Page 10 of Perilous Hunt


  Alisa and Leonidas split up to walk around, but there wasn’t much to see except for the shuttles. A control panel on the wall near the door allowed one to depressurize the bay and open the exterior doors.

  “Lots of scientific equipment in this one,” Leonidas said, leaning out of Shuttle 1 and heading for 2.

  “Maybe it’s what Bravo Six takes out to the asteroids.” She wondered if the android was programmed for piloting. If so, that would be another reason to take him along. She could use another pilot that she could train to fly the Nomad. Of course, just because he had been left behind on the station did not mean he could be claimed by anyone who wandered through. His science-loving Starseer would presumably want him back.

  “Shuttle Two looks to be a passenger shuttle, nothing more,” Leonidas called from within. “There are crates of shelf-stable foods in here. Water. Looks like someone packed in a hurry too.”

  Alisa walked over and peered through the hatch. “Maybe they meant to take two shuttles instead of one, but ran out of time.”

  She grimaced at the idea of the children crammed in with two shuttles’ worth of Starseers and only enough food along for half of the passengers. Her hand strayed to the pocket where she kept Jelena’s bracelet, but her fingers clunked against her armored thigh.

  “Bravo Six said the Cleon Moon ship was used as a distraction, right?” Leonidas asked. “Something for the imperials to shoot at while the Starseers slipped away.”

  “Yes,” Alisa said. “You’re right—they must have been rushed to have thrown away a perfectly good space craft.”

  “It’s discomfiting that the imperials wanted to obliterate it instead of capturing it. Did they think the prince was aboard? You wouldn’t think they would have wanted to risk blowing up the staff. Or Prince Thorian.” He stepped out of the shuttle, frowning thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps they do want to get rid of Thorian. If Bondarenko could show all of Perun his body, it might get the holdout factions to support him, knowing there’s no hope of Markus’s heir reuniting the empire one day.”

  Alisa grimaced. That was even more despicable than her idea that someone might want to proclaim himself the boy’s regent.

  Leonidas gazed at the bulkhead. “I think you’re right that he needs a mother and father, but in addition to being the only ones who can train him, the Starseers may be the only ones who can keep him alive over the next few years.”

  “You could,” Alisa said. “The emperor should have ordered you to stay with him. Of course, I would regret not having met you.” She would have regretted it more if she had encountered him in battle one day as an enemy. That was a chilling thought.

  “The last time I spoke to Markus, I wasn’t that interested in leaving my men and being a child’s chaperone,” Leonidas said. “We were fighting a losing battle. I didn’t want to flee while my men stayed and died defending the emperor. But… once I got to know Thorian, I felt differently.” His voice lowered. “Besides, soon after we escaped, there was nothing left to go back to. The emperor was gone, as were the men I’d been defending his base with.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “When we reached Dustor, I offered to stay with Thorian, to be his bodyguard. But the Starseers had no interest in a cyborg’s help. And Thorian… he seemed to believe he was going to his proper fate. I’d like to think he would have preferred to have me along, but perhaps not.” He lifted an armored shoulder.

  “I think you’d find life boring as a bodyguard,” Alisa said. “But you’d make a good father. Or surrogate father.” She certainly hoped that Jelena would take to him and that the Starseers hadn’t had long enough to instill their prejudices in her.

  “I don’t know about that.” His gaze dropped to the deck. “I wasn’t very good with my brothers. They were ten years younger than me, and when I was a teen, I never wanted to be stuck babysitting them. I wanted to be out playing sports and having adventures with my friends. It wasn’t until Mom got sick that… I had to take care of them more then, but a part of me resented it. I was selfish, self-centered.”

  “It’s a flaw a lot of us have at that age. And at later ages too.”

  “I think they sensed it on some level,” Leonidas went on, not acknowledging her attempt to assuage his guilt. “Even if I didn’t say as much out loud. When we learned that Mom had a terminal disease, that brought us closer together, but when I chose the army over trying to figure out a way to raise them… Well, I’ve told you the why.”

  “But you never told them.”

  “No. I believed I was being noble, but deep down, I think I found the military more appealing than the idea of raising children. It was easier to send money back home than to be there, helping them with homework and making sure they were growing up well. I’ve had a lot of years to regret that. I’ve tried to mend the fences with them a few times, but it’s too late now. A part of the reason I’d like to be a father is I’d like another chance to do things right. To not make the same mistakes again.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Alisa gripped his arm. “Leonidas, you can’t blame yourself for choices you made when you were eighteen. For most of us, that’s a real stupid age.”

  He grunted. “Perhaps.” He looked at her. “Even though I want another chance, a part of me is scared I’ll screw up again. This surgery… it represents more than simple biological functions.”

  “I expected it would.” She lifted a hand and pressed her palm to his cheek. “You may doubt yourself, but I have no doubts about you. If you choose to accept the mission, you’ll make a fine father. Jelena can guide you.” She grinned. “She’s excellent at speaking her mind and offering opinions.”

  “Are you trying to daunt me?”

  “Just making an offer. After spending a few months with an eight-year-old running around the ship, you may have an easier time making the fatherhood decision. One way or another.” She wistfully imagined him staying with her long-term and becoming a surrogate father to Jelena, but she didn’t want to push that idea on him before the two had even met.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Leonidas said.

  “Of course I am. I’m wise.” She lowered her hand and waved toward the door. “Shall we continue our search?”

  He gazed at the door but did not move. She almost asked him if he had heard the question, but he heard everything.

  “I’ll do it,” he said.

  “The search? Or are we talking about…”

  He met her eyes. “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 8

  Alisa walked into the operating room on Sepiron Station, expecting to find Leonidas lying on the table, naked with his head shaved and tubes coming out of every orifice. Instead, he sat on the table in his underwear and T-shirt, his arm hooked over a bent knee as he pensively eyed images of his brain on a holodisplay hanging over an open stretch of floor. If his head was going to be shaved, it hadn’t happened yet, though a small gray device had been attached to his temple. Alejandro was poking at a fancy, oversized remote control while Tiang hummed softly, bent over a counter, alternating between looking at a computer display and manipulating controls on some kind of scope.

  Leonidas’s expression shifted from pensive to relieved as Alisa walked to the table and clasped his hand. She had to step past his armor case, with his boots and folded trousers resting on it, to reach him. His blazer rifle leaned against the wall next to the rest of his gear.

  “Are you planning to hop up from this and do battle?” she asked.

  “If necessary,” he said, glancing at Alejandro. “They found nanobots that could work, and they’re going to try to do this without opening my skull. They said inflammation should be minimal, and that I’ll recover much more quickly than if they were removing a tumor or something of that ilk.”

  “If they work,” Alejandro said.

  “I believe they will,” Tiang said, turning toward them. “Using magnetic nanoparticles to temporarily open and slip through the blood-brain barrier isn’t cutting edge by any means, and is frequently used for th
e diagnoses of diseases and also the delivery of molecules directly to the brain. In some cases, repairs can be made with them, but we’ll actually be injecting nerve growth factor and rebuilding pathways. It will be challenging, and I’ll be controlling the nanoparticles by hand—” he waved at the remote control, “—to ensure precision is applied and also to avoid the triggers for the failsafes.”

  “I hope you have a steady hand, Admiral,” Alisa said, imagining piloting through a bomb-laden asteroid field.

  “I have very steady hands. But I wouldn’t mind some of your chef’s dragon wings to ensure that my stamina stays up throughout the procedure.”

  “Uh, he’s been guarding my engineer while she works, but I can see if there’s anything prepared back on the ship.”

  “Stay,” Leonidas said softly, laying his other hand atop hers. “They’re starting soon.”

  He appeared as stoic as always, even casual in that pose, but Alisa had come to know him well enough that she could read the concern in his eyes. Concern and something more, something she hadn’t seen before. Fear.

  He could face impossible forces in battle and take it in stride, but this? He couldn’t control this. His fate wouldn’t be his own. He was at the mercy of a man he didn’t know if he could trust.

  Alisa nodded and touched the stun gun holstered at her hip, reminding him that she would be watching over him while they were operating. She had removed her armor, unable to bear not scratching her itches any longer, but she was confident she could handle Tiang without it if need be. And even though she didn’t like Alejandro, she doubted he would do anything to harm Leonidas, or that he would step aside and allow Leonidas to be harmed. Alejandro owed him too many favors.

  “They already did the first part,” he murmured, glancing down at his underwear. “It didn’t take long for them to repair the artery. I will have some swelling, they said. And a scar unless I decide to have someone reconstruct the skin.” He pursed his lips, his contemplative expression, as he regarded his crotch making Alisa smile. “They did that after our other surgeries, since we would have looked like Frankenstein creations if they hadn’t, but I’m not sure if I want anyone poking around down there again.”

  “No one at all?” She bumped her shoulder against his.

  “Not with a laser scalpel.”

  “You’re lucky I’m not as into toys as Mica is.”

  His expression went from contemplative to horrified, and she hugged him.

  “We should start soon,” Tiang said. “The brain part of the procedure is considerably more complicated.”

  Reluctantly, Alisa released Leonidas and stepped back. She thumbed her comm unit. “Abelardus?” Mica, Yumi, and Beck were still on the station, Mica doing her repairs and Yumi researching the asteroid field, so she had limited people on the Nomad to call upon.

  “Yes?” Abelardus replied.

  “Can you send Ostberg over with some munchies for Admiral Tiang? Maybe some coffee?” She pointedly did not say why Tiang needed to be so fueled, but from the way Abelardus sighed, he probably knew. Fortunately, he did not make comments about penises.

  “I’m sure Ostberg will eat the munchies along the way if I send him,” he said.

  “Whoever you can find who’s willing to run errands. The sooner we get this done—”

  “The sooner we can get back to looking for the staff? You did promise to help me retrieve it.”

  “After we get the children, yes. And after you come up with a plan that could actually work against someone with greater powers than you and all your Starseer buddies combined.”

  “Your specialty is plans.”

  “More like schemes that get everyone in trouble,” Alisa muttered. “Would you also ask Stanislav to get in touch with me if he senses anyone coming? Staffs, people, ships… Even if the imperial ships have come and gone, I can’t help but feel vulnerable out here.”

  “I don’t feel the staff,” Abelardus said.

  “Yes, but Stanislav has more range than you do, doesn’t he? I’d like to hear from him.”

  Abelardus grumbled under his breath.

  “And coffee and munchies, please. Thank you.” Alisa closed the comm before he could comment or inarticulately grumble more.

  “That did not sound promising for snacks,” Tiang said, shaking his head woefully as he bent over the scope again.

  “He’s not what I expected from an admiral,” Alisa told Leonidas.

  Leonidas smiled slightly, but the concerned look hadn’t left his eyes, and his gaze drifted to the brain holo again.

  “Fancy, isn’t it?” Alisa asked, hoping to distract him from dark thoughts. “Maybe we could have just brought Durant here.”

  “Had I known this place existed, I might have considered it,” Alejandro said.

  Alisa stroked Leonidas’s hair. “I’m glad you won’t be bald and scarred. You’re fearsome enough without looking like a zombie.”

  “I don’t feel fearsome right now.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her as close as the table would allow.

  She leaned against him, breathed in his warm scent, and enjoyed the feel of his body beneath her hands as she tried not to think about failsafes and dangers and whether it was foolish to be doing this here and now — or ever.

  “We’re ready to get started,” Tiang said.

  She kissed the top of Leonidas’s head. “I’ll be right here.”

  “Good,” Leonidas said.

  Alejandro ordered him to lie on his back on the table. Leonidas kept hold of Alisa’s hand, and she shifted so the men could prepare him without bumping into her. He was getting some tubes, after all, and a sedative. As the latter was administered, Leonidas gazed up at her, meeting her eyes. Even though he had chosen this freely, she couldn’t help but wonder how much she had influenced him. Would he truly have gone through with it, if not for her? If something went wrong, would it be her fault? Was it foolish to do it here, in the middle of an asteroid belt, instead of in some hospital full of doctors and experts that could be brought in to save his life if necessary? Yes, was most assuredly the answer to that question, but that option wasn’t open to them. Not now. Maybe they could have waited, found a way to get the Alliance to accept him and allow him safe passage on their planets.

  She forced herself to smile down at Leonidas, trying not to let her fears show. He needed strength now. Certainty, not doubts.

  As the sedative kicked in, his eyelids grew heavier, finally closing. His hand loosened as unconsciousness took him. Alejandro came over to check on him, accidentally bumping her with an elbow. He shot her a dirty look.

  Knowing she was in the way, Alisa laid Leonidas’s hand on the table and stepped back. She would gladly have held it through the whole procedure, but she did not want to cause difficulties.

  Instead, she moved to the doorway where she could keep an eye on the doctors and their progress. Her comm beeped, and she thought about stepping into the other room, but thought Leonidas, even if he was unconscious, might be comforted on some level by hearing her voice, so long as it wasn’t agitated. Hoping she wouldn’t have a reason for agitation, she answered.

  “What is it, Mica? Progress?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  That didn’t sound as promising as Alisa would have liked.

  “I’ve recovered the video footage. We’re able to see the way the shuttle went when it departed, but that’s about it. There isn’t any audio, so we weren’t able to hear the people discussing their plans on the internal feeds. Because the shuttle would have had to weave around asteroids, tracing its trajectory won’t pinpoint where they went.”

  “But you can at least tell the direction they headed, right?”

  “Yes, but the three imperial ships were there and firing at the station, so it’s possible they picked the best route for escape with the intention of changing their course later.”

  Alisa leaned against the doorjamb. “I understand, but let’s ask Yumi to narrow her search
to the part of the field that’s in the direction they traveled. We’ll check the likely prospects there first.”

  “She’s here and says she’s already doing that.”

  “Good. Mica? Did any of the videos show the children?”

  “There’s some footage of everyone hurrying into a shuttle, yes.”

  “Can you send it to me? I want to see… I just want to see.” Alisa needed to see Jelena. It had been more than a year and a half since they had been together in person, and nearly a year now since they had even chatted over the sys-net. So long. Far too long.

  “Will do,” Mica said. “You have anything else here you need me to fix? I’m thinking of leaving an invoice for my services rendered. Do you think the Starseers will pay it?”

  “I couldn’t guess.”

  “It probably depends on whether they return or abandon the facility,” someone said from behind Alisa.

  Stanislav walked into sickbay carrying a tin of cookies and an impromptu carrier full of coffee mugs. He wasn’t using a helmet for the purpose, perhaps because he didn’t have one.

  “Send me the video, please, Mica,” Alisa said, and closed the comm as she faced Stanislav. “I thought Ostberg was going to be sent on this errand.”

  “Abelardus said you wanted the cookies to arrive uneaten.”

  “True.”

  “We’re ready to inject the nanobots,” Alejandro said.

  “One moment.” Tiang came to the doorway, removed his gloves, grabbed a coffee mug and a handful of cookies, and stepped outside of the operating room to munch.

  Alejandro propped a fist on his hip and frowned. “Didn’t you already sterilize your hands? Now you’re eating?”

  “I sterilized them to work on the nanobots.” Tiang chomped on a cookie. “I’ll sterilize them again before beginning the surgery. Don’t worry. Chocolate can’t cross the blood-brain barrier.”

  Stanislav’s eyebrows rose.