CHAPTER THIRTY

Kade

A little over twenty-four hours after Volgoch dropped that bombshell into the courtroom, I stood at parade rest at the side of a fancy restaurant on the south western edge of Hon. The Nwandu ambassador and her entourage, along with a number of Associates, were having dinner, with the restaurant situated on a wide estate, overlooking a beautiful vineyard. There were also a significant number of administration staff who had been invited, plus a handful of journalists. Earlier in the day, we’d been able to see the vines, heavy with grapes, ready to be harvested in the next few weeks, all lined up in neat rows that stretched out around us. Now, the sun was setting and the fields were fading from orange to grey, and would soon be covered in darkness.

Given the number of people here, both my master’s team and Commander Preswood’s team had been called up, and we were stationed at intervals around the room, interspersed with the Nwandu security team. I kept my eyes on the room, the guests, the waiters, the musicians at the far end… but my mind kept wandering back to the staggering news Volgoch had announced. The Eumadians had the technology to break my bond with my master. The idea was terrifying.

Weeks ago, my master had asked me what I wanted, had tried to force me to accept that I had opinions of my own, outside of his desires. I’d spent a great deal of time thinking about that, trying to tease out the threads of why I’d flushed with joy at the idea of him sucking my cock, but shrivelled in disappointment when told to wash the dishes. If both things would have pleased my master, then why…?

And what did that mean about the possibility of being taken back to Eumad? It was easy to say that I didn’t want to go. If I went, then how could I please my master? But if I was given a new master, and told to go and please them… why was that such a frightening idea? I would still have a master. I would still have someone to serve.

But… would they cuddle on the sofa with me and watch chaotic sports races? Would I have someone who gave me orders with that beautiful blend of vagueness and clarity, making sure I understood his intentions, while giving me leeway about exactly how to fulfil the order? Would my new master let me sleep in their bed, or send me away to another room? Despite all of my protests on the subject, I was slowly realising that my master was right. I wanted things. I wanted to stay with him.

I tensed and pulled myself back to the present, as I saw my master approaching me out of the corner of my eye. We’d been given instructions to remain as unobtrusive as possible, except in the case of an emergency, and I wondered why he was breaking that instruction to come to me now.

He stopped right beside me, turning to face the room, and leaned close. “Kade,” he said into my ear. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind right now. But I need you to pay more attention to what’s going on here, and spend less time thinking about the court case. We can deal with that one tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, straightening my back and returning my attention to the room. The main course was being brought out now, and I kept a close eye on the waiters. It wasn’t likely that an estate as exclusive as this one would have anyone on staff with ill intentions, but it was just about possible that a nefarious interloper might try to infiltrate the room, in order to launch a protest about the Nwandu. Or, for that matter, an attack against one of the Associates. Politicians were never without their detractors, after all.

After a suitable amount of time, my master returned to his own post, thankfully with no one paying any attention to us. The meal continued uneventfully, with nothing more sinister occurring than one of the attendees complaining about having been served the wrong sort of wine, and a small commotion when one of the Nwandu aides dropped her fork on the floor.

After the meal was over, the guests migrated out onto the wide balcony, and the security teams were told to reorganise ourselves to ensure all the guests were appropriately guarded. I ended up just outside the balcony doors, watching with curiosity as the ambassador’s aides chatted with the administration staff. The particular one in front of me was doing a very good job of pretending to be interested in a discussion of whether planting trees or grasses was more beneficial for a first wave of terraforming. I watched as she surveyed the room, then smiled politely at her companion, then glanced over at the Ambassador, where she was talking to one of the Associates on the far side of the balcony. Actually, now that I thought about it, every single one of the Ambassador’s attendants was outside on the balcony, spread out at strategic distances, and… I took a longer glance around the space. Yes, every one of them was performing the same slow sweep of the area and occasional check-in with their mistress.

The women were not here to attend to Ambassador Vendanu’s administrative needs or to bring her extra glasses of wine – though that was certainly one of the activities they had been performing throughout the evening. These were not ladies-in-waiting. They were security personnel. I recognised the subtle but constant surveillance of their surroundings, because I had been trained to do the exact same thing.

As I watched, Vendanu’s aide brushed a hand against her jacket – a nervous gesture to check that whatever weapon she had was still in its assigned spot. There was another hidden weapon – I guessed it was a knife – attached to her right ankle. The way she moved her foot brought just a fraction too much attention to the limb. She was right-handed, I deduced quickly, since both weapons were easier to grab with her right hand than her left. To any other soldier – even to someone as keen-eyed as Commander Preswood – the ruse would be undetectable. But if someone had wanted to employ me as an assassin, I would have been perfectly capable of it. And according to the subtle tells I was seeing, so would the six unassuming Nwandu women on the balcony.

That, in and of itself, was not necessarily a problem. There had been intense security measures in place ever since the Ambassador had arrived, and she was well within her rights to want to defend herself, visiting an unfamiliar and not necessarily friendly planet. But the fact that we hadn’t been informed of her aides’ abilities was disconcerting.

I spotted Bryce across the balcony and moved to intercept him. Even if there was no immediate cause for concern, it would be as well for him and Henderson to know about this.

But before I got even halfway there, a scream cut through the evening, from somewhere below us and off to my left. Before I could do more than look in that direction, a gunshot followed, and then, like a wave breaking over the crowd, every person on the balcony was screaming and running for the safety of the restaurant’s main room.

I spotted Henderson, herding guests back inside, and then Vosh, doing the same thing. Bryce was heading in the opposite direction from the guests, over to the edge of the balcony, in the direction the scream had come from. His pistol was in his hand, his eyes sweeping the darkness. I dashed in his direction, glancing around for my master, but unable to spot him for the time being.

A long barn sat off to the side of the restaurant, where the wine tastings occurred for casual visitors. The ground below us was lit with a smattering of small, orange lights – presumably just enough to let the serving staff fetch wine bottles from storage and ferry them back to the restaurant. I peered into the darkness, keeping my body low behind the thick stone pillars that supported the railing surrounding the balcony. I spotted the door to the barn, some fifty metres away. It was open, light spilling out onto the pathway, and I just caught the back half of a hunched figure going inside, their skin a blotchy mix of cream and brown.

“Geshtoch,” I told Bryce. “Why the hell are there Geshtoch here?” I had my own gun out by now, but there was no further movement outside the barn, giving us nothing to shoot at.

“Orders, sir?” Bryce asked Henderson, as the large man scurried across the balcony to join us.

“Get back inside,” Henderson said. “The Nwandu security team are dealing with the threat. Your job is to protect the Ambassador and the Associates. I want you covering windows and exits. And Preswood, get some of your team to cover the kitchens. Get the kitchen staff into the main room until we have this under control.”

The plan sat ill with me. We were letting foreigners defend our own territory?

“We need to go and see what’s happening out there,” Bryce argued, echoing my thoughts. “There are civilians in the barn. Our job is to protect them.”

But before Henderson could reply, my master arrived to join our group. “All the guests are safe inside,” he reported. I felt a flush of relief at seeing him safe.

“The Ambassador’s aides are actually bodyguards,” I told the rest of them. “There’s plenty of security inside already.”

“I was under the impression that I gave the orders around here,” Henderson snapped. Down in the gardens below us, I saw the stealthy figures of the Nwandu’s security team spreading out, checking the shrubbery and various outbuildings. But they weren’t heading directly for the barn, and yelling at them to let them know where to go could potentially get both them and us killed.

“There are Geshtoch in the barn,” I told Henderson and my master. Nichols arrived just as I spoke, breathless and sweaty.

“Geshtoch? Are they stealing more wine?” he asked, eyes wide and startled.

“What?” I couldn’t help asking, though it was a minor detail. “Why would they do that?”

“I want the lot of you back inside,” Henderson announced, ignoring my question, then he moved at a swift shuffle away from us, back towards the door.

Bryce rolled his eyes at the rest of us. “Yes, sir,” he said, managing to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice. He led the way back to the door, keeping his body low, the rest of us falling in behind him .

Inside, a sergeant from Bryce’s team was conducting a rollcall of sorts, accounting for each of the Associates and asking them in turn whether all of their administration staff had been accounted for. There was a brief panic, until someone reported that three of the missing women were holed up in the bathrooms, but were safe and accounted for.

Bryce and my master were moving across the room, towards the stairs that led to the lower level. I followed them, and if anyone asked, I was perfectly prepared to use the excuse that we were checking the exits on the ground floor. There wasn’t much down there aside from a wide reception room and a few storage cupboards, so it wouldn’t take us long to secure the area. Nichols was on our heels, and neither Bryce nor my master seemed inclined to send him back upstairs.

The immediate problem with the room, we quickly discovered, was the floor-to-ceiling glass panels on the front and back walls.

“Check the back door,” Bryce told me and Nichols, while he and my master checked that the front door was locked. We did so, aware of the risk of being shot, straight through the glass panels, by assailants that we wouldn’t be able to see out in the darkness. Thankfully, no one had attacked us by the time we’d completed the task.

Conducting a further sweep of the room, we discovered a terrified receptionist huddled behind the desk, having been catching up on some paperwork, so we sent him upstairs to join the rest of the guests. Then we all reconvened at the front door, taking what cover there was behind sofas and support pillars.

Bryce and my master exchanged a glance. “Don’t look at me,” my master said. “You’re the fucking commander here.”

“I’m not leaving civilians to the Geshtoch,” Bryce decided. “You don’t have to come-”

“I’m not sitting on my ass while you have all the fun,” my master said, already moving towards the door. “And no, I’m not going to blame you for this. For the sake of official records, I’m acting of my own accord. If Henderson wants to tear a couple of strips off me, he’s welcome to.”

“This is going to put your promotion back another six months,” Bryce said, as he and my master sidled over to the door, taking cover behind the thick wooden panels right beside it.

“Kade, Nichols, stay here and guard the stairs,” Bryce instructed us. “With all this glass around, this place could turn into a shitshow real fast.”

“Yes, sir,” Nichols said… and damn my attentive master, he noticed my deliberate silence on the matter.

“Kade,” he snapped, shooting me a slight glare. “You will stay here. I don’t need you getting in trouble as well.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, not bothering to hide the reluctance in my voice. He knew as well as I did that I considered my place to be by his side .

He gave Bryce a nod, then after a silent countdown, they yanked the front door open and disappeared through the gap. The instant they were gone, I closed the door and locked it again. I plastered myself to a nearby pillar and watched their figures moving silently towards the barn, determined to keep an eye on them, and on anything else that was moving out there.

Nichols was stationed behind a sofa, peering restlessly over the top of it, and since I was temporarily at a loss for anything useful to do, I asked him, “The Geshtoch are stealing wine?”

He snorted. “Yeah. They got a taste for it a couple of years ago, and every few months, they try to break into one of the wineries on the outskirts of the city. There are barriers and electric fences up to keep them out, but they’re smart little fuckers. They keep finding ways through.”

“Why would they attack a winery that’s full of guests? It seems a bit reckless, even for them.”

Nichols shrugged. “To be fair, it’s a Wednesday. This place would normally be dead quiet. Thursday through Sunday are their busy days. Maybe they just expected there would be fewer people around.”

Out in the garden, a small explosion lit up an area of shrubbery, and I glimpsed a Nwandu man fighting with a Geshtoch. Okay, so they weren’t all in the barn after all. “They need more help out there,” I said, to no one in particular.

“Then we should go and help them,” Nichols said, looking at me pleadingly. Technically, I ranked above him, so perhaps he thought I could give him permission to go? “Henderson said to stay here,” I said, not sounding at all happy about it.

“Yeah, and Aiden told you to stay put as well. You can’t, like, disobey him, can you?”

“No,” I said, though the temptation was running fierce through my veins.

“Yeah. Us plebs never get to have any fun.”

Fun was hardly the way I would have described a battle with the Geshtoch, but I took his point. I edged closer to the glass doors, peering out into the garden. My master was out there, fending off the stars only knew how many Geshtoch, and the Nwandu security team seemed to be focusing all their attention on the Geshtoch roaming the gardens, not the ones inside the barn. I heard a scream from the direction of the barn. My hand was on the door handle before I’d thought about it. “He needs help,” I said, and this time, perhaps it was me hoping that Nichols would tell me to go outside. But he couldn’t, though, could he? At this point, not even Henderson could give me that order. My master had told me to stay here. And there had been no wiggle room in the order, either. He wanted me to stay put .

“Dude, you need to take a deep breath and calm down,” Nichols said, tugging at my arm. “You’re breathing, like, super fast.”

I was, but a few rudimentary attempts to calm down proved entirely ineffective. My master needed me. I was supposed to protect him.

I stiffened – if that was even possible, given how tense I was – as I heard a deep voice shouting from the direction of the barn. It wasn’t my master… but then I heard my master’s voice. “Put it down!” he yelled, loud and clear. “Put your gun down!”

My grip on the doorhandle was making my knuckles white. “We should go and help them,” Nichols said, sounding none too certain about it. By all the stars in the galaxy, I wanted to.

A gunshot sounded from the barn, and the sharp crack broke the final tendrils of control I had over myself. I wrenched open the door and sprinted towards the barn, the idea of protecting Aiden the only thought in my mind. I skidded to a halt beside the still-open barn door, peering around the corner to find Aiden and Bryce holed up behind a huge wine barrel, red liquid spilling onto the floor from a bullet hole in the side. On the other side of the room, there were three Geshtoch, crouching behind a long bench that had been pushed onto its side. In between them, five civilians huddled in a corner, the front-most man holding a chair in front of him like a shield. The poor sods must be terrified, if that was the best weapon they’d been able to come up with.

From where I stood, I had a clear shot of two of the Geshtoch, but the third one was protected too well by the bench. “Nichols?” I murmured. He’d followed me along the path, albeit at a slower pace. “I’m going to take out the two nearest Geshtoch. Watch the third one. If he makes a move towards the civilians, shoot him, but do not shoot the civilians. If you can’t get a clear shot, leave him for Bryce and Aiden.”

“Yes, sir,” Nichols whispered. He hunkered down, taking a position below me against the edge of the door.

I sized up my targets. Bullets? Or knives? Or why not one of each, I decided. That would buy me an extra half a second, which was all I needed to get the job done. I pulled a throwing knife out of the sheath on my leg, lined it up, and hurled it across the room. I fired the gun, and the bullet hit the second Geshtoch at the same instant as the knife hit the first one. Then I put a bullet in the first one as well, just to be sure.

Number three scrambled away from us, just as I’d predicted, and a moment later, both Nichols and Aiden had fired at him, sending blood splattering up the wall as both of their shots hit home.

“Clear?” I called, knowing that I didn’t have a clear view of the whole room, and I was relieved when Aiden called back, “All clear.”

“Nichols, watch the door,” I ordered him, before sliding into the room and assessing the civilians. They seemed shaken, but none of them were showing any immediate signs of injury. “Should we get them back to the restaurant?” I asked, knowing Aiden would agree with me.

“This way, folks,” Bryce ordered the little cluster of people. They all sloshed nervously across the wet floor, wine continuing to pour from the hole in the barrel. Bryce paused at the door to check that the coast was clear, and Nichols gave him a wary nod. Then the four of us hurried the group along the path and into the reception room.

“Anyone injured?” Aiden asked them, and we breathed a sigh of relief when they all shook their heads. “Okay, up the stairs and into the main room. There’ll be a guard at the top of the stairs who’ll see you coming.”

The group rushed off, muttering their thanks as they went, leaving the four of us once more guarding the reception room. A long moment of silence passed, and then Aiden turned an unreadable expression on me. “I thought I told you to stay here.”

Despite the reprimand, he didn’t really seem angry with me. He seemed more perplexed. “You did, sir,” I agreed with him.

His frown deepened. “That wasn’t a conditional order, Kade. It wasn’t ‘stay here unless things go bad’. It was ‘stay here because our official orders are to fucking well stay here’.”

“Yes, sir,” I agreed with him again. Why didn’t I feel more guilty about disobeying him? Regardless of his instructions, my final decision to go to his aid still felt right.

“So why did you leave?”

“Let it go, Hill,” Bryce interrupted, in a weary tone. “If anyone gets into trouble, I’ll talk to Henderson about it. That goes for you as well, Nichols. We saved the lives of five civilians, so I think that’ll earn us enough leeway to avoid an official reprimand.”

“No, Bryce, you don’t get it,” Aiden insisted. “Kade didn’t just disobey Henderson’s order. He disobeyed my order.” He looked me over again. “I didn’t think that was even possible.”

Bryce’s eyes opened wider as he finally realised what Aiden was getting at. “So you just… broke your training?” he asked me.

I ducked my head, attempting to display a contrition that I didn’t feel. “Your life was in danger, sir,” I said. “I…” My chest tightened. The thought of him being injured made me shudder. “I needed to protect you.”

“He was seriously fighting with himself,” Nichols butted in, nudging my shoulder in solidarity. “He kept moving towards the door and then turning back. It was only when the gunshot went off that he finally decided to come and help. He’s seriously attached to you, man. And this is just my opinion, but I think that goes deeper than some chemically induced bonding shit that the Eumadians did. I think he really likes you.”

“Do you?” Aiden asked me .

I couldn’t quite summon the courage to look him in the eye. “Of course,” I said to his knees.

“Aw, that’s so fucking sweet,” Nichols crowed. “You two are so gonna get married.”

It was a beautiful idea, and I truly wished that we could, some day. But before we could even consider something as reckless and unconventional as a marriage between a master and his dimari, we had to get through the rest of the hearing with the Eumadians. And before that, we had to get through the rest of tonight.