Heretics (Stars Edge: Nel Bently Book 4) Page 2

  Nel scanned the architecture with curiosity. “So, sound dampening?” Glancing back with a wink, she added, “Any chance this glass is one-way?”

  Lin’s laugh was bright and loud in the small space. “Hardly. It’s treated, so no one can read lips or screens through it, but that’s about it. You’ll have to get your voyeuristic rocks off another way.”

  “If I was an exhibitionist, I wouldn’t care how clear that glass was, Lin,” Nel remarked, cheeks hot with a blush. Despite her devil-may-care attitude, something in Lin’s eyes struck right to her heart when she teased. “It’s just been a while.”

  Lin drew her down onto the couch, hands softening in Nel’s grasp. “I know. The past week feels like months.”

  “And the months like years.” Nel shook her head. “I was hoping to have a bit of recovery time before diving into another mission.” Her mood darkened. “Though if Arnav is right, it sounds like I’ll have nothing to do with Samsara now.”

  Lin’s dark eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Nel. We have a lot of resources up here, and it stings when you’re not considered a necessary one. But I think we’ll need you more when we return to Earth. I know I will.”

  Nel felt her cheeks pink further. “I’m just antsy.” With Lin’s warmth pressing against Nel’s palms, her dusky lips hovering just above the place between Nel’s unkempt brows, she could almost forget a black vacuum yawned beyond the thousands of tons of aluminum and steel. For a moment whatever spinning, baleful monster she woke in Samsara’s heart didn’t glare from the void in her chest.

  “I just have this nagging unease,” Nel confessed. “There’s so much wrong, so much to worry about. I’m exhausted half the time and we’ve done nothing but be debriefed and stare at screens for the better half of a week.”

  Lin lapsed into silence, her gaze fixed somewhere over Nel’s shoulder. Something dark crept into the rich brown of her eyes. “I’m worried too, you know.”

  “About?” Nel prodded. As much as she liked the other woman, she knew better than to assume their concerns lay anywhere close to one another.

  “Odyssey. Whatever happened to Ada. What’s wrong with Dar.”

  “Wrong?” Nel’s curiosity sat up at that observation. She didn’t know Dar well—or at all—and suspected very few people did. But despite the nervous drumming of his fingers the only time they ever exchanged words, Nel wouldn’t have thought to worry about him. He’s her brother. Of course she worries.

  “He’s been removed lately. And he’s not here. Usually he arrives early, officer’s cloak gleaming, and entourage already laughing at his cruel jokes.”

  Nel mimed gagging. “No offense—I get that family is family—but I don’t imagine he and I will ever get along.”

  Lin laughed. “No, I don’t think many people I’ve been with did.” Her expression sobered. “Still, it’s unlike him. And gala aside, this feels tense.”

  Lin’s gaze dropped to the deep V-neck of Nel’s vest. “You’re wearing the bolo I gave you.”

  Nel grinned. “I figured it would blend in nicely here.”

  “It looks nice on you.” Lin’s beige fingers lifted it gently, her dark eyes unreadable. “I’d love if you wore it more often.”

  Nel frowned but pushed the voice in the back of her mind away. “I will. Wore it on Samsara a bit. Just so worried to lose it—I’m rough on my things.”

  “I’d say you are at that.”

  Whatever followed Lin’s suggestive quip was overshadowed by the appearance of a familiar Chilean face by the projection panel just past the private chambers. Nel dragged her attention back to Lin to find the other woman’s dark brows were arched in poorly concealed amusement. “Sorry, I just—”

  “Oh, I see, you’re not interested in mingling with anyone but your fellow earthlings,” Lin teased.

  Nel slipped her hand around the back of Lin’s neck and pulled her down for a hard kiss. The moment their lips softened into the invitation for more, however, she pulled away. Lin’s eyes glittered and passion flushed under the pearlescent makeup on her cheeks. “I’d like to remind you that you and I did far more than mingle,” Nel murmured. “If I wasn’t determined to set eyes on one Emilio Sepulveda, apparent interstellar traveler, then I’d take you up on that offer right now.”

  “Go, I know he’s the real reason you showed up tonight.”

  “If I’d known about the dress, I wouldn’t have been as reluctant. But I’ll find you later, alright?”

  “If you’d known about the dress it wouldn’t have been nearly as effective,” Lin theorized. She stepped back with a smile. “And I’m supposed to see Dar later, go over some things, but tomorrow?”

  Disappointment flickered, but Nel ignored it. She could honestly use a decent night’s sleep. “Well, if you’re free, come find me, ’kay?”

  “Promise. I’ll look for any topiaries or statues with an orange shadow.”

  Nel rolled her eyes and slipped from the room before she lost sight of Emilio. For now, the wall displayed scattered stars. A looming glow in the top corner told her planet rise—or gate-rise, she supposed—was imminent. The faint gold light cast Emilio’s weathered face into stark relief. She sidled up to the projection, but her determination faltered. If she stared long enough, would she catch the echoes of Chile’s hills on his features?

  His dark eyes flicked toward her and his broad mouth curved in a subtle smile. “Bently.”

  “Hey.” Nerves overwhelmed her and her hands clenched. Fuck it. She closed the distance, wrapping her hard arms around him. The structured, faded fabric of his outfit hid bone-thin shoulders and what was once a barrel chest. “Sorry.”

  She made to pull away, but his arms locked around her for a moment longer. He smelled of fresh air and warm sun. Did all those born of Earth smell of the sunshine and soil and rain their bodies incorporated into their bones?

  “It’s nothing.” When he pulled away, Emilio’s eyes held a new softness. “It’s good to see a familiar face.”

  Nel snorted, following his lead and slipping into Spanish. “Few and far between out here.”

  “It’s good to see you,” he clarified a moment later. “Never been this far out.”

  “Me neither,” Nel remarked, taking a sip from the glass he offered her. It was sharp and sour, but from what she could tell, devoid of alcohol. “But I didn’t have a fleet of—” she frowned and borrowed the English word before returning to his native tongue, “—spaceships at my disposal. Or a gate.”

  His smile bloomed and his gaze settled on the projected image before them. “I wondered how long you’d wait before bringing that up.”

  “I admire the theatrical arrival, but it left me with more questions than answers. I think I’ve been pretty patient, waiting almost a week.”

  “Only you would think a week was indicative of patience.”

  She glanced over, looking at the new lines on his face, and was abruptly aware of the new years separating them. “How are you? Truly? Last I saw you were being bundled into a prison, framed for Lin’s murder spree.”

  “Ah, well,” he drew a slow breath. “Cryo is another layer of privilege, I suppose. Removed from pain and time and age for however long.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I guess like a lot of privilege, it doesn’t always feel like it from this side. Missing moments. Years. Gaps getting bigger.” Nel glared down at her soft boots. Anger sizzled down her limbs and she wished she could rip all the ethical, clean, sustainable fabric from her skin and just be imperfect and human again. The feeling passed after a moment and she sighed. “You didn’t answer me.”

  “I’m well enough. Reeling a bit, in the wake of all that happened on Earth. But there’s not enough time to really focus on it. Just running forward hoping whatever we’re racing toward isn’t worse than what’s closing behind us.”

  “I know that feeling intimately.”

  “I imagine so.” His smile returned. “But look, we’re both h
ere and alive and have enough breath in our lungs and fire in our veins to keep running for now.”

  Nel’s concern nagged at her manners. “Emilio, about Earth going dark—”

  “I told you when you first boarded—Earth is alright. Not safe, not yet. But with your help and IDH’s resources, she might be.”

  “Right.” Her eyes fixed on the growing glow of the gate as it rose into view on the projection. “Why were you the only one I could get through to?”

  “Because radio silence is all that’s protecting them for now. We’ve broken it only a few times. They’ll explain all in detail tomorrow during the briefing—I assume you’ll be there?”

  “If they don’t invite me, I’ll just show up anyway.”

  He snorted. “I have fewer answers than anyone wants, I’m sure. But I do have a plan. While you all were up here playing Starship Troopers, some of us were cleaning up your mess.”

  “My mess—”

  “IDH’s mess, then.”

  “I’m not IDH,” Nel muttered, glowering at the empty cellulose glass in her hand. It was already softening in the warmth of her palm. “Don’t know if I ever will be.”

  “Looks a little different from where I’m standing.”

  Longing tugged her heart again. Maybe there was no place she would ever fit again, not without Mikey as her counterpoint. “Think I’ll be heading home soon?”

  “For all our sakes, I hope so.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “We need people like you. Like me.” He fixed her with a pointed stare, as if he had reached into her gut and pulled out her deepest fear. “People who don’t quite fit in either camp.”

  “At last!” The voice cut through what Nel realized had been whispers.

  A panther of a man padded from around the corner. If IDH had business casual, Nel guessed his attire would have fit perfectly. The soft glimmer of an electrosuit peeked from under the gathered sleeve of his shirt. Nel would have bet cold cash that it was real linen. Is that a sign of wealth or poverty out here?

  Light brown skin gleamed under the gentle lighting. What hair he still had was dark and shorn close to his long skull. His hand was elegant against hers as they shook. “You are the ineffable Dr. Annelise Bently.”

  “Please, just—”

  “Call you Nel?” His gentle smile broadened before he turned to Emilio beside her. “Of course. And this is the incredible Munshi Emilio Sepulveda. An honor, sir.”

  Warmth faded from Emilio’s eyes. “And you are…?”

  Other than a simple metal pendant, the man wore no decoration or hint at any rank. “Ah, forgive me. My excitement gets the best of my manners. Harris, admirer of both your work. It takes a mighty man to counter IDH and still receive an invite to an event such as this.” His long fingers captured the whole affair with a single gesture. “I hope you feel welcome here. Your opinions are greatly appreciated as we navigate these waters.”

  Nel found a smile on her face. His gentleness reminded her of Zach, excitement tempered by perhaps twenty years. “I’m just glad IDH is broadening their metaphorical horizons.”

  “Will you be coming to the Committee tomorrow? Surely, we would benefit from the account of one who contributed so much.”

  “I don’t think I’m invited.” Nel frowned. Until Emilio mentioned it, she hadn’t known there was any meeting. “I assume Lin will relay whatever I need to know—they don’t seem overly fond of me. Or my temper.”

  Emilio attempted to conceal his snort beside her. “Is anyone?”

  She glared at him.

  “Oh, a pity. Many hands, light work, two heads and all that.” His broad mouth curled and Nel caught a glimpse of the carefully concealed cleverness behind his angular face. “I was wondering if I might borrow our dear Munashi Sepulveda for a bit. I have some questions we need not bore the important people with tomorrow.”

  Disappointment shuttered Nel’s excitement. But I have questions too. She pulled a carefree grin on instead of arguing. “Of course! But Emilio, let’s find a time to catch up soon, alright?”

  “There’s time on the journey home.” He patted her shoulder, wordless ellipses transferring from his hand to her bones. Nel watched the two men climb the ramp to one of the alcoves suspended over the forest. Her eyes found Arnav surrounded by several people Nel didn’t know who oozed power. It was the last place she wanted to be, but she’d brave anything for another sip of starshine.

  TWO

  Phosphorescence eased from the golden warmth of candlelight to the soft sage of forest dapples. Even here, in the memorial bay, modern efficiency blended with sacred tradition. A few dozen people were gathered, and Nel slipped into the back of the bay, wordlessly finding Lin.

  “Hey,” Nel murmured. “Glad you made it.”

  “They moved the briefing to accommodate it, thankfully.” She didn’t meet Nel’s eyes. “I’m sorry they aren’t including you. I’ll tell you everything they say tonight, though, promise.” The woman squeezed her hand but let go a moment later to stand at what Nel assumed was attention. Her sharp jaw jutted out, muscles bunching. Was she biting back tears?

  Nel dragged her attention to the gleaming canisters set along the innermost wall. There were three, engraved with names and dates. Words too small for her to read spiraled over the metal. Epitaphs perhaps, or memories.

  Nel caught sight of Arnav at the front. His head was bowed and his shoulders shuddered. Grief welled in Nel’s chest, overwhelming the numbness of oversleeping, the fog of a hangover. She was exactly where she needed to be. These were your people, your crew, for a time.

  Someone emerged from the crowd and pressed their hand to Gretta’s canister. They could have been the woman’s double, but for another few inches in height and the thin blonde braided beard. “I am Klus Wagner and I stand for Kapten Gretta Wagner. I share the blood from which she was birthed, and so I will commit her back to our community, to the living we create, and to the dreams and hopes we protect, here and among the stars.”

  Murmurs rose as the crowd repeated the last five words. Klus’s massive shoulders rose in a long breath, falling as he exhaled and depressed the lever beside his sister’s coffin. Hydraulics hissed and the coffin sank into the wall. In a year each of them would be spread across the central forest, feeding the insects, plants, and fungi that were their bread and breath.

  Next a row of officers read the achievements for Kapten OrSo, and a weeping older woman, his mother, relinquished her son to be recycled within the space station’s walls. As the coffin disappeared, the bay door opened soundlessly, and Dar entered. If he had attended the gala, Nel would have assumed he still wore his gala finery. His officer’s robe was immaculate and as dark as the circles under his eyes. He moved to stand beside the final body. A silent moment passed with his hand resting on the last canister.

  “I am Komodor Muda Dar Nalawangsa, I stand for Dr. Paul de Lellis. I am the bond to which he was welcomed. The blood from which he was birthed is far, unable to join us today for safety, to protect all of us from the same terror that took Paul from us. Instead, I will commit him back to our community, to the living we create, and to the dreams—” His voice broke, but when he began again his words rumbled with rage. “To the dreams and hopes we protect, both on Earth and here among the stars.”

  This time, Nel’s whisper joined the affirmation rising around her. “Here and among the stars.”

  Dar drew a simple strand of red rosary beads from his suit. “Like many of us, Paul carried a second faith from the doctrine of our mission here. He was a Catholic man, and his family on Mugdha 3 will be offering his funerary rites in their community’s prayer center at this time. I ask that you stand in silence for a moment to honor their grief and Paul’s sacrifice.” Dar’s face was rigid as he mouthed words, caressing each bead before moving on to the next.

  Nel bowed her head, not looking up until she heard the lever depress and the casket click into the wall. As different
as their worlds were, grief was universal, loss a quiet shroud over life. The crowd let out a collective breath and Nel glanced up at Lin. Her face was pale and her smile wan.

  “It’s odd, usually the rear wall is lit with family and friends stationed elsewhere to stream in. I always felt that was isolating. Sad. But I think missing it entirely is worse.”

  An errant fear of missing so much—funerals, births, weddings—while out here or in cryo flashed through Nel’s mind. “I think so, yes. Have you gone to many? Funerals, I mean?”

  “A few. Mostly remotely, though.” She frowned at her wrist. “Ten-minute warning for the committee meeting, and I gotta lose the fancy coat.”

  Nel caught the woman’s cheek as she made to drop a kiss on it, searching Lin’s eyes. “Hey, I’ll see you later, alright?”

  “Promise.”

  Nel was almost back to her room when her own wrist com flickered into life. It was an internal message from Phil, devoid of anything other than a projected path to the high-level conference rooms and a single line:

  DON’T BE LATE, DON’T GET CAUGHT.

  She grinned. Though she missed his unnerving conversation, she’d settle for silent help if it got her closer to the action.

  The committee hall was packed when Nel slipped through the side door. Nel’s stare settled on Lin’s shoulders, drawn as if by the gravity of the other woman’s appearance. She turned, scanning the crowd, and Nel pressed back against the wall, putting the bulk of a tall man between herself and discovery. As much as she wanted to take the empty seat next to Lin, there were still many rules the Letnan refused to break, especially now while on tenuous probation. Because of me.

  Many of the debriefings had been held in smaller rooms, filled with scientists and medics. Already she recognized more than a few high-ranking military officers. But no Emilio?