Hellfire (THEIRS NOT TO REASON WHY) (42 page)

Today’s theme, prepared in the hours before the battle by bored crew members, was French Polynesian. The giant screens reflected a cerulean cove with a white sand beach and jungle-covered hills. Someone in Supply had dug out faux-thatching for the tops of the alcove-booths and strung garlands of bright, fake flowers around the hall. No one was dancing, but then the music being played was some variation on islander rhythms mixed with the sound of surf crashing on the projected beach, along with the occasional calls of tropical birds.

Last week, it had been a snow-dusted Bavarian village, with the rec-room temperature turned down to simulate a decent winter chill. Drinks had been served hot, snacks were sweet, and there had even been caroling contests with group songs and solo performances echoing up and down the corridors, some good, some bad, and all of it encouraged. Her little talk with that clutch of former Army soldiers during their first Wake had spread through the crew. No one gave her fellow ex-Marines grief anymore about wanting to sing.

Next week, if she remembered correctly, the Wake was scheduled to simulate the Athena Dome, a sports-themed amusement park on Mars; the activities listed on the roster included several ball-played sports games, plus vidgame competitions, and prizes for the highest-scoring shooters on the ship—excluding Jana Bagha and her husband Bei Ninh, to be fair to the others. They would get to be the judges.

Ia had stayed away as much as possible from the previous weekly Wakes until now. She wanted her crew to be able to relax, to claim the space as their own. To not have to worry about the rules and regs, or even be reminded of them simply because their Commanding Officer was around. This was their fourth Wake, though, and the timestreams had showed them just comfortable enough to survive her appearance.

They were so comfortable, in fact, that the first person to see her took in the curves of her red-clad figure and the legs
bared below her midthigh hemline, and let out a wolf whistle. The noise of his appreciation drew the attention of several others in the room.

“Nice legs, meioa-e!” James Hong called out, grinning in appreciation as he lifted his gaze from her knees to various points higher. “Nice the rest of you, too. I could definitely—oh
shakk
! Captain!”

His feet came off the table and his tanned face flushed, then paled. The half dozen or so who had turned at his whistle also blanched. Ia strolled over to Hong and propped her hands on her hips.

“You say that rank to my face one more time in this place, and you’ll get lifesupport filtration duty for a week,” Ia warned Hong, waggling one finger at him. “I left my rank and uniform outside when I put on this dress. That is the Wake Zone rule, meioa. Right now, I’m a mere civilian, just like you.” She started to walk away, then turned back and gave him a smile. “I do thank you for the compliment, though. I think they’re very nice legs, too.”

From his surprised but amused chuckle, Ia could tell he would recover from the shock of her presence. Nodding politely to the others, she headed down the terraced levels, searching for Meyun. She couldn’t exactly see him in the timeplains at the moment, but then he was the one person in the universe whose movements she couldn’t entirely predict. Somewhat, but not entirely.

Most of that, she had figured, was her mind protecting her from her gifts; she was very much attracted to the man on many levels. That in turn meant there was a chance that her emotions could sway her off course if she acted on those feelings, particularly if the consequences were personally appealing.

His laugh hadn’t changed since their Academy days; Ia followed the sound of that familiar, light baritone chuckle down to the lowest of the alcoves. Clad in shades of blue, he backed out of the makeshift room, hands raised in mock-protest at whatever had just been said.

Her precognition rose involuntarily within her. It swept over her like a tingling wave, dragging her down beneath the waves as she stood there, watching him. Watching a vision of his future.

…Meyun sat in the alcove and cuddled Nueng in his arms.
The young woman snuggled back, content to be in his lap. Outside the Wake Zone and the privacy of their quarters, they were discreet and professional, but here, they felt safe enough to be affectionate. Because their Captain had made this place safe, despite the chain of command that governed the rest of the universe occupied by the Space Force…

The floodwaters of that possibility chilled her from skin to bone. Her heart hurt at the thought of Meyun finding happiness with someone else, someone not her. Someone not his Company commander. Her head wisely pointed out that it would be for the best if he turned his attention elsewhere, even though it hurt.

Her awareness of that potential possibility happened in a flash, over and done in just a few seconds. She managed a smile when he glanced her way—and watched him give her a double take worthy of Hong’s, though without the whistle. Harper’s smile was genuinely warm as he looked at her, his brown eyes bright with male appreciation as they slipped down to her short red boots and back up again.

“Well, look at that. You
did
show up. What a surprise,” he teased. “I wasn’t sure you’d bother.”

Ia smiled back ruefully, hands going to her hips. “We established long ago that I’m a very dull girl, Harper. I came here because I know you arranged a cake. Where is it?”

Turning, he gestured at the interior of the alcove. “Bring ’em out, meioas!” Raising his voice, Harper moved to the center of the hall. “…May I have everyone’s attention? Yes? Thank you! As you all know, we’ve got a little tradition of celebrating birthdays each week at these Wakes, if there are any.

“This week,” he stated, as heads poked out of alcoves or turned away from conversations, “we’re celebrating three birthdays! Last but not least is Melody Nelson’s birthday, March 8. Unfortunately, she’s currently on duty, as this is second watch, so if you have a chance to celebrate it with her later on today, or at least run across her, wish her a happy birthday. Right smack in the middle is Ann Velstoq’, whose birthday is the sixth,” he added, managing the V’Dan glottal stop at the end of her name with the ease of someone who had practiced. “And there she is. Come on down, Ann; don’t be shy.”

Gesturing for her to join him, Meyun led the way toward one of the empty tables on the lowest terrace above the dance floor. Two members of his engineering teams followed, Zedon
and Svarson. Each man bore a platter with a cake on it, each frosted and iced with a name.

“And today’s
actual
birthday girl, as in born on this date a mere twenty-four years ago, Terran Standard,” Meyun teased, grinning up at his target, “is our very own Ia!”

“
Shakk
me!” someone swore. The voice belonged to Tanya Doedig, Ia realized, one of Harper’s engineers. The older woman eyed Ia askance. “You’re only twenty-four? I could’ve sworn you were
thirty
-four, Ca—er, S…Crap on a crutch!
Meioa-e
,” the dark-skinned woman finished, using the honorific instead of Ia’s rank or title. Doedig rolled her eyes. “Shove me out an airlock—I am
not
used to addressing you casually, meioa-e. I think I’ve been in the military too long.”

“Technically, you’ve been in only one more year than I have,” Ia pointed out. She turned to Ann, who had hesitated halfway down the stairs. “C’mon, let’s go cut the cake. I’m dying to know what kind got baked.”

Ann eyed her dubiously. “Aren’t you a massive precog? Wouldn’t you already know?”

“Only if I peeked. And I very carefully did
not
look at it in the timestreams, despite
great
temptation,” Ia asserted.

Halostein, a normally reserved, no-nonsense sergeant, grinned at her. “Well, you just earned
my
respect, if you honestly didn’t peek. I learned how to get into and out of my Christmas presents at a very early age with no sign of having opened or resealed the box. At least, until my fathers started hiding my presents at my biomom’s house, and hid my half sisters’ presents at our place. The first time that happened, I honestly thought they’d got me a dolly in a frilly dress!”

The story got a chuckle out of his listeners, Ia included. Halostein offered her the hilt of a knife he pulled from one of his cowboy boots. Accepting it, Ia moved over to the cakes.

“I truly didn’t look. I spoilered myself with the myth of Santa Claus at the age of five, and things went downhill until I was eight or so, when my older brother pointed out it was my own fault for peeking all the time. He scolded me and said that if I ever wanted to be surprised, I had to be strong enough not to look…so I don’t look at the things I know are going to be pleasant surprises. I always look in advance at the ones I think won’t be. It makes it easier to avoid ’em.”

Cutting into the one with her name iced in white, she
discovered from the crumbs beneath the blue frosting that it was a chocolate cake. Ia didn’t mind chocolate. She sliced the rectangle into several pieces, then served herself one. Ia wiped the blade on one of the napkins clipped into the holder on the table, and passed it to Ann, trading the knife for a fork.

Just as she forked up her first bite, Ia saw the blue crumbs mixed into the white frosting of the other cake. She glared at her first officer. “…Hey!
She
gets the topado-flour cake?
I’m
the one from Sanctuary, Harper. That’s
my
comfort food you put in
her
cake.”

Ann blinked, prodded at the corner piece she had cut off, and quirked her brows. “Yeah, what’s up with this blue stuff?
I
asked for a chocolate cake, not whatever
this
is.”

“It’s made from topadoes, and it’s very nutritious and very tasty,” Ia told her. “It’s a kind of tuber that can be baked, fried, mashed, grilled, or dried and ground into flour.”

Harper shrugged, biting his lip in the unsuccessful attempt to hide a smile. “My apologies, meioas; I guess the cakes got mixed up when they were being frosted. But there
is
an easy way around this problem, you know.”

Ann looked at Ia, shrugged, and offered her untouched fork and plate. “He’s right. And I know just what to do about it. Happy birthday, ‘Ann,’” she quipped, eyeing Ia. “May you have a wonderful natal day.”

Since she technically hadn’t eaten the chocolate one in her hands, Ia offered it to Ann in turn. “And a happy birthday to you, too, ‘Ia,’” she joked back. “Try a bite of the topado cake anyway. You might like it.”

“After my slice of chocolate,” Ann bartered. “Nothing gets in the way of me and my birthday chocolate.”

Moving back from the table so the others could try the two cakes, Ia found herself next to Harper. He snagged her forkful before she could eat it, and popped the blue dessert into his own mouth. That lifted her brow, but Ia didn’t protest, just took her fork back and cut another piece for herself.

“Mm, good,” he murmured. Moving a little closer, Meyun whispered in her ear, “But I know something else from your homeworld which tasted even better.”

Goose bumps prickled along her skin. Her former Academy roommate…her former lover…had a knack for rousing old memories she wanted to keep repressed. Ia knew that image
of him turning to someone else was supposed to be the better choice, even if it hurt.

She changed the subject. “How’s the gun project coming along?”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about work,” Harper retorted dryly.

“Only in an official capacity. This is unofficial, one friend to another,” Ia pointed out.

He sighed, sagging against the railing separating the terrace and its tables from the empty dance floor below. “Lousy. I can’t make heads or tails out of the source for the focusing crystals the Immortal used. It almost sounds like potassium nitrate, given she said she extracted the crystals from her own…um, yeah. But the physics and the optical properties of saltpeter crystals are all wrong for what the guns are supposed to be able to do, so it wasn’t
that
.”

“They wouldn’t work if we were dealing with an average Human, no,” Ia murmured back. “Luckily for you, I know exactly what kind of crystal you’re referring to. Get me the specs on the shapes and dimensions you’ll need, and I’ll get them for you. But be careful and thorough in your calculations. You won’t be able to alter the crystals in shape or size once you have them in hand. Only I can.”

“If the material is as rare as the properties she describes would make them out to be, then yeah, I’ll want to get them right. Whatever your source is, it’s bound to be extremely rare, and hard to get,” he agreed.

Rare, yes, but not
that
hard to get,
Ia thought, forestalling a reply with a forkful of white-frosted, blue-floured, slightly spicy cake.
Just sitting in palm-locked storage down by the bow shuttle hold is all.

Someone swooped in from her left, grabbed her face, and smacked a big, loud kiss on her cheek. Those hands and lips, applied at less than a twenty percent probability, belonged to Private Second Class Yung Ramasa. He released her with a grin, spreading his already broad mouth even wider, making him look like his military nickname. “Happy Birthday, pretty lady!”

The other crew members stared wide-eyed at the two of them, shocked and apprehensive. Mindful of the rules, Ia freed a hand, hooked it around his head, and pulled his own cheek
into reach for an equally loud-smacking kiss. “Thank you, Your Highness. Now go kiss Ann, too.”

Ramasa laughed and rubbed his hands together in delight. “I was just on my way to do that, Ca…er, meioa!”

“—Oh, no you don’t!” Ann protested, hand up to her mouth to cover the fact she was still eating her cake. She swallowed and waggled her fork at him. “I know your reputation with the ladies, O ‘Frog Prince,’ and I am
not
going to be one of your conquests!”

“I think she’s sweet on him,” Ia stated, catching both of their attention. She gave the smirking Ramasa a warning look. “But if he doesn’t back off, she’ll thump him.”

“It’s just a little birthday kiss!” he protested. “
You
didn’t mind,” he added to Ia, moving a little closer to Ann. “Why should she?”