Starbound: A Starstruck Novel (36 page)

Squashing down my panic—I had
lots
of practice by now—I let Molly help me undress, then finished getting ready for bed. Just before lying down, I glanced one last time at my omni…and saw the message indicator blinking. I picked it up off my nightstand, expecting another totally unnecessary reminder from Eric that time was getting short, since it had been more than two days since his last one.
 

Instead, to my delighted astonishment, it was a message from Rigel!

Testing if this works. Quick chat tonight after MT asleep?

I quickly touched the reply button, which opened a holo-keyboard.
Works!
I typed.
What time? Love you!
I was about to hit send when it occurred to me that he might be using his grandmother’s omni, which meant she’d see anything I wrote. Reluctantly, I deleted the last two words, then sent my message.
 

Quivering with eagerness, I slid between the sheets, the omni on the pillow next to me, and waited. And waited…

A soft pinging in my ear woke me more than an hour later. I blinked, disoriented, thinking for a moment that I was in my old bedroom in Jewel. Then memory flooded back and I sat up. Rigel! I quickly smoothed my hair with my fingers, unsure if we’d be able to see each other or just talk.
 

“Rigel?”

“M! I can’t talk long—or loud—but it’s great to hear your voice.”

“Ditto! How are you? Can you do that holo-video thing?”

“Not sure. I’m using the the vid in my room. I had to reprogram it to send that text and I spent the last hour getting voice to work. Just a sec, let me try something.”

While he did more tinkering, I made sure my own ultra-security setting was in place. According to Kernan, that encrypted my conversations and made them unhackable—by anyone.
 

“Okay,” Rigel said, “try your holo button.”
 

I did, and after a long second or two, a fuzzy image of Rigel appeared in midair in front of me.

“You did it! Can you see me, too?”

He nodded. “Probably better than you can see me. Best this ancient thing’s camera can do.”

“You said you have to be quiet. Does that mean your grandmother will get mad if she knows you’re talking to me?”

“She didn’t
specifically
forbid me to contact you, just made a point of telling me my vid’s comm settings didn’t work.”

“So you’re not
exactly
disobeying her, since she didn’t make it a rule.” I couldn’t help grinning, since I’d similarly skirted the line with Aunt Theresa on plenty of occasions. “Has she been awful to you?”

His blurry image shrugged. “She’s gone on and on about me and my parents and how we’ve all let her down and disgraced the family and stuff, but she hasn’t put me on bread and water or anything. The worst is all the tests and treatments she’s putting me through.”

“But are they working? Are you feeling better yet?”

“Finally, as of yesterday. But I hate what Grandmother has the Mind Healers doing. It’s like they’re trying to brainwash me, make me forget we ever had a bond. Which I won’t. Unless…unless it would help if I did?”

“What? No! Why? Because of all that junk on the news, about Sean and me? That’s just media spin. The only reason he’s staying so close is to keep me from getting sicker.”

He gave a single nod. “With the side benefit of helping you in the polls.”

“Yes, but please don’t think—”
 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t even imagine the pressure you’re under right now. How are you holding up?”

“Talking to you helps,” I told him truthfully, “but I wish you were
really
here. I…I’m afraid I can’t do this on my own, Rigel.”
 

Suddenly, I was pouring out all the fears I’d had to keep bottled up over the past week. It was an incredible relief to finally share everything I was feeling with the one person in the universe who completely, totally understood.
 

“So if I can’t turn things around tomorrow and Nels won’t meet with us, we’ll have to go public with the truth to get me Acclaimed,” I concluded. “In which case it’ll be up to me to keep the whole colony from going into a panic meltdown. Then I
still
have to be some kind of…intergalactic diplomat, to somehow convince the Grentl not to destroy us. Oh, and I
hate
all the awful stuff they keep saying about you on the news, Rigel. I’m scared a mob will show up at your grandmother’s with torches and pitchforks!”

“I’ll be fine.” Of course he’d say that. “Grandmother won’t let anyone actually hurt me. Please don’t worry about me, M, on top of everything else. If casting me as the villain gets you Acclaimed without spilling the beans, it’s good news for everybody, right? We can worry about my reputation once you take care of…everything. Meanwhile, I’ll just lie low.”

I stared at him helplessly, wishing I could sense his real feelings and thoughts, know for sure if he
really
believed he was safe. “Oh, Rigel, I need you so much!” I whispered.

He gave a convulsive little twitch. “I’m sorry, M. I wish we could— But there are bigger things at stake right now. Don’t let me—missing me—screw that up, okay? I don’t need that on my conscience, too.”

“Your conscience? Rigel, none of this was
ever
—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, I’d better go. I’ll make sure Grandmother sends you this new serum first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“You don’t think it’ll screw up our bond?” I asked fearfully.
 

“We won’t let it. And hey, once it works, you won’t need Sean to keep you healthy. Bonus.” He tried to grin but even pixelated it looked fake. “Now get some sleep so you’ll look your best on camera tomorrow.”
 

“I’d rather talk to you.”
 

This time his smile looked real. “We’ll manage it again soon—as long as I don’t get caught.”

“Can you erase the record of this on your end, in case your grandmother checks?”

“Yeah, I made sure of that before I texted. Don’t want to give her an excuse to make rules I’d have to break. Sleep tight, M.”
 

“I’ll try. I love you, Rigel. I’ll do my best to get Acclaimed really, really soon, so we can be together again.”

“Among other reasons. I love you too, M. G’night.”
 

The second he broke the connection I fell back against the pillows, only realizing then how hard I’d been working to appear alert and healthy so Rigel wouldn’t worry even more. As I drifted off to sleep I wondered if he’d been doing the same, or if that new serum worked as well as he claimed.
 

And whether I really wanted it to.

After that cathartic but frustrating talk with Rigel, I slept like the dead for nearly ten hours. Even so, it was all I could do to drag myself down to breakfast the next morning. Sean greeted me at the elevator and gripped my hand, like he’d been doing every morning. It helped, but I was still achy and yawning when Mr. O startled me with a big smile.
 

“We had a courier from Morag Teague half an hour ago with this.” He held up a vial and a device that looked like a syringe without a needle. “She says it has been effective for Rigel and hopes you can benefit from it, too.”

“Oh!” I don’t know why I was surprised, when Rigel had promised. “That’s, um, great. How does it work?”

“The message said to administer it as a standard hypospray. I’m no Healer, but I think I can manage it—unless you’d rather call in someone more trained?” Mr. O’Gara hesitated with the vial halfway to the syringe.

I glanced at the others. Sean, still holding my hand, was frowning slightly, while Molly looked hopeful and Cormac was as impassive as always. “I’m fine with you doing it,” I said.

“Shall we, then?” He clicked the vial to the syringe, then, when I nodded my permission, he pressed it against my upper arm. The little hiss startled me but didn’t hurt at all.
 

“Did she say how long before we’ll know if it works?”
 

Mr. O glanced at his omni, where I guess he’d saved her message. “Within a few hours. Let’s hope it makes a difference before that round table debate.”

Even as he spoke, I felt—or imagined I felt—a lessening of my headache beyond what Sean’s touch had accomplished. Since the outcome of today’s debate would decide whether or not we had to break the news of the Grentl colony-wide, I really, really hoped what I felt was real and not just wishful thinking.

“Sean, maybe you should keep your distance for the next hour or two, to avoid clouding the results,” his father suggested.

“Oh. Um, yeah. I guess that makes sense.” He reluctantly loosed my hand, worry and a silent plea creasing his brow. “Unless you’d rather I—?”
 

“No, your dad is right. It’s the only way to know for sure.”

He gave a curt nod and went to sit across the breakfast table instead of beside me like he usually did. Now that he was no longer touching me, I couldn’t feel his conflict as strongly as before, but it was obviously still there. And understandable, I supposed. He really did want me healthy, but if this worked, he’d lose his ironclad excuse to stay close to me—touch me—constantly.
 

By the time we finished breakfast, it was obvious to everyone that the serum was helping. I’d eaten twice what I had at any one meal since Rigel left, and both Molly and Mr. O remarked on my improved color. My energy and mental clarity were creeping back, too, an even bigger relief. Rigel hadn’t been faking last night after all.

Mr. O had cleared my schedule so we’d have time for some last-minute grilling before this afternoon’s all-important debate. When we finally left for the studio, on the outskirts of Thiaraway, I felt sharper and better prepared than I had all week. But would it be enough to make the difference we needed?

An hour later, I was seated at a long, curved table with my primary opponents: Devyn Kane, Nels Murdoch and Gordon Nolan. Crevan Erc’s petition to be included had been denied on the basis of his
fine
, so he was already organizing more protests.

The moderator explained to the cameras that he would take questions from a small, hand-picked audience consisting of acting ministers and various other high-ranking Royals who had arrived on Mars over the past week. The one questioned would have ninety seconds to respond, after which each of the others would have one minute to comment.

At first everything proceeded smoothly, the questions touching on the various policy issues Mr. O had prepared me for. I felt like I was acquitting myself well, even with Sean sitting all the way at the back of the room.

“Tell me, Princess,” the acting Minister of Terran Obfuscation asked early on, “how you can possibly oversee the emigration of our people to Earth over the next century without compromising the secrecy my Ministry has worked so hard to maintain, given your background?”

“If anything, Minister, I believe my background will be an advantage. Having been raised as an Earthling, a
Duchas,
if you will, I know better than most how they think and how much we can risk them discovering without endangering our people’s future there. Believe me, growing up in Jewel, Indiana, gave me firsthand experience of just how bigoted and fearful people can be when they don’t understand something. Small, rural towns are hardly known for being broad-minded.”
 

A few questioners chuckled, reminding me that while most Nuathans were familiar with American television programs, for many that was the extent of what they knew about us. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.

“Even in ignorant backwaters like Jewel, or, say, Mayberry, people can be educated, if it is done gradually and without condescension. Such education will be essential if our people do not want to live out their lives in hiding or deception. With strictly controlled,
gradual
release of information, I am confident that our children, or at least our grandchildren, will one day be able to take the prominent place in Earth society that will benefit both them and the
Duchas.”

“She makes it sound easy,” Gordon responded the moment I indicated I was done. “But who decides what information gets released, and when? A teenaged girl who grew up, as she says herself, in an ignorant backwater?”

Devyn’s response was less patronizing but essentially the same. “While I have no doubt the Princess’s intentions are good, a leader with a broader, more adult experience of the various facets of Earth culture might be better able to carry her stated goals to fruition.”

Nels, who had never visited Earth, made a different argument. “There is also much to be said for extensive, firsthand knowledge of our own people and what they’ve endured in recent years. Without that, it would be difficult to orchestrate the sort of orderly emigration and education the Princess hopes to achieve.”

So it went, for the next hour and more. The moderator repeatedly reminded the audience that questions could be directed to any of the four of us, but most seemed to be for me. And, as Mr. O had predicted, once the important policy issues had been addressed, the questions became more and more personal—as did the comments from my fellow panelists.

“Yes, yes, you’ve stated repeatedly, Princess, that nothing beyond a kiss occurred between you and your Bodyguard while on the ship.” Gordon’s expression was frankly disbelieving. “Yet we’ve still heard no specifics whatsoever on what
did
happen behind that closed door. After suffering Faxon’s abuses and lies, Nuathans will no longer tolerate secret dealings by their leaders.”

I looked him straight in the eye. “I’d say hacking into a ship’s security system to violate the privacy of someone’s personal cabin involves ‘secret dealings’ as well, Gordon. Nuathan law does not require a Sovereign, or anyone else in government, to relinquish
all
claims to privacy in the name of openness. I have admitted that kissing Rigel was an error of judgement—
my
judgement. I’ve also stated that nothing else of a physical nature occurred between us, either aboard the
Quintessence
or elsewhere. I still maintain that position.”