Chapter 5

FIVE

Z ed had the hangover from hell, without even having had a drop to drink. So unfair. He could feel the vertical line etched between his brows, a sign that everyone from the Chaos would recognize. Not so long ago, headaches had been a daily occurrence. An hourly one.

It had been a long time since his head had hurt this badly.

"Are you?—"

Zed shot a glare at Flick. "Answer's same as last time."

"Well, it was a bullshit answer, so I'm gonna keep asking until I get the truth." Contrary to his harsh words, Flick gave him a gentle shoulder bump. "You're not alone, man."

Zed's gaze traveled over the others gathered in the small comms room. Theo had suggested it instead of returning to the bridge—but Zed didn't know if the compassion was for his benefit or for Flick's. Look at me, I'm being accommodating to your boyfriend, aren't I wonderful?

Bastard.

Besides Flick and Theo, Elias, Ness and Qek hovered nearby. The captain rested a shoulder against the wall, looking very casual, but Zed knew him well enough by now to grasp that it was an act. Ness's hand hovered over her belt where she kept her hypo-syringe; he doubted she knew she was doing that. And Qek…Qek's face had few wrinkles, which he hated seeing. It meant she was worried. A couple of techs manned the desk in front of the small view screen, and another relayed their status to the bridge.

Surrounded by his crew, an Earth ambassador and three AEF officers—and Zed had never been more alone.

Whatever the Guardians had done to him—in anticipation of this moment? God knew—it separated him. Watching an alien ship approach, knowing that he was the only one with a hope in hell of communicating with them…

He stepped away from Flick. "I'm fine." Managing a half smile to soften his action, he waved Flick back. Before anyone else could say anything, offer verbal support or caution, Zed triggered the Guardian cuff and opened the Jitendra 's comms channels.

As he'd expected, the audible frequencies were silent. The Species Four ship wasn't approaching because their mishmash message had been received—that had been the case for days. No, somehow they must have sensed that someone had picked up the nonsynthesized message. Some sort of feedback, maybe.

Taking a deep breath, Zed opened his mind.

As before, Species Four's "voice" slammed into him with an almost physical force. The back of his neck tingled as if someone had jammed a live wire into his skin. He jerked back, only vaguely aware that Flick had jumped forward to brace him, keep him upright. As hard as it hit, this time he was more prepared for it. He forced himself to keep breathing. If he couldn't master this, he had no idea what the AEF would do. The organization he'd served for more than a decade—the one he realized lived solely in his head—wouldn't attack because of a miscommunication. The actual AEF—the one that had tortured him and didn't seem to know what the fuck to do with itself in peacetime—he could see that one firing first and asking questions later.

Well, he'd wanted to make a difference in the galaxy, right?

He could do this. He could filter the influx of images and ideas. He could break it down, layer by layer. He could do this, damn it.

Time ceased to have meaning. He didn't quite fall into the same mental space as he achieved during his morning meditations, but it was similar. His surroundings dropped away, unimportant. It didn't matter that Flick stood with him—not in this moment, not when he was so focused on the inside. Dimly, he felt his limbs start to tremble from the effort of mastering the flood in his brain, but there was little he could do about it. He couldn't stop. Not yet. Not until?—

"HELLO!"

It was not a word, even as he heard the word in his mind. Zed expelled a shaky breath. A small trickle of triumph made it past his fatigue. "You need to turn down the volume," he murmured. When communicating with the Guardians, he didn't have to speak aloud, but it helped to give his thoughts some focus. Theo and Flick both asked something, but Zed couldn't concentrate on the outside just yet.

"HELLO!"

Zed frowned, wondering why Species Four hadn't acknowledged his statement—until he realized he was depending too strongly on words that the aliens would not understand, if their confused transmission indicated anything. Words worked with the Guardians because the Guardians knew the languages of the aliens in their galaxy. From their garbled messages, they could assume Species Four didn't.

Digging under the word his mind had interpreted, Zed gasped at the sudden push of joy, wonder, amazement. A chuckle escaped him. Species Four was so bloody happy to be making contact. In their message, there was no subterfuge—there couldn't be.

Zed sent back his own layers of thought. "Also happy. Pleased to welcome you. Want to be friends." Then, layered with some embarrassment, "Pain."

Instantly, the volume of thoughts and concepts eased.

"Oh, thank God." Zed folded forward, catching himself on the desk in front of him. Flick pressed against his side, growling and grumbling, and Zed lifted a weary hand to his lover's arm.

"Please tell me you're okay," Flick whispered.

"I'm okay." Zed offered Theo a small smile. "Species Four says hello."

"Great. Tell them hi back."

"Already done."

"And their plan is?"

Zed took a breath and straightened. He cast his mind back out into space, dimly noting that his neck tingled again—and suddenly he realized the significance of that. That was where the Guardians had inserted the fourth element, the one that had balanced out his system and fixed him. He'd thought it was something of them, but…

You can think about that later, after you're done being emissary for today.

Another breath. He refocused on his task, sending out puzzlement and curiosity . Species Four responded instantly.

"Exploration. Friendship. Knowledge."

When Zed came back to himself, it was to discover that he was smiling. How could he not? Touching Species Four mentally was like petting a dog who was just so damned happy you were playing with him.

"They're thrilled to meet us. Ecstatic, even."

"But what do they want ?"

"They want to be friends, Theo." Zed lifted a shoulder, still smiling. "That's all."

"Better than declaring war," Flick muttered.

"Hell yes." Theo blew out a breath. "Can we arrange a meeting?"

"I'm sure we can, but the AEF's got protocols, right? For first contact?" He'd read them in a manual once—something about neutral territory and precautions to take. A yawn caught him off guard and he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Okay, we're done. Say bye-bye to your new friends, Zed." Flick slipped his arm around Zed's waist.

"Wait. Sorry, Felix." Theo's smile was apologetic and crooked. "Major, can you tell them we'll contact them tomorrow to discuss a meeting?"

"I'll try. It's…it's not like words. It's ideas and concepts. I might not be able to communicate anything really precise."

"Fair enough. Do your best." Theo started for the door.

"And where are you going?" Flick demanded.

"I've got to make some calls, review the latest on first-contact protocol, and try to make sure the AEF doesn't overreact. Why, want to join me?"

Flick snorted. "Uh, no. Have fun."

Theo sketched a salute. Zed, fatigue pulling at his limbs, sent the message Theo had asked him to send. As best he could. The burst of happiness he got in response seemed to indicate it was received well. With a sigh, he turned off his Species Four antenna and sagged against Flick.

Flick grunted at the sudden shift in weight. "Need a nap?"

"Fuck, yes," Zed murmured. He was tired—but he sort of felt victorious too. He'd done something no one else could, and maybe he'd prevented something tragic from taking place. Turning away from the desk, he took a step—and grabbed hard at Flick as his knee refused to take his weight.

"Shit. I'm wiped."

"I can tell. C'mon, lean on me. I'll get you back to our quarters."

Each step was slow and Zed wondered more than once if he was going to fall asleep before they got to a bed. Then a more worrisome thought intruded. If he was this worn down by chatting with Species Four for a few minutes, how was he ever going to be of use in the meeting Theo wanted to have?

The novelty of watching Zed communicate with Species Four wore off after two days. The small comms suite had become theirs for the duration, for the Guardians' emissary to conduct his Work—often referenced with a definite capital, as if Zed toiled daily toward his magnum opus. Felix vacillated between boredom and relief as the room gradually emptied. By the second evening, even Dr. Gazi tired of watching Zed sit still and apparently do nothing.

Still, Felix's shoulders refused to relax from their perpetual pinch. Despite knowing Zed was healthy, having lived side by side with that health for six months now, he worried hourly that Zed might…

He couldn't finish that thought. Ever. Having lived through that for even two months had been too long .

Zed exhaled and loosened, his spine straightening until his shoulders met the back of the chair Felix had pressed him into a couple of hours before. Zed blinked a few times, looking around. His long fingers curled around the armrests. He glanced down at his hands, as if surprised to see them, and flexed his fingers.

"You okay?"

"It was an accident."

Felix's thoughts darted in ten different directions. The lack of blood oozing from Zed's ears helped deflect his imagination away from the worst scenarios. "What was an accident?"

"The stin probe."

Still no blood from his ears, but Felix's pulse refused to settle. "Did they…"

"They destroyed it, yeah. But not on purpose. They were trying to talk to it. Their communications equipment operates on very different frequencies. Probably undiscovered, if that's possible. Or something. I don't understand everything they show me. You probably would."

Felix blew out a puff of air. "I can't even communicate with myself."

"But you're getting better at it."

"Let's talk about why the stin probe exploded."

"Right." Zed took a long, weary moment to regather his thoughts. Before Felix could suggest they save the conversation for later—they'd have to repeat it all for Theo anyway—Zed pushed on. "They tried to beam their thoughts into the probe's comm array, and boom."

"That's one powerful signal." It was a wonder they hadn't melted Zed's brain on first contact. No, wait, they nearly had. And that had obviously been a more temperate attempt. "Did they have anything to say about the garbled nonsense they've been answering all hails with?"

"It's our own messages being sent back to us."

"Distorted beyond all reason?"

"They were trying. Best I can get out of them is that our comms carry a single, um, tone. The individual words or sounds don't register."

Weird. "Why didn't the Guardians give S4 speech boxes like they use?"

Zed quirked a dark brow. "Did they teach us to communicate with the ashies and the stin?"

"No. Sometimes I wonder if this is all a game to them."

"Pretty sure you're not alone there."

"They didn't give you any clues?"

Zed shook his head. "They…" Again, he stopped, but this time he wasn't searching for just any words. He was looking for the right ones.

"What?" Felix prompted.

"If I'd stayed with them, I might have learned more."

"Stayed with the Guardians?"

"Yeah."

Felix thought back to the first, last and only conversation he'd had with the Guardians. He'd deliberately antagonized the stin by crossing the border into their space with the hope the peacekeepers of the galaxy would intervene. They had, and he'd asked them to help him save Zed. Again. While listening to his pleas, they'd made an odd statement, one Felix had all but forgotten until now.

"The Guardians, they…they told me that you chose me. What did they mean?"

Zed's brows drew together. "They told you that?"

"When I was trying to get you off the Cambridge ." Felix felt the corners of his mouth turn down. Abandoning Zed on Alpha Station only to have him fall into the clutches of the AEF was not his favorite chapter of their personal history. Zed dying had been worse, but only just. "After I poured my heart out to them, which was pretty embarrassing if you must know, they asked me to identify myself. They wanted to know if I was the one called Flick."

Zed smiled.

"I said yes and they told me you had chosen me. Is that…did you…" He breathed out, in again. "You came back from wherever they had you for me ?"

Zed's warm hand closed over his, stilling fingers plucking at a stray thread. "Yes."

"Why?"

"For the same reason you crossed into stin space to fetch the Guardians for me."

Six months ago, Felix might have told Zed he'd made a mistake. That he, Felix Ingesson, station rat and irascible engineer, wasn't worth giving up whatever the Guardians might have offered. Now, he still doubted his worth and probably always would, but he had the presence of mind to accept the gesture for what it was worth. To understand what he meant to Zed…and, really, that was the easy part. Because Zed meant the same to him.

Everything.

And right now, his everything looked about ready to fall out of his chair with fatigue.

Felix pushed to his feet and reached a hand toward Zed. "C'mon, I'm taking you to bed." To sleep. Because although Zed could turn him on with a look, now that their relationship had settled into months, Felix found he enjoyed simply sleeping beside his lover. Cradled in Zed's arms, with the solid warmth of Zed's chest at his back, was Felix's favorite place to be.

Zed glanced around as if noticing for the first time they were utterly alone in a dark and empty room. "Where is everyone?"

"Where you should be. In bed."

"I even wore out Dr. Gazi?"

"I'm sure she'll show up tomorrow, refreshed and with sample recorders at the ready."

Zed's answering smile did little more than highlight the tired creases around his eyes and between his brows. He reached up to clasp Felix's outstretched hand and stood, tugging only lightly until he gained his feet. Then he pulled Felix into his arms, gathering him into a close embrace.

Felix melted into the man he loved, returning the hug as naturally as he was able, his achy bones ceasing all protest as Zed's warmth filtered through him. Zed's fingers pushed into his curls, finding the back of Felix's head, and he began to stroke away the dull ache Felix had only just become aware of. The words Felix still didn't say often enough piled up in his throat, but he didn't let them out. He didn't need to. Zed knew he loved him. Always had and always would.