Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Z ed really didn't want to have this conversation lying down, but the spike of pain that flared as he tried to sit up again convinced him that lying down would do. His brain felt scrambled, slower than usual, a reaction he'd experienced the last time he'd seized following a phase-shift. At any rate, staying still seemed like a good idea, and falling back asleep and avoiding Flick's questions, an even better one.

He didn't want to have this conversation, period.

He should refuse to talk. That'd make Flick's choice pretty easy, wouldn't it? Because as sloppy as his thoughts were right now, he recognized that Flick did face the choice of where his loyalties lay. The fact that he was in the med bay, again, and not lying on a dock with the Chaos long gone said that Flick had stood up for him. Again.

He didn't deserve that sort of loyalty, not from anyone, but especially not from Flick. The fact that he had it made his throat tighten.

Zed opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—to see Nessa standing behind Flick, examining the medical monitor's output. Her gaze shifted to him briefly from the display and back, then she looked at Flick, who clutched a sandwich in one hand and what might be his temper in the other.

"His vitals look…well, normal for him, I guess." Nessa regarded Zed. "I haven't told Eli you're awake yet."

Foggy memories of his actions slipped through his mind. "Is he okay?"

"His throat's sore, but he'll be all right."

"Zed." Flick's voice was urgent, hopeful. "C'mon, man, you've got to give me something."

Zed redirected his gaze to the ceiling. It provided no new answers, just the same options that had always lain before him. Stay silent, hurt Flick, lose him again. Or open up, hurt Flick, lose him again—but maybe he wouldn't be as hurt. Maybe he would understand.

"It was called Project Dreamweaver," he whispered. His heart lurched against his breastbone at the betrayal of his oaths. What did it matter? The AEF couldn't do anything but make him disappear sooner than he would on his own.

"Uh…" Nessa cleared her throat and shuffled in the direction of the door. "I'll just…"

"Stay. Please." He didn't want Flick to be the only one with the knowledge. He wanted someone they both trusted to hear it, too, so Flick would have support. Understanding. And yeah, he was a little selfish in that telling Flick alone felt like…confessing his sins. Or something equally stupid.

He let out a sigh. "Just don't repeat this. Or be careful who you tell. This is…It's the sort of information that makes people disappear."

"Black ops." Flick leaned back in his chair. "Not just covert."

Nessa breathed in sharply. "Christ. Okay. Project Dreamweaver."

"The biggest advantage the stin had over our forces in ground combat was the phase-shifting. Tough to hit an enemy with weapons or fists when they can slip into…elsewhere," Zed explained. "I don't know a lot about what led up to the project. Lots of research, lots of testing POWs."

Had the stin used their POWs in the same way? God, please no. He liked to think the AEF had been humane in their research, but he wasn't na?ve. He knew there had been shit happening at levels he didn't have clearance for, and he'd blocked it from his mind. The stin were the enemy; they deserved whatever they got. Except…maybe they didn't. Right and wrong was a blurry thing in black ops.

"About three years ago, I was approached by a group in AEF research and dev. The techs gushed about human adaptability, genetic diversity, and how they felt training could go a lot deeper than we'd previously explored. I remember sitting there, thinking that they weren't speaking English, with all these terms and jargon they were tossing about. Their enthusiasm was contagious, though—they honestly believed their ideas would win the war for us. I wasn't convinced, but I could appreciate their conviction." He smiled as he remembered how excited the two women had been. "I felt the enormity of their idea, even if I didn't fully understand it. Their CO shooed them out of the room and gave me…perspective."

Bone-chilling perspective.

"We were losing," Flick said.

"Yeah." Zed rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He showed me projections. We'd held our own well enough up to that point, particularly in space, but the losses on the ground were starting to get bigger and more frequent. The stin were pushing for more ground battles, attacking colonies hard, and they were fucking hard to stop. Different action was needed. Desperate action. If we let it go too late…"

"There'd be no coming back, no matter what they did." Nessa lifted a hand to her flushed cheek. "Oh my God."

"So I volunteered. Emma managed to get transferred with me—not that it was difficult. She still kicked my ass in all the tests." Like she had from the moment they'd met in the Academy. Even as a girl, she'd wielded a rifle like it was an extension of her body. His lips twisted with nostalgia and fondness before settling into a straight line. "There were twelve of us, all covert operators. We were isolated, cut off from all contact with anyone but each other and the techs in the Project. They'd talked about using injections to break down our…mental walls or something." Yeah. Injections. "There was a stin POW?—"

Flick jerked up from his seat and paced away from the bed. Tension vibrated through his arms, down to his clenched fists, as he walked with an uneven gait toward the door and back. "You fought it. Tell me you fought it. Tell me you didn't—" He choked. "You didn't let it touch you."

In his dreams, sometimes, Zed could still see the stin's snot-green face an inch from his, its large, beetle-like eyes boring into his own. Its teeth had been sharp, terrifying—even after the fourth time he'd been that close to it—but it hadn't smelled rank or evil or…anything like a monster should smell. Despite the claws that sank into his neck, despite the horror-movie appearance of the creature, Zed had almost started thinking of it like just another person.

Which scared him so thoroughly, he couldn't even express it. Did that mean he was no longer completely human?

"The stin learn to phase-shift at puberty," Zed continued, looking at Nessa. "An elder injects the younger stin with a dose of their claw venom, which acts like a gateway. Like peyote in Native American rituals on Earth." That comparison had been used in the training more than once as a potential proof that humans could reach an altered level of consciousness similar to the stin's, and if that was the case, perhaps the stin's method would result in an altered consciousness that mimicked theirs. "One dose wasn't enough, though."

"How many?" Nessa asked quietly.

"Four."

"What!" Flick kicked at his chair, knocking it into the wall. "Why would you do that, Zed? Why would you?—"

"Because I could." Zed kept his voice low in counterpoint to Flick's temper. "Being a soldier is my life. Winning the war and protecting everyone out there who can't protect themselves was all that mattered. We were going to lose. It didn't matter if they fucked me up because if doing so meant we'd win, it was worth it. It was worth it, Flick."

Despite how the memories reverberated painfully in his chest, he believed he'd done the right thing. The necessary thing. If the Guardians hadn't stepped in so quickly, they would have figured out a better way to manage the side effects, they would have made his team even more effective and efficient. They would have ended the war. He believed it.

I have to believe it.

"Four doses?" Nessa prompted. "What was the effect?"

"Altered brain chemistry. My vision is…weird. Colors are not quite right, lights are too light and shadows are too dark. I'm mostly used to it. The effect of drugs and chemicals can be tough to predict. Sedatives work well but burn off quickly. Painkillers are less effective. Alcohol hits me hard and wears off fast, which is not a fun ride. Caffeine…" He gave a little shake of his head, remembering the last time he'd had coffee. "I don't drink anything with caffeine."

"How can you talk about this like it's—" Flick waved his hands around, "—normal?"

Zed experimented with levering himself up on his elbows, and when his head didn't scream at him, he pushed the rest of the way into a sitting position. "What do you want me to do? I can't apologize for it, Flick. I won't."

"No. I…I get that, I do, but I just…" He stared at his feet.

A soft hand clasped his shoulder. "Long-term effects?" Nessa asked, her voice gentle.

Flick's head snapped back up. "What do you mean?"

"They don't know." Don't ask me about this, not with Flick standing right here.

"Zed…" Regret shone clear in her brown eyes. "The headaches, the seizures, the altered chem…these aren't sustainable."

"What do you mean? " Flick demanded.

Zed wanted to curse Nessa for bringing this up, but he couldn't. Flick needed to know. Would he have told his friend without prompting?

No fucking way.

"We were supposed to have full-time support for…um, the rest of our lives." He cleared this throat and fought to keep from looking at Flick. It sounded like a big commitment…unless you knew that a life could have all sorts of measurements. "Meds, psych, whatever we needed. When the Guardians ended the war, they ordered a disarmament. At that point, we were no longer considered soldiers. We were weapons."

Flick made a frustrated noise. "So they cut you loose. That doesn't make any fucking sense. Why let you go, if you're weapons? Why?—"

"Why didn't they ‘dispose' of us, like the rest of the weapons?" Zed shrugged. "The holo. Our celebrity status. Plausible deniability. All of the above."

"But if you're out there?—"

"They don't expect them to be out there for long," Nessa interjected. "Right?"

"Right."

"What…No. Zed, you're not—" Flick's voice cracked.

"I'm not dying," Zed confirmed. "My mind is going to go before my body does."

"That's why you thought I wasn't real. In the mess. You thought I was—" Flick changed direction. "How long?"

"I don't know."

"Fuck you! How long?"

"I don't know!" Zed winced as the shout cut through his temples. "You were never supposed to see this. You were never supposed to know what I did, that I'm not human anymore, that I'm going to go insane and—" His voice caught. "I didn't want anyone to know. I wanted to stay in the dark, alone, where I wouldn't hurt anyone and just…disappear. My family can't know, Flick. You have to promise me that you won't tell them, you won't go to them. You know what Dad'll do, he'll lean on the AEF, use his contacts to get me support or whatever the fuck he can get me, and that won't work this time. They don't want this coming out, do you understand? That's why there's a bounty on Emma. If you or anyone lets on that I've told you about this, they will kill you. Do you understand me? They will kill you and I can't—" He pressed a hand to his temple. "I can't—ow, fuck."

Nessa grabbed his elbow and directed him to lie down again. "He's not going to tell your family. Right, Fixer?"

"Ness—"

"This wasn't supposed to hurt anyone," Zed whispered. "It was supposed to help. It was supposed to be the right thing."

But it wasn't, was it?

Flick vibrated with tension as he paced back and forth. Watching him made Zed's head ache, but he didn't dare lift his gaze away. The moment he did, Flick might disappear, and if his oldest friend did decide to walk through that door, Zed needed to witness it. Note the finality of it. Nessa stood quietly by, obviously waiting for the same reason, for Flick to either accept shit, or be done with it.

Green eyes met his and held as Flick approached the bed, his stride so clipped his boot heels rang against the floor. He stood there a moment and Zed braced for the inevitable. A hand stroked his, the tentative touch at odds with the fierce set of Flick's jaw, and then Flick bent forward to press a surprise kiss to his forehead.

"Get some sleep," he said. "We've got a job to do."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Zed nodded and turned his fingers to grip Flick's. Warm fingers tangled with his for a few seconds before pulling gently away. When Zed opened his eyes, Flick was gone.

Working to relax his jaw for about the hundredth time since he'd left the med bay, Felix reached across the table to poke the projected station schematic, a quick double tap recording the exact location of his altercation with the cartel. "Zed had an overlay that highlighted this sector. It's an intersection of unregulated activity and dead cameras."

"This is the sort of bounty that will draw attention and traffic, so I'm not surprised to find Agrius is already here," Nessa said. "Nor am I surprised to hear they were already setting up shop. It was only a matter of time before they co-opted someone on Chloris."

If that someone was Emma…

"I have been monitoring SkipNet since we dropped out of j-space and there have been no hints that the bounty has left the station," Qek said. "There is also much speculation regarding current whereabouts of Emma Katze." She fiddled with her wallet, and pinpricks of light spread across the projected schematic. "With information gained from Elias's contacts, Anatolius security reports and rumor, I plotted each location." Another swipe of a blue digit and each point glowed. Some faded soon after, others brightened. "These three locations have been mentioned the most."

"You really think she's still here?" Nessa asked.

"I would estimate the probability to be better than eighty percent."

"It's a hell of a lot easier to sneak into a station than it is to sneak out of one," Felix pointed out.

"If anyone knew that, you would."

Felix caught and held Elias's gaze for a second, wondering how long it would take them to move beyond snorts and grunts, sly looks and stiff attempts at humor. Elias broke contact first.

"But in this case, you're right," Elias said. "The docks weren't damaged extensively during the war. The slowdown there is due to the AEF paying close attention to every departing ship. Announcing that to incoming traffic isn't great PR, though." He leaned forward, lips pursed, to study the three points. "This one—" he tapped the one closest to the gray zone Zed's intel had marked out, "—is where I'd start. It's not exactly on top of the mess you guys left behind, but it's not out of the way, either."

Felix glanced up from the map. "We've covered that."

"Yeah, we have."

Huffing out a short sigh, Felix pushed back from the table and leaned into the wall behind the bench. "Do we need to talk about what might have happened if we'd let them go?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, come on, we don't have time for this," Nessa said.

"Actually, we do, because, currently, our super soldier is sleeping off a hangover."

"A seizure of that nature isn't a joking matter."

Felix leaned forward, his hand sliding across the table. "Please stop." Elias and Nessa continued their argument silently for a few seconds before looking away from each other. Felix offered a quiet appeal. "Eli, if you need to beat someone up, start with me."

Qek clicked and the soft sound drew the attention of the rest of the crew. Her large eyes flicked back and forth, which gave Felix the impression each of them had just been chastised, however gently. "It troubles me to see such disharmony among my friends."

She might as well have announced she planned to pilot the Chaos into a star.

Elias broke the profound silence first. "What are your thoughts on this assignment, Qek?"

"Logically, the only safe course is an immediate departure from Chloris."

Logical, but not likely to happen.

Felix glanced at Elias. He looked tired—they all did. Relating the details of Project Dreamweaver had left Felix feeling hollowed out. Nessa appeared somewhat the same. Qek had taken the news in stride. The surprise had been Elias's reaction: calm acceptance. Thinking back, Felix realized he'd undersold his friend and business partner. Of course Elias would be sympathetic to Zed's fate. Elias was a good man. Their operations were not always strictly legal, but neither were they always run purely for profit. The sorry state of their ship attested to that.

As for his own reaction—Felix had decided to stow it for later. He couldn't contemplate the void and pull his crew together at the same time.

"What's our move, Captain?" Felix said.

Massaging his temples, Elias exhaled, the breath long and deep. "I don't like the Agrius connection."

"We don't know it's a connection," Nessa pointed out.

"If it wasn't before, it is now."

"If we were to apprehend Emma Katze and turn her over to Agrius, we might alleviate the pressure from one quarter."

"Qek!"

Nessa wasn't the only one surprised by the mercenary comment. Elias regarded the ashushk in openmouthed shock and Felix's gut twisted.

Qek clicked and gestured obliquely. "I merely stated the best outcome."

"Unless she's already working for them," Felix said. "Best outcome is we get Emma the hell out of here and fly off into the stars."

"With two messed-up super soldiers lounging in med bay," Elias put in dryly.

Felix pushed back from the table a second time and slid out of the booth. "Okay, I'm done. Y'all have a nice life."

"Sit the fuck down, Fix."

Felix glared at Elias. "Why? So you can tell me again how pissed off you are?"

"Running off like a two-year-old isn't going to get the job done."

"Neither is sniping at me from across the table!"

"We have a right to be pissed."

"Guys, guys…" Nessa half rose, her hands held out in a placating gesture. "Look, you're both right and you're both wrong."

"That is a contradiction," Qek put in.

"Stow it. You just voted to hand an innocent woman over to the enemy."

"I made no such vote. I merely extrapolated the best outcome from the available facts."

Felix leaned into the wall beside the booth and swallowed the whine rising in his throat. He scrubbed his bare hand across his face and turned back to the table. "I'm sorry, all right? I don't know what I could have done differently, but I'm sorry. Look, this is killing me, us fighting and bitching over something other than the last Cheesy Bik. Makes me sick to my stomach."

"You and me both," Nessa murmured.

Elias's eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, so now I'm the bad guy?"

"No, I believe I currently have that distinction," Qek said.

"Okay, let's try something," Nessa said. "We're each going to spend a minute telling the rest of the crew what we want out of this situation. After we've all had our say, no interruption, we'll use Qek's formula to plot our best possible outcome."

Felix let out a pained groan. "This is not the time for a circle jerk."

"All you need to do is tell the truth. Qek, why don't you go first."

Qek clicked thoughtfully for a moment. "I want four hundred thousand credits to spend on repairs and upgrades to this ship."

"That's—"

Nessa held up a finger. "Not your turn, Eli."

Grumbling, Elias clamped his mouth shut.

"But this ship is nothing without her crew. As I stated before, I would forgo the mission in order to protect the integrity of what we already have."

Felix cast his gaze down toward the floor, disappointed by Qek's admission, but not surprised. The ashushk thought at a slower and therefore more logical pace than the rest of them. She had effectively cut through the emotion of the issue.

Quietly, Nessa added her thoughts. "You know what? I want the same thing, with one codicil. Zed is a part of this crew." She waved Elias to silence when he opened his mouth. "It might not be a permanent placement, but he's here now and he needs our help."

A murmur rounded the table. Qek clicked quietly.

"Elias?"

Elias fumed silently for a moment—his thinking moment—then he let out a deep breath. "Fuck it. You know what I really want? I want to not have met Zander Anatolius and his big fat wallet of credits. But seeing as it's already too late for that wish, I want…" His brown gaze rolled over each of them. "I want you all safe. I want you happy and healthy. That being said, I want what we do to mean something. Anyone can deliver Belarian carpets to Ashushk Prime, but not everyone is willing to take the risks we do."

Emotion tugging at his weary heart, Felix nodded at his captain, offering encouragement. This was the man he had partnered with.

"I didn't just take this job for the credits. Yeah, it's a lot of money and we could use it. I took the job because Zed needed to find his friend. I could see how much it meant to him and…" He shrugged. "Just seemed like the right damned move."

Smiling, Nessa grasped Elias's forearm. "You old softy."

Elias grumbled.

Nessa looked up at Felix. "Your turn."

"I think Elias said it well enough."

"That's a cop-out."

Felix sighed and pushed his hair around. It could use a trim—and thinking about that only delayed the inevitable. What did he really want? He wanted Zed not to be a lab rat with stin scars down his neck. Same for Emma. He wanted the wedge between him and Elias to dissolve. He wanted Qek to touch his hand again, palm to palm, and he wanted Nessa to stop mothering him.

"I want a fucking time machine."

Qek clicked and Elias groaned. A crease of disappointment appeared between Nessa's brows.

"What? Elias wished he'd never met Zed."

"You're missing the point of the exercise."

"I don't want to play the game."

"It's not a game."

Felix kicked at the floor. The weight of his crewmates' attention made his skin itch. What he wanted was to go back to his quarters, burrow into his bed and sleep until the nightmare ended. He tried again. "I want too many things and none of them are important or relevant right now."

"Stop being a selfish prick and just tell us what you want out of this job."

"Fine. I want to rescue Emma and then find a way to fix them both. Get that fucking stin poison out of them so they don't have to live like this." Or die like this. "That work for you?"

Elias held his gaze for a moment before offering a sober nod. "Yeah."

Nessa looked at Qek. The ashushk clicked and answered the unasked question. "If the definition of crew is expanded to include Mr. Anatolius, then I believe my wish can be expanded as well."

Everyone looked at Felix. He supposed they were waiting for him to play his asshole-card. Object to something, anything, everything. That thought tipped his balance, but didn't push him over. His crew had all just thrown in with him, told him they wanted to see the job through. He needed to give something back. He put both hands on the table, palm down, the metal-clad fingers of his left clicking softly against the scratched surface. "Thank you. I…" He swallowed a sigh. "I'm sorry. Y'all know I don't play well with others."

"No shit," Elias muttered.

"No, you mean bullshit," Nessa said. "Look, this is our first big bump as a crew. For nearly a year, we've gotten along with no more than a spat here and there, and those have been confined to someone stealing the last Cheesy Bik or forgetting to put more beer in the fridge."

"Or taking the refrigerator apart," Felix said, offering Nessa a wry smile that she immediately returned.

"Point is…" She rubbed at her brow. "Hell, I'm not sure I even know what the point is anymore. I'm tired."

"I think we are all fatigued," Qek said. "I suggest we break for a few hours. Get some rest while we have the opportunity."

A part of Felix wanted to rush back out onto the station, but going alone would be stupid. He'd been trained better than that. He also knew that given the stresses of the previous couple of hours, he needed rest. They all did, Zed most of all.

Pulling himself off the wall felt like too much effort, so Felix lounged there until Nessa and Qek left the mess. He summoned the energy to stand upright as Elias approached. Elias cocked his head in question and Felix pondered the physical distance between them, hoping he could find the words to bridge the other gap.

"Are we good?" Oh, nice. Perfect.

"Honestly, I dunno, Fix."

Heart dropping through his stomach, Felix dipped his chin and prepared to creep away. He stepped forward instead, placing himself right in front of Elias. "If you need me to go, say the word. I'll be gone in an hour."

"That's not what I need."

"Tell me what you want."

"Already told you, man, in Nessa's little therapy session."

"That's what you truly want to do?"

"Hey, if I'd lied, Ness might never sleep with me again."

"You guys on again?"

Elias made a seesaw gesture with his hand.

"I feel like I'm out of touch with the crew."

Elias's mouth quirked into a half smile. "I think you're more in touch than you realize. What do you really want?"

Everything he wanted rolled through Felix's thoughts, unfiltered. Zed featured prominently. Again, he thought about Qek's gestures of friendship and Nessa's annoying but not entirely unwelcome concern. Pausing the memory reel, Felix took a moment to consider the man before him, the one he owed two lives. He wanted to see Elias's handsome face creased in a smile, and maybe catch that occasional note of pride in his warm brown eyes, the glint he got after a job well done. He wanted his friend back.

"I want it all, Eli. Nothing less." A wavering smile twitched across his mouth.

"C'mere." Elias enfolded him in a hug and Felix let it happen; he owed Elias at least that much. With minimum stiffness, he leaned into his friend, his brother, and breathed in the comforting scent of Elias's soap, did the back patting thing.

After a moment, Elias pulled away, cupped his ears and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Go get some rest. We've got asses to save."