Abelardus’s face appeared on the small monitor nestled into the console. Alisa did not tie in her netdisc to get a holodisplay this time. This would be harder for someone looking through the window behind them to see.
“I wonder what kinds of vids he orders,” Mica said.
“If it’s romances involving tools and engines, would you fall in love?”
“I might fall into his bed. He’s pretty.”
“I thought muscular men weren’t your type.”
“I can make an exception if they’re pretty. Look at those cheekbones. And that perfect skin. And all that hair. Plenty to grab onto.” Mica offered a wicked grin.
“Uh huh.” Alisa imagined sex with two people with long hair and wagered it would involve even more hair getting caught under body parts. “You’re going to make Yumi jealous if you drool openly on him.”
“Sadly, I keep seeing Yumi chatting with Beck. I think he’s winning her over with his cooking.”
“Maybe you should show some interest in her hobbies.”
“I tried meditating with her. It was boring.”
“What about the chickens? Do you like animals? Birds?”
“Absolutely. They taste excellent.”
“Maybe the mushrooms and whatever else she’s growing in her cabin. Have you gone in to take a look?” Alisa hit play on the message, interrupting the conversation.
“Durant,” Abelardus said—the recording date was seven days earlier, the day they had taken off from Arkadius. “Have you been kidnapping little girls? Naidoo is concerned for your soul, and the mother wants her kid back. Let me know what you’re doing out there and if you’re still on Cleon. Your last message was cryptic. Mom’s worried about you. Out.”
Alisa dropped her chin to her fist. She had almost expected to find that Abelardus either hadn’t commed his brother or hadn’t inquired about Jelena. That he had actually done what he’d said he had done left her feeling nonplussed. Maybe because she preferred thinking of him as a jerk and being irritated with him. This did not necessarily make him less of a jerk, but it left her less irritated with him.
“He has a mother, huh?” Mica asked. “I suppose that’s usually how it works, but with some people, it’s hard to imagine them having parents. Like your cyborg. You kind of just imagine that he was always this killing machine, and that’s how it was.”
Since Alisa now knew Leonidas’s story and how he had signed up for the cyborg program to help his mother, she had no trouble imagining him as a young man or even a boy, before he had become a “killing machine.” She kept the thought to herself. If Leonidas wanted other people to know about his past, he could tell them.
“There aren’t any return messages,” Alisa said, disappointed.
She might not have been able to listen to them, but it would have been nice to know that Durant was in communication with Abelardus. He—and Jelena—would seem closer then, more attainable. The implication that Durant was missing and that his family did not know why worried her.
Another message flashed into existence at the top of her queue. According to the time stamp, it had just been sent. She did not hesitate to open it.
“Durant,” Abelardus said, his face appearing on the monitor again, “talk to me. Are you getting my messages? Are you in trouble, or just ignoring me? Look, we need to talk. I won’t judge you for backing the imperials and not giving up on them, even when they’ve been smashed. There’s some interesting stuff going on. People are hunting for the Staff of Lore, and it looks like someone might actually find it this time. I’ll give you more details if you give me some details on what you’re up to. Why’d you take that girl on Perun? I’m on the ship with the mother—did I mention that? I just found out she has Starseer genes. I suppose that stands to reason, if the girl’s got them, but she thought they only came from the father. The girl might have a lot of potential with two parents of Kirian descent—you know how rare it is for offspring to come out of those unions. But maybe you already knew that, eh? When you picked that girl? What are your plans? The mother could be a part of them. That would be the right thing to do. Though you might have to brainwash her into going along with whatever your plans are, especially if they have to do with the empire. Damn it, Durant, I don’t know what you’re up to, but you’re missing out by not answering my messages.”
Abelardus signed off, his face disappearing and the display returning to a list of messages. Alisa sat back in her chair, digesting the information—and shivering inside at the idea of some Starseer wanting to brainwash her. She already knew they could do that in the short term, such as to suggest that flying up to visit an enemy ship was a good idea, but could they make brainwashing stick long-term? Did she want to know?
“I think he likes you,” Mica said.
“What?” Alisa had forgotten she was there.
“Usually, when men talk about doing the right thing for a woman, they mean doing the thing that’s going to allow them to jump into her bed.”
Alisa turned off the display, leaving the other messages for later snooping. “You seem to have sex on your mind a lot.”
“It’s been months since I got any. What can I say? I’m horny.”
Months. It had been more than a year since Alisa had been home on leave and seen Jonah in the flesh. If she had known that would be the last time she ever saw him… She rubbed her eyes, thinking of the last night they had spent together. She wished she had realized how special it was and enjoyed it more, appreciated him more. She wished she had told him how much she appreciated him.
“Did you see the miscreants on Dustor?” Mica went on. “Half of them didn’t have teeth, and none of them had money. Since I’ve been on this rusty boat, you haven’t put in to any stations for long enough for us to have some personal time. Clearly, I need to redouble my efforts with my options here. Chickens? Really? You think that’s the way to a woman’s heart?”
“That or the herbs and mushrooms,” Alisa said, only half listening. “Just don’t let yourself get too involved in scheming your campaign. I need your mind working if any emergencies come up.”
“My mind always works.”
A beep came from the comm, and Alisa winced. She expected that to be Abelardus demanding to know why she was listening to his messages. But it wasn’t. The signal was coming from outside the ship.
She leaned forward and tapped the button to play the message as she also hunted for the source.
“…This has been an automated warning message. You will not receive additional warnings. Ignore at your own peril. Closed area identified via an attached data file. Repeat. This is an Alliance Transmit Buoy delivering a message authorized by First Governor Ingvar Vestergaard of the Tri-Sun Alliance. This area has been quarantined due to a medical emergency. All ships must reroute to avoid the affected area. The quarantine will be strictly enforced, and any vessels breaching the closed area may be disabled or destroyed in order to ensure the safety and wellness of the rest of the system. I repeat, all ships must reroute. Failure to do so could result in extreme measures. This has been an automated warning message. You—”
Alisa stopped it before it could repeat. She grabbed the data file that had arrived with the verbal warning and opened it on the screen.
“That’s ominous,” Mica said.
“Yeah. Especially since Leonidas’s coordinates are in the middle of the closed area.” Alisa pointed at the star map that had been sent.
“How much do you want to bet that the ship full of radiation has something to do with all this?”
“I certainly wouldn’t bet against that possibility.”
Alisa leaned back in her seat again, considering their options. Over on the sensor display, she could now see the buoy that had sent the message. It was almost dead ahead. The Alliance had likely sprinkled buoys all over the perimeter of their closed-off area. Their quarantined area. An interesting word choice. To Alisa’s mind, it implied a virus or bacterial emergency rather than a radiation leak, but sh
e supposed she could see the word being used for both.
“I vote for obeying the warning and not going in,” Mica said. “Just in case you’re taking votes and listening to pragmatism today.”
“I’d like to. There’s nothing for me at those coordinates. I—”
A thunk sounded as someone knocked on the hatch to NavCom. Alisa turned, wishing she had locked it. Abelardus’s long, thin braids were visible through the window.
Alisa draped her arm over the back of the chair and waited expectantly. She wasn’t surprised he had shown up, but she did not know if he had somehow sensed the buoy warning coming in or if he had been sifting through her thoughts and knew she had been reading his comm messages.
Abelardus walked in, considered her briefly, then gazed at the view screen. The forward camera feed was displaying on it, but nothing except stars was visible out there yet. He would have to look at the sensor display to eyeball the buoy.
“Got lonely by yourself in your cabin, huh?” Alisa asked.
“Incredibly so,” he said. “The ship received a message.”
“I believe the correct term is warning. In about a half hour, I’ll have to turn us onto a new course, or we’ll be violating a quarantine that the Alliance set up. The coordinates you all are eager to explore are inside of the quarantined area. I figure we can go to Cleon Moon and look for your brother first, and then come back here in a week or two. Maybe the quarantine will have been lifted.”
It sounded perfectly reasonable to her, but she was not surprised that Abelardus started shaking his head before she finished speaking.
“We can’t delay,” Abelardus said.
“Who’s talking about delays?” came Alejandro’s voice from the corridor.
Alisa sighed toward Mica. “I can understand how a Starseer would know when we’ve received a message or something interesting is going on, but how does a simple doctor always know to show up at the right time?” Or maybe it was the wrong time.
“Maybe his orb tells him,” Mica said.
“They do have a close relationship.”
“They probably watch romance vids together.”
“Ew.”
Abelardus stepped aside to let Alejandro walk in, a scowl on his face. “What delay?”
Leonidas came into view behind him, stopping in the corridor since there wasn’t room for anyone else to squeeze into NavCom. As it was, Alisa felt claustrophobic. She also felt that large, powerful men were about to force her into making a foolish choice.
“Your coordinates are quarantined,” Alisa said tersely, not wanting to explain everything again.
“By whom?” Alejandro asked.
“The Alliance.” Abelardus smirked at him, as if pleased by the development. That was odd. He had claimed to be an Alliance supporter, but wouldn’t he still object to the military getting their hands on the special staff first? Surely, he would prefer that it return to Starseer hands. Alisa had assumed that was why Lady Naidoo had sent him along. Maybe he was just pleased to see Alejandro’s plans thwarted. He certainly seemed to take pleasure in tormenting Leonidas.
“How would the Alliance have learned about the coordinates that we figured out?” Alejandro asked, his voice hard. His gaze landed on Alisa.
Hells, she wasn’t the one smirking at him. “Why do you always look at me? Why do you think I care about your orb quest? I have my own mission, and it has nothing to do with artifact hunts.”
“You would be pleased to see us fail,” Alejandro said, “and for the staff to fall into the hands of the Alliance.”
“Based on what I’ve heard, I don’t think that staff should be in anybody’s hands.”
“That’s not your decision to make, freighter captain.”
Alisa gave him the twisted fingers. She refused to be cowed or dismissed, as if being a retired doctor was so much more important than running cargo. People needed cargo. They didn’t need retired bullies.
Leonidas eased closer, his broad form filling the hatchway. He stood right behind Alejandro and must have bumped him, because Alejandro looked back. Abelardus noticed Leonidas, and his smirk turned into a lip curl.
“I’m not taking us into a quarantined area,” Alisa said. “Here, listen to the message, especially the part about ships being disabled or destroyed if they’re found in the zone.”
She played it for them, standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the console as she did so.
“That’s a huge amount of space,” Alejandro said at the end. “The Alliance doesn’t have ships to patrol anything a tenth of that size. The odds of them finding us and destroying anything are minuscule.”
“They have sensors and might even have set up a sensor grid in there with their buoys,” Alisa said. “Besides, they wouldn’t need to patrol the whole area. If they know about the coordinates, they could have their ships waiting right there.”
“Why are you sure they know about the coordinates?” Alejandro growled. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything. But clearly people are aware of them. That pilgrim ship went right through them. Maybe you should argue with our newest passenger instead of with me,” Alisa said, waving at Abelardus. “He’s the one who could telepathically broadcast the coordinates to the entire system.”
“My range isn’t quite that large,” Abelardus said.
Alejandro studied him, but he did not start an argument. Instead, he asked, “Can you see inside her mind? See if she’s telling the truth?”
Alisa clenched a fist. The last thing she needed was for those two to become allies and start working together.
“Of course,” Abelardus said brightly. “I like spending time in her head. She’s feisty.”
“I may vomit again,” Mica grumbled.
Leonidas glared at Abelardus.
Alisa also felt like throwing up. Perhaps on Abelardus’s boots. Feisty. Please.
He grinned over at her.
“Is she telling the truth?” Alejandro asked again. Apparently, her feistiness did not interest him.
“She hasn’t been in contact with anyone from the Alliance since the battle above our temple,” Abelardus said, sounding certain.
It was the truth, but his certainty and the prompt way he answered disturbed Alisa. Had he searched through her thoughts that quickly? Or had he been monitoring them since they left? That would be creepy, for more reasons than one. She wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible and almost regretted that the quarantine might delay things.
Or you could just get used to having me around, Abelardus spoke into her mind. I’m not that bad. I’m handy. I can get things off high shelves for you, if not with my hands, then with my mind.
Get out of my head.
“Then who blabbed?” Leonidas asked, speaking for the first time. “Neither the doctor nor I told the coordinates to anyone outside of this ship. In fact, Alisa is the only one I gave them to. Isn’t it odd that you know all about them, Abelardus?”
“You call her Alisa?” Abelardus asked.
Leonidas hesitated. “She asked me to.”
May I call you Alisa? Abelardus asked into her mind, as if he hadn’t done it already. Maybe he knew that he didn’t have permission and that it irritated her.
No.
Why couldn’t he take a hint and keep out of her thoughts? He was so damned brazen about his intrusion, too, giving no hint that he considered forcing his way into a person’s mind rude—or criminal.
A strange, wistful expression crossed his face.
“Answer the question, Abelardus.” Leonidas nudged Alejandro aside so that he could ease into the cabin, even though there wasn’t room for it. He stood very close to Abelardus, who merely looked back at him, showing no sign of intimidation.
Alisa hoped they did not end up in a physical—or mental—fight. She did not want bodies flung into her consoles, where equipment might be broken. Nor did she want people broken.
“You think I’m going to let the empire have the S
taff of Lore, mech? Are you truly that stupid? Both of you?” Abelardus looked back and forth from Leonidas to Alejandro.
Both men looked like they wanted to strangle him. Leonidas’s fingers twitched, as if he was seriously considering it.
“What are the odds of me making it out of here to use the lav without getting smashed?” Mica asked Alisa.
“I don’t know, but while they’re posturing at each other, I’m changing our course,” Alisa said. “I have no intention of getting destroyed by an Alliance ship because we crossed into their quarantined area.”
She shifted toward the controls, though she left her head turned enough to keep Alejandro and Abelardus in her peripheral vision. It made her back itch to have them behind her.
Abelardus reached for her shoulder. “Do not—”
Leonidas lunged and caught his wrist before he touched her.
“Don’t bother her,” he growled.
“I’m not bothering her,” Abelardus said. The hells he wasn’t. “But we are going to those coordinates.”
Leonidas’s response was silence. Or maybe he and Abelardus were communicating mentally. Both men glared at each other, their faces less than a foot apart, intense concentration in their eyes. Was Abelardus launching some mental attack? Was Leonidas applying pressure to Abelardus’s wrist? Alisa had no doubt he could break bones with his grip, if not grind them to a powder. And she was starting to feel extremely nervous about having the two men so close to her, the tension between them palpable in the air. Maybe she and Mica should both sneak out to use the lav.
Instead, Alisa deliberately and determinedly punched in a new course. She would not be cowed, not on her own ship.
“Leonidas,” Alejandro said quietly, “you’re grabbing the wrong person’s wrist. We have to investigate those coordinates immediately, before any more ships get there. Before the Alliance gets there. From all my research, I was led to believe the orb would be crucial in acquiring the staff, but if there’s a way to circumvent it… we can’t let the Alliance try. This is too important. It’s not just my mission and his dying request; it’s our only chance to regain what we had. Without it, we don’t have the resources, and it could be generations before we’re able to rebuild and reestablish ourselves.”