Chapter 3

"Captain Santiago? Sir?"

Elijah shook off the memories at the same time he pushed himself away from the wall of the elevator. His cheek tingled, as if someone had stroked it with a soft touch. "Yes, Barney?"

"You missed your level, sir."

Elijah looked at the control panel and swore. "I hate these things for a reason."

"There's no one else waiting, this late, sir. I'll redirect for you."

Elijah resisted the need to slump back against the elevator wall. He'd just drop into old, painful memories again. He felt the elevator slow, then stop. Then it smoothly dropped.

He spread his legs and folded his arms. Tiredness was gnawing at him, worse than the incipient hangover hovering behind his eyes. "Turn on the lights in my apartment, Barney. And…" He hesitated. "And print a dose of sleep for me."

He'd pay for the dose tomorrow, but that was tomorrow's business. He wanted to drop into sleep and stay there for eight hours, untroubled by nightmares. More, if he could manage it.

Booze wasn't shutting down his mind. Sleep might.

"Um...sir?" Barney asked, his voice emerging from the panel speaker with a weak tone.

"Yes, Barney?"

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. The corridor was barely lit, but Barney turned on the nearest overhead, and turned it down to an orange glow, enough for Elijah to see where he was going.

Elijah swung right and moved along the corridor toward his apartment door. There were only two apartments on this level.

As he walked, Barney said, "You told your AI to not disturb you, so she asked me to remind you about your nine o'clock appointment tomorrow with the Nightshade Consortium."

Elijah nearly groaned. Nearly.

So much for eight hours of sleep. He thought rapidly—as rapidly as he could given lack of sleep and too much brandy. He couldn't cancel the appointment. Allison, his AI, had spent weeks trying to find a day, time and place that suited all three of them, and the Consortium had travelled from New Gaia to discuss a potential freight contract for their precious ores. They had campaigned for two years for this meeting. They said they didn't want anyone but Transtellar United to carry their freight.

"Wake me at eight, then, Barney," Elijah said, his tone grumpy.

"Yes, sir."

Then Elijah realized what he'd done. "I mean," he added, looking up at the door lens so it could scan his face and retinas, "tell Allison to do it."

"Yes, sir."

The door opened. The apartment smelled fresh and clean.

And empty.

"You're too damned accommodating, Barney. Sometimes you need to talk back, you know."

"I will bear that in mind, sir. Good night, sir."

"Good night, Barney."

Elijah ignored the hollow sounds as he moved through the apartment. He stopped at the printer outlet and picked up the sleep dose and the glass of water thoughtfully sitting beside it, and moved into the bedroom.

He looked at the bed.

Nope. Sleep would not happen. Not there.

He moved back to the main room and the muscle chair and eased his long frame into it. He'd had the chair tailormade for his size. Off-the-shelf models only reached the back of his calves.

He swallowed the sleep dose and stretched out. It would take a few minutes to kick in. He just had to avoid thinking for a few more minutes.

Soft, low laughter. Her hand on his hip, trailing fingers…

Elijah opened his eyes. Reached for something. Anything. "Barney?"

"Yes, sir?"

"A woman arrived in the city today. A Varkan. Red hair, green eyes. She was on my ship. Who is she staying with?"

"I can enquire. A moment, sir." Then. "She appears to be staying at a transient hostel in the Heartlands."

"Transient?"

"She has not applied for residency. Do you require her com number?"

"No!" He cleared his throat. "What is her…" He paused to breathe. His chest was tight, making it hard to expand his lungs. He sipped air.

"You would like her name, sir?"

"No." He shook his head. "I want to stay as far away from her as possible. Does she have appointments while she's here?"

"She appears to be purely a tourist, sir."

So she would be wandering the city, popping up in odd places. He might glimpse her from the corner of his eye. Spot her hair through the crowds…he liked it longer, the way she wore it now.

That is not Blake, he told himself firmly. Then, "Barney, I intend to stay in my apartment until we ship out on Thursday. Tell Allison to cancel everything for the next three days, except the Consortium meeting." There was little danger of spotting strangers in the old executive wing. No one was allowed there without special passes.

"Including your breakfast table at the Sky Dome restaurant?"

"Including that," he growled, for damn it, he liked having breakfast there. "No, I'll eat there on Thursday morning." At least one day of good coffee and perfectly cooked bacon was not too much to ask of cruel fate. "And tell Allison to stop sulking. I won't bite."

"Allison feels that perhaps you did, sir. Bite, that is. Just a little."

Elijah rolled his eyes. "Then tell her I'm sorry, and come back to work in the morning. I'll need her for the meeting."

"I'll see if I can settle her down, sir," Barney said, his tone very polite.

Elijah expelled his frustration with a heavy sigh. Sleep was enveloping him in a warm, soothing blanket. "And turn off—" It was all he could manage, but the lights extinguished anyway.