Chapter Nineteen

 

The mechanics may have replaced the syphoned fuel and repaired the smashed parts, pero nobody had time to paint over the graffiti covering the left side of the Fois Gras. All that clean white metal must have been irresistible as a canvas.

I speak a lot more Zant than I read, so I have no idea what most of it says. It can’t be bueno.

Brill blinks at it. “Now that’s not even physically possible.”

“Mi vida–” I put a hand on his arm.

“It’s just words. They’re angry.” He points at a line of Krom writing along the arcing front fin. “Whoever kept writing Zombie spelled it wrong.”

I’ve not heard that particular slur before, pero it obviously comes from the Krom ability to go extended amounts of time without breathing. They can look dead.

“I’m sorry I landed here. I was only thinking that because I can take care of myself, it wouldn’t be a problem.” Chestla stretches her hands, the claw-like nails catching on the fabric of her jeans. They’re still perfectly polished with glittering purple. “I didn’t think they’d take it out on you.”

“Ga, su,” Brill says. “This is about us and Kaliel.”

“They think you had something to do with the bombing?” Chestla asks.

“More that Bo did, and I brought her here. It’s good that we have a reason to get off this rock. There’s already talk of trying her in Kaliel’s place. Apparently, Verex was ita ita popular.”

“Can they even do that?” I squeak.

“Legally, ga. But if they appeal to Garfex, he can do whatever he wants.”

Chestla stares at the graffiti. “Then let’s get out of here before that happens.”

Brill gets us in the air and out of atmo, and I’m watching Zant recede into a blue marble when my sublingual rings. I brace myself for a scolding from Mario, or even Mamá trying to talk me out of going.

But it’s Frank. What the heck, Bo?

“Que?” I say it out loud and in mi cabeza.

“Who are you talking to?” Brill asks.

“Frank.”

Brill holds up a tiny square. “I may have locked him in a bathroom back at the hotel. After I stole his phone battery.”

“You told me he didn’t want to go with us.”

Frank heard my half of that exchange. Put Brill on the phone now.

I can’t. It’s a sublingual.

“I didn’t want him on my ship.” Brill’s eyes slip towards gray. “I’d like to be able to sleep in my own home without worrying if Mr I’m a Weapon is going to get orders to try to kill me. Again.”

Which is a valid concern.

This isn’t a good time, viejo. I hang up the call, just as Frank’s telling me he’ll catch up with us if we give him a location. I turn to Brill. “You know he really is going to try to kill you when he sees you again.”

“Not if we’re successful.”

My handheld rings seconds later. Frank must have figured out that Brill never got a chance to replace his phone the second time.

“It’s for you.” I toss it to Brill. They’re going to be talking for a while.

I study the nav. We’re following Kaliel’s trajectory, pero it’s not like he’s going to just keep going straight until we catch up with him.

In fact, Brill makes a face at something Frank’s said, then changes course so dramatically that the internal stabilization can’t keep up. It throws me off balance, and I grab on to the wall. There’s a clatter from inside Brill’s cabin. He looks up, and suddenly his gun is in his hand. He drops my phone onto the dash.

The cabin door opens, and Tawny’s standing there, looking disheveled. She pulls Jimena’s old headphones off. “Tell me we’re not already in space.”

What was she doing in there? Planting cameras on the ceiling so she can watch Brill sleep?

“Did you not notice us taking off?” Chestla asks.

“I’ve been a bit preoccupied listening to the news.” She blinks at us. “Which apparently you haven’t heard.”

She pulls out her phone and pops up a hologram. It’s one of the regular HGB FeedCasters, a twenty-something black guy with frosted hair. “…having given him a second chance. FeedCasts coming from Zant have labeled Johansson, ‘The Rogue Earthling.’ The families of his presumed victims are demanding swift justice, and have collectively offered a seven billion Bingt reward.”

Brill groans, his eyes darkening to black. “It’s going to be a zoo out here.”

The feed shows still images of each of the deceased, back when they were still happy and smiling. The last photo, claro está, is the beloved Zantite holostar, and it lingers in the air for a long while.

Then the FeedCaster’s back. “Earth has disavowed all knowledge of and responsibility for Johansson. If you have any information–”

Brill’s eyes turn a strange brick red. “Babe, that means the bounty hunters won’t hesitate to kill him.”

I’m still reeling. When everything had gone wrong with the SeniorLeisure ship, HGB had lobbied hard to get people to see it as accidental and forgivable. They have less information now, and they’re not even going to try to spin-wash Kaliel this time.

I look at Tawny. “Is this the ramifications you were talking about, mija? Or one of your suggestions?”

Tawny looks offended. “This was not my idea.”

My sublingual rings. It’s Tyson. Do you want to call it off? Tere’s going to be a bloodbat. You do not want to see tat.

Will you help him?

Bo–

Then I still have to try.

I hang up, pero the sublingual rings again immediately. Tyson, I told you–

Mija. How can I help?

Moisture shimmers in my vision. Mamá! Lo siento I–

Don’t worry, Bee. Just let me know when you’re in danger from now on. Sometimes influence can help you.

She’s referring to how I didn’t tell her I was supposed to have been executed aboard the Zantite warship, how I haven’t exactly been forthcoming about my experience on Zant. I’ve wondered, though. How can she be as blasé as she is about HGB – and still have been concerned enough about my safety at their hands to have sent Chestla to protect me? Pero now’s not the time to ask about that. Can you get them to un-disavow Kaliel?

Don’t ask for the moon and Interface Station. Mamá sounds shocked.

Tawny’s still got the holo playing, and now there’s a foot-high version of my head and torso saying, “Being human is about loyalty and honor, and not bailing on your amigos. I’m not giving up on Kaliel until he tells me why all of this happened.”

Then there’s a close-in shot of Minda. “Mercy is a gift.” She stares intently at the audience, the splice work invisible. “You heard me.”

Then bouncing back to me, at the bar, shrugging into my fizzy turpentine. “By all rights, I should have been executed for what I did by stealing cacao on Earth. That made me appreciate what a gift mercy can be.”

Then Verex, alive and playing shadow puppets with my little sister, smiling up at the camera. “Mercy is a gift? Yeah, I can believe that.”

Dios mio!

I manage to suck in a breath past the shock.

Let me think on it, Mamá, and get back to you. I hang up.

Then I stare at Tawny. “You released that?”

She shuts off the holo. “I had meant for it to be a metaphor about the invasion. And then I had to waste it on Kaliel.”

“It wasn’t wasted,” Chestla says. “People will still see the metaphor.”

Tawny smiles for real. “Thanks.”

We all realize that that could be good or bad. Because they will see the metaphor, we’ve just tied the outcome of our whole attempt to stop the invasion of Earth to selling the Zantites on the concept of mercy for one insignificant Earthling.

“Please return me to Zant.” Tawny scrunches up her nose. “It’s safer than where you’re headed.”

“Can’t.” Brill looks like he’d like nothing more than to boot Tawny off his ship. “No spitpod. We’re already a couple of hours behind, so there’s no way we’re turning around and taking all the time and fuel to land.”

“Fine.” Tawny pockets her phone. “I’ll be in my room, trying to sort this mess. I can find a ride back when we reach a suitable planet.”

Brill calls after her, “Stay out of my cabin!”

I call Mamá back, using my handheld. I want her to see that I’m OK. She’s sitting on a sofa with Botas half in her lap, half on the seat beside her. There’s another hand petting the corgi. Probably Frank’s.

I try to ignore that. “I figured out what you can do, Mamá. Talk Minda out of canceling, por favor. Take my place on the tour and show everyone that humans are capable of keeping their word, and that Minda still trusts us.”

Is it sad that Tawny’s the one who has given me hope? Though her ad amounts to little more than emotional manipulation.

“I could do that.” Mamá bats her eyelashes dramatically. “El espectáculo debe continuar.” The show must go on.

“Absolutely not,” Frank says from outside the capture field. “That’s going to be a logistics nightmare, and there could be another attempt on Minda’s life. I was willing to go with you and Brill,” there’s a hint of bitter growl in his voice, “because your mother was going home.”

“The show must go on, Frank.” Mamá sits up straighter. Dios ayude a Frank if he thinks he can change her mind. “Mario can take all the girls home with him in the morning. I’ll tell him when he gets here.”

The corgi starts whining, picking up the tension between his people.

“Let me talk to Bo for a minute.” Frank takes the phone from Mamá and walks over to a balcony that overlooks the phosphorescent bay. “I’m curious. Did Tawny coach you to say that stuff about mercy for her holo, or do you really believe it? Do you feel HGB and the court gave you a gift?”

I start to say that of course I do, pero, looking at his skeptical face, I hesitate. From one way you look at it, I had been shown mercy by the Global Court. By another, I had played the game and earned my escape from the shave.

Claro está, he’s implying that by accepting their mercy, I’ve made my peace with HGB. And I haven’t.

I swallow. “I said that on my own. It suited the context. It doesn’t matter what I believe.”

“I think it does.” Frank smiles. “Look, if your mother is staying, I’m staying. I’m going to protect her – at all costs.”

“Now that’s a switch, viejo.” Last time, he’d leveraged my mother against me, threatening to kill her if I didn’t turn myself over to the Galactacops.

Frank laughs. “It’s better this way, don’t you think?” Inside the room, all the girls start giggling. Frank smiles past the camera, and it chills my heart. I can’t help it. This is my family he’s trying to become part of. His eyes look happy when he says, “Tell Brill I forgive him.” He must see something hard in my face, because his smile dims a few watts. “Mercy and forgiveness are related, Bo.”

We’re not talking about Brill anymore.

“Let me talk to Mamá.” My voice cracks.

Frank looks at me like he didn’t expect that. Pero, without comment, he gestures Mamá onto the balcony and goes back inside. I hear him make a lame joke and the girls laugh.

“Cómo?” I ask Mamá. “How am I supposed to take your advice?”

Her eyes soften. She looks back into the room that I can’t see, where Frank is still joking with the girls. Mi hermano Mario laughs. Somehow, even he has accepted Frank, though he only knows that Frank works for HGB and threatened Mamá. Not that Frank killed Papá.

Mamá says, “You have the biggest heart of anyone I know, mija. Always have.”

“Mamá, you couldn’t even forgive me when you thought I stole your fiancé. What Frank did is so much bigger than that. So how?”

Mamá sighs. “It is not that I did not forgive you. Whatever was happening in your life that got you to that point–” She means the wild parties, the DWIs, the frustangerated FeedCasts, all of which embarrass me now, “–and then whatever really did happen with Hugo – I felt like I had driven you there. You had pulled away from me. I had failed, as a parent, and as an amiga – and my own fiancé had made me feel so old. And I did not know how to face any of that. So I responded to your anger with my own. Lo siento.”

I stare at her in shock. “Mamá.”

She’s done opening up, shifts the topic back to Frank. “Look at it this way, mija. The two men I have loved were on opposite sides of the war.” She’s talking about the First Contact War, implying that it never really ended, because not everyone accepted the outcome. Even now, there’s a fragile balance between HGB’s power and anger at their abuse of it that could easily rip Earth apart again. “When I was young, everyone’s friendships y familias fractured over something as estúpido as chocolate. Pero, once it was over, the ones left alive had to figure out how to fit back into each other’s lives. I do not know what the right side is here, but I do know that whatever Frank has done, he honestly believes it was necessary to keep Earth safe. And I honestly believe that you have done the same.”

I try to imagine Mamá as a child during the war. She’s a few years younger than Frank, so it wouldn’t have been her amigos fighting, pero, I know mi abuelita played some part in it. It obviously affected Mamá more than she has ever let on.

“I will think on that, Mamá.”

The minute I hang up, Chestla hands me a broom.

I’m still trying to sort my emotions. I manage to crack a smile I don’t feel as I look at the spotless floor. “I know the down time in space can get boring, chica, pero Brill’s a neat freak. We don’t need to clean.”

Chestla rolls her eyes. “Since you refuse to carry a weapon, I need to teach you to defend yourself with whatever’s at hand. Take that and try to hit me with it.”

Like in the cheeseball training montage scenes from every action movie I’ve ever seen. “Two sessions on board this ship is not going to turn me into a Jedi.” We’d watched Star Wars together once, and she’d mentioned then how improbable that kind of instant progress is. Pero, I do have this frustangeration with nowhere to go. I adjust the broom so that I’m holding it more like a light sabre – or, even better, a piñata bat. “Wait. Where are Tawny’s camera drones?”

I imagine the electronics bursting out of one of those like tiny bits of candy. Satisfying, no?

“Don’t paint me as your Obi-Wan.” Chestla steps towards me. “I’m supposed to protect you, not turn you into me. I just need you to be able to help me do my job, because on Evevron, my skills may not be enough.”

“We were just on Zant,” I protest. “How much worse can it be?”

Chestla takes the broom away, pivots behind me and strikes the back of my knees. I fall on my butt and she throws the broom at me. I roll away, and it clatters to the floor.

Brill’s out of his chair, across the room, helping me up. “If I help out, can I get a note for Frank saying you trained me?”

His eyes are violet with the humor of it, pero Chestla smiles predatorily. “Even better. Try to hit Brill.”

He gives me a look like, You wouldn’t, would you?

I look at Chestla. “He’s Krom. Eso es imposible.”

“Is it?” She picks up the broom.

“Hest!” Hey! “I was joking. Frank would never give me credit anyway.” He retreats so fast the motion is a blur. “I’m not going to hit a girl.”

Chestla says, “You sounded serious enough to me.”

Five minutes later, Brill’s on his back, one of Chestla’s boots on his chest. She points at him, pero she’s looking at me. “It’s all about patterns, figuring out where the target is going to be.”

“Can I get up now?” Brill asks.

“I’m never going to be able to do that,” I protest.

“Then how would you use the principle for defense? How could Brill have avoided me catching him?”

“Seriously,” Brill says. “This is embarrassing.”

“Then get up.”

“Haza.” Fine. Brill elbows Chestla in the back of the knee, so lightning fast she doesn’t even brace for it. He uses her lack of balance to push her away from him, then rolls to his feet.

She stumbles, pero doesn’t fall.

In Brill’s place, I’d have still been on the ground. I really should have said no to going to Evevron.

Brill’s studying the broom. “Patterns, huh.” Then he asks, “Can I borrow your phone for a minute, Babe?”

He makes a voice call, while Chestla gives me the broom again. I never manage to hit anything except a box of cargo, and the stink of fermented fish fills the cabin. Chestla coughs.

Brill squints as he holds up my handheld. He looks wistfully at Chestla, who is taking the ultra-expensive box towards the trash chute. “Geckh. That stuff is illegal on a lot of planets for a reason. It’s going to be in the air filters forever. But good news, Gavin has a lead on the ship Kaliel stole.”

Gavin is Brill’s closest friend. He’s not the most reputable kind of guy, pero mi vida has good reason to trust him. “That’s muy bueno.”

“You’d think so. The place he wants us to meet him is a ship graveyard.”

My heart clenches. Something bad must have happened for Kaliel’s ship to end up there. “Kaliel’s muerto, no?”

“No.” Brill hesitates. “At least if he is, the body isn’t there. We’ll be there soon, and we’ll figure out more.”

I’m tense, and there’s nothing I can do here but wait. Pero, I can’t just sit, especially not so close to the fish-smell. I retreat into the galley. Brill’s got some high quality Krom wine chilling in the fridge, and some vegetarian protein blocks. I can at least make something Gavin might be willing to eat – something portable, since it’s too fish-smelly to stay inside the ship. He’s much more of a strict vegetarian than Brill, more into Krom culture and traditions. And he was horrified the first time Brill expected him to eat food prepared by an Earthling.

I am never going to be his favorite person, pero Gavin seems more willing to tolerate me since that time I helped Brill save his life.

 

When we get to the wrecking yard, I wrap the abandt – the Krom version of a riceball or sandwich – individually, while Brill’s balancing the atmo and opening the doors. Tawny’s sending her camera drones with us, pero she’s refusing to leave the ship.

I have never been on an asteroid as bare as this one. Half of the derelicts were simply crashed onto it.

In the middle of all the ruin and spare parts, there’s a pristine black cruiser. Gavin is leaning back against it, squinting at us. He has lightly hooded eyes and a thinner frame than Brill, so while he could still pass for human, the impression I get is of a Hadvaxian stick frog.

“Took you long enough.” He says it sarcastically, pero his grin and the way his eyes are shifting to a light lavender mean he’s trying to be cómico.

“Here, mijo. This should make up for it.” I toss him one of the abandt.

He catches it easily and unwraps a corner. “Everything in this come out of Brill’s stores? Nothing off Zant?”

I’m not even offended anymore. At least this time he didn’t ask if I’m sure it’s vegetarian.

Pero his logic fails me here. Brill’s a gray trader who buys things from all over the galaxy. Who knows where the stuff in his stores comes from? I shrug. “I didn’t bring anything on board.”

Gavin takes a bite, and his eyes shade towards blissful blue. I take the subtle compliment.

Brill runs his hand along the sleek hull. Zantites build beautiful ships, and this one has edging that looks like real gold. “Have you cracked into this thing yet?”

“Wal, su. He stripped it. Check out the engine.” Gavin finishes the abandt and turns. He bangs his fist against the edge of a hatch, and a long section of the ship’s side falls open. I know nada about ship engines, pero I can still tell that this mass of rust and disconnected cables doesn’t belong inside.

Brill groans. “He’s got a fast engine inside something that looks like a wreck. Great.”

“It is great,” Chestla says. She moves forward, leaning into the hatch, pulling on the rusted parts. Do Evevrons need tetanus shots? Ni idea. “If he had just tossed this engine instead of trying to hide it, we wouldn’t be able to tell what he’s driving now.” She pulls out her phone to snap a picture. Within about a minute, she’s got a holographic representation of the ship the engine belonged to popped up and spinning above her hand. Claro está, it is rendered with the optimism of a blue-book entry.

“Right.” Brill looks at Chestla appreciatively. “Now just imagine that it’s old and beat up.”

“I’ll check for sightings,” Gavin says, at the same time Chestla – who speaks more rapidly – says, “I can crack through to look for customs hits showing records of entry.”

I sigh. What am I supposed to do? I’m the one who wanted to go looking for Kaliel, pero I might as well have stayed on Brill’s ship and dried the dishes.

There’s a loud hiss overhead, and when I look up, a saucer’s arcing down out of the sky.

“Perfect,” Brill says. “Tyson’s here.”

Which means that in just a minute, every Galactacop on this side of the galaxy is going to have our same lead. Only, Chestla leans back into the engine hatch and rips something out of it. The piece is big in her hands. She points out a logo for a brand name I can’t read, followed by Sraksian-style numbers. “This will help us keep ahead.”

“Tyson? Didn’t that guy bite you once?” Gavin asks.

I nod. “We’re friends now.”

“We have to go now,” Chestla says, gesturing towards Brill’s ship with her chin.

“Wal,” Brill and Gavin say at the same time.

Oye! Am I really the only one feeling weird about taking the part with the engine numbers, so Tyson can’t make the same logic leap Chestla did? It’s tampering with evidence. Claro está, we’ve made a bet with the cops. I guess that changes the rules, no?

Gavin points towards his ship. It’s almost the same design as Brill’s. “Send me a spoof of your signature, then when we both take off, he’ll have a hard time figuring out who to follow.”

“Thanks, su.” Brill gives his friend a close-fisted salute. “True heart and safe journey until we meet again.”

Gavin returns the gesture, pero with a troubled frown. “Don’t act like we’re not going to talk, su. I’ll have information for you before you even have time to miss me.”

Brill shrugs. “Just wanted you to know how much I appreciate the help.”

“This is getting heavy,” Chestla says.

“Hanstral.” Sorry. Brill dashes around her to unlock the door. Chestla bounds inside and dumps the metal piece in the middle of the floor.

I rush to follow. We’re inside – and only mildly choking on fish-fumes – by the time Tyson’s saucer touches dirt planetside. He comes running towards us just as Brill punches the thrusters, and we’re taking off straight up, while he’s standing there, shaking a fist at us.

“Why’s he mad, mi vida?”

“He knows we took something. If he’s not going to honor the spirit of the bet, he could arrest us for stealing evidence.”

Tyson has to choose between our ship and Gavin’s, and for once he must have chosen wrong, because nothing is showing up on our sensors. A little while later, my handheld rings again, from where Brill left it up on the console panel. I assume it’s Tyson. I move to get it, pero Brill beats me there.

“It’s probably for me, Babe. I gave some of my contacts this number.”

I turn back to Chestla, pero her phone dings off an alert, too. She looks up at me, excitement glinting in her slit-pupiled eyes. “Kaliel just pawned a couple of pieces off his trashed ship.”

“You know this how?” I lean in, looking at the display, which is showing a flat list of numbers and letters. The numbers are the only things I can read.

“If it’s a legit shop, Babe, the numbers have to be registered. Part of the Galactacop initiatives to stop space piracy.” Brill’s still on my phone, trying to follow both conversations. He gives up and hangs up. “Since Kaliel’s ship’s not stolen, it’s not going to ping as a bad sale.”

Chestla says, “I put a flag in the Galactacop database, so it would ping anything involving his name. But he didn’t take cash. Which means he used the credit to buy something else.”

“What was it?” I ask.

Chestla says, “They don’t have to report that part.”

My phone rings again. This time it is Tyson. “Tell Brill tat his friend Gavin is about to be charged wit impeding a police investigation.”

My heart sinks. Gavin won’t resist – part of the whole Krom take responsibility for their actions thing – so he’s not in any danger. Pero, he’s really good at getting information. It would be hard to do this without him.

I ask Tyson, “You have the whole police force as an information network, no? Do you think it’s fair to take one of my few pieces off the board?”

He sucks his mouth inside itself, thinking. No lo sé how he does that without hitting his folded-in fangs, pero Myska are immune to their own venom, which is bueno when you imagine a lounge of Myska kids having the usual playground fights.

Tyson sigh-hisses. “I guess I could let him go wit a warning. Te rest of his rap sheet is relatively harmless.”

“Oh?” I would love to know what is in Gavin’s file.

Tyson laughs. “Uh uh. Ask him yourself, if you want to know.”