Overload Flux (21 page)

Luka cleared his throat. “As soon as we leave Horvax Station tomorrow, I’d like to go over our plans for what we’ll be doing once we transit into the Insche system. We can meet in the nav pod so everyone can be there.”

Adams and DeBayaud nodded, and so did Haberville, but she waggled a finger at him. “No more business talk over dinner. We should be enjoying ourselves while we have the chance.”

Luka didn’t mind, since he’d gotten agreement on his request, but her assumption of authority rankled him a bit. He might have to assert leadership more forcefully for the things he cared about.

Adams made it a point to thank Luka for coming up with the excellent dinner idea, and Haberville and DeBayaud expressed their appreciation. He was glad the others liked it, but he only really cared that Mairwen did. She would abandon it if she didn’t, but he didn’t know how to tell if she was enjoying it.

“A glass of wine, and it’d be perfect,” said Haberville.

Adams shook his head. “Transit-stable wines are expensive. Besides, I’m glad to have the salary bonus for being on duty for the entire mission, even if that means no alcohol or chems on board.”

“I’m with you,” said DeBayaud. “I’m going flitter-drop skiing on Artesonraju next year, and the equipment alone is costing a fortune.”

“Are you going with him?” asked Haberville.

Adams snorted. “Oh hell, no.”

DeBayaud laughed, then looked to toward Mairwen and Luka. “What sports do you like? Besides running, I mean.”

“Just running,” said Luka. He wouldn’t have admitted to skiing even if he liked it, though he’d done a lot of it growing up. He had a feeling DeBayaud was entirely too competitive to be a relaxing companion.

Haberville touched DeBayaud’s bare arm with her fingertips and gave him a seductive smile. “I much prefer indoor sports.” DeBayaud’s smile was wide and only for Haberville.

From there, the conversation turned to love versus lust, with Haberville arguing they were entirely separate, or there wouldn’t be a joyhouse on every street corner of every civilized planet. That led to a discussion of the best joyhouses in Etonver and their specialties, which Luka had no experience with. Most people enjoyed an occasional joyhouse visit alone or with a partner, but after the initial hot rush of puberty, he’d discovered he needed an emotional connection to make sex enjoyable, probably because of his talent. Another reason his lovers had been few and far between.

It was dismaying to realize he had so little in common with the rest of the team, and felt more comfortable with quiet, self-contained Mairwen. He was never going to be the hopelessly gregarious, natural leader that Leo Balkovsky had been. The best he could hope was to make the best decisions he could when needed. He took his dishes to the kitchen and made his escape.

He left his stateroom door open so he could see when Mairwen passed by, which was only a few minutes later. Haberville went back on duty and Ta’foulou returned to his quarters, leaving Adams and DeBayaud in the kitchen. Just to be safe, he waited ten minutes more, then sealed his door and used the shared fresher door to invite Mairwen into his room. She started for the chair, but he intercepted her and pulled her into his lap, needing the contact with her. He loved the feel of her, the weight of her on him.

“What did you think of dinner?” He was learning not to make it easy for her to give one-word answers.

“Good.”

Well, he was still a novice. “It’s an Icelandic recipe of my mother’s.” He let her warmth soak into him and pulled her in closer. “Do you have any memories at all of your family?” He kept his voice low and quiet.

“No,” she said. “I used to think I remembered warm feelings, but it might have been something I made up because I needed it at the time. I was younger than most candidates.”

“How old were you when you… started school?”

“Fourteen.”

It hurt to think of her so young and so alone, but he knew the weight of his pity wouldn’t be welcome. He tried for a breezy tone. “Ah, makes me feel ancient at forty-one to your thirty-seven tender years.” She smiled, and he continued. “Someday, I’d like to hear more about Mairwen Morganthur. If you’re willing.” He nibbled on her earlobe and was gratified when her flesh pebbled and her breathing became ragged. Her responsiveness sent his blood racing.

“I’m willing,” she said, turning to give him a kiss. “But not when we’re on duty.” She kissed him again quickly and slid off his lap to sit in the chair facing him.

Knowing he’d put it off long enough, he took a deep, slow, centering breath and closed his eyes. He constructed a detailed image of running in his mind, especially remembering how it felt in his body, then called up a milder crime scene memory, returning as often as he needed to the remembered sensation of running. It worked. It was hard work, juggling them, and he felt as cold and tired as if he’d been running a marathon in winter, but it worked. For the first time since he’d nearly lost everything, he had hope that he could get his life back, maybe find a new normal.

His back complained, and his head throbbed. The clock said he’d been working for nearly half an hour, so no wonder he was wrecked. Mairwen had been there the whole time. “I don’t know how you have the patience for this, but I am eternally grateful that you do.”

She gave him a slight smile and a shrug. “Better than midnight guard rounds in an ice storm.”

The image sent a shiver through him. He wished he was doing this on a secluded tropical beach.

“You’re cold.”

He nodded. “Always. It’s a side effect of...” He was too tired to think of a cagey way to explain that it was an aftermath of using his talent. The coldness, like his talent, had gotten a lot less controllable after the “collector” case. He was tired of having to dance around words and subjects because someone might be listening.

He was really tired of not being able to spend private, off-duty time with Mairwen. He’d be glad when they could get back to Etonver and their normal lives, whatever that might bring. He stood and held out his arms to her, and she stood and melted into his parting embrace and kiss.

Maybe he would have eventually regained control of his talent if he’d never met her, but he doubted it. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny, but he did believe he was a very lucky man.

CHAPTER 14

* Interstellar: “Berjalan” Ship Day 04 * GDAT 3237.041*

H
orvax Station was a mid-size orbiting platform above an unprepossessing planet of the same name. The station had enough portlocks for thirty or forty smaller ships and a dozen large commercial liners or military transports. From what they could see upon arrival, it looked about half full.

In the interest of efficiency and keeping a low profile, Luka sent DeBayaud and Adams to pick up the xenobiologic sampling kit that he’d arranged to be sent from the manufacturer, and authorized Adams to purchase some fresh groceries. It was always good to keep the chef happy. He asked Haberville and Ta’foulou to both stay with the ship to handle the supplies and flux reload. Meanwhile, he and Mairwen would visit the station’s communications center and retrieve any incoming packets externally, rather than connecting the ship to the station directly. He also wanted to look at some extras for the med kit. No one seemed to think he was being overly cautious, or if they did, they didn’t say anything.

The comm center was in the middle of the station, near the restaurants, stores, joyhouses, and chem shops that were always open. The commons area was decorated to look like an old Earth-style town square, but it couldn’t hide the station’s industrial origins. There were plenty of people, from station employees to corporates to passengers, but it wasn’t crowded.

The retail pharmacy didn’t have much in the way of medical supplies that their expedition kit didn’t already have, but he did buy some extra broad-spectrum antivirals, just in case.

Mairwen was as quiet as she usually was in public. He’d come to recognize the very subtle signs that she was taking in sounds, smells, and sights like a bloodhound, though he thought of her as more cat-like, all predatory power and lethal grace. He allowed himself a short daydream of taking her to one of the restaurants, then window-shopping, as if they were an ordinary couple with time to kill, but he tripped up when he tried to imagine her thinking of shopping as a recreational activity.

“What do you do for amusement?” he asked, as they passed a store selling trids, holos, feelies, and other publications. The store claimed to cater to all known languages, and he had a momentary impulse to ask them for something in Icelandic, just to see what happened.

She gave him the tolerant look she usually did when she thought his topic was random. “I read.”

“Yes, I know, and you run. I mean, what do you indulge yourself with when you get the chance? See live theatre? Swim the Xochoptl Straits? Volunteer at a pet-trade shelter?”

She eyed him as if he might be teasing her, then gave him a fleeting smile before blandly saying, “I follow brilliant men around spaceports.”

He covered an irrational stab of jealousy with a teasing smile. “Men? There are others?”

“No, it’s a recent interest.”

“Lucky for me.” He wanted to kiss her, but settled for briefly stroking her hand. It reminded him of the first time she’d touched him, her fingers interlacing his on the crowded crosswalk in Etonver, when he’d so desperately needed that contact and gentle comfort. He realized he’d started falling for her even then.

The comm center was large, with evidence of a recent expansion, and though not particularly crowded, was unusually noisy. The changed configuration had probably impaired the original acoustics. He chose a corner console and entered his biometric and access codes to retrieve several routine system and personal info packets for the
Berjalan
, which he dumped to a longwire.

A separate private message from Zheer had several interesting pieces of news. Juno Vizla, La Plata’s insurance company client, had agreed to pay for the whole trip, which made Zheer suspect they had knowledge they weren’t sharing. There had been two recent breaches in La Plata information security that related to the case, and Zheer urged extra vigilance from the team. Velasco, his erstwhile assistant, had resigned. Luka was pleased because it saved him from having to release him in favor of Mairwen when they got back to Etonver, which had moved to the top of his to-do list after she’d rescued him from the kidnappers.

The most interesting, if least actionable item was that a pharma company by the name of Korisni Genetika kept coming up in the data analysts’ deep diving of Leo’s files and on the net, and there were indications they’d had a long-standing relationship with the dead telepath who’d tried to interrogate him. He cleared the terminal and pocketed the longwire. He was frustrated that Zheer’s message hadn’t described the nature of the security breaches so he’d know what he was supposed to be vigilant about.

When he told Mairwen about the message, she insisted they take a different route back to the ship. Mairwen again walked companionably by his side, rather than the usual three-steps-back position she took when she was in simple guard mode, though he didn’t doubt she considered herself still on duty. It was only as they got back to the
Berjalan
’s entry lock that Luka realized he hadn’t once felt the stir of talent that used to make him almost queasy in crowds. He was congratulating himself when Mairwen put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“We need Adams and DeBayaud.” Her tone was neutral, but she was taking shallow breaths and her eyes were dilated. He’d seen that behavior when she was scenting something of interest. She stepped to within bare centimeters of him and spoke quietly. “A stranger has been here in the last ten minutes. The fluxing should have been automated.”

“Maybe there was a problem? Or someone got lost?”

“Maybe,” she conceded.

There was nothing visible to make his talent bubble, but Mairwen’s caution was contagious. “I’ll go find Adams and DeBayaud. Go check on Haberville and Ta’foulou.”

“No. I’m going with you.” There was a determined intensity behind her words and in her unwavering gaze. He got the feeling she’d disobey any order he gave her if she thought he was in danger, maybe because she still blamed herself for the kidnapping and interrogation. He knew he’d survived it only because of her.

He gave her a small smile and brushed the side of her face with the backs of his fingers. “Lucky for me.”

* * * * *

Mairwen was unhappy. The incident had disturbed her, and she’d instigated a full security sweep as soon as they got back to the ship, but there was nothing to find. Her nose and Luka’s talent told them whoever had been at the portal hadn’t been on the ship. Haberville and Ta’foulou insisted the resupply process had gone like clockwork, and the portal logs agreed. All she could do was tell Luka her misgivings, but it was ultimately his decision to continue the mission. It had been his friends who were murdered, not hers.

The
Berjalan
entered transit without incident. The phantom sonics of the light drive sounded ordinary, but she didn’t know the ship well enough to detect subtle variances. Luka held his planned meeting to talk about the types of samples they’d need from the planet, and the safety precautions they should all take. If it was a viable planet, the owners would likely have ways to protect it. He mentioned Korisni Genetika, the new pharma company player, but everyone said they’d never heard of it.

Adams was in the kitchen chopping fresh vegetables for omelets, and DeBayaud and Haberville were napping while they had the chance. Mairwen had followed Luka into the exercise room, where he was pacing, his mind a thousand light-years away. She didn’t envy Luka his leadership position, and hated putting pressure on him because of her strong, quite possibly pathological, sense of caution. Trackers who didn’t assume the universe was malevolent didn’t live very long, but she wasn’t a tracker any more. Didn’t want to be one any more.

She now stood indecisively in the doorway, torn between wanting to stay close to see that he was safe, and recognizing that it was a kind of arrogance on her part to think he couldn’t take care of himself. She was afraid she’d lost her sense of objectivity when it came to his well-being.