Dark Beneath the Moon (28 page)

“Sedmamin’s pretty easy to read. He wants power first, money second . . . and we didn’t go beyond that in our conversations.” I sat in the desk chair so I wouldn’t be so tempted to knock her unconscious. “I don’t think of myself as a criminal, if that counts for anything.”

“Everyone’s the hero of their own story.” She shrugged. “I do think you’re a user, though. You used Baden to try and get information about Mother.”

“Oh, he told you about that, did he? I wondered if he would.”

“I guess it didn’t mean that much to him,” she said.

“No, Baden’s a big boy. I don’t think he was in any danger of being hurt by little old me.”

“You probably think you’re using Alin Sedmamin, too.”

I smiled. “Between you and me, I don’t like the man. Entirely too slick. But he can talk a good game. I can see how
some people
would be taken in by him.”

She didn’t rise to the bait. “PrimeCorp’s been in the ‘using people’ business for a long time. Sedmamin has a lot more experience at it than you do.”

That’s what you think
. She radiated such smugness, standing there, that suddenly I wanted to hurt her. “Now, Baden Methyr, there’s another slick talker. You think I used him, but it wasn’t like he didn’t—”

“Would you even care if PrimeCorp actually harmed my grandmother? That was the message you brought Mother, wasn’t it?”

The abrupt change of topic caught me off guard. I almost said
No, I wouldn’t care, in fact I’d be damn happy about it since she ruined my father’s life. To say nothing of mine.
But I didn’t. I swallowed those words, smiled, and said, “Isn’t Baden Methyr kind of young for you? But then, I read in your mother’s file that you were a teacher. Maybe you like them young.”

She was good, I’ll give her that. She didn’t flinch. She narrowed her eyes a little and nodded slowly, like she was talking to herself. “You know, I can see how angry you are. It practically lights up the air around you. I can see it, because that was me, for a long, long time. But I don’t know what your anger’s about.”

I blew out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, Maja, as much fun as this has been, I’m really not sure what it is you want from me. My supper’s getting cold, and that
will
make me angry. So unless you have a point to make . . .” I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Nope, that’s all,” she said, straightening. “I’m sure we’ll talk again. Enjoy your supper.”

She shut the door, and I heard the plasma bar click into place, locking me in. Her footsteps retreated on the metal decking, unhurried. Our verbal jousting hadn’t made her run off crying, that was for sure.

I stared at the plate of pasta for a long moment, fighting the urge to pick up the whole mess and hurl it at the wall. Angry? Damn right, I was angry. I was angry at Emmage Mahane, I was angry at smarmy Alin Sedmamin, I was angry at the stupid aliens who’d put me in this situation. I was angry at everyone on this ship. I was even angry at my poor, dead father, who’d made bad decisions and kept too many secrets when he was alive and left me to deal with them when he was gone.

I closed my eyes and drew in a long, slow breath, pursed my lips, and blew it out again.
Breathe. Repeat. Breathe.
Why had I even engaged with the woman? So far, I thought I’d held the upper hand in every conversation I’d had with these people—well, except when Paixon had cut me off. But I’d let her daughter get to me. I didn’t even know how she’d done it. I felt an irrational urge to refuse to eat the supper simply because she’d brought it to me. The rational part of my brain reminded me that the gesture would be pointless. I was sure no-one on the
Tane Ikai
would lose any sleep over me not eating, and I was the one who’d be hungry.

“Well, that was interesting,” Pita said in a chipper voice.

“I’m not in the mood.” Slowly I took up the fork and scooped up a bite of pasta.

“How’s supper?”

“Pita,” I said in what I hoped was a warning voice. Honestly, the vegetable paste was delicious, but I wouldn’t admit that to anyone.

“Well, then, are you in the mood for this?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m in. We’ve got access to the entire ship network.”

I swallowed and smiled. “Good work, Pita. I knew you could do it.”

“So did I, once you left me alone long enough.”

“Whatever.”

“So, what now?”

That was a very good question. “Patch me into the audio comm again,” I told her. “Every feed on the ship you can get. I need something to listen to while I eat.”

FOLLOWING HER RATHER
portentous remark about our survival chances, Fha had excused herself to attend to something urgent on the station, promising to return later. As her hologram faded, another black tentacle extruded through the bridge wall, bearing another chip.

“Route data, do you think?” Yuskeya guessed.

“Likely,” I told her. “Take it and see, would you?”

She set it into her datapad and nodded.

“All right, everyone. We need to eat anyway, so we’ll do it in the galley and discuss our options.”

Not that I had much doubt how everyone felt, but I always made it a point to listen to my crew whenever possible. Even though it was mealtime, Cerevare remained in her quarters, still poring over the data the Corvids had provided. She seemed completely absorbed when I poked my head in to tell her the plan, so I left her there. Hirin and I quickly threw together a big pot of spicy pasta and vegetable paste for supper, and Maja and Viss took plates to Jahelia Sord and Cerevare. Yuskeya sat with her head bent over the datapad and the information the Corvid had provided.

Baden pulled cold drinks for everyone and passed them around, while Rei and Gerazan set places. I could almost convince myself it was a normal suppertime. Almost.

Viss returned. “I’m not sure Cerevare will even taste that before it gets cold,” he said. “I had to knock twice before she answered.”

“Let’s hope she gets some insights that might help us,” I said. “Where’s Maja?”

“She took Sord’s meal, said she wanted to meet her,” Viss said. “Do we have to wait for her? I’m starving.”

But Maja had returned by the time we had all the plates dished up. Her face held a thin, pensive tension, and I wondered if Sord had said anything untoward to her, but there was no chance to ask.

“Well, everyone heard what Fha said, so we might as well discuss it,” Hirin said once everyone was settled, plates before them and a communal basket of sweet rolls in the center of the table.

“Maybe the Corvids could give us some better weapons,” Rei said. “She obviously feels bad about stranding us.”

“Unless they’re wary about sharing tech,” Viss said. “They don’t even know us, so who knows how much they really trust us? And it sounded like they’ve been burned by the Chron in that department.”

“Three skips seems long. Maybe it’s too dangerous. There’s only one of us, and how many Chron?” Maja said. “I don’t think our chances are very good, even with whatever help the Corvids can give us.”

Baden turned to her. “So you’d stay here?”

She frowned. “I’m not saying that. With Mother sick—”

“Now, don’t everybody start worrying about me,” I interrupted. “I’m doing okay.”

“With respect, Captain, you’re not,” Yuskeya said. “You’re well aware it’s taking more and more medication to keep you going, and sooner or later one of two things is going to happen. Either it’ll reach a saturation point and stop working, or we’ll run out of supplies. I doubt the Corvids can help us with that. Getting you to Nearspace has to be a priority.”

I didn’t argue the point. I wondered briefly what she’d say if she knew about the nosebleed I’d had earlier.

“Does anyone think we should go back to the system with the artifact moon, and see if a new wormhole has opened up?” Maja asked. “That would solve the problem.”

Hirin cleared his throat. “Given the size of the system, and the data we, er . . . appropriated from the
Domtaw
, it could take months, even years, to search the entire system. We’d have to get close enough to the wormhole to pick up its radiation signature. It would be no different from any kind of wormhole spelunking.”

“Even if we found one, it might not be a ‘replacement’ route to Delta Pav. It could lead anywhere,” Gerazan suggested.

Hirin nodded. “Granted, we could get lucky and find it—if it exists—in the first week, but I don’t think I’m willing to bet Luta’s life on it.”

“And we could end up in a worse situation, depending on where it spit us out.”

“If we take the Chron route and run the burst drive as much as possible, we might slip between wormholes without even being noticed,” Viss said. “I can give it a quick overhaul to make sure it’s in top shape.”

“Absolutely,” Rei agreed. “And if not, we do have torpedoes.” She flashed a grin at Hirin.

“Yuskeya, what’s the word on that starmap the Corvid showed us? Can you calculate how long that route will take to get us to Nearspace, and where it will come out?”

“How long—it’s difficult to say until I study it more. I have to convert the in-system distances between wormholes for these systems to make sense for us. As for where it comes out . . .” She paused, checking something on her datapad. “I have an educated guess that the last wormhole skip will bring us out in the Tau Ceti system.”

I frowned. “Tau Ceti? Isn’t there only one wormhole in that system?”

“Only one on record. But the configuration of the terminal system fits. And obviously, we already know where all the other existing wormholes go—or else they’re red-flagged. It could be one of those.”

Wormholes flagged as “red” meant that no explorer had ever returned safely from a trip inside. No-one in their right mind went into one.

“If Fha is right,” Yuskeya continued, “I guess we have to rethink everything we thought we knew about ways into and out of Nearspace.”

I felt a slow chill creep up my spine. How many wormholes existed in Nearspace, undiscovered to us, but known to others? The feeling of safety and comfort that we’d gradually attained since the end of the Chron War seemed suddenly empty and foolish. Nearspace was as vulnerable as it had ever been. We’d simply chosen not to see that.

“Do I get a vote?” asked a voice from the doorway of the galley, and all heads snapped around. Jahelia Sord stood casually leaning against the ultraplas wall, holding the empty dishes from her own supper. Her pale-tipped black curls tumbled around her face in waves, and her
pridattii
spilled in inky lines around her eyes, emphasizing the challenge in them. I vowed at that moment not to underestimate her again.

Viss, Rei, and Yuskeya had already pushed their chairs back, but I said, “Hold on, folks. You think you deserve a place at this table,
Civitano
Sord?” I wasn’t going to call her
Captain
, even if she did have her own ship. I felt I was doing her a favour by calling her a citizen.

She shrugged. “I’m as stranded as the rest of you. And I was getting bored, listening in on the ship’s comm.”

I shot a questioning glance at Baden. She should definitely
not
be able to do that. She should have been able to talk to the bridge, in which case we’d open a channel for her to hear us respond, but that was all. He raised his eyebrows and one shoulder in a
don’t ask me
shrug.

“And I don’t suppose someone conveniently left the door open for you?” I asked.

“No,” she said, grinning insolently, “dear Maja locked me in nice and tight. But a plasma bar isn’t really a big deterrent if you know what you’re doing.”

“Are you armed?” I asked bluntly. She’d had to pass right by the weapons locker walking from her quarters to the galley, and I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to find that she’d helped herself.

She shook her head, holding her arms out to the sides, dishes balanced on empty palms. “Nope. Your girls—or boys—can search me if they want.” She fixed her sly grin on Baden. “Mr. Methyr, in particular, might want to renew our acquaintance.”

Baden’s face pinked, but he merely leaned back in his chair. “No, thanks, Relana . . . Jahelia . . . whoever you are. Someone else is welcome to the task.”

She twisted her lips into a mock pout. “And we were such
good
friends a few months ago. You haven’t even come to see me since I’ve been on the ship!”

“You might as well come in,” I said. “As of about a minute ago, I’ve decided that I’d rather have you where I can see you. Hirin, do run a scan over her, just in case. My apologies, Ms. Sord, but I’m not exactly ready to trust you at this point.”

She merely grinned again and submitted to the scan from Hirin’s datapad. When he finished, he directed her to an empty chair between Viss and Rei. I was struck by the contrast between the two Erian women. Rei wore her
pridattii
comfortably, the way some women can wear lipstick without seeming pretentious. On Jahelia Sord’s face, the swirling dark tattoos were a statement of defiance.