Girl From Above #4: Trust Read online

  “Move, Shepperd!” she snapped.

  “I’m moving, fuck! If I knew you’d be such a hard-ass, I’d have left Janus without you.”

  “Run away? Like you always do?”

  I reached for the beam, tasted bile at the back of my throat, and steadied my swirling vision. Somehow my fingers clamped onto the steel.

  “Yeah, like always,” I snarled.

  “A coward dies here, is that who you are, Caleb Shepperd? A coward, like your father called you? Like you were when Haley died?”

  Oh man, she had to go there.

  “Did I say you were amazing? I lied.” One hand in front of the other. Anger fizzled and snapped, somehow lending me the strength to keep going. I dangled and swayed, clinging on with burning fingers. “You’re an amazing pain in my ass.”

  “Your brother once told me how you’re so much like your father that he is afraid of you.”

  That’s right, drag up my past to piss me off. Love you too, One.

  “Do you know how many times I thought about tossing you out the airlock?” I growled back.

  “Fran died so you could live. Have you accepted that yet?”

  Fuck. Just a few feet to go. I swung, shifted my hand along, and lost my grip. It was there, I had it, but my stupid numb fingers wouldn’t work and then, in a snap, I let go.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: One

  Caleb was gone.

  Smoke swirled in the air he’d fallen through. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him. No. No!

  Falling back and locking my hands on either side of me to hold my body steady, I shut my eyes and surged into the datacloud, seeking the synthetic minds. They blinked on and off, their numbers few. I swept from one to another to another, peering through their eyes into wreckage and debris. Different angles, looking down into the dirt, up at the sky, out of the building, through the glass—light, dark, pain, empty. I bounced between them until finally, I saw him—falling.

 

  They surged forward, all those that could, and through their eyes I watched Caleb fall. Save him. Save him. Please … Stars are wishes and wishes are dreams. Save him. Don’t let him die. No more killing. No more deaths. Save him.

  I reached, reached so high, so far. Reached for him with all I had left.

  Don’t

  Let

  Him

  Go

  Chapter Twenty-Three Caleb

  45 HOURS LATER.

  * * *

  Old Earth.

  I hadn’t been back in years. Not much to come back for. An empty home and a deadbeat father who I sincerely hoped had drunk himself into an early grave and I just hadn’t gotten the memo. But there were some things on Old Earth worth returning for, like the view out of the obs window.

  As I banked Fortuitous in low over the clifftops, a full moon poured milk-light over the black ocean. Shit, there’s a whole nine systems out there, but nothing beat Old Earth when it came to breathtaking views.

  I eased the warship around to frame the view in the obs window and hovered her in low above the cliff. A lot had changed since I’d last seen that view.

  I tapped the internal comms. “Hey, One, you gotta see this.”

  The raw wound in my side gave a painful twinge, reminding me to go slow. A few med-pacs, blood top-ups, and a fuckload of drugs had gone a long way to fixing the hole in my side, but it would take at least a cycle for it to heal good as new. One hadn’t told me exactly how we’d gotten out of the Chitec rubble. I just remembered falling and then waking up in the ship’s med-bay. Nothing in between.

  Setting the frisky warbird down on her struts was easier when I had a football-field-sized landing pad; I was still learning Fortuitous’s little quirks, and she had many, but we’d bonded some after making a dash through the fleet-infested airspace outside Janus. They’d been getting their asses handed to them by the Fenrir Nine’s armada at the time. I’d done my part and had no intention of plowing into the Nine’s fight, especially when they’d hung Fran and me out to dry.

  A glance at the empty flight chair next to me sent a horrible pang of grief through me, souring my mood. I told myself the same thing I’d been saying over and over every time I thought about Fran: she’d made her choice. She went out the way she’d wanted, saving a bunch of folks who would never know her name.

  A knot tightened around my throat. I swallowed around it and blinked a few times, clearing the blur.

  Less than forty-eight hours later, and here One and me were.

  One appeared beside me as the raptor’s engines wound down. She leaned forward over the flight controls. Moonlight cast her face in a pale but perfect glow. With slightly parted lips, her wide eyes drank in the sight, and I knew I’d done the right thing bringing her here.

  She turned her head, giving me one of her rare, bright and honest smiles, then she dashed from the bridge with quick lightness to her steps.

  I chuckled and ran over the raptor’s power-down checks while keeping my eye on the datafeed screens. Every feed ran with the simultaneous collapse of Chitec and the appearance of the vast armada that had kicked fleet’s ass seven ways to Sunday, scattering the old regime and bringing in the new. Representatives of the Fenrir Nine stood up and declared free trade, free gate travel between the systems, and free distribution of wealth and food. In less than a couple of days, they’d freed the entire nine systems, exactly like they’d said they would. I wondered how heroic they’d look if Janus and all of its inhabitants had been destroyed the way they’d originally planned.

  Thinking of heroes got me wondering about someone who used to be mine. I scooped up the comms and tucked it in my ear. “Brendan Shepperd …”

  Waiting for the link to connect, I sat back in my flight chair, listened to Fortuitous sighing around me, and watched the moon’s glow ripple over the sea. I hadn’t yet thought about what to do next and figured I didn’t need to. Not yet. I’d done enough, hadn’t I?.

  “Caleb–Joe?”

  The gasp made me grin. “Bren.”

  “You bastard! You goddamn rotting son of a bastard.”

  “Nice to hear your voice, Bren.”

  “I thought you were dead!”

  I winced and tweaked the volume on the comms.

  “How in the nine systems—” He laughed, cutting off his own question. “I don’t care. Dammit, Brother. You scared me.”

  “Yeah, well, Shepperds are hard to kill.”

  “Shit,” he breathed. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “You okay there?”

  “Yeah, I just … I just had to sit down. I can’t … I can’t believe you.”

  “Well, believe it, but it wasn’t easy. If it wasn’t for your call, Bren, I’d have died there and so would most of those people on Janus.”

  “You know I’ve got your back, Brother. Always have.”

  “Yeah …” I nodded, oddly content. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Is One with you? Did she—”

  “One’s here. But uh …” That fucking hitch again. I got your back, Cale. “Fran didn’t make it.” My voice wobbled. It’d be a while before it stopped doing that, and another while before the empty ache went away. “She did right, in the end. She’s a hero, man.”

  “I guess she just had to find the right crew to find her place, huh?”

  Another nod, because this time the words weren’t coming. My vision was swimming again.

  “Listen, uh …” I coughed, clearing the surge of feelings bubbling up. “Are you okay if I go off the clock for a cycle or two? I mean, whatever you’re doing with the Nine, you’re safe, right?”

  “Yeah, I’m good Caleb-Joe. There’s a lot of work to do. Just saying the nine is free doesn’t make it so, but we’ll get there. Go dark. It might be for the best. One’s staying with you, right?”

  “Yeah, for the moment.” I wiped at my eyes. “Until she figures out she can go anywhere and bag herself someone with a lot more smarts than me.
”

  “She’ll keep you safe.”

  “I am old enough to look after myself, yah know.” I figured it might be best not to mention how I’d lost count of the times One had saved my ass.

  “Uh-huh. The Nine don’t need to know about this or else they’ll want me to keep an eye on you. Just, disappear. Take some time off. Get back in touch when you’re ready.”

  “Aye, aye, Brother.”

  “Hey, Caleb-Joe?” Here it comes. “I love you, Brother. I mean it. One told me to tell you, so there’s that. And I just—”

  “Okay, whatever. I hear yah.” I cut the comms with a laugh and set the unit back in its cradle. Bren and his feelings. I loved the bastard right back.

  I took a detour via my cabin, scooped up Bren’s long coat, and headed down the personnel ramp into the night. The air smelled salty, but sweet where a playful breeze stirred up the long, dewy grasses. I grounded my boots on the earth and breathed deeply, ignoring the twinges of pain from my bruised ribs.

  One was standing at the cliff’s edge, her silhouette about as fine a view as the one she was admiring. She wore one of Fran’s flimsy tank tops and oversized flight pants, making her look scruffy and ragged. Her silvery hair stuck out in haphazard angles, moonlight shimmering pale fingers through those locks. I approached from behind, stomping through the grass so as to not startle her and find a fist in my face, and lifted Bren’s coat over her small shoulders.

  “I’m not cold.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Can’t you let me be all manly for once?”

  She raised a brow and canted her head to pass her comical gaze over me, then chuckled. She chuckled. The laugh was light and tinkling—a startling melody, really—and it was all I could do not to stare. Fuck, she disarmed me in every way.

  I plunged my hands into my pockets. “Give the coat back then. I’m cold.”

  “No.” She shrugged it on, poking her smooth hands through the arms, the coat making her look even smaller. “It smells like your brother.” She pulled the collar up and breathed in. “I like it.”

  Typical.

  We stood for a while, looking out at the jagged rocks and angry surf. There might be a storm raging somewhere out at sea, but the only sign of it here was the relentless crash of breakers hammering the rocks.

  Watching her side-on, I wondered what was going through that marvelous head of hers. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a definite curve to her lips. Moisture glistened on her face and dampened her lashes.

  “I …” I kicked at a tuft of grass. “I said some things back at Chitec towers, right before I passed out and you somehow saved me. Are you ever going to tell me how, by the way?”

  Her lips twitched.

  No answer.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. She was incredible. Why fuck it up with details? I watched the waves swirl and mix around a jutting outcrop.

  “Before I let go of that beam, I said some interesting things.” I’d told her she was amazing, that I’d go to hell and back for her.

  “It was from the effects of blood loss. I understand.”

  Now it was my turn to smile a knowing, private smile. She saw it, and a faint line creased her brow. Her hair feathered in front of her eyes.

  She’d saved me in every possible way, and I had no idea how to tell her all the things I wanted to without sounding like a fucking idiot.

  “C’mon.” I thumbed a gesture toward a part of the cliff that sloped down. “It gets better.”

  We climbed down the twisting path to the rocky beach. One easily maneuvered her way over the rocks, each foot perfectly placed, while I wobbled and staggered behind her, trying not to break an ankle.

  When the beach opened up into a vast rock-strewn crescent, the boulders thinned to pebbles, and I dropped onto one of many flat stones, the way I had all those years ago. I lifted my face to the damp night air and tasted salt on my lips.

  One settled beside me, a leg drawn up so she could rest her chin on it. She smiled at the sea and I couldn’t help but smile at her.

  “Is it rain?” she asked, lifting a hand. “It’s soft, and cool, and salty. I like it.”

  “It’s spray, off the surf.” I nodded ahead, to where the rollers crashed against the vast monolith rocks way out in the bay. Moonlight settled like glitter on her face, and I reckoned she had to be the most beautiful thing in the nine systems. Not manufactured beauty, there was plenty of that in the nine; she had raw, honest allure.

  “It’s wonderful. I—It feels …” She closed her eyes and lifted her face, but she must have forgotten whatever it was she was going to say, because she stayed that way, her head tilted toward the stars.

  “I used to come here as a kid,” I said, but I cut off my own explanation, waiting for the urge to clam up to come over me. It didn’t. “Our old house is a few miles away. I’d climb out my window at night and walk all the way here, watch the sea, and the stars, and dream that I’d one day be up there, in the black.”

  She opened her eyes but kept her gaze lifted. “Dreams.”

  “That was the only one I had. My only wish … until you.”

  “Caleb—”

  I caught the gentle scolding in her tone. She was about to tell me that my wish was worthless, that whatever this was, whatever I felt, it couldn’t last. Rejection, I was used to it.

  “I’m not good,” she said, bowing her head.

  I picked up a pebble, rolled its smooth surface in my hand, and tossed it at the rock pools. The pebble skittered and jounced, then disappeared.

  “Good is overrated.”

  “I’m not a good person,” she said again, emphasizing her point.

  “Who is?” I lay back on my immensely uncomfortable rock and propped my head up on my hand. “So what, you’re going to tell me you’re a stone-cold killer, that you’re dangerous? That your head is fucked up, you don’t know what’s right or wrong, or what you want? Well shit, we’re all fucked up. I thought you’d already figured that out.”

  She breathed in, drawing the damp, salty air across her lips, and then braced a hand behind her, propping herself up to face the sea. Moonlight caressed the scarred half of her face, softening those hard lines.

  I wasn’t entirely sure what she was telling me. I might never figure her out, but I was willing to try, if she’d let me.

  “One, you know you can go anywhere now, do anything. There’s no reason for you to stay with me. You’ve hardly seen the nine systems—”

  She blinked and then settled her hand over mine, instantly making me forget what I was saying.

  “I don’t need to be anywhere else, just here, with you. I can live forever in this moment.” She gently closed her fingers. They trembled a little. Was she afraid? She didn’t look it—just content, with that intrigued expression of hers. Such a fucking muddle of contradictions. She terrified me, but in the weirdest way.

  She turned her gaze back to the sea, her hand still on mine. I curled my fingers around hers.

  It might have been the first time I ever truly felt like I was home.

  * * *

  We spent the rest of the night on the beach. At some point, the last few days caught up with me and I fell asleep. When I woke up, chilled to the bone and aching in all the wrong ways, I found that One had draped my brother’s coat over me. She was still sitting, knees drawn up, gazing out at the same sea, although the waves had calmed.

  We watched the sunrise, neither of us saying a word. We didn’t need to talk, which was grand, seeing as I wasn’t great at it. But the quiet, filled only by the rumbling waves, didn’t beg to be filled. I reckoned One knew everything there was to say anyway. What I hadn’t told her she would have read between the words. I couldn’t bullshit her. Any lie I might say she’d catch. I couldn’t hide from her, and I liked it.

  “I’ll take you into some of the old cities. Vancouver, maybe?” I said, willing my battered body into motion. The more the hours went by, the more I felt every fucking bruise and cut the assault on Chite
c had dealt me. “It’s packed and hot,” I added. Ships cluttered the skies around Fleet Command, but One would appreciate the sight. “We’ll need to land on the outskirts though. Fortuitous is probably a marked ship right about now.”

  Although I doubted fleet would care. They had enough trouble and were scattered to the corners of the nine. It would take them a while to regroup, if they bothered now that their beneficiary, Chitec, didn’t exist.

  “I’d like that,” One said, already a few strides ahead, marching up the beach.

  Feeling ten years older than I should, I made my way up the path after her. Fortuitous sat proudly at the clifftop, her wide-angled bridge looming high. Sunlight warmed her broad wings, turning morning dew into wisps of steam. The fleet stars and crescent moon insignia would take some repainting, and I’d have to drill off her serial numbers. I knew a guy out of Jotunheim who’d magic up some authentic-looking dataprints for her—make her legit. She wouldn’t be hauling much cargo, but she’d make a decent deterrent and escort. Wouldn’t be much demand for smuggling anyway, now that people could carry whatever they pleased about the nine without fleet harassing them.

  One disappeared inside the curved bowels of the ship. She’d taken to examining every inch, telling me she wanted to know Fortuitous like “the back of her hand.” I left her to it and returned to the bridge. My gaze skipped straight to the empty flight chair.

  Fran made her choice.

  I dropped into the adjacent chair, snarled as pain twisted up my side, took a few seconds to catch my breath, and then—once I was sure I wasn’t about to pop the med-stitches—started the flight-ready sequence. Fortuitous growled to life beneath my touch, responding like the frisky, high-powered, “fuck with me and I’ll eat you for lunch, little man” beast she was. I patted her dash fondly.

  “Just like your old captain, eh girl?” I wrapped my fingers around the flight sticks and eased her off her struts. “A bitch from dawn ‘til dusk, but I know you’ll come out fighting when it’s needed. Just don’t stab me in the back and we’ll get along fine.”