Bring Me the Dead, page 10
“Let me out of these!” He didn’t even know who he was shouting at. He recalled waking while in the life pod, seeing strange figures with large heads standing over him. It was only when one gave him a thumbs-up with a large white hand that he realized the figure was a person in a space suit. But which person? The same one sitting in the shadows of this room, perched on a cabinet?
“I must warn you that I’m an agent of—”
“I know who you are, jackass.”
“Johnson?”
“Who’d you think it was, the tooth fairy?” He leaned forward into the light. “Welcome aboard. Special rates for Institute agents. Twice the usual price.”
“Let me out of these restraints immediately.” Ki-tae made his voice stronger and firmer than he felt. Even with his hands free he knew he couldn’t best Beau in a fight right now, even if he had his…Beau had it. He had Ki-tae’s staff in his hand. Ki-tae felt threatened in a nonspecific way.
“In a minute,” Beau said. “I have to get some stuff off my chest first. First off, don’t act surprised that I, that we, rescued you. You knew we were coming here.”
Ki-tae said nothing. Beau didn’t seem to mind. He continued.
“We had to rescue you because we’ve got to respond to a distress signal. We’ll be happy to drop you off with the next passing ship so you can go home and explain to them how you lost a brand-new Dragonfly. But until then, you have to accept my authority on this ship, okay?”
“Of course.” Humor the entitled bastard.
Beau scowled. “Don’t patronize me, Park. I mean this. Don’t make me lock you up.”
Being locked up would not help him complete his mission. “All right,” he said. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, and as tricky as being on this ship might be, it at least gave him the advantage of being on the inside. His every move would be watched, yes, but he could work around that. “Can you let me out of the restraints, or do I have to swear some kind of oath of allegiance?”
Beau grinned. “No, you don’t, but I am definitely stealing that idea. There’s one other condition.”
“Go on,” Ki-tae said cautiously.
“Stop acting like you think I’m going to make you my bed slave. I’m not a pirate. Cut the bullshit. You want to arrest me. I know it. So quit pussyfooting around. We all know where we stand.”
“That makes having me on board a tad awkward, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll treat it like having the auditors in. Hell, come along for the whole trip if you want. That way I have to keep my nose clean. Crime prevention is better than detection, right?”
Ki-tae didn’t know how to answer that. He wanted to nail Beau to the wall, not prevent him from committing crimes for which said nailing would be a justified punishment. On the other hand, he’d be right there if they found the artifact; he’d know for sure if it was for real.
“You could make a good contribution,” Beau said, “I know you wrote your thesis on the Enivakara. You’re a specialist.”
“I won’t help you steal it,” Ki-tae declared. Beau laughed.
“Who am I stealing it from? People dead for a million years? But I’m interested to hear you say that because it implies you believe it exists.”
He slid off the cabinet he was sitting on and came into the circle of light around the bed. His eyes were dark-circled, his face pale. A man not getting enough rest.
“I…think it’s possible,” Ki-tae admitted. “But that might be wishful thinking. Who wouldn’t want to be able to talk to those who are gone?”
“Like your father?” Beau asked it quietly, and Ki-tae shook himself, seeing he’d let too much show.
“Can you please let me out of the restraints?” he asked.
“After you admit you are in fact out to arrest me.”
“Have you done something I need to arrest you for?”
Beau chuckled. “Can I wait on that one until I can get my lawyer on the comms?”
“Good grief. Yes. I’m out to arrest you—if you’ve done something illegal. Or if you do so in the future. That’s my job.”
“And don’t you just love your work?”
“Let me out of these damn restraints!” The surge of anger surprised him. Fear was at the heart of it. He was tied to a bed; anything could happen to him, and he couldn’t stop it. But there was irritation with Beau there too. All his charm and flirting got on Ki-tae’s last nerve.
“Okay, man, don’t wake up the whole damn ship.” Beau produced a key and undid the restraint first on the wrist closest to him, then leaned across the bed to get at the other one. He could have walked around to the other side, but no, he had to be…Beau.
Ki-tae looked up and over Beau’s shoulder to try to avoid looking at him. Beau’s hair and skin smelled clean and citrusy, like he’d showered recently. It was…distracting. He wanted to bury his nose against the thick blond hair and breathe its scent. He wanted…Beau on him, in him, proving to him he was alive, that he hadn’t died in the Dragonfly crash. The restraint fell away from the other wrist, and Beau straightened up. Like a man in a dream, Ki-tae caught hold of his shirt, keeping him close, started to pull him in, taking orders straight from the hindbrain and not any of the civilized parts. Beau’s eyes widened. He did not pull away.
“Everything okay, boss?”
Beau turned, yanking the fabric of his shirt from Ki-tae’s grasp. The engineer stood in the doorway, looking quizzical, then embarrassed.
“Fine,” Beau said.
“I heard yelling.”
“Just a bit of lively discussion.”
“Right.” He looked speculative. “I’d better get back to the bridge.”
He left. Beau turned back to Ki-tae, but his face fell when he saw Ki-tae was getting off the bed. Ki-tae had used the momentary distraction to pull himself together. While part of him still wanted to pull Beau close, he knew that was a surge of madness in reaction to his near-death experience.
“I don’t think the doc has released you yet,” Beau cautioned.
“He isn’t a doctor. And I’d rather sleep in a bunk than on display in here.”
Beau shrugged. “No skin off my back.”
Ki-tae wobbled as he stood and grabbed at his staff. His hand brushed Beau’s when he did. He ignored the tingle that gave him. Beau let go of the staff and took Ki-tae’s arm.
“You got your balance?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m fine. Where are my clothes?”
“The ones you were wearing were trashed. Hang on.” He let go of Ki-tae slowly, making sure he wasn’t going to fall down. Ki-tae planted his feet firmly and imagined he was a tree with roots deep in the deck plating. He would not fall down in front of Beau Johnson. He managed to stay on his feet while Beau came back from a closet with a robe and a pair of slippers.
“There’s a room prepared for you,” he said. “We’ve put your stuff from the Dragonfly in there. Come on, use your staff like a walking stick and lean on me if you need to.”
Ki-tae did have to do that when they had to negotiate steps or doors with raised lips at the bottom of the frame.
“What happened on your ship anyway?” Beau asked.
“Cascading systems failure,” Ki-tae said. He shuddered to recall it, the ship failing around him. “I couldn’t isolate the cause before I had to get into the life pod. It will have to be investigated.” There was always the possibility of sabotage, but even he didn’t believe Beau would stoop to that.
“We have the coordinates, and we took scans and downloaded all the system logs of the Dragonfly. Feel free to amuse yourself reading those.”
They reached the sleeping quarters, and Beau opened a door—tapping a code into the keypad to make it slide open.
“Code’s 6969,” he said with a look of fake innocence on his face.
“And how do I change it?”
“What, you don’t like it?”
“I don’t like the fact you know it.”
“Didn’t we just get done talking about who’s the boss around here?”
“My boss at the Institute doesn’t have the entry code to my apartment.”
“You’re no fun,” Beau said with a sigh. “You can change it from the inside panel. You know I’ve still got an override code, and so does the doc…Devlin, for emergencies.”
“That’s fine, as long as your definition of an emergency isn’t wanting to catch me in my underwear. Or a pressing need to go through my belongings.” He gave Beau a sharp look. “Unless you already did that?”
“I’m a busy man. I don’t have all day to rummage through your underwear.” He stepped into the room and turned on the light. “It’s pretty basic,” he said apologetically as Ki-tae stepped inside.
It was a bare and dreary little room. It contained a bunk with drawers under it, a built-in dresser, a closet, and a chair in front of a fold-down desk. His duffel bags lay on the bed. There was no decoration on the metal walls. He’d seen cells that were more cheery. His apartment was quite Spartan, but this made it look like the height of decadence.
“It’s fine,” Ki-tae said. “I prefer things simple.”
“Feel free to put up a few pictures, toss some throw pillows around.”
“Perhaps it could be like your room at the Institute. The one that looked as if a bomb had hit it.”
“Be fair—that one time you saw it, a bomb had hit it. Remember Keb Varady? He had a talent for making cherry bombs.”
The one and only time Ki-tae had been in that room had been when, unknowingly, he’d been taken there at the end of a date because there was a party going on. Given that it was Beau’s room, there was probably at least a one-in-two chance there’d be a party happening whatever time you called in. At the weekend that rose to a one-in-one chance.
Ki-tae had stood it for twenty minutes, during which time a girl stuck her tongue in his ear—a new experience he had no desire to repeat—and a freshman had challenged him to a duel, before throwing up and barely missing Ki-tae’s shoes. When he’d finally learned who the host was, he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“Feel free to pop next door to my cabin,” Beau said. “If it feels too soul destroying in here.”
“Your cabin is next door?”
“I have to keep an eye on you.”
“I thought I was a guest, not a prisoner.”
“Not that sort of eye.” When Ki-tae didn’t crack a smile, Beau sighed. “Shower room down the corridor on the left. I’ll leave you to it. Your terminal should connect to the ship’s network with no trouble. Secure systems are off limits to…guests. But you can use the rest.”
“Thank you.” He said that out of politeness, but it reminded him of what he hadn’t said so far, and he felt bad suddenly. As Beau turned away to leave, Ki-tae spoke. “Beau.” Beau turned back. “Thank you. For rescuing me. If you hadn’t come for me…and I know you of all people had no reason to…”
“Code of the sea,” Beau said. “Can’t ignore a distress call, whoever it’s from. But you’re welcome. Get some sleep.”
“You too,” Ki-tae said. He frowned. “You look as if you haven’t slept in days.”
“I’ll be honest, I’ve never fully caught up on my sleep since I stayed up for five nights in a row to finish my thesis.” He winked and was gone, the door closing behind him.
Yes, that damn thesis he said he wrote over the course of a few days—and still made valedictorian. Ki-tae had worked on his for six months. Drafting it several times, editing, getting feedback from his peers, editing again. And had come second in their class. He hated this always poisonous train of thought. It never led to anything good, just to a night of brooding on his feeling of somehow being cheated and wondering if Beau’s social position had something to do with his getting first in class. Or if there had even been some greasing of palms by his family. Or at least a promise of funds for new Institute facilities. But it had been a good thesis. Even Ki-tae could admit that. Maybe even brilliant.
And maybe Beau was working on his thesis for six months, the cynical and suspicious part of Ki-tae suggested. He’d already finished it, and the five days and nights with no sleep had been a performance. A stunt to build on the legend of Beau Johnson. But his insecurity would whisper in the other ear that maybe Beau was that much smarter than him. That he was in fact smart enough to goof around for two years and then pull a superb thesis out of his…out of the air. That everything Ki-tae had to work and struggle to attain came easily to Beau.
He sighed and cut off the thoughts that only ever spiraled in on each other and took him nowhere. He sat on the bed. Someone had made up the bunk, so it was ready to get into and sleep. But his gaze fell on his duffel bag, and he decided he should unpack instead. And then he remembered what was in those bags—assuming they’d brought it from the Dragonfly. He dropped to his knees by the two bags. The floor—bare deck plating—was hard and cold to kneel on, but he ignored that as he unzipped the bags entirely until they opened up flat and the hastily packed items flopped out in a heap. He rummaged, separating things out—clothes, grooming items, and his terminal on the bed, shoes on the floor by the wardrobe. At last he found what he was searching for, in the second bag, crammed in with shoes and clothes, so badly crushed.
A file folder he’d stored papers in. Including…It was still there. He sighed and dropped back to sit on his haunches. They hadn’t found it, the thing that would have given away his ace in the hole. Beau either hadn’t searched thoroughly or hadn’t recognized the significance of the document. It was shuffled in with other papers. He’d probably flicked through them and not spotted what one of them was.
Relieved, he removed the paper and fed it into the disposal unit. In case Beau did decide to use his override code to come in here and search Ki-tae’s things. That reminded him to go and change the ridiculous code Beau had given him.
He spent half an hour putting his things away before sitting at the desk and writing on his terminal, emptying his swirling thoughts from his mind, writing up notes for his report. He finished up with a sentence at the end of a page. Not following on from anything else, just something he felt inspired to write down.
Behind enemy lines.
Chapter 12
“We’re in orbit above the coordinates King gave us,” Beau announced to the galley table. “We should all get some sleep and start the investigation after that.”
“Sounds good,” Marz said. “It’s going to need—”
“Agent Park,” Beau interrupted her, seeing Ki-tae hesitate in the open doorway into the galley. “Come in. There’s a seat for you there.” It was opposite Beau and between Reynolds and Doug. While the others looked at Ki-tae with suspicion and resentment, Beau knew he could seat an octopus beside Reynolds and she wouldn’t mind. Bubble was currently sitting on the offered chair.
“Good evening,” Ki-tae murmured and took the chair, evicting the cat with a gentle push, under Marz’s glare. Doug moved his seat minutely away.
“Help yourself,” Beau said of the food in serving bowls and platters. “We’re informal here. Family style.”
“As I was saying,” Marz resumed as Ki-tae poured himself a glass of water, “it will be a long day, working in space suits.”
“Who’s going to the surface?” Doug asked. “And are you taking the shuttle, or are we landing again? Getting back into orbit took a lot of juice.”
“We’ll take the shuttle,” Beau said. “Myself and Marz will go down.” Professor Reynolds might be more qualified than both of them, but working in a suit for hours would not be good for her at her age.
“I’d like to volunteer.”
All eyes turned to Ki-tae, who was spooning some vegetables onto his plate. “I’m familiar with all the legends about the Enivakara. I know all about the lost star map of Thut.”
“If you knew all about it, we wouldn’t have to go find it,” Marz said.
“I know…what’s known,” Ki-tae said. Doug and Marz both laughed at that, and Devlin joined in. Ki-tae ignored them. “Three people is the safe minimum for a suited mission.”
That was the Institute’s guideline, that was true. “By the book, eh?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe it would be a good idea to have someone along who cares about safety and shit,” Beau said to Marz. “Instead of us two crazy bastards.”
“You trust this guy?” Marz asked. “He wants to see you in jail.”
“Well, I have to be alive for that, don’t I? He is an expert on the Enivakara legends.”
“So is Joy.”
“Oh, my space-suit days are behind me, dear,” she said. “That’s work for you youngsters. I do recall Mr. Park here having good knowledge of the subject. Even if he had some unorthodox ideas about the plague of Ichem.”
Ki-tae stared at her. “I…only spoke about that with you once.”
“Yes, you’d read that silly book Dozy wrote.”
“Dozy?” Beau said, an instant before it clicked. Archchancellor Dozari, the man currently in charge of the academic sector of the Institute.
“Ah, yes,” Ki-tae said. “I’ve since examined the flaws in that theory.”
Joy patted his arm. “I knew you’d see sense. Yes, Beau, you should definitely take him with you.”
Beau shrugged at Marz, who still scowled. “What are ya gonna do? The professor has spoken.”
“Fine,” Marz said. “But I’m not turning my back on him.”
“You’re not his type,” Beau said, provoking laughter from Doug and Devlin, who’d otherwise been looking bored by the talk of lost star maps and silly books. Ki-tae frowned. He helped himself to some chicken.
“Let him walk up front,” Doug said. “Bet there’s a ton of traps and shit protecting this star map. So anything that happens, happens to him first.”
More laughter. Ki-tae flushed but said nothing, just ate a piece of carrot. He stayed silent the rest of the meal, ignoring any attempts to get a rise out of him. As soon as it was done, he stalked out of the mess with a curt, “Excuse me.” Beau went after him and caught up at the bottom of the ladder to the sleeping quarters. He caught Ki-tae’s arm, stopping him on the second step.
