Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
Fish don’t care about your feelings
The music had been very loud. That explained why I’d lain awake staring at the ceiling for most of the night with Silli draped across my chest, listening to nothing.
Of course there was nothing to listen to.
The festival was over. I was home, but the memory of the music kept going. Very loud music. That was all.
I was on the beach with my fishing pole before first light.
Silli came with me, which he made clear was a sacrifice.
He had expected breakfast first. I offered dried fish.
He took it, looked at it, and set it down, clearly insulted.
Fine. Picky little bugger. I broke off a piece of bait fish and gave him the eyes instead.
He accepted those with great condescension, as though doing me a favor.
“That girl spoiled you,” I muttered. “If you think I’m going to feed you spiced fruit paste every day, you’ve another thing coming.”
He ignored me and ate his fish eyes.
The sun was still below the horizon, the water somewhere between night and morning.
My feet were in the cool sand and my mug was warm in one hand and my rod in the other.
My line was out but nothing was biting, yet.
It was the hour before anything else begins, when the world is quiet and entirely itself.
I was not thinking about Maive.
I took a sip of the nutty, slightly sweet beverage and sighed. It was one of the better things about living near the village.
Not thinking about her hand at the back of my neck. The warmth of it. The smallness.
A fish tested the lure and swam on. I adjusted my grip.
Not thinking about the way she’d smelled, which was the sea and warm bread, which I found unreasonably irritating even now.
A wave came in cold over my feet.
Stop it, I thought. You are a retired mercenary standing on a beach. There is nothing to think about.
I focused on the water. Tried to, anyway.
Silli had scampered down to the tide line and was furiously digging in random places.
Every few minutes I heard him working the edge of the surf.
He caught things there I’d never been able to identify and probably didn’t want to.
Occasionally he looked back up to verify I was still in the same place. I was. I wasn’t going anywhere.
The sky lightened. The water shifted from gray to low, beaten gold. A pair of the big blue biters I’d been cataloging were working about twenty meters out, their shadows just visible beneath the surface. I watched them and forced my thoughts to neutral things. Anything but her.
B2 whirred up to me. “There is an intruder alert from the—”
“North,” I finished for it. “Shocking.”
Another Runam. I could hear the footsteps, now. This person had a cheerful rhythm, and I figured out who it was even before I could see him. I did not turn around.
“You’re up early,” Pasek said, coming to stand beside me.
“I live here,” I said.
“Beautiful morning.”
“Yes.”
He put his hands behind his back and looked out at the water with great satisfaction, as though he’d arranged all of it himself. I waited.
“Good festival last night,” he said.
“It was.”
“The pindlok was exceptional.”
“It was.” I thought about those inner pieces Braija had promised. They had fully delivered. That was not the current topic.
“Maive seemed very pleased with how everything went,” Pasek said.
“Good.” Sweet fleck, would this man stop his incessant chatter?
“She liked your gift for her.” He accepted my mug from my hand. I’d extended it because this was going to happen regardless. He took a sip and returned it. “You look tired.”
“The music was loud.”
“Mm.” A pause. “Only the music?”
“Only the music,” I said.
He considered this. Silli chose that moment to come trotting back up from the tide line and scale my leg and plant himself on my shoulder with wet paws. He looked at Pasek and made a short, friendly sound.
“Good morning, Silli,” Pasek said warmly.
My animal friend was a traitor. I had raised him poorly.
“What are you doing here, Pasek?” I asked. “There is clearly something on your mind, so spit it out.”
He smiled. “Did you enjoy yourself? Last night.”
“I ate pindlok and talked to people.”
“And?”
“And what?” I snapped the line harder than I should have and the fish that had been nibbling got away.
Pasek pressed his lips together. That expression never led anywhere good. “She kissed you,” he said.
Not a question. I turned very slowly and looked at him.
He wasn’t smiling. This was an irritating, private satisfaction, the expression of someone who figured he had a good lead on some hot gossip and was going to poke around for the truth until it finally came out.
“When you came back out of that building,” he said, “there was a look on your face. On both of your faces.”
“There was no look,” I responded.
“Yes, there was,” he insisted. “I know it. Everyone knows that look.”
“You know nothing.” I maneuvered my cup away from him as he reached for it again. “And even if you did, you’d be wise to mind your own business.”
“I’ve known Maive my whole life,” he said, ignoring me. “I’ve seen her interested in exactly one man before you, and he had the same look.” He tilted his head. “Knocked sideways. That’s the phrase.”
“I suggest you stop talking,” I said. “Or I’ll toss you in the ocean.”
“I swim,” he replied pleasantly.
“Not after I break your legs.”
He laughed—genuinely, full, showing his teeth. How far I’d fallen. No one was afraid of me anymore.
“She’s the finest person I know,” Pasek said, when he’d composed himself. “She’s given everything to this village for as long as I can remember and she doesn’t ask for much back.” He looked at me directly. “She deserves someone who cares for her.”
I watched where my line entered the water. I had nothing to say to that, but I wondered about the man who’d had her heart first. What had happened to him? He’d died, obviously. No one would willingly leave Maive.
“I think you care for her,” Pasek said.
I grunted but said nothing more. He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t like having my feelings spread out and on display like that.
Especially since I wasn’t even sure what these feelings were.
The extent of them. The depth of them. It was all too big to contemplate, like this ocean.
The water undulated. A large seabird sailed over the top of the water, calling once.
“Go home, Pasek” I said wearily. “Surely you have better things to do than come out here and harass a tired old man.”
“You’re hardly old,” he scoffed. “And neither is Maive.” He turned toward the direction he’d come, but tossed over his shoulder as he walked away, “She was happy this morning.” The words were almost lost on the wind. “I thought you should know.”
Then he was gone.
I stood on my beach with that information and did nothing useful with it. She was happy this morning. In the village, to the north, Maive was happy. A smile curved my mouth without my permission.
By the stars, I thought. I am in serious trouble.
After a while, I reeled in my line. The fish were not interested in what I was offering this morning and there was no point pretending otherwise.
I dropped my rod on the deck and brought my empty mug inside.
A single shadow cast over the exuberance and enjoyment of the previous night.
It was the reason why I sat down before my command panel.
She was happy. I wanted her to stay that way. I wanted all of them to stay that way.
I pulled up my database of galactic manufactured surveillance and reconnaissance equipment, cross-referenced against Aila’s description. Silver body, small enough to pass for a bird at a distance. Red optical sensors on a blinking cycle. Lateral movement, hover capability, no audible propulsion.
Twelve results.
Three were decommissioned Munmal military units—surplus hardware that turned up on abandoned planets without invitation, long after whoever had left it there was gone.
Two were commercial survey drones built for mining operations, which made sense given Podnos-9’s history.
One I knew immediately: a guild reconnaissance model I’d used in my former career a few times.
The remaining six were of various manufacturers from across the quadrant, at least one brand I’d seen on the Durbok’s shelves.
All twelve matched Aila’s description loosely. Not one of them matched precisely.
I stared at the screen wishing I’d seen this drone with my own eyes.
Derelict equipment on stripped planets was common enough.
Whatever outfit had worked Podnos-9 may have left things running when they departed.
A survey drone executing a dead survey path, blinking its sensors at trees that had grown back in the years since, was a reasonable explanation for what the small girl had seen and chased into the trees west of the village.
I closed the search.
Then I opened B2’s programming interface and extended its patrol range two kilometers to the west. Routine maintenance. These things needed updating.
I went back outside.
Silli had found my fishing rod where I’d left it on the deck and was attacking the reel with utter commitment. I stood over him.
“There’s a hook on there,” I said.
He went still. His dark eyes came up.
“You won’t be happy if your paw finds it.” Why did I insist on talking to this animal?
He released the reel and began grooming his face with both paws.
I took the rod and went back to the water. The morning was fully bright now. The ocean glinting gold and moving. Not far to the north was a village where a woman had apparently woken up happy, and I was standing here on my beach with a fishing rod and nothing on my mind at all.
I cast the line and watched it arc out over the low waves. I was getting considerably worse at lying to myself.