her instruments 02 - rose point (12 page)

It disturbed him that this should be his last memory of Theresa Eddings: an enigma he now would never know the answer to, one he sensed was changing in a way he might ordinarily have found intriguing. He fought the urge to follow her and investigate. Instead, he brought his bag and case out from one of the storage lockers lining the corridor and strode away, toward the kaleidoscope of light and activity, the emotional noise of thousands of people intermingling.

He would have to use the trip to decide what to do with himself once he arrived. His instinct was to go to his cousin—no matter the circumstances surrounding their parting—but doing so would involve navigating a court crowded with arrivals for the winter season. Given his notoriety, he wasn’t looking forward to it. But his choice was that, or to go back to Jisiensire and the memories waiting in eager ambush there.

There was nothing for it. He needed help.

Somewhere nearby there would be a place he could buy an encrypted comm stream. After that, he should be contacted within an hour or so. He’d have enough time to eat and then he’d be crossing another airlock and on the way.

“Come on,” Reese whispered to her tablet. She forced one of her hands to stay on Allacazam’s fur, and through it she sensed his attempt to calm her down. It came in the form of a slow glowing field of colors in the back of her head, and all it did was split her concentration and give her the beginnings of a headache. “Come on, I’m running out of time here.”

The intercom interrupted her. She smacked it with the side of her hand. “Tell me.”

“It’s fine, Boss. We’re following him.”

She pursed her lips. “I hope you’re not in plain sight.”

“Aw, Angels, Boss... we’re not complete amateurs. We’re doing our best not to be conspicuous.”

That sounded ominous. The Harat-Shar were never inconspicuous, Bryer was a Phoenix and easily spotted in the typical crowd of Pelted, and Kis’eh’t took up more room than a bipedal.

They were what she had to work with. And abruptly, it was fine. She found herself smiling at the intercom. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it when I don’t see you.”

“Good try there. You’re not getting rid of us so easy—”

Her tablet chirped. “I’ve got to go. Keep following him!” She switched the intercom off on his promise and spread the message that had just leaped into her queue.

You will be met at the airlock by a representative. Godspeed, and we look forward to meeting you at last.

“Yes!” Reese shouted. And then stopped. “Wait, met at the
airlock
?”

Allacazam sent a quizzical buzz and then an alarmed jangle of colors and squeaks when she scooped him up and trotted toward the door. Did the Queen really mean her airlock? Right here? As in—

She stopped at the sight of a Tam-illee foxine waiting expectantly at the threshold, wearing a bright smile, perked ears, and a dark blue uniform piped in silver that looked a lot like livery but from no association Reese recognized. The emblem at her breast was an upside-down U with two ears. Behind her were a pair of Tam-illee in the same uniform, standing in front of two crates.

“Captain Eddings?” the woman said. “I’m Malia Navigatrix. I’ve been sent to help you prepare your vessel for a trip.”

“You have?” Reese said, startled.

“By the Matriarch of the Amacrucian Church,” the Tam-illee agreed, serious now.

“You have. You really...” Reese trailed off. The logistics of what was happening... it suggested a network of communication and people she couldn’t even begin to fathom. But then again, her patron was the queen of a planet, and one not a member of the Alliance but an actual allied state. What did Reese know about the resources of queens?

“Please, come in,” she said firmly. “Tell me what needs to be done. I’m guessing something has to be, from the crates.”

“Nothing you’ll object to, I don’t think,” Malia said. “But yes, let’s discuss it.”

“Absolutely.”

Leading the team of Tam-illee inside, Reese grinned. For once, she’d managed to outflank the Eldritch. She was looking forward to seeing his reaction. In the crook of her arm, Allacazam turned an amused orange and sounded a victorious bugle in her mind.

Hirianthial’s needs were far less strenuous than the last time he’d made a comm call; buying the security needed to reach his world directly was far more costly than using the sector drop-code to summon the Queen’s couriers. Hirianthial paid for the use of a secure facility, but once he’d been ushered into the room assigned him, it was the work of only a few minutes to set up contact and request a meeting. After that, he shouldered his bag and case and went to the address he’d been given: a park, and a lovely one. He sat on a bench with his luggage at his feet and leaned back to enjoy the light, which while artificial was real enough to fool his skin.

The approaching aura drew his attention long before he heard footsteps in the grass: a brisk sunny yellow, shimmering. He opened his eyes and found a Tam-illee foxine standing before him in his cousin’s livery, complete with the horseshoe emblem at the shoulder. It had amused Liolesa to brand her offworld courier service with an obsolete-to-them mode of transport... but they themselves had suggested decorating it with stylized fox ears, to imply the generations of Tam-illee who had sworn themselves to her service through another Jisiensire, Lesandural Meriaen.

“Lord Sarel Jisiensire? I am Theodore ChartsStars. I’m here to see you to your vessel. May I take your bag?”

The foxine had known not to offer for the case, of course; they were well-trained, and proud of that training. To deny him the chance to render his services would be uncouth, though Hirianthial was quite capable of carrying both himself. “Please, and thank you.”

“My pleasure, Lord. This way, if you will.”

Hirianthial took up the case and followed the todfox. The vessels the Queen’s Tams employed were very similar in make, private couriers, swift, dangerous and able to dust themselves with the latest in concealment technologies. He anticipated going back to the homeworld in a ship very much like the one he’d left in. It didn’t concern him overmuch that he recognized the path they were taking: the vessel was no doubt in the civilian dock somewhere, just like the hundreds of others visiting the starbase. It wasn’t until he turned into the bay and saw the entire crew of the
Earthrise
awaiting him at the airlock along with two other of the Queen’s Tams that he stopped short.

“Hi!” Reese said, arms folded. Her nonchalance didn’t fool him at all: she was, undeniably, smug. “We’re your ride home.”

“I’ll bring your bag to your quarters,” his guide said, and hopped into the airlock.

The foxine female—the company’s senior from the uniform design—inclined her head and said, “My lord. It will be a pleasure,” before turning to her subordinate and saying, “See to the final tests, please.”

“I didn’t think the Tams used private vessels,” Hirianthial said to her.

Unfazed, she replied, “My lord, the Queen’s Tams use whatever vessels she deems appropriate.” She bowed and then followed her subordinate inside.

...which left him with his friends, and he didn’t know where to begin.

Kis’eh’t said, “It’s good to have you back. I’m cooking dinner using my fancy new skills, courtesy of Sascha’s mother. No toast this time. Don’t be late.” She smiled and hopped into the ship.

Bryer eyed him but said nothing; he wouldn’t. But he expected a remonstrance from the twins, particularly since he could sense their hurt beneath the pleasure of seeing him again. Because he was expecting the remonstrance, Sascha’s actual question struck hard and deep. “Was it something we did? Did you think you couldn’t trust us to help you?”

“I... it was the furthest thing from my mind,” Hirianthial said. “Never, arii. It is only that I had a need and did not think the
Earthrise
could fulfill it.”

Irine grinned. “I hope that’s the last time you underestimate Reese.” She tugged at Sascha’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go keep an eye on the foxes.”

As they vanished into the corridor, Reese called after them, “That better mean ‘keeping an eye on them’ and not ‘distract them with sex!’” Irine’s giggle trailed after her, a hollow echo.

Reese turned back to him, arms still folded, leaning against the airlock frame. Not anger, he thought. Something more complicated that he couldn’t read at all, glossed over with an opalescent glimmer.

“Theresa,” he began, and stopped when she held up a hand.

“I’m not upset,” she said. “I’ve done my share of running. But I hope you understand that we’re here for you. Sometimes,” she paused, then shook her head, rueful. “Sometimes, doing it alone is the wrong way. It’s almost always the wrong way, I’m beginning to think.”

“You may be right,” he said. “But you may not be able to follow where I lead.” He thought of the bodies and grew cold. “And I may not be worth following.”

She did not immediately protest, which surprised him. He looked at her and found her considering him. At last, she said, “Well, do us the courtesy of letting us make that decision, all right?”

“All right,” he said, startled.

“Now come on,” she said. “That case has got to be heavy. Go put it back in your room.”

He dipped his head to her and walked past her, back into the ship. And as worried as he was about what awaited him... he was glad to be back.

Taking an Eldritch home was more complicated than Reese had anticipated.

“You mean to tell me you’re coming with us?” she asked Malia.

“I fear I must, Captain.”

They were in the mess, having some of the leftover apple pie Kis’eh’t had made for Hirianthial’s ‘welcome back’ dinner. The foxine had looked at it uncertainly when Reese had set it in front of her, but one taste had convinced the Tam-illee of its merits and she was now scraping the edges of the plate with her spoon, trying to get the last flecks of filling.

Reese watched her, puzzled. She wasn’t upset at having to host someone, but she hadn’t expected it and she couldn’t imagine what would have motivated the request. “I have a good pilot. No, I mean, a great pilot. He can do the job if you tell us where to go.”

Malia looked up at her as she stopped, frowning. The foxine’s ears perked.

“And you can’t tell us where to go,” Reese guessed. “Is that it?”

“Yes,” Malia said. “I’m sorry, Captain, but these are long-standing orders.”

“And when you say ‘long-standing,’ I somehow bet you mean ‘so long standing neither of us were alive when they were originally issued,’” Reese guessed.

Malia nodded, her silver bob swinging around her chin. “I see you’ve worked out a little of what it’s like, dealing with Eldritch.”

“A little, maybe,” Reese said. “Will I be taking on your other two people as well?”

Malia licked her spoon with a tiny pink tongue. Reese repressed the urge to think her adorable—that was all she needed. The twins would laugh her out the airlock. Noticing Reese’s stare, the foxine colored at the ears and said, “Ah, sorry. I’ve never had pie like this.”

“Kis’eh’t’s baking is something else,” Reese agreed.

“But no,” Malia said, setting the spoon down and folding her hands around her coffee cup. “I’ll be the only one. You won’t have to pay me, and any expenses you incur by taking me on—food, air, recycling, medical care, et cetera—would be reimbursed when we reach our destination.”

“Wow,” Reese said, staring at her. “This is a big production, isn’t it? You’re part of a company, I guess?”

“Of a sorts,” Malia said. “And if you’re allowed to go where you’re going, you’ll probably find out all about us. But in case you don’t, you won’t mind if I’m quiet about the details?”

“Of course not,” Reese said.

“You said that?” Irine asked Reese later, having come for her own slice of pie. Kis’eh’t was behind the counter, working on another, having seen how fast the first was going. Allacazam was sitting on the table under his sun lamp, and Sascha was getting mugs from the clatter in the galley.

“Of course I did,” Reese said. “What else was I going to say?”

“You could have said ‘no.’” Sascha set a tray on the table, then pulled out a chair and reversed it so he could straddle it. He started pouring. “I’m surprised you didn’t put up more of a fuss, Boss.”

“I think by now we’ve had enough experience with military matters for me to know when people are keeping quiet for a reason,” Reese said.

“Yeah? What’s her reason?” Irine asked, setting a plate of pie in front of her brother.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Reese said. “Maybe slavers constantly trying to steal the people she’s taking us to see?” She shuddered. “Can you imagine what would happen if slavers found out where they could get an entire planetful of Eldritch?”

“They’d have to fortify the place like a bank vault,” Sascha said.

“Because that’s what it would be. The galaxy’s biggest bank vault.” Reese rubbed her arms, trying to get the gooseflesh to smooth out. “No, I’m not at all concerned about staying quiet. Actually, I’m beginning to wonder if we’ve set ourselves up for something a little more dangerous than we’re up to.”