Edge of Dark Page 4

  Outside, everything on the open deck had been tied down or stowed. The kitchen counters were spotless. In the bedroom, Yi moved like a cat, stuffing loose objects quickly and very neatly into drawers. Jason looked up from the side of the bed where he was tying a bulging backpack to the foot of the bed.

  When they were busy with the jalinerines below, Chrystal hadn’t been able to quite make out the second message, but up here it was clear. She recognized the Head of Security. “Next ships are approaching. Defensive measures are underway. All nonessential staff are ordered to strap into acceleration couches.”

  Chrystal froze, suddenly cold. “You were right,” she whispered to Jason.

  “Hurry,” Yi hissed.

  They chose their usual sleeping positions, with Jason and Yi on the far sides and the two women in the middle. Chrystal was next to Jason and she helped him dig for the straps, which they’d only used twice in the last three years. Both times, they’d been part of planned drills, and Katherine had laid the straps all out the morning of the drills after she made the bed. Now they were wadded and stuck in crevices on the sides. Little pouches in the beds hid the middle straps, and Chrystal broke a fingernail getting one out.

  Another round of alarm and messaging happened as they settled, and then re-settled when they discovered that Katherine had an arm trapped and needed to shift yet again.

  Chrystal’s little finger touched the side of Jason’s hand, and one foot brushed Katherine’s foot. Otherwise they lay all in a row, looking up. Their breathing filled the cabin.

  Katherine was the most prone to talk about her feelings. “I’m scared.”

  “It’ll be okay.” Jason’s answer to everything.

  “From your lips to the universe,” Katherine whispered. “They sound serious.”

  Yi used his calmest engineer voice. “I heard rumors about restlessness at the Edge a week ago, in the gym.”

  “You didn’t tell us?” Chrystal struggled not be annoyed.

  “The Ice Pirates will get you isn’t exactly a new story,” Yi said. “This didn’t seem any scarier than usual.”

  “They can’t hurt the High Sweet Home.” Jason sounded calm, almost zen. “Our defenses are good.”

  Katherine fretted out loud. “I’m still worried about the animals. Maybe we should have caught Sugar.”

  “And done what?” Jason asked her.

  “Aren’t you worried?” she asked him.

  “Not much.”

  Which meant he was very worried; Jason the invincible would usually have said, “Not at all.”

  The lights went out.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHARLIE

  The sky was bruised red and purple by the time Charlie neared the single ranger outpost on Goland. Wilding Station had been built on a high plain and surrounded by tall, strong fences to keep it safe from human and wild predators alike. It even had an aircraft-detection system, which beeped friendship at Charlie as he approached. A wicked wind sheared right off of the High Resort mountain range and plunged to the valley floor at just the right angle to trouble the skimmer. The autopilot had to correct so hard and often to manage the wind that he almost missed Jean Paul standing beside the hanger door with his arms crossed.

  Jean Paul helped him run through the shutdown sequence and lock up for the night. They worked in silence, which suited Charlie. There was a lot to consider: The savage beauty of the rakul, the unfair shooting of the tongats, the boys’ loss and stupidity, the look on their mother’s face when only two of them climbed off the skimmer.

  As they walked back to their shared quarters, the wind felt like a cold knife at Charlie’s backs, strong enough to make him feel light and vulnerable. When the door closed behind them, Charlie asked, “Is that what lower gravity feels like? Like you’re floating a tiny bit and you’ve lost your friction?”

  “That wind might have stolen two percent of your weight.”

  Charlie shivered. “What happened to the family?”

  “If they leave tomorrow, empty, they won’t face charges.”

  “That’s good. I liked one of the kids.”

  Jean Paul raised an eyebrow.

  “I did.”

  “Good thing you’re in a liking mood. Someone picked up your highest rate. Babysitting job.”

  Charlie felt the scowl cover his face and took a deep breath to dismiss it. “I’m not done here yet.” He had already planned a more direct route back to the rocky area where he’d found the boys in hopes of getting rakul pictures. He hadn’t had a hand free for his camera, and the shots from his wearables almost never came out any good at all. He probably had low-res pictures of the rakul’s left foot.

  “They specified you.”

  “You haven’t answered yet, have you?”

  “Of course not.” Jean Paul followed him through the central hall. The ranger station where they lived provided enough shelter to keep the wind from the backyard.

  “Turn it down. Surely Manny can use me rangering out here more than me squiring in town.” Charlie opened the kennel door and ninety pounds of three-legged tongat stood on her hind legs to greet him, pushing at his shoulder so he had to take a half step back to brace himself. Her left front leg was missing at the shoulder, which was probably the reason he had been able to capture her. Or perhaps save her was a better word. Although who had saved who wasn’t entirely clear—he loved the beast as completely as she loved him, the bond so close he swore she knew his every emotion.

  Cricket licked his cheek, her impossibly long tongue sliming his face in moments. He laughed. Behind him, Jean Paul said, “You might need the extra pay to feed that thing.”

  “She’s not starved.” He had more than enough credit anyway.

  “Your uncle promised that if you take this work, he’ll see that you get another tongat license.”

  Which he wanted desperately. Another rescue, of course. Not for himself, but Cricket was a pack animal and he was a lousy pack member. He was too busy. He turned back to the house, Cricket now walking at his heels. Even though she was smaller than most of the ones he’d shot today, her nose bumped his butt. Her base coat was as black as a nightmare, and her eyes as dark and deep, but she had a white tip on her tail and a white sock on her left front paw. “Who’s paying?”

  “Satyana.”

  “The Satyana?” He settled the tongat in the living room and began pulling out ingredients for her dinner. Two tharps, beheaded but with the small bones still intact. Some vegetables. Two eggs. He couldn’t think of anything Satyana Adams would need him for. “Doesn’t she have her own guards?”

  “She wants you to squire Nona Hall around.”

  The eggs broke messily and he picked the biggest parts of the shell out with his fingers, leaving the rest. “Who’s that?”

  “Her family came in on that generation ship. Maybe she has some interesting stories.”

  “Why don’t you take the job? Fame interests you.”

  “I’m sure they’re hiring people with my safety record.”

  Charlie knew better than to go farther down that path. Jean Paul had gotten drunk and made a mess of a big job a few years ago. He’d lost three high-paying tourists who’d fallen off a cliff while roped together. People who understood Lym had forgiven him, but the accident had cost him his online reputation.

  Charlie added the meat and the root vegetables and put the whole mess into the oven on high to sear it. In the wild, Cricket’s food would be warm and bloody and in no danger of collecting bacteria that could make her sick.

  Jean Paul wasn’t giving up. “I looked her up. Nona was born on the Deep, teaches biology at one of the minor universities there. She’s probably interested in the same things you are.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Satyana doesn’t want her to know she hired you.”

  Charlie started in on their dinner, tossing a block of cheese to Jean Paul. “Grate some of that.”

  Jean Paul complied, and the two men went back to working q
uietly. The timer buzzed for Cricket’s dinner, and Charlie went through the restraint exercise of making her sit for five minutes before he put her bowl down. One small way to be sure she didn’t eat him some day. “How the heck am I supposed to keep Satyana’s role a secret?”

  “Lucy at the Chamber will make sure you’re at the top of the list whenever Nona comes in to hire a guide.”

  “What did that cost us?”

  “It cost Satyana a new coat for Lucy.”

  Charlie didn’t like anything that smacked of bribery. “Tell Satyana it has to be straight up. No lies.”

  “Lucy will get to keep the coat.” Jean Paul handed a small bowl of cheese to Charlie.

  “Good. I’m not lying for a coat. I’m not even lying for a tongat license.” The room smelled of the spices and oils Charlie fried up as he started preparing eggs.

  “Whatever you say, boss. Do I tell your uncle no dice?”

  “I’ll handle it.” Maybe he could finesse the tongat license. “I need to talk to Manny about the sensor networks anyway.”

  “I suspect Satyana has her reasons for keeping it secret.”

  “I’m no entertainer. I don’t need her to make my career.” Charlie added the eggs to the pan, swirling it around so they filled it evenly. He turned the heat down.

  “I wasn’t thinking of you. There’s more. Nona Hall just lost her mother.”

  “So now I’m supposed to heal the broken?”

  Jean Paul glanced at Cricket, who had just finished eating and gone back to sitting, her head following Charlie’s every move, her small ears flicking back and forth whenever either man talked. “She’s a tongat, not a human,” Charlie snapped.

  “Hey!”

  “Sorry. It was a long day.”

  “Quit taking it out on me.”

  “I remembered something that happened today. Sam—the biggest kid—said we’re about to be overrun by ice pirates.”

  Jean Paul frowned. “I heard a rumor about that at Jimmy Ling’s birthday party last week. I came home and checked it out. Two ships got kidnapped from inside the Ring this year, and five had to fight or run but got away. That’s more activity than usual.” He looked thoughtful. “Manny might know something.”

  The trap was clearly closing on him. He added the cheese in a light layer on top of the eggs and sprinkled more fresh herbs over that. “When does Nona land?”

  “In a week.”

  “All right. Get someone out here to replace me in a week, and I’ll stop off home.”

  “You want me to feed Cricket?”

  Charlie laughed. “Manny’ll do it. He likes the challenge. Besides, maybe I’ll take her along. Keep the rich girl in line.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Do you promise to feed yourself?”

  Jean Paul threw a kitchen towel at him, which Charlie caught and threw back. If he liked men for sex, his life would be perfect. He caught the towel for the third time and hung it up carefully. It was time to load breakfast-for-dinner onto their plates. “Maybe if she hires me, we’ll stop here. Then you can meet the rich and famous.”

  Two days later, Charlie slipped the skimmer under a copse of trees just as a downpour stole most of his visibility. He poured a cup of hot tea and curled his hands around it to warm them. Rain sheeted down on the clearing in front of him and ran in rivulets off the leaves above him.

  He had planned the day to search for rakuls, but this weather had surely driven them into caves or under the thick forest canopy.

  The ping of an incoming call caught his attention. “Who is it?” he asked.

  His onboard computer said, “Satyana,” in his ear.

  So she didn’t even use her last name. He was just supposed to know her inside of a system of trillions of humans. He toyed with the idea of refusing her call, but surely Jean Paul had arranged it. “Hello?”

  “Hello. This is Satyana Adams. Have I reached Charlie Windar?” At least she used both names in person. He recognized her face from news articles. Beautiful, with a long fall of dark hair and blazing blue eyes, almost neon and very intense. A strong woman.

  “This is Charlie.”

  “We have a problem. Your staff, Jean Paul, informed me that you insist on telling Nona that I’m hiring you.”

  “Jean Paul’s not staff.”

  “Whatever.”

  Satyana sounded like he expected her to—imperious and completely in control, as well as used to being obeyed and in a hurry. Traits he hated.

  “Have you ever been here?” he asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “On the surface?”

  Silence. He’d expected that—it matched Jean Paul’s research on the woman. She had flown here as a pilot before she became famous, but she didn’t land. Intersystem ships didn’t casually drop down Lym’s gravity well.

  Rain continued to sluice down off the trees around him, fat drops escaping the leaves and landing on his face or in his cup of tea.

  He let his silence hold for a while before he said, “It’s dangerous here. The dangers are completely different than the dangers on a starship or an orbital, or at least that’s what my clients tell me. If I squire this woman around, she’s going to have to trust me.”

  “Of course.”

  “So why would I start with a lie?”

  “I’m not asking you to tell her you weren’t hired by me. You don’t have to lie. Just don’t tell her. She is almost certainly underestimating the dangers on Lym. I’m trying to be sure she’s safe.”

  “Would she consider it an omission or a lie?”

  More silence, which was fine with Charlie. He was good at silence.

  The entertainment queen continued, “Nona’s special. She’s also tender right now, and probably lonely. I don’t want her taken advantage of.”

  “I don’t sleep with clients.” Anger started curling up his spine.

  “I know that,” she said. “She’s associated with me. That makes her a target, at least up here. That’s part of why I’m hiring you. You’ve got the best safety rating, and you’re close enough to the power structures there that you’ll understand Nona.”

  So Satyana thought Nona would do herself damage? She wasn’t coming out and saying so, but it seemed to lie between the words she was using. “I won’t lie to her. I’ll go there, and I’ll meet her, but I won’t lie. You can hire me and let me say you did so, or you can let it go and assume she’ll be all right, no matter what happens.”

  More silence.

  “Very little of the danger here is from the people. She is an adult, right?” He’d looked it up. She was fifty-five. Satyana was probably three-hundred, and he was seventy, but even if the only real measure of age left was emotional age, this Nona wasn’t a child. Although he was beginning to suspect she had been treated like one, and might act like one. “What will it be?”

  He could almost see her fuming. Damned spacers. “Have it your way. Don’t lie. But keep her safe. It’s now on your head to make sure she accepts you as a guide.”

  “No. It’s not. It’s up to Nona.” With that he hung up. He could say he lost the signal if it ever came up.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NONA

  The Lower Glory had docked at one of Lym’s two short-term Port Authority stations. Nona stood at the front of the station’s observation deck, curiosity and awe pulling her as close to the window as she could get. Lym occupied most of the view. She had seen thousands of pictures of it, on walls and in history lessons at school. In spite of that, seeing it really, truly existing made her tremble. Ice covered each of the poles, more on the north than the south. At least six different continents appeared to float on the vast seas, islands hugging their coastlines. Clouds obscured some of the details.

  It had all started here, the great glittering sky full of stations and ships and billions of people. This was where the first colony ship had landed in the long dark of history. What had the first people here thought all those years ago?

  Loud
speakers blared. “Boarding for Gyr Island transport begins in ten minutes. Passengers should head to the boarding area.”

  She gave the planet one last, long look. “I’ll see a sky,” she whispered to her dad. She had no illusion that he heard her, or that he’d lived on in any way, but she had gotten into the habit of talking to him from time to time anyway. She had small vials of his ashes—and Marcelle’s—tucked carefully into her coat pocket. They felt heavy, like tiny weights that hung between her and the rest of her life.

  To her surprise, the transport was largely empty for the run down to Lym. Two other tourists chattered nonstop, both bound for a university group tour. They vibrated with the excitement of meeting other professors from other stations, as well as seeing Lym. Five people were on their way to relocate. One couple was doing graduate work together and the other three had been granted five-year work permits.

  A loudspeaker commanded them to climb into crash couches. She felt the first twinges of fear and excitement rocket through her nerves like a glass of strong stim.

  The transport shuddered and burned its way down through the atmosphere.

  The vehicle and her stomach both calmed enough for her to look up at a screen with a real-time camera. The main spaceport was on Gyr Island, the one place on Lym where all technology was allowed. The island was a modified oval with fractal edges and a few deep inroads made by the sea. The spaceport was roughly in the middle, with a sprawl of buildings beside it. None of it looked at all like anything on the Deep.

  Landing was a long, fast glide and an exercise in fast braking.

  After they landed, an irritatingly earnest crew member stopped her at the door on the way out. “Have you ever been here before?”

  “No. But I’ll be all right.”

  “Just let me walk down beside you.” He gave her a look that suggested that if she said no he’d feel rejected for life.

  Nona hesitated, but shook her head. She wanted her first moment on a planet to be private.

  There was a ramp down. She glanced up once and flinched, shifting her gaze back to the ramp and clutching the handrail.