End Game

  “I agree, Captain.” Tiang pushed the hood of the suit back and accepted the plate. He only managed one bite of a sandwich before grabbing a cookie.

  A faint beep drifted down the corridor from NavCom.

  “I better check on that,” Alisa said, giving him a curt wave. It sounded like the comm panel rather than the proximity alarm, so she didn’t sprint back to the pilot’s seat, but she had sent out messages and set up sys-net alerts, hoping to discover where Tymoteusz had gone after kidnapping Thorian.

  “Tell Beck thank you, Captain,” Tiang called after her.

  She glanced back, intending to tell him that he could share the message himself, but Tiang was already stepping back into his cabin—laboratory.

  “Odd man,” she muttered as she swung around the corner and into NavCom.

  She slid into her seat and pulled up the incoming message. Unfortunately, it wasn’t from any of the sources she had contacted. Even more unfortunately, it was from Cleon Moon. There wasn’t anyone in any of those domes that she wanted to talk to, and it made her uncomfortable that a message would show up when the Nomad happened to be on the way back to the area. Maybe that White Dragon simpleton they had left in charge of his family’s wrecked dome had realized he hadn’t gotten a good deal.

  She started to tap on the message to open it, but saw that it wasn’t addressed to her. It was for Leonidas.

  Alisa leaned back in her seat. She could only think of one person on Cleon who might want to get in touch with Leonidas, and it was quite possibly her least favorite person on the moon.

  She reached for the internal comm. “Leonidas? Can you come up to NavCom, please?”

  Yes, she could have routed the message straight to him, but Beck hadn’t been incorrect in identifying her nosy streak. She wanted to know what this was about.

  A moment later, Leonidas ducked into NavCom, wearing his gym clothes, as usual. He had a towel over his shoulder, and sweat gleamed on his forehead. Alisa suspected that if Abelardus had heard thumps coming from his cabin, it’d had to do with working out rather than anything more carnal, especially if it had been during the day.

  “I didn’t realize that programming those hover pads required physical effort,” she said, trying a smile. After talking to him earlier, she wasn’t sure he wanted to see her or would appreciate being called up here.

  He returned the smile and lifted a hand, as if he might stroke her hair, which he often did when he visited her here, but he lowered it and cleared his throat. “I wanted to run through the program myself to ensure it would be suitable.”

  “Thoughtful, thank you.” She turned toward the comm panel, telling herself that almost-touch didn’t sting. She had been the one who said they needed to give each other some space while she figured things out with Jelena. He was doing what she’d asked, nothing more. “You have a message from Cleon Moon. We’re close enough that I think you can get a live connection.”

  She waited for him to point out that she could have sent the message to him in his cabin.

  “Cleon Moon?” Leonidas eyed the comm panel warily.

  “It could be fan mail. Maybe some footage of you slaying genetically engineered dinosaurs got out, and there are now thousands of women swooning over your manliness.”

  “I disabled the cameras that tried to follow us,” he pointed out, not commenting on his manliness.

  “As I recall, you crushed one between your hands as if it were a candy wrapper.”

  “Which disabled it, yes.”

  He sighed and touched the message button. The Nomad’s old console did not have anything so fancy as holo technology, so the face of the sender appeared on the built-in monitor. Alisa had no trouble identifying the woman, even in two dimensions.

  “Solstice,” she groaned.

  “Greetings, Colonel Adler,” the tawny-haired woman said, smiling in her sultry way. Even though the video only showed her from the neck up, she had the look of someone lounging on an expensive couch while a robot served her Cloud Killers with fancy olives on a stick. “I’ve missed you,” she added.

  “So,” Alisa said, “it is fan mail.”

  She watched Leonidas out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he would find the mafia leader attractive now that he was of a state of mind—and body—to notice such things. She trusted that he would not act upon such an attraction, even if he did, but she had to apply some effort to tamp down feelings of worry. Unfounded feelings, she told herself.

  Leonidas only grunted in response to her comment.

  “As you’ll recall,” Solstice went on, the message pre-recorded, “you owe me a favor.” She waved a hand, perhaps to indicate the dome or the moon. “Things have grown rather chaotic of late, and with my husband across the system on business, I’m in need of assistance.”

  Alisa could imagine just what kind of assistance she needed, but she kept the thought to herself.

  “Nothing too onerous, I assure you,” Solstice said. “And I may even have some information for you. I’ve recently acquired some media stations on other planets, and the news has been interesting of late. You and your ancient little freighter are even in it, did you know?”

  “Maybe I should be watching more than cartoons up here,” Alisa muttered. Had the Alliance let out news of the staff and the rogue Starseers?

  “Do comm me when you get a moment, Colonel,” Solstice said. “Is there any chance you’re heading this way? Soon?” Her face changed from sultry to imploring. “I truly need your help.”

  Alisa frowned. That plea would likely work better on Leonidas than a sexual one, even now that things had changed for him. He was noble to the core, and she doubted he could resist a woman—or even a man—asking for help.

  “We are going to one of Aldrin’s moons, aren’t we?” Leonidas asked, meeting her eyes after Solstice disappeared from the monitor.

  “Yes, but not that one.”

  His eyebrows arched. “I could contact Solstice and ask if there are regen tanks in any of the medical facilities within her dome.”

  “Beck has about a million crates to drop off on Sherran Moon,” Alisa said, glad to have an excuse to keep them away from Cleon.

  Leonidas tilted his head. “I imagine CargoExpress has facilities on Cleon Moon. A mafia presence hasn’t been known to keep them out of lucrative metro areas in the past.”

  “It would cost Beck a fortune to send all those boxes via a carrier. And we are a carrier. It’s silly to hand our freight off to someone else.”

  Leonidas sighed. “What if I pay for it? I do owe the woman a favor, whether I want to be in her debt or not.” He waved at the now-blank monitor.

  “Leonidas,” Alisa groaned, dropping her forehead into her hand. “It could be a trap.”

  Or, more likely, Solstice wanted another try at getting Leonidas into her bed. Still, the trap angle seemed like a reasonable argument.

  “She lent us her ship and assisted us in getting Beck out of the White Dragon dome.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, but she only did that because of you. Because she wanted you to owe her a favor. Just like this.” Alisa lowered her hand and gazed up at him, willing him to understand that nothing good would come of this. “She runs a mafia organization. We can’t trust her.”

  “I agree, but if I can repay the favor without impinging on my honor or endangering anyone here, I would prefer to do so and not have to worry about it again going forward.”

  “Can’t you repay favors after we find Thorian?”

  His face darkened. “We don’t know where Tymoteusz took him, and all those Starseers in the cargo hold have been unable to figure that out. I’ve asked. Several times.”

  She hadn’t realized he had done that.

  “They say the staff is either too far out of range or that Tymoteusz has found a way to hide it somehow,” Leonidas said. “Solstice has connections. She may be able to find information that we can’t. It’s not as if I can ask the remnants of the empire for intel. They’re furth
er behind on all this than we are.” From the frustrated way he spoke the words, Alisa wondered if he had already tried to ask the empire. “And the Alliance surely won’t give me information. I assume they won’t give you information either.”

  “I’m hoping to hear back from Tomich, but I’m not holding my breath.” Of the various comm messages Alisa had sent after recovering from her injuries, only her sister-in-law Sylvia had responded. She wanted to know when they would return to Perun so she could see Jelena again. Alisa wished she had the answer for that.

  “I don’t like the idea of working with the mafia,” Leonidas said, “and I also do not trust her, but as I said, she may be a good resource for this.”

  Alisa glowered at the stars on the view screen. She wasn’t sure he was right, but she also wasn’t sure he was wrong.

  She tapped the comm for sickbay. “Alejandro, are you there?”

  “Where else would I be?” came his prompt response.

  “I thought Tiang might have talked you into helping out in his mad scientist laboratory.”

  “I have a patient to monitor.”

  Ostberg. Alisa closed her eyes. She owed him something, something more than paying for a slot in a regen tank. The kid had helped them numerous times, and the chickens loved him. From what she’d heard, he had parents out there who loved him too. Parents who had sent him to be tutored by Starseers, not to traipse around the system in a freighter putting his life in danger.

  “Can you look up the facilities on Cleon Moon and see if anything there would be suitable for his needs?” Alisa asked.

  “Cleon Moon?” Alejandro asked distastefully. “I thought we were going to Sherran.”

  “We can go there first, if that’s the best place, but Leonidas thinks that Solstice may be able to get us information on Thorian’s whereabouts.”

  “Does he think that, or does his penis?” Alejandro growled.

  Leonidas’s eyebrows flew up. Alisa was surprised by the comment, too, if only because she didn’t remember Alejandro being around when they had met with Solstice—and when she had draped herself all over Leonidas’s armor.

  “Unless Tiang’s surgery was more cutting edge than I realized,” Alisa said, “I don’t think his penis is capable of thought.”

  “Tell me about it,” Alejandro muttered. A couple of thunks sounded, followed by a huff and a sigh. “There are facilities we can use on Cleon Moon,” he said. “But if there are any delays to my patient being healed or to us finding Thorian, I will object strenuously. Probably with drug-filled injectors.”

  “It has been nearly two days since you stabbed me with one of those.”

  “To my lament, I assure you.”

  Alisa closed the channel and waved to the comm panel. “Tell her we’re coming, if you wish.”

  She rose, intending to give him privacy for the conversation, as much as her nosy brain did not want her to.

  “Alisa?” he said softly, a puzzled furrow to his brow.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for defending me on that matter.” He glanced toward his lower half. “I don’t believe there is any sexual interest motivating me, but I admit that isn’t something I’ve had to watch out for in some time.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” She was relieved to hear it, even though she hadn’t truly thought he was interested in Solstice. She just hated the way that woman oozed up to him with her aggressive flirting. “I’ll let Beck know that he better pad those boxes, since a less reliable freight hauler is going to deliver them for him. But maybe he can pay for extra special handling. Since you’re footing the bill.” She winked at him and turned toward the hatchway.

  Leonidas caught her before she took more than a step, slipping his arm around her from behind.

  “I miss you,” he said softly, and kissed the side of her neck.

  “I miss you too.” She thought about flinging the hatch shut, wriggling around in his grip, and kissing him passionately, but the sound of Starseer children laughing drifted up from the cargo hold, reminding her that they were not alone on the ship—even when they were.

  Leonidas dropped his arm and stepped back.

  “Cleon Moon, here we come,” Alisa said, heading toward the mess hall. She lowered her voice to mutter, “Hope this isn’t a mistake.”

  Chapter 2

  Alisa stood on the walkway overlooking the cargo hold, her forearms draped on the railing. Lady Westfall, the headmistress of the Starseer school, what remained of it, was standing in the middle of a circle of cross-legged young students, Jelena included. They had to be communicating telepathically, since none of them had said anything out loud since Alisa arrived ten minutes ago. Several tools that looked like they might have been borrowed from engineering had been floated up into the air, some with ease and some with wobbles followed by clanks back to the deck.

  “I longed for this kind of experience when I was a girl,” Yumi said, walking up the steps to join Alisa. She had just fed the chickens—the flock had grown to thirty or forty, and their improvised coop now took up a larger corner of the cargo hold.

  “I just wanted a dog,” Alisa said, and glanced at the time display on a wall panel. The Nomad was less than six hours from Cleon Moon, and she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. She’d had dreams rooted in jealousy rather than logic, and she’d woken with the distinct impression that nothing good would come of seeing Solstice again.

  “I wanted a dog too,” Yumi said. “And to be able to communicate with it telepathically, so I could send it chasing after any bullies that bothered me.”

  “Sounds like you were a needy kid.”

  “I won’t deny that.”

  “Are you enjoying getting a chance to spend time with your sister?” Alisa asked.

  “Very much so. At first, I thought we had little in common, but she also finds science of interest. I’ve been showing her some of my breathing exercises. I’m trying to keep her busy so she doesn’t follow Abelardus around the ship and gaze adoringly at him.”

  “You wouldn’t approve of them as a match?” Alisa would be tickled to have Abelardus firmly interested in someone else.

  “I’m not sure he’s aware of her interest. She’s not very good at flirting. Even though she finds him attractive, he often irks her when they actually talk, and she ends up insulting him.”

  “I can assure you that won’t deter him if he realizes she wants to share a bunk with him. She should just say something blunt. She seems reasonably good at blunt.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Mica walked out of engineering wearing a scowl. Yumi waved to her, and she waved back curtly as she stalked over to the group of young Starseers. She leaned past a boy’s shoulder and snatched a torque wrench out of the air.

  “I wasn’t done with that,” she growled, and stalked back to engineering.

  Jelena’s head turned to follow her. As soon as Mica disappeared through the hatchway, three different tools floated out and across the cargo hold. They settled down in the middle of the circle.

  “Where’d my spanner wrench go?” came Mica’s growl from engineering.

  Jelena smirked.

  “Jelena,” Westfall said, frowning at her.

  “What?” Jelena asked innocently.

  “I believe your daughter may be a troublemaker,” Yumi whispered.

  “Can you see the shock on my face?” Alisa made a circle with her finger pointing at herself.

  Yumi peered at her. “No, I mostly see tension. You’re reunited with your daughter now. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

  “Of course, it does.”

  Yumi’s eyebrows drifted upward.

  “Can’t I be tensely happy?” Alisa scowled as Durant walked out from under the walkway, where the Starseers had their blankets and meager belongings spread, and stood behind the students with his arms folded over his chest. He had better not be teaching them his loathsome, kidnapping ways.

  “Can I interest you in one of my compounds?” Yumi asked.
>
  “No.”

  “I still have some of the Bliss that I made the last time we were on Cleon Moon collecting samples. Perhaps you and Leonidas would like to—”

  “No,” Alisa said, looking toward Jelena, hoping she wasn’t paying attention to her mother right now. She carefully kept Leonidas out of her thoughts. “I appreciate you trying to help, Yumi, but right now, we can’t… can’t.”

  Yumi looked to the children, then back to Alisa. “Ah. Well, if at some point in the future, you change your mind, let me know. If you don’t wish to experiment with chemical substances, I could also guide you in a relaxing meditation.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Alisa wondered what Leonidas would think if she took his hand and walked him to Yumi’s cabin for a group meditation session.

  “No,” spoke a male voice under the walkway. “I have none of my gear—or my files, thanks to you. We’re not researching anything right now. Go help the captain with something.”

  Bravo Six came into view and walked up the stairs, his android features as bland as ever. He still wore the eye patch that Mica had supplied him with to hide the missing eye.

  “Greetings, Lady Captain,” he said, stopping next to Alisa. “Do you have any tasks that I might work on?”

  “Your old owner isn’t pleased with you?” Alisa had expected Bravo Six to go back to working for the Starseer research scientist who had employed him on Sepiron Station. The man was one of the refugees now camped below.

  “Not at this moment. I failed to copy all of our research files from the database before the station was destroyed.”

  “Were you supposed to do that?”

  “My last order came from the station commander. I was to assist Bravo Seven in defending the station from intruders.” Bravo Seven—had that been the one Leonidas tore to bits? “I believed that order took precedence, and since I had not been ordered to collect the data, I did not think to do so. This was a failing. I did not know the station would be blown up, but I should have thought to make copies of our research files regardless.”

  “We all make mistakes.” Alisa clapped him on the arm, though she doubted androids were capable of being reassured. “If you need a project, you could go over the news feeds I’ve been collecting. We’re trying to figure out where Tymoteusz and the other chasadski went. Any sightings or snippets of data on their whereabouts would be helpful.”