Intrigued, he said, “Where are we going?”
She guided him to a staircase. As they climbed, she said, “There’s an observation deck. Nice one. Looks out at space.”
“I can’t see space.”
She spoke gently. “I’ll tell you how it looks. And we’ll have privacy.”
At the top of the stairs, she took him across an open area.Then she stopped and set his hands on a rail at chest height. Reaching forward, he touched a smooth expanse of dichromesh glass. Beyond that glass, vistas of space were surely glittering in their cold beauty.
Pulling Jeejon close, he put his arm around her shoulders. Her head only came to his chest. Warmth flowed from her mind. Since he had lost his sight, his Kyle senses had become so sensitized that he felt her moods almost as much as his own. Or maybe it was that he could relax with her, as if they had known each other for years. He wished he had met her sooner, when he was in better shape to offer a relationship. Then again, such a meeting may have done no good. Back then, politics, heredity, and duty constrained his existence. Ironically, he had more freedom now than ever before in his life.
“Tell me how it looks out there,” he said.
She sighed. “It’s right good. Stark beauty, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes. I do.”
“You can see the asteroid. Spikelands is behind us, across the port. Nothing here but rock and craters. Horizon is close. Real close. We go out there, we could sail off the cliffs like flying.”
He grinned. “Without air?”
Jeejon laughed. “We’ll breathe space.” She put her arms around his waist. “You can see forever stars.”
“Forever stars?”
“They go on forever. Trillions of ’em. Gold, blue, red, orange, white.”
He could imagine them in his mind, the glorious radiance of a trillion stars shedding their gem-light on Spikedown.
“Kelric?”
“Hmmm?”
“Tell me a story,” she murmured. “One to make sadness go away.”
“Ah, Jeejon.” He rubbed his cheek on the top of her head. He didn’t know any stories. So he told her about his recent life, pretending it was a fable. He changed his name, calling himself Rikson, a mythical bumbling prince for her to chuckle over.
Except she didn’t laugh. When he finished, she was silent. Her mood spread like a deep, still pool with an unreadable surface. When he stroked his finger across her face, he found her cheeks wet.
Mortified, he said, “What’s wrong? What did I say?”
She nuzzled her head against his chest. “‘They’re good tears. It was a fine story. Very heroic. I always cry when people tell good stories.”
He gave an incredulous snort. “Heroic? The hero was an idiot.”
“Why do you say that?” She sighed. “I’ve always liked folk tales like that. A valiant and intrepid prince takes on the entire Trader Empire. And wins. It is a very fine story, Kelric. You mustn’t call the hero an idiot.”
He couldn’t believe it. Valiant prince indeed. She had been stuck on Spikedown too long.
For some absurd reason moisture gathered in his eye. A tear ran down his cheek. Fortunately she was looking out at space, so she didn’t see.
They stood arm in arm, watching the starscape he couldn’t see. It didn’t matter. He would savor the forever stars through her appreciation of their beauty, and because of the gift she gave him just by being herself.
25
The Last Day
Jeejon helped him into the bedroom. It was a relief to lie on her bed. He stretched out on his back, wondering what his last hours would be like. It could have been a lot worse. He could have been alone.
The bed creaked as she sat next to him. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes.” He was too tired to say more. The trips to the army office and observation deck had taken the last of his energy. He reached for her hand. When she folded her fingers around his, he said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Kelric—” Her voice caught. “Tell me you’ll make it.”
“Of course I will.” He managed a smile. “I’m a stubborn old mule.” He felt so tired, though. It would be good to sleep.
“You can stay here as long as … as you need.”
Her voice had a sound of tears. Reaching up, he wiped the moisture off her cheek. “Don’t cry.”
“I should tell you …” She ran her fingers over the ridges made by the armbands he wore under his jumpsuit, which he had done since he reclaimed them from Tarquine.
“Tell me what?” he asked.
“I went to the port after my last shift. Tried to buy you passage offworld with your armbands. No one wanted gold. It’s worthless.”
He could tell she feared he would be angry she had offered his bands. He squeezed her hand. “Thank you for trying.”
She sighed. “It’s frustrating. My living room is packed full of those metals and I can’t do anything. Gold, silver, bronze, platinum, copper—all worthless.”
Kelric froze. “What did you say?”
“My sorry. I don’t mean to dwell on it.” She took a breath. “Are you hungry? I can make dinner.”
He hardly heard her. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he said, “You have platinum in your living room?”
“Everything there is metal. Can’t get wood here. One tree’s worth more than all them platters and dishes I got.”
He took hold of her arms. “Platinum? Platinum?”
Her puzzlement washed over him. “The vase you knocked over last night is platinum. Got two others like it. Fifteen years ago there was a glut and people were dumping platinum.” Bitterly she said, “I thought someday it’d be worth something. So I stocked up, dolt that I am. You see all the good it did me.”
“Jeejon!” He wanted to laugh. Shout. “You were right!”
“Right?”
“Do you know whose provider I was? Tarquine Iquar. The Highton Finance Minister.” He grinned. “All they talked about was platinum. Eube has a shortage, a bad one, but they’re trying to hide it, to keep down prices. Those vases of yours are worth a fortune. More than enough to buy passage off this spikeball.”
“No. It can’t be.” She hesitated. “Do you mean it?”
“I mean it.”
“But—no, I can’t believe it.” Hope flushed her voice. “A fortune? Are you sure?”
Laughing, he said, “I’m sure.” His smile faded. “If they’re really platinum.”
“Solid.” Her mood blended disbelief and hope. Given what was at stake, literally his life, she feared to believe him. “Do you think? Maybe it could work?”
Kelric struggled with his own hope. He had so little time and they had so far to go. “We have to try.”
“If I can sell them, what ticket do I buy for you?”
He took both her hands in his. “Not me. Us.”
“You want me to come with you?”
“Yes.” He wished he could see her face. “Very much.” Awkwardly he added, “If you would like to.”
She made a soft noise. “Yes. I would.” Then she straightened up. “But to where? Surely not Eube.”
He had no time to be tentative in his approach. They had to go all the way. “To the Allieds, Jeejon.” He squeezed her hands. “We’re going to Earth.”
Shouts beat against Kelric’s ears in waves of desperation. They had an eerie muffled sound, as if they came through water. Words echoed and faded.
He walked along the main concourse with Jeejon, holding her arm, trying to fight his sense of falling. His limp had grown worse and their drifting steps heightened his vertigo.
The noise grew louder. Now he could distinguish voices in the rumble. Gripping Jeejon’s arm, he slowed down. “What is it?”
“People outside the boarding gate for our flight.” She swallowed. “We got to go through them.”
“Why are they at the gate?”
“They want off Spikedown. Threatening to storm the ship.” She put her other
hand on his, where it lay on her arm. “Happens all the time. That’s why we got riot squads.”
“Will they let us through?”
“The lieutenant said yes. Gave the police our tickets …” Her voice faded.
“Jeejon? I can’t hear you.”
“Is this better?”
Relief washed over him. She still sounded muffled, but he could make out words. “Yes.”
“My sorry, Kelric. I turned my head while I was talking. Where did you lose the words?”
“Something about our tickets.”
“The official checking this flight has ’em in his computer.” She sighed. “We just got tickets. I’m not good at bargaining. Even after selling all three vases, I barely had thing left over.”
He squeezed her arm. “You did fine.” It astounded him that she had gone on her own, while he slept, and bought them passage, even with a few funds left to spare. He doubted he could have done much better. She had wanted him to rest, to conserve his last resources. And she was right. They were racing a deadline, with his life in the balance.
“We won’t have much left when we reach Earth,” she said. “You sure you want to go to this Scandinavia place?”
“My parents are there.”
If she answered, he didn’t hear. The noise from the gate was swelling as they approached. He could decipher only a few words from the crowd, people demanding, pleading, cajoling for passage on the ship. Other voices, police, he thought, were telling them to disperse.
Jeejon’s steps slowed. She guided him to the right. Minds pressed in on him. Too many people. So close. He and Jeejon were on the outskirts of a ragged throng.
Jeejon was speaking, but he had trouble catching her words. Then he heard her say, “Let us pass.”
His arm rubbed someone. Another person jostled him from behind. People moved all around them, flooding his senses with distress and anger. More people blocked their way. Someone at his side shouted something about having credit from an obscure bank. Someone else shoved past Kelric. Another person tried to follow. Unable to keep his balance, Kelric stumbled to the side and almost knocked over Jeejon.
“—let us through!” Jeejon’s voice rose, adding to the noise. She slid her arm around his waist and he leaned on her, regaining his balance before he toppled like a giant tree into the throng.
They managed another step forward. Then people blocked their way. The crowd surged, its agitation increasing as the shuttle’s departure time neared. Bodies penned him on all sides, jostling him back and forth as the crowd churned. Voices echoed in his ears. The edge of hysteria in the mob threatened to erupt. With a growing dismay, Kelric realized he and Jeejon might not make the flight.
“Let us through!” Jeejon shouted.
“No. Not you!” Someone shoved her, tearing her away from Kelric.
“Jeejon!” He grabbed for her, but his hands closed on empty air. Without her support, he swayed, his equilibrium eroding. People kept pushing him, their voices a cacophony of noise. He put his gauntleted forearms to his head, pressing against his ears to block out the echoing shouts. Without his hands for balance, he lurched to the side and nearly fell. Have to get out—
“Combat mode toggled,” Bolt said against his ear.
Kelric lashed out with his arm. His hydraulics took control, toggled by library routines in Bolt designed for hand-to-hand combat. He kicked his leg up to the side, high in the air. At the same time, he punched out with one hand, fast, while he used the other to protect his face. Both his foot and his fist connected with solid flesh and he felt rather than heard the gasps.
Losing his balance, he spun in what felt like slow motion. In the low gravity, his feet easily left the ground. Yet compared to everyone else, he was moving fast, his hydraulics boosted to enhanced speed. His body had reverted to its engineered purpose: fighting.
As he landed, he struck out again, even as he swayed for balance. His fist hit flesh. His heel impacted a body. His kick lifted the person and they sailed off his foot, undoubtedly arching through the air in a slow trajectory. He spun around, lashing out with one arm while he kept the other in front of his face, kicking his leg in a dance of deadly grace. It was why he operated so well in free fall: he had trained in a martial art so sophisticated it was as much an art form as a method of self-defense.
As if from a far distance he heard screams. The smell of singed hair and burnt skin assaulted his nose. A crackling surrounded him, like lightning.
Finally catching his balance, he came to a stop, his feet planted wide, his hands held at his sides. He was alone now, without even one person touching him. A loud snapping cracked around him, as if his body were making electricity. Breathing deeply, he stood poised, ready to fight again.
The crackling faded. The crowd had gone utterly silent.
“Gods,” someone finally said. Others spoke then too, their voices too low for him to heat.
“Leave him alone,” Jeejon said.
Someone put a hand on his arm and Kelric reflexively punched out with his fist. He meant to hit the person in the stomach. Had he been able to see, he would have broken ribs. His foe was smaller than he had expected, though, and he caught him—her?—on the shoulder instead, knocking her away from him.
“Kelric.” Her voice was calming. Soothing. No hostility. No threat? “It’s me. Jeejon.”
He took a breath. Bolt, toggle me out of combat mode.
Jeejon spoke again. “I’m going to give you my arm. You won’t hit me again, will you?”
He exhaled. “No.”
Her fingers touched his elbow. She took his hand and carefully laid his palm on her arm, giving him an anchor. Then she spoke to the crowd, raising her voice. “He’s a Jagernaut. He could have killed any of you. Don’t push him. He can’t see. If you startle him, he’ll fight again. You might not be as lucky next time.”
Although Kelric knew she was guessing, making it up as she went along, she had hit the truth.
Another voice spoke, giving directions, it sounded like. Jeejon said, “Yes, sir,” and drew Kelric forward.
No one touched them. No one spoke loud enough for him to hear more than a muted murmur. He wasn’t even sure the murmur was real, rather than an effect of his damaged hearing.
They walked a few steps. Then Jeejon stopped him. A man said, “Names?”
“Jeejon and Kelric Garlin,” she said.
The man paused. “I don’t have you listed here.”
“I already paid for the tickets,” Jeejon said. “Our names got to be there. Major Montgomery’s office verified it.”
“I’m sorry.” Tension edged the man’s voice. “I can’t let you through. You’ll have to step back.”
“No!” Jeejon cried. “I paid. It’s all set up.”
Kelric heard a gun slide out of its holster. “Step back,” the man repeated. “Now.”
“Wait,” Kelric said. What name had he given the lieutenant? “Try Valdoria.”
Another pause. Then the man exhaled. “Jeejon and Kelric Valdoria. We have it.” A rustling came from his direction, as if he were gesturing with his arm. “Stand here for the retinal scan.”
Wary relief trickled from Jeejon. She tugged Kelric to the side. A retinal scanner clicked, followed by a mechanical voice. “Verified.”
“You’re cleared to pass,” the man said.
Kelric felt the officer’s tension, even the ache in his hand where he was gripping his pulse revolver. Nor was it only this gate official. Everyone around them was watching Kelric as if he were some wild, beautiful animal that might go berserk again if anyone made the wrong move.
Jeejon nudged him forward. “Boarding is over here.” She guided him to the right.
After they took several steps, the quality of the space around them changed. “Where are we?” he asked.
“Decon.” A moment later she asked, “Kelric? Can you hear me?”
“What? Yes. Did you say something?”
“Decon is finished.” She drew him
forward. “Step up—yes, right here.”
Putting out his hand, he felt the edge of a hatchway. “Is this the docking tube?”
“Yes.” She led him forward, walking slowly so he could keep his balance. Her tension stretched all around him, interwoven with his own. He couldn’t relax until they were on the shuttle, which would take them to the Allied ship in orbit around the asteroid.
They stepped through another hatchway. Another step and his hands brushed the back of a seat.
Softly Jeejon said, “Here.” She guided him into a seat.
He felt other passengers watching them. This shuttle apparently followed a design favored by Allied commercial ships, with seats arranged around the perimeter of the cabin, facing inward on a table so people could socialize if they wished. Trader and Skolian shuttles were less friendly, with rows of seats facing forward.
After he sat down, Jeejon tried to fasten his safety webbing. He pushed her hands away. “I can do it,” he grumbled. He wasn’t an invalid yet.
She withdrew. Then her voice came from the seat next to him. “We made it.”
Kelric exhaled, his tension finally easing. In a low voice, to keep their conversation private, he said, “I hope I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Only some bruises. Singed hair and clothes too.”
“Singed? How?”
“Your gauntlets were jumping arcs of electricity.” She sounded disconcerted. “It was wild. Looked like you were some avenging god with lightning. Scared the blazes out of those people trying to trample you.”
He rubbed his hand along the gauntlet. “Being Imperator has advantages I didn’t know about.”
Her voice gentled. “If you want me to call you that, I will. Whatever you like.”
He bent his head and spoke by her ear. “I’m not crazy.”
“You’re …”
After waiting for her to finish, he said, “Jeejon?”
Acceleration pushed him back in his seat. They were taking off, and he hadn’t even heard the engines start.
“—hear me!” Her voice was right in his ear now.
“Ah, don’t.” He pulled his head away. “That’s too loud.”