Alien in Charge, page 11
part #1 of Warriors of Gehar Series
So much destruction. People dead, lives torn apart. Why?
The datastick might have answers. I desperately hope it does. Hakan Abiri is on his way to the D’arana compound. When he’s here, the three of us—Jehan, me, and Abiri—will watch it.
Luna seems to sense I need comfort. She jumps into my lap and butts me with her little head until I pat her. Then she turns in a circle, searching for the perfect spot. She kneads her sharp little claws into my flesh, purring the entire time, like a small engine, and then she settles down for a nap. If I stop petting her, she lifts her head to glare at me, and so I keep stroking her soft fur.
My comm beeps. Another blocked call. Arten, again? Stars, did something happen to them? My palms turn sweaty. I set the teacup down. My pulse is racing. Bile fills my mouth. With shaking hands, I answer.
It’s not Arten. It’s Micheline Petosa.
Her sharp blue eyes survey me. “Keomi Hearne. I keep trying to kill you, and you keep escaping. You’re quite the little troublemaker, aren’t you?”
The lump of ice in my chest grows. “What do you want?”
She leans forward. “So many things. I want you to understand the seriousness of the situation. I want you to know that your pathetic little career at Space Fleet is over. Blown up, exploded. Just like your ship.” A mock-sympathetic look crosses her face. “Wait, has the news reports reached the Gehar Cluster yet? The deep space vessel Prestige was destroyed in a freak accident, and all the people on board were lost. They were your crew, weren’t they? I’m so sorry, my dear.”
Sometimes, you fall down a deep shaft of fear. You fall, and you fall, and you think there’s no bottom. But there is. I hit it, and I start climbing. My crew is alive. Anders noticed the log discrepancy. Arten hacked it so Micheline Petosa wouldn’t know they’re still alive. They’re in Reganne, which is an independent human world outside Earth Federation control. She cannot touch them there. Not easily, and not quickly.
“Funny,” I tell the smug blonde woman. “You don’t look sorry to me. Did you call me to threaten me? Look at me. I’m not trembling. I’m not afraid of you. What’s the offer, Ms. Petosa?”
Her face hardens. “Give me the datastick, and you will be given a discharge from Space Fleet. You will get to keep your pension.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Don’t play the hero, my dear. It would take no effort for me to destroy your reputation and your life. And if you think your fellow officers will defend you, let me assure you they won’t. You’re from Robben. You’re not one of them. You’ll never be one of them. You might be safe at the moment, but my reach is long, and the Geharrim won’t protect you forever.” She bares her teeth at me. “I’m going to be at some kind of Gehar festival in four days. They’re celebrating thunder or fire or something like that. You’ll be there too. Give me the data stick, and you’ll get to live.”
Micheline Petosa wasn’t wrong. Her reach is long. She has enough people in Internal Affairs that they sent a squad in to rough up my crew. I don’t think Melkor Greyson is in her pay—ironically, transferring me to Gehar inadvertently ended up protecting me—but he won’t have my back. No one in Space Fleet will stand up for me against Petosa Exploration.
My choices are clear. Either I hand the datastick over and resign quietly, or my name gets dragged through the mud, and sooner or later, I end up dead.
And what of the collateral damage? The speeder explosion had blown out the windows of the boutique. Two other nearby buildings were damaged. Thankfully, we managed to evade the tabloid reporters today. Had they been there, someone would have definitely gotten injured or killed. (My ikbasi was ruined, but it seems so shallow to feel sad about that. I still feel a pang when I think about it. The red silk dress had been so beautiful.)
We got lucky today. No one was seriously hurt. We won’t get lucky forever.
My parents told me to show them who I am, but I’m tired. My ship is gone. It’s not as if Space Fleet has a bunch of spare deep space explorers around. It’ll take the manufacturing yards in Anglica a year minimum to build a new one. If they can even get funding. My crew is in hiding. Why is it a virtue to keep fighting? Why is it a sin to give up, to admit something isn’t as great as I hoped it would be?
My career at Space Fleet is over, one way or the other. I should feel depressed. Instead, I feel relieved, like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Someone clears their throat behind me. I whirl around, startled. A man is sitting in a chair in the corner of the courtyard. A cowled hood covers his head and obstructs his face, but his shirt is embossed with the D’arana seal. Luna, the little traitor, is using his lap as a bed. “You know, she was wrong about one thing.”
Huh? “Hi,” I say uncertainly. I can’t see his face, and so I don’t know if we’ve met before. “I’m Keomi Hearne.”
“Yes, I know.” He sounds amused. “You’re Luna’s human.” He pets the cat, his touch gentle. “I’m Adon.”
Jehan’s cousin. All I know about him was that he was hurt in an accident, and he prefers to be left alone. “I’m intruding,” I apologize. “I can leave.”
“Of course not,” he responds instantly. “You’re not intruding. You are a guest in our home.”
Geharrim hospitality. Adon might want me to go away, but he’d never admit it. “What did you mean? Who was wrong about what?”
“Micheline Petosa said that the Geharrim won’t protect you forever. She was wrong. I’ve known Jehan my entire life. I know the hidden parts of him, the parts he doesn’t let the world see. His protection isn’t time-bound. It doesn’t come with conditions. Jehan will protect you with his life.”
He gets to his feet. Luna jumps off in a huff and stalks away. He starts to walk away from the courtyard, leaning heavily on a cane. He’s almost out of sight when he stops. “I heard the entire conversation,” Adon D’arana says. “I heard Micheline Petosa threaten you. I have it recorded. Jehan will back you up. I will back you up, and Dimek will back you up. People as powerful and as rich as Micheline Petosa think they’re untouchable. Prove her wrong, Keomi.”
21
Jehan
She almost died.
Ensconced as we’ve been in the D’arana compound, I’ve been lulled into thinking that Keomi is safe. I’ve been lulled into believing I have time to figure this situation out.
That veil of security has been shredded.
I don’t need to personally check our security arrangements. Navri is in charge, and she’s more than capable of handling this threat. I do it anyway. Hakan comms me halfway through my review. “Poppy Rilfort formally requested Geharrim help with this investigation,” he reports. “I’ve taken Prosser, Moran, and Korval in for questioning.” His voice is grim. “They will talk.”
“Good.” The anxiety is still there, bubbling through my gut. They tried to kill Keomi again. They knew she was under my protection, and they still tried to kill her.
Thoughts of revenge dance in my mind, but with ruthless discipline, I put them on hold. “Prosser, Moran and Korval are pawns. They’re unimportant. It’s Micheline Petosa that is the threat.” Keomi almost died. “She must pay.”
“She’s an Earth Federation citizen, Jehan. She’s outside our reach. Unless you’re suggesting we send assassins after her?”
I draw a deep, shuddering breath. The veil of security is gone, but replacing it is a sense of blinding clarity.
I’d been eighteen when I fell in love with Keomi Hearne. In those days, I’d been young, foolish, and ambitious. The adored youngest child, the apple of the D’arana clan. I hadn’t fought for her; I hadn’t had to fight for anything in my life, and I didn’t know how.
I’m not a boy any longer. I’m a man who knows what he values. A man who knows what is important. Keomi.
“No. No assassins.” Dimek and I had made Clan Umeqoi pay for what Jerik had done. We’d obliterated them. But this time, I will not be as easily satisfied. “Micheline Petosa does not deserve the mercy of a quick death. She will go on trial for her crimes, and she will spend a very long time in a Gehar prison. Here’s what I’m thinking…”
I outline my plan. When I’m done, I end the conversation and stare into space. The shock of the blast has faded, but over and over, my mind returns to the same thought.
Keomi almost died.
“Your Excellency,” Navri interrupts, her voice carefully neutral. “I have the security arrangements under control. Your place isn’t here.”
She’s right. No matter what, no matter how—my place is always with Keomi.
There are days when our lovemaking is soft and tender. There are days when I tease her for hours, until she’s a quivering, shaking mess, desperate for release. Today is not one of those days.
I need to touch her. Hold her. Skin against skin. This is about intimacy. Connection. My soul needs to know that she’s safe and whole and unharmed.
She spreads her legs to accommodate me. I’m almost shaking as I plunge into her. She gasps, and I kiss her, swallowing her breath. Her lips are soft and swollen, and I run my tongue along the seam, coaxing them open.
Her muscles clench around me. I breathe in her hair, and the scent of her fills my lungs. She has a cut on her forehead. She was hurt today. She bled. A cold sense of purpose fills me. Petosa will pay. If the humans do not act, then I will make sure the Geharrim do. Micheline Petosa will not escape my justice.
I want to drown in her. I kiss the inside of her wrist, and her racing pulse soothes the panic in my chest. I clamp my lips over the vein beating in her neck, and some of my fear leaves me. She’s here, and she’s so vibrantly alive.
And I’m intensely aware how quickly that could change.
No more secrets. No more half-truths. No more avoidance of the conversations we need to have. Any moment now, we could run out of time, and I don’t want another instant to go by without her knowing how much I care for her. How much I love her.
Her breathing quickens. The walls of her passage grip me tight. I push her hair away from her face, and I look into her eyes as my movements pick up urgency. She wraps her legs around me, urging me deeper.
We shatter together. I gasp her name as a climax tears through me. I wrap my arms around her and draw her warm body against mine. I could stay like this forever. I never want to let her go.
“Micheline Petosa called me.”
I stiffen. “She did?”
“Mmm. She gave me a choice. I can give her the datastick and quit Space Fleet, or she’ll continue the assassination attempts, and in the meanwhile, she’ll drag my name through the mud.” Her voice is flat. “I guess it’s time to figure out what I want to do with my life.”
Pick me.
“The datastick is the answer.” She knows that, of course; she’s not stupid. “Once we know what’s on it, we can make a plan.”
“We? This doesn’t have anything to do with the Geharrim.” She doesn’t look at me. “You have no obligation to guard me, not any longer. I’ve brought danger to your house. You—”
“Kae,” I interrupt. “If you think I’m going to walk away, you’re insane. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care who started it, but we finish it. Together. You and me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Her voice is small. She’s upset. Of course she is. Space Fleet was her life. She’s been training for it since she was a child. She’d taken the first set of aptitude tests when she was seven. This is everything she’s always wanted. Everything she’s worked for.
And now, it’s dust. Stars, I wish there were something I could do to comfort her. “I want to show you something, but first, I need to tell you something important.” I take a deep breath. “It wasn’t Ambassador Winchester who got us to accept the refugees.”
She looks confused. “It wasn’t?”
“No. The world that’s dying, Nefrid—that’s Mina’s homeworld. The Empress is a blood relative of ours. Mina is family. We are obligated to help.”
She sits up. “You’re saying that—”
“If you ask the Empress to take more refugees, she will. You want her to rehome ten thousand people? It’s not a problem; we have plenty of space. You want her to take more? Just ask for what you want. It will not be refused.”
Her eyes are stunned. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Sometimes, it can.”
“Oh, wow.” Her voice is very quiet. “You said you wanted to show me something.”
“You’ll have to get up for that. It’s in your bedroom.”
“You’re being very mysterious, Jehan.”
“Come on.” I uncoil myself from the bed and hold out my hand to her. We cross the courtyard and enter her room.
Laid out on the bed is my mother’s crimson red ikbasi.
She gasps, her hand covering her mouth. “You got me a replacement?” She throws her arms around me. “Thank you, Jehan. It was a stupid thing to feel sad about, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my dress.” She strokes the fabric. “This is so beautiful,” she whispers. Her fingers trace the small pineapples embroidered with golden thread. “And so intricate. The other ikbasi wasn’t anything like this.”
My heart is in my mouth. Tell her where it’s from. Tell her what it means when you give it to her. “It was my mot—”
There’s a knock on the door, and I hear Kedar’s voice on the other side. “Excellency, Hakan Abiri is here.”
22
Keomi
Two hours later, I know what Micheline Petosa is willing to kill for.
HF-47T was Space Fleet’s biggest find in fifty years. In the initial tests we’d run, it had the potential to be a Grade A habitable planet. There aren’t too many of those. Our ancient homeworld, Earth, was one of them, though it’s long destroyed. As many planets as humans have settled in, we only have two Grade A habitable planets. New Mumbai is one of them. Atlantis is the other.
The other planets are nowhere as ideal. In Anglica, humans can live on only ten percent of the planet’s surface, the equatorial strip. Average daytime temperatures peak at Minus 30 Celsius, and the population there huddles under domes. On Axiom, the atmosphere is so thin that more than ninety percent of the population ekes out a subsistence living as moisture farmers.
We’d won the lottery when we found HF-47T. Careful terraforming would have rendered the entire planet habitable. It was large enough to support six billion humans. We wouldn’t have to beg the Geharrim to accept our refugees. We would have been able to take care of our own people.
And then Petosa Exploration had won the bid.
Terraforming is not a rapid process. It takes fifty years of slow, careful adjustments to get a planet ready for human habitation.
But Micheline Petosa had just become the head of the corporation after a bitter succession fight between her and her brother Fenrik. Petosa shareholders were skittish. She needed to give them a big win.
So she decided to speed things up.
They’d brought forbidden, off-world bacteria to HF-47T. The bacteria had interacted with the native flora and fauna in unexpected ways. The green worms we’d seen feasting on Garen’s body were only one of the horrors Petosa had unleashed.
It’s all here in the datastick. Every shortcut, every safety violation. Every desperate plea from the exploration team for help. The replies from the Petosa corporate office—first, promises of backup, and then, as they realized that they couldn’t roll back what they unleashed, the decision to cut their losses, abandon their exploratory team on the surface, declare a ten-year interdict on the planet, and try again after a decade.
They’d left their team to die. It had been a deliberate choice. They knew too much. Micheline Petosa couldn’t risk anyone finding out what they’d done.
Ah, Garen. What did you get into?
If we hadn’t made the decision to go back for our crewmate’s body, their plan would have worked. But we were there. We saw the worms. I downloaded data off their computer.
If the public found out that Petosa’s greed ruined a Grade A habitable world… There would be fury and so much backlash. There will be consequences. Serious consequences.
They had to kill us.
“There’s only one way to stop her for good,” Jehan says, breaking the quiet that’s fallen over the room. Hakan Abiri eyes us with cool gray eyes, but he doesn’t interrupt. “And I have an idea how we might make that happen. But it’s your datastick, Kae. It’s your choice. If you fight, know that I will be at your side. If you hand her this stick, then I will support that too. Whatever you want to do, I’m on your side.”
Stars, I love him. I walked away from him once. I thought I was making the right choice, the only possible choice. I’m smarter now. The last week has made me realize what’s truly important.
It isn’t being the first Captain from Robben in Space Fleet. It isn’t being promoted to Vice Admiral.
It’s Jehan.
I know what I’m going to do.
Jehan told me I could just ask the Empress to accommodate ten thousand additional refugees, and she would say yes. That sparks a thought. “What’s your idea?” I ask him. “Because I have one too, and I’m going to need your help.”
23
Keomi
It rains the afternoon of the Festival of the Blessed Rain. “A very good sign,” Jehan says. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”
“Do you?”
He shakes his head. “Do I think it’s important to appreciate the important things in life? Yes. Do I think the rain is a portent? No, of course not.” He gives me a cocky grin. “We don’t need luck, Kae. We’ve done the work.”
We have done the work. The last three days have gone by in a blur of hard work. But it’s been worthwhile. The trap is all set.
All that remains is to spring it.
Anusha gives me a hand with the ikbasi. When she’s done arranging the gauzy scarf, I eye myself in the mirror.
