Honour's Knight (11 page)

The cook took a sharp breath as I pulled him closer, but he didn’t resist, just let me move him as I liked until his hand was sitting in my lap. It was a pretty tame touch, but by the time I’d gotten him where I wanted him, my own breaths had shrunk to pants. I kept expecting the cook to ask me what I was doing, which would have been a good question, because I didn’t know myself. My body was moving on autopilot, touching his with a familiarity I couldn’t begin to explain. But though I was acting like a total freak show, taking his booze uninvited and grabbing his hand like it was my property, the cook wasn’t trying to escape. He was actually leaning closer, his body inching toward mine until I felt his forehead land on my shoulder.

I went completely still. My nightshirt was thin enough that I could feel the heat of the cook’s skin where he rested against me and the soft pressure of his breath as he inhaled deeply, like he was trying to breathe me in. At the same time, the hand I was holding tightened on mine, his long, elegant fingers closing over my palm and gripping until I could have sworn I felt him begin to shake. Drunks are usually relaxed, but the cook was so close now I could feel the tension in his body, almost like he was straining against something even as he leaned a little farther into me.

By this point, I he was vaguely aware that I should be furious over such a massive invasion of my personal space. But I’d grabbed him first, and anyway, his weight felt good against me. Right, like it should always be there. The strange madness that had made me touch him was only fanned hotter by his nearness, and with his head right next to mine, I couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to turn and press a kiss against his hair. It would feel lovely, I bet, soft as silk and warm against my lips.

I’d already started to move when I caught myself. I jerked to a stop and closed my eyes with a silent curse. Drunk or no, this was getting out of hand. I needed to leave, now, before I did something really stupid, but the insane part of me wasn’t ready to let go yet.

Since I couldn’t make peace between the half of me that wanted to flee and the half that wanted to climb on top of the cook and put the lounge couch to the test, I settled for touching his hand, running my finger down his palm to the thin black tattoo that peeked out from under the edge of his shirt’s old-fashioned button cuff. That surprised me, actually. The cook didn’t seem like the tattoo type. But when I started nudging his sleeve up to see the black mark in full, a sentence appeared in my mind.

“This life for Tanya,” I read, tilting my head to get a better look at the black markings. They were no language I’d ever seen, but that didn’t seem to matter. I knew what they said. I was trying to figure out how that could be when I realized the cook had gone stone still.

Quick as he’d caught the glass, the cook stood up, pulling away from me so deftly I didn’t even feel him moving until he was gone. I jerked up in surprise to see him stepping over the short coffee table, pulling down his sleeve as he went. The revulsion struck as soon as I looked, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he deposited my glass in the kitchen and walked to the hall door. He paused when he reached it, but he didn’t look back. Just lowered his head.

“I am sorry to have bothered you, Miss Morris,” he said, his voice polite and distant. “Have a good evening.”

Before I could answer, he was gone, leaving me alone in the dark. I stared at the closed lounge door for almost a minute before I stood and followed.

It was hard going. The whiskey had me now, and I stumbled into the hall, using the wall to keep me up as I trudged back to my bunk. The glowing bug was right where I’d left it, but I didn’t spare it another glance as I fell face-first into bed.

There were no nightmares this time. No black monster, no deaths. Instead, I dreamed I was lying on a narrow bunk in a small room while the cook made love to me with a thoroughness that took my breath away. And when I woke up flushed and panting to the hyperspace exit alarm, I was hard-pressed to say which dream was worse.

CHAPTER 4

Y
ou do not look well,” Rashid said when I walked into the lounge thirty minutes later. “Did you not sleep?”

“I slept great.”

It was embarrassing to lie about something so petty, but I’d spent my whole shower putting what had happened last night out of my head, and I wasn’t about to even brush that topic now. Rashid was still looking at me funny, though, so I hid behind my helmet, sliding it on so quickly the neuronet connectors snagged in my freshly braided hair. “Where are we?”

I’d meant the question for Rashid, but my com was on, and it was Basil who answered. “It’s”—the aeon made a deep whistling sound that vibrated my speakers—“but since your throat can’t handle that, most humans use the rough translation ‘Ample.’”

It was a fitting name. The planet we were orbiting was huge and green, its sprawling landmasses covered in a grid of verdant fields so large their boundaries were visible from space. “Lot of traffic for a farming planet,” I said, eying the dense swarm of ships around us and the even larger clump waiting to use the jump gate floating in orbit around Ample’s moon.

“There’s always traffic in the Sevalis,” Caldswell said, his dry voice buzzing over my com. “This is actually light. You should see the pileups around the Seval itself.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Aren’t we already in the Seval?”

“We’re in the
Sevalis
,” Basil snapped. “The
Seval
is the name of the aeon home planet. Honestly, don’t they teach you anything besides how to kill each other in Paradoxian schools?”

I probably had learned about the Seval at some point, but that was a long time ago, and anyway, I wasn’t about to pass up an opening like that. “Oh sure,” I said. “We also studied poultry butchering. I can demonstrate it for you sometime if you like.”

I could almost hear Basil’s feathers poofing up at that, but before the bird could retaliate, Caldswell cut him off. “Prepare for landing. We’re on a schedule, people.”

Despite being a farming planet, Ample had several cities. Huge ones, actually, with blocks of high-rises so big and tall they looked like mountains. Unlike Wuxia, though, or any other heavily populated planet I’d ever seen, including Paradox, there was no urban sprawl. The huge, vertical cities just ended, skyscrapers giving way to lush fields with nothing but a road between them. We landed in an empty field a few miles away from one such transition, but even though we were close enough to walk into town if we wanted, there was nothing around us. Just the dusty landing field sitting like a brown island in a vast green sea of farmland.

After the traffic we’d seen coming in, the emptiness was jarring. I didn’t spot so much as a single aeon out in the fields. In fact, from the line of combine harvesters I could see moving on the horizon, it looked like everything here was automated, which was a letdown. Being so far from the Sevalis, Paradox had almost nothing to do with the aeons. Consequently, I’d never been on an aeon world before. Colonies were all well and good, but this was my first time on an honest to god alien planet. I’d run down to open the cargo door like a kid on King’s Day the moment Basil cut the thrusters, so you can imagine my disappointment when, instead of a mysterious world full of gloriously colored alien birds, I got automated farm equipment and a bunch of plants.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

“In the cities,” said a cheerful voice behind me. “Aeons can’t relax unless they’re packed in like fish in a can.”

I glanced at my rear camera to see Mabel coming out of the engine room with her cat in her arms. The captain’s sister-in-law had traded her mechanic’s coveralls for a colorful shirt, shorts, and a huge straw hat. She looked like a tourist, and because I’m the helpful sort, I told her so.

“And you look like an invasion force,” Mabel said, setting Pickers gently on the floor before reaching up to touch the brim of her hat. “It keeps the sun out. It’s bright here.”

It was. Ample’s sun was surprisingly strong, but the air was just warm, not hot. Perfect growing weather. “What are we here for again?”

“Ground nuts,” Mabel said. “Assuming my order got through.”

I made a face. “We’re shipping nuts?”

“We’ve been doing
that
for years,” Mabel said with a laugh. “And for your information, Ample’s ground nuts are excellent profit per pound. Out here the price is low, but when we get closer to the Seval we can charge through the nose for them.”

That perked me up. “We’re going to the Seval?” Maybe I would get to see some birds after all.

“With an aeon for a pilot?” Mabel snorted. “Can’t avoid it. It’s the pull.”

I frowned. “Pull?”

“The homing instinct.”

I gave her a blank look, and Mabel tried again. “Aeons feel a constant pull toward their home planet. That’s why they’re the best navigators in the galaxy, because no matter where they are in the universe, they always know which direction home is, no equipment needed. And the farther away from the Seval they are, the stronger the pull gets. That’s why the Sevalis controls such a relatively small area of space even though aeons outnumber humans two to one. They’re trying to stay close to home.” She paused, thinking. “Being near other aeons helps too, I’m told. That’s why you’ll never find an aeon city that doesn’t look like they’re all trying to stack on top of one another. Comfort in numbers.”

“I guess that explains why Basil is always in such a bad mood,” I said. “He’s all alone.”

Mabel’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about? Basil’s a doll for an aeon.”

I grimaced, suddenly glad that our section of Ample was so empty. If
Basil
was a doll, I never wanted to meet another aeon.

“Though I imagine he’ll be a pill for the next few weeks,” Mabel went on with a sigh. “The flock mentality can make him as pecky as the rest.”

I was about to ask what she meant by that when the heavy sound of boots cut me off. We both looked up to see Caldswell coming down the cargo bay steps. Rashid was there too, suited up and serene as always. Next to him, the captain looked downright sour. “You ready to get this over with?”

“Just waiting on you,” Mabel said.

Caldswell nodded and turned to me. “We should be back before dark. Keep up normal patrols and don’t slack just because there’s nothing around but plants and tractors.”

I straightened up with a scowl. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t slack.”

To my surprise, Caldswell smiled at that. “I know, Morris, I know,” he said, trotting down the ramp after Mabel. “Keep an eye on the new kid.”

Rashid was fifty if he was a day, but he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the captain’s comment. He was dressed for business, too, with his sniper and assault rifle strapped over his back. He’d moved both pistols to thigh holsters to make room at his waist for an ammo belt that put my spare clips to shame, and there was a broad tactical knife at the small of his back that, judging from the wear on its handle, had seen a lot of use.

I looked him over with an appreciative whistle. “Ready for a war?”

He shrugged. “Considering the reputation of this ship, it seemed wise.”

I couldn’t help laughing at that. “If you knew what you were getting into, I’m surprised you took the job at all.”

“A man must eat,” Rashid replied, resting his hands on his pistol grips as he watched Mabel and Caldswell get into the nicer of the ship’s two atmospheric skimmers and set off for the city. “And I am good at staying alive.”

Looking at his arsenal, I believed it. “How do you want to work this?”

“It should be simple, I think,” Rashid said, pulling his handset out of one of his chest pockets. He flipped it open, hit a few buttons, and then turned it around for me to see.

My eyes widened. His handset screen was divided up into ten small squares, each showing a different scene, but it still took me a few moments to realize that I was looking at a grid of the
Fool
’s security camera feeds. All of them.

“Holy shit,” I said, grabbing the handset from him. “How did you get this?”

Rashid shrugged. “I asked Miss Starchild to patch me into the ship’s security system.” He gave me a look that, were it any less polite, would have been insultingly smug. “We are paid to be watchers. It seems absurd, then, not to watch with all the eyes available.”

I could have punched myself in the face. I’d been on this ship for over three months now and it had never even
occurred
to me that I could ask for such a thing. Before I could get really pissed, though, Rashid took his handset back with a self-deprecating smile.

“Do not think I am so clever, Miss Morris. It is just experience. I’ve been told you were a Blackbird mercenary before this, used to far bigger worries. I, on the other hand, have been doing security work for many years, and I am well acquainted with all the little shortcuts.” His smile widened. “Old dogs pick up many tricks in time.”

I shook my head with a grin of my own. “I am
so
glad we hired you.”

“I am delighted to hear it,” Rashid said. “Now, as I was saying, I think I will set up on the roof and keep an eye on the cameras.”

“And I’ll take the ground,” I said with a nod. “Guns up top, armor on bottom.” Smooth and professional.

Just the thought made me feel better. I try not to indulge in self-pity, but things had been rough for me lately. After making such an idiot of myself in front of the cook last night, executing a smooth, professional job with a man who knew what he was doing sounded like heaven.

Since the hatch hadn’t been part of our tour, I took Rashid up to the
Fool
’s roof myself. It was a good position for a sniper. There were no other ships on the landing field, and the terrain here was so flat you could see for miles in all directions. Still, I made sure he had everything he needed before hopping off the ship.

I might have been showing off a little, but after Rashid had shown me up so badly with the cameras, I was in the mood to prove something. My suit handled the eight-story drop from the
Fool
’s highest point with barely a twinge. I landed perfectly, rolling to my feet to the sound of Rashid’s polite praise over our com.