I should be congratulating myself on a successful mission: datapad and gear rescued, ego mostly intact. Instead, I hear Talie’s words on repeat: They’ll forget you when you’re gone.
That means she’ll forget me when I’m gone. And why wouldn’t she? I’m just some guy who manipulated her into hiding him and then wedged his way into her trapeze act. Not exactly the hallmarks of relationship material.
Wait, relationship?
Her ruse must be getting to me because the thought of being promised to Talie isn’t as shocking, or as impossible, as I once thought.
Danger! Danger! My internal warning system screams at me to rein it in.
Food. That’s what I need. Maybe they’ll have muffins at dinner this time.
I take the trav-tube to the galley and grab a bowl of what I hope is Drawxian chowder, a spicy soup made with chunks of corcha fish. I’m shocked they have it here, seeing as the taste is an acquired one.
“I thought you might like that, Renner.” I look up over my steaming bowl and see a bright smile and green eyes framed by thick lashes.
“Uh, thanks?”
The girl’s grin broadens. “Anything you want, just let me know.”
I’m about to mention muffins when Freyda steps up. “I think he’s got more than he needs.”
The girl winks, and I move down the line, piling on bread and odd-looking fruit I’ve never tried before.
“Successful practice today?” Freyda asks. She’s nearly my height, and her permanently black lips and eyelids intrigue me.
“I’m learning. We’ll leave it at that.”
“Drop my friend when there’s no net, and you’ll regret it, Fly Boy.”
How is that nickname sticking? It makes me feel like an insect or something.
“You hear me? Or else you’ll be sent off this ship so fast you’ll—”
“Is that the premier in you talking?”
“What?” Freyda’s dark-lidded gaze flashes, incredulous.
“You’re Meloran and,” I look at her belt, “a premier by the looks of it. But we’re not on Meloran and, the last I heard, you aren’t the captain.”
Her eyes narrow, the darkness of the black on her lids adding to the effect. “I may not be the captain, but I have sway, Fly B—”
“Please don’t call me that. And I have no doubt you’re important. I just don’t take kindly to threats.”
We stand there, caught in a stare-off. Finally, I break the silence. “What are you doing in the circus?”
“The Phenomena takes all kinds, clearly.” Her words land as she bypasses me on her way to Delmar.
Great. Looks like I’m making friends.
I wonder where Talie is but push the thought away. I can’t afford to be distracted by her. I dig into my soup, enjoying the spice mirrored by the salty tang of seafood. It makes me miss home but not my life in the palace.
I miss the early mornings when mist hangs thick and heavy in the air. And I miss the meadows that stretch out past the hut my family lived in. The scent of earth and grain pungent on my early morning runs in the foothills of the Solax Mountains.
I don’t miss the constant vigilance of my job or the incessant worry. One mistake could cost not only the life of my charge but my life as well.
Laugher erupts across the dining room, and I see Pon standing on tiptoes doing an impression of someone. Mika merely shakes his head, but Shea and Lena goad her on. Leith only looks interested in his datapad, which reminds me I need to get below deck and to privacy.
I shovel the rest of my soup down, enjoying the burning sensation as the spice’s full heat hits me, and then stand. Pushing the last bite of a roll into my mouth, I deposit my tray at the counter and head out.
They watch me go, but I ignore them. What Talie hinted at is true—my days with the circus are numbered, and I need to initiate the next phase of my plan soon.
The trav-tube deposits me at the stalls, and I pause to scratch Scar’s forehead. He’s become fond of me and even let me ride him through the holo that morning. I tried not to take too much pleasure in Gemma’s shocked response when I told her, but a boy can only be so humble.
“You’re my friend, aren’t you, Scar?”
The puox presses harder against my touch and makes a guttural sigh of contentment. I don’t know how anyone could be afraid of the six-legged creature with brown tufts of fur. Then again, there are the teeth to consider…
I give him one more pat, then turn toward my berth, ducking when he tries to nip me to come back. “I’d like to keep all of my limbs, thank you.”
The animal gives a sheepish look, and I rush to my room. I’ve got to make contact, which also means I need to create a secure channel. Propping myself on the edge of my bed, I pull down the computer interface console. It’s an awkward setup and proves just how small this room is, but it’ll work. It has to. Then I take out the things I reclaimed from Talie’s closet.
The mere thought of her tempts me to relive our time sparring. It was one of the best workouts I’ve gotten in a long time and betrays the fact Talie has way more training than she let on. The image of her standing there with sweat glistening as she took on a fighting stance arrests my thoughts, but my datapad flashes to life, and the picture emblazoned there draws my mind back to reality.
Get your head out of the stars and back into the game.
But this is no game.
Lè Fayrin Tai looks back at me. Her sweet smile helps me redouble my focus. Sure, it’s fun training with Talie, and yes, I find her more than a little distracting, but I’m good at walking a fine line between flirtation and deception. I have to be. The success of my mission depends on it.
I unlock the datapad with my touch and select a cord that will connect it directly to what acts as a charging port but will also convey information. Then I pull out the keyboard every berth comes with. It’s meant for access to shipboard information, entertainment, and basic communications, but I need more.
My fingers hover over the board, and I roll my shoulders, regretting it the next instant. I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed. It makes me remember the feel of Talie’s strong, sure grip in mine. The look of surprised pleasure when I made the catch. Then the worrisome sense of responsibility knowing I held her life securely in my hands as we swung back and forth.
She’s a means to an end, Renner.
Now the voice in my head is Lè Fayrin’s. I sense the inflection her high-born status lends her words and the commanding way she keeps me on task.
Right. Time to go invisible.
I use my datapad’s built in sec-system to cover my tracks, keeping my activity from registering on the ship-wide system. It was all built in by my gearhead back on Drawx. Once that’s done, I access my private folder and find a message from Lè Fayrin.
I should have accessed this days ago, but she knew the risks.
My response is one word.
She’ll either understand and appreciate my brevity or be frustrated with the lack of information.
Lè Fayrin is disadvantaged by her emotions. I’ve known her long enough to pinpoint that flaw, but there have been times where those very emotions have aided her in ways I never would have understood. It’s the reason her loyalties lie where they do and the very reason I’m here now.
She believes in something greater than what greed can gain, and I’m afraid that will put a target on her back if it hasn’t already. I’m also afraid of what will happen to her if I’m not there.
Only deal in realities, Renner. They are the only things you can rely on.
Cold words from a cold man—the captain of my former guard—but truth, nonetheless.
Navigating away from her message with decisiveness, I run a security protocol on all network traffic, helped again by built-in systems in my small but mighty datapad.
Things are going well when my screen flashes with a red alert:
Search Results: 1.6T items found
I blink, and nausea coils through my stomach. This is not good.
Clicking on the top result, I flinch when my face fills the screen. It’s my service image from years ago, so my hair is trimmed short, and I’m wearing a black uniform with the royal seal emblazoned above my heart. A symbol that the Drawxian crown is my highest authority and has my deepest devotion. I absentmindedly rub at the familiar spot.
Below it, my formal name in bold, flashing text: Lt. Byrenn Car-Tai, Wanted Criminal.
The sickness swells. I was born Byrenn, but my mother never called me anything but Renner. Then, when I joined the service of the king, my last name was cut and pasted to that of the royal line like every other royal guard. It’s supposed to be a reminder of the debt we owe to the crown. To me, it felt more like losing my identity.
<<WARNING: SYSTEM DETECTION IMMINENT>>
I yank the datapad from the cord attachment. What in the Verse—
“That your picture, boy?”
I jump from my seat into a fighting stance before I catch myself. Maxon is standing in front of my door—my closed door—with a bucket of slop in one hand and a knife in the other.
“I—what?” How did he get in here without my knowledge? I should never be so distracted I don’t hear a door open.
“I can smell a lie better than two heads on an iduos, boy.” Maxon takes a step and points the knife in my direction. “Don’t mess with me.”
“Yes.” I meet his gaze, unflinching. I know from both his body language and the way his eyes never leave mine that he won’t accept anything less than the truth. “It’s me.”
“What’d you do? Kill somebody?”
I flinch. What I’ve had to do in the name of the crown and to protect Lè Fayrin is none of his business, but I know he’s not asking about that.
“No. I deserted my post with the royal guard.” It’s true, though not even close to the whole truth.
“And Talie knows?”
“Yes.” She knows the parts she needs to.
“Don’t know what my girl sees in you or why she’d protect you,” Maxon’s head tilts to the side, “but as long as she’s got your back, so do I.”
It’s the last thing I’d expect from him. His duty isn’t to me. It’s to the circus, but as I consider him, I wonder if that’s completely true. Is there more I’m not seeing here? Some connection beyond fellow performers?
I open my mouth to ask, but he disappears—right through the wall.
Not only am I galaxy-wanted, I’m living on a floor with a man who can walk through walls. This is something out of my worst nightmare.
“Oh, and,” Maxon pops his head through the wall, his smile wider than a supernova. “Stalls five and six need cleaning.”
I have so many questions, but he disappears, and my chance to ask is gone.
I change back into my work onesuit with deliberate slowness. I don’t mind the menial task of cleaning out stalls, knowing it will give me time to process this new information. To consider all my options. What I don’t like is the lack of privacy I’m certain to face now.
It seems living under a holomask on the stage of a circus might be the best place to hide. And that means convincing Talie her act is better with me than without. At least until l can get to the type of galaxy-wide port I need.
If I can charm a puox, surely I can charm a circus girl. Right?