Song of the Navigator (12 page)

Tover refused to look at Cruz. Instead he wandered down the path, giving in to the sensation of fleeing. He kept moving despite his labored breathing and the ache in his legs. It felt good to get away, from the guards, from Cruz, from everything.

The pathway continued flat but then dropped to wind down the leafy hillside toward Villazul. Tover took a few of the steps down before he sat on a step. He sat for a long time, thinking. He was going to have to jump to get himself out of this situation. And if he was too psychologically fucked up to do so now, it was all right. He'd keep trying. Eventually he would break through his psychological barrier and get home.

Just hold on a little bit longer
, Tover told himself. He closed his eyes. He felt foolish, having to give himself a pep talk, but then he remembered those scary, isolated first years as a navigational candidate. He got through those. He got through the implant surgeries and the sensitivity training. He had been through rough periods and survived. And he had survived the Jarrow pirates. He had to hold on.

He heard a muffled curse and turned slightly. The two Pulmon Verde guards were arguing with Cruz. He looked pissed off, hands on his hips. At one point he glanced over to Tover but quickly looked away, although clearly the argument was about him.

But they did not disturb Tover, and so he remained a while longer, enjoying the view, and processing what Cruz had told him.

Tover didn't believe it all. There were certainly two sides to the story, there always were. The real truth most likely lay somewhere in the middle.

The real question was, if
he
had believed it true, and had been in Cruz's shoes, would he have been willing to risk Cruz's safety to a group of unscrupulous thieves to preserve his life's work?

Chapter Ten

Given proper care, Tover's body responded quickly to therapy, and he healed faster than he had expected.

After all, even with the Jarrow ship's bone knitter, Tover's bones had never properly healed from their first breaking. Tover had conceded to himself that he would never return to his former athletic grace.

But under Lourdes's care, his body grew stronger every day and pain receded to the point that when he woke up, he felt merely a generalized ache. He reacted well to the bone and ligament strengtheners, and he diligently followed Lourdes's exercise instructions every morning.

Once he was comfortably walking, he didn't want to stop. He indulged in long strolls through the violet fields, occasionally accompanied by Ana or Lourdes, but usually alone.

Over the weeks of his recuperation, Tover began to see patterns amongst the Pulmon Verde. There were those who saw Tover as a prize to be sold, and who seemed unwilling to forgive him for the loss of one of their own on the Jarrow ship.

But there were others who treated their job of guarding Tover like a vacation. Most kept their distance but some had approached him, asking nervous questions about his abilities, inquiring about his family and how he felt. These guards didn't bother to control Tover's movements and let him wander from the house completely free, keeping their focus on the strange all-terrain vehicles instead.

One of the guards, a young man Cruz and Lourdes called “Feo” but whom Ana seemed to have a liking for, came into the house every time he had a shift at the Arcadios and joined the family for lunch. At first Tover found his presence threatening. Like Cruz, he rarely took off his weapons. But Feo was affable and cheery, and treated Tover like he were a member of the family, not a commodity to guard.

While indulging in his long walks alone, Tover initially considered making a break for it. But the idea was purely fanciful. Kilometers stretched between the house and the next settlement, and Villazul had been an hour's drive. There was nothing but agricultural land, separated by untamed swathes of marsh that defied all attempts of cultivation. There was nowhere he could go, and the Pulmon Verde clearly knew this.

So instead he wandered amongst the tall fronds of alien plant life. Bursts of heat and cold from the changes in starlight and breeze gave him a thrumming, exotic sense of connection through his body. He sensed a smallness that also felt like being part of something huge and whole and beautiful, and with a shock he realized he'd
never
been alone outside. Harmony had provided an escort for him from the moment he had graduated from the training institute. Solitary time outside Dadelus-Kaku Station was a rare, pleasing privilege, and he took full advantage of it.

Cruz no longer stayed in town. He lived in the house, although he kept his distance and never joined the others for meals. Tover was hyperaware of his presence, and Cruz seemed to sense that and stayed away.

But there were small hints that Cruz was equally sensitive to Tover's residence in the house. During the CTASA soccer playoffs Tover found a recorded holocast of each match saved for him to watch on Lourdes's holoscreen.

Electronic magazines covering soccer news appeared at his bedside table. One time there was a magazine whose home screen specifically opened to an article on a new aviary design.

There was even a small stuffed toy in the shape of an African gray parrot left for him one evening. Tover's heart clenched, missing Ronda more than words could express.

He assumed it had been Ana who had brought it for him, but she said she had no idea how it got there, and besides, she'd never give anyone a
bird
.

So clearly these small offerings came from Cruz, who knew Tover's interests so well. And their presence, while infuriating, also placated his boredom. He wished he was strong enough to toss them aside on principle of who provided them—but the truth was, he really wanted to know who won the playoffs.

And eventually Tover's own curiosity got the better of his good judgment, and he simply asked Lourdes about what Cruz worked on that kept him out of the house all day.

Lourdes looked at him in surprise. “His report! The evidence he collected is being formatted into an exclusive newscast,” Lourdes answered him as she cleaned up the surgical table in her office. She had had a steady stream of patients that morning, and the room looked trashed. Tover helped her put things away.

“Cruz is working with Zoya Verishnikov,” Lourdes announced proudly. Tover shrugged.

“You don't know her?” Lourdes asked. “She's famous! A prime reporter for the Star Newscast. They've scheduled the exposé to air in a few weeks, but Zoya is a stickler for details, especially in a situation like this where it will lead to a scandal. The two of them are finalizing research and conducting interviews to add footage.”

Tover wondered if his assistant Gull, or Harmony Port Operations Chief Peter Owens, or his publicist Alexey Jade, would be watching the newscast. Would they make the connection between the scandal and his disappearance? Probably not.

One morning, as Tover wandered the house, bored, he came across a beautiful, onyx-inlaid Arlandian Parcheesi set. Lourdes admitted she received it as a gift from a grateful patient years ago, but that she had never bothered to learn the strategic fine points of the game.

Tover loved Arlandian Parcheesi, with its complex pawn-capturing rules and jumping strategies, and so he set up the board in the living room and showed Lourdes and Ana how to play.

Ana seemingly played only to humor him, but Lourdes got a wicked gleam in her eyes and watched Tover trounce her three times before changing strategies, beating him the next two games with calculated cunning.

Cruz walked in the house, his face bloody and sporting a black eye. Game play instantly stopped and Lourdes stood. “What happened to you?”

Cruz shrugged. “Got in a fight with Ramirez.”

“Again?” Lourdes sounded disappointed. She shook her head. Still, she grabbed Cruz's wrist and led him back into her office. She returned, but Tover could tell she was distracted, her heart no longer in the game.

Cruz re-entered a few minutes later. The skin around his eye shone with swell-reduction spray. He watched them play, leaning against the living room wall. Tover felt uncomfortable with him standing there.

“Who's winning?” Cruz asked at last.

“Who do you think?” Ana complained. “Who always wins?”

“Tover and I are pretty even,” Lourdes said. “He has a home-team advantage.”

“Yeah, but I think you cheat,” Tover grumbled. Both Ana and Cruz laughed.

“She's totally a cheater!” Ana cried. “Cruz and I have bitched about it for years. Our dad never believed us.”

Cruz looked into Tover's eyes. Tover quickly looked away.

“Is the network still down?” Cruz asked.

Lourdes nodded. “Can you do anything about it? It's becoming a real hassle.”

“I'll see what I can do.” Cruz shrugged. “I'm not real popular at the moment.”

“Why not?” Ana asked.

Cruz's eyes flickered back to Tover but then looked away. “It doesn't matter. But I'll try.”

“Thank you.” Lourdes moved her piece forward, and Tover saw the mistake she made. He quickly pushed his pawn into position and landed his piece home.

Lourdes and Ana stared at the board in shock, and Tover had to restrain himself from gloating. It was an old trick, one that most Arlandians knew. He should have felt ashamed for pulling it on two players who'd only learned the game a few hours ago, but Lourdes was too clever for her own good.

“How did you do that?” Ana asked.

“I'm very good,” Tover bragged.

Lourdes grinned. “Sneaky. I won't lose to that move again.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Feo entered, smiling as soon as he saw Ana.

“Hey! Am I too late for lunch?” he asked.

Cruz frowned. “Where's Chucho?”

Feo shrugged. “Sick at home. Only me today. How you feeling, Navigator?”

Tover nodded. “Good, thanks.”

Feo barely registered the comment, he was too busy grinning at Ana.

Ana smiled back. “You want a steak? Mom got some fauxbeef from a patient last night.”

Feo's eyes lit up. The two of them wandered into the kitchen. Lourdes still stared at the board.

“I should take Tover,” Cruz said quietly. “Feo won't care, and Ramirez is setting the guarding schedule for next week.”

Lourdes glanced up. She looked frightened.

“What will happen if—”

“It'll be fine.” Cruz nodded to Tover. “Come on. Get your boots. We have to be fast.”

Tover didn't know where they were heading, but he sensed Cruz's urgency, so he didn't hesitate. He walked briskly to his room and pulled on his boots. He took one last look around the place, a little sad to be leaving a room that had been such a warm space of healing for him after his hell on Jarrow.

But he didn't linger. He met Cruz at the door.

“I'm going for a walk with Tover,” Cruz shouted into the kitchen. Tover heard Feo talking to Ana and Lourdes. He didn't bother to respond.

“Can I say goodbye?” Tover whispered, realizing this could be the last chance he would ever see Lourdes and Ana again, the thought shockingly dispiriting.

Cruz shook his head, and gripped Tover's arm. He led Tover out of the house and into the nave.

Cruz peeled out of the driveway. They turned left once they hit the main road.

“It's a longer drive this way but fewer chances to pass other soldiers,” Cruz explained. He kept looking in his rear viewer as if expecting to be followed.

“Where are you taking me?” Tover asked.

“The Harmony base.” Cruz's eyebrow cocked up. “Isn't that where you want to go?”

“Yes.” Tover felt nervous anticipation coil in his stomach. How would he explain to the Harmony personnel, and to Peter Owens, his boss, why he couldn't jump anymore?

It didn't matter, he told himself. Safety was moments away.

For the first twenty minutes of the drive, Tover and Cruz shared the vehicle without speaking. Tover had to focus on the view to avoid looking at his former lover, but every time Cruz struggled with the nave over rough terrain, his thigh would tense under those thin cargo pants, and Tover found himself fantasizing about the body hidden underneath those clothes.

Cruz finally broke the icy silence, although the topic surprised Tover.

“My sister. Did she say anything about Feo to you?”

“What? No. She didn't say anything.” After a minute Tover asked, “Why?”

Cruz clenched his jaw and gunned the pedal, jumping the nave over a ravine, bouncing it hard onto the other side of the wet clay road.

“I don't want to see her falling for another fucking soldier.”

“Why not? You're one.”

“Exactly. And I can't count how many times I've nearly died. I don't want to see her mourning over someone again.”

Tover leaned back against the bench seat, accepting the neutral topic. “She's old enough to make decisions for herself, you know.”

“Yeah.” Cruz looked annoyed. “But she can be a real dumbass when it comes to shit like this.”

“Oh, and you're an expert?” Tover snapped. Instantly, he regretted the comment.

Cruz looked at him, his expression searching. But then the nave hit a rock, and he had to turn back to face the road.

“Nice back route,” Tover mumbled.

“The main entrance and orbit launch are monitored by the Pulmon Verde,” Cruz said. “This will wrap around the back to the loading bay. But it's still a long shot.”

“Why are they watching the base?”

“Admission is restricted to those with security passes. We have a team of people noting which Caridans have access to see if we can work with them to get inside.”

“Is the entire mission of the Pulmon Verde obsessed with ruining Harmony?” Tover asked bitterly.

“No.” Cruz deftly swerved as another nave rounded a steep incline. He looked back anxiously but then judged whoever it was a non-threat and relaxed. “We want to save Carida. That's the mission. It happens that Harmony is Carida's biggest threat.”

“You worked for Harmony for five years,” Tover said. “You're telling me, in all that time, you couldn't see any of the good the company does?”

Cruz shrugged. “Its shareholders are treated like gods. And for its own employees? Sure. It takes great care of its executives. Employees like myself, lower on the pay scale, didn't have quite the benefits you were offered.”

Tover shook his head. “I can't believe Harmony personnel were stupid enough to hire a terrorist.”

Cruz raised an eyebrow. “I
am
a trained structural engineer. All of my qualifications are sound. That's why los jefes approached me. They asked me to do the job because of my training.”

“So you became a spy.”

“What would you have done?” Cruz sounded tired. “I'm about to be moved into an internment camp. Everyone I know is going to lose their livelihood, the rights to the air they breathe. I'm told by people I trust that there's more to this story, and they need evidence. Of course I volunteered to get the information for them.”

“You kill people too,” Tover reminded him. “Don't forget you're a fucking murderer.”

“I learned soldiering as part of my training, yes. And I have killed in self-defense.”

“You shot an unarmed man point-blank in the face.”

Cruz stared at him, his jaw working silently. “I didn't intend to do that,” he finally admitted. “But when I saw what they had done to you, I…” Cruz swallowed. “I lost control of myself.”

Tover didn't ask any more questions, and Cruz seemed inclined toward silence as well. The rough road they traveled flattened onto a marshy landscape and bugs flew into Tover's face. He grimaced and brushed them off, appreciating the novelty of doing so. He'd never been anywhere that bugs could haphazardly land on his face and die.