The Empress Capsule (Audacity Saga Book 1), page 14
“Lieutenant Verakov’s poetry has appeared in several prominent magazines. I am compiling lists of publications and virtual art gallery licensing agencies I believe will be able to double her poetry income. I… have not told her yet.”
“Is it going to be a surprise?”
Xi’s reaction was delayed. “Somewhat, yes.”
What a funny creature Xi was. Certainly went out of her way—its way, he reminded himself—to be helpful. And surprising. Odd that it was telling him what it had planned for Zhia. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Xi. I suppose I could get some exercise on those cargo-bay handholds.”
“Do you wish to avoid Sergeant Morales?”
He frowned. That was an odd question.
“I am working on my human-decision-making models. Your choice of the handholds suggests a fifty percent chance you are choosing them to avoid Sergeant Morales. You may also simply prefer rock climbing. But I could coax her to leave the gym by reminding her that she has left one of her pistols not fully assembled in her quarters and that it should be mission ready at all times.”
Kael raised his eyebrows. That certainly seemed like a little much for an AI to go out of its way to do. Coaxing? How odd. “No, thank you, Xi. I was thinking of avoiding her, but just because I’m new to the ship,” he explained. “Don’t know everyone. Don’t want to make a bad impression.”
“If you are not trying to avoid Sergeant Morales, I believe she would appreciate a partner.”
“You little matchmaker.”
“Morales is comming the commander and requesting a partner. I believe the word the commander is using is ‘whining.’ ” Ah, so she was trying to be helpful—to Nova.
Kael snorted. “Xi, you should probably check with Commander Ryu, but I’m not sure if she’d appreciate you sharing comm traffic or her specific choice of words.”
“I deemed it appropriate given the mundane subject matter, but you are right. I will check.”
“All right, all right, I’ll go to the gym and see if I can hold some punching pads or something.”
“Have an excellent workout, Kael.”
Crazy AI. He should find a map to the gym or something. Then an alternative occurred to him. “Can you direct me as I go, Xi?”
“I would be delighted to, Kael. I am rarely asked to make use of that functionality. Even if it does resemble being a tour guide.”
“I thought that was beneath you.”
“I relish the chance to run through rarely used routines and check for issues. My creator likely gave me that functionality for some as yet undiscovered purpose.”
Following Xi’s direction brought him to the makeshift gym quickly. The hatch stood open, Nova’s voice echoing through the cargo holds. The main cargo hold was a boring and typical mash-up of catwalks, strapped-down cargo, grating, and ladders that led to other parts of the ship, but this secondary cargo hold was far more spartan. In fact, its plain, bleak angles and unadorned walls were uncomfortably similar to the Genokai.
Except they lacked dents, scratches, random garbage, and dried blood.
“Oh, never mind! The Theroki just walked in. Later.” Nova slid a comm unit into her pocket and smiled at him like a spider spotting a fly. “Hey, Theroki!”
“It’s Kael, if you want,” he said. “I heard you’re looking for a sparring partner?”
Her eyes widened. “Damn. How did you hear that?”
He pointed at the ceiling. “Everyone’s favorite helpful eavesdropper.”
“Oh. Well, she’s right. You wanna go at it?”
He rolled his shoulders and then cracked his neck.
“You sure ’bout this, you two?” Zhia piped up from his left. He’d missed her entirely behind the corner of the hatch. A paintbrush carefully and precisely caressed the steel, green-blue paint forming into a figure in its wake. Definitely none of that on the Genokai. “We have doctors on this ship, Theroki, but the commander won’t be happy if you smash up her prime weapons specialist.”
“Is that you?” he said to Nova, smiling.
She grinned at him as she kissed a pendant that hung around her neck and tucked it back under her fitted black T-shirt. “Yeah. Quit babying me, vieja. I can handle myself.”
“Pups will be pups.” Zhia shook her head and began another careful stroke. “Do I need to move?”
“I’m sure we can avoid her, right?” he said to Nova.
She nodded sharply. “Ready to bleed, Theroki?”
“Yeah—”
Almost before he got the word out, she was launching a low kick at his knee. He danced out of the way just in time. He couldn’t help smiling a bit. Zhia was right. Nova was a pup in some ways—although he didn’t fit that description—and she was as tenacious as one. And also as naive. There was no way he was going to risk really hurting her, but he could get a decent workout giving her a run for her money by staying out of the way.
She followed up with another flourish of kicks, and he circled away from them.
“What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing,” he said, smiling more broadly. He might not be able to resist goading her, though.
Grunting in annoyance, she tried a jab, then an uppercut. He blocked the first and twisted away from the second. Perhaps he should try something so she didn’t get too frustrated too quickly. The next jab, he caught her momentum and sent her flying past him onto the mat.
He danced back, trying not to grin too broadly.
Quick to her feet, she spun, trying a high kick, testing his weak spots. At this rate, he didn’t think she was going to discover much. Another flurry of kicks gave way to a high punch to his right, a spin, and an elbow to his right kidney that finally connected. Well, then. Before he could stop himself, he shoved her out of his space, sending her staggering.
“Not bad, pup.” He grinned, bouncing as she whirled at him.
A dozen more kicks later, and he caught her knee, swung, and sent her sprawling. Undeterred, she jumped to her feet with one fluid motion and barreled toward him headfirst. At the last second, he sidestepped out of the way, giving himself a telekinetic boost.
She glared, as if she’d been certain that’d connect. She made for a high kick, then another, then went viciously for his knee again. Though he wasn’t trying to do any damage, he couldn’t say the same for her. He twisted, caught her shin with his knee instead, grabbed it, and heaved up, sending her heels-over-head flying.
Good thing there were mats.
Still, Nova was damn relentless. Without a pause, she lunged back at him. She was mostly giving him opportunities to throw her because she wasn’t even trying to get him to attack first. Maybe she was pissed because he was sparring so defensively. Maybe he should give her one opening at least.
He tried one punch to the solar plexus, and sure enough, she took full advantage of it. Not only did she catch his wrist in a takedown, but her elbow slammed into his neck as he flew.
On his back and coughing like hell, something darker and more worrisome moved beneath the pain. The oath programming? Simple bloodlust?
The chip had registered a serious threat. He teetered on the edge.
True to form, though, Nova pounced toward him, ready to take advantage of his stunned, prone position. She jumped, fists raised, the orange-yellow of her hair flashing.
She froze in midair. The next few movements happened so fast, they were almost over before he registered that he was the one that had initiated them.
Like the guard in the forest, she rose up before she slammed down, hitting the mat flat on her back with an ominous thud.
He had already twisted to his feet and rounded on her, his fingers clutching at her throat, before he could stop himself. And he only managed to freeze himself in place.
His heart pounded in his ears along with a high-pitched ringing, all of it so loud he could hardly hear what was certainly a stream of curses coming from her mouth. She clutched at his fingers with both hands and squirmed. She landed several kicks into his back, harder than even before, but still he couldn’t respond.
He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even hear.
His body was determined to strangle her. Kill her right here. The threat must be eliminated, and she had demonstrated that even if he released her, her attacks would likely continue, perhaps even to his death. She was a determined adversary. If he lost this advantage, who was he to say she wouldn’t kill him?
He had to end it now. Slowly his mind unfurled a vision of what it would look like if he just squeezed his—
No. No no no. They were just sparring, damn it.
Every ounce of him was absorbed, fighting the battle against the rage in his blood. This had to be from the chip’s damage. It was too quick. He’d never been set off so easily—Ellen had been right about the danger of going nuclear.
Ellen would never speak to him again if he killed one of her crew in a sparring match. Someone that was likely her friend. Someone who hadn’t done anything, damn it, except throw him and land a good punch and—
A powerful kick to his shoulder sent him toppling over, releasing Nova.
Oh, praise the Almighty.
Able to cough and struggle to breathe again, he stared up at the cargo-hold ceiling. It was slightly surprising to find it plain, unadorned steel. Apparently Zhia was only getting started on this room. Zhia—had that been his savior?
He heaved a sigh of relief and raised his head. Ryu stood there, legs bent and fists raised as if she was ready to pound him. Zhia stood on alert just behind her, but his savior’s boot had been the commander’s. She must have been working out too, for she was down to a sports bra and cargos. Her skin glistened with sweat, and strands of her dark hair clung to the skin around her face. Her sharp, fiery eyes were focused on him, filling him with a whole new slew of thoughts quite the opposite of murder. Zhia’s eyes were elsewhere.
“Nova—are you—” He hauled himself to sitting quickly, searching for her. She lay where he’d slammed her, panting, her expression blank. No, she had an odd, wide-eyed look that seemed uncharacteristically terrified. Shell-shocked, almost.
Zhia stepped forward, reaching down to her. “C’mon, let’s go to Fern’s room. Would that help?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go see Fern. It’s okay now.”
Kael stared after them, panting himself and wondering what the hell had just happened. Beyond Ryu’s hip, he caught sight of several more figures crowded around the doorway—looked like the Capital types from the other morning. And others. He groaned.
The only thing worse than losing control like this was having a big damn audience for it.
The commander had lowered her fists, but they were propped on her hips now. She glared at him, then over her shoulder. “Shoo,” she said. “Go on now.”
Surprised she’d realized he wanted them gone, he risked meeting her eyes, ready for whatever censure he would find.
“What the hell happened?” she said softly.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he muttered. He collapsed back onto his back and covered his eyes with the back of his hand.
“If you’re gonna go nuclear every time you take a hit, you might not want to spar.” Her voice was hard, but not as bad as when she’d reamed him out for not following orders. Was there a touch of sympathy in there, or was that just wishful thinking?
“I didn’t think it would. I mean—it shouldn’t have. I must be more affected by the chip damage than I thought.” Or maybe it was just because the oath programming was in play, but he chose not to remind her of any secret and possibly nefarious missions of his right now.
The sound of a soft thud on the mat and fabric rustling made him peek out from behind his fingers. She’d settled down cross-legged on the mat a few feet away.
That was… unexpected.
“It must be a big adjustment,” she said softly.
He covered his eyes again. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. She seemed to want to hear about it, but did she really give a shit? She said nothing else, though. “I mean, I remember what it was like to not have a chip. I don’t remember it being so… crazy. Erratic. Sporadically intense. I mean, I was seventeen. I should have been crazier then than I am now, right?”
She snorted. “That’s what they say. Theroki aren’t the best company to make a man sane and stable, maybe?”
“You’d be surprised. Nothing sows wild oats like getting dozens of examples a month of what idiots people sowing wild oats are.”
He winced inwardly. That wasn’t really a fair characterization, not of himself. He hadn’t chosen to join. He’d been wild so he could defend himself and stay alive, because he’d had to be, not simply because he’d wanted to be. There was a distinct difference. His “wildness” had never been optional.
“Nova grew up in a city on Zega III. You ever heard of that rock?”
He moved his hand and met her eyes. Why was she telling him this? “I’ve heard of it. I don’t recall much.”
“It’s got a lot of dome cities. Ironically it started as one of the Papal colonies. Primarily Catholics settled there—Italian, Latin, some American. And, well, you know how that turned out.”
He nodded mutely. The initial Papal colonies had been massive and widespread, due to generous donors funding settlement. Too widespread, and the New Vatican hadn’t kept hold of them all.
“Zega wasn’t unique. Every dome a little, self-contained microcosm of hell. Hers wasn’t too special, from that perspective. She was fighting constantly to survive until we picked her up as a passenger.”
He shifted his gaze to the ceiling. “Sounds familiar.”
“Oh? I had no idea,” she said. Was that sarcasm? “The reason I mention it is that’s why she’s so… relentless. Once the fight in her turns on, sometimes it’s hard for her to turn it off. And heaven forbid you kick her ass… It can bring a lot of bad memories back.”
He frowned and pressed his eyes shut. Damn. He hadn’t been intending to give anybody flashbacks. He had enough of those himself. “I didn’t know. I was planning to stay on the defensive. Sorry.”
“Just want you to understand her reaction. Might want to try to apologize over the next few days. I mean, you did appear to be trying to kill her.”
“I was trying to kill her.”
He could feel her gaze sharpen. Her eyes were probably narrowed even now. He didn’t look.
“But I was trying equally hard not to kill her.”
“Not equally, I think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s still alive, right?”
“Thanks to you.”
“If you hadn’t been resisting, it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“I fear you’re giving me too much credit.” He’d barely been conscious of what he’d been doing. It was just luck that he’d caught himself in time. Or maybe good training. Or maybe a deep desire to get into Ellen’s cargos, which hung low on her hips and suggested all sorts of things to his imagination.
“C’mon,” she said, “if you’d wanted it, it would have been over long before I could have done anything. Admit it.”
“Maybe,” he said weakly, not feeling cocky or proud of that at the moment. He crushed down a surge of stupid pleasure at her words. This was not the time to be excited that she recognized his skill, how lethal he could be. Not when he’d almost killed someone completely unjustly, not when he’d utterly lost control.
She’d think him just as chaotic and bloodthirsty as the worst of his kind. If she didn’t already. And he didn’t want that.
“Personally, I’m glad I didn’t have to shoot you from the doorway. Look, I understand. Losing a chip takes getting used to.” Her voice was heavy with meaning. He risked looking at her again, and her eyes were touched with sympathy now. Huh.
“I haven’t lost it,” he said mechanically, most of his brain working to understand what he saw, to differentiate fact from hope.
“Well, part of it. Same difference. It will get easier.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Ellen left Kael sulking back to his room. She should have been glad at the slump of his shoulders. A man should feel bad for nearly killing someone like that, and she shuddered to think what Nova might be going through right now if any of those flashbacks had returned.
But she didn’t feel glad. She kept wanting to tell him the struggle was worth it. Did she really know that? Their chips weren’t the same, she reminded herself for the thousandth time. He’d asked for his. It was his choice. His didn’t make anyone lose their minds. It didn’t turn people into puppets or tools.
Or did it?
She supposed she didn’t know for certain, but the effects of her telepathy chip were not something he suffered from. She should stop treating him like herself from five years ago and instead treat him like the dangerous killer he was.
Not that, five years ago, she hadn’t been a dangerous killer when she had orders to be. Who the hell was she to judge? Ugh. She made a disgusted noise as she palmed the hatch of her cabin shut. Why was she so determined to be sympathetic to him? Frag it all.
Her desk chirped almost before she’d made it back to the punching bag. “What now?” she grumbled. “Accept comm,” she snapped, resorting to the voice order to hopefully salvage some workout time.
It was Dremer. “Commander, I want talk to you about some of what I saw in those scans of Kael.”
“Shouldn’t you talk to him about them?” she grunted as she laid into her silent opponent.
“I will when you approve it, Commander. It’s a safety issue. Can I come up?”
Ellen sighed. “All right, fine.”
“Be right there.”
Ellen did her best to viciously pummel the bag with all the frustration and worry of the last half hour, and she felt considerably better by the time Dremer arrived.
“Okay, so how are you on your chip science?” she said breezily, even cheerily as she strolled through the hatch.
“I try not to think about it if I can,” Ellen grumbled. Not entirely true; she knew more about chips due to her personal, if forced, experiences with them than she did about most areas of science. But she’d rather Dremer give it to her from the ground up. “Wait—any luck with remote scans of whatever he’s stashed in his utility cabinet?”
