won’t you let me save you?”

“Because you wouldn’t be,” he said, dropping my wrist to cup my face with both hands. “Leaving you behind would be no salvation at all.” He leaned into me, smiling softly. “Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve told you?”

I stared up at him for a long moment, and then I lurched forward, burying my face against his chest while my arms wrapped around him so tight I’d have broken something if he’d been human. He held me more gently, but not much, his head pressed against my braided hair as he whispered that he loved me, that I was his brave girl, and didn’t I know he would never leave me?

I wanted to tell him I did know and that was why I’d pulled the gun, but I couldn’t get any words past the lump in my throat. So I just stood there, clinging to him like I was trying to make up for a lost lifetime until I heard the sound of boots landing at the foot of the vertical tunnel. But it wasn’t until a man cleared his throat that I finally found the courage to let go of Rupert and turn to face my fate.

A
fter the force they’d sent against us on Kessel, I was expecting ten symbionts at least, but the Eyes must have been on short notice, because the squad waiting for us when I looked up consisted of only four people who could possibly be symbionts. The rest were soldiers, ten Terrans in classic light-assault gear, the kind Paradoxian armor chewed up like chaff. That almost made me regret not taking a stand, because Rupert and I could have smoked these idiots. But then I noticed that the symbionts had their disrupters out, and, more importantly, all the soldiers were carrying heavy anti-armor shotguns, the big, expensive, multifractal spread kind that could rip my Lady to shreds in seconds, and I knew my decision not to fight had been the right one.

I glanced at Rupert out of the corner of my eye, but he was looking at the person standing at the front of the group. Though his straight posture and physical prowess clearly marked him as a symbiont, the man at the head of the force looked more like a gentle old grandpa than a killer. He wore the same type of plain black suit Rupert used to, but unlike Rupert, he managed to make it look old-fashioned and frumpy rather than dashing. His hair and full beard were snowy white and neatly trimmed, and the soft smile on his lips looked like a permanent fixture on his face. He reminded me of the kindly old mentors you saw in dramas, the ones who always gave the hero that key bit of life advice before dying, so you can imagine my shock when Rupert inclined his head and said, “Commander Martin.”

The grandfatherly man nodded back. “Charkov.”

My heart began to sink. The old man might look benign, but when he spoke, his voice was dry and crisp without a hint of smugness, despite having cornered us at last. I knew that tone well; it was the voice of an officer who saw you not as a soldier but as a tool. A piece to be moved efficiently to secure advantage, and no amount of heroics would ever make him see you differently. I’d had a few commanders like him in my time, and it had always been a degrading experience, which was why I wasn’t surprised at all that the next words out of Commander Martin’s mouth were, “Cuff them.”

The Eyes started toward us while the normal soldiers hung back to provide cover fire. I squeezed the handle of the Lady Gray’s case as they approached, shifting the fingerprint lock to its highest setting. I couldn’t stop them from taking my suit, but at least this way anyone who tried to break in would get cooked. It was cold comfort, especially since, at its highest setting, the security shock would slag my suit’s electronics as well, but I’d rather destroy my Lady than let these bastards have her.

The symbiont who stepped up to cuff me was a nondescript man who didn’t look nearly as impressive as the blond, sweet-talking Eye I’d faced off with on Kessel, especially since he seemed reluctant to touch me. Naturally, then, I couldn’t resist leaning into him as he took my case and locked my wrists behind my back with a pair of sticky cuffs from as far away as possible. He was shaking when our skin made contact, so I made sure to bump into him whenever possible. Couldn’t let them forget who the plague bearer was around here.

My sticky cuffs were pretty standard stuff, a tough band of semi-liquid plastic that only got tighter when you pulled. The sticky underside adhered to flesh on contact, meaning you’d have to rip off your own skin to get free without the chemical key. Nasty business, but nothing I hadn’t encountered, and used, before. The rig they’d brought for Rupert, on the other hand, was like nothing I’d ever seen.

The two Eyes who’d stepped up to restrain him were even more skittish than my guy, visibly shaking as they pulled Rupert’s arms behind him and locked them together in an enormous metal cuff that ran from his fists to his elbows. They cuffed his ankles as well, two metal enclosures connected by what looked like a titanium snake just long enough to allow short steps, but he’d take out his own feet if he even tried to kick. Finally, they fixed a shock collar to his neck, which I was pretty sure was actually illegal in Terran space. But the Eyes had never cared much for the law, and they seemed bent on making sure Rupert couldn’t so much as twitch without their say-so. Of course, considering his reputation and my own knowledge of what he was capable of, I’d have done no less.

Dr. Starchild had come out of his office while they were securing us, probably to make sure we didn’t hurt his station by making a scene. Nic was standing beside his father, looking like he wanted to help, but he didn’t make a move. Good thing, too, because Martin didn’t seem like a man who took interference well. He watched with cold detachment as the pair of Eyes led Rupert away, pulling him out a side door I hadn’t noticed before toward the embarkation shuttle they’d hooked to the abbot’s emergency exit. When they got there, Rupert shot me one last look before they shoved a black bag over his head and forced him onto the tiny shuttle for the trip back to the battleship waiting outside.

Even though I couldn’t see him anymore, I watched the shuttle until it flew out of view before turning my glare on Martin. “Was that really necessary? He wasn’t going to resist.”

“It was absolutely necessary,” Martin said in that dry voice. “Rupert Charkov has proven himself to be a violent and unpredictable element. I am only taking the necessary precautions to ensure the safety of those under my command.”

“If you think
Rupert’s
the violent and unpredictable element here, then you haven’t been paying attention,” I said proudly, striking a pose like my hands were behind my back because it was comfortable and not because they were bound. “So, it’s Martin, right? Are you here for our civil discussion?”

“I do not believe you are capable of such a thing, Miss Morris,” he said, holding out his hand.

Of all the symbionts, Martin had been the only one not brandishing a disrupter pistol. Now, one of the normal soldiers handed him a gun I hadn’t seen before. It was small and lightly constructed, like a civilian-grade concealable pistol. But before I could ask if he meant to tickle me to death with that peashooter, he raised the gun and fired.