Trickster (23 page)

 
Now things were different.

 
Now he was in charge of a crew of people who looked to him for command decisions. He had to come up with plans and strategy, and figure out who would be the best person to implement them. He had to keep a calm expression at all times, since an agitated Father would upset his Children.

 
At least here in his and Ben's quarters, he didn't have to hide the fact that he was worried. A dozen things could go wrong with the current plan. Elena Papagos-Faye could figure out "Devin Reap" wasn't a real person. She might not be attracted to him, and Kendi would have to come up with a brand new angle. She might actually entice Ben into bed with her.

 
Kendi snorted. Absurd. Ben would never do such a thing. Sure, Kendi knew Ben had been involved with women, and he had a suspicion that one such affair had been serious. Kendi had never asked. After all, they'd been on-again, off-again for years and hadn't become a permanent couple until just before the Despair. It wasn't any of Kendi's business what Ben had done during their off-again times. But Ben wouldn't go for a woman now. The very idea was ridiculous.

 
Even if the woman was beautiful. And wealthy. And sophisticated. And powerful. And--

 
And just shut up
, he told himself.

 
The door slid open and Kendi looked up. A man with stylishly-cut auburn hair and a tight green shirt that exactly matched his eyes entered the living room. Relief flooded Kendi. He wanted to snatch Ben into a ferocious hug, scoop him off the ground, and sweep him into the bedroom. He resisted the urge. For one thing, Ben weighed more than Kendi could safely lift.

 
"All life, you look incredible," he observed instead. "We should turn Harenn loose on you more often. So how'd it go, Mr. Reap?"

 
Ben sighed and dropped onto the couch next to Kendi. "Those poor Pit animals. It makes me want to throw up."

 
"What about Papagos-Faye?"

 
"She's worse. Every time that woman looks at me, I feel like a side of beef hanging on a hook. When I turned her down, I thought she was going to bop me over the head and drag me home by the hair. God. She makes me go all cold inside." He shuddered.

 
See? Told you it was a stupid idea
.

 
"Lucia did say Papagos-Faye likes to win," Kendi said aloud. "And that she likes to own things. Between Lucia's shadowing and your computer snooping, we got a pretty good profile on her. You probably surprised the hell out of her by turning her down."

 
"She's already run a background check on me," Ben said, tapping the side of his head. "My implant warned me that someone checked the files I inserted into SA's consultant records. So now she knows that Devin Reap is single, has no kids, hasn't gotten any consulting work in a while, and is the sort-of survivor of a terrible disaster."

 
"Good. We still need her key." A wash of emotion crossed Kendi's face and he made no attempt to hide it as he glanced involuntarily toward the window. The module that housed the Collection protruded from the station wall only a few hundred meters away. He had never been so close to his family and yet still so far away. He wondered what they looked like, what their voices sounded like. It had been over fifteen years since the three of them had run through the broken streets of Sydney, but he still remembered with perfect clarity the games they had played together. Decrepit, abandoned houses became pirate ships and smuggler caves. Graffiti became sacred Aboriginal writings. Chunks of broken glass became opals of immeasurable value, treasures that needed to be hidden from the mutant whites who wanted to take them away and enslave the Aboriginal people. As children, they had no idea that Australian history would repeat itself in deep space.

 
"You're missing them again, aren't you?" Ben asked.

 
"Yeah." More emotions rose and Kendi set his jaw against them. "I want them
out
, Ben. And more than that--I want the bastard who brought them there punished. Todd said that the Collection was all Edsard Roon's idea, his program, his everything. I want him to suffer for that. I can't get the slavers that broke my family up, but I can get Roon. I want him to lose everything, just like I lost everything, like Martina and Utang lost everything."

 
"I don't blame you." Ben put a gentle arm around Kendi. "But you may have to be content with just getting them out. Edsard Roon has all of SA's resources working for him, and we only have the resources of this one ship. If they catch us in any of this, every one of us, including Bedj-ka, will quietly disappear into the recycling vats or into the Collection itself."

 
"I've been thinking about that," Kendi said, leaning into Ben's embrace. "Maybe we should find a way to send Harenn and Bedj-ka back to Bellerophon, get them out of the way in case something goes wrong."

 
"Harenn won't go for it. She still feels guilty about saving Bedj-ka first. She wants to see everything through, make sure you find your family."

 
Kendi sighed. Ben was right--Harenn would hate the idea of being sent back home, but to ensure the safety of her son, he should order her to go. The problem was, he needed Harenn's skills and was afraid he wouldn't be able to rescue Martina and Utang without her.

 
There was another factor as well. Kendi was adult enough to admit that, despite all his assurances to the contrary, he was damned angry at Harenn. He knew it was irrational, that there was no way for either of them to have known that rescuing Bedj-ka first had been a mistake, that if they had known, Harenn would have been the first to insist that they go after Martina and Utang right away. All this his head knew. The trouble was, his emotions weren't listening. Did he really need Harenn's skills that badly, or was he keeping her around out of spite? He wasn't entirely sure.

 
"I should go change," Ben said, letting Kendi go and starting to get up. Kendi caught his arm and stopped him.

 
"Why? You look amazing, Ben. Green eyes suit you. So does the darker hair. And the clothes."

 
Ben's face reddened but he didn't object when Kendi pulled him back onto the couch. Kendi sat on Ben's lap, facing him, and kissed him hard. Kendi felt his own desire rise. He wanted to be close to Ben, feel his body moving against his own. His hands moved behind Ben and pulled the other man closer with an ardor that surprised both of them. A maelstrom whirled around Kendi--love, desire, fear, anger, helplessness, frustration, joy. He had been holding it all for so long, and he focused everything into a single, powerful kiss. When they parted, Ben was panting.

 
"What's this all about?" he asked.

 
Kendi wanted to tell him, but it was all such a tangle that he couldn't find the words. He wanted to merge with Ben, become a single person, never be apart from him again. But all he could say was, "I don't want you to start getting ideas about Papagos-Faye."

 
"No fear of that."

 
"Let's make absolute sure."

 
Elena Papagos-Faye drummed her fingers on the cheap tabletop of the Pit restaurant with ill-disguised impatience. Devin Reap was a mystery, an enigma. His consultant file with SA was annoyingly brief. He had only been on the station for a few months. Before that he had worked tech for a passenger ship named the
Merry Widow
, but it had apparently gone into slipspace just before the Despair hit and had never come back. Devin Reap had, by sheer chance, not been aboard because he had been taking a two-week vacation. That was all. Because he was a consultant who didn't work with classified equipment or software, SA didn't keep an extensive background file on him. It didn't even list where he lived--just a com-link code identical to the one he had given her. A high-level check with Domestic hadn't turned up an address, but that wasn't uncommon--Reap was likely pirating quarters with someone. It was a common scam. SA partly based its rents on the number of people living in a given place, so two people who officially shared an apartment would one day come home to a rent hike, wiping out the main reason for putting up with cramped living quarters in the first place.

 
The fact that Elena couldn't learn more about Devin made him even more intriguing. Elena was someone who made her living manipulating information and data, and not having much information on this guy tantalized her. He certainly hadn't volunteered much about himself last night during their second date at the Pit.

 
Elena smiled, remembering. Their time together yesterday had been filled with
entendres
that varied from double to quintuple. They had placed some bets and cheered the gladiators together, and Elena had used the latter activity as an excuse to rub up against him in the press of spectators. Devin seemed to be receptive during the entire thing, even flashed her a shy, boyish smile when her hand stole down into a more . . . private area. But when the Pit closed down for the evening, he had thanked her for a fun time, given her a quick peck on the cheek, and vanished.

 
She checked the time on her ocular implant. He was three minutes late. This was their third date in as many nights--if you counted their first meeting as a date--and Elena had decided that tonight she would get him into bed if she had to put him in chains. And wasn't that a lovely thought? Watching those muscles of his strain against the metal, hearing him cry and beg as she held back from the one thing that he wanted. That all men wanted.

 
"What are you thinking about?" a familiar voice asked. Devin slid into the seat across from her in what they had already come to refer to as "their" booth at the Pit. The fights hadn't yet started, and the place was quiet.

 
"You," she replied. "You're late, you know. I'll make you pay for that."

 
"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

 
His tone was absolutely serious, with no trace of innuendo. His wide, green eyes suddenly filled with tension, as if he were afraid she really were angry. God, he was so wonderfully malleable.

 
"I'll think of something," she murmured, and slid her foot up his calf.

 
He gave that shy smile that made her burn inside. "Have you ordered yet?"

 
They called for drinks and Devin asked her how work had gone that day.

 
"Well, I can't talk about much," she said. "Just about everything I do is classified over there. You know, Devin, I could probably get you a job within my project. Something on the periphery. You said you haven't been offered any work in, what, a week? Two?"

 
"Yeah. The post-Despair recession. There isn't much work for us independents, with SA laying off its regular workers left and right. I have some savings, but they're going fast."

 
"Play your cards right with me, and I can get you something more permanent. And higher paying." Elena gave him a long look over her glass. "You won't have to pirate living space with someone else anymore."

 
Fear filled his face. "How did you--I mean, I'm not--"

 
"You don't have to worry, Devin," she said, patting his hand. So her theory had been correct. "I won't tell anyone your little secret. If you keep me happy, that is."

 
"I'll do my best," he said, still shy. "I like you a lot, Elena. You're smart and beautiful and . . . and sexy." The last word made him blush furiously.

 
She leaned across the table and stroked his well-muscled forearm. "Then why don't we go back to my place and discuss . . . new positions?"

 
"But the fights haven't even started yet," he said. "I mean, that Leeland guy is supposed to have his new gladiator up tonight. Everyone's talking about it. And we haven't eaten yet."

 
He looked a little scared. Too much too fast? Elena wasn't sure. She decided to back away, get a couple of drinks into him. A little tip to the bartender would make sure his drinks contained more than the usual amount of alcohol, though she didn't want him
too
drunk.

 
"Of course," she said. "Anticipation only makes it better."

 
They talked about nothing in particular as the Pit filled up and the first fights began. They watched a few on the in-house holographic display, and Devin pounded the table during the good parts. Elena watched in fascination. He was normally so quiet, but the gladiator fights seemed to bring out the screamer within. She wondered if it was the same for him in the bedroom.

 
After their dinners arrived, Elena asked, "So tell me about the
Merry Widow
."

 
Devin paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "The
Widow
?"

 
"Your ship," she said. "You were supposed to be on board when it left port but you decided to take a last-minute vacation instead. Lucky for you."

 
He set the fork down, food untasted. "Yeah. Lucky."

 
"Tell me about it," she commanded.

 
"What's there to tell?" His eyes stared across the room at nothing. "I worked on the books, kept the payroll people happy. The
Widow
made a regular shuttle run for passengers and cargo around the Five Green Worlds. I decided I needed a break, so I sat the last one out on Klimkinnar. Then the Despair hit and the
Widow
never came out of slipspace. Someone on the crew probably went . . . you know . . . and that was the end of it."

 
"You had a lot of friends on board," she said. "And someone special?"