her instruments 02 - rose point (11 page)

“Good, because we’re ready to go,” Reese said, and waited for him to enter first. He passed through the airlock and into the ship that had been his home for nearly a year: had become his home, when he had been torn loose from his first by circumstance and too many difficult memories. He listened to Kis’eh’t and Reese as they traded information with the ease of long acquaintance, left them behind to head for the quarters he’d been assigned. Once in them, he sat on the bunk and took his first deep breath since his injury.

This ship he could leave behind; his attachment to it had nothing to do with it and everything to do with its crew. They had stood by him, had rescued him from villains they would ordinarily have been terrified to face on their own. They were a family he would have been proud to be born to.

And yet, they could not help him now.

He needed to go home.

“Where to this time?” Sascha asked. “And please don’t tell me ‘another backwater possibly infested with slavers.’”

“There are no slavers in this system,” Reese said.

“Yet,” Irine murmured.

Reese eyed her, then said, “Nearest starbase. We’ll see if we can offload some of this alcohol. And honestly…” She sighed. “I just want to stop moving for a while.”

Irine brightened, ears perking. “You mean like a vacation?”

Reese glanced out the viewport. “Maybe like a vacation, yes. But not like the one on Harat-Sharii.”

“So… where?” Sascha asked, fingers tapping commands on the board.

“If I knew that, we’d be going there.” Reese sighed. “Can I be honest with you?” They both looked at her then, and their expressions were compassionate rather than offended, so she finished. “I want to go somewhere safe for a change. Everywhere we’ve gone lately, there’s been a bomb waiting to go off. That dump we dragged Hirianthial out of the first time, it started this whole mess. Then we ended up on Harat-Sharii—no offense, but that was awful—and then Mars, where I got disowned. And then the ice ball where I murdered three loads of aliens, and I’d probably be in jail for that except the crystals keep being completely disinterested in the topic when the first contact teams attempt to bring it up. And the whole mess after that with the Fleet action… even space hasn’t felt safe, after those pirates chasing us. I just want…” She rubbed her forehead. “I want to be able to relax for once.”

“It’s a big universe,” Irine said. “There’s got to be somewhere, Reese.”

“And a starbase isn’t a bad start,” Sascha added. “I doubt many pirates are interested on taking a run at a place with active Fleet military bases overseeing things.”

She smiled, rueful. “So you don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Angels, Boss,” Sascha said. “I think we all want a rest. Even those of us who like steady adventure need some downtime.”

“Downtime would be good,” Irine agreed, and leaned over to pat Reese on the knee. “Maybe we can take one of those starbase cruises I keep hearing about, where they go off to see comet tails or whatever.”

“Knowing our luck, it would explode,” Reese said.

Sascha coughed and pressed his hand to his nose. Irine glanced at her brother, then said, “He’s right. Maybe what we should do is take you to a temple and have you ritually cleansed, see if they find a curse or two.”

“You think we could pay the priests in alcohol?”

“I haven’t met a priest who didn’t drink,” Sascha said. He tapped one more glowing square on the console. The deckplates beneath Reese’s boots began to quiver. “And… we’re off. One week and we’ll be back in civilization again.”

She stood. “Thanks, you two.”

“Don’t mention it. Getting off this planet was a pleasure,” Sascha said. As she headed for the lift, he added, “Boss? Do you want us to talk to him about that issue?”

She glanced at him, then said, “I… don’t know. Do you have anything useful to tell him about it?”

The twins exchanged glances. Irine said, “Maybe not. But he might just want to talk.”

“It’s up to you,” Reese said after a moment. “Freedom knows I don’t know what to say about it.”

“I guess we’ll improvise,” Sascha said. “Go take a nap, ah?”

“Yes sir,” Reese said, much to their amusement, and left them the bridge.

The trip from Kerayle was unremarkable, not a given what with the
Earthrise’s
recent history. Hirianthial spent the first few days engaged in his normal routine, though he did not speak much to the others when he met them in the mess or on the way to the shared bathroom. Bryer no doubt found his silences unremarkable, being a creature of few words himself, but he knew the others worried.

He had made his decision, and having made it was resolved. But he also didn’t want to linger over the reasons he had to leave, and perhaps that was why he waited until they were nearly to the starbase to begin packing. He had few possessions—he could fit them all in one bag and one case—but with the exception of the clothes much of it required careful packing. Once it was done, he put the bag beneath his bunk with the case and surveyed the room. He had never regretted traveling light, but seeing how similar his room looked after having packed made him question his motivations for doing so. He had never expected to find another home, perhaps. Or to be comfortable anywhere for long.

He didn’t expect that to change, even when he set foot again on the homeworld.

The door alert sounding didn’t surprise him; he’d been awaiting this inevitable visit. But when he called permission, it was not Reese who stepped inside, but the twins. He stood to offer them the bed and took the remaining chair in the room. “Ariisen? What can I do for you?”

They looked at one another, the light gliding off their tawny eyes. Then they sat; Irine slipped her hand into Sascha’s and the two of them looked at him, as attentive as children, and somehow as innocent. There was a softness to their auras, as if it could be as furred as their pelts.

“We heard you had a rough time down there,” Sascha said without preamble.

“And thought you might want to talk,” Irine added. She liked to pick at her tail when nervous, which explained why she was holding her brother’s hand instead. He could sense the greasy unease beneath the velvet, a viscosity so palpable he wondered if he could smooth it away.

“That is a kind offer,” he said after a long moment. “But I would not be sure what there would be to talk about. I have mended, as you see.”

“There’s mended, and there’s mended.” Irine’s ears flipped back, though her voice remained calm. “Some things don’t mend on the inside without help.”

That was a striking bit of wisdom, and applicable, if not to the hurts they thought they were addressing. He inclined his head, trying to decide how to honor their concern and the friendship that had moved them to offer their aid while also preserving his privacy. He very much did not want to share his true fears with them, for he couldn’t imagine their feeling for him surviving the knowledge that he was now walking a path that had been opened by a mentally unstable mass murderer. At last, he said, “Do you know what sustained me?” He didn’t look up, but he could sense the sharpness of their attention. “The memories you wove into the gift you made me.” He lifted his head so they could measure the sincerity in his eyes. “It was truly without price, that gift. Your help was there.”

“When you needed it,” Irine said.

“Yes.”

“If you’re sure…” She sounded reluctant.

“Without question.”

Sascha nodded. “If you ever want to talk, you know where to find us.” He grinned. “Just remember to knock.”

He smiled at that. “Always.”

As they left, he wondered at the colors their auras had shifted: from the greasy gray of fear to something hard and bright as diamonds. It felt like resolve, and one so powerful he wondered what they’d been inspired to do.

“He’s going to bolt,” Sascha said, ears flat.

Reese was sitting at the desk in her room, studying her data tablet. “I know.”

“You know?” Irine said, startled.

“Yes, I know.” Reese set the tablet aside and waved them in. “It doesn’t take a genius. Are you surprised?”

Sascha didn’t answer, so his sister took up the conversation. “He’s put everything away,” Irine said. “The things on his table are missing. And he talked to us like… we were already out of his life.”

“Because we are,” Sascha said, arms tightly folded. “The moment we dock, he’ll be on his way somewhere. But why? Do you think….” When he didn’t finish the thought, both Reese and Irine glanced at him. He looked away, grimacing. “Do you think maybe he blames us for not rescuing him in time?” Irine inhaled and he rushed on. “We’ve always managed to get to him before they could really hurt him before. But this time… this time we failed.”

Reese hadn’t considered that possibility, but she discarded it instantly. “No. That’s not like him. It’s more likely he’d blame himself for anything that happened.”

Irine frowned, thinking. “That is more in character. But I don’t get it. Why’s he leaving, Reese? Did he just get tired all of a sudden of being targeted? Or maybe he wants to settle down somewhere safer than with us?”

But Sascha was staring at Reese, eyes narrowed. “You knew. What are you planning?”

“I did know,” she said. She remembered a figure kneeling alongside a corpse, bent with more than physical pain. “And it’s not about us, or anything we did or didn’t do. He’s upset, and maybe he’s thinking straight or maybe he’s not, but wherever he’s going or whatever he’s doing, we’re not going to make him do it alone.”

“I can get behind that,” Sascha said, ears flipping forward and spine straightening. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m already working on my part.” Reese tapped the data tablet. “Your job is to make sure he doesn’t vanish into the crowd once we dock.”

Irine peered at the tablet. “What’s your part?”

“Making sure we can take him where he needs to go,” Reese said.

“Which is where?” she asked, tail twitching.

“Home,” Reese said. “Back to the Eldritch.” She met their eyes. “Talk to the others, all right? The more of you keeping track of him, the better.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Sascha said, rising. He paused. “Um, Boss?”

Reese sighed. “Let me guess. This is the part where you ask me the impertinent questions.”

“She knows us so well,” Sascha said to Irine, who managed a weak smile. He turned his attention back to her. “How come?”

“How come what?” She folded her arms.

“You’re helping him,” Irine said. “A few months ago we had to talk you into just letting him stay. And now you’re chasing him? What changed?”

What could she tell them when she didn’t even know herself? But her resentment at him for knowing her so intimately hadn’t survived seeing him brought so low. Had she been so worried about him hurting him? How could she sustain her anger when she saw what he’d been through? What he kept being put through? That look in his eyes when she’d first touched him in the tent...

What had changed? She gave them the only answer that made any sense. “I did.”

They looked at one another, then Irine smiled, a bright smile like sunlight and summer. Sascha grinned. “We’re on our part of it, Boss. You do yours.”

“Get out already, then,” she said, but she was smiling.

Once the twins had left, Reese turned back to her tablet. The message she was composing would be sent to an address she’d been given to use in emergencies. She knew very well that it wasn’t a real address, that her message would be received, encrypted, and bounced all over the Alliance before it reached its real recipient. But she’d stumbled into this relationship, and up until now it had been a one-way street. It was time to see whether there was any chance of reciprocation.

She spent a long time going over the note, rewording it, occasionally checking with some of her romance novels to get the right flowery sound. When she replaced one word for the fourth time, she realized she was procrastinating and sent it off.

To my patron—

I have rendered my services faithfully and I hope you’ve been pleased with the results. The person you charged me to aid wants to return home, and I would like to apply for permission to bring him myself. I am also in possession of some trade items that might be of particular interest to you.

I await your response, and hope for it to arrive before my charge makes alternate arrangements.

Yours,

Theresa Eddings

In two days, the
Earthrise
would reach the starbase. Reese hoped the Queen would get her an answer before then.

Hirianthial was not aware of making any plans to prevent the crew from stopping him. He knew better than to look too closely at his own actions. To explain the reasons for his departure was impossible, and he knew if he told anyone he was leaving, he would not be able to hold fast in the face of their inevitable pleas not to go. But go he must, so as much as he hated to do it, he did not disembark the moment the
Earthrise
settled safely at its assigned docking bay. No, he waited, accepted the disbursed pay along with the rest of the crew, and watched them scatter for the city beyond the port. As he expected, Reese headed back into the ship; she paused at the airlock and said, “Off to enjoy the sights?”

“It would be good to walk a while,” he said.

Her gaze was considering; she looked not only at his eyes but his face, as if seeking something... or memorizing him? He found it an unusually incisive expression, and yet her aura was liquescent with sorrow over a very steady core.

What was she thinking? And how ironic that she had told him she feared him knowing her thoughts. Without consciously choosing to seek them, he had only the information granted him by her emotional state, and often all that did was intensify the mystery.

“Well,” she said, smiling. “Have a good walk, then. Stretch the legs out. You won’t have a chance again for a while.... I plan to button up and head out again within a few days.”

“Of course,” he said.

Her eyes lingered on him for another heartbeat, and then she turned her back on him, very deliberately, and walked into the ship.