“Fine,” Keller says. “I’m sorry, all right? I had nothing to do with that. It was all Jewel. If Suraya will just let me go, we can get under way, all nice and peaceful, and then you can take it up with him in person. That’s a rare honor, you know. He seldom participates in face-to-face meets anymore.”
“Too many people trying to kill him?” Hit asks, butter smooth. “Now, before I step back,” she adds, “I’m going to need your word as a gentleman that there will be no reprisals. I don’t want your boys coming in on me while I sleep.”
“Yeah, I want a guarantee of safe passage for me and my crew,” I add.
“Is your friend sick?” the goon beside Vel asks.
I shake my head quickly. “No. It’s just a skin condition.”
He really needs to molt.
“You have my word,” Keller growls.
Personally I don’t give two shits for his sworn vow, written in blood, but Hit seemed to want to hear it. In a feline motion, she drops back a few meters. Keller blots the sweat from his forehead with his forearm.
One of the goons says, “Can I—”
“No,” Keller snaps. “We have a deal, and we need this truce to hold, unless you want to die in your sleep.”
Damn, I’m glad Hit’s on our side. If she is. As it stands, I think we need to find out more about this Madame Kang.
Both his boys mutter, “Yes, boss,” as they head back up the ramp.
“Everyone on board before this Mary-sucking storm grounds us,” Keller adds.
Well, since he put it that way, we collect Dina and follow as fast as we can.
* * *
CHAPTER 41
Their pilot is good.
Despite adverse atmospheric factors, our departure goes smooth as s-silk. I’ve never been on a ship like this one. Instead of worn fittings, scarred and grimy conduits covered by mismatched panels, and ratty seats, everything looks brand-new. They went the extra mile and outfitted the public areas with a high-quality synth that gleams like mahogany.
With its burgundy s-leather chairs, the hub looks more like a swanky executive lounge than where the crew straps in for a jump. Even the safety harnesses manage to look decorative. At first I’m afraid to touch anything, and then I realize I don’t care because I’m not paying for it.
Dina drops down and puts her head back. “I’ll wait here for jump.”
I’m glad, because watching her struggle breaks my heart. We pause by our assigned rooms and drop off our stuff. Then the rest of us continue learning the lay of the land.
I notice how the light fixtures shine with gilt trim. And droids going about their business have an ultrasleek look, including the cleaning bots. This is a star-class vessel, sold to those with credit ratings I can’t even imagine.
It’s about time we got a break. I’m not sure this qualifies, but at least it’s a nice ride, and we’re passengers for a change. That implies a certain loss of control over our circumstances, but tired as I am, I’ll take it in trade.
While the pilot gets out of the atmosphere, Keller gives us a quick tour and introduces us to his boys. The blue-eyed one who wants to kill Hit is named Grubbs. His partner’s name is Boyle. They aren’t in the mood to chat, however, and disappear into the game room, our first stop. Huge wall-screen view panel, four terminals, rigged with virtual sims, and a variety of a comfortable chairs.
Keller’s guys mess with the equipment, and then the room reverberates with the distinctive sound of Real Killer. I guess that’s how enforcers relax. When they aren’t cracking heads, they sim it. For a moment I stand in the doorway watching the wall screen mimic the moves they make. That might be fun later.
Keller clears his throat. “Let me show you the rest.”
With a nod, I step back, realizing I’m holding up progress. I walk on, only half listening to Keller’s running commentary. Vel comments now and then. So does Jael. But it sounds muzzy to me, faraway and indistinct.
As we go along, nobody says much, probably eager to clean up and crash. We can’t do that until after jump, though, and we can’t power up the phase drive until we’re away from the planet’s gravitational pull.
I pause on the observation deck, watching Lachion recede. From this height, it’s a pale world except for splashes of blue where waters lie. March seems both infinitesimal and ephemeral to me now. Touching the ring on my left hand, like a talisman, doesn’t bring him back.
From this height, it’s like I imagined him. I ache in body and soul. Forgetting the others behind me, I lean my head against the screen for a moment, distorting the image. This isn’t the real Lachion, but an array of light that forms a likeness.
His kiss, his smile, my frozen tears in the Teresengi Basin—a dozen moments run behind my closed eyelids, fragments of how we were together. And aren’t anymore. I don’t know how I’ll bear it.
Vel comes up beside me and puts his hand on my shoulder. Don’t ask me how I know it’s him, but I’ve come to expect this kind of quiet, understated comfort from him. He doesn’t speak, just tilts his head toward the corridor.
Come away, Jax. There’s a new life waiting for you.
Maybe he doesn’t mean that, or even think it, but I ascribe those words to him as I suck in a deep breath. My eyes sting, but I blink the tears back. Sometimes giving up the old life is fucking hard.
I trail the others as we continue the tour. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a vessel so big. It must cost the annual per capita income of some small colonies to power it. Game room, observation deck, spa: This ship is like a roving resort.