Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

N o one would tell him anything—not that his thoughts on the stin would be useful. Felix had trouble summoning empathy for the species that had broken his spirit. But he would like to know if they were set to try again, in retaliation for whomever or whatever had botched their attempt at making friends with the resonance. He'd also like to know about the whomever and whatever . Zed had told him the resonance were all right—unharmed, but for a couple of broken spikes, and recovered from the shock of being incapacitated. Felix was relieved to hear that, at least, but whenever he tried to talk about the stin, everyone insisted he think about replacement arms instead.

Felix preferred to ignore the missing space beside him, knowing he couldn't do so for more than a while. Whenever he stood, it seemed the galaxy tipped to the left, which made no sense. For the love of all those useless gods, wasn't he lighter on that side?

That everyone would rather he stayed tucked safely in bed also annoyed him, but he was sick of pissing lying down. Never felt like he could get a good drain without the assistance of gravity. And it wasn't as if he'd ever used his left hand to shake. His fingers had been next to useless and almost wholly without sensation. Really, he was better off without the hand and the arm, but remembering it was gone? A whole other tangle of wire.

Had he always used his left elbow to lever up into a sitting position? Or had Fate decided that might be the easiest way to mock him?

Grumbling, Felix dug his right elbow into the mattress and pushed upward. His thoughts spun uselessly for a moment as his lazy blood figured out where it should go. When his vision cleared, he plucked at the coverlet over his legs and began the process of sliding off the bed with only one arm.

It shouldn't be this fucking hard.

The floor was blessedly cool under his bare feet. Felix curled his toes a few times, luxuriating in the sensation of having a solid surface beneath him. A floor. Then he pushed off the bed…and listed to the left.

"Shit."

Pain wrapped around his bandaged shoulder with brutal claws, and a line of fire ringed his middle. Not content to hold him upright and steady without complaint, the rest of his body chimed in with a chorus of real and imagined hurts. Felix gripped the side of the bed and uttered a stream of nonsense, unsure if praying or cursing would be more practical.

Behind him, the door hissed open. Loud footsteps rounded the bed and a solid hand gripped his right elbow. Felix knew it was Theo even before he spoke. The warm grip, the scent of someone other than Zed—and Elias would have been haranguing him from the door.

"Are you trying to get out of bed or back into bed?" Theo nudged him toward the bed as if that should be his answer.

"Out of bed."

"Should you be up?"

"I didn't lose a leg, Theo, but if I lie in that bed for much longer, they'll try to take one off."

"That's—"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay? I just need to get to the head before they try to take my dick too."

"Felix—"

"Are you going to help me or not?"

"If I help you piss, Zed will take my hand off at the shoulder. Possibly the neck."

"Fan-fucking-tastic. We can not look at replacement limbs together."

Theo's quiet laughter rumbled through his side. "How about if I get you to the door."

Felix counted back from three, because three seemed to be his limit lately. His irritation level had slipped from red to yellow, though. Not quite out of the danger zone, but low enough for him to talk. "Stop laughing at me."

"I can't help it. Doctors are supposed to be the worst patients. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, well, I'm a mechanical doctor. Sort of. And someone's been messing with the gravity differential on this tub. Everything keeps tilting to the left. You should check that out."

The bathroom door slid open. Fighting the urge to lean one way or the other, Felix wavered toward an upright position and extracted his arm from Theo's hold. He tossed a quick glance in Theo's direction and mustered a smile. "Thanks."

He managed to piss without falling down, washed his one fucking hand and got back through the door to find Theo waiting right where he'd left him.

"I don't want to talk about my arm, so if Nessa thinks I'm less likely to yell at you, you might as well save your breath and go do something more productive. Or you could tell me what's going on with the stin."

Theo showed him a kindergarten smile. Yeah, they weren't going to talk about nasty stuff like the stin. "I think they're prepping Qekelough to talk to you about arm replacements."

Typical. Send in the implacable ashushk.

A small part of him looked forward to the visit, though. Felix always found Qek's companionship soothing and if he had to talk about something other than the stin…say, like his future—which was what any conversation regarding his arm revolved around, really—she might be the one person he could do it with. As an ungendered ashushk, she would understand the choice he faced. His freedom to roam the galaxy lay in the balance.

Speaking of the galaxy, it wanted to roll again. Felix flailed with his missing arm. Or tried to. Theo caught him before he fell. Gut cramping, Felix squeezed his eyes shut. The wheeling sensation intensified—another wonderful side effect of being off balance. Next he'd be…Yep, there it was, bile burning up the back of his throat. Felix shook his head, swallowed and gagged.

Theo propelled him back through the bathroom door. Felix hooked his good hand around the corner of the sink and pulled forward just in time to vomit somewhere other than the floor. Feeling the warm circle of Theo's palm at the center of his back, Felix sent his left arm flailing backward, only to realize—again—he had no fucking arm, and that was why he felt off-kilter and dizzy.

"Please go away." Felix spat and watched the pale yellow glob slide toward the drain without catching on the surface of the sink. What was the basin made of, anyway?

Before his brain could latch on to a logical problem, Theo caught his shoulder and drew him back upright. "Should I call someone?"

"Because I tossed my liquid cookies?"

"Huh?"

"Until they're sure my patched intestines won't spring a leak, I'm only allowed to drink my food." Felix paused long enough to turn his face away from the cloth Theo wanted to wipe across his mouth. "An' it's nasty stuff. I'd kill for a protein bar. Stop laughing at me. They're tasteless, okay? And chewy. That's why I like them. And stop patting my back. Were you always this annoying?"

Theo had him halfway back across the room. Felix reached for the bed with his good hand and breathed out a sigh of victory. He'd used the arm he did have and hadn't stumbled once.

Nearly dying was a pain in the ass.

"Listen, thanks for the visit, but if you're not here to catch me up on current affairs, I think I'm gonna sack out for a while. Gather my reserves for the next assault."

"Assault, huh?"

"Qek and the arm thing." His left shoulder throbbed. Ignoring it, Felix lifted his chin. "I'll try not to vomit on you next time you come."

"You'll be up and around soon. Properly. Nothing keeps Felix Ingesson down for long." Theo squeezed his arm again and let go. He was halfway to the door when it snicked open.

Zed crowded through, stepping aside to let Theo pass. The two men eyed each other warily, Zed not looking away until the door had sealed. Felix studied Zed while he was distracted, marking every tired line. His heart flipped and flopped. Had he caused that deeper crease between his lover's brows? The wrinkles of fatigue around his eyes and mouth?

Guilt burned underneath the clinch of pain around Felix's gut. Zed had enough to worry about without taking on his burdens too. Felix didn't see how he could alleviate some of that weight while confined to a hospital bed, though.

Zed turned, catching his gaze, and nodded toward the bed. "Should you be up?"

"For fuck's sake. I didn't lose a leg."

Zed darted a fleeting glance at his bandaged shoulder. "No, but you nearly bled to death, had three separate surgeries and were in a coma for two days." His expression softened. "You should be resting."

"My ass is going numb from all this resting. I think I'm getting bedsores."

Zed's lips twitched. "If that's your way of asking me to rub your ass, you're worse off than I thought."

Ducking his chin, Felix smiled. The curve of his lips felt foreign, and he recalled how often smiling had felt like an unnatural act—until recently. Until Zed. Why was it that every time his life evened out, allowing him to hit his stride, a bump blocked his way?

Knowing the next topic of conversation would be his arm, he waved toward the visiting chair. Or tried to. He'd been leaning against the bed using his right arm to support his weight. When his missing left arm failed to make the fucking gesture, he used his right—and slid along the bed until he caught himself at the end, causing the frame to shudder.

Zed came to his rescue, clutching at his elbow in much the same way Theo had, except his hand was cooler.

Felix shook him off. "'M fine. Just go sit down and tell me about the investigation."

"Flick—"

"I'm only missing an arm, not half my brain. Why does everyone think I need help walking and talking and eating and shitting? Sit your ass down and catch me up on why I'm stuck in this hellhole."

"I'm peripheral to the main investigation."

A short laugh forced itself out of Felix's throat. "Oh, I just bet Central and Mil-Int wish you were peripheral. I'd also lay odds you have all teams reporting directly to you." Something like guilt flushed Zed's cheeks, bringing color that clashed with his unnaturally pale face. More softly, Felix said, "You look like you could use a week in this bed. Food's shit, but the sponge baths are fun." Then he began the laborious task of climbing onto the bed with only one hand to support him. Really shouldn't be this fucking hard .

Zed gripped his elbow and Felix growled before swallowing his anger— not just because he was too tired and sore to sustain it. "Please let me do it myself."

Making a small noise, Zed turned away and cast himself toward the visitor's chair, landing in a heavy sprawl with his head tipped back. Felix climbed onto the bed. By the time he got situated, his breath was short and his whole body hurt. He'd get used to it, the one-armed thing. He'd been used to having only one relatively functional hand.

Rolling his head sideways, he studied Zed, who hadn't moved. "I could hack the door. Lock it from the inside. Then you could climb up here and get some sleep." The invitation had a lot of appeal. Felix always slept better when he had Zed beside him.

"Fucking tempted," Zed murmured. Lifting his head, he opened his eyes. "I've only a few hours to prepare for the human delegation meeting with the resonance, though."

Felix allowed a few seconds of relief that a human-resonance meeting was still on the agenda before worry over Zed's obvious fatigue took over. "You should spend those hours asleep rather than preparing. And you should leave the rest of the investigating to the professionals. You can't do it all, Zed. No one is supposed to do it all."

"I'm not trying to do it all. I'm invested in this. I was there, on that ship."

"So was I."

Zed pushed out a sigh. "And that's the reason I need to know what happened."

"Then if you're not going to sleep, spill the facts and I'll help you sort them. Or offer my completely unasked for and probably utterly irrelevant opinion."

"I'd rather talk about getting your arm replaced."

Of course he would.

"I'm not sure I want a new arm." The statement obviously surprised Zed as much as it did Felix, but once the words were out there, they felt right. As if they encompassed all the not -thinking he'd been doing about his future.

"I don't understand."

"I…" Competing wishes collided in his head. How could he be a proper partner, everything Zed needed, while splitting his time between surgery and recovery—not to mention the time it would take him to learn how to use a new arm. "Maybe I don't need one."

"Huh?"

"It's not like having two arms has ever made me more useful."

Zed's frown deepened the crease between his brows. "Qek knows some people who know some people. She's got a list of bleeding edge arms to show you."

Frustration bubbled up and out. "But I don't want to have to choose, Zed. If I go with a cybernetic arm, I'm stuck here at the Hub." Which would be okay for as long as Zed occupied the role of translator for the resonance, but what about afterward? "If I go with the mechanical model, it's going to take me months to figure out how to do anything but knock stuff around with it. I won't be able to fix shit. I'll still need help wiping my own ass. Point is, I won't be able to do my job." As mechanic or partner.

"Elias and I know how to service a lot of the onboard systems and Qek can fill in if something bigger?—"

"I'm not really the type to just be a passenger. Maybe I should just do what my dad did." Fate must be laughing at how exactly he'd followed his father's footsteps. He was now the one-armed son of a one-armed mechanic. Pushing out a bitter sigh, Felix continued, "Maybe I should just stay here on the Jitendra . Get a job servicing life support." Though he hadn't actually considered the option, a weird sort of calm stole over him as he contemplated days of service checklists and records. A schedule with a beginning and end. No striving for individuality or greatness. No trying to be more than he was. He ignored the ball of sadness welling up underneath, the vague feeling of something trying not to tear loose.

Zed had an odd look on his face. His lips moved, tightening and loosening. Before he could ask the question rolling around Felix's head—the question of them , what him giving up on any sort of future would mean for them , Felix decided to skip to the end of the conversation. "You should go get some sleep. You've got a job to do, Emissary , and it's not figuring out who's responsible for sabotaging this conference. Convocation. Whatever the fuck they want to call it. Your job is to be a symbol, and make sure everyone keeps talking. To encourage everyone to make friends. The stin haven't left the convocation in a huff, have they?" If they had, someone would have told him. "So they want in on it too. Make it work, Zed, or it won't matter if I get a new arm or not."

Zed's odd expression remained as he pushed to his feet and hovered over the bed for a long moment. Once or twice he opened his mouth, closed it again. Love burning a hole in the center of his chest, Felix watched him struggle, knowing if he said anything , he'd either drive Zed away, or make an absolute fool of himself.

Bending forward, Zed brushed a kiss across his forehead. He tangled a finger in one of Felix's curls and tugged it gently. Then he straightened, turned away and left the room without looking back.

Maybe I should just stay here on the Jitendra .

Zed gritted his teeth and stared at the airlock, wishing the sound of pressure equalization would drown out the memory of Flick's words. He had a job to do, damn it. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not on the cusp of this, the last individual meeting of the convocation. Peace weighed heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't just shrug it off because he was in a pissy mood—nor could he abandon his duties to march back to Flick's bedside and demand what the hell he'd meant.

Why hadn't he asked when he'd had the chance?

"You look tense, Zed," Theo murmured.

Tense. Yeah. Maybe because the guy he loved was considering staying with his ex?

Okay, no, that wasn't fair. He knew Flick's words had been tossed out as a joke—mostly. Wanting to stay on the Jitendra had nothing to do with the fact that it was where Theo worked. Flick had just been…casting about. Looking for options. Brainstorming, sort of. Right?

The airlock door popped open to reveal the still-alien features of the resonance delegation. Gleams brushed his mind, that sensation more familiar than her countenance, and Zed couldn't help but smile. He shoved all his doubts aside and focused on their guests.

"Welcome," he said aloud for Theo's benefit. To the resonance, he sent, " Gratitude, warm-welcome-hello, happy ."

"You are well, Zanderemissary? And your partner-unit?"

Zed tamped down the resurgence of emotion the questioning images provoked. I am clear, I am calm. He repeated the mantra a couple of times, keeping it to himself, before responding. "He is recovering. Thank you, appreciation."

"But you…" Concern swept through his mind. "You are not."

"Confusion. I was not injured."

If Zed wasn't mistaken, that was a smile brushing his mind. "When one of us is injured, we are all injured. That is the same for Zanderemissary, yes?" Gleams extended a fingerlike appendage to touch Zed's cheek. " Your thoughts have been sad and continue to be so."

"I'm sorry."

"Unnecessary. Silly. We would be more concerned if they were not." Gleams stepped forward and offered a "hand" to Theo—a greeting she had picked up a few meetings ago. "Hello, Theodorambassador."

Zed translated for Theo, but his mind was still on the perspective Gleams had presented. Physically, no, he couldn't share Flick's injury. But mentally, emotionally? How could he not, even if Flick didn't want to burden him? And there was no denying that Elias's words had carved themselves into his psyche, leaving invisible slices that had yet to close. They'd been avoiding each other—which suited Zed just fine, because he didn't need to hear any more. Not when he was dealing with all this other shit. And the thought that he was holding the Chaos back—interfering with jobs and income—didn't sit well with him, either. Another weight on his shoulders.

He had no real solutions. None he wanted to pursue, anyway, since he was a selfish bastard.

They made their way to the nearby conference room, and Zed sat beside Gleams and the other resonance. They did not make use of chairs; instead, they reformed their lower appendages to support their weight more comfortably. Which was just as well, since the chairs around the table probably wouldn't support them, anyway.

Theo settled across the table from the resonance, next to Speaker Tamboli. Theo smiled, the warm, broad smile he seemed to use for everything—though it appeared nonetheless genuine for its overuse. "I bid you welcome. Meeting a new species in our galaxy is a momentous occasion and a joyous one. Humanity is thrilled to welcome you to the community and we hope that this will be the start of a long friendship."

Zed translated Theo's words as best he could, which consisted of images of welcome, friendship and a dash of excitement. He smiled at Gleams's response. "She says they are equally excited and happy to meet us—humanity," he corrected quickly.

"I'm sorry that you were caught up in the incident aboard the Gorekka ," Tamboli said.

Zed relayed the sentiment. "She says that it was…" What was the best word? "Unpleasant. She also mourns those who were lost."

"Of course." One look at Theo's expression revealed he was thinking the same thing Zed was—about Flick. "Shall we get started?"

Zed passed the question to Gleams, who brushed his mind with a smile. "We are ready."

The meeting passed in a familiar fashion—questions being asked of the resonance, Zed conveying the queries and translating the responses as best he could. In many ways, the session progressed more smoothly, since Zed, being human, had better mental context to draw on to support his translations. Of particular interest to the resonance seemed to be the recent war—and that was a tricky subject, not only for Zed, but for the human delegates. Prejudices and preconceptions came into play, and trying to filter those out took a lot of effort. They moved on to discuss boundaries and trade—elements that had been covered in the previous meetings as well.

By the end of the session, Zed was drained. Days of little sleep, combined with worry and fear built up in tandem with the effort of communicating wordlessly, had left him without any reserves. For a moment, he entertained a fantasy of climbing into Flick's hospital bed next to him, but would his presence even be welcome?

If Flick was thinking about staying aboard the Jitendra …

"Slight dissonance," Gleams said.

With a start, Zed pulled his emotions and thoughts back into himself. "My apologies."

The resonance looked at him with almost a quizzical expression—or maybe Zed was reading into the expression based on what he could feel at the edge of his senses. Thank-yous and much-appreciateds had already been shared, and the human delegation was rising, the meeting breaking up.

"Regeneration?"

Sleep, she meant. "Soon," Zed assured her. "I must visit Flick—my partner-unit."

Gleams turned to her delegation, though Zed couldn't catch what was being communicated. After a moment, she turned back to him. "We will accompany you."

"Uh…" Okay, that he hadn't expected. The surprise made him forget to keep his conversation silent. "That's not necessary…"

"What is it?" Theo asked, coming to stand beside Zed.

"They want to visit Flick."

The question didn't faze Theo, which made Zed wonder if it had surprised him only because he was so tired. "Do you think he'd be okay with that?" Theo asked.

"I…guess?" It wasn't like one of the stin was asking to see Flick, but Zed had never really gotten a good sense of whether Flick was okay with the large crystalline aliens. He didn't think he feared them, at least. "Sure."

"Give me five minutes to get the clearances in place, and we'll go." Theo slapped Zed's shoulder gently before turning away to consult his wallet.

"Theodorambassador is arranging the visit," Zed informed Gleams.

"Excellent. We have much to say to your fluffy-yellow-partner-unit."

Was that a good thing? God, he hoped it was a good thing.