Sirius Academy (Jezebel's Ladder) (28 page)

Red sat in Daniel’s living room, head bowed. Using his
sternest voice, the billionaire asked, “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” she
evaded.

“
How they train female
astronauts
, the new web sensation.”

“He told?”

“No. You just confessed,” her uncle
pointed out. “How many people have heavy media scramblers from our company—on
this island?”

“Just the family,” she admitted.

“My irreplaceable assistant quit
the Academy rather than turn you in. He burned your DNA and scrubbed every
picture that’s ever been taken of you on this island to make sure your getaway
was complete.”

“So he’s going to his dream job in Oxford? That’s not fair. My team needs him.”

“I, me, my: that’s all I hear from
you! He spent weeks getting that birthday party ready for you, and this is the
thanks he gets.”

“Birthday?”

“Yes. We have cake for 300 that we
never used sitting in François’ freezer because of your behavior. That girl had
to have plastic surgery so she could model again. Llewellyn flew her to a
specialist.”

“That wasn’t—”

“I was there, Mira, cleaning up the
mess while you were making another one. Tell me what happened.”

She recounted events similar to the
TA’s but neglected a few elements of cause and effect. “I’ve heard that tape,” Daniel
said, and she blushed. He didn’t mention that he laughed till he cried the
first two times. “Because of his cover-up, they thought he was a spy; I
listened to
eight hours
of interrogation.” That got her attention. “He
didn’t point fingers, but in my opinion, Z didn’t do anything that you didn’t
demand over his objections.”

“But I needed—”

“Forget about what you want. You
owe that man your career and probably your life.”

“Life?”

“He knows who you are,
Miracle
.”
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. “He was willing to take a bullet rather
than say a word against you.”

“I understand.”

“Not by a long shot, girl. Because
of this incident, he lost Oxford or any other academic post forever. He can
never teach again.”

Her stomach dropped. “I’m so
sorry.”

“When they finally let me visit
him, that boy cried in front of me because he didn’t want me to be ashamed of
him. He knows he won’t last a month if he leaves this island; he’ll be tortured
because he was mine. He’d kill himself before he’d betray us.”

Tears poured down her face now.
“How can I help?”

“That is what I was waiting for.
You could’ve come to us last night. You should have offered to help him as soon
as you heard. As it is, the pilots and mils have rallied to rescue him. They
signed a waiver on his extra quarter-inch of height. It was unanimous. Your supper
club should’ve thought of that!”

“What?”

“Llewellyn spearheaded an effort to
make Z an astronaut student. The mils all signed the petition.”

“That’s brilliant. I thought they
hated him.”

“Herk’s been lobbying on his behalf
for a long time, but Professor Rogers tipped the scale. He told them that Z’s
conscientious-objector status was so he could work in the hospital his mom was
spending so much time in. He explained Zeiss was working as a civilian
cryptanalyst, but couldn’t defend himself to students without violating
security. Getting credit for taking out a Rex mid-rape helped his reputation,
too.”

“But he
is
a pacifist.”

“Rogers respects him enough not to
mention that. Helping out every time your class did something dangerous went a
long way in the professor’s book. Our boy isn’t afraid of hard work.”

“If the mils signed for him, what’s
his classification?”

“Scientist navigator trainee.”

“Didn’t Z teach that?” Red asked.

“Which means he has almost all the
prerequisites, but he’s a little light on real-world experience. Mr. Rogers has
volunteered to be his adviser and signed off on his survival training. Z only
has the splash test left for intro. I signed off on all the alien stuff and Kendo.
Data security and physics are no-brainers. Because he finished his
dissertation, we can give him third-year status.”

“That’s fantastic. He can stay!”

“Until he gets his deep-theta
training course, he can’t leave, not even to visit his family. This place will
be his prison.”

“The king of the nats has to read
Collective Unconscious? That’s going to be hard on him. What’s his talent going
to be?”

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “You have
to ask? You’re the Index. You tell me.”

She blinked a few times. “He’s a
deep quantum thinker. That’s dangerous and valuable.”

“Do you understand what Z gave up
for you?”

“I’m beginning to. What can I do
for him?”

“He’s weak in hand-to-hand. Trina is
letting him take remedial classes like any other egghead. He doesn’t like guns,
even for paintball. Officially, we want you to be his tutor.”

“Unofficially?”

“Keep him sane while he adjusts to
his new life.”

“Yes, sir,” Red said bowing like
she did to her martial-arts instructors. “How is he paying for this?”

“I gave him a scholarship.”

Meekly, she asked, “Could I fund
that?”

“That would be appropriate.”

As she touched the door to leave,
she asked, “His dissertation, can I read it?”

“When he lets you. Only about five
minds on the planet can completely grok it, and only a few of those are in our
coalition. He can’t talk about it to other physicists without going to jail.
You really did a number on him, girl.”

“How do I earn his forgiveness?”

“Start by asking, no excuses,”
Daniel said, biting his lip.

“What is it you’re not telling me?”

“Need to know, Mira, but I’ll give
you a hint: look at the posts people left on the Academy site before we took it
down. I emailed you a copy. Read between the lines.”

****

When Red got to the guest quarters
near the landing pad, Sojiro was already there. Zeiss was dressed in grey
mechanics’ overalls and his fedora, and they were chatting about the manga
release. His huge, orange visitor’s badge stuck out from the band of the hat.
When she stepped in the door, they both shut up. The former TA looked ill.
“Snappy new fashion statement?” Red joked.

Sojiro stepped between them to
protect the other man. “They sent all his clothes away for DNA testing, in case
he missed some evidence.”

“Z, I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes got big and he almost told
her the truth. Instead, Zeiss took the green stress-ball out of his right
pocket and began working it. Sojiro hissed, “What more do want from this man?
If they suspect you, it was all for nothing.”

“I came to offer my support and to
check on one of my friends,” Red replied. “If you want, we can start your
hand-to-hand lessons today.”

“I’m pretty tired,” Zeiss said, not
selling the weak excuse the way he should have.

She glanced at the artist,
wondering whether they wanted to be alone. “Tomorrow, then?”

Sojiro explained, “He has the
splash-down test and heavy medical screening then.” He was obviously trying to
keep her away.

“We have all week,” she offered,
suspicious. “In the meantime, I’ll spring for a new wardrobe.”

“He likes to pick his own clothes,”
Sojiro objected.

Red sat on the edge of the sofa,
without asking for permission. “Don’t shut me out, please; we’re a team. I
admit that I screwed up. I’ll do anything you want; just say you’ll forgive
me.”

Zeiss covered his face. “I could’ve
stopped at any time. I don’t blame you.”

She smiled and the room brightened.
Somehow, that made it hurt worse for him. “Tell me about the dissertation!” she
asked.

“It took me two years to prove what
you tossed off in our first hour together.”

“You
proved
it?
Congratulations. I didn’t think it was possible.”

She hugged him. He didn’t hug back.

“For a nat?” Zeiss asked.

“For anyone, you goof,” she said,
slugging him in the shoulder.

“I just kept going. Boring persistence
is what I do best. But one day, I’m going to prove you wrong, Red.”

“Can I read it?” she begged.

The thought of this made his heart
rate spike. “No. Not yet.”

Sojiro mustered his courage. “I
think you need to leave now.”

In the hall, she turned to the
artist. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing that happened, no names.”

“But you guessed.”

“He wouldn’t open his door after
ten for anyone else.”

“You don’t have to worry,” Red
whispered. “He wasn’t unfaithful to you.”

Sojiro pulled back. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not a couple?” Red asked,
daring him to refute the evidence.

“In my dreams. Z may be a Vulcan
most of the time, but he’s het as they get.”

“But the cooking, the neatness, the
mommy picture, always polite . . .”

The artist raised an eyebrow. “He’s
a gentleman who had to take care of his sick mother because no one else in his
lazy, self-centered family would.”

She left as her world-view tipped
on its side.

****

When Red got back to her room, she
checked her email. She zeroed in on the copy of the website. There were
hundreds of joking and supportive posts, including several phone numbers for
Zeiss. Lou’s photo icon had effusive thanks beside it. But the first comment
caught her eye. She stormed back to Zeiss’s apartment. Herk was now guarding
the door.

“Let me in there!” she bellowed.

“Quiet, or I’ll call security,”
Herk whispered calmly. “He needs his rest.”

“I need to talk to him about that
tramp Vanessa!”

“Don’t call her a tramp. Neither Z
nor Lou appreciates that talk.”

“I knew she screwed him!”

“It’s none of your business, but I
happen to know otherwise.”

“She said—”

“And we believe what people on
Facebook write about our friends?”

Red blushed. “No.”

“Vanessa is his kid sister’s best
friend.”

“Sorry.”

“Come back day after tomorrow. Let
the wound scab over.”

“What are you talking about?”

Herk said, “You’re the genius,
figure it out.”

“Wait . . . he knew Vanessa before
the party? Lou kept thanking him. Did he introduce her to Lou at the party?”
The tips of her ears turned crimson.

Herk tried to remain stoic, but her
empathy talent pulled the truth out.

“He’s so going to pay,” she vowed,
and stomped off again.

“Wait till Risa comes back at the
end of the week,” Herk shouted. “Talk to her!”

When she was gone, he pulled out a
walkie-talkie, and said, “Control, tell Taggart our boy may need a safety
escort for the friendlies, too.”

****

Zeiss passed the Extreme
Environment tests and physicals with ease.

He wore his visitor’s badge hat and
a new, black student uniform splattered with blue paint when he met Alistair. As
he approached the door to the dojo, the former TA laughed, “A-man, turns out I
suck at firearms but I make a really big target for the other newbies.”

The referee handed him a padded
helmet and whispered in a serious tone, “Z, your goal is to survive. Use your
fencing skills to block, redirect, and avoid.”

Zeiss’s escort guard took a step
back.

“Why are you telling me this, A?”

“’Cause I’m the ref, and I like
you; I don’t want your first week at the Academy to be in traction. You know
that Red’s wicked aggressive, but this morning, she was pounding the dummy with
a vengeance.”

“And?”

The referee handed over a printout
of Zeiss’s face, obviously crumpled in the center. “She taped your face to it.”

“Clear the dojo!” called Zeiss.

The spectators grumbled. Alistair
gaped, “Are you nuts?”

Zeiss’s guard was already in the
hall. The former TA said, “Please. It’s personal.”

Alistair nodded and left with the
other witnesses.

After the main door closed, Red
swept into the room, barefoot. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The two faced off in the white
circle.

Zeiss said, “You’re angry. Tell me
why.”

“I don’t know what burns me more.”
She made an obvious punch toward his crotch and he pivoted to the side. “That
you were going to leave without telling any of your supposed friends . . .” She
stomped toward his instep, and he blocked using his superior reach before
disengaging. “That you meddled in my recruiting and love life . . .” A knife
hand darted for his throat and he barely bobbed back in time. “Or that since
you’ve been demoted to student, my whole team hates me.”

She aimed a blow at his solar
plexus, which he dodged.

“Your team doesn’t hate you,” he
said.

On her return to position, she
clipped him in the kidney. He blurted, “Damn it, woman, you’re out of bounds.”

Coldly, she informed him, “This
isn’t a tournament, Mr. Rules. The terrorists won’t play fair. You know the
basics of blocking and dodging drunken frat boys and floozies. Let’s move on to
throws. ”

“We need to clear the air,” he insisted.
She performed a vicious leg sweep that knocked him on his ass. He kept the
momentum going and rolled clear of the circle, breathing heavily. He slowly returned,
crouched and ready.

“You didn’t include yourself on my
team in that last answer,” she noted, as she walked around him.

“I don’t hate you,” he said,
waiting for the arm on his shoulder that would begin the next exercise.

Instead of the standard drill, she
hopped onto his back like a deranged flea. “You chose to leave your position and
told no one!”

He lurched forward and tossed her
off. “I never got to choose.” There was an edge of anger to his voice.