"You've been staring out that window for hours."
Tayvis turned, enough to see his mother. She leaned on the back of the chair where he sat brooding.
She smiled and ruffled his hair. "Do you want to talk?"
"No," he said flatly.
"When you do," his mother said, "I'll be here."
She straightened, her dress swirling around her as she turned away. She paused, waiting to see if he'd change his mind. He stared out the window. He wasn't ready to talk, he wasn't sure if he would ever be ready. The betrayal went too deep.
He was sunk fully back in his black mood before his mother made it out of the room.
How could Dace do this to him? Lowell had promised, back on Viya Station. He would arrange for them to get in touch again. So where had she been for the last four months? He'd heard nothing from her despite Lowell's promises.
Dace had changed, maybe more than he knew. Maybe she no longer felt the same about him. She had been so cold, so aloof. Vance had been with her. Vance's announcement sounded in his mind, over and over, though each word only made the hurt deeper.
Dace had said she loved him. She wasn't the kind of person to say that lightly. He had believed her. He had given her his heart. And she'd thrown it back at him. She was just like every other woman he had ever known. Give them the choice of higher social position, money, fame, whatever, and they jumped at it. Why else would she be with Vance?
Vance Shiropi, son of Iniuri Shiropi, Speaker to the Council of Worlds, was a conniving, manipulative jerk. Didn't Dace see that? Or did she see it all too clearly and still preferred it? Vance was, after all, one of the most eligible men in the Empire. His mother was a member of one of the oldest aristocratic families, second only to the Emperor's line. Tayvis came from a family with no such connections. He had his mother, an aging vid star. His father hadn't had anything to do with him for years. He wasn't even sure where his father was. He thought at one time it was enough for Dace. He had been so wrong.
He closed his eyes, and still saw her, leaning on Vance in her silver uniform. The uniform was wrong. Lowell should never have let her enlist, even as an admiral. If he focused on that, then he could almost forget the way she leaned on Vance.
She had betrayed him.
Maybe you're wrong, a small voice in his head whispered. Maybe she has reasons for what she's doing. She still works for Lowell.
"Two days," he whispered to himself. She knew he was here, on Linas-Drias, she'd seen him at the party. Had the look on her face been shock at seeing him? Because she hadn't planned on him being there when she announced her engagement to Vance? What other explanation could there possibly be?
He'd give her two days to find him and give him something, some explanation. He didn't want to admit he was so wrong about her. He wanted to cling to any shred of hope he still had that she was playing some game for Lowell. He didn't want to believe she would really marry Vance. Not Vance, anyone but Vance.
Vance Shiropi had tormented him since military school when he was twelve. He'd thought he'd put it behind him. But the sight of Vance touching Dace, putting his arm around her, brought back all of the anger and humiliation he'd suffered for those long years until they graduated from the Academy. And Dace had let him. That hurt most.
"Malcolm," his mother said behind him. "You've been there for hours. Come eat something."
He blinked eyes that stung from staring too long. The sky outside had grown dark as he sat brooding. His mother opaqued the window, pausing uncertainly in front of his chair. She smiled brightly, falsely, in an attempt to cheer him up.
"I fixed your favorite," she said.
He made himself get up and follow her to the dining area. He couldn't hurt her, not his mother. She was only trying to help him in her own way. His mother was ditzy, capricious and elusive as a bit of fluff in a breeze. She tried, in her own way, to be a good mother. Just like she was doing now. But she didn't understand him, she never had.
He sat at the table and ate food that tasted like dust.
"You'll never believe the gossip," she said as he finished the first course. "It's all over the news. Vance Shiropi is no longer available. He found the most interesting girl to marry. But you were there, at the party. You'll have to tell me what she's like."
He froze, unable to force himself away from the pain his mother was about to cause him.
"All I heard," his mother continued, oblivious to his reaction, "is from Livia. She said the woman is an admiral in the Patrol. Can you imagine that? She's some kind of Enforcer as well, but she's really short. Is something wrong?"
Tayvis dropped his fork with a clatter. He shoved himself away from the table without a word. He couldn't bear this, hearing his mother gossiping about Dace. Knowing that everyone else would be saying the same things didn't help.
He left his mother's apartment, walking into the night without a word. His mother's worried questions followed him. He left her standing in the door, limned by the light behind her.
He walked for hours. It didn't help. The anger and hurt and betrayal were still there, reinforced every time he caught a glimpse of a news screen. Dace's picture splashed across every vid screen on Linas-Drias, and at her side was Vance, smiling his irritatingly smug smile.
Tayvis kept walking, seeking some part of the city where the news vids didn't constantly play. It didn't matter that he was walking into the seamy side of the city, where the crime happened and everyone outside pretended it hadn't. No one there bothered him, he looked too dangerous. His scowl kept even hardened criminals at bay.
He'd give her two days, though each minute was killing him. And then he was going to go as far as he could get. He'd escape the constant reminders even if it meant burying himself on a frontier world.
What of Jasyn and her friends? The thought crept in as he strode down a littered street lined by closed and boarded buildings somewhere under the high speed transport system tracks. Had Dace betrayed them, too, by dumping them for Vance? She loved her ship and her friends. How could she leave them behind?
She had changed. He had to face the truth. He'd seen it beginning on Trythia. Something on Tivor must have finished it. Dace wasn't the same person. He had to let her go. Just like Wirea. He'd loved her, or thought he had, until the night she betrayed him and left him for dead. He'd hunted her down. She'd left him no choice. He had to stop her before she compromised the others. He'd shot her, late one night. He'd only been twenty two, on his first assignment for Lowell. He'd held her while she died. He'd vowed then that he would never love anyone again.
Dace had caught him by surprise. He wasn't expecting someone like her to literally run into his life. She had been so honest, so open. He had a hard time believing anyone could be so utterly naive. And somehow, during the whole disaster on Dadilan, she had won his heart without even trying.
He still loved her. He always would, but he couldn't live with the hurt.
He kept walking, through the long night. He had no idea where he was going. He was trying to escape the pain. There was no escape. Dace had betrayed his trust.
He found himself outside the towering building where his mother lived as the sun was rising. He ached with weariness but he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep. He didn't want to dream, not now that the dreams would be false.
His mother was asleep in a chair in the front room when he let himself back in. He paused, standing over her and watching her sleep. She wasn't young anymore. Age marked her face. She was still beautiful, graceful and elegant. She'd done her best for him, giving up promising vid roles if it meant leaving him behind. He'd grown up on the sets, always watching her pretend. He wanted something different in his life. He wanted it to be real.
He didn't fault his mother for the life she'd chosen. She was happy. And in a way, he'd chosen the same life. Wasn't working undercover for Lowell pretending to be something he wasn't?
That was what had attracted him to Dace. She'd been terrible at pretending. Or so it appeared. Maybe everything was an act. No, he couldn't believe that. He'd seen her at her worst, when she teetered on the brink of insanity. He'd seen her in situations that would have killed most people. And somehow she'd pulled through. There was a core of toughness and strength in her that amazed him. He respected her. And he loved her.
His mother's blanket had slipped down. He gently pulled it around her shoulders. She sighed and settled deeper into the chair.
He had to find a way to contact Dace. She wouldn't betray him this way. He couldn't believe that of her.
He went into the back office of his mother's apartment. It was the one room in the apartment that was truly private. Tayvis closed the door behind him.
He spent several hours with the city datanet. It took him a while to tease out the contact number for Vance's mother's apartment. He didn't even attempt to find the number for the official residence of the Speaker. Vance's father's number would never be listed.
Vance's mother lived apart from his father and had for years. There was no talk of divorce, it would be unthinkable in her social situation. Vance was the second oldest of six children. All of them had been shipped off to military school when they turned twelve. Before that, Tayvis had heard rumors that Vance lived at a boarding school for the very rich and very disturbed.
Vance had been arrogant and overbearing. He was a year older than Tayvis, but still in the same year at school. He'd gone to the Patrol Academy but he'd specialized in linguistics and socionomics. Vance found ways to sabotage him where he could. He spread rumors that kept the other cadets away from Tayvis. The Academy had been a lonely place, full of privileged rich children. Spoiled brats, most of them. Tayvis' mother had pulled strings and called in favors to get him admitted. He never had the heart to tell her what a miserable place it had been.
He had nothing that he could use as leverage, but he couldn't do nothing. He had to talk to Dace.
Tayvis entered the number in the com. It was still early, the sun low on the horizon. Tayvis didn't care about disturbing Vance's sleep.
The line was finally connected. A sleepy looking Vance blinked from the screen. He looked surprised.
"Malcolm," he said and yawned. "What an honor to hear from you. Is there something I can do for you?" The words had a snide undertone that was all too familiar. Vance yawned again.
"Where's Dace?" Tayvis demanded bluntly.
Vance slowly smiled, a devious and very satisfied smile. "She doesn't want to talk to you, Malcolm." Vance pronounced the name with malice. He knew how much Tayvis hated his first name.
"I don't believe you."
"You never have, but it doesn't matter. Dace doesn't want anything to do with you. In fact, she told me last night that she was glad I'd finally gotten rid of you for her. She felt awkward about things, but." Vance shrugged. "She's made up her mind, and you lost."
"I'll believe that when she tells me," Tayvis answered. He ignored the coldness growing inside. "I want to talk to her."
"She's still asleep," Vance said and smiled smugly. "She won't be happy if I wake her."
Tayvis caught the insinuation behind Vance's smug smile. He snapped the com off before he did something he would regret.
Dace was there with Vance. What other proof of betrayal did he need?
His hands shook. He felt sick. He couldn't stay here.
He ran from the room, away from the com, away from the certainty that Dace really had betrayed him. He slammed open the closet in the spare bedroom where he'd been staying. He didn't own much. He found his duffel stuffed in the bottom of the closet. He shoved clothes into it blindly.
He had to leave. He had to find someplace where he wouldn't have to watch the news vids. He could find work somewhere far away. He couldn't stay here and face the pain. He jerked the duffel closed and swung it over his shoulder.
His mother stirred and woke as he crossed the front room. "Malcolm?"
He stopped in front of the door. He owed her some kind of explanation. He couldn't speak, his throat closed up. His eyes burned. His mother touched his arm, her gentle hand reminding him of the times he'd scraped himself and she'd soothed the hurt. She couldn't help this time.
"That woman, the admiral, she was the one you talked about?" She didn't wait for his answer. It was plain to read on his face. "I'm so sorry, Tayvis."
"I can't stay here," he said, his voice breaking.
"Don't forget to write," she said.
He nodded as he pulled the door open. He knew she watched as he walked down the hall away from her. He also knew she would be waiting whenever he decided to return. He didn't look back as he took the elevator down.
The port offices were busy. He was only one more faceless person in the crowd as he glanced over the job board. Not that he qualified for anything listed. No one outside of the Patrol needed a weapons expert. Or an undercover agent. Or any of the other things he'd become for Lowell.
He had money, he could buy a ticket and ride as a passenger, except the ships weren't going where he wanted to go. There were flashing warnings against traveling anywhere outside of the Inner Worlds. He knew more about the Federation than anyone else, except maybe Lowell. He knew why there were warnings posted. All of the frontier worlds, and most of the Outer Worlds, were now part of the Federation. Last he'd heard it wasn't a shooting war, but it was a war. And the Empire was losing.
None of that mattered to him anymore. He was out of the Patrol. He didn't work for Lowell.
"You looking for a berth?" The voice was tired and rough, it matched the man who spoke. He wore a battered gray jumpsuit with grease stains on the frayed cuffs. "The ship ain't much, but it flies."
"What position do you have open?" Tayvis asked.
"What skills you got?"
Tayvis shrugged.
"I could use muscle to move cargo," the man said. "The rest we can figure as we go."
"Where are you headed?"
"You got someplace particular in mind?"
Tayvis shook his head. "Just out, away from here."
"You running?" the man asked suspiciously.
"Not really."
"It was a woman, wasn't it?" The man grinned knowingly. "Ain't got none on my ship. Won't have them aboard. Nothing but trouble."
Tayvis found himself agreeing.
"You ship with me, leave when you like," the man offered. "Work hard and I won't charge you passenger fees. We're headed out where no one asks questions. That good for you?"
"Perfect," Tayvis answered.
"Station seventeen, berth five twenty eight on the back side," the man told him. "Name's Jefferes, Captain Ky Jefferes. Welcome aboard the Black Rose. You got four hours to be there or I'll leave without you."
"Fair enough," Tayvis answered. He shook the proffered hand.
Captain Jefferes walked off in one direction. Tayvis headed the opposite, towards the ticket window for the shuttles. He had what he wanted, a way out with no questions asked. Then why couldn't he shake the feeling he was abandoning Dace? She'd betrayed him. He might still love her, but he would never forgive her.