Tor (Women of Earth Book 2) (24 page)

Wynne recruited Mohawk to help her and was surprised by his willingness to sweep floors and scrub down counters and wipe the grime from cabinets and shelves. Mohawk loved to cook, but usually left the cleanup to others.

"What's gotten into you? You've never volunteered to clean before." she asked while they scrubbed the table and swivel type chairs of the Officers' dining area.

They, and the molded lounge furniture, were not attached to the floor, but grew out of it. The seats looked like solid plastic, but responded to body heat and molded to the form of the person using it. Wynne wondered what they were made of and if it could be used in the new housing being built on Earth.

Mohawk seemed startled by the innocent question. Water sloshed over the sides of his water bucket and he wiped up the mess before he answered. The delaying tactic made her suspicious.

"Well?"

"Just making myself useful, damn it. Can't a man be helpful without stupid questions?" He grabbed the bucket, almost spilling it again, and stomped around a half-wall into a rounded alcove that contained another, smaller table surrounded by a banquette against the wall. "Everyone else is busy," he added as if he'd just thought of the excuse. "Thought you'd appreciate the help. Fuck all!" He came back into the main area of the kitchen looking sheepish. "Spilled it again."

"What's wrong, Mohawk?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," he blustered without meeting her eyes. "Do you want my help or don't you?"

Thinking she knew the cause of his upset, she put her hand on his shoulder. "You're feeling guilty about Roark, aren't you? I'm worried about my sister, too. They must know by now about the Romer. They must know we're among the missing. We have to find a way to tell them we're okay without giving away where we are or who we're with. Do you think you can do that in Imperial City?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll take care of it." He bobbed his head and looked so relieved, Wynne reached for his arm to give it a squeeze.

"You're such an old worrywart, Mohawk. You could have told me." She smiled warmly. "You take good care of me."

"Just remember that when we get to Mishra."

"Sorry to interrupt this gag worthy moment." Hands braced on the frame of the hatch door, Ish leaned in. "Cap'n wants everyone in the Con. They're going to fire her up and if they can blow the dust out of her pipes, we're taking off."

Chapter 24

Wynne swallowed hard and forced a yawn to rid her mouth of the bitter tang that hung around the hinges of her jaw. The sour taste always showed up right before she tossed her cookies.

"Please don't vomit," Truca whispered close to her ear. The girl had come rushing forward to share the celebration of their success to find Wynne bent over and turning green. "Ish has a weak stomach."

Wynne raised her head from where it hung between her knees. "You're kidding right?"

"I wish I was. Blood, intestines, severed limbs – none of that bothers her, but if someone loses their supper, she loses hers, and she keeps losing it." Truca shuddered. "Over, and, over, and ..."

"I get it." Wynne raised one shaking hand while the other covered her mouth.

"Get what?" Ish removed her headset and swiveled her chair away from the half dozen screen projections at her work station. She tapped several and like magic, they disappeared from view. They were navigational charts, but Wynne couldn't make heads or tails from the symbols.

"That the Sea Goose is running smooth now. She's going to be a great ship," Truca lied smoothly and proudly.

"Who the hell named her the Sea Goose?"

"I did. She's like one of those big birds we saw on Finor. She's fat and awkward on the ground, but once she's in the air, she's beautiful."

Ish snorted. "Beautiful is not the word I'd use to describe this bag of bolts."

"Wait until you get to know her."

In spite of Wynne's initial concern, the takeoffs of the previous ships she'd been on were smooth and uneventful. While the speed with which the hopper shot out of the dome was frightening, her fears were groundless. Not so the Sea Goose. With the exception of Truca, there wasn't a serene face to be found when the beast took flight.

Blowing dust out of her pipes wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded. Amidst the arrhythmic pounding of the straining engines, the ship shuddered and creaked as it pulled free of the sand. They hovered in a blinding cloud of dust. Smoke replaced sand. Flames belched from the barrels at the wingtips as they groaned in their effort to change position. The monster bounced several times before it began to rise. The controls in the cockpit flashed wildly.

At the helm, Tor fought for control with white knuckled determination, while a stone faced Posy played the control panel like a piano. Mohawk had his eyes closed tight and Ish clutched the arms of her chair. The grey of her skin turned a sickly yellow. The ship slowly turned.

Wynne's stomach finally rebelled when it looked like they were going to crash headlong into the cluster of buildings ahead. The ship shuddered and rose with terrifying slowness. They missed the buildings, but barely.

Only Truca's disembodied voice remained calm as she relayed what she was doing in the engine room along with instructions to Posy and encouragement to the ship.

"That's it goosey girl. It hurts, doesn't it, but we'll make it through. You've been beaten and broken, but you won't let that stop you. Show 'em you've still got it. Show 'em what you've got inside."

It was only now that they were finally in the air, and the contents of her stomach were back where they belonged, that Wynne understood Truca was talking to herself as well as the ship.

The Sea Goose shuddered and the floor tilted. Wynne's stomach tilted, too, but remained in place.

"I'd better get back. That stabilizer needs loosening up."

The ship righted, and Tor took a moment to look over his shoulder and call out to Truca. "You never lost it, Truca. Never thought you did. Good work." He lifted his chin toward the hatch. "Now get back there and fix that stabilizer, then see what you can do about our acceleration. I want to shift and I need that bubble in place. The window's closing."

"You got it, Cap'n." Truca bounced away.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Ish objected. "You can't shift in this tub."

"We don't have a choice. We have to make Ammon's Tunnel before it closes and the only way to do that is to shift. Take the helm, Posy." He waited for Posy's acknowledgement before he unbuckled his restraints and rose from his seat.

Wynne looked to Mohawk. "Shift? Tunnel?" she mouthed.

"Light speed. Time tunnel," he answered aloud.

"Is that like a black hole?" she asked, forgetting the silent mouthing.

"Good name for it," Posy said, though he didn't take his eyes from the console.

"Honarie has a head start. We need to make the jump if we're going to catch up," Tor reasoned.

"And what if the bubble is unstable?" Ish argued. "What if the tunnel closes while we're in it?"

"If the bubble is unstable, we'll shut it down and be late for the party. If the tunnel closes, it'll reopen somewhere outside the Ephis system and we'll miss the party. If we want to get there before the party begins, this is the only way to do it. All of Celos heard that takeoff. If Yatos is still planetside, he's already got ships in that air. We can't outrun him over distance. We've got to make the tunnel before it closes. We've flown on luck before and needed it a helluva lot more. So get the damn course plotted, Ish. Mohawk, head back to the engine room and do whatever Truca tells you to."

Ish looked like she wanted to argue some more, but she snarled, "Yo, Cap'n", and turned back to her charts with a muttered, "Never thought I'd live long anyway."

Glad for something to do other than cleaning, Mohawk took off.

Tor stopped at Wynne's chair. "You weren't scared, were you?" he asked.

"Not me, but my stomach was."

He smiled and nodded. "I should have warned you. We're good now. Think you can walk?"

"Sure," she said, though it took her two tries to get up.

He took her hand and walked her down into the cavernous hold below. The sound of their footsteps along the catwalk echoed in the open space.

"It isn't as dangerous as Ish makes it sound. I've had my eye on this ship for a few years now. She isn't as pretty as the Sky Hawk, but she's sound, and she has four times the cargo capacity. I couldn't afford her and I won't have much use for her when this is done, but she'll serve our purpose. I'll have the memory of what she feels like beneath my touch before it's over. Kind of like you." He leaned down to kiss her.

"Should I find that flattering?" Wynne asked when they broke apart. "The comparison to a bag of bolts, I mean, not the memory of touching."

"Yes, and don't let Truca hear you call the Sea Goose a bag of bolts."

Wynne laughed. "Did you really win her in a card game?"

"No. I won the right to pick the boneyard clean for the parts she needed and to pay her off in five years. It's not going to happen, of course, but Till still holds the paper on her and can claim her when she's confiscated. He'll end up with a good deal." He looked up and beyond her. "The Sky Hawk is faster. She can shift from zero to ten in a blink. We had her up to fifteen once. Nobody can catch her."

He was still planning to make their escape. Wynne didn't want to think about it, but now had no choice. She wrapped her arms around his waist to anchor herself to the moment instead of facing a future without him.

"Zero to ten what? I'm new to this jargon."

"Sorry. Times light speed. At fifteen, the rush was better than sex." He smiled down at her. "Until you."

"If none of this had ever happened, what would you do with the Sea Goose?" she asked.

"Originally? I'd have turned her over to Digger as Captain. Let him run her legit with those high credit cargoes. He could take Chubo, Nix, and Lusomo as crew while I kept the Sky Hawk with Posy, Ish, and Truca, but that was only a dream. I'd never have the credits to pay for her and the additional crew. Mechanics don't come cheap, you know and this ship needs more than a skeleton crew."

"What about now? If you could. If things were different." She wanted him to see another future, too.

He answered without hesitation. "Turn the Goose over to Posy and Ish to run a second crew. I'd have to. Neither one would thank me for splitting them up, and would probably refuse to do it, anyway. I'd send Truca with them. I'd keep Chubo and Nix with me. They don't care what they fly or where they fly it as long as they're in the air."

"You could still do it, Tor. It doesn't have to end that way."

He gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. "Let's get to Imperial City, find your Brides, and take it from there."

"But if we find the Brides..."

Tor stepped back. He clutched Wynne's shoulders to hold her away. His fingers dug into her flesh.

"I'll find those women if I can, Wynne, but that's for you and the crew, not me. Their testimony will protect my crew from charges of piracy and kidnapping. It won't protect me from the charge of murder. Orax and Honarie are dead men. I was going to wait aboard the Sky Hawk for one or both of them to return. If I only killed one, I'd hunt the other down before I turned myself in. I'm still going to kill them and there won't be anything fair about the fight. By the law, it'll be murder, but for Digger and Lusomo, it'll be justice."

"But the courts will see to that, too. Leave it to the law, Tor," she pleaded.

"Do you know how many peacekeepers Honarie has tucked in his boots? Yatos knew damn well who was with those kidnapped women last night, if the women were there at all. That was a setup to keep all eyes on me and keep Honarie and Orax in the clear. I didn't have to be present to make the plan work, but Honarie also had to know that hopper wasn't fit to transport me anywhere else. Sooner or later, I'd have to show my face on Celos.

"Yatos will swear Honarie was helping him find the culprits and he'll have other peacekeepers to back the story up. They'll blame one of the dead, maybe Gisela, or if that doesn't work, Honarie will lay it all at his brother's feet. After all, Orax is the face of the operation and Honarie is loyal to no one. That bastard will stay on the surface just long enough to build a new crew and then he'll crawl back under his rock out of sight. He's done it before, but it's not going to happen this time, Wynne. I won't let it. This time he pays."

"And how many others will pay with him, Tor? How many of the people who love you will pay the price, too?" Wynne dug at the fingers clutching her shoulder. "Let me go."

"No, Wynne, You have to understand..."

"That's the problem, Tor. I always understand. I understand that skirting the law to bring goods to the outer reaches is your way of honoring your parents and their way of life. It's your gift to them. It has purpose. It has meaning. Digger and Lusomo's deaths were not your fault and sacrificing your life in penance for their loss won't bring them back. It will leave you with a poor excuse for a life spent hiding in a prison built of guilt. That kind of life has no meaning, and false purpose, because it's given as a penance and not as a gift. I understand because I've lived it, Tor, only for you it will be so much worse, because you'll be leaving behind everything and everyone you love.

"That's what you need to understand, Captain. You'll be leaving us to bear the pain of losing you. Add that to your pile of guilt. At least that one will be a guilt trip you truly deserve. Now let me go. I have beds to sort out and cabins to clean."

Tor relaxed his grip and Wynne shook her arm free.

"We won't need them, Wynne. If luck is with us, we'll be in Imperial City by the time we need a bed."

"I thought Imperial City was a rich man's playground. Beds won't come cheap, or are you a rich man and you lied about that, too?" Angry and hurt, she sneered the words.

"Stop it, Wynne. Don't make this harder than it already is. You knew from the beginning what's between us wouldn't work. Your life. My life. You said so yourself."

She'd said it and she'd meant it and now that the time was here, she wanted to take every word of it back. She wanted to say she'd go with him, follow him to the ends of the universe, but in her heart, she knew she'd spoken the truth. She couldn't leave her children. Tor had lied about other things, but never about this. She'd known from the beginning how it would end.

"Leave me with sweet memories, Kushma. They're all I'll have left." He reached for her hand and she couldn't refuse.

"Will you wait for me?" she asked. "Stay in touch somehow? Will the memories last until my children are grown?"

"The memories will last forever, Kushma, but you mustn't wait. I want you to return to your home and find a man who'll give you the life you deserve. Take a chance on those men Mohawk spoke of, the ones who look at you and see what I see. Make a life for yourself, Wynne, and make it a good one. Do that for me so I can enjoy the memories of a princess who touched my heart knowing she's happy."

Happy? She would never be truly happy without Tor. She would strive for content, but never in the arms of another man. She refused to speak the lie aloud, so she smiled at him. It was weak and watery, but it was enough for him to believe she agreed.

"Come back to the Con with me, Wynne. Stay with me and watch while we shift. I want you to see what I see, feel what I feel. I want to share this memory with you, too."

Posy's calm and melodious voice, crackling with static, echoed through the empty cargo hold. "Captain to the bridge. We've got company."