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“Vegetables . . . ?” Kào wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or swear at the man. The commodore was so assured of Kào’s compliance in all matters that he assumed he could distract him with the temptation of fresh produce.

Moray read his deep frown accurately. “Ah, my boy. Don’t let all this trouble you. You have a future, a glorious one. With your records under review, we’re halfway there. I have people in places . . . they’ll ensure that your records receive the attention they deserve. And they’ll make sure the board is manned with individuals sympathetic to our plight.”

Kào glanced up sharply. So the review might not have been Moray’s doing at all, but an action instigated by Moray’s “friends.” The man had been busy while Kào was
locked away. “I didn’t realize that you were so well-connected, Father.”

“Bah! I’m not there yet. And it’s taken years to come this far. Government. Politicians. You have to know how they work, and I do. I also know how to call upon favors owed. And they do owe us, Kào. They never could win your release from that prison, despite promises to the contrary. It was a travesty of justice.” Moray’s face turned red as his eyes glinted moistly, a sure indication that the memory of not having been able to negotiate for Kào’s freedom disturbed him to this day. “You shouldn’t have been incarcerated at all; instead you remained there until the war ended. Blast, how they mishandled it all!”

Kào exhaled in a quiet sigh. “I know you were involved with trying to win my freedom from the beginning, and I hope you understand how grateful I am for it.”

“Involved? I lived it. Breathed it! And now your path back to respectability has been cleared. All we have to do is fill the squares as they are presented to us. Use your time away from the refugees to rest and prepare yourself.” Moray’s tone gentled. “I did it for you, Kào. For your own good. It is the same with the refugee woman—”

“Captain Cady. Jordan Cady.”

“I have no doubt you’ll be over her as soon as you’re away from her bed. We’ll get you help. Medical has drugs to deal with a man’s baser urges.”

Kào’s mouth twisted. “I know all about what drugs can do to a body . . . or not. Or do to a man’s organ . . . or not. You have not experienced true agony until you have sustained, against your will, an erection for an entire week. How delightfully such a condition contributes to the effectiveness of interrogation.”

The commodore’s throat bobbed convulsively. “They did that to you?” he rasped.

An embittered laugh escaped Kào.

Moray’s comm beeped. He took the call, a private message. As he read the text, the tension went out of him and his facial coloring returned to normal. “Ah, excellent news,” he said as he signed off. “Despite your loss of duties, it seems you’ll be busy, after all.” His gray eyes glinted with genuine fatherly devotion. “I’m proud of you, Kào. So very proud.”

Kào lifted a brow. “Why is that, sir?”

“Pack your bags,” the commodore boomed cheerfully. “A ship is on the way. You’ve been summoned to Sofu.”

Jordan grabbed Natalie by the arm and drew her close. “About what Dillon just said, you know nothing. Say nothing. And hold all my calls until I can get back to you and the rest of the flight attendants and let you know what’s going on.”

Natalie gave her a thumbs-up, and Jordan hurried off with Dillon. Everyone from Flight 58 was used to seeing her and the Irishman rush back and forth to the computer, and they didn’t give them a second glance. They had something else working in their favor. It was “Key Thursday,” one of the two days of the week Jordan forced everyone to speak their new language. People would think twice before troubling her with banal requests or chitchat, since it would have to be done in their new tongue. On Key days, English was punishable with a variety of penalties ranging from no dessert—which was often a questionable substance as it was—to an additional three extra hours studying Alliance history. Jordan was sure they grumbled behind her back, but it was for their own good.

Of course, she was breaking all the rules in her excitement at Dillon’s news. “The string of numbers Ben saw on the holo were altered,” he’d told her. “So were the ones sent off the ship by Kào to their government, along with news of the discovery.”

She remembered Dillon trying to explain in basic terms that when things were changed on a computer after the fact, footprints remained. Well, he hadn’t used the term
footprints
, exactly, but it was how she’d understood what he told her.

Dillon jumped onto his floating chair and went to work on the computer. She was too hyper to sit and paced behind him. “The real location of Earth isn’t what’s on record,” he said as he typed. “The coordinates the aliens made public put Earth thousands of light-years from where it really is.”

She paced. Frowned. Swore. Tried not to revert to her old habit of wringing her hands. “Why do that unless they wanted to keep Earth secret?”

“I don’t know. Those are the facts.”

“How long is it going to take those science academy folks to figure out that the doctored coordinates correspond to empty space? This is an advanced civilization; they’ll see the bait-and-switch sooner or later.”

“Someone on this ship already thought of that.”

She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“The coordinates don’t correspond to empty space.” He tugged on his ear, a mannerism he took on only when he was stymied in his work. Or scared, an emotion Dillon rarely displayed.

“Dillon, where are they saying Earth is?”

“Kerils-1008, a planet about the size of our Mars. It took me a while to figure it out because the planet wasn’t listed in the galactic database. But it is in the ship’s log. The
Savior
crew discovered it a while back and didn’t tell anyone.”

She thought of the movie that showed Earth’s destruction, and how the planet’s cloud cover hadn’t looked quite right. Unfamiliar somehow. Fear, cold and glutinous, oozed into her limbs. “Kerils-1008 didn’t happen to be hit by a comet, did it?”

He gazed up at her. “One that fragmented before it hit.”

“The bastards,” Jordan hissed. “They lied to us. When we asked for proof, Kerils was the planet they showed us. Not Earth.”

“I personally think the only thing that’s changed at home is that our families think we disappeared in a plane crash.”

“Honest to God, Dillon, if we’re wrong again . . .” She brought her hand to her mouth, biting her finger to keep from howling in outrage. She couldn’t go up the roller coaster incline again only to fall.

“It’s there. Earth. The more I learn, the more I suspect it. It’s why I’ve lived at this terminal, day and night.” A muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I swear, before my dying day I’ll be back in Mulligan’s, a pint of Guinness in my hand.”

His blue eyes watered, and hers burned in response.

“It’s a sickness,” she whispered. “Finding ways to keep our hopes alive. We can’t keep doing this to ourselves without suffering real psychological damage.”

“We weren’t wrong. We were right. And we’re right now. That’s the way we have to think of it.”

Courage is accepting the challenge though it’s easier to give up
.

“Anyway, this is what I won for my work.” Dillon typed some more. Then he sat back in his seat as a three-dimensional digital holographic image filled the screen in front of him. “Here’s where the real Earth sits in relation to the rest of the galaxy.” He pointed to a glowing speck. “That depicts our sun.”

She nodded. “The astronomers have always said we’re out on the galaxy’s arm, like that. Far from the center.”

“The boonies, as you Americans say.”

“The Rim, as the aliens say.”

“And we haven’t wandered too far from where we started.”

“You’re kidding? After all these weeks? And at light
speed? What the hell have we been doing, traveling in circles?”

“Just about,” he confirmed.

Something was wrong. Dead wrong. Earth’s true location was being covered up and now they were wandering aimlessly in the back reaches of the galaxy. She thought of Kào, and the news he’d gotten from his father. “The Alliance is desperate to settle the Rim. And the reasoning behind it makes sense. But are they desperate enough to take a couple of hundred people against their will? Are they planning to drop us off and go back for more?”

Dillon winced. “Sounds like
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
crossed with
Star Wars
. Alien abductions for the sake of galactic peace.”

Jordan groaned. “I’ve got to get the crew together and brief them. Don’t tell the other passengers anything until I gather my thoughts and make a plan. I can’t afford panic.”
Not even my own
, she thought. “But everyone needs to understand that we were lied to.”

“Someone’s lying to us,” Dillon agreed.

“Kào?” She hated the flicker of uncertainty she felt upon blurting that out.

Dillon remained poker-faced. Tactful guy, he was; he knew full well who’d given her the hickey on her neck. “Here’s the log of his computer activity. He’s been corresponding with the Science Academy. No one else.”

As she read the text in Key as best she could—she wasn’t nearly as adept at translating as Dillon—the possibility of losing Kào over everything that was unfolding became sharply apparent. She couldn’t bear the thought of it, but she’d made a promise to her kid. She’d told Roberta that she’d come home. She’d clung to that promise, until all hope was gone. Only when she believed it was gone had she finally given up. And now the hope was back.

She had a promise to fulfill. Keeping her word was her
own brand of honor, honor on a much smaller and more personal scale than that of the military heroes she’d known, including her father, brother, and Kào, but to her it was just as important. If there was a way, she was going home. If she had one other wish, it would be that Kào would want to come with her.

“Kào asked for Earth’s coordinates via the terminal in his quarters,” Dillon explained. “And sent what the science staff gave him.”

The science staff
. “Trist. . . .”

“That’s right. And it’s what makes me think Kào’s okay. He wouldn’t know anything of Kerils, because he doesn’t have access to those records.”

“How the hell did
you
manage it?”

He exhaled. “Trist again. She opened the door and looked the other way. Remember?”

This was like playing chess without knowing the color of the game pieces. “Whose side is she on?”

“I hope it’s ours,” he said. “If not, I think we’re screwed.”

Jordan would waste no time making sure everyone in the crew knew about what Dillon had found. “Ben,” she called. In an instant, the purser was at her side. With one glance at her face he knew something was up. “We have an emergency. Get all the flight attendants to the briefing room. Quickly.”

Ben departed to round up the crew. Jordan wiped her damp palms on her jeans and stood. “Dillon, that means you, too.”

The hacker’s mouth tipped up. “A battlefield promotion?”

In spite of her anxiety, she smiled. “Yeah. You can call it that.”

They gathered in the crew-only area of Town Square, the makeshift meeting room hidden behind movable dividers. Ben departed to do as she’d requested. She motioned to
another flight attendant, Rich. “Make sure no one eavesdrops.” She didn’t want half-heard and misunderstood remarks inciting panic. Arms folded over his ’Forty-niners sweatshirt, Rich stood guard until she was through briefing the crew.

At last, she gathered and brought the passengers up to date. Then, her throat raw from answering questions, she rejoined Dillon at the computer to see what they could find that might shed light on why the aliens wanted Earth’s location kept a secret.

The sight of Trist at the front hatch stopped her cold. With rumors of subterfuge in the air, the passengers gave the Talagar a wide berth. The linguist’s startling crimson eyes and tense lavender mouth added to everyone’s discomfort. In her tight dress, she’d been beautiful in a sleek, runway-model way. But the gray Alliance uniform hung on her gaunt frame. Her drawn face added to her spare, unforgiving appearance. “Remember that favor of which we spoke?” she asked.

“Too well,” Jordan replied.

“I have come to collect it.”

“Did you say Sofu, sir?” Kào asked.

“Yes. You’re to be picked up by an ambassadorial vessel transiting this zone and brought to the capital. Bring winter clothing. It’s brutally cold there this time of year. You’ll be there in time for the Ice Festival. Have a Glacial Ale in my name, would you?” Moray’s comm sounded again. “Now what?” he blustered.

“Sir, the Talagars are in range,” a young officer informed him, his eyes shining with unchecked innocent excitement. To Kào, the ensign looked all of fifteen. To the boy, a post-war recruit, docking with a genuine Talagar battleship would be a grand adventure.

“What is the status of their weapons systems?” Moray inquired.

“Disabled.”

“The crew?”

“Complying with all instructions, sir. They’re ready for us to initiate the docking sequence.”

“Ah, good, Ensign. I’m on my way.” Moray got halfway out of his chair when he seemed to remember that Kào was in the room with him. “Would you like to see what we’ve caught in our nets, Kào?”
I know how you feel about the Talagars
, his eyes said.

Kào was still reeling from the double blow: hearing about the refugees’ transfer and his own impending, unbelievably ill-timed transfer to a government vessel. “I think I’ll go to my quarters to pack.”

Moray’s relief at his acquiescence lit up his face. “I knew you’d be excited about the trip.”

Not that trip, Father
. But Kào let nothing in his face reveal that he intended to transfer to the Talagar vessel with the refugees, with Jordan. Anything Sofu needed, they could correspond with him there.

Withdrawn and aloof, Kào walked with Moray from the conference room. Before them was the bridge with its sweeping view of the stars. Life seemed quite a bit simpler the last time he was here, before he’d experienced the changes that Jordan had brought about in his life.