Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

F our mouths dropped open, surprise catching everyone gathered in the mess, regardless of species.

Elias recovered first. Shaking his head, he said, "No."

"There has to be another way," Nessa added.

Marnie maintained her stunned expression.

Qek clicked thoughtfully. "I like the thunder and lightning analogy, but I am not sure the Guardians would approve."

"You think?" Nessa looked as if she might reach for a hypo-syringe.

"This all we have left!" Felix ground his teeth. "You know the AEF is never going to let him go."

Marnie's lips met one another with a quiet smacking sound and parted again. "And you think the answer is to deliberately antagonize the Guardians."

"The stin. We antagonize the stin and hope the Guardians step in. They're the peacekeepers of the galaxy. We've seen them arresting a stin ship in human territory before. So, we go to the Hub and fly into stin territory."

"You're insane."

"Quite probably. But do you have a better idea? Got a direct line to the Guardians in your bag of Intelligence tricks?"

"No. So far as I know, no one has a direct line to the Guardians."

One man did. Could Zed use his bracelet to contact the Guardians? Somehow, it had connected him to Ryan. What was the range? Were the Guardians already aware the AEF had their proof?

"Let's set a course for the Hub, then." Felix gestured toward the port side of the ship to where the gate to the Hub pooled in space. They couldn't see it at that moment, but it was there, a benevolent eye focused on Mars. A one-way ticket to the center of the galaxy.

"Wait, slow down." Marnie waved her hand over the table top. "Why the Guardians? What interest do they have in Zed?"

"Think it through a minute, Marnie. The end of the war, Zed's lack of…death. His current state of health."

She didn't deliberate for long. "The Guardians fixed him. Holy shit."

"They helped him once. Maybe they'll help him again."

Marnie took a little longer to consider that, and she wasn't the only one. The whole crew observed the pause, each obviously weighing the burden of Felix's plan.

Qek broke the silence. "A course to the Hub?"

No one produced any further objections, and Qek departed for the bridge.

"I'd better go get Kinley strapped down." Nessa trotted toward the med bay.

Marnie followed. "I'll give you a hand."

"‘Holy shit' is underselling this plan." Elias scrubbed his palm over the top of his close-cropped scalp. Felix waited for him to call the crew back to the mess, urge them to reconsider. Instead, he said, "I hope you know what you're doing."

Felix didn't dare tell him otherwise.

Zed inhaled a shaky breath as his little craft set down back where he'd started, on one of the shuttle docks of the Cambridge . Unlike his departure, dozens of people milled about on the deck—no few of which were fully armed marines, their stiff postures radiating either discomfort with confronting a war hero, or an eagerness for action. Maybe a bit of both.

He pushed himself up, laying a hand on the shuttle's console for balance. His legs were less than steady, but he refused to walk out among the enemy with anything less than firm, sure steps. Closing his eyes, he sought his meditation space—only to have it interrupted by amplified orders reverberating through the shuttle's walls.

Yeah, yeah. He walked to the shuttle door and triggered the seal. It hissed open, the sound accompanied by the click of a dozen rifles being prepared for whatever Zed planned for resistance.

He hadn't planned anything. If he'd been healthy, if he'd been sure the Chaos was out of range of the Cambridge , he might have Zoned and phase-shifted, showing the soldiers the benefits of the AEF's special training. As it was, the total sum of his resistance was a grimace and a glare as he stepped down the shuttle's steps.

"Hands where we can see them, Major!" someone shouted at him.

He held up his hands, middle fingers extended.

Bradley stepped out of the crowd, Preston beside him. Fuck, not good. Zed froze at the bottom of the shuttle stairs. He'd known this was what he faced, but willingly walking toward that woman was more than his exhausted, battered body was prepared to do.

The soldiers' commander barked an order, and before Zed could react, four raced forward to secure him. Cuffs were snapped on his wrists behind his back, then fastened to a belt looped around his waist to limit the movement of his arms.

Then, only then, did Preston step forward. She brandished a hypo-syringe the way a warrior of old might wield a sword. "Just a tranq," she promised. "Can't have you causing any more trouble or trying to escape those cuffs."

He tried to jerk away but the soldiers held him still. Preston pressed the syringe to his neck and glanced up at him—the gleam of amusement in her eyes told him she'd lied, right before he felt the familiar, sickening burn of poison in his veins. He stumbled under the onslaught, reawakening the pain in his foot, pain the poison stoked higher. Higher.

Not again. Please .

"Motherfucker!" He jerked sideways, trying to get to Preston. Behind his back, fingers tightened into claws—nails spearing into the same talons as the stin. Giant, sharp claws.

No—hallucination.

The thought had no weight, not when he could feel the claws cutting into his skin. He would tear apart the cuffs. He would rip through everyone who stood between him and the good fucking doctor . He strained against the restraints. Felt them give. He roared, the sound like a lion in the small space. No, he was a lion. He'd rip her to shreds, he'd rip them all to shreds, every last one?—

"Jesus Christ," someone muttered.

Zed barely saw the rifle butt that slammed into his forehead.

Felix swallowed over the queasy feeling in his gut. The quick journey through the pair of gates connecting Sol to Tau Centauri, also known as the Hub, or the center of the galaxy as determined by the Guardians, always unsettled him. His mind couldn't cope with popping between stars in as little as three seconds. Or maybe it was the three-second halt in reality that bothered him so much.

Beside him, Qek caressed the pilot's console, her long blue fingers moving across the display in a coordinated ballet. She clicked contentedly and turned to Felix. "Smooth sailing."

Felix offered a faint smile in return. "The calm before the storm." Or the eye of the hurricane.

Turning back to her console, the ashushk clicked again, the throat flutter more agitated this time. "Setting a course for the stin station."

Three active stations orbited Tau Centauri: human, stin and ashushk. There were more than three gates at the Hub, but only those three were active. The human gate terminated in human space, approximately two hundred thousand kilometers from the stin station. In theory, the Hub was a demilitarized zone. A sanctuary. Despite the recent peace accord, tension still existed between humanity and the stin, however, meaning the border between supposedly peaceful regions of space would be patrolled—by the AEF, the stin and perhaps the Guardians.

Ignoring the fear freezing his lungs, Felix completed his post-jump checklist and confirmed coordinates. Qek could have handled the entire operation herself, but he needed the distraction.

He turned to Qek, opened his mouth. No sound came out.

Qek clicked again, filling the awkward silence, then reached over to touch his hand. "Your reasoning is sound, Fixer. The stin will not fire upon us as we are unarmed. Our only concern is avoiding the AEF patrols."

"What about the Guardians?"

"They have scanned our ship multiple times. It is marked and cataloged. They will recognize us."

"How is it you have more faith in my plan than I do?"

"I have faith in you."

That should have sounded reassuring.

Marnie poked her head through the open door panel. "Dieter just uploaded coordinates for AEF patrols at the Hub."

"How—" Felix shook his head. "Never mind." Any friend of Marnie's would have several plays, and Dieter had already proved he had more than one deck in his hand. Felix turned to check his console. Several new contacts winked across the display.

"Adjusting our course." Qek's fingers slipped into a competent blur.

Felix waited for her to finish before examining their new trajectory. The zigzag path through space looked…ridiculous.

"They're going to think we're drunk."

"They shouldn't even know we're here," Marnie said.

Qek clicked. "We have not been contacted by Hemera."

Normally, the human station would have contacted them within a minute of arrival through the gate.

"I guess that's a good a test as any." Felix's skin prickled. They'd never actually confirmed if the Cambridge had been aware of their presence before they made contact with Zed's shuttle.

"Dieter will be thrilled." Marnie tapped a display over her bracelet, taking further advantage of their new two-way jazer capability.

Ignoring the murmured conversation behind them, Felix concentrated on the navigational display. Minutes ticked by, marked only by quiet clicks from Qek as she adjusted their course to keep them at maximum sensor range. Elias arrived on the bridge, the hand over his midsection proving Felix wasn't the only one with an unsettled stomach. Seeking to distract himself, Felix began plotting alternate courses and storing the coordinates, just in case. He quickly fell into the half trance that enveloped him when he worked, only to jerk out of it when Qek emitted a louder series of clicks.

"Patrol Delta Six has adjusted their heading. I believe they may have spotted us."

"Shit." Breath stuttered in Felix's throat. They were more than halfway through AEF space. Thirty more minutes and they'd be through. "The station. Head for Hemera."

"The closer we get to the station, the more likely we are to be spotted."

"I know, but running in space isn't going to get us anywhere. We need an entirely new angle of approach. We can hide in traffic for a bit and join the gate queue, and then fall out of it." All while apparently invisible, but not. "Shit."

Elias stabbed a finger toward the dimensional map of the Hub. "What's that, over there?"

Felix consulted the map. "That's…" A stationary point, so not a patrol.

"I think you would call it a junkyard," Qek said. "If I recall correctly, it is privately owned and contains repossessed ships. Hemera and the Hub have proven a profitable point to acquire?—"

"Go there," Elias interrupted. "We can hide behind the decommissioned hulls or something, right?"

"Maybe. But they'll see us when we leave." Felix adjusted their heading anyway.

Nessa sidled into the crowded bridge. Elias quickly filled her in on the situation. Felix tuned out all conversation again as he directed a course into the junkyard.

"Can we activate any of the wreckage? Make it appear live?" Nessa asked.

Marnie tapped her bracelet and began flicking through displays. "I can scan for any live systems, see if I can't ping a couple. Comm traffic might make a few of them show up on sensors."

"If we had any weapons capability, we could simply destroy a few empty hulls as a distraction."

Openmouthed, Felix stared at Qek. "Seriously?"

"I saw it in a holo."

"Has the patrol ship tried to contact us?" Elias asked.

"No," Qek reported. "At this point, I think they are simply investigating an anomalous reading."

"So we might be panicking with no good reason," Nessa said.

"Given we're using experimental technology to avoid AEF patrols in order to cross a line defined by a peace accord, I think panicking is part and parcel, here." Marnie fiddled with her bracelet. "I'm detecting no ripcomms. They're acting independently, which means they're not that worried."

Must be nice.

"So lighting up a derelict hull is only going to draw their attention." Felix shot Qek a look. The ashushk offered one of her curiously human shrugs in response.

"Exactly." Marnie said. She dropped her wrist, both hands dangling at her sides in a posture of loose relaxation. "Let's just sit tight a minute."

They sat tight within the virtual shadows of derelict hulls for twenty minutes. At first, every second felt endless and filled with impending doom. Felix fought the panic he knew they all felt before finally reaching for the soldier inside. He then cataloged the situation, lined up his responses. By the time he was done, breath rasped quietly against his dry throat and his pulse had regulated.

The patrol ship did not approach the junkyard. Felix guided the Chaos back out into empty space.

He held his breath as they crossed the imaginary line separating humanity from the stin. He was almost disappointed when nothing happened to impede their journey.

"We don't have any information regarding stin patrols," Marnie said. "But as we're not trying to sneak past anything, I suggest we plot the fastest course to their station."

They were hailed a moment later. The message repeated three times, the last in Standard.

"Unidentified vessel. Be advised you are in breach of the Drin Accord."

The upgraded comm console transmitted the stin voice with surprising clarity. Every growling rasp translated with near perfection plucked at Felix's deepest fears. His shoulders pinched together as the memory of sharp claws skittered down his spine.

Stin space. What the fuck was he doing in stin space?

"What is the Drin Accord?" Nessa asked.

"That's what they call the peace accord," Marnie said.

They'd named it after one of their own generals, smug bastards.

"Retreat to human space," the comm advised.

"They're pretty short with their messages. No please, no thank you." All heads turned toward Elias. He held up his hands. "Just saying."

"I advise we do not respond," Marnie said.

"Agreed," Felix murmured as he checked the course Qek had plotted. It hardly needed checking. A straight run for the stin station.

"Unidentified vessel, respond."

Thirty seconds passed before the console hissed again.

"Retreat to human space."

"You know, I'm actually surprised they haven't just fired on us." Elias's voice had a strained sound to it.

"We haven't answered any of their hails and our shield technology is probably confusing their sensors," Marnie said.

"But they know we're human."

"It is highly unlikely an ashushk vessel would attempt to cross this line," Qek pointed out.

"Because you're not this stupid?" Felix muttered.

"Because we are a peaceful species. Also, our ships follow a very different configuration."

Ashushk ships were round. In fact, they bore more than a passing resemblance to the soap bubbles they used as housing on their planet.

"Based on our trajectory, we came from human space," Marnie pointed out. "Therefore, it's a safe assumption, shielding and stupidity aside."

"Unidentified vessel, note this final warning."

As he inhaled, Felix felt rather than heard his crewmates doing the same, as if they all grabbed a final breath. Then Marnie and Qek exhaled at the same time.

"We've been painted," Marnie said.

With a rapid series of clicks, Qek confirmed the fact that the Chaos had been pinged by a weapon system.

"How far to the station?" Elias asked.

"Thirty thousand klicks," Felix answered.

"Can we go any faster?" Marnie asked.

"I thought you said they wouldn't fire on us!" Nessa said.

Qek clicked.

"They haven't," Felix pointed out. "Targeting us is just a warning." He glanced at Marnie for confirmation.

"The stin vessel has launched a short-range missile." Qek's forehead smoothed alarmingly. "Projected course indicates it will detonate in front of us, if we do not increase speed. It is what I think you would call a ‘shot across the bow.'"

On the forward holoscreen, Felix watched the missile burst apart, vented gas misting the dark with clouds of incendiary vapor. The detonation was unimpressive, the missile designed to do more damage against a target containing an atmosphere. The Chaos rocked and alarms pealed. A single orange LED flared to life, indicating a nonessential system had been damaged by the concussion of the blast.

"Unidentified vessel, this is AEF patrol Gamma Four. Please redirect your course back to human space."

"Oh, shit," Elias breathed.

The AEF were now involved. They must have been alerted by the stin, or have been monitoring the stin patrols.

"What do we do?" Nessa asked.

Fear and determination fought for dominance in Felix's middle. "We stay the course," he ground out between tightly clenched teeth. An ache sped along his jaw and down into his neck.

"Unidentified vessel…"

"Please identify…"

The comm traffic continued, each source operator sounding more pissed off as the Chaos continued to ignore all hails.

"We've been targeted by both patrols," Qek reported.

"The AEF patrol crossed the border?"

"Yes."

"Can you spell diplomatic incident ?"

"Oh, my freaking God," Nessa breathed. "What if we start a war?"

"We're not going to start a war." They might be putting a serious dent in the peace accord, however. Speaking of which, where were the peacekeepers of the galaxy?

A familiar tingling sensation crept along Felix's fingers. By the time the mysterious itch reached his balls, he knew what it was. A second later, the Chaos decelerated, consoles flashing, alarms shrill, and a new voice boomed out of the comm.

"Human vessel Chaos ."

Felix wondered if squeezing his legs together would tighten his hold on his bladder.

He smacked the comm, opening the channel. "Guardians!" His pulse ticked wildly. The calm he needed to deliver his rehearsed speech seemed to flick away from his twitching fingers. Words crowded his tongue, nonetheless. "They have Zed. The AEF. They've got Zander. Your proof . He didn't do it, what they're accusing him of. He didn't give away AEF secrets. He won't give away yours, either. I know he won't. That's not Zed."

Did any of this matter to the Guardians?

The console blinked as signals from the patrol ships registered. The competing requests for cooperation were lost beneath the cacophony of alarms.

Felix plunged on. "They'll cut him up, trying to figure out why he's alive." His voice quavered. What if that was the Guardians' intent? What if they meant for the AEF to figure it out? No! "I don't believe you saved him just to let him die and that's what will happen. They can't deny the project if Zed is alive and well." A warm hand closed over his shoulder. Felix didn't look up from the console. "Please," he gasped. "Please help us get him back."

Why weren't they answering?

"Help me…"

"Identify yourself."

The response confused him. Halted his panic, stopped him still in the middle of a desolate road. Hadn't the Guardians greeted their ship by name?

"We're human vessel Chaos !"

"No, the individual speaking. Are you the one called Flick?"

A lump blocked Felix's throat.

No one calls me Flick anymore.

Flick is dead.

"Yes."

Silence rolled out of the comm, muting the alarms. Oddly, neither the stin nor human patrol seemed compelled to intrude on the quiet. Perhaps they knew better, or maybe the Guardians had invisible fingers wrapped around their testicles.

"Zanderanatolius chose you." A synthesized voice couldn't communicate displeasure, but the statement had an odd tone to it, as if the Guardians were questioning a decision. Was that because Zed had chosen him? Over what? Before Felix could form a question, the Guardians spoke again. "The Allied Earth Forces are holding him against his will?"

"Yes, aboard the Cambridge . It's currently located in the Sol system. We have coordinates?—"

"That will not be necessary . "

Every alarm wired into the Chaos yelled again as the small vessel lurched, consoles flashing and bulkheads straining. Then blackness enveloped them, blanketing the ship in complete and utter silence.

They were moving him again.

Zed tried to lift his head—tried to move his feet in some semblance of steps, too—but he didn't really care where they were taking him. Or who they were. Marines, he assumed. Guys he might've worked alongside, once upon a time. He wondered if they knew how expendable they were. How the AEF viewed them as nothing more than tools to use and discard.

He should probably tell them, but he was so fucking tired. Someone had dragged razors along his esophagus, then pulled out some sandpaper to give him a good body-wide exfoliation.

They dumped him into a chair. Zed listened to the slide and click of chains and manacles being fastened to stationary objects. He kept his eyes closed and his chin lowered, and didn't react when someone gently nudged him straight in his chair. Yeah, falling over would probably be uncomfortable. Then again, even the hint of lying horizontal again sounded good.

" This is the guy who had your marines scrambling, General?"

Ice clinked against glass, followed by the unmistakable burble of liquid being poured. Zed's eyelids fluttered as he seriously considered putting the effort into opening them and raising his head.

"Maj—" Bradley broke off. "Zander Anatolius, yes, sir."

Shit . Bradley was calling someone "sir." On the plus side, he'd remembered what Zed had said about the rank. Yay, go him. Zed put more effort into opening his eyes, but they really didn't want to cooperate.

"He looks like crap."

A snort sounded and Zed thought for a minute he'd managed to make his opinion about the man's observation known. "This is the effect of Preston's poison?"

Clothing rustled, as if Bradley shifted or shrugged. "He's having trouble shaking it off."

Because it's poison , asshole! Even in training, they'd never administered doses of the venom so close together. Had Preston hoped it would push Zed that much closer to the madness the AEF expected him to fall into?

"You bury the record of that action so deep neither the sun nor the holy powers of Anatolius lawyers can find it, General."

The softest sigh escaped from Bradley. "What record, sir?"

"Good man."

Whoever this guy was, he knew what Preston had done. Approved of it. Anger spiked through Zed. He tried to grab it and use it, but exhaustion made the emotion slippery. Still, he managed to grit his teeth and clench his hands, rattling the chains of his restraints.

"You coming around, son?" Bradley asked at his right.

Zed cracked one eye open, enough to fasten a glare on Bradley. Maybe Bradley hadn't wielded the hypo-syringe, but he'd known what was going to happen—twice—and he hadn't stopped it. That made him just as culpable, not matter how much regret Zed saw on the older man's face. "Not your son," he growled.

The other man in the room laughed. "He's got you there." Ice clinked and liquor sloshed, then the glass was placed on a flat surface with a thunk. "Are you aware enough to talk, Major?"

"Not a major anymore," Zed said. "The AEF can go fuck itself."

"I'm going to take that as a yes. I'm Admiral Michael Saito, in charge of Military Intelligence for the AEF."

"Oh," Zed said, managing a weak nod. "Then you can especially go fuck yourself."

"He must've been fun to work with, Thomas."

The general made a noncommittal noise.

Sucking in a breath, Zed finally managed to lift his head and focus on the admiral. He stood on the opposite side of the large desk in front of Zed. A quick cataloging of the rich wood paneling, ship models, certificates and other awards visible in his peripheral vision suggested that they were in the Admiral's ready room. Other than himself and the two officers, no one else was in the room. No witnesses. The admiral himself was a short man but stocky. He sported a haircut more appropriate for someone Zed's age or younger—though maybe Saito was actually that young. It was hard to tell. No lines etched his face, but that might have been thanks to good genes or expensive cosmetic enhancement rather than youth. He wore the same dark gray uniform Bradley did; a bit crisper than the daily wear for junior officers and grunts, but nowhere close to the formality of the AEF dress uniform.

Saito leaned forward, hands braced on the desk, the fingers of one tapping out a random beat. "Here's the thing, Zander." He paused, one corner of his lips curving. "I can call you Zander, right? Since you don't like Major ?"

Zed glared at him.

"You're a security risk. A clear and present danger to the safety and health of AEF forces. Not only that, you have conspired to share—and, if I'm not mistaken, have shared—AEF intelligence with alien co-conspirators and members of the media in order to further your own agenda. Whatever that may be."

Adrenaline burned off some of the fatigue in Zed's veins. He had no doubt the admiral knew every detail of Zed's career and probably every detail of every off-the-books op the AEF had conducted in the past ten years. A few years back, Zed might've found him intimidating. Or…well, he might have pretended to. Now, not so much.

"No, Michael, if we're going to be honest , let's be honest. I'm not dead and I'm not insane, and that's the issue here. Isn't it?" Zed turned to Bradley. "I gave you my word that I will tell you what you want to know. You didn't need?—"

Saito cut him off. "I have enough to make you legitimately disappear. You're a terrorist. A traitor. Public opinion won't protect you now. Your name won't, either."

Zed gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the flash of triumph that crossed Saito's expression. "I already agreed?—"

"I don't give a shit." Saito shrugged, his eyebrows mimicking the upward movement of his shoulders. "I really don't. I don't care if you're the source of the leak. I don't care if you tell me about what happened on Ashushk Prime. Don't get me wrong, it would be a nice footnote to the Project Dreamweaver records—which is why I played along with Thomas's plans up to this point—but it's unnecessary. As far as I'm concerned, that experiment was disgusting, its output horrendous and it needs to fade away. Every other participant is following the expected path of dissolution. Except you. Which means you need to disappear and stay disappeared." Saito opened a drawer in his desk and drew out a matter pistol, which he aimed at Zed.

Beside Zed, Bradley froze. "Admiral, this isn't?—"

Saito didn't shift his gaze from Zed. "Your priorities are not my priorities."

"But his family." Bradley swallowed, the sound audible in the otherwise quiet room. "Alexander Anatolius is a bigger threat than you realize."

"Don't presume to think you have knowledge I don't, General." The slightest emphasis on the rank was obviously intended to put Bradley back at heel.

"No, sir."

"Anatolius Senior will be annoying for some time, I have no doubt, but there is little he can actually do. The AEF has more ships, more personnel and greater weaponry. He's a dog with no bite."

"But—"

"You had your opportunity to get information from him. It didn't work. You think he's going to tell the truth now?" Saito arched a brow.

Bradley considered Zed for a moment, no doubt remembering the lie he'd told about Ryan. "No, sir."

"Then we're done. This isn't my favorite option—it makes for a hell of a lot of extra work, along with meetings, and judicial boards, and so on—but Zander will be shot and killed while trying to escape custody. We can get answers from the autopsy." He glanced at Bradley. "I need to know you're on board, Thomas."

Zed sucked in a breath, trying damned hard not to let his fear show. He didn't want to die, especially not after the Guardians had given him back the life he'd thought he'd lost a long time ago. He poked at the Zone, but couldn't slip into the altered state. He was too tired, too sore, too fucked up from the second dose of stin poison. His cuff didn't seem to work on the manacles—or maybe he needed to concentrate to get it to manipulate locks, he had no idea.

Bradley remained silent. The general's dark eyes flicked to Zed's, and there was no mistaking the conflict there. Though Zed didn't want to, he understood the position Bradley was in. If he acted to defend Zed, he'd likely end up shot as well. No doubt Saito wouldn't hesitate to add another casualty to the report if needed. Hell, maybe he'd find some way to blame Bradley's death on Zed.

"There has to be another option, Admiral," he said softly.

"No options," Saito barked. "Yes or no."

Bradley's jaw clenched, the muscle flexing. He opened his mouth to answer?—

Warmth brushed Zed's mind. He closed his eyes, reveling in the touch he thought he'd never feel again. It was like a grandmother's hand on his brow, brushing back a stray lock of hair, proprietary in the best sort of way. His cuff tingled and Zed smiled, a wide, open grin.

"I'm gonna propose a different option," he said, just as the familiar sense of a Guardian scan cascaded through the ship.