Chapter 32
Nia tried to stretch, stiffness cramping her muscles. Her elbow hit something hard, making her eyes fly open.
The canopy’s viewer showed the never-ending view of stars dotting the black of space. A masculine and minty scent enveloped her. Shifting her weight, she turned. Pain shot through her nape and spine from being so scrunched. Mace’s biceps flexed beneath her cheek.
Her parched and swollen throat screamed when she tried to swallow.
“Here,” Mace murmured, the timbre of his voice rumbling through her body. He passed her a thin ration tube.
Twisting off the cap, she sucked back the gooey mass. It moistened her tongue and throat while settling the growling of her stomach. She shoved the leftover packaging into the reclamation compartment.
Mace wouldn’t allow her to hold her body away from his and pulled her flush against his chest. Resting her head on his shoulder, she relaxed. A flutter erupted in her stomach when his lips brushed her ear.
“How long was I asleep?” she asked, her voice heavy with fatigue.
He touched the front panel and it beeped. “Sixteen hours.”
A long time.Maybe it had something to do with the mind moles. Or the guilt.
The arms around her middle and the lips against her head couldn’t erase what had happened, how she might have had a hand in it despite Mace’s assurances.
“What did they do to you?” he asked quietly against her ear.
She shook her head, not wanting to talk about it, but when the arm around her squeezed gently, she knew she had to give him something. “It hurt, but it was all mental. All in my head.”
His body shifted beneath hers, like he would demand more, when she saw the melted patch of uniform on his arm.
“You’re injured.” She sat up straight, bumping his chin.
“It’s just a graze.”
“Is there a med kit in here?”
“Probably behind the seat. It’s not worth fussing over.”
“Are you trying to win the martyr-of-the-year award?”
A breath puffed against her forehead. “All right.” He jostled her forward, reaching, then pulled a med kit from behind him.
She didn’t waste any time peeling his uniform away from the injury and regenerated the damaged tissue. When she was finished, she passed him the kit and snuggled into his chest.
“Where are we headed?” she asked after a while.
“Somewhere safe to lay low for a while.”
She frowned at his vague answer. Leaning forward, she read the nav display. Unease skittered through her. “Are we flying through CORE space?”
“Yeah.” His arm flexed around her.
Nia’s heart beat uncomfortably in her chest. CORE space. A month ago, she would have been elated. Since yesterday, she didn’t want to have anything to do with the CORE.
And they might be in a CORE fighter right now, but the protection of its camouflage would only last for so long.
Trying to shed the apprehension creeping through her body, she leaned into Mace’s chest. Her heart throbbed painfully at what had happened, what she’d done. The CORE had control of Orion, and she didn’t see how that would change anytime soon. Two Guardians protected it, with probably more to come. Thinking of defenders and administrators swarming all over Orion unfettered made her skin crawl.
Instead of allowing those imaginings to take over her brain, she turned slightly to study Mace.
Stubble across his jaw gave him a scruffy appearance. His hair was mussed and on Orion, she’d seen him run his hands through it. Concentration pinched his features as he monitored the ship’s systems. Nia barely resisted the urge to smooth his brow.
His piercing blue eyes flicked to hers and softened.
“Are we still married?” she blurted.
His eyebrows jumped. “Technically…” She narrowed her eyes when his voice trailed off. “Yes. Our situation stands. You’d own everything of mine if I died.”
The words so casually spoken made her stomach drop. “Don’t say that.”
“You always deserve the truth, izar.” He tucked a curl behind her ear.
“What does that word mean?”
“Izar?”
She nodded.
“Light. My light.” He pressed his lips against her hair.
A sigh escaped her, unbidden, and Nia closed her eyes.
After a while, he said, “You’re not my captive, Nia. Not anymore.”
Relief tangled with dread in her chest. She should have been happy to hear those words, but they created more questions than answers.
She couldn’t trust anyone—except maybe the man holding her.
“Why do you go by Nia?”
A half-laugh puffed between her lips. “Wouldn’t you if your name was Euphenia?”
“My full name is Macedenia, and I don’t go by Nia.”
Shocked, she spun around as much as she could. “Really? That’s your full name?”
Humor crinkled his eyes. “No. Not really.”
On a disgusted exhale, she turned around again. “Not funny.”
“I thought it was a little funny.”
She shook her head, then turned her head to meet his eyes again. “Why do I only hear one name for Tellusians? Never a last name?”
“Tellusians only use one name. Long ago, it was to have a bit of anonymity from the authorities. We’ve stuck with it all this time.”
She faced forward again. It was a strange tradition to keep when anyone could be identified by genetic testing.
After a while, Mace cleared his throat. “When I first learned of your lineage, I did some research.”
Tension climbed through her body. “What did you find?”
“Your father is Bret Jannex from Jupiter One. He’s fifth in line for the Chancellorship, which makes you nineteenth.”
Pressure continued to build in her chest. “You know more than I do. I’ve never kept track.”
“And it was hard to find images of you,” he continued. “You don’t go to any of the events the rest of the ruling class seem to favor.”
She didn’t have an answer because it was true. She’d never enjoyed the opulence most ruling class children took advantage of on a regular basis.
“It got me wondering why a ruling class socialite served on a medical station during high conflict.” He kept his tone mild. “I would have thought you’d be gearing up for an administrator’s position in the Lunar colonies.”
Nia choked out a laugh. “You sound like my mother.” Then she shook her head. “I wouldn’t call myself a socialite. Politics isn’t my thing. I became a doctor to help people, not to sit in a cushy chair behind a desk. That’s what my mother wanted, not me.”
His arms gave her a gentle squeeze, and she sank into his chest. When he didn’t continue with his questions, she closed her eyes. Despite her sixteen-hour sleep, her mind needed to shut off. She dozed in and out of consciousness, between bad memories and fear for the future.
The front panel buzzed. Nia straightened to read the nav display. “That’s a CORE outpost.”
“I know the person in charge,” Mace said against her temple. “And I’m hoping they’ll be able to help. I need to send you home, Nia.”
Her stomach dropped. The words should have comforted her. Thoughts of home were the only things that kept her sane these past weeks…the only thing she’d wanted.
But after what had happened on the Guardian, she didn’t feel like the CORE was the safety net it once was. Those two men had tortured her when she’d already been forced to speak the truth.
Her tension didn’t ease as they neared the distinctive design of a deep space outpost, its conical shape bulging in the middle. Mace didn’t signal the station but flew underneath beside a docked shuttle. The outpost was too small for a shuttle bay but had docking clamps. The clamps grabbed on with a thud and a moment later, a docking tube descended to the canopy, the stars disappearing from sight.
The tube sealed, and as soon as the fighter indicated a stable connection, Mace retracted the canopy. A ladder descended.
Mace lifted her by her hips. “Climb on up.”
As soon as she entered the narrow construct of the tube, Mace elevated her so her foot could catch on the lowest rung. The memory of what had happened in the emergency shaft on Orion swept through her. Panic squeezed her chest. She heard the screams again, the thumping of the bodies hitting one another as they fell. She couldn’t move. Her breaths wedged in her throat.
Then Mace was there, his arm wrapping around her hips, face pressed in her lower back. “I’ve got you.” His body heat settled her. “One foot in front of the other.”
Swallowing around the asteroid in her throat, she did as he said, concentrating on the next rung, pushing the screams out of her head.
It seemed a long time before she emerged through the docking hatch and caught sight of two pairs of standard-issue CORE boots.
“I’m right behind you,” Mace encouraged from below.
Nia pressed her elbows on the deck. Strong hands grabbed her upper arms, lifting her, and settled her on her feet.
A man and a woman regarded her with puzzled expressions, each wearing the beige and white of CORE science officers. Both tall and lean, a goatee graced the man’s chin while the woman’s straight black hair brushed her shoulders. Intelligence sparkled in her angular eyes, mixing with her confusion.
When Mace’s head became visible out of the docking tube, the woman let a whoop, her face exploding into a dazzling smile. As soon as he got to his feet, she threw her arms around him in a huge hug.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Her Common accent hailed from the Lunar colonies, unlike Nia’s Jovian one. The woman stepped back, holding Mace at arm’s length, a frown puckering her brow. “Why are you here? You wouldn’t be in a Condor unless something bad happened.”
“They’ve taken Orion,” Mace said, voice hard.
The woman gasped and paled. The man beside her stepped close to place a hand on her shoulder, but his eyes were on Nia.
“How?” The woman whispered, hand covering her mouth, and Nia realized they both wore PALMs. It seemed so strange to see them now. So unnecessary.
Mace shook his head. “We’ll get into that later. First,” he took Nia’s hand and pulled her closer, “I want you to meet Nia. Nia, this is my sister, Lexi.”
His sister.Once he said it, Nia could see the similarities in their features and coloring. “I’m pleased to meet you,” she said, giving her a nod and slight bow of greeting as anyone CORE would.
The pair in front of them froze. “You’re CORE,” Lexi murmured, then returned her gaze to her brother. “Why? What’s she doing here? What’s going on?” A Tellusian accent started to emerge in her words.
Reflexively, Nia touched her wrists where her bonds used to be, her instinct to hide them from sight before she remembered they’d been removed. Both scientists in front of her tracked the action.
Lexi’s expression turned horrified. “No. Mace. Say you didn’t.”
Mace stepped close behind Nia, his hand on the small of her back. “I’m not going to get into it right now.”
His sister’s mouth opened and closed like she couldn’t get words out, then she closed her eyes briefly before turning to the man beside her. “This is Justice, my colleague.”
Justice nodded to both of them, holding himself respectfully, but Nia became aware of how he stared at her, his piercing eyes making her uncomfortable.
“When’s your next scheduled maintenance?” Mace asked.
“Two days,” Justice answered, his tone hinting at anger. “And I don’t think I need to tell you what would happen if you’re found here.”
“It’s really bad timing,” Lexi said, taking a step closer to Justice. “The worst really.”
“Because of what you’re working on?” Mace asked.
She gave him a nod. “We’ll discuss more. You two look tired.” She jerked her head to the right. “This way. I’ll show you some quarters.”
They followed her up the ramp, over top a green space that contrasted with the beige and black glossy surfaces of the outpost’s construction. The lack of gray metal composite was startling, unnatural. They stepped into a circular lab, and Nia examined the assorted equipment wondering what they were doing out this far.
Lexi kept walking, navigating the circumference of the outpost, until they reached the habitat level. “There’s only one extra room,” she said, stopping at the third door.
She gave Mace another hug, but the frown never left her face. “It is good to see you, even under the circumstances.” She pulled away. “We’ll talk when you’re ready. But don’t take too long.”
Mace nodded. “I owe you one.”
“I know.” A small smile toyed on her lips, then her eyes flicked to Nia, and it disappeared.
Nia’s stomach churned. I’m not welcome here. Whatever safe haven Mace thought they would find, he was wrong. Her presence put both those scientists on edge so much, she wanted to leave.