Space Wrangler (17 page)

“Almost nonexistent.”

“Don't be brave. They'll give you excellent pain meds. If you don't want them, give 'em to me.” The blonde arched a teasing eyebrow, then she barked toward a young man at the reception desk, “Hey Carlos, get over here. My friend's been poisoned.”

Carlos hurried over, a look of concern on his face. “We've been expecting you, Ms. Montoya. Do you need a wheel chair?”

Alexia laughed. “Lana's joking. I'm practically fine. You're Carlos? Call me Alexia.” She studied his tall, slender form, huge brown eyes, and long dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She had a second cousin in Colombia who looked a lot like this guy, and it reminded her that except for Christmas cards filled with generous money orders, she hadn't had any contact with the extended family in years.

Six years, to be exact.

“Take good care of my friend,” Lana said with a warm smile. “And don't flirt with her. She belongs to the boss man.”

Carlos flushed. “Go away, Lana. And Ms. Montoya? Just follow me. The doctor will see you in a minute.”

Once they had settled into an exam room, Carlos pulled out a light tablet and read off a checklist of possible symptoms. She almost embellished her condition but decided to stick with headache and “metal mouth”. And meanwhile, she felt a sense of dismay that the
real
poisoning victims apparently suffered from severe cramps in the lower back and stomach, dehydration, tingling in their extremities, sore throats, nightmares and for the worst cases, full-on delusion.

“I guess I was lucky,” she told the nurse solemnly.

“I can't believe you took your glove off and actually touched a Titan.”

“It was worth it.”

“
I'll
be the judge of that,” a cheerful voice announced from the hall, and a short, smiling woman who looked to be fifty-five or sixty stepped into the room. She had bright, inquisitive eyes and wavy gray hair pulled into a ponytail much like that of her nurse. And like the nurse she wore a traditional white lab coat over black pants and a white shirt.

Uh-oh, she looks tough
.

“I'm Margaret Bodin, but everyone calls me Dr. Meg. And you're Alexia Montoya. Let's have a look at you. Carlos? You can go. I'll let you know if we need anything else.”

The nurse gave Alexia an encouraging smile, then hurried out of the room as though the clinic were jumping, when in actuality, there didn't appear to be any other patients on the premises.

Deciding to make this quick, she told the doctor, “It's just a little headache. And a sensation of metal in my mouth.”

“On your tongue?”

Uh oh
.

Alexia had no choice but to bluster through. “It's faint but icky. Like in the olden times when they used metal to repair people's teeth. It probably tasted just like this, right? So barbaric.”

Meg nodded. “Tell me about the exposure.”

“It couldn't have been longer than ten seconds. I was all bundled up, then just briefly took off my goggles and one glove, ran my hand along the Titan's shoulder, and then the captain rushed me to the decon shower.”

“And by captain, you mean Captain Rick Gage of the
Drifter
?” Meg arched an eyebrow. “Mr. Seaton's secretary gave me some background.”

“Is it relevant?” Alexia asked, her tone unintentionally challenging.

“Actually, yes. I'm told the
Drifter
is advanced, even for D-side. When I heard your exposure was brief, I wondered if the headache came from the new ACTs. They're supposedly safe, but they also allow the ship to go faster than usual. I firmly believe our bodies are being stressed beyond their limits with this endless craving for faster travel.”

“Actually, I slept like a baby in both of the ACTs I tried so far. I didn't feel any difference in the
Drifter
from the one in the Venus transporter.”

“And the headache didn't start right away? That's unusual.”

Alexia winced. “It came and went. I didn't take it too seriously until—well, after dinner. And I thought the metal taste was just my imagination. How long do you think it will last?”

Meg pursed her lips. “Another day or two at most. I can give you something for the pain, but the only real cure is time, rest and lots of liquids.” She pulled a clear bottle of pink pills from her coat pocket. “One every twelve hours. They're potent, so don't overdo it.”

“Great, I really appreciate it.” Alexia slid off the exam table, anxious to get out before the doctor discovered her scam.

But Meg deftly blocked her exit. “We're not done, Alexia. I have a few more questions, then you can go.”

“What kind of questions?”

Meg smiled. “We'll get to that. But first, you should know Mr. Seaton wants a full report of your exam.”

“You mean TJ, not David, right? That's fine with me. I don't have any secrets from him.”

She must have said that too quickly, because Meg's eyebrow quirked. “Really? None at all?”

“I'm an open book.”

“Well then, hop back up on the table,” Meg said, this time in a no-nonsense voice. “And to clarify, I will be giving TJ a report of the physical exam, but not the rest.”

“The rest of what?” Alexia tried not to panic. It hadn't even occurred to her that the doctor would want to do a full physical. Maybe even a GYN work-up. Which could mean the “full report” to TJ could include details about her recently used and undoubtedly still glowing female parts.

Meg seemed to sense her unease and explained quickly, “We're just going to have a little chat. Because I care about you, and it's time someone in my profession talked straight with you about your brother.”

For the next five minutes, Meg channeled every doctor Alexia had met since the day Trent disappeared in the sinkhole. It was always the same lecture, beginning with gentle condolences then moving to assurances that everything she was feeling was normal but, if taken to an extreme, could be dangerous.

“I appreciate your concern,” she told the physician. “But it's under control, I promise.”

Meg's voice grew syrupy sweet. “Like it or not, you belong to all of us. Because we all love you. The last remaining Montoya.”

Alexia bit back a retort. She was so tired of hearing that. Doctors, shrinks, scientists, professors—they were all so sure they had the right to speak up. So sure they could set her straight.

So sure Trent was dead and gone.

Without warning, Rick's parting words rang in her ears:
When you see your brother, tell him I said hi.

He had said it casually, almost as if he believed it was possible. And even if he was just humoring her, it had meant so much at the moment, and now seemed even more important. A lifeline, in fact.

“TJ Seaton loves you too,” Meg continued with another, more patronizing smile. “He wants to help you come to terms with your shared loss.”

“If he wants to help, he'll give me access to the sentient computer. And if
you
really want to help, you'll convince him to do that.” She eyed Meg sternly. “It's my right as a Montoya. My brother designed it. And I'm part owner of the company.”

“That's why you're here?” Meg frowned. “And what happens when he gives you access to the prototype and you learn the truth yet again? That your brother could not have survived the sinkhole for more than two weeks. Will you give up the search?” Her eyebrow arched in creepy condemnation. “I don't think so. You've heard this before. You
know
it intellectually, but refuse to accept it. You're not just hurting yourself, you're hurting everyone around you. Especially TJ.”

“TJ?”

“He's lonely, Alexia.”

She refused to be manipulated so lightly. “
Lots
of people are lonely.”

“True. But TJ Seaton is the loneliest man I've ever met.”

“That's because you've never met Captain Gage.
He's
lonelier than anyone, ever.” When the doctor just stared, she explained. “He lost his entire family. All his friends and comrades. And now he's living in exile in the far reaches of an alien solar system, millions of miles from the closest living soul.”

“It's tragic,” Meg agreed with a shrug. “But don't you see? Isolation is Captain Gage's choice. And from what I've heard, it's probably the healthy one. He
chose
to be alone. That's not the same as being lonely.”

“TJ made choices too,” Alexia retorted, her voice more strident than intended. “He turned his back on my brother and me. He can change that any time he wants.”

Meg seemed shocked again. “TJ grieved for your brother. His friend and partner. Then he moved on with his life. A life without you, his only link to happiness. In that sense,
you're
the one who's turning your back. On him.”

Alexia jumped off the table and strode to the doorway. “Thanks for treating my headache, Doctor. Feel free to share our conversation with your boss. Like I said, I'm an open book. Especially since everyone in the
goddamned
world is so
goddamned
sure they know what's best for me.”

“Alexia!” Meg grabbed her arm and spoke fervently. “You need to move on. Don't you want to have a family someday?”

Tears rushed to her eyes. “I
have
a family. His name is Trent. What's wrong with you?
All
of you! What gives you the right? I hate you all!”

“What's going on in here?” TJ demanded from behind her. “Lexie?”

She spun and threw herself into his arms, sobbing against his chest. “Help me find Trent. Please, TJ?
Please?
”

“Dammit, Meg,” he growled over her head. Then he pulled Alexia closer. “Don't cry, sweetheart. We'll work this out somehow, I promise.”

She raised her face to his. “You'll take me to the sentient?”

His blue eyes sparkled. “I've got something better than that.”

“Oh for God's sake,” she said, pulling free and glaring.

He chuckled. “It's not
that
. Give me some credit. Although there was a time when it impressed you, remember?”

A laugh bubbled up inside her. “Don't be an idiot. Dr. Meg thinks you're a nice guy. Try not to ruin that.”

TJ grinned, but his expression grew cold when he turned to Meg and said, “We'll discuss this later.”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Seaton.”

“Just send the report to my secretary. Although I can see with my own eyes that Ms. Montoya is fine. Or at least, she was before this appointment.”

Alexia winced. “Dr. Bodin gave me some pain pills. I'm grateful to her for that.”

He patted her cheek, then asked Meg, “Just a headache, then?”

“And some mild dysgeusia,” the doctor said, explaining quickly, “That's the sensation of metal they get so often. She'll need rest and hydration but she'll be fine.”

“Well then…” His expression warmed. “Thanks, Meg. Try to resist playing psychologist in the future. We've got a chaplain for that, don't we?”

“He'd give the same advice,” Meg began, then she stopped herself and gave Alexia a sincere smile. “I apologize for upsetting you. Get some rest. Let Mr. Seaton take care of you.”

“Now
that
,” TJ said, wrapping his arm around Alexia's shoulders and leading her down the hall, “is what I call good advice.”

“I agree,” she admitted, snuggling close to his side. “Pamper me to death. But first, we need to talk.”

“I agree.” He paused in mid-step to tilt her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “I've got something important to say to you, Lexie. Something long overdue. But not here. So come on, let's go to my penthouse.”

Chapter Twelve

“May I ask what you are thinking, Captain Gage?”

Rick could barely tear his attention away from the miniature red beacon in his hand. Not that it was flashing, which was actually part of the problem. “It's nothing, Sensie. Get back to work.”

“You are thinking about Alexia again?”

He gave a long, low growl. “If you must know, I'm regretting that I didn't give this signaling device to her before I left.”

There was a long pause before the computer told him flatly, “We are out of range for that beacon. We have been out of range for one point three hours. What reason could there be to leave it with Alexia? It would not be useful to her even if problems befell her.”

He turned the ruby-colored object over in his fingers. “It's a symbol, Sensie. You wouldn't understand.”

“A symbol of love?” she suggested, and when Rick didn't respond, she asked more forcefully, “If you love her, why did you leave her?”

“Back off,” he ordered the computer angrily. “She didn't
want
me to stay. And I didn't want to stay. And I didn't effing leave her, I just stayed on course. Is that so effing tough to understand?”

“Not at all. She wanted you to leave. And you left. I am simply confused as to what purpose the beacon might have served. We are out of range—”

“Yeah, I get that.” He took a long, deep breath. Maybe he should just get into the ACT and be done with it. He could travel faster, farther, and more silently. Oblivious to the rest of the world. By the time Sensie roused him, he'd be half a million miles from the platform.

He had postponed that logical move for illogical reasons, namely, so he wouldn't increase the distance between himself and Alexia so dramatically, so quickly.

It was nuts.

“We should head out of this sector, Sensie. The sooner the better.”

“I would agree, Captain, if not for the promising thug in the distance.”

“Huh?” He scowled. “It's too early in the game to bag a thug. We'd have to haul him all the way to Sector Fourteen and then back again. What the hell are you smoking?”

When the computer didn't respond, he chuckled and adopted a coaxing tone. “What's so special about this guy? In your professional opinion.”

The compliment worked. “He is gigantic, Captain. A true behemoth. Even if you choose to retire after today and make babies with Alexia Montoya, you would still be famous if you manage to snare this giant.”

“Nice mind-fuck, Sensie,” he said with a laugh. “No one's retiring. Or making babies. But this thug sounds amazing, so bring him up on the forward screen.”

When the computer complied, Rick stared in disbelief. For some reason he had thought Sensie was just baiting him. Or rather, trying to rouse him from his fixation with Alexia. But this monster was exceptional. The biggest Rick had ever seen, aside from the Titans. And considering his experience, he suspected it was also the biggest—by at least five-thousand tons—that
any
human had ever seen.

“The lariat will not smite him, Captain. Not even if I employ every laser cannon.”

“The lariat
will
hold him,” Rick assured her, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he darted onto the viewing deck. “Just use the tactic we talked about last week. Approach him from the right side. And flash six rockets to the left. If we can throw him off balance, we can grab him.”

“I disagree, sir. Vehemently.”

“That's why you're a sentient and I'm a human. Idiocy has its advantages, so just follow my lead, will you?”

When Sensie's display of lasers and lights erupted into view before his admiring eyes, he knew they would capture this fucker or die trying. Man and machine versus robotic hulk—even if the man was lost in space, the machine was an obstinate female, and the robotic hulk had alien technology and overwhelming mass.

Neanderthal versus mammoth
, he reminded himself, recalling the image he had concocted during his very first attempt at wrangling a thug. He had tried to imagine his great-great-great grandfather versus a buffalo, but it had seemed laughable, given the size of a metal monster in front of him. So he had gone back further in his lineage—in every human's lineage—and had found true inspiration.

“Now, Sensie!” he barked.

And the rest was pre-history in the making. Sensie's flares didn't distract the beast for long. Just a split second, really. But long enough for Rick to wield his lariat. The thug resisted, yanked, fired and even seemed to swell larger. In the hands of a lesser wrangler, he would have broken free over the ensuing minutes of back-breaking, mind-numbing struggle. But instead, Rick used those minutes to his advantage, while using the behemoth's energy against him as though he were a fish on a line. Just enough to deplete his energy stores, not enough for him to break free. Again and again they struggled, and sometimes the thug got the upper hand. But every time things seemed hopeless, Rick and Sensie regained control.

Despite his bravado, he knew this one might get away. The thug was simply too gigantic. And Rick, for all his expertise, might not be able to pull it off.

And so, when his enemy weakened for the last time, and Sensie trapped him with the tow beam, Rick burst into loud, jubilant laughter.

He had needed this after Alexia. The perfect way to free himself from her.

“Captain?

“Yeah, we've got him,” he told the computer proudly. “I'll help you reel him in since he's such a monster, but yeah. We earned our pay for the day.”

“There's something else, Captain Gage. A message. It's on screen now.”

His mind could barely adjust to the change in focus, but he dutifully turned his attention to the monitor, only to see lines of static where words should have been. “Looks like Sea-Mont screwed up its transmission.”

“This message is not from Sea-Mont, Captain. It is from Captain Zeke Angelus, using the bootleg channel. And it is ominous. I'll try to stabilize it. If not, I will read it to you myself.”

“Zeke Angelus?” Rick's heart almost stopped as the rush of adrenaline from his struggle with the thug deserted him, plunging him into dread. The smuggler? Alexia's contact in times of peril? “What the hell? Read it to me, for fuck's sake. Wait! It's clearing up. Fuck…”

The message sharpened into view.
Greetings, Captain Gage. Zeke Angelus here, Captain of the
Ace of Hearts
. Remember me? The guy with an ace up his sleeve? You've got a problem, brother. And I'm willing to help. To a point. But your so-called friend TJ can squash me like a bug, so wise up. He thinks you're selling infodroid carcasses on the black market and he'll pay me well for evidence. Lucky for you, I don't turn on friends. So get your act together. I'll throw him off the scent, but if you're up to something, clean it up pronto. Sincerely, Captain Zeke Angelus.

Rick's pulse steadied. Infodroid carcasses? This wasn't about Alexia?

She wasn't in danger after all?

Exhaling in relief, he pulled the red beacon from his flight-suit pocket and grinned. Safe and sound, no need for panic.

“Captain? What shall we do?”

“Huh?”

“TJ Seaton suspects us of machinations. Aren't you alarmed?”

He chuckled. “We'll deal with it, Sensie. It's not life or death, right? Thank God.”

As always when she thought he was dead wrong, the computer stayed silent for longer than usual. Then she said graciously, “I am certain you know what you're doing, Captain Gage. Shall we store the behemoth in the hold? Or tow him behind us to save fuel? Or perhaps you'd like to just release him back into space for sentimental reasons?”

“You're a riot, Sensie.” He grinned, elated to know Alexia was safe. “Put him in the hold for hyper space. We'll tow him when we get to the next sector. But first…” He stared out into the starlit distance. “Don't you wonder what this guy was protecting? Why did they build him so huge? He must be protecting something valuable. A group of nymphs, maybe? Or one with super capacity? Or…”

He didn't dare articulate what he was really thinking. Was it a second sinkhole? Just like Alexia dreamed might exist? Wouldn't he be her hero if he discovered something like that?

Not that he wanted to be her hero, since that would just complicate her life. But he respected her mission. Respected her brother. And who was he kidding? He'd love to free her from her need to access the Sea-Mont sentient, wouldn't he?

Then she'd
really
call him cowboy.

“Hey, Sensie? Can you scan this sector again? And this time, test for unusual phenomena, not just for infodroids.”

“Unusual phenomena? Please provide an example, Captain. I don't understand what you mean.”

He winced. “I mean, this hulk is extraordinary. Which means he was protecting—or monitoring—something equally extraordinary.”

“I don't understand.”

“Check for an effing sinkhole, okay? And don't give me a bunch of logical crap about it, just do it.”

“Right away, Captain.”

“Wait!” He shook his head, disgusted with himself. “I know it's a long shot. Crazy long. But humor me, okay?”

“Of course, Captain.”

“And Sensie?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Nice work today. You're the best.”

“As are you. And now, if we have traded sufficient pleasantries, I will begin my sweep for sinkholes.”

As she and TJ strolled across the platform holding hands, Alexia decided sixty-seven degrees and an eight-mile-per-hour wind were in fact the perfect weather. TJ was a genius to have adopted it. A hero to have given Meg Bodin a piece of his mind. And now he was promising her a surprise, something he should have done “long ago”.

That could only mean one thing, couldn't it? He was taking her to the sentient.

The guard greeted her reverently, and she smiled in return, speechless with anticipation. She tried to catch a clue from TJ's expression in the elevator, but he seemed as giddy as she was and almost as dazed. Finally, they entered his penthouse and he motioned for her to walk ahead of him into the living room, saying only, “My lady.”

“What are you up to?” she asked with a light laugh, but she followed his instructions and then gasped in confused delight. The room was filled with images—floating photos, free-standing holographs and wall projections that were crisper and more vibrant than the best displays in the best museums on Earth.

Roberto and Trent. Trent and Alexia. Trent and TJ. Trent alone, Trent in a professional group. Receiving awards. Climbing into space vessels. In every shot, her brother's image shone brightly, as though the genius in his mind were permeating every molecule of his tall, lanky body.

For the third time that day, her eyes filled with tears. “What is this?”

“It's my best friend,” TJ told her simply.

“Oh my God…” She wandered through the vibrant array, allowing the energy, the beauty, the sensations of life, to permeate her own awareness. As crazy as it seemed, she was with Trent at this moment. Not just in the past, which was palpable thanks to TJ, but right now. In this moment. In this room.

Finally she turned to him and whispered, “Where did you get these? When did you do this?
How
did you do this?”

“I've been collecting them since the day it happened. Adding new pictures whenever I find them. Designing it, refining it. Sometimes
living
in it for hours on end.” He flashed a shaky smile. “I was almost afraid to show it to you.”

“Why? My God, it's gorgeous.”

“I thought you might think it was morbid. Or too final. I don't mean it that way—”

“Are you serious? If I ever, ever needed proof he's still alive…” She broke down in sobs of awed confusion and catapulted herself against his chest. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Shhh…” He patted her back while his fingers tangled in her hair, caressing her gently. “I did it for myself, but I prayed you'd see it someday. Even though it seemed hopeless.”

Her heart ached for him, so much that she had to let go of her own emotions enough to smile up at him. “I should have known you wouldn't forget him.
Couldn't
forget him.”

“Not ever,” he agreed, cupping her chin in his hand. “There's something I need to say.”

“Later,” she whispered. “For now, this is enough.”

TJ shook his head, then led her to the dining table and motioned for her to sit. She could barely resist returning to the photo display, but could see he needed to do this so she gave him an encouraging smile.

If he offered her the sentient, she'd go wild. If he proposed marriage—well, she'd find a way to let him down easy.

Still, she was surprised when he lowered himself onto one knee in front of her and took her hand.

“TJ…” she murmured uneasily.

“Just listen.” He cleared his throat, then gazed at her with his gorgeous royal-blue eyes. “I want to apologize. For having him declared dead. It was monstrous. I know that now. And I'm so very, very sorry.”

She stared at him, stunned. Then she dropped to her knees so she was eye level with him and asked with tearful reverence, “Really? Really, TJ?”

“I'm so sorry, Lex. At the time, I thought it was the practical thing to do. For Sea-Mont and for us. Closure for you and for me. But it was cruel and thoughtless and disloyal, and if I could go back in time, I'd stand up to my father and never, ever let him pull such a despicable stunt.”

She was sobbing again, the tears drenching her cheeks. And to her everlasting surprise, he was crying too, humbling her to her core.

“This means so much,” she insisted. “You'll n-never know. Oh God.” Her arms surrounded him, comforting him as though he were a toddler who had lost everything, everyone. “Don't cry, TJ. I'm here. And I'm so grateful.”