Aerie stepped back from the doorway. “Please, come in. I was just making breakfast. Or maybe lunch by now, looking at the time.”
“You don’t come down to the dining hall much.”
“This is easier.”
Emery wrinkled her nose. “Easier? How is cooking your own food easier?” She gestured toward the door. “Come on. We’ve got some work to do. We’ll get lunch on the way.”
“The way to what?”
“Since we have some time, and you’ve been here long enough, I thought I would run through emergency drill procedures with you. It won’t take long. And there’s better food down in the dining hall.”
Aerie flustered. “I don’t know if I want to eat with everyone else.”
“Why?” Emery narrowed her gaze at her.
“I just … ”
I just don’t want to make friends or enemies of you and your crew.
Aerie nodded toward Emery’s dress in an effort to stall. “I don’t have anything nice to wear.”
“Then wear a uniform. Not too many people dress up on Sundays. I did today, but I’m one of the few people who dress up. I like to, and this was actually my wedding dress. I sent it out to have it dyed a week ago, and I just got it back.”
Aerie fought off the impulse to ask Emery what her wedding was like; she’d never been to one before, but she knew there was never much to it. “It’s lovely.”
Aerie thought of her attempts at fixing her clothes; cleaning was easy compared to sewing up some of the tears and holes she’d gotten over the years. “I’ve never been good at stuff like that.”
“Do you want to learn? If you’re interested in working with the clothes, I can see about switching your job assignment.”
“No, that’s okay,” Aerie quickly assured her. “Olga and her assistants are warming up to me nicely.”
“Even Alice?” Emery laughed.
“A little.” A very little.
“You shouldn’t take it personally. She has a crush on Exton, and there was a rumor at your arrival that might have something to do with her resentment.”
“Rumor?”
Emery waved it away. “That you’d attacked him.”
“Well, I did, technically.”
“Aerie,” Emery said, “Exton listed you as a refugee so there wouldn’t be any worry among our shipmates. Alice would see an attack on Exton as sign of war.”
“She does seem to really like him,” she agreed. “She has been less aloof these last few days, anyway.” Aerie thought about how kind Alice had been when she’d showed her how to braid back her hair.
“Well, then don’t worry about it. You’ll likely win her over yet. But for now, get dressed and come with me.” Emery planted her hands on her hips. “You’re not afraid of getting to know more people, are you?”
“The URS let us have friends.” Aerie sniffed indignantly, grabbing a new set of clothes and hurrying into the bathroom to change.
“Yes, but I’m willing to bet you didn’t have many.”
“Hey!”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
Aerie finished getting ready as she thought about the safest answer to that question. She sighed to herself. It wasn’t easy to explain she’d been driven by near-desperation to get into the military, eliminating a lot of time she could have reserved for making friends.
The only close friend she had was Brock, and that was most likely because her father seemed to approve of him, and he was able to help her train.
She walked out of the bathroom to find Emery waiting patiently for her response. “My father didn’t encourage friendships. And neither did my training regimen,” she said, deciding that was the safest answer she could give.
“That’s the beauty of being here,” Emery insisted. “You have more time to make friends. And you can meet people while you work.”
“I’ve met a lot of nice people.” She glanced back over at her desk, where her papers still sat, taunting her with their brevity. Part of her wanted to remain in solitude; if she kept to herself, she wouldn’t run the risk of liking her captivity.
Even if she was attracted to her captor and thought about his kiss more than she should.
It was that stinging reminder that compelled her to go out more than anything. If Exton could ignore her, Aerie decided, it wasn’t going to be because she made it easy for him. “All right,” she agreed. “I’m ready to go.”
“Most of the time you won’t work the weekend,” Emery assured her, leading her out of the room. “We’ll let you know. Different shifts will take different weeks and work the extra day. Some volunteer, but in the next few days we’ll have plenty of work open for the harvest.” She flashed Aerie a grin as they walked down the hall. “So you better watch out for the order.”
“What is the harvest?” Aerie asked. “I’ve been wondering.”
After a moment of consideration, Emery nodded. “I suppose I can tell you. You might have figured it out some already, but we don’t just work on the ship up here.”
“I know you told me before that the Ecclesia, that religious group, has some students up here.” Aerie slowed as she saw a child, no more than three years old, run to a woman who was clearly his mother. “And there are families here.”
“Yes. Well, it’s part of what we do besides education and provide for families. We grow crops up here, in the ship’s classrooms and outer regions.”
“You do? Like a greenhouse from the Old Republic?”
“Exactly.” Emery nodded.
“That’s amazing!”
“That’s not the reaction we get from most refugees,” Emery admitted with a rueful smile. “There’s been a large decrease in animal and plant populations throughout much of Earth. Toward the end of the Old Republic, many people wanted to get rid of its institutions and start their own. A lot of them had forgotten that just because something is old and traditional, it does not mean it is useless or meaningless.”
“But it’s perfect.” Aerie clapped her hands in happiness. “The Perdition is out in space, so you always have a good amount of sunshine available. You can easily grow plants up here.”
“Not quite as easily as it seems,” Emery said. “But for the most part, yes, that’s about how it works.”
“I’d love to see it.” Aerie smiled. “My mother had a small garden where we lived. She wasn’t allowed to grow a lot, but I’ve been working with it for the past couple of years to keep her plants alive. New Hope didn’t have a lot of natural light, and the artificial light was unreliable. You probably get a lot more of a crop here than I did there.”
“Yes. Once a year, we work for several shifts to get all the food harvested and stored. Out of tradition, we feast for a day, and then we replant seeds afterward. It’s a big job, added into the regular routines here on the ship.”
“And that provides enough food for the whole ship, for the whole year?”
Emery shook her head. “We have other sources of food, but the harvest is a good portion of it. Every year, we get a bigger crop.”
“You said it’s coming up soon?”
“This week.”
Aerie bounced with pleasure, thinking of her mother and the simple joy she’d always had around her garden back home. “I’m excited for it.”
“You did mention you had an interest in horticulture,” Emery said. “I guess if you’d like to see our plantation section, we can go on the way back from the hangar.”
“That would be wonderful!” Aerie wiggled her butt in excitement.
“I’m glad you’re energetic. You’ll need it for the emergency drills,” Emery told her. “No one would call them fun.”
Aerie felt her mood deflate, but despite herself, she laughed. “I grew up in the URS,” she said. “I’m used to being disappointed.”
Emery giggled. “Careful. You’re starting to sound more and more like one of us.”
“I was just joking,” Aerie quickly apologized, horrified she’d so easily made light of
her disappointment with the State. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay, you know, if you want to join us,” Emery told her quietly. “We’ll protect you.”
“My unit has some terrifying connections,” Aerie murmured. “I wouldn’t want to harm—”
“Connections? I thought you said you were of little importance.”
The concerned look on Emery’s face made Aerie fluster. “The Rearden unit,” she forced herself to say, “includes some friends with General St. Cloud’s family. That’s all. But I’m definitely not important.”
Emery stopped. “You know St. Cloud?”
The condemnation in her voice was sharp; it cut straight into Aerie’s heart.
“Uh, not very well, of course,” Aerie insisted as she began to fidget uncontrollably. “I’m not sure how my unit would get him to act for them, anyway; it probably doesn’t matter. Like I said, I’m not important enough.”
After a long moment, Emery sighed. “If you say so,” she said. Her blue-green eyes softened. “I know it seems like we’re all just worried about ourselves and our business here on the ship. But Olga told me that she and several of the others have enjoyed your company as well. You would be missed.”
An old pain twisted inside her heart. “Oh, really?”
Emery nodded. “I can attest myself, it’s nice having you around. It would be nice to have you stay … if you decide you want to, of course.”
Guilt and fear festered together in Aerie’s stomach alongside joy. “I’ve liked it, too,” Aerie said, her voice soft and slow as the truth both freed and condemned her. “I have an older sister, and she’s nothing like you. I mean, I wish she was more like you, not that you’re not a good—”
“I know what you meant.” Emery’s kind smile disappeared. “Which makes me worried, now that I know you’ve met General St. Cloud.”
“Wouldn’t Osgood be worse?”
“You might think so, but actually he’s not.” Emery shook her head. “Osgood is just a politician. To maintain its grip on the State, St. Cloud is the force. Without Osgood, St. Cloud could be the next dictator. Without St. Cloud, Osgood would easily lose control of the URS.”
“So, St. Cloud is the one you guys want to take down?” Aerie asked, surprised her father was more critical to the State than she had estimated. She always knew he was important, as the Lieutenant Commander-in-Chief, but she never would have suspected he was higher on the enemy’s list than Osgood.
Emery, lost in her own thoughts, ignored her question. “If the Rearden unit contacts St. Cloud, we might be in trouble.”
“I won’t say anything.” Aerie promised, suddenly terrified. “If it helps, I don’t think they can do anything this far out. The URS doesn’t have much of a space program, since the Perdition has been taking out satellites.”
“We’re heading closer to Earth for the harvest,” Emery reminded her.
“I still doubt they would attack.” Aerie thought about her father’s career. “They generally don’t attack unless they know for sure they would win. And you do have the upper hand out here in space, since their space program was delayed several years ago.”
When Emery raised her brows, Aerie blushed. “I’m sure you knew that already,” she murmured.
“It’s good to have you confirm it.”
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Aerie’s nerves continued to jumble around inside of her. “That I know St. Cloud?”
“I’ve met the man myself,” Emery told her. “And so has my brother, of course. Exton hates him.” She sighed. “I’d hate to make it into more of something than it’s not.”
Fear, silent and crippling, raged through Aerie. She struggled to control it, but the pulsating power of adrenaline screamed through her blood. She wanted to confess she’d lied, that she was not who they thought, that she was the enemy, just as she’d asserted she was all along.
But she couldn’t. There was some part of her that wanted to stay, to really be the person they thought she was—to hide Aerie St. Cloud underneath a new name and a new life, until she disappeared forever.
Traitor! The voice reared by the State drummed its disappointment into her.
Emery nodded toward the elevator ahead. “Either way, I’m not going to do it now. But from the sound of it, it’s a good thing that we’re going to go over the emergency exits.”
Aerie just nodded, still fighting with herself as she wordlessly followed.
♦17♦
“Wow.” Aerie stared down the hangar, amazed. “That’s a lot of ships.”
“We do have quite a collection here,” Emery said, allowing her gaze to follow Aerie’s down along row after row of shuttles and cargo shippers. “There are others, more like specialty ships, in the rear cargo hold, but these are the ones we use most often for supply runs.”
Aerie couldn’t stop the rush of excitement. As much as she felt guilty and terrified, she was happy to be back in a familiar setting. The Perdition’s hangar, full of its variety of ships and bustling activity, reminded her of the Military Academy.
The hangar doors were closed. From her position on the second level staircase, she couldn’t make out the details of the far end, but from the forward port side she could see several rows of supplies and ships being unloaded, and the ships personnel running through checks and making repairs.
“I heard the rumors that Captain Chainsword had a collection of MENACE fighters,” Aerie recalled. “Is that true?”
Emery coughed back a laugh. “I’m sure Exton would be amused to hear that,” she replied. “You should ask him about that later. Right now, we’re here to focus on the emergency escape pods.”
Emery pointed to the emergency escape pods lining the Perdition’s haul at different points. “They are the ‘lifeboats’ of our pirate ship here.”
The pods were slim and narrow, placed perfectly inside the hollows in the ship’s sides. “I almost didn’t see them,” Aerie admitted with a small laugh. “A lot’s going on down here.”
“We’re approximately two days from Earth, heading toward the southern hemisphere.” Emery indicated a ship at the far end. “That’s the shuttle you cameon, right there.”
“The one with the chainsword on it?”
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“I imagine that’s Exton’s favorite,” Aerie said.
“I imagine it is, too.” Emery smiled. She glanced at Aerie. “But I think for different reasons than you do.”
Aerie said nothing as her face flushed over in embarrassment and, despite her better judgment, pleasure.
“Come on. I’ll show you how to use the pods.”
“How likely is it that you’ll ever need to?” Aerie asked as she followed Emery down the walkway. “I mean, I know that the URS is against you guys in principle, but I’ve never been sure of how they’re fighting you.”
“Their methods of fighting are quieter,” Emery admitted. “Most of the incidents would be classified as a military matter by the State. Civilians have to rely on different sources to learn the truth.”
“Is that part of the reason the Ecclesia and other religions were outlawed?”
“Outlawed,” Emery agreed, “but not obliterated.”
“Obviously.” Aerie gestured around the hangar. “You have a large amount of people here.”
“Not everyone here is a member of the Ecclesia,” Emery reminded her. “And this is a skeleton crew at best. If our students were not on board, we would be pressed for service.”
“Why are they here?” Aerie asked. “Doesn’t the Ecclesia have anywhere else to go?”
“This ship is the best place to study for certain subjects, for now. We have a network of cities and people that have circled through here in the last several of years; we have to keep changing things up when the URS starts cracking down on us.”
“I wonder why they would be against the Ecclesia,” Aerie admitted. “I mean, I get that the State would be upset at having a person’s loyalty divi
ded—”
“Loyalty is everything, Aerie.” Emery shook her head. “Loyalty is the first step toward love. Allegiance leads to obedience. To have someone’s full trust is a powerful gift. Think about how much you feel you owe to the State. What would happen if it asked you to do something you would never do otherwise? Lose your home? Leave your family? Move to a faraway place?”
Aerie turned away, looking back toward the people around her who were running around and continuing their orders. “I’m in somewhat of that situation now,” she said.
“But not by your choice or conviction.”
“It’s still the same ending.”
“The lesson you’ve learned is different than the one I am trying to convey to you.” Emery came up and paused beside her. “Could you willingly give your life for the State if they asked it of you?”
When Aerie started to respond, Emery shook her head. “I don’t want you to answer,” she said. “Not now. I know from my own experience that you’ve been trained to do just that.”
Frustrated, Aerie frowned. “Then why did you ask?”
“I’m trying to show you what real devotion looks like. Many people think it is happy or joyful. It can be, but more often than not devotion looks like sacrifice, discomfort, humiliation, and pain.”
“I’ve done that for the URS,” Aerie insisted. “Training was hard, you know. And learning was not always easy. I gave up many things trying to make them happy.”
And I still didn’t get what I wanted.
“So you know something of devotion and obedience. But what if they took advantage of your trust?”
Aerie huffed. “They haven’t,” she insisted. But she felt a twinge of regret as she recalled her father’s remarks following her PAR, and how even though she had given her trust over to the State—along with its leaders and teachers, and even His Excellency himself—they had never trusted her with the freedom to make her own decisions.
“Then you’re one of the fortunate few who have never experienced that feeling,” Emery remarked. “Trust me, it is awful.”
Aerie believed her but felt as though she was betraying her home to admit it. “Surely even the Ecclesia has used people for their gain before,” she said.