I backed slowly into the cabin. The Patrol trooper followed, keeping his blaster leveled at my gut.
“What now?” Jasyn asked.
The trooper twitched the blaster at the table. “Sit. Keep your hands where we can see them.”
I sat, my hands on my head. Jasyn slid into the second chair.
Three more men in full battle dress forced the airlock, then crowded into the tiny scout ship. They checked the piles of unconscious bodies and removed the other gun.
The lead one lifted his face shield. HIs dark face wrinkled in confusion. “What in blazes happened here?”
I didn’t answer. Anything I said would probably land me in deeper trouble. We faced multiple criminal charges, at the very least. Keeping my mouth shut seemed prudent.
He talked silently on his voicecoder. The conversation dragged on.
“Take them back into the ship, one at a time,” the young soldier finally said. “Closest first and keep them separated. Captain wants to interview them before they talk to each other.”
Men and women in plain Patrol silver squeezed past the troopers guarding us. They dragged the third man’s unconscious form out first. When they moved Luagin, the leader whistled when he caught sight of Tayvis’ uniform.
“Sir, we have a situation here,” he said before he remembered to activate the subvocal circuit.
The others carried Tayvis through the airlock.
I got an armed escort to their ship. One of the troopers stepped forward motioning me to the airlock. The guard shoved me just as I got close. I lost my balance, falling forward into the tube connecting the ships. More armed Patrol personnel caught me at the other end, marching me into the Patrol cruiser.
My escort shuffled me along corridors lined with unmarked doors, up several levels to a different deck, and along even more halls. I’d never been on a battle cruiser before, but I guessed that I was on one now.
The guard opened a door into a small mess hall. He escorted me across the room, then pushed me onto a bench in front of a table.
“Keep your hands in sight.” He stepped back one pace, gun holstered but very prominent.
I put my hands on the table. We waited. And waited. I picked at my ragged nails.
I faced the corner of the room, the door at my back. My guard shifted his feet, coming to attention. The captain stepped past him and sat down across from me.
Dark hair with just a sprinkle of gray, skin tanned by years of space travel, he exuded mild curiosity as he set a palm scanner and pocket recorder on the table. He touched the recorder.
“This session is being recorded,” he said formally. He glanced at my borrowed uniform. “I know your name can’t be Simms. You’re the wrong gender, and he’s been listed as missing for over a century. Place your hand on the scanner plate. State your name, rank, and current deployment.” I flattened my right hand on the scanner. It glowed green for a moment. I took my hand back.
“My name is Dace. I’m not Patrol. My last job was a pilot on the Swan, a private family yacht. My registered employment before that was as captain of the Twinkle, a courier licensed to Belliff, Inc.”
He picked up the scanner, handing it to the guard. The captain did not look happy. “We’ll soon see if that checks out. Explain why you’re wearing a Patrol uniform. Impersonating an officer of the Patrol is punishable by at least five years hard labor.”
“Because my evening gown ripped. This was the only thing available.”
“Evening gown?” His fingers twitched.
I sighed, scrubbing one hand through my hair.
The captain tapped his fingers on the table, nails clicking a staccato rhythm.
“Let’s start with something easy. Who was on the ship with you? Identify them, please.”
“Jasyn Pai is a registered navigator, also with the Swan. Jerimon Pai is her brother. He was my copilot on the Twinkle.” I hesitated over the next name.
“And?” The fingers stilled. I glanced at the bars on his collar, silver for Patrol instead of gold for commercial, and wondered if I would ever pin bars to my collar or if I’d only be looking through them after this. The captain tapped his finger, waiting.
“Sector Commander Malcolm Tayvis.” I picked at a rough spot on a well-chewed nail. “He works for Commander Grant Lowell.”
He folded his hands, resting them on the table. “And the other men on the ship?”
“Stoak Luagin. I don’t know the others.”
“And what relation do you have to Stoak Luagin?”
“He and I were at the Academy together. He screwed up on a training flight and I had to call him on it. He blames me for being kicked out of the pilot’s course.” I twisted my fingers together. The captain waited in stony silence. The recorder ticked the seconds.
“The ship broke down. Luagin caught our distress beacon and came to salvage the ship. He was going to kill us, eventually, then sell the ship as scrap.” I stared at the captain’s folded hands, waiting for some kind of signal. “We didn’t cooperate with Luagin’s plans. Your men broke in at the end of it.”
“That explains the piles of bodies.” Another officer in silver uniform approached the table, bending low to whisper to the captain.
The captain unfolded his hands. “Your identity has been confirmed. You are also under arrest for charges too numerous to list. You are confined to quarters, since the brig is full.” He turned to the guard. “Ensign, clear out a single cabin and put Dace in it.” He watched me squirm while the guard talked into his voicecoder. “There are no locks on the door, but you have nowhere to go on this ship. You will remain in your cabin or I will lock you in the brig with the others.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I can explain.”
He tapped the recorder. “You will make a full statement as soon as our ship’s counsel is available. This recording is a preliminary report only.” He took the recorder and left.
My guard held out a set of force cuffs. It was protocol. I lifted my wrists. The wires had cut into them. Blood still seeped from the deeper cuts. The guard hooked his cuffs back onto his belt.
“You aren’t stupid enough to try to fight or run, are you?” He sounded almost friendly.
“Run where? I’m on a battleship and outnumbered at least two hundred to one.”
“Don’t give me any trouble, and I won’t put cuffs on.”
He took my arm and marched me out of the mess hall to my temporary prison cell.
The tiny cubbyhole was barely bigger than a broom closet, with a single bunk and no other furniture. A harried med tech crowded in. He treated the superficial cuts on my wrists, then hurried away. My guard grunted, then took a guard stance in front of the open door.
I lay on the bunk, staring at the ceiling.
I’d bent and broken quite a few regulations running from Belliff and the Sessimoniss. I’d lose my pilot’s license at the very least. Each planet would have their own list of charges. Disruption of trade, piracy, public nuisance–whatever they could find to throw at me. The fines would run into thousands of credits. All I could offer for a defense was personal stupidity.
I closed my eyes. Sessimoniss memories washed through my head, disconnected but still vivid images I didn’t want to explore.
My guard brought a meal, breakfast, set it on the bunk, then left me alone. The door stayed open.
I paced the room, three steps each way, next to the bunk.
If criminal charges weren’t enough trouble, I still had to figure out what to do with Jerimon and Tayvis. I remembered Tayvis kissing me, feeling my face flush with heat. Maybe the Eggstone had been right. He was jealous of Jerimon.
That thought made me laugh. Fighting over me? How ridiculous. Why had Tayvis followed me? He’d been behind me since Viya. Why had Grant Lowell let me go on Tebros when he must have known Tayvis was chasing me? What game was he playing? Was Tayvis following Lowell’s orders when he pushed his way into the Sessimoniss raiding party? He had to have ulterior motives. He’d abandoned his command to be kidnapped with me.
Or was Tayvis doing Lowell’s bidding the whole time? Had he meant his kiss after all?
I paced and fretted until after lunch, when the ship counsellor came to visit.
She was older, square and blonde and homely. Her eyes were like blue marbles. She slapped a recorder onto the bunk then plopped next to it.
“Start talking. Tell me everything.”
“Starting when?”
She riffled a sheaf of papers at least an inch thick. “Your charges. The earliest was filed by Tebros. Followed shortly by Belliff, Viya Station, then Tebros again. Start there. What were you doing? Who were you working for? Why? All the usual questions.”
“Can I see the list?”
She squinted suspiciously, but according to Imperial law, she had to hand them over. I silently thanked the Academy professors who had beaten a general appreciation of law into my head.
I started at the top of the first page, answered each charge, in order, explaining each instance. I only bent the truth a little, especially when it came to leaving Viya Station with Leon and his toy gun.
By the time they delivered dinner, I’d completed two thirds of the stack. The ship counsel lounged on my bunk, eyes half closed, while I talked. I glanced at the dinner tray and kept talking.
When I finally finished, she collected the papers and her recorder without a word.
I ate, slept, ate, thought, and generally wasted time for another day.
Halfway through the third day, Tayvis came to see me. He wore a silver uniform with the sector commander clusters on his collar.
“They didn’t lock you up with the rest of the riffraff?” I asked.
“I’m not the one with the long rap sheet.” He nudged my foot. “Move over and let me sit.” I shifted my feet, scooting to sit against the wall. I couldn’t help remembering his kiss.
My face flushed, my collar felt too tight. “So use your rank and get me out of here.”
“I’m already pushing my luck coming to talk to you. Fraternizing with criminal elements, I think they call it. I could lose a few clusters over that.”
“I’ll get out of it somehow.” I wished I sounded more convincing.
Looking deathly serious, he shifted his weight on the narrow bunk. “There is a way to get every charge dropped.”
I frowned. “Why were you following me? I’ve been thinking.”
“It’s dangerous to do that.”
“You were right behind me, since Viya Station. Why?”
He looked away, his face a cold mask. “Orders.”
“Whose? Commander Lowell’s?”
“Yes. You can get out of this, Dace. All you have to do is sign enlistment papers.”
“Get out.” It stung, knowing I was just an assignment, orders to follow.
“One assignment. Lowell promised only one.”
“It’s one too many.” I pulled my knees close and wrapped my arms around them. How could Tayvis do this to me?
“He wants you to go to Tivor.” Tayvis’s voice had gone flat, dead.
“Get out, Tayvis. I don’t want anything to do with the Patrol. Now or ever. Go away and don’t ever come back.”
His cheek twitched.
“You work for Lowell. I don’t want to see you again. Ever.” I buried my head against my knees. How could he do this to me? My imagination conjured Lowell padding the listed charges, then sending Tayvis to wave a get-off-free card. Just join the Patrol, which meant signing away everything I’d been fighting for since I escaped Tivor.
“Just agree, Dace. Go to Tivor for a few weeks, and he’ll never bother you again.”
The offer tempted me, which made it worse.
“I won’t go back to Tivor unless I’m dead. Go away.”
He stood. The door slid open.
“He gave me a direct order, Dace.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Tayvis. Just go away and don’t ever come back. You work for Lowell.” I looked up. His face reflected nothing. “He sent you to recruit me. Is that why you kissed me? Because you knew I couldn’t resist?”
He turned abruptly and left. The door slid shut.
I hated myself, but I would have hated myself more if I’d given in. I would never join the Patrol. I’d lose my freedom, a price I couldn’t pay, even if it meant losing Tayvis. I sat on the bunk, knees drawn close, and just ached inside.
I couldn’t eat when they brought dinner. For the first time in my life, I was too upset and hurt to be hungry.
The tears finally came, after the lights were out for the night. I curled in a ball on the bunk and let them run, slow and quiet, until I fell asleep.
We shifted into normal space early in the morning. Nobody brought breakfast. I didn’t care, I couldn’t make myself care.
I’d pulled myself together enough to wash my face by the time my guard came to fetch me. I still wore the exploration blue uniform, I hadn’t been given anything else. This time he locked the cuffs around my wrists.
He escorted me through the ship to the airlock where Jerimon and Jasyn waited. I didn’t see any sign of Luagin or his crew. Or Tayvis.
“What’s wrong?” Jasyn asked when we stepped into the airlock.
I shook my head at the same time our guard ordered us quiet.
We stepped into the Patrol docking bay of Viya Station. A squad of Enforcers marched Luagin and his crew into the station ahead of us. The captain of the ship waited with another escort of Enforcers. He shook his head at the three of us.
“You are either the biggest liars I’ve ever met, or—I don’t know what you are. I’ve never heard such an incredible story in my life.” He signed us over to the Enforcer squad captain. “Good luck.”
The Enforcers checked our cuffs. I winced when they tightened mine. They herded us along the curve of the dock.
The station commander stood in the middle of the bay, watching us, surrounded by a group of high officials with enough braid and medals to look like ornaments. Tayvis watched with them. His plain black stuck out like a dark hole in the middle of a flower patch. I looked away, lifting my chin. I didn’t want his sympathy or his offer, because I knew I couldn’t resist it a second time.
They loaded us into a fast Messenger-class cruiser. Our guards escorted us to a small cabin, took off the cuffs, then locked the door on their way out. Jasyn waited until the lock clicked.
“What do you know that we don’t?”
“Nothing.” I slumped on a bunk. “What did they do to you?”
“The ships counsel came and recorded my explanations. Then they ignored me.”
“And?” She planted fists on her hips.
Jerimon leaned against the wall, eyebrows raised. “Well, Dace?”
“Go away, Jerimon.”
“I don’t think they’d let me.” He crossed his legs, one ankle draped over the other. I dropped an arm over my face.
“It’s Tayvis, isn’t it,” Jasyn said.
I closed my eyes, wishing I were somewhere else. Jasyn wasn’t going to give up until I gave her an answer.
“He tried to recruit me. He followed me on Lowell’s orders. I told him to go away.”
“Dace, you’re an idiot.”
I opened one eye.
“And he’s just as dumb to listen to you.” She sat cross-legged on the end of the bunk.
Jerimon grinned.
I closed my eyes and pretended he didn’t exist.
We landed a day later. Our escort wasted no time marching us out of the ship and into bright, blinding sunlight. I recognized the wide field and hot summer of Tebros.
We marched to a cluster of buildings at the far edge. The Patrol shield dominated the side of the biggest one. Our escort took us to one side, into an office building. The receptionist at the front desk gave us a blank stare. The Enforcers didn’t bother talking to him.
We were taken back to a long dim hallway. They put us in different rooms.
I sat on the single rickety chair in the room; the chair protested. The Enforcer stood by the door and waited. I looked out a window dim with dust and watched weeds grow along the fence bordering the landing field. The air vent creaked like wheezy breathing. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
The door finally opened, admitting the last person I wanted to ever see.
“Hello, Dace,” said Commander Grant Lowell. “Have a nice trip?”
I looked out the window.
He waited a long moment.
“I have an offer for you,” he said.
“I’m not interested,” I answered, refusing to meet his gaze.
“These criminal charges will get you locked away for at least ten years. The civil ones will add another five or ten more. Is that really what you want?”
“I’m not signing up. I’m not joining the Patrol. Ever.”
“You’ve made that quite clear. I have a different offer.” He crossed the room to the window, tapping his hands together behind his back.
“Well?”
He smiled, the kind of smile a sandcat gives right before it eats you. “All criminal charges will be dropped.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Let the psych techs dig up everything you know about the Sessimoniss. Tell us everything, record everything. Your friends have already agreed.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch. We’ve been trying to establish relations with the Sessimoniss for years. That uniform you’re wearing,” he glanced at the name tag, “belonged to a man whose primary mission was to find their homeworld and make contact with them. More than the casual trade contacts which happen all too rarely. Simms apparently found it.”
“It’s not their homeworld,” I said before I could stop myself.
His predatory smile would have done any large carnivore proud. “See how easy this is going to be?”