Page 23 of Escape from Nova Nine
A shudder went through her at the memory of Waorani’s agony. “Thank you for worrying, but their telepaths can’t read me.”
“Really? Me, either. I’m telepath immune.” Threads of satisfaction accompanied his declaration. “Torques their jets right off.”
A snort of laughter escaped her. “Yes, it does. Even the nicest of them are know-it-alls.”
“Probably what killed my last relationship. Alizee wasn’t used to having to ask what a lover was thinking, and I wasn’t used to answering. Then when the trading company discovered they’d hired a subbin’ mindreader, they termed their contract on a flimsy pretext and paid spaceport enforcement for a forced eviction.” Threads of sadness and guilt wove through his words. “I don’t know why they didn’t suspect me.”
She caressed the back of his hand with her thumb. “They were blinded by your animal magnetism.”
His body vibrated with low laughter, but he held onto her hand. “I got revenge. I was their only hull-repair specialist and resigned at the next stop. Grounded the ship for three weeks while they looked for a replacement. Someone might have flooded the local job net with ‘spacer beware’ flags about that company. Meanwhile, I looked for a crew that accepted minders. Should have added ‘captain isn’t a greedy, vengeful asshole’ to my selection criteria.”
The threads of his regret reminded her of opportunities and deadlines. “Does your greedy former captain have a fast transit ship?” She held her breath for a moment to gather her courage. Breaking the no-trust habit was harder than she’d imagined. “The comms signals that the mine’s techs have been chasing are real. I can get a traceable message out without detection. But only once. The techs will jam it when they figure out the content isn’t more static.”
“Jacker ships have to be fast or they starve. Tell her that Lunaso is sitting on an asteroid-sized haul. She’ll round up partners and bend transit to the max to get here and take it from me. I’ll give you her ping refs. Ask for a percentage so she doesn’t think it’s a twist. Warn her about Kanogan’s upcoming staffing surge, though. Does your plan call for warning the prisoners this is coming?”
“Actually, it’s a fallback plan.”
He was silent for a moment. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the step-forward plan?”
Considering she was hanging onto another empath like he was her deep-space life line, there was no hiding her mix of trepidation and determination.
In her quietest voice, she told him. “Liberate the warden’s starship.”
Darkness tanked. She needed to see his reaction.
“That sounds highly improbable.” He enveloped her hand with both of his. “Sign me up.”
She’d forgotten the bone-deep comfort of having someone in her corner. “Yourlandkaartwill go a long way toward improving the odds.”
“Good.” His containment thickened. “Do you have someone waiting for you? Out there? Back home?”
The abrupt subject change took her by surprise. “Myfamiliestam, if they’ve figured out I’m missing. No lovers or claims, if that’s what you mean.” She hid her sudden nervousness behind her own containment and tried for a nonchalant tone. “What about you?”
“None. Nova Nine blew my plans for a new start. What are claims?”
“Hard to explain. A merger between consenting individuals, perhaps. Historically, our independence and survival depended on claiming things that weren’t being appreciated. We’re born into or are adopted intofamiliestams, which are about business, property, and governance. Claims are about people who choose to be together and love each other, in whatever ways work for all of them.”
“Like a certified group marriage covenant, or a cohab contract?”
She huffed a short breath. “Contracts and covenants are for thebeschaafd. The cityships were founded by rovers, outcasts, and refugees.”
“I’m sensing that ‘civilized’ isn’t a compliment among the Volksstam.” His soft chuckle turned into a yawn.
Remorse shot through her. “You need sleep. Sorry I kept you up so long.”
“You didn’t.” His finger stroked the inside of her wrist. “You needed this. I desperately needed this.”
“Yes.” She let her gratitude loose to cover other, more complex emotions. “But if we don’t go to sleep now, there aren't enough stay-awake chems in the galaxy to keep us productive tomorrow. Today. Whenever.” She gently restored her containment as she withdrew her hand from his, missing his warmth immediately.
“Come on, Mayek. Bedtime.”
The soft griffin trill in response sounded like a sleepy child.
She smiled in the dark. He really had been sleeping with the griffins. Or at least one.
Moving slowly, she listened for the sound of his footfalls and the creak of his bed before sitting on hers. In her head, she composed the content of the communications packet she needed to send. Their best shot at escape was getting out before the warden’s anticipated influx of staff and better equipment.
The gods of Chaos did whatever they wanted, of course, but it was fucking cruel of them to make her wait five hundred days in hell to meet someone she could love.
