Indomitable (27 page)

“I would normally say thank you, Ms. Night. I'm afraid you don't deserve it. What about Sephora?”

“The girl will join you when you leave the station.”

“What about my early check-in?” Promise couldn't have been more sarcastic.

“Ah—”

“Please thank Troy anyway.”

Night looked like she wanted to say something more.

A nurse dressed in white scrubs with the Kies logo embroidered on the breast met them at the entrance to Kies Medical. Coastal scenes hung on the walls, and a holo of the human nervous system rotated on a dais. “I'm Nurse Haak,” the nurse said to Promise, and to Ms. Night, “Will you be joining us?” Haak looked Promise over and gave Night a perturbed look.

“No, I need to settle some matters,” Night said. “Ms. Paen, I'll be back for your signatures in a bit.”

Signatures? Oh, right. You mean so I can falsify screenwork.

Promise tried to peel out of her clothes and found the blood had already dried. “Wait.” Haak sprayed her wounds down, dampening her clothes while wicking away the pain. “They break it and I have to put it back together. Some days this job doesn't pay enough.” Getting her pants off ripped open the wound on her thigh anyway, and Promise nearly passed out.

“They did a piss-poor job of dressing that.”

“Tell me about it,” Promise said between labored breaths. Haak caught her underneath the arm and walked her to an examination table. “Guess they got their kilo of flesh too.”

“Best leave it at that.” Haak shook her head. “The less I know about you the better. Call it an occupational hazard.”

Haak cast a competent air about her. Stern eyes said she wasn't one for small chat. Her chin-length hair was cut in a bowl and it swung gently as she worked, every movement precisely measured. She reached for a side table and a small cylinder about the length of her forearm. “Let's wand the open wounds first. Then you point and I'll shoot, okay?”

Interesting choice of words.
“It's a plan. My ribs are killing me.”

“Good. They're up next.”

An hour later Promise walked out of Medical feeling more like herself. She was freshly showered, and dressed more or less as she'd arrived, minus the bloodstains and most of the swelling. Ms. Night, a taxi, and a pair of armed guards were waiting at the entrance. The larger of the two helped her get her head down as she entered. “Careful, Ms. Paen.” The driver turned around and offered her a beverage and a mint.

Rolling out the welcome mat. I guess we're all friends now,
Promise thought. She kept her situational awareness about her. If either guard reached inside a coat pocket or into the waistband for a knife or hypo or some other weapon, she wouldn't hesitate. An elbow strike to the larynx—guard left. Then a back fist to the nose followed by a hammer fist to the groin—guard right. She'd grab the driver's ponytail from behind and snap his neck. The phantom crack of breaking vertebrae made her smile. They'd all be dead before they knew what hit them.

The pain in her ribs had subsided to a midlevel ache by the time they reached the hotel. The bruising had mostly faded, so someone would have to really look to see it. The blistering on her hand had been severe and would require several more rounds of quickheal. Haak had debrided the skin before spreading a gel across the open wound, which quickly set while retaining its plasticity. Then she'd “wanded” the site to promote healing. Her palm looked pretty raw. She figured she could kill with it if she had to.

The taxi drove into a service hatch at the base of the hotel and found its spot among a small fleet of hatch-back bubbles. A private lift deposited her twelve floors up. She was escorted to her room, a hand on each arm. A small tray of food lay on a stone table in a well-furnished sitting room. The napkins said T
HE
P
EPPER
S
EED
, and there was enough food for two people.

“Am I expecting company?”

Ms. Night gave her an unreadable look and sat down. “The pepper seed is actually a nut-bearing tree on the surface. The nuts have kick. I'm not fond of them.”

“Seriously?” Promise eyed the food, thinking it might be poisoned or something.

“Here.” Night took a bite. “See. It won't kill you. Besides, we have time.”

“Yes, about that. My vacation isn't due to end for a bit,” Promise said. She turned her attention to the large viewport against the outer wall. Several in-system vessels were docked outside. E
N
M
OUVEMENT
was stenciled in black on the largest vessel, a pleasure cruiser much like the one she'd jumped in on. Two rows of viewports ran the length of the ship from the cockpit to amidships, and she could see people moving inside. Her stomach growled; she wasn't yet ready to put solid food in it. Maybe a cup of caf. “How am I going to explain the change of plans? I'm supposed to be on the planet's surface.” The cockpit lights came on and the caf nearly burned her tongue. She turned to face Night. “I just arrived, yesterday.”

“We've taken care of that.” Ms. Night stared off into space. “
En Mouvement
is one of our finest vessels. The morning after tomorrow, she departs for a quick tour of the inner system, and a brief orbit of Alterra. You'll be aboard. After that she returns here for the next group of guests.”

Best get this out of the way before I throw up.
“Better tell me the official story, then.”

Night looked at her directly. “When you arrived, you stopped by White Kies for a late dinner, where you unfortunately came down with a bout of food poisoning. We felt so badly about it we gave you a tremendous discount on the intrasystem tour. While you recovered you took us up on the offer. You met Sephora as you boarded the
En Mouvement.
You hit it off and spent a lot of time with her during the cruise.”

Promise sensed there was more and cocked her head.

“You'll still be billed for your stay and the tour but at a substantially reduced rate. The tour is, well, no-expenses-spared. The boss wants you off his station as soon as you've completely healed. After the tour, you'll stop by the tourosphere just long enough to switch vessels and then return to Hold with the girl.”

“How much is all of this going to cost me?”

“We already ran the charge and you will be pleased to know it didn't bounce. You've saved up quite a lot for a lieutenant.”

Wonderful.
“What about Sephora?”

“The girl's contract with us ends the day she boards the
En Mouvement.
She's opted to spend her outstanding vacation and company credits on the same tour you're taking. She's worked at the Tribeca as waitstaff for the past two years. Her father was a maintenance worker and died in an accident. When he passed, she stayed on. She had no other family to speak of and we took her in.” Night looked down and fidgeted with her nails. “I've loaded the details into your queue. You only get to read it once before it self-deletes. Here.” She handed Promise a datapad. “That explains it all. Don't try to link with the nets or get out a message. We've deactivated your implant too. You're running dark until you board the jumpship for your return to Hold. We have assets in the Marine Corps so we may check in from time to time.”

Night's admission was said so casually it took a moment for the words to register, and then Promise did a double take.

“Oh, I need a couple of signatures, here and on the next screen, and a retinal scan.”

“This is the letter
I
wrote?” Promise asked.

“Yes. You're welcome.”

The simple script logo of Kies Inc. appeared in the upper right of the screen; the letter was thorough. The hotel's concierge was mentioned, and the bartender at White Kies, Tanin. So were the resort on-planet and Troy who manned the welcome desk. He'd arranged for the early check-in she didn't get to use. And two sentences praised Haak from the medical clinic. Promise didn't disagree there. She cited all of them for “services above and beyond” her “every expectation.” She'd be sure to pass the word around the Corps too. Declan was even mentioned, and that went down like a jagged pill. The date stamp was four days from now.

“Nice to see Declan getting his due.” Promise read on. A minor mishap with a plate of undercooked surf and turf had sent her to the infirmary, the toxins nearly killed her. She'd been in her room and grown nauseous, fallen, and gashed her leg on a side table. She'd been boiling water for tea to help calm her stomach, and as she went down she'd reached out and brushed the hot plate and burned her hand too. She'd no reason to doubt the report except she knew it was all a fabricated lie. “The tour of the system was breathtaking and the ice rings around Alterra I won't soon forget.” The last paragraph turned her stomach. “Everyone at Kies was wonderful, and in spite of being sick I've never been so pampered in my life. The staff was amazing. I'd tell you to hang on to Sephora but…” Promise put the tablet down for a moment and inhaled slowly, and slow-released her anger. “… but she's already told me it's time for her to move on. As it turns out we'll be on the same in-system tour for two days so I'll have the pleasure of her company for a bit longer. She was there when I needed her most, when I could barely get up to care for myself. You should give her a fat bonus as a sendoff.”

Promise signed the document with clenched teeth, swiped to the next document. It was addressed to her commanding office, Lieutenant Colonel Price Halvorsen, and the date stamp showed the current date only later that afternoon.

MAY 15th, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 1500 HOURS

LT COL Price Halvorsen, RAW-MC

Commanding Officer, Charlie Battalion, Fifth Brigade, Twelfth Regiment

Queue: MM-1 160 021 533

Dear Colonel;

I've been waylaid on Kies Tourosphere and never made it to the planet's surface. Of all things I ate undercooked shellfish and the toxins nearly offed me. Kies Medical is top-notch and I should be good-to-go by the time my liberty is up. I'm writing to keep you informed … just in case. If my situation changes, you will know ASAP. Kies is comping most of my trip and if I'm up to it they've booked me passage on a two-day cruise of the system in the captain's suite. Not too shabby for a lowly jane. A nurse is accompanying me to monitor my vitals. I tell you … these folks are tops.

Plan on seeing me back on Hold, on time, green-to-go.

Paen, out.

LT PROMISE T. PAEN

COMMANDING OFFICER, VICTOR COMPANY, CHARLIE BATTALION, FIFTH BRIGADE, TWELFTH REGIMENT

She signed the letter and shoved the datapad at Night. “Happy?” A medical report was attached, which would become a permanent part of her jacket in the RAW-MC, probably before she returned for duty and after it had passed the colonel's screen. It even fed into her reputation for getting into trouble, and if anything, it was going to make working for Halvorsen that much harder.

Just another link in my chain of recklessness. Touché, Mr.…?
She'd never learned the name of Declan's boss and still he'd read her like a book.

What choice did I have?

 

Thirty-three

MAY 18
TH
, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 1214 HOURS

SOMEWHERE IN THE OUTER GUINEVERE SYSTEM

EN MOUVEMENT
PLEASURE CRUISER

“This is nice,” Sephora
said as the door between their rooms slid open.

Promise nodded without looking up from her book.

Her accommodations probably rivaled the personal quarters of a captain of a Republican battlecruiser, and maybe even a battleship. The small kitchenette included a fully stocked minibar and pantry. The formal sitting area was on the lavish side, even by captain's standards. Off it was a spacious bedroom with a sizable potted plant. Watering directions were mounted to the bulkhead.

“My name is Carlie. I like one deciliter in the

morning and classical music at night.”

A 3D relief of an ancient wet-Navy galleon sailed across the headboard. Her simulated viewport was spectacular and if she hadn't known better she would have taken the view for the genuine article. The
En Mouvement
was up to one-tenth of C, far too slow for the visible stars to care.

Promise's nose was buried in a book of military history.
Third Diaspora Conflicts and the Rebirth of the Wet Navy,
by Schweikart and Grossman. It was a bit on the dry side, even though it'd won the Miron-Lee Prize for narrative history the year before. Promise was tired and struggling to concentrate, and she'd read the same page twice already. And Sephora was standing in the threshold between their adjoining rooms, hugging herself and waiting for permission, again.

“We've been over this,” Promise said, slamming the book shut. She did her best to hide her opinion of the girl's dress.
I've seen more cotton in an aspirin bottle. Just make eye contact, P.
She did and nearly cringed. Sephora wore a sleeveless top that hugged the body like a wet T-shirt. Her crumpled skirt kept riding up. The ring in her lip chained to the one in her left nostril. Apparently, Kies had made her take both out when she worked.

“Fine, please,” Promise said with all the patience of a lieutenant of Marines, “come in.” She patted the cushion beside her. The urge to nap almost won her over. Days of too much inactivity aboard the tourosphere and the
En Mouvement
had siphoned her energy. She didn't want to think about what it was doing to her conditioning or run times. The ship's gymnasium was out of the question. She wouldn't leave Sephora for any length of time, not until she was satisfied the girl was emotionally stable and wouldn't try something foolish like hurting herself.
Considering what she's been through, how could she be?
She and Sephora needed to talk again, sooner than later, before they returned to the tourosphere and switched vessels for the return leg to Hold.