Heart of the Nebula Page 6

  “Do you spend a lot of time here?” Sara asked as the door hissed shut behind them.

  “Not especially,” said Jarvis. She pulled down a chair from the wall and motioned for Sara to have a seat. “But it is nice to have a place where I can separate myself from my work. I’m sure it’s the same for your father.”

  Sara nodded; that much was certainly true. Growing up, her father’s work had always seemed to come between her parents. Her mother wasn’t as good at separating out the personal side of her life from the political, and her father’s approach was perhaps a bit too compartmentalized. It was one of the many things that had led to their divorce the year Sara had started at the academy. Thinking about it made her want to change the subject.

  “Have you filled the lieutenant and his copilot in on the details of the mission yet?”

  “I have,” said Captain Jarvis, pulling down the seat at the computer terminal. “The two of them have spent most of the last two days meeting with the rest of the diplomatic staff. Have they met with you yet?”

  “Not yet. That’s strange, wouldn’t you say?”

  Jarvis nodded. “A little bit, certainly. The lieutenant has spent quite a lot of time with Lars in particular. I know that the two of them are old friends, but I can’t help but wonder if they’re plotting something.”

  “I know,” said Sara with a sigh. “Lars Stewart has been a thorn in my father’s side for years now. If he’d known that the two of them have such a close personal connection, I doubt he’d have chosen the lieutenant for this military escort.”

  “You don’t think he foresaw this?”

  “My father knows a lot, but he doesn’t know everything. He’s just as prone to mistakes as the rest of us.”

  “That’s not been my experience,” said Captain Jarvis. “Your father is an extremely shrewd man. He’s often four or five steps ahead of everybody. I would be extremely surprised if this was a simple oversight on his part.”

  “Well, it certainly doesn’t make my mission any easier.”

  “That much is true. But he always had the highest expectations of you. I’m sure he feels that you’re up to the task.”

  For her part, Sara wasn’t so sure. Her father had a habit of testing her, and she didn’t always pass. In her second year at the academy, he had put her on the ballot for an oversight committee, knowing full well that she’d have to push back against claims of nepotism just to keep her political career from imploding before it had really launched. She hadn’t even wanted the position, but by the time he’d nominated her, it was already too late to object. She’d faced a great deal of scrutiny and criticism, which at the age of nineteen had been practically soul-crushing. In the end, she’d lost the position, which would have been a relief except for the impact it had on her political career. She’d always felt that her father had been disappointed with the way she’d handled herself, and every nomination since had been a struggle.

  “Do you think Lars has caught on to something?” she asked.

  “Even if he hasn’t, it would be well to be cautious,” said Jarvis. “Of course, I’m no politician, so I’m not the best one to give advice. Still, if he does suspect something, you can be sure that he and the lieutenant will be working together.”

  Exactly, Sara thought silently. That’s the problem. She thought back to the briefing with her father in the tram car and remembered the look on the lieutenant’s face. His copilot was fairly guileless and probably not much of a threat, but Lieutenant McCoy had a glint in his eyes that reminded her of her father. He was a man who played his own game, irrespective of the forces that tried to contain him. There was a certain charm in that, but a danger as well—or perhaps the danger and the charm were two sides of the same sphere.

  “If the lieutenant is hiding something, then maybe I should get him to open up,” she mused aloud. “Find out his game, see how deep his connection with Lars really runs.”

  Captain Jarvis raised an eyebrow. “How do you plan to go about that?”

  “We’re on a luxury yacht, aren’t we?” said Sara, pulling back a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve never met a boy who could turn me down for a date.”

  Jarvis frowned. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea, mingling your personal life with your political one?”

  No, but it certainly would make this voyage a lot more interesting.

  “It’s the best way to get some insight into the lieutenant without arousing too much suspicion,” she offered instead. “Besides, I’ve dated plenty of boys—it’s not like this means anything.”

  “Just as long as you’re careful about it,” said Jarvis, shaking her head. “Politics isn’t the only high-stakes game out there.”

  * * * * *

  James wiped the sweat from his face as the treadmill slowed for cool-down. The exercise facilities on board the Freedom Star weren’t as extensive as the ones on the Trident One, but they were plenty sufficient. He’d had a good workout; his shirt was soaked with sweat and his muscles were gratifyingly sore. His lungs burned for oxygen, but the air on the starship was clean and refreshing. As he slowed from a run to a walk, he breathed deeply to catch his breath.

  The door at the front of the room hissed open, and the patrician’s daughter walked in, catching his attention almost immediately. Her skinsuit fit her slender form almost perfectly, the sleek curves a sharp contrast to his olive-green cutoff shorts and ragged tan T-shirt. She smiled at him in greeting, making his stomach fall.

  “Hello there, Lieutenant. Mind if I join you?”

  “Just finishing up,” James stammered. She took that as an invitation to come in and walked over to the mats in front of him.

  “Do you work out often?” she asked. The door hissed shut, leaving them alone in the facilities together.

  “Yeah. It takes a lot of rigorous physical training to be a soldier in the Corps.”

  “I can tell. Where’s the ensign?”

  “Sterling?” said James, wiping his sweaty forehead rather self-consciously. “He’s in his quarters, I think. At least he was an hour ago.”

  “You don’t work out together then?”

  “Not generally, no. We’ve each got our own regimen.”

  She stood with her feet apart and pulled her hands behind her to stretch them out. Leaning forward, she raised them high in the air, with her long blond hair spilling forward almost to the floor. James caught himself staring and immediately looked away.

  The countdown timer finished, and the treadmill slowed to a stop. He stepped off and wiped his face with a towel while Sara continued her stretching routine.

  “Have a good workout,” he said as he walked toward the door.

  “Actually, Lieutenant, do you have a minute?” Sara asked.

  James stopped, his breath catching in his throat. “Yes?”

  “Do you have any self-defense moves you could teach me? It would help me feel safer when we’re at the conference.”

  He turned around to face her. She was on the floor now, stretching out her legs. Her flexibility was impressive—with both legs spread out at a considerable angle, she could still lean forward far enough to touch her elbows to the floor.

  “I suppose,” he mumbled. She smiled at him, and his legs practically turned to water.

  I have to be careful, he told himself. This is the patrician’s daughter, after all. That wasn’t the only thing that made him uneasy around her, though. Without a doubt, she was the most gorgeous sparring partner he’d ever had.

  She stood up and looked at him with bright, eager eyes. He tried to avoid them as he squared off to face her.

  “The first thing to remember is that the best way to defend yourself is to get away from trouble as quickly as you can. You’ll never lose a fight if you always run away.”

  “But you don’t run, Lieutenant. That’s why my father chose you for this mission.”

  His cheeks blushed bright red. “That’s different. If I run, people die. I’m supposed to protect them.�
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  “Just like my father asked you to protect me?”

  The look of admiration on her face was so disarming that for a couple of panic-filled moments, he was speechless. When was the last time a girl had looked at him that way? Something told him that she wanted more from him than a self-defense lesson.

  “Pretty much, yeah,” he somehow managed to say.

  “So what do I do if I can’t run?”

  “Well, you call for help. Most thugs are basically cowards, so if you make a lot of noise and cause a scene, that’s usually enough to spook them. Besides, I’m sure Sterling and I won’t be too far away.”

  “And what if you’re not there to save me?”

  Her words stung him more than she could have realized. He drew a sharp breath as he remembered his sister Stella, and how he’d failed to save her.

  “Let’s start with the basics. Suppose someone grabs you by the shirt, like this.”

  He took her hand and brought it to his chest, just below his shoulder.

  She obediently grabbed onto his shirt, the way someone would if they wanted to drag him against the wall. Her grip was surprisingly firm.

  “See, from here, you have a lot of options,” he explained. “First, you could strike his face with the heel of your palm, hitting either the nose or the chin.” He demonstrated on her as slowly and gently as he could, taking care not to hurt her.

  “What if that doesn’t work?”

  “If you hit at the right angle, you could easily break his nose. But chances are, you’re probably not going to be as strong as the person attacking you. Striking is just a way to distract them so that you can break their grip, like this.”

  He reached for her hand with his opposite one and took her by the wrist, pressing his thumb against the back of her hand.

  Controlling her by the wrist, he rolled her hand and gently hyper-extended her hand, making her release her grip. As her arm locked, he turned and pushed into her elbow with his opposite arm, making her stagger toward the wall.

  “Ouch!”

  “Are you all right?” he asked, suddenly letting go.

  “No, I’m fine—that was just really effective. Can you show me again?”

  He repeated the move, taking great care not to hurt her. She cooperated with him quite well, staying relaxed and not pushing back.

  “Can you do it again, this time a little faster?”

  They went over the move again. This time, she collapsed to her knees as he pressed against her elbow, and the only way to keep from hurting her was to follow her down to the floor. In less than a second, he had her in an arm lock with her face planted against the mat.

  “Okay, okay!” she said, laughing. He carefully released her and helped her to her feet.

  “All right,” he said. “Your turn.”

  Her clothes were too tight to give him much to grip, so he placed his hand on her chest, well above her full, round breasts. Keeping her at arm’s length, he waited for her to try out the move.

  “Let’s see,” she said, hesitating as she thought it out. “First, I want to strike you, like this.”

  She swung up at him with the heel of her palm, moving much faster than he had.

  The strike stopped within less than an inch of his face, making him flinch. He staggered back just as she grabbed his hand, and the next thing he knew, his face was pressed up against the wall with his arm in a solid arm lock.

  “Like this?” she asked.

  “Ow!” he said. “That’s good—really good.”

  She released him and stepped back, curling a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m a fast learner.”

  “I’ll say. You got it in almost the first move.”

  “Can I try it again?”

  They went over the move again, thankfully a little slower. This time, James made it a little harder for her, so that she needed coaching. It took her a few tries to get the arm lock, but she managed to break his grip every time.

  “You’re a good teacher,” she said, after they’d practiced it almost a dozen times.

  “Well,” he said, blushing again. “Most people lock up or get really tense when you try to teach them a technique, or treat it like some sort of contest to see who’s stronger. That’s bad, though, because the more you tense up, the more likely you are to injure yourself.”

  “Do I seem tense?”

  “Not at all. If anything, you’re one of the most fluid people I’ve ever seen.”

  She stepped up close to him, making his heart skip a beat. “Fluid,” she said as if tasting the word. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Of c-course,” he stammered, suddenly aware of their close proximity to each other. She put a hand on his chest and smiled.

  “I’m glad my father chose you for this mission.”

  Before he could respond, she stepped back and turned around, running her fingers through her hair. It was just as well, since words entirely failed him in that moment. His heart pounded like a runaway chain reaction in a power reactor, and his legs all but turned to jelly.

  “What if someone comes behind me?” she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder. From the look in her eye, it was clear that she wanted him to grab her.

  He hesitated, unsure what to do. Something told him that he was heading on a dangerous trajectory.

  To hell with it, he told himself.

  He grabbed her by the waist in a solid bear hug, trapping her arms. “If someone’s going to come at you from behind,” he said, “they’re probably going to do it like this.”

  “Oomph! So what do I do?”

  “First, drop your center of mass as low as you can. That’ll keep them from dragging you off, like—”

  She dropped suddenly, nearly making him fall to the floor. He caught himself just in time and struggled to haul her back.

  “Good! Now turn your side into me and try to push me away with your elbows—that’ll free your hands.”

  She did as he said, ramming an elbow against his grip until it broke. Then, grabbing him by the arm, she pulled him forward and slipped beneath him, sending him headfirst into the mat. He caught himself and rolled just in time, but before he could get up, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him, pinning down his shoulders.

  “Like that?” she asked, grinning.

  Realization struck him like a blow between the eyes. “You—you’ve trained in this before.”

  “A little,” she admitted, her grin widening. “But you have to admit, it was a fun lesson.”

  Apparently, it was a little too fun for her to release him. He struggled to get up, but she held him down so well that he couldn’t get any leverage. Resorting to a trick he had learned against his sister, he reached up and tickled her in the armpit. Instantly, she collapsed on top of him in laughter. He rolled her off to the side and stood up.

  Did I just tickle the patrician’s daughter? he wondered. Thank the stars no one else had seen him do it.

  “Oh, wow,” she said as she stood up. “That was perhaps a bit too much fun.”

  “Just how proficient are you?” James asked.

  Her eyes lit up. “How proficient do you think I am?”

  Once again, blood rushed to his cheeks. He shrugged and made an equivocating motion with his hands.

  “I don’t know. Black belt, maybe?”

  “Good answer. I have a first degree black belt in Rigelan jujitsu.”

  “And you wanted me to show you some self-defense moves?”

  “Well,” she said, pulling a strand of golden-blond hair out of her face, “I wanted to see what you’d do, and you didn’t disappoint. You really are a good teacher.”

  Why is she looking at me like that? James wondered. Is she coming on to me? He’d never been very good with women. The fact that he spent so much time on duty certainly didn’t help. But there was something different in the way Sara was looking at him—something that definitely looked like interest. It made his legs go numb and his heart hammer something awful.

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nbsp; “We’ve got a few days before we get to Gaia Nova,” she said, glancing at him tentatively. “We should, ah, get to know each other.”

  Stars of Earth—she is coming on to me.

  “Uh, yeah,” he said, his mind suddenly blanking. Inwardly, he cursed himself for being such an idiot.

  “You must be pretty busy, though. I’m sure a lieutenant like you has a lot of duties.”

  “Not until we get to Gaia Nova,” he blurted. “Do you want—do you want to have dinner sometime?”

  She smiled. “Well, we are on a luxury yacht after all. When were you thinking?”

  “Uh, tomorrow night maybe? How does 1800 sound?”

  “Tomorrow would be fine. There’s a private dining room on the lower deck. I’ll talk with the captain about reserving it.”

  James could hardly believe what was happening. He nodded dumbly, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would say something stupid and make her change her mind.

  “All right, then. See you tomorrow at 1800, Lieutenant.”

  He stood there for a couple of moments until he realized that she wasn’t leaving—he was. He’d finished his workout, after all, and she’d barely begun hers. With considerable awkwardness, he nodded and left the gym, nearly tripping over his feet on his way out.

  * * * * *

  Kyla crept up to the open doorway and peered around the corner. She could hardly stand up straight, she had to pee so bad. At least there was a bathroom just outside the door to the cargo hold. Trouble was, it sat at the end of a long, well-lit corridor.

  After looking both ways, she dashed out into the open space. Her bare, dirty feet pattered against the cold tile floor, making her heart race with terror. With her hands jammed between her legs to keep herself from bursting, she reached the bathroom and slapped her palm against the access panel on the wall. The door slid open with a jarring hiss, but she slipped inside and shut it again before anyone saw her.