Song of the Navigator (22 page)

“How about I help you whip up another batch for them?” Tover offered.

Ana shook her head. “Tamales are labor intensive, but I'm sure we could come up with something quick.”

“We have more important work for him,” Diego interrupted.

Cruz's smile immediately disappeared. “If he wants to,” he said. He stared at Tover. “Only if you fucking want to, Tover. Your days of being ordered what to do are done, I promise you.” Cruz glared at the rest of the table in challenge.

Diego inclined his head slightly. “Of course, if you choose. It is your call.”

“And if I don't want to help?” Tover asked, alarmed by Cruz's anger. “What will happen to me?”

Diego shrugged. “Nothing. You've more than done your part for our cause. If you wish to have nothing more to do with the protection of Carida, that's up to you.” He leaned forward. He rubbed his hand over his beard. “But we desperately need your help. There are supplies we need to identify, and I understand you can determine contents of cargo loads without manifests, yes?”

Tover nodded. “To a degree. I can't tell details, but if you want me to identify the gist of a shipment, I can do that for you.” He swallowed. “So you don't need me to jump?”

Olivia opened her hands. “We don't even have a vessel with a navport at the moment.”

Tover let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

“But if we got one,” Ramon added, narrowing his eyes. “You could use it, right? You could help us with supplies and moving troops, if need be?”

“Perhaps,” Tover said. “I can't make any promises. But I'll consider it.”

“Then, until we get ourselves a ship, that will have to be the best we can hope for,” Ramon replied.

Epilogue

The political fallout from Cruz's report on the Republicast continued to shake Carida and the entire CTASA colonial empire.

Tover and Cruz watched the aftermath from Lourdes's bedroom, now claimed as their own, while the Pulmon Verde worked to take advantage of the situation. There had been pressure on Cruz to move back to Villazul where he could take more of a leadership role, but he declined the offer. He wasn't a military leader—he was a structural engineer. And one who had done his part.

One unexpected benefit of the havoc was Tover and Cruz's short-term safety. At first Tover assumed Harmony didn't pursue him because they were too occupied with other matters. But now he saw how badly it would reflect on Harmony, if they chased their navigator back from the planet they were planning to eradicate.

One month after the news leak, word came that a commission was holding a special hearing on Carida itself, and several dignitaries high up in the political wheelhouse of CTASA would be in attendance. Cruz's participation was requested by los jefes, as well as the attendance of his partner.

At first Tover wasn't sure why he was specifically requested. He was able to inform el Pulmon Verde of manifest contents from Lourdes's home, he could sense them anywhere. But then he learned one of the attending council members, a finance minister from the wealthy colony of Marsha One, had traveled to the planet on his own personal broadship. A broadship that had a navport option.

Cruz insisted that Tover was there to break them into the ship, not to navigate it. It seemed like a weak excuse but Tover didn't think too hard about it as he and Cruz traveled by nave into the city, and met up with Lalo, Feo, and the other Pulmon Verde at the port.

The vessel was beautiful, and expensive. Obviously the dignitary had money and was striving to make an impression.

Why he hadn't thought to
secure
the vessel, however, was anyone's guess. The night guard of the port dock was easily paid off. It took Tover all of one second to jump himself and Cruz inside; it took fifteen seconds more to disable the security door and let the other fifteen Pulmon Verde soldiers waiting in the corridor inside.

Tover still tensed when surrounded by the fatigues and rudimentary bolt pistols of the guerilla soldiers, but that reaction was fading. For the last month he'd been respected as a navigator, but even moreso as a hero, the one who broke Cruz's story after Zoya had pulled the plug.

Cruz broke open a panel near the security door and yanked out a microchip. He tossed this onto the port dock facility and followed the rest of the men inside.

Tover led the men through the vessel, scanning each cabin as he walked to confirm the make was the one he'd researched when first told of the opportunity. The ship would be perfect for their needs. It was small and could be disguised well amongst a small fleet of personal vessels; but it had a trade compartment large enough to move extensive cargo.

As Tover and the other Pulmon Verde stepped into the bridge, he immediately saw the helmet suspended in the rafters.

“It has a navport installed,” Tover said.

Cruz scowled and held out his hand. “No one's forcing you, Tover, got that?”

“I'm fine,” Tover said quietly. He found the navport and swiveled the chair. It was an older model, the 2000 range, but it wasn't as primitive as the ship on Jarrow. He flipped a switch to descend the helmet and inspected the pipe. It was clean, at least, and a gentler shape.

“You sure?” Cruz said in a low voice.

Tover waited to feel the rising swell of nausea, but none came. He nodded. “I can do it, as long as I have my hands. Don't strap me down.”

“Will it still work?” Lalo asked. The rest of the men gathered round the seat as Tover flicked on switches and powered on the speakers.

Tover then crawled beneath the navigation console and disconnected the biofeed from the cuffs. He rewired them together so they weren't getting a blank signal. “Now it will.” He tried to keep the resentment from his voice. He'd looked up that particular hack the day before, appalled that all it would have taken is one small alteration on the navport to make his life that much easier.

But that had never been the point of using navigators, had it?

He checked that the amplification system was set to move the ship itself and not separate cargo, then turned to Cruz. “Where do you want to go?”

“Where
can
we go?” Feo asked, looking at the panel like it were some ancient treasure.

Tover checked the amplification capacity of the ship. It was far better than the Jarrow ship, and his mouth curled into a smile. “Anywhere. Well, anywhere in CTASA holdings at least.”

Lalo grinned. “How about Adelaide?” He glanced over to Cruz. “It's a remote outpost. We could hide there for a day or two until the PKs give up the search for us. Then we can dock it in the hangars at Marisma del Norte.”

Cruz nodded. Tover grabbed hold of the helmet.

“Do you need a star chart?” Lalo asked.

Tover rolled his eyes. “Come on! Fucking strap in!”

“Let's go, go!” Feo ordered the men around the ship. “If we're going to do this without being caught we gotta do it now.”

Cruz hovered near Tover, glaring at the rest of the men.

“You gonna be my navboy?” Tover asked with a smirk. He acted cocky but he was pale, and Cruz saw it.

“Always got to be a fucking hero,” Cruz whispered. He took a seat nearby.

Tover hooked closed the clasp of the helmet. He gripped hold of the mouthpiece. It was cold but clean.

The mouthpiece stung cold as Tover stuck it down his throat, but there was no instant gag reflex. His hands twitched at his sides.
He could always take the helmet off,
he reminded himself.
He was free. He could take it off
.

He closed his eyes and listened. The vibrations sang. He belted out a response. It wasn't loud but it was pure. The entire ship punched through space.

Adelaide was deep in an area patchy with nebulae and loose space debris. He could sense them like scratches on the surface of polished gold. He pushed through, popped them in low orbit above the outer station and yanked out the mouthpiece, the metallic taste foul in his mouth.

There was a stunned silence on board as the men stared out the bridge windows in surprise. Tover reckoned none other than Cruz had jumped by orbifold before.

“Fuck me!” Feo stared at the orbiting station in shock. “Fuck me!”

Everyone broke into applause. Unlike the ritual back at DK Station, this felt genuine, and Tover smiled, having forgotten the warmth of honest praise. Lalo's open admiration glowed in his young eyes. Even Cruz, colder than the rest, face usually blank of emotion, looked fierce and proud.

“No wonder the Arlandians kicked our ass,” Lalo said. “You moved a million pounds with your mind, amigo.”

“Can they trace us?” Feo asked.

“Not effectively.” Tover's voice sounded raspy and raw.

“I removed the tracer tag,” Cruz told him. He turned to Tover. “You okay?”

“Need water,” Tover growled.

Cruz left to fetch water from the galley, while Lalo checked his wristpad.

“No one has noticed the missing vessel yet,” he reported.

“We haven't affected the investigation, though, have we?” Feo asked.

Lalo shook his head. “The guard's going to tell them some kids took the old man's cruiser for a joyride.” He grinned. “Who would have guessed we'd have a navigator with us?”

Tover suspected someone might. Eventually someone at Harmony could put two and two together—Cruz's absence, Tover's disappearance, and hunt them down. Harmony had its hands full at the moment with the Carida scandal, but once that died down, it would be possible to find Tover again. They'd done it before.

Tover wasn't safe, nor would he ever be. But he had an army backing him up, a cause he believed in, and most importantly, a life partner, someone who made the frightening realities of the future a little less daunting.

The water Cruz fetched for him was brackish from the system iron, but it helped the burn. Tover sat beside Cruz and looked back at the navport.

Pride radiated out of him as he did. He jumped. And he didn't throw up afterward. As long as it was his call, he could still use his powers. It made him grin and grab Cruz's hand. It felt odd doing so in front of other men, so publicly, but then Cruz closed the distance and kissed him. Tover laughed against Cruz's cold lips. Cruz reached down to Tover's crotch, and someone in the back grumbled about perverts and someone else told them to get a fucking room.

Tover didn't care. He was a navigator.

“I'm serious this time,” Cruz whispered. He caressed Tover's rough cheek. “My fucking hero.”

“I know how you can pay me back,” Tover suggested, eyebrow lifting.

Cruz grinned. “Galaxy's best blow job?”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Tover, you love four things. Food, soccer, birds and fucking.”

“Five things,” Tover corrected. “You.”

Acknowledgement

A thank-you is owed to my friends and writing companions, Ginn Hale and Nicole Kimberling, without whom Carida and Dadelus-Kaku Station wouldn't exist.

This story was originally designed to be part of a shared-world anthology written by the three of us, each with our own novella. We started designing the CTASA colonies, and Carida, together one year at a conference. As it happened, my idea came first and I worked on it while they were busy with other projects. As time went on, it became clear it would be some time before they could ever complete their stories set in this world. My story also grew in scale to the point that it was no longer just a short novella about a navigator with Stockholm Syndrome as originally intended—it became a full-length novel of its own. Hence I set about publishing it separately.

But fear not! There is always a possibility that one of these days, the story of Carida and the residents of DK Station will continue, courtesy of Kimberling and Hale. (But don't pressure them too hard, you'll get me in trouble.)

About the Author

Astrid Amara has lived in Maidenhead, England, Jerusalem, Israel, and Bukhara, Uzbekistan, but settled in Bellingham, Washington in the United States because she distrusts the sun. She is a former Peace Corps Volunteer and an advocate for animal rights. By day she is a bureaucrat working for The Man. At night, however, she's either writing, riding her horse, or spending her time with her husband, two goats, and three dogs.

She is the author of over sixteen gay speculative or contemporary romance novels, including
The Archer's Heart
, which was a finalist for the Lambda Literary Award.

More details and contact information are on her website:
www.astridamara.com
.

Look for these titles by Astrid Amara

Now Available:

Half Pass

If you loved this book, then you're sure to love these Samhain favorites as well!

Paul King's inheritance is named Serenity Stables, but for him it's far from serene. He has one plan for the crumbling facility: unload it as fast as possible. But two months on the market, and he's still mucking stalls and dreaming of his old life back in San Francisco.

It doesn't help that he seems to have misplaced a horse. Not just any horse—Tux, a million-dollar Warmblood who, despite lacking opposable thumbs, has an Olympic medal to its name. So does its Brazilian trainer, Estevan Souza, a man whose darkly sexual, smoldering glances
almost
make Paul forget his horse phobia.

Intriguing as Paul finds Estevan, distractions are piling up. The boarders are picky. The arena roof is leaking. His drunken cousin is wreaking havoc. Tux's owners are threatening to sue. On top of that, a bucket of blood points to possible murder.

Suddenly, Estevan's glances are looking more suspicious than sinful. And, if Paul can't come up with a plan to save Tux, he could lose not only his chance with Estevan, but his life.

Warning: Includes beautiful horses, men in tight breeches, murderers, horse thieves, Olympic champions, cowboy hats, anal sex, broken dreams, and the conquering of traumatic childhood fears.