Infinity's End: Books 4-6, page 3
Her other thought was Osborn had lied about her date of birth and her mother had been lost when the Austin was destroyed. Evie had then pulled the genetic profiles of every female assigned to the Austin and still came up empty. None were even close. Evie had spent a frustrating amount of time researching and never making any headway, all the while wanting to ask Osborn why he just wouldn’t tell her. But asking him often sent him into a frenzy, to the point where he would even throw and break things around her. He’d never physically hurt her, she didn’t think he’d do that, but he would threaten her, and back when she’d been a kid it had been terrifying. She’d had to learn the hard way never to bring her up again.
Which left her empty-handed. Osborn had the information buried deep in his brain, and Evie longed to at least know who her mother had been. As a child she’d often daydreamed about meeting her or learning her name, wondering if she had the same dark hair and green eyes as Evie. Had she been a scientist? Or even the captain? The Austin’s captain had been a woman with a distinguished record, and it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think maybe she and Osborn got together at some point. They were in deep space after all, out where few ships had been before.
Evie shook her head as she made her way down the corridor. It was silly to think about these things now; she’d been over them a million times in her head and never made any progress. It was just with her father being sick and on the verge of dying, any information about her mother would die with him. She hated him for being so closed off all these years, for scaring her as a child and never opening up to her. She hated him for pushing her away, for never letting her in and for always prioritizing everything over her. He wasn’t a father at all, just a bully. Why couldn’t she have come from a loving family?
But it wasn’t going to end that way. She was going to be the bigger person and step up. Most people who knew about her situation would probably say it wouldn’t be worth it, that she should just let the old man sit and rot in his old age. But Evie was better than that. She wasn’t going to let that happen without one last attempt at connecting with him, despite how much she didn’t want to do it. It would be difficult, heart-wrenching and possibly crushing but she was going to try anyway.
But she didn’t want to go alone. She was already in an emotionally fragile state as it was and seeing him in a few days wasn’t doing much to help her disposition. She thought about Laura, standing there at the tactical station shooting Evie looks like Evie didn’t know what she was doing. She knew. She’d known ever since back at D’jattan. All the little winks, waves, and smiles Laura gave her made her intentions clear. And it wasn’t that Evie wasn’t interested, but she wasn’t sure she could get that close to someone under her command. Even if she weren’t the superior officer, it had been a long time since Evie had been that close with anyone. Asking Laura to come down to Cypaxia with her was too much of a gamble. There were too many unknowns there. No, there was only one person she could ask, and they weren’t on the best of terms at the moment. But maybe this could help repair something they’d lost. Something they’d both taken an active role in destroying.
As soon as she cleared her head and they’d had some distance from the funeral, she’d ask him. And hopefully he didn’t hate her so much that he wouldn’t say no.
Chapter Four
Cas sat at the bridge Engineering station, literally counting the seconds until his shift was over. He’d modified the console to display a small clock in the upper right-hand corner, otherwise he’d left all the controls completely untouched, despite them not being laid out in his optimal configuration. He could adapt to it. Changing Blohm’s settings felt like a betrayal, and he would just power through. It had been two days since her funeral and instead of getting easier it had only gotten harder. He couldn’t keep his mind from drifting to thoughts of her even when he was working, and he wished to never sit in her seat again. At the same time he never wanted to leave, because it was where he felt closest to her. It was a conundrum he couldn’t understand and it was tearing him apart from the inside.
The clock on the console counted to zero just as the hypervator doors behind him opened, revealing third-shift. He closed down the console and stood, happy to be out of the chair and made his way across the bridge in record time, taking his place in the back of the hypervator before the rest of second shift could follow him on.
“Close doors,” he ordered, and the doors slid closed on the confused faces of the rest of the bridge crew. He didn’t care that they’d have to wait for the next one, he couldn’t stand being around them right now. “Level twelve.” The hypervator obeyed and a few moments later the doors opened on the lounge level and Cas made a beeline for the bar, taking long strides. Perspiration beaded on his brow but all he needed to do was get a drink and calm down. He’d have a few, slow his heart rate and then retreat to his room where he could fall into a dreamless sleep until tomorrow, when he’d have to do it all over again.
Don’t think about that. Just get through the next hour.
One hour at a time. That’s all he had to keep telling himself. Just one hour at a time.
The large doors to the lounge slid open, revealing the rich wood panels of the room. It was cozy with soft yellow lighting, meant to be inviting and comforting. Which is exactly what it was for Cas. He slid on one of the stools by the bar.
“Caspian,” the man behind the bar said. He was older, with a gray beard and mustache trimmed close while his wavy hair was a bit longer. His gray eyes matched the color of his hair and Cas didn’t think he’d ever seen the man smile.
“Martial,” Cas replied, having become very familiar with the man who never seemed to take a day off. Ever since leaving the nebula Cas had been in here at least once and sometimes twice a day. No matter what, Martial was always behind the bar, the same thin lips pursed at his customers as he served them at all times of the day.
“The same?” Martial asked, not moving.
“Yeah.” Cas hid his hands under the bar. He couldn’t be sure they weren’t shaking, and he didn’t need Martial taking notice. The older man turned and pulled a glass and a bottle of Firebrand down from one of the upper shelves and poured a couple of fingers into the glass, sliding it in front of Cas. Cas knocked it back, not even tasting the it. It didn’t even burn anymore. “One more,” he said, pushing the glass back to the bartender.
“You need to talk to someone.” Martial filled the glass again.
Cas shook his head, taking the glass. He didn’t shoot this one, just held on to it. “It’s fine. I used to go through bottles of this stuff. This is nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
His voice was barely above a whisper, but it held a strength Cas envied. Conviction he’d rarely seen in others. He could tell Martial was the kind of person when they told you to do something people normally listened. But Cas couldn’t listen. Who was he supposed to talk to? A therapist? Most people in the Coalition still considered him a traitor, and since he’d resigned again, it only made the situation worse. No, a therapist would only have preconceived notions about who he was and what he should do. He wasn’t going down that route. He’d be fine, he just needed to work through this. Once he was off her station and back to…
Martial narrowed his eyes. Almost as if he could glimpse his soul, see exactly what he was thinking.
“Thanks.” Cas lifted the glass just above the bar then turning and taking one of the seats in the back of the room closest to the windows. He could barely even feel the first drink. He wished he could do this in the privacy of his own room. But his entire stash had been destroyed when his old ship, the Reasonable Excuse had gone up in flames and they hadn’t been back to a non-aligned port since. God, he missed that ship. Maybe it wasn’t the fastest or the nicest or even the prettiest ship out there, but it had been his. He’d made the rules on board, and even though he’d been beholden to Veena’s rule, he’d had his freedom. Or at least the illusion of it. Here he didn’t even have that. Here there were no illusions, everything was laid out for him, right in front of his face. And Cas didn’t like what he saw.
The doors to the bar opened causing Cas to glance up only to see Evie stroll in, her eyes scanning the room. “Shit.” He tried to turn his head, but she saw him before he could. He really didn’t want to talk to her. They’d been tiptoeing around each other ever since before the shuttle was lost and while things were better than they had been, they still weren’t back to normal. Cas wrapped both hands around the glass, holding tight.
“Care for some company?” she asked.
He shrugged, leaning back in his chair but keeping his hands wrapped around his glass. She hesitated, then pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat, resting her elbows on the edge of the table between them. Outside the stars continued to speed by in small, white lines.
“Rough couple of days,” she said, not looking at him.
“Yeah.” He gripped the glass tighter. Maybe if he squeezed hard enough it would shatter in his hands.
“Cas, I don’t know what to say. I’m at a loss.”
She still wouldn’t look at him. “It’s fine,” he said. He wasn’t even sure what she was apologizing about. But it didn’t matter, he didn’t want to talk about it.
“It’s not fine and we both know it. I know you blame yourself, but it was my call. I had to approve the mission. She was my friend too.”
He gritted his teeth and stared at the glass a moment before bringing it to his lips and taking a long sip. He held the burning liquid in his mouth, feeling like it was scorching away the inside layers before finally swallowing. He coughed once. “It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t do anything about it.”
“We can learn from it,” Evie said. “And honor her memory. I know why you didn’t say anything at the funeral.” When he glanced up, she fumbled over her words. “Not that I expected you…I mean no one expected…no one even knew. It’s just…I understood. That’s why I wanted to say something. In case you couldn’t.”
He dropped his eyes. She was being uncommonly fair with him. “Thanks, but I owe Suzanna a debt that can never be repaid. It was my idea to use two shuttles.”
“An idea I approved. We all had a hand in it. Even Box feels bad and all he did was program the messages to the creature. Do you think you’re the only one with guilt?” She’d finally met his gaze, her eyes full of pain and regret. He had been selfish, assuming he was the only one who was allowed to hurt. He shook his head and took another drink.
She wiped her cheeks, even though he hadn’t seen any tears. “Listen, I don’t want to fight about this. She was an important member of the crew. And she was important to you. That isn’t what I came here to talk about.”
He glanced up.
She took a breath and seemed to gather her courage. “Assuming everything at your inquiry goes okay, will you come down to Cypaxia with me when we get there?”
Cas furrowed his brow. Why would she want him to come? “Well, I…”
“Forget it,” she said, making a move to stand.
“No, hang on,” he said, finally releasing his glass. “I’ll go. I just don’t understand why you’d want me down there. You’ve barely even talked about your parents the entire time I’ve known you.”
She sighed. “It’s a complex situation. And it’s better for me if I don’t go alone.” She glanced down to his glass. “It might be good for you too.”
Cas couldn’t help but feel Martial’s eyes on him even though his back was to the man. “Did he say something to you? Did he report me?”
Evie’s eyes narrowed. “Who?” Cas made a quick motion with his head to indicate the bartender behind him. She shook her head. “He didn’t need to. I know you’ve been coming here every day. Don’t forget, the first place I ever found you was in a bar.”
“Very funny,” he said sarcastically.
“I think we both need to get off this ship, even if it’s only for a few hours. And Cypaxia is a beautiful planet. I haven’t been in a few years but I’m not sure you could find more serene views. For humans at least.”
He had to admit the prospect of getting off Tempest was tempting. Box would want to come but he could tell this was delicate. If Evie had wanted both of them along she would have said so. There was something else going on here and he needed to be careful, he didn’t want to accidentally step on a landmine.
“Great,” she said, full of fake optimism. “We reach Cypaxia tomorrow, come get me after you’re done with the board and we’ll head down.”
“You mean if I’m not in jail,” he replied.
She shook her head. “You’ll be fine. If they were going to lock you up they would have told the captain to do it already. They just want you to sweat. And considering the charges I’m not surprised.” She paused. “I’ll make sure your shift is covered while we’re down on the planet. Plus, I think our new engineer is supposed to be arriving while we’re gone. It might make things easier.”
“Thanks,” Cas said.
“Sure.” She lingered a moment then stood and left the bar without another word. She was as upset with having to go down to the planet as he was about Suzanna, or at least it seemed that way. Cas finished off the firebrand and returned his glass to the bar. Martial had disappeared somewhere in the back so Cas just left it sitting there. He took one last look around only to see Saturina Jann sitting in the dark corner of the bar, nothing but a glass of water in front of her. She hadn’t spoken one word to him since the accident that took her fellow pilot’s life. Cas had known she and Grippen had been close, as all the pilots had. Jann stared him down with a look that left him unsettled in his stomach. He wanted to go over and apologize to her but instead lost what little courage he had and retreated from the bar instead, heading for his room and hopefully sleep.
If it would ever come.
Chapter Five
Cas stared at the panel of interrogators sitting before him, feeling that familiar sensation bubbling up inside his stomach. He’d helped build and use a trans-dimensional weapon. That didn’t come with a slap on the wrist. How could Evie think this was no big deal?
“Please state your name for the record,” a clerk on the right side of the large screen said. He was seated at a long table with four others, with a digital recorder in front of him. Cas sat in the large room on Tempest which reminded him of his time on Dren, when he’d been ushered before the parole board right before they attempted to sentence him to a slow death. Had he known that, he would have been more than happy to give the board his honest thoughts about their imprisonment program. But he thought he’d been given a gift of an early parole. It hadn’t taken long to finally realize the Coalition didn’t give gifts. Not without taking something in return.
“Caspian Philip Robeaux,” he replied. “Former ID 1911-80-09.”
“Thank you,” the clerk said.
Cas sat at an empty table with his lone chair, while on the large screen four different people, in addition to the clerk, stared back at him. He needed no introduction as he’d met two of them in person and the other two were some of the best-known faces in all the Coalition. The images had been stitched so it appeared as if they were all seated at the same table together, though Cas knew they were on opposite sides of the Coalition.
“Before we begin,” Admiral Sanghvi, the large, dark-skinned man who had reinstated Cas’s commission and had taken over for Admiral Rutledge on Starbase Eight prompted, “Is there anything you’d like to say?”
“No, sir. Let’s just get this over with.”
“You are accused of using a trans-dimensional weapon in Coalition space,” the person at the far end of the table said. It was Sonya Gill, head of the Coalition Special Investigations and Internal Affairs. Cas didn’t think he’d ever seen a uniform so pressed and neat. That, combined with her short silver hair in an almost trademarked crop made her unmistakable. Her feed most likely came in from Earth, a place Cas hadn’t been back to in a very long time. The rumor was she’d been doing this job longer than anyone and, as she was probably pushing seventy, Cas could see how that could be true. “Do you care to explain yourself?”
“You already have my report,” Cas replied. “Along with the corroborating reports from the rest of the crew. You know what happened.”
“We’d like to hear it from you, if you don’t mind,” Gill replied.
Cas shook his head. “I’m not going to sit here and do this. You have all the evidence. You know the circumstances. If you want to chastise me then do it, otherwise I have somewhere I need to be.”
Gill stood from her chair. “You insolent little shit,” she said. “Time and time again you’ve shown nothing but disrespect for the rule of law in our great Coalition and now you presume to dictate how we will run this inquiry? What would your father say? What would your mother say?” Gill made sure to hang her emphasis on Cas’s mother, a woman long respected in the Coalition for her service and ultimate sacrifice.
“Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the man in the middle of the table said, motioning calm with his hands. Fleet Admiral Dix was one of the most revered officers in the Coalition, not to mention one of the highest ranked. He oversaw all fleet operations from Starbase Eight to Starbase One. Though technically not in his jurisdiction, Cas assumed he’d been called in for this because he’d met Cas in person when he brought Zenfor back from Sil territory. “This is not a simple situation by any means.”
“Admiral, if I may remind you, the…Mr. Robeaux is responsible for destabilizing an entire region of space. Our scientists have determined no less than two sentient species have now been cut off from any possibility of ever leaving their home planets,” Gill protested.
