The Huntress (17 page)

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Authors: Michelle O'Leary

BOOK: The Huntress
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“I couldn’t do that!”

“I don’t see why not. He’s a big softy, you know. When I was thirteen he got me a holographic puppy because I couldn’t have the real thing on the ship. But you should have seen his face the first time he stepped in holo-poop.”

Mea grinned like an idiot while Regan’s high, sweet laughter rolled around her. She did manage to catch the child before she slid off the seat, but her laughter was contagious, and they kept each other in fits until the transport landed.

“Okay, okay, it wasn’t that funny. We’ve got to stop. I can’t laugh at a wake, especially this one.”

Regan was still snickering but managed to straighten beside her.

“Breathe. Breathe deep.” Mea wiped tears from the corners of her eyes and took her own advice. Then she almost burst into laughter again at the look on the pilot’s face. He probably thought they were drunk or high or both. They were certainly acting like it.

They stepped out of the transport, and Regan sobered at the sight of the academy, eyes wide with awe. “Wow.”

Mea looked at the place with a warm sense of nostalgia. She supposed when she’d first arrived here that she’d had the same reaction as Regan, but now it was a familiar and comforting sight. A huge, stone wall surrounded the maze of buildings inside and with the dazzling colors of the setting sun and the backdrop of dramatically lit clouds, the old place did look pretty magnificent. The courtyard was bound to be amazing in this light. She couldn’t wait to see Regan’s face for that one. “Come on, squirt.”

She took the girl’s hand and tugged her toward the archway into the courtyard. The huge wooden doors stood open, but she slowed with a frown to see several cadets standing at attention in the doorway. Next to them was a tall weapons scanner. This was something new.

“Welcome to the J.P. Masterson Hunter’s Academy, ma’am. Please place your right thumb on the ID scanner.”

The cadet held out a small scanner with great formality. With a quirk of her lips, Mea did as he asked. She must be getting old if she wasn’t recognized on sight anymore by the youngsters. While he was inputting her print, another cadet with flaming red hair stepped forward and gestured toward the large scanner. “Please step through. Weapons check.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, a flare of annoyance stiffening her face. “Do I look like I’m wearing any weapons?”

“No, ma’am. It’s just routine—”

She stepped close enough to feel his breath on her face and watched his eyes widen with understandable alarm. Eyeing him narrowly, she said in a low, threatening voice, “Do you want to frisk me—boy?”

His young face turned seven shades of red to match his hair, but she had to give him credit for standing his ground. “E-everyone must go through the scanner, ma’am.”

Just then the other cadet interrupted, hissing alarm into the redhead’s ear, “Are you nuts? That’s the Huntress!”

The redhead stuttered so badly the other cadet had to step forward and take over. “Please go on in, Hunter Brin. We apologize for the delay.”

Mea could hardly keep from laughing. It seemed her reputation was still very much alive. Smiling sweetly at them, she patted the redhead’s purple cheek with a gentle hand. “Keep up the good work, Cadets.”

Biting the inside of her bottom lip, she tugged Regan toward the archway. The girl was snickering softly and Mea refused to look down at her. This was no time for another giggle fit.

“How come you didn’t want to get checked for weapons?”

“Warren wouldn’t let me leave without wearing a transceiver, and I didn’t want them to know about it. It’s rude to wear one at a wake.”

When she didn’t get a response, Mea looked down to see Regan staring open-mouthed at the courtyard, eyes wide with amazement.

Mea grinned. “Pretty cool, huh?”

The courtyard was cobble-stoned and framed on three sides by two story buildings made of stone with old style tile roofing. There were balconies on all three buildings held up by huge pillars. Adavanta vine coiled up these pillars and wound with natural enthusiasm over the balcony railings and up to the roof, where tendrils hung like a lacy curtain over the edges. Adavanta was famous for its abundant flowers and delicate perfume, and the vines here were no exception. Flowers in a variety of colors bloomed so
eagerly that the green of the leaves was barely visible. When a breeze blew, a rainbow of petals swirled down over the crowd below.

The blazing sunset and the tiers and spires of the buildings behind only made the scene that much more fantastic. With fond eyes, Mea looked around and took a deep breath of the lightly scented air, letting it out on a sigh of satisfaction. This was as close to an actual home as she’d ever had, besides the
Starfire.

“It’s good to see the old place again,” she murmured, but was distracted from nostalgia when she saw Uncle Mike striding toward them. She moved to meet him, but Regan hung back, tucking herself behind Mea. She could feel the girl trembling, little fingers clutching her own.

“Big softy, remember?” Mea whispered just before he reached them.

He was grinning like a proud parent and Mea smiled back.

“How are my girls?” he boomed, and Mea detached herself from Regan to give him a fierce hug. He embraced her just as tightly.

“We’re great. I know you helped us with Child Safety, and I want to thank you.”

“Seeing you together is all the thanks I need,” he muttered gruffly in her ear.

She kissed his stubbled cheek before stepping back. He was looking over her shoulder at Regan with a curious expression, and Mea turned to see the girl shifting back and forth nervously.

“Well, that’s an odd outfit for a g—”

Mea elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“Oof. Oh, I get it. We’re incommunicado tonight.” He looked around them with exaggerated care, sidling closer to Regan. “What’s your code name, son?” he asked in a stage whisper.

Regan stared up at him as though he’d suddenly sprouted feathers, and Mea’s shoulders shook with suppressed mirth.

“Well, spit it out! Be quick—they’ve got ears everywhere.” He made a show of nonchalance, glancing around casually.

“Reggie?” she squeaked.

He clapped her on the back hard enough to make her stagger. “Reggie it is! Fine young boy you have here, Mea.”

“All right, Uncle Mike. Now that you’ve convinced her that you’ve gone completely insane, would you mind telling me what’s with the cadet guard out front?”

He scowled at her. “You didn’t scare them, did you?”

She looked away and cleared her throat. “Only a little. Why the weapons check?”

“The rogue issue has scared people and made some hunters paranoid. It’s just peace of mind for them. Just temporary.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You didn’t go through the scanner, did you?”

She refused to meet his gaze. “I sure could use a drink. How about you squirt? You thirsty?”

Regan came over to her side, eyes bright and a smile playing about her mouth. Mea put an arm around her, renewed joy dancing at the edges of her heart when she remembered that this was now her daughter.

“Put the fear of the Huntress into those cadets, didn’t you?”

He’s not going to let it go,
Mea thought in disgust. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Did you go through the scanner, Uncle Mike?”

He scowled at her again. “I’m the director.”

“Which means no. How about that drink, Chief?”

Muttering darkly under his breath, he led the way across the courtyard to a buffet table manned by cadets. On the way, Mea nodded in greeting to familiar faces, getting some friendly responses and some cool ones. Nothing new in that, though. There had always been those jealous of her success and suspicious that it was the result of favoritism from Director Conley. The truth was that Mike had always ridden her harder than the other hunters—he’d never liked her choice of careers.

She also noted members of the Coalition scattered around, and she frowned, offended that they would attend what was essentially a private ceremony.

“Why are there Planitaries here?” she asked Mike while she poured punch for herself and Regan.

His lip curled in disgust as he caught sight of one of the Coalition members. “We’re rabid dogs. We could start showing signs of it at any time.” He caught her look and sighed. “They don’t trust us to gather without incident.”

She snorted. “I don’t trust us to gather without incident. You remember the last time?”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.”

A hunter’s psychological makeup made him or her solitary creatures by necessity—they were gone from home base for long periods of time. Getting them together in large groups inevitably led to tension, not all of it aggressive. Often these gatherings degenerated into a meat market, the sexes hunting each other for a change.

Tonight wouldn’t be any different. Mea’s dress hadn’t seemed that conservative when she’d purchased it, but compared to some of the outfits she could see, she looked like a clergy member. She vowed not to stay too long after the ceremony and dinner, knowing that eventually it would degrade into the kind of explicit displays not for children’s eyes. She’d had her fair share of hunts in this courtyard, but Regan was too young for that kind of fun.

“What happened last time?”

Mea looked down at Regan’s innocent face. As if she’d actually tell her. “There were three separate fights.”

Which was true, but not the whole truth. The most memorable fight had occurred because someone had tried to stop a couple from having sex in the middle of a crowd of dancers.
Free for all
just wasn’t enough of a description for that night.

“I have to get this thing started,” Mike muttered sourly and moved away from them toward a small stage set to one side of the courtyard. Once there, he called for attention in his booming voice and the crowd flowed toward him, assembling in loose rows in front of the stage.

Mea and Regan drifted with the crowd. Mea grimaced to see two Coalition members flanking Mike like sentries.

“Fellow hunters, we have come together tonight to honor the memory of one of our own. Hunter Nat Bragan has fallen in the field. Most of you know the details of that death by now, but in brief he attacked another hunter and deliberately injured and threatened to kill a child. By our definitions and laws, he went rogue. The other hunter was forced to remove the threat to the child and herself by ending his life.”

The crowd rustled, a low murmur rolling through them as many craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Mea and Regan. Mea ignored them, but she felt Regan push closer to her in reaction to the stares. Mea put an arm around her and gave her a reassuring squeeze but didn’t take her eyes off the stage.

“Those are the facts, but here they mean nothing. To pass judgment on Hunter Bragan now is futile. He’s gone, beyond accusations, beyond punishment. Any death of a hunter diminishes the Corp, and therefore diminishes us. Tonight we will remember his long service to the Corp, and give him the honor due any hunter.”

He then began cataloging Bragan’s accomplishments, and Mea felt a twinge of guilt. Bragan had been a productive hunter, if not the most inspired of their ranks. He might have continued his service and retired without incident if she hadn’t provoked him. On the other hand, he might have gone on a killing spree and racked up a huge body count if she hadn’t taken him down when she did. She comforted herself with the reminder that no hunter would have taken an innocent child hostage, hurt her so terribly, and threatened to kill her—it was against everything they fought for and believed in. Even if she hadn’t provoked him, there had been something in him that was rogue.

Looking down at Regan, she knew she’d do it all exactly the same, ten times over if necessary. Where Bragan was concerned, she’d had no other choice.

“For his great service to the Law and to the citizens of the Planetary Coalition, Hunter Nat Bragan deserves respect and admiration. Please join me in a moment of silence for our fellow hunter.”

Everyone bowed their heads, even Regan who had the least cause to give Bragan respect. Besides the occasional rustle of vine and chirp of a bird, the silence held for several long minutes. Twilight had fallen during Mike’s speech, and strategically placed lights cast a soft, warm glow over the courtyard.

“Your duty to the Corp,” Mike intoned and the crowd’s response was automatic, voices echoing against the buildings.

“Honor Law and Life.”

“Your duty to Law and Life.”

“Uphold and protect. Serve and preserve.”

Mike gave the echoes a moment to fade before concluding his speech. His expression was grim, and Mea knew he felt the loss of one of their own personally. As the director, he was responsible for every one of their lives.

“You are the pride of the Corp, hunters, and you are my pride. Thank you. Dinner has been prepared if you want to stay and share Bragan’s memory with one another. If not, than you are dismissed.”

Mike saluted them with a fist over his heart, and they returned the gesture. He then stepped off the stage, ending the formal part of the wake.

 

Chapter 15

 

Like a sigh, the crowd of hunters relaxed, spreading out and forming smaller groups. Mike headed in Mea’s direction, but the Coalition members stopped him. Mea didn’t hear what they said, but as she moved closer, she did catch Mike’s response.

“Politics have no place here. One of my hunters is dead. Show some respect,” he said in a clipped tone and turned away from them, face stony. “I need a drink,” he muttered as he brushed past her.

Mea blocked the members from following him, smiling grimly. “This is not the best time to pursue your own agenda with the director. Perhaps you should leave.”

The woman looked her up and down, expression cold. “What we have to say to the director is none of your business.”

Mea ground her teeth but managed some semblance of civility. “True. What is my business is your presence at a private hunter gathering. Did either of you—any of you Coalitioners—know Nat Bragan? No? Then your presence here is not only insensitive and disrespectful—it’s offensive. I’m asking you to leave.”

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