He remained silent. She continued to hold him, not sure he understood her. But then he shook his head, as if he was clearing something, and he looked directly at her, for that instant, at least, perfectly sane. “Do you know how many people I’ve killed? No matter how many I heal, I can never atone for those who died.” And then, as if that exhausted what humanity remained in him, he shifted his gaze away again and asked another question in the foreign tongue.
Lily eased the pressure on his arms, slowly, and as he seemed content to remain calm, she stood up, freeing him. Dressing, she kept a careful watch on him, but he merely put on his clothes and straightened them with an attention to detail that almost reminded her of Kyosti. He allowed her to lead him out of the small room, but once out in the larger room he let go of her and paced across to the high counter that was, besides a single table and chair, the only furniture in the room. He climbed up onto it and composed himself, cross-legged, to wait. But as she moved to the door, she felt that his entire awareness was centered on her—not just his sight, but every other sense as well.
The door wafted aside as Lily got to it. Dr. Farhad stood just across the threshold. Whatever she had felt on seeing Lily emerge intact from the privacy room with her patient was no longer apparent from her expression. She looked, as usual, cool.
“Will you come in?” Lily asked. “I think you can begin to talk to him now.”
Dr. Farhad stepped inside and the door shut behind her. “What will you do?” she asked.
“I have to go try to arrange for his release. And to discharge an obligation.”
“His release. It is rather early for that.” The doctor looked past Lily to the still, blue-haired figure seated on the counter.
“He’s not going, to recover here.”
“No,” Dr. Farhad agreed. “Prison is not a healthy place for je’jiri, half-blood or otherwise. Insist that Rehabilitation consult me before they make a decision.”
“I will.” Lily turned and walked back to stand in front of Kyosti. She reached out to lay a hand over one of his. His gaze did not waver from her face. “Kyosti. This is Dr. Farhad.”
He glanced at the doctor, blinked. “I remember you,” he said, but immediately he looked back at Lily.
“Kyosti. I have to leave for a short time. Dr. Farhad will stay and talk with you. But I will be back soon.”
“Of course you will.” He regarded her solemnly but with a depth of trust that unnerved her.
Despite her audience, Lily leaned forward and kissed him. A chaste kiss, but somehow it sealed her promise. Then she turned and left him with Dr. Farhad. She chose not to look back, but as she stepped through the door, she heard the doctor’s calm voice.
“I’m glad you remember me, Kyosti. It’s been many years, hasn’t it?”
The door slid to, cutting off his reply. Above, she found three assistants monitoring at the large bank. One agreed to lead her out and then, in that excess of goodwill that she had found to be a common trait shared by most of the people she had met in League space, to show her personally back through the confusing vastness of Concord’s interlinked building blocks and unbroken flow of murals to concourse Amity and Hope One’s berth.
Everyone on board—Pinto, Paisley, Jenny, Yehoshua and Deucalion—turned at her entrance. No one spoke. Their politeness seemed charged more with tension than courtesy, as if everyone expected the worst but did not want it confirmed. A brief pique of annoyance caused Lily to walk all the way forward in silence to strap herself in to the chair beside Pinto before she turned. They still waited, eyes following her least movement, her faintest change of expression. The feeling of being on stage made her uncomfortable, and she wondered—quite at odds with the situation—what hidden trait in Master Heredes had made him choose acting as a career, before, and even during, his saboteur days.
“I saw him,” she said. They let out their breaths in a collective sigh, but still no one spoke. “He’s definitely not well.” She hesitated, but looking at her audience she realized that of all people, these deserved to know the truth. “He can’t decide whether he wants to be human or je’jiri—not consciously, I mean. It’s like he’s struggling back and forth inside himself. He’s got no recollection at all of what happened at Forsaken except as the vaguest dream.”
“Nightmare,” murmured Yehoshua.
“I don’t even know if he would remember any of you. Or Reft space. Most of the time he spoke in the je’jiri language.”
“Oh, Lily,” Jenny began.
It sounded too much like pity to Lily’s ears. “I don’t think it’s hopeless,” she cut in sharply. “He remembered my name. And I’m satisfied that he’s in the hands of a competent doctor. Quite competent.”
“I should think so,” broke in Deucalion. “The Dr. Farhad, after all.”
“But what do we do now?” asked Yehoshua.
Lily looked at Pinto. “Get traffic control. We detach and return to the Hope.”
“Lily!” Deucalion stood up. “You promised me that if I arranged for you to see Hawk, then you would in good faith turn yourself in on the charges—”
“Deucalion. I will not wait on their convenience in Void knows what kind of a restraining area they provide. I’m not a citizen of League space. I’ve got no guarantees they’ll treat me fairly, not after I arrive here to find a bounty hunter stalking me. I expect to be treated with the respect given any refugee. And I do have responsibilities to my ship. Therefore, we return to the Hope. Once there, you can arrange whatever kind of hearing is appropriate for my circumstances with the department that issued these charges—in front of some kind of impartial panel as well, I hope—and I will come over to Concord for that hearing, with you, at the stated time. Not sooner.”
“We have clearance for detach,” announced Pinto, and then, perhaps accidentally, perhaps not, he undocked the shuttle just roughly enough that Deucalion lost his footing and barely caught the edge of his seat to save himself from falling. He sat down heavily and turned an accusing gaze on Lily. The rest of the shuttle’s occupants braced themselves for the lecture.
“Very well,” he replied in a constrained voice, and to everyone’s surprise he simply removed his slate from his belt and began to key into it.
Someone, possibly Jenny, stifled a chuckle.
Back on board the Forlorn Hope, Lily sent Trey to review what files they had on the League’s legal system. Then she announced an all-hands inspection of ship and crew. Deucalion interrupted her before she could start.
“Two days from today. Ten hundred hours, in Rehabilitation Main Concourse, Sanger Block, Hearing Room Laefina Zed. Does that satisfy you?”
Lily laughed. “You sound so disappointed, Deucalion. Did you want me hanging by my thumbs?”
“You know very well I don’t want—Oh, never mind.” With the barest sketch of an excuse, he left, looking irritable.
Jenny, party to this interchange, laughed in her turn. “He can’t complain that you reneged on your promise. But I think it irks him that you’re dictating the proceedings, not him.”
“Who knows? But it gives us time for this inspection, which we sorely need. This boat hasn’t had a thorough shakedown since before we left Reft space. Are you ready, Officer Seria?”
Jenny grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Bach?”
A glorious assent in full orchestration.
Yehoshua waited with a full shift and crew on the bridge. He acknowledged Lily but his gaze lingered longer on Jenny. When the mercenary smiled back at him, he seemed abruptly embarrassed and hastened to Lily’s side as she made the rounds of each console. The Mule gave the longest interview, evidently not having lost its—her?—initial enthusiasm for the unadulterated pleasure of being a full-fledged navigator. Finch gave the shortest. He did not seem sullen, merely withdrawn, and he ran comm through its paces so efficiently that it took scarcely any time at all, compared to the other stations. For some reason, Pinto watched him with a quizzical look on his face, but
he made no comment. Yehoshua went with them from the bridge.
They got through silver deck before Lily decided to call a halt for the day. Conveniently enough, the last place they visited was the galley and mess. Deucalion sat alone at one of the tables, a cup of café at his right hand, busy keying in to his slate.
“Do you mind if we sit here?” Lily asked, coming up to him.
“It’s your ship,” he said, then caught himself and managed a smile. “That wasn’t very gracious. Of course I don’t mind.”
“I’ll get drinks,” said Yehoshua.
Lily and Jenny settled in chairs across from Deucalion. Bach hovered at Lily’s back.
“Does the ’bot always shadow you like that?” Deucalion asked.
“Sometimes. If it’s necessary.”
Bach began to sing a muted aria.
Ich folge dir gleichfalls mit freudigen Schritten
und lasse dich nicht,
Mein Leben, mein Licht.
Befördre den Lauf und höre nicht auf,
Selbst an mir zu ziehen, zu schieben, zu bitten.
I follow you with eager steps
and will not forsake you,
my light, my life.
Show me the way, urge me on,
ask me to go with you always.
Lily went on over Bach’s singing. “You seem busy. What are you working on? My arrest warrant?”
“That’s hardly fair—” He stopped himself. She grinned. “Somehow, I suspect you and Adam got along just fine. No, I’m writing up a proposal for a three-ship ambassadorial expedition to Reft space to present first to the Intelligence Council and then to Parliament, for approval.”
“To Reft space?”
“You must admit, Lily, that from what information I’ve gleaned from talking to you and your crew and researched in your library, it is a union consummately to be wished or something like that. Isn’t that from Shakespeare? I never was any good at quoting.”
“What’s Shakespeare?” Yehoshua asked as he set down a tray of drinks. He hesitated at the chair beside Jenny, and then, evidently thinking it impolitic to leave Deucalion alone on the other side, circled the table to sit beside the other man.
Deucalion sighed. “Which only goes to prove my point. It’s a meeting that is long overdue. Is it really true that Ridanis are segregated there? Paisley made some comments, which I thought I simply misunderstood until I came across some references …” He trailed off. “It just seemed too—bizarre—to believe.”
“Yes,” Lily agreed. “I think it’s long overdue for Reft space to join up with the home worlds again. Although you’ll meet resistance from Jehane.”
“Jehane? Oh, yes, one of the leaders of this civil disturbance you’ve had. It still seems impossible to me that in this day and age humans could behave with such—” He broke off, seeing how Jenny’s and Yehoshua’s expressions changed.
“Well,” Lily put in apologetically. “You do have a tendency to lecture, Deucalion.”
The pause that followed this remark was stiff. Finally, Deucalion keyed off his slate and stood up. “If I may, Captain, I beg leave to return to my quarters.” But he did not, after all, wait for her permission before walking with deliberate ease out of the mess.
Jenny was polite enough to wait until the door had shut behind him before she laughed. “Oh, Lily, I’m sorry, but if I had to endure one more lecture about us primitive barbarians I think I’d vent myself. It’s a good thing he’s never seen my complete arsenal of weapons. Or has any inkling of the kind of training an Immortal gets. I know I ought to be more sympathetic, but I think he’s just never been used to being laughed at.”
Yehoshua, too, was smiling, but now he shook his head. “I’m not so sure. I think maybe he is used to being laughed at—or at least, had it happen a lot and never really got used to it. It’s the sore spots that hurt the most, after all. With your permission, Captain, maybe I’ll catch him up and ask him more about this proposal.”
“That’s a generous offer. I didn’t realize you liked him.”
“I don’t dislike him. But I wonder if he doesn’t have a hard time making friends.”
“I think it’s a good idea.”
“Here.” Yehoshua picked up the cup of café Deucalion had abandoned. “I’ll say he forgot it.” He picked up his own drink as well and left them.
Jenny watched him go. “What do you think of him?” she asked suddenly.
Lily shrugged. “I think he means well, but that his tendency to lecture gets in the way of—”
“Yehoshua?”
“Yehoshua? I thought you meant Deucalion. You must know what I think of Yehoshua. He’s absolutely dependable, levelheaded, competent, and capable of taking over command if necessary. Exactly the kind of person who makes a good First Officer.”
“Do you suppose he’s any good in bed?”
“Jenny!”
“Just a thought. I never was cut out for celibacy, you know. That’s how I got into the whole mess in the first place.”
“Jenny—”
“Save your sympathy, Lily. I don’t think I need it anymore. Really. Like Yehoshua said, it’s the sore spots that hurt the most and that one will always hurt. But life goes on, sooner or later, with or without you. That’s the choice we always have to make, whether to go with it. So what do you think?”
“Well.” Lily could not help but chuckle. “He’d be dependable.”
Jenny laughed. “Kiss of death, Lily-hae. You would get the only man on board who it seems to me is capable of sustained, interesting—although Pinto might well—”
“Doubtless Pinto would.”
There was a brief silence while both women contemplated Pinto.
“I hate men who are beautiful,” said Jenny with, perhaps, more heat than she was conscious of. “You can’t trust them.”
“Pinto is straightforward,” Lily countered, and she blushed a little, remembering how straightforward he was, indeed.
“He is a Ridani. They’re all straightforward. Lily.” Her voice dropped suddenly, taking on a more solemn, intimate tone. “How is it really, with Hawk? How bad is he?”
Lily could only shake her head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
The call came in the next day while the captain and her entourage were inspecting Engineering.
“An urgent request to speak with you, Captain,” said Finch over com. “From a Dr. Farhad.”
Lily glanced at her audience: Blue and Paisley, Jenny and Yehoshua and Bach, two technicians. At her gaze, as if with one thought, they all retreated to give her privacy. Bach stayed. “Put her through. Dr. Farhad? This is Captain Ransome.”
“I am deeply disappointed, Captain.” Even through the com-link, Lily could hear the uncharacteristic edge on Dr. Farhad’s otherwise calm voice. “You assured me—” She broke off, evidently too overcome by emotion for a moment to continue. “I scarcely expected an action of this kind. And with a patient so manifestly fragile. I thought you had a real concern for him.”
“An action of what kind, doctor?”
“It has not been my experience,” continued Dr. Farhad, as if Lily’s relay had not reached her, “that kidnapping is any kind of solution toward finding a cure with a deeply disturbed patient. It is most likely to exacerbate the disturbance, not soothe it, which, I assure you—too late now, unfortunately—is my only goal in this matter, whatever Central Intelligence may have done to him in the past. I thought I made it clear to you that I disapproved of their previous incarceration of him and meant to make a report to that effect.” She paused for breath.
For an instant, the only thought Lily could muster was that she was relieved that she was not having to face Dr. Farhad’s disappointment in person. “Dr. Farhad. If you’ll let me speak a moment.” Lily took in Dr. Farhad’s silence on the comnet as assent. “What kidnapping?”
The silence extended. “I trust,” said the doctor finally, but more slowly, and with a touch of uncertainty, “that this is not
some ploy on your part to attempt to lead me off the scent. I understand that he is your mate, and that bond runs very deep, and the obligations—as you put it when you left—are both strict and all-consuming. But that does not excuse—” She was getting her breath back.
“Doctor. One moment please.” Lily glanced up to see Yehoshua signaling to her. She waved him over.
As he approached, she could see the frown furrowing his temple. “Captain.” He looked puzzled. “Finch says there’s another urgent incoming. From our old friend. The bounty hunter. Windsor. He says he wants to speak with you about Hawk.”
The report left her speechless. Doctor Farhad chose this silence to start again. “Let me repeat, Captain, that does not excuse your strong-arm kidnapping of your mate from my care. I shudder to contemplate the damage this may have done him. I can only thank you”—here her voice grew plainly sarcastic—“for minimizing the damage done the suite and our equipment and for so gracefully handling whatever gas you used to render myself and my assistant unconscious. At least you have some scruples. The door will have to be completely replaced. And Kyosti—I haven’t reported this yet, Captain. Please, if you will only let me come over to your ship and continue seeing to his care.” She hesitated.
Lily felt numb, like all her nerves had blunted to nothing. “Yes,” she said tonelessly. “You’d better come over to my ship. I’ll send someone for you.”
“I prefer to arrange my own transportation. Thank you. I’m sure, under the circumstances, that you understand.”
“Certainly,” Lily agreed absently. “Ransome out.” She turned to Yehoshua. He took a step back, as if something in her expression or demeanor startled him. “That bastard.”
The com startled to life again. “Captain?” We’ve got another incoming.”
“Is it about Hawk?”
“No, but—”
“Then it can wait. I’m coming up and I want no interruptions. Understood?”
“Yes, but it’s from that pirate La Belle—”
“And a full-alert code two. Ransome out.” She turned and left. Behind her, Bach sang: