Diamond Star (43 page)

His roommate laughed. "Okay. But first let's get pizza. I'm starving."

Del grimaced. "I hate pizza. How about Thai?"

"All right." Jud jumped up. "I'll tell Cameron."

"You don't have to," Del grumbled. "He'll know the second I leave this apartment."

Jud hesitated, his face thoughtful. "You know, you're well enough known now that someone might recognize you if we go out."

Del just wanted to eat, without people coming up to him. "Let's get it in, then."

So they commed a restaurantio in the m-universe and ordered food, which they had delivered to Cameron since he would intercept it anyway. When he showed up at the door, holding dinner, looking confused, they unlocked the security mesh, altered the permeability on the molecular airlock, and invited him inside. Together, the three of them consumed six full dinners.

It was almost fun. Del tried not to dwell on how much he missed his family. But he knew the truth, as hard as it was to face. It was wrong for him to be in their lives. What example could he set for his sons, that their uncle was also their father? His third sister, Aniece, had married Lord Rillia, who governed the Rillian Vales. Rillia loved the boys and had taken them and Chaniece into his home. He was surely a better father figure than Del could ever be, and he had been a constant in their lives during the years their biological father had slept in cold storage.

But Del missed them so much, it left a hole nothing could fill.

Mac had spent so much energy dreading his talk with Del that he almost passed out when the prince called him instead.

"You want me to do
what?
" Mac gaped at the comm screen.

"Cameron and I are supposed to meet this person at the starport," Del said. "But Cam doesn't want me going into the terminal because people might recognize me. So we were wondering if you would meet her while we wait outside in the flyer."

"Who is she?"

Del glowered at him. "Hell if I know."

"And you really told your family what happened?" Mac was sure he had heard wrong. "Everything?"

"I told Chaniece. Sort of." Del raked his hand through his hair. "My brother Windar saw a holo of me singing. So of course, instead of contacting me, he took it to Kelric and my mother."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "Whereas you immediately contacted them when Prime-Nova gave you the contract."

Del regarded him with those deceptively innocent eyes. "I've been planning to tell them."

"For a year? That's a long plan."

"I needed to think." Del even said it with a straight face.

Mac wondered how Del could be so charming sometimes and so exasperating at others. He said only, "I'm glad you talked to Chaniece. Fitz McLane wanted to contact your family. I got him to hold off, but he wouldn't have waited long."

Del glowered at him. "General McLane can go drill--"

"Uh, Del, you know our conversations are recorded."

To Mac's surprise, Del laughed. "All right. I won't cuss anyone out." He mimed doing a salute. "Hi, General."

Mac struggled to hold back his laugh. Fitz wasn't going to find it amusing, and Mac didn't want to antagonize him.

"All right," he told Del. "I'll go meet your new Jagernaut bodyguard."

The Thurgood Marshall Starport that served both Baltimore and Washington was east of the Interstate 95 Air Lane. Mac rode with Del and Jud in a rented flyer while Cameron sat up front with the pilot, another Marine. They let Mac off at the gates for offworld flights, then headed to a flyer parking lot.

Inside the terminal, Mac strode along a fast-walk, which took him to the waiting area for Skolian arrivals. As he stood in the blue-carpeted lounge, the Jagernaut strolled out of customs carrying a smart-sack over one shoulder. She was far more convincing as a civilian than Cameron. He fooled people because holo-rock techs liked to act military; this woman looked like a tourist, nothing more. The only reason Mac knew she was an elite military operative was because he recognized her from the images Del had sent him.

He waved her over. "Tyra Jarin?"

"That's me," she said as she came up. "Are you Mac Tyler?"

Good Lord. Her English was perfect. "Yes, I am. Welcome to Baltimore." Mac offered his hand, and she shook it with complete ease, as if she had done it all her life.

"Do you have any luggage?" Mac asked as they headed into the gleaming white concourse with its many shops.

"Just this." She hefted her smart-sack.

"Good." He didn't know what to say. She looked so normal. Straight, dark hair brushed her shoulders and framed an aquiline face. She was on the tall side, with a lithe build. It was hard to believe she was one of the most versatile killers ever created.

Tyra glanced at him with the hint of a smile. "This way, no one notices me."

A flush heated Mac's face. He had forgotten Jagernauts were psions. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Only if you practically shout it in your mind. Your mental shields are otherwise very effective."

"I was trained to build them during my Air Force days," Mac said. "It's one reason ASC hired me to work with Del."

"How is he?" Tyra asked. "That business with those two fans sounded gruesome."

"He was pretty shaken up," Mac said. "But he's better."

"Good." She looked around the concourse like a fascinated tourist, but Mac had no doubt she was taking in every detail.

They rode a lift to the top floor, then went outside to the flyer lot, which consisted of landing pads rather than parking spaces. They were walking toward Del's flyer when its door opened and he jumped out. He stood in the sunlight wearing a ragged pair of mesh-jeans and a faded T-shirt with a rip in one sleeve. His hair spilled over his collar. He rubbed the small of his back, then stretched his arms while he looked around. When he spotted Mac and Tyra, he waved.

"He looks just like his holos," Tyra said as Mac waved back. "I had thought they doctored his images."

"They don't need to," Mac said. "That's all him." It was one reason Prime-Nova liked Del to tour; he really did look as good in person as in his vid.

"He shouldn't stand out in the open." Tyra increased her stride. "People could recognize him."

"There's no one up here," Mac said.

She nodded toward their right. Squinting into the glare, Mac realized four people were in a corner of the lot, half hidden by the shadows of an overhang, a teenaged girl, a boy, and what looked like their parents. As they stepped down from their flyer, they stared at Del.

"Huh," Mac said. "I didn't see them."

"I'm trained to sense people," Tyra said. "To me, their minds practically shouted their surprise at seeing Del Arden here."

Mac glanced at Del. He was watching Tyra curiously while he leaned against the flyer, soaking in the sunlight.

"I don't think Del realizes they're here," Mac said.

"He doesn't." Tyra said it without doubt.

When they reached the flyer, Mac said, "Del, this is Secondary Tyra Jarin of the J-Force, Imperial Space Command."

Tyra spoke in flawless Iotic. "I'm honored by your presence, Your Highness."

Mac couldn't help but smile. "His Highness" looked like a scruffy kid.

Del knew the protocols, though. He answered with regal formality. "We are pleased, Secondary Jarin, by your attendance." Then he lapsed into his normal voice. "But we shouldn't use titles, should we? It's sort of obvious."

Unexpectedly, Tyra smiled. In English, she said, "From now on, I'm just a bodyguard Del Arden hired." She tilted her head toward the family of four. "We have company."

With a start, Del looked over. The family had come forward, but they were hesitating about halfway across the lot.

"They probably want me to sign something." Del spoke self-consciously. "People do that here. They ask for your signature on a keepsake." Before she could respond, he smiled at the group and motioned them over.

Tyra spoke to Mac in a low voice. "First order of business: he has to stop doing things like this."

The teens came forward, looking shy and eager. The parents followed, clearly intrigued. Cameron appeared in the hatchway of the flyer, his gaze fixed on the group. When Del walked over to them, Cameron jumped down and followed. Mac was aware of Tyra moving forward as well, her posture tensed.

Del smiled at the teens. "Hi."

"You're Del Arden, aren't you," the girl said. She gazed at Del as if she had fallen in love.

"That's me," Del said. "And you're . . . ?"

The girl blushed. "Colleen." She indicated the boy, who was probably about twelve. "This is my brother Tommy."

The boy offered him a vid cube. "We watch this all the time. It's great! Would you--would you sign it?"

With his own eyes lit up almost as much as theirs, Del took the cube. It sparkled like a gem, with a glittering holo that read
The Jewels Suite
floating above one face. The other faces showed views of Del singing or dancing.

"Do you have a light-stylus?" Del asked. He was trying to look relaxed, but Mac could tell he had tensed up, as he did every time someone asked for his autograph.

At first, Mac had thought Del disliked signing because he feared someone would forge his signature. But he had soon figured out Del was illiterate. It wasn't that Del couldn't sign; he had learned a suitable scrawl. But it bothered him to give it away. When Mac asked why, Del couldn't articulate why, except to say that each time he gave an autograph, he lost a piece of himself.

He was a good sport about it, though. When Colleen handed him a light-stylus, he opened the cube and drew his scrawl on a light panel. He even wrote, "Love, Del." Although he had practiced the word
love
over and over, he still forgot how to write it sometimes, but today he had no problem.

After Del finished, he spent several minutes talking with the family, who were curious about the tour and his next vid.

"We heard you were sick in California," Colleen said. "It was all over the meshes. They said you had pneumonia from overwork."

"It wasn't that serious," Del said awkwardly. "Just bronchitis." He even pronounced "bronchitis" right. Zachary at Prime-Nova had made him practice it.

Finally Del said, "I better go. I have a rehearsal this afternoon. We're working on the new vid."

"Ultra," Tommy said. "We'll buy it as soon as it comes out."

Del grinned at him. "Thanks."

"You know, you're really nice," Colleen said. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to be bothered by us."

Del looked embarrassed and pleased, and Mac knew it was real, not an act he put on for the kids. "I'm just glad you like my vid."

"It's the best," Tommy assured him.

Del flashed his dazzling smile and waved as he boarded the flyer. "Have a good flight."

Colleen looked as if she were melting. "Bye," she said, her gaze rapt. "You, too."

Inside the flyer, Del strapped into his seat while Tyra and Mac settled on either side of him, and Cameron took the copilot's chair.

"It's still so hard to believe," Del said. "They like my singing. I can't get over it."

"You'll have to," Tyra said as their pilot took the flyer into the air. "You can't talk to people that way."

"
What?
" Del turned to her. "Why not?"

"It's too risky."

Del scowled. "Cameron lets me."

The Marine cleared his throat. "We need to talk about that."

Tyra glanced at him. "You're Sergeant Cameron?"

"That's right." He offered his hand, and they shook with a firmness that made Mac wince. If either of them grabbed his hand like that, they would break it.

"Pleased to meet you," Tyra said.

"Glad to have you on stars," Cameron said.

"What stars?" Del said.

Tyra smiled at Del, and it looked genuine. He didn't seem to irk her the way he did most military types. Maybe that was why Imperator Skolia had chosen her. Del wasn't likely to get along with any bodyguard his brother sent, but the arrangement would be more bearable if they didn't find each other intolerable.

"It's military lingo," Tyra said. "On stars. On the ship. Part of the team."

"If you two are done communing with each other," Del said, "maybe you could tell me how I'm supposed to meet my fans if you won't let me talk to them."

"You don't meet them," Tyra said.

Del glared at her. "Like hell."

Mac felt like groaning. It would have been nice if the "I'm honored to meet you" detente could have lasted more than ten minutes. "Del, they have a point."

"Et tu, Brute?" Del said.

"Where did you learn that?" Mac didn't know which startled him more, that Del knew the Latin or that he understood the reference to betrayal implied by the quote, supposedly the last words of Julius Caesar when he saw his friend Brutus among his assassins.

"Claude is reading Shakespeare to me," Del said.

Tyra came even more alert. "Who is Claude?"

"He's my EI," Del said. "What, are you going to say it's too risky for me to talk to my mesh? Heaven forbid. He might bore me to death with soliloquies on quantum scattering theory."

"Del," Mac said. He didn't know whether to laugh or groan.

"Mac, listen," Del said. "I know I shouldn't go into crowds. And okay, I admit it." He gave Cameron a guilty look. "I shouldn't have tricked you and run off."

"No, you shouldn't have." Cameron actually cracked a smile. "Though I've never been avoided in such an entertaining way."

"If I were in a better mood," Del said, "I would tell you that she really does like you that much. But since I'm pissed at you, I'm not saying anything."

"You really think she does?" Cameron asked. Del just glowered.

"Who?" Mac asked, at a loss to follow this development.

"It's nothing," Cameron said, back in taciturn mode.

Del smirked. "A nothing named Anne." When Cameron glared at him, Del regarded his bodyguard innocently. "What?"

"Who is Anne?" Tyra asked.

"She's my drummer," Del said. "Gosh, maybe it's too risky for me to hang out with her, too."

"We're checking all your associates," Tyra said.

Dreading the response he was about to get, Mac said, "You'll have to clear all your friends with Tyra, too."