4

Chapter 4

He’d approached the compound in the same trajectory he had earlier. The light was lower now, having been several hours later, but the memory of that time when he’d had to force himself to patiently wait for the right opportunity to get up into that tower brought a cold sweat.

And then, as shots rang out all around her, he had to force the quiet so he could take out each and every threat to her. Knowing she was down there. Knowing that a movement to the left or right could have gotten her head blown off.

It was over. She was fine, and there was no reason to let his boyhood love for Piper Roundtree get in the way of getting his job done. And if it put him in a position to keep her a little safer, even for a short while, then that was all right, too.

Piper stood in a doorway, leaning casually there as she watched Andrei approach. “I imagine you’d like to clean up.” She handed him a drying cloth and some soap. “Through here.” Pointing, she pushed herself upright and led him back through the cool, dim house.

He nodded his thanks, needing the time to get himself together. He’d been surprised by the place, he had to admit. The bathing area he used was spacious, the water warm and copious. A lot of houses, including the one he’d grown up in, didn’t have indoor plumbing at all. He hoped he’d helped, even a small amount, to give them a better quality of life, and here he was faced with evidence that he had.

It had been a stupid thing, sending the packets of credits. He should have disappeared totally, though it wasn’t mandatory to do that and be a member of Phantom Corps. He knew they needed the credits. They would have simply because it was Asphodel and want was a common way of life there.

He’d had them, and he’d given them freely. Still would. They had built something here, and he’d support that when he could. And yes, he supposed he could admit to himself it kept a link with her. Even though he shouldn’t. He couldn’t let go all the way.

Piper tried to remain casual about his being there. She shouldn’t be upset. After all, he’d been her friend. Had been a friend to her family. He couldn’t have left the way he had without some measure of pressure. Asphodel had been a dead end for him anyway. She understood that. Her head got the logic of it quite well. Her heart wasn’t as logical.

Kenner tossed himself into a chair at the table, across from where she sat. “Don’t pretend you’re not off balance.”

She shoved a mug of kava at him, regretting how nice she’d been to make it for him to start with.

“Of course I’m off balance. It’s not every day a horde of Imperialist troops breaks into my compound and tries to kill me and my people.”

He looked at her over the rim of the mug. “This is how you’re going to play it? With me?” He shook his head. “I was there. I remember what it was like when he left.”

They’d thought he had been taken to a work camp. Or worse. He’d been arrested, both he and Kenner had been, for a bloody fight at the tavern in the portal city. The man who’d tried to rob them and the man’s two friends had ended up in a medi-clinic. Kenner had been sent home because Taryn had signed off for him. But Andrei had no one who’d claim him.

She’d railed then. Had cried and screamed at the unfairness of Andrei being there when Taryn had been willing to sign off for Andrei, too. But they hadn’t let him, and Andrei’s mother had been murdered only two seasons before, so there was no one to help him.

They hadn’t let anyone in to see him, which had made matters even worse.

Then he’d been gone, and no one would say where. The guilt of that, of him being alone when he needed her had lay in her heart every day since.

“Aren’t you glad to know he’s alive?” Kenner asked softly.

“I knew it when we got the credits.” Never in the years since he’d disappeared did they hear anything. But a year after he’d gone, the first packet arrived. A little bit. Signed with an A at the bottom.

Over the years there’d been more courier packets. The amount of credits had grown. Always signed with an A at the bottom. Each packet had arrived, and each time she’d hoped there would be more than that scrawled A. And each time she’d been disappointed by that lack.

“That put food on the table in the hard times. Kept us warm in the cold months.” Kenner’s mouth flattened briefly.

“I’m not denying that.” In a way, she was sure it was why he still affected her the way he had. That was the only explanation for the way he still made her weak in the knees.

He came out of the bathing room, his hair bound at the base of his neck, exposing the beauty of his face. The facial hair had been a surprise. The scruff of it suited him. The pale sand colored clothing he wore was good for extended periods in the Wastelands or out in the open away from encampments, water and shade. It also suited his skin tone.

He was tall. That much she’d remembered. Only her memories had rendered him smaller. This man, this hard muscle and sinew was a machine. He moved with far more grace than he’d had as a boy. Most definitely with more control. He prowled through their living room, setting out little pieces of equipment. Dampeners to block eavesdropping. But when he reached the shelves where Taryn’s stone carvings sat, he paused, the ghost of a smile on his face. He simply looked at them, picking each one up, examining it closely before putting it back.

All she could do was sit there and stare at him.

If he’d asked for her forgiveness on his knees, it wouldn’t have touched her more than that smile.

The three of them watched him as he turned and noticed them with a small start.

“Sit down,” Piper said, deciding to be less vexed with him. “Kava is fresh and warm.”

He did, with that nod of his head for a thank-you.

This Andrei made her nervous on some level. Not frightened, but wary. This quiet man wasn’t much like the fiery, sometimes stoic person he’d been as a boy and young man. Wherever he’d been, whatever he’d done, this Andrei was a man who didn’t make rash mistakes.

What had happened to him?

“I need your help.” He sipped the dark, sweet liquid and perked up a little in response. He hadn’t realized how dry he’d been until he nearly drained the mug in three swallows. But Piper must have known; she pushed a bowl of sliced fruit his way.

“How? What?” Kenner spoke, Andrei knew, on everyone’s behalf.

“I’m going to tell you something most people don’t know. It’s a dangerous something. You need to understand that before I go any further. Helping me will expose you to danger. I’ll do my best to protect you all.” He paused when his fingertips brushed Piper’s when she pushed the refilled mug back toward him.

“And though I know it’s not necessary to even ask, I will anyway. I’m asking for your word that what I say won’t be repeated.”

Piper swallowed hard. While they processed what he’d said, Andrei took the opportunity to study her while pretending not to. He’d never forgotten the color of her skin, milky kava. Or her eyes. Deepest of dark brown with a hint of amber at the iris. They’d been the first thing he’d noticed about her. So innocent-looking, but she’d been the best pickpocket of their group. Fearless, especially in the defense of her family.

He’d been family at one time, which is why he was there about to tell these three a Federation secret. He didn’t want to involve them, but things were getting worse by the moment. He had no choice; they were his best hope.

It was Piper who spoke then. “You know you only have to ask. Tell us what this is about, and we can plan to make it right.”

Warmth banked in his belly.

“Make sure no one can get in. The dampeners will thwart eavesdropping.”

“No one will enter.”

“The Imperium is close to developing a device designed to collapse portals. We have evidence to suggest at least one important element of this device comes from Asphodel, or through Asphodel.”

They gaped at him, and he shrugged.

“How do you know this?” Taryn managed to ask.

“They’ve managed a few tests. We believe the incident in the Imperialist ’Verse, Krater, was a fatal error. The ’Verse has been closed off to all outside traffic.” Even if the Imperialists had sent traditional spacecraft it would take months to reach them from the closest outpost.

“That’s . . . that’s monstrous even for them.” Piper’s voice caught, and he wished he hadn’t had to bring this to her.

He nodded. He couldn’t tell them about the biological agents, the bombings and experimentation camps they’d recently gotten word about.

“What do you need from us, Andrei?” Kenner leaned forward, intent.

“I need an in.”

“I think we might have just fucked that one up for you, mate.” Taryn snorted a laugh.

“No. There will be more come to check back after the ones gone missing. They’ll know you had a part in it, and when they come to you, you’ll tell them you want a rise in your credits or they’ll end up like the last. Can you do that?” He looked between them. “They are craven. Greedy. They would believe you killed their men for money. The situation will be level for them because they’ll believe you as criminal as they.”

Piper sighed, kicking her boots off. His fingers spasmed a moment with the urge to help.

“All right then. I’ll need to speak with Eiriq. You can trust him, Andrei.” Piper locked her gaze with his. “I’ll do my best to only tell him the barest of details.”

“The less he knows, the less danger he’ll be in.” From the Imperialists and from Andrei. If he proved other than trustworthy, Andrei would make sure the situation was contained.

“We’ll bring you on as one of our people. There are some here who’ll recognize you. Will that be a problem?” Kenner asked.

“No. It’ll be a good thing, actually. My less than wholesome past will lend me credibility with the right people. I came because I heard in town that the Imperialists were on their way out here to attack the compound, so I followed and helped take them down.”

“Helped? Andrei, you pretty much single-handedly took out a good portion of those Imperialists today.” Taryn stood, moving to the cabinets at the other end of the room.

“No one but you saw it, Taryn.” Andrei shrugged.

“You’ll stay here. Do you remember how to move cargo?” Piper’s question was more of a challenge.

She had no idea just how much illicit movement of goods and information he took part in on a regular basis. “I can manage it, yes.”

“Where were you?” Kenner asked it, but Andrei knew it was for Piper.

“Gone. It’s best you don’t know all the details.”

Piper snorted but held her tongue.

“Piper, go talk to Eiriq. I’ll get a meal started. Kenner, check on the people at the clinic. Make sure they’re well and that they don’t need anything. Andrei, you can help me.” Taryn moved to the closet at the end of the kitchen and began to pull out food items, placing them on the nearby counter.

Piper looked at her brother for a long time without speaking. She finally sighed and stood. “Andrei can have the spare room next to mine. There’s bedding in the linen closet. I’ll be back shortly.”

Once they were alone, Taryn looked to him. “You’re like one of my siblings. You’ve been gone a long time, but you paid your dues, and I trust you to sleep under the same roof as my family. Is there any reason this should be a problem? Other than the ones you’ve been up front about?”

“I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“I know. I’d put myself in the path of a las-blast for any of you.” This was true.

“That’s enough. For now.”

Taryn’s trust meant a lot. More than Andrei could even begin to express. Instead, he cleaned the root vegetables, dicing and dropping them into the salted water on the cooktop.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” Taryn said as he walked past.

“Me, too,” Andrei muttered.

“Don’t know how you fooled those people in the Federation into giving you a job.” Taryn’s mouth split into a grin as he handed an ale Andrei’s way. “But I wanted to thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for.” Andrei shrugged.

“Incorrect.” He clinked the glass against Andrei’s. “You saved us today. You didn’t help fight the Imperial soldiers off. You did it pretty much on your own.”

“You were in trouble. I helped.” Uncomfortable with praise, Andrei stirred the vegetables, testing for doneness.

“Years and years of credits. Andrei, there were times that without your help I don’t know if we could have survived the storm season. And when the next packet arrived, at least we knew you were alive somewhere.”

Andrei didn’t know what to say. Emotion thickened his tongue.

“You’ve always protected my family. That’s something deserving of thanks.” Taryn turned back to the table, finishing laying out the plates.

After the meal, after they’d cleaned up and the sweetness of that old connection had fallen over her, Piper stood beneath the spigot, hoping the water would wash away not only the dirt, sweat and blood, but the feelings for Andrei she’d thought were long dead.

Her muscles ached from having to be so heavy on the stick when she flew back so fast through the canyons. They hurt from the concussive echoes of the las-rifle. Her eyes hurt from the bright and from trying not to cry.

He’d come out of that cloud of dust like an angel from a story she’d heard as a child. And like a children’s story, she’d nearly fallen into a relieved heap at the sight.

His hair had been so long. It had jarred her, still did, mainly because she wanted to touch it. It would be stupid to want to touch it.

It had been short before. Short and soft. Soft against her hands as she massaged his scalp and neck, trying to bring him calm. She smiled, not entirely willingly, at the memory of how she’d been the only girl allowed to touch him the way she had. Especially after he’d returned from a stint in lockup to find his mother had been murdered. To find the polis had done very little to find out who’d killed her or even why.

His anger at the world had been worse after that. Worse after the authorities came to take his younger brother away.

Despite the fights with others, despite his anger, Andrei had been gentle with her. Always. Everyone else, he’d had a point to prove to. A point he probably wasn’t aware of.

With Piper, the wild-eyed, hard boy fell away. Only with her had he been soft. He’d been the first boy she’d ever given herself to. And, she thought with some regret, the only one she’d felt like she mattered to.

Heaving a sigh, she turned the water off and reached for a towel. She’d trusted him, and he’d left.

Shimmying into underpants and a worn but comfortable sleep shirt, she headed back into her room, passing his door as she did. Right there, within her reach. He was just beyond, and she ached to go to him and have him give her enough reasons to make his absence okay.

In her bed she shivered a moment, caught between warmth that he was back and horror at what had happened that day. It wasn’t that she was a stranger to violence. She’d been in more skirmishes than she could count since they’d begun running cargo.

Violence had been common enough in her life. Asphodel was hardscrabble. Hostile. People got old early. Using your fists kept a certain kind of order, showed people you weren’t an easy mark.

Piper had a big brother with even bigger fists. Strangers wouldn’t know how sweet he was in reality. They only saw his size and the easy way he had with weapons and, when necessary, his bare hands. He’d kept them safe.

Kenner and Andrei had run in a pack of kids from their sector. Bright, quick boys whose talents were wasted by the way things were for them. At first it was fun and silly, but the older they’d all gotten, the more some of them began to resent the way their future was so narrow. That resentment had sent more than one of them to lockup.

Kenner had learned his lesson after Andrei had disappeared, thank the gods. With a sigh, she flopped onto her side, trying to get comfortable. Andrei had been part of her life, part of every single day, and then he hadn’t. Kenner had been thoroughly dissuaded from that potential violent life by that absence. Until that afternoon, anyway.

But what happened that afternoon was not common. Not anything she wanted in her life. Thieving was one thing; killing was another thing entirely. Her sum total of experience with authority was hiding what she did from them. But these men, these soldiers sent from the Imperium were out to kill everyone in her compound. People she and her brothers felt responsible for.

Andrei had protected them. All of them. He didn’t seem comfortable with the praise Taryn and Kenner had sent his way, but they all knew what he’d done. What would have happened had he not come along when he did?

All about Andrei, connected to him on some level. His return had only underlined just how empty her life was outside work. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been excited by a man’s presence.

And agitated. Enraged. Begrudgingly charmed by the nearly wild boy transformed into a quiet, watchful man who carried death in his hands like it was common. He was dangerous. It came off him in waves.

Gods help her, she liked it. She should run the other way, but she knew she wouldn’t.

Andrei sat at a table near the door, one leg on the surface, the chair tipped, an ale at his left hand. A book in his right. For all outward appearance, a man with not a care in the world. Some might take him for an easy mark here in this bar full of criminals. But most would wonder just what he had to make him so confident in his stance. So utterly unconcerned with danger.

The smart ones would realize that for the threat it was and give him a wide berth. The rest were dealt with easily enough that he didn’t need to give them much thought.

What he was thinking about, however, was just how woefully inadequate the security and basic infrastructure at the compound the Roundtrees lived in was. He made a mental note to look around that next sunrise. The guard towers weren’t even manned when he’d come through the gates. They needed more than one cistern, that was for sure. He hadn’t failed to miss Taryn’s blush of guilt when he’d told Andrei they only had the one.

They sure as seven hells needed to be training two or three of their residents to be medtechs. Being so far from a clinic and medical help, it was a necessity to have personnel capable of triage in case of an emergency. Storms didn’t care if a body broke a leg or received a bad burn. Moreover, the compound had several women of childbearing age and several children. Basic surgical skills would be a welcome thing to have.

Andrei had been adding to his mental list when he caught movement near the door. Andrei lit a smoke as he waited for Benni to see him there.

The young man’s gaze casually took in the space as he swaggered in. He caught sight of Andrei far quicker than he had the last time they had worked together. Andrei smiled, satisfied, as he leaned forward and grabbed his ale.

Benni tossed his bulk into a rickety chair across from him within a few minutes, a fresh ale in his hand.

“Seems there’s some hiring going on out in the Wastelands.”

Interest sharpened his wits. The Wastelands were a day’s long drive wide. A vast expanse of the harshest environs Asphodel served. Dust storms skittered all over the basin with winds so high they’d strip flesh from bone in seconds. The heat was extraordinary during half the year and frigid the other half, with blizzards and their perilous mix of razor-sharp dust mixed with snow.

There was nothing out there but death, some mining communities that had been abandoned when Andrei had been very young and a few encampments of people generally regarded as insane.

“That so? What for then, and is the pay any good?”

“Queerest thing is no one’s of any mind to share details on the whats and whyfors of the situation. I’m of a mind to believe it has to be mining of some sort. All’s out there anyhow.”

That would be Andrei’s opinion as well.

“Who’s running this show?”

“Don’t know those details either. Did see some fellas who didn’t look so native to these parts. One stayed in the back of the conveyance all fancy-like. Had a big scar on his face from here,” Benni pointed to the middle of his forehead, “to here.” He ended up on the opposite cheek.

Andrei knew that scar.

“I was thinking ’bout signing on. A man can always use some extra credits in his account.”

Benni had been one of his first local informants. A native of Borran, Benni had an illustrious future as a prisoner all lined up when he’d shadowed Andrei for days and had broken into his room to steal his belongings.

Unfortunately for Benni, Andrei had been a better thief and had been lying in wait for him. But Andrei had seen in the boy a great deal of himself. He’d given Benni a chance to work off his debt. He’d been with Andrei ever since. The year before, his wife had joined them, becoming another one of what Benni called Andrei’s people.

Everyone deserved a few extra chances in life. Especially people like Benni and Aya, who’d never been given much by way of example. Ellis had given that to Andrei, and in turn, Andrei tried to return that favor with others when he could.

“I don’t know. Body’s got a right to know what he’s to be hired on for. All the way out there and all.” This was dangerous work. The kind it was up to Andrei to do. He wouldn’t risk Benni for a job like this.

“What I figured you’d say.” Benni pushed a small data chip across the table, and Andrei palmed it.

“I’ll be off then. I’ve got a lovely lady awaiting my attentions.” Benni looked back over his shoulder at a young woman standing near the entrance, Aya, Benni’s partner in life and in the game.

“Have a care, then.” He meant it. There had been enough death to last Andrei a lifetime.

Some time later, after another ale, he brought himself back to the compound, not being stopped, or even noticed by a single person. He needed to speak with Kenner about posting guards or at the very least training the ones they had to keep a better watch.

He paused, passing by her door, but forced his feet to keep moving. He needed to look at that data and if necessary, report back his findings.