Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

YZ/I reached out with a hand that didn’t quite touch her arm. “Let’s say you made a very convincing argument.”

She glared at him, temples blazing.

YZ/I shrugged. “I needed you to give me persuasive arguments to use on Lanyard and his crew.”

“ Fuck Lanyard and his crew!”

YZ/I grinned. “Not for me to do, dear. But I do have to watch my backside. If I’m not careful to justify it, he could make a move against me in the Cabinet. We’re not invulnerable, you know.”

“You’d annihilate him.”

“Maybe. But it would be messy. And it doesn’t pay to be overconfident.”

Tracy-Ace snarled, “So what justification are you using?”

“Why, just what you said. If we want the Centrist Worlds to play ball with us, we need to make a good-faith gesture. And it’ll send a signal to our own people that things are changing.” YZ/I cocked his head, eyes alight. “You always say these things better than I do. That’s one reason I promoted you.” He grinned again. “You know, Carlotta bet me I wouldn’t do it. I can’t wait to hear her reaction.”

Tracy-Ace turned to Legroeder. “I cannot believe this.”

“Believe it,” YZ/I said. “Now, both of you clear out of here and let me do my work, okay?”

As he left with Tracy-Ace, Legroeder said in puzzlement, “I don’t get it. Aren’t you glad he’s doing it?”

“Of course I’m glad. But the sonofabitch was toying with me. I don’t know how he gets away with it, honestly.” Tracy-Ace paused in her stride and closed her eyes for a count of three, her lips twitching as she subvocalized. Her eyes popped open again. “I’m going to have to call him on that, sooner or later. Anyway—” she drew a breath and pursed her lips in a frown. “I’m glad we’re sending some people home, I’m glad we’re pressuring KM/C, I’m glad of all except one thing.”

“What’s that?”

She turned, her eyes dark. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

They spent most of that day together, and most of it in silence. Or if not silence, then in conversation about matters technical and administrative. How to prepare and organize the Impris passengers and crew; how to present the Kyber bargain to the Fabri authorities, and the Narseil authorities.

Dinner was almost as silent; they hardly ate, pushing aside a savory meal ordered specially by YZ/I for them for the occasion. They sat on the edge of Tracy-Ace’s bed, looking at the walls, glancing at each other, scarcely touching. Then her hand went out, and his. They clasped tentatively; then hard. He touched her hair, stroked it. They began to kiss.

They made love in a frantic, almost wordless coupling. His implants remained silent; it was just the two of them, undressing each other in awkward haste. There was so much he wanted to say—and he could only say it in whispers and sighs, with his hands on her and their bodies pressing together. Her hands were all over him, drawing out his pent-up fears and his streaming, billowing desires all at the same time; and woven through it were her desires, not through the implants but through sound and scent and touch and murmured half-words. She moaned as he touched her; she didn’t want him to leave, now or tomorrow or the next day; he didn’t want to leave her at all. Their desire was bubbling over; he was already inside her in a way, but it wasn’t enough. He was holding her naked breasts, and her hands were moving on him, and he was breathing so fast he couldn’t think.

It was fast and slow, all at the same time. He rose against her, and she pushed back, crying out; and when they came, it was with a cascade of pain and gladness and sorrow. And then they subsided into a tangled heap, whispering and murmuring without saying a word, and yet meaning everything.

She stood with him as the entire Narseil crew filed past onto Impris . They were the last to board, except for Legroeder. “I will come and see you,” Tracy-Ace said softly. “When I can.”

“How? When?” he murmured. He was having trouble talking, with the lump in his throat.

She looked away. “I can’t say, exactly. When I can.”

He nodded, but it was hard to believe. Node Alfa of Fortress Ivan, visiting Faber Eridani?

She grabbed his arm suddenly. “Legroeder! I almost forgot! Rings! ”

“What?”

“That boy—Bobby Mahoney?”

His pulse quickened. “What about him?”

Tracy-Ace had a look of intensity on her face; she was focused inward, on her augments. “A source on DeNoble found a record of the boy being taken from DeNoble to another outpost.”

“Yes?”

“The trail ended there, from his point of view. But he thought that someone more highly placed might be able to pick it up.”

Legroeder frowned. “Which leaves us where? Do you have someone more highly placed?”

“Well—KM/C is pretty highly placed.”

Legroeder opened his mouth, closed it. “I thought you guys were practically mortal enemies!”

“Well… you’d be surprised how much we can compartmentalize our agreements and disagreements. There’s a certain… I guess you could call it a code of—” She hesitated.

“What? Honor among thieves?”

Tracy-Ace reddened. “Basically, yes. I mean, a ship here and a ship there… it’s almost like chips in a board game. That may sound cruel—”

“It is cruel.”

“Yes, it is. But it’s their way. You heard YZ/I talking about a bet he had with KM/C? Well, I’ve been leaning on him to include finding that boy and giving him his freedom, as part of the payoff when we win.”

Legroeder was astounded. “Do you really think there’s hope?”

“There’s always hope.”

“Harriet will be very happy to hear that,” Legroeder said softly, almost to himself. Cocking his head, he asked, “Do you mind if I ask—what exactly is this bet?”

She shrugged, a little smile on her face. “You’ll find out soon, I imagine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see. Promise.”

“Rigger Legroeder,” called one of the ship’s officers from the hatch. “The captain is ready for departure.”

“They need you.” Tracy-Ace swallowed, gazing at him.

“I hate this,” he said hoarsely.

“I do, too,” Tracy-Ace whispered. She leaned into him and kissed him earnestly. “I love you, I think. Good-bye.”

Legroeder still felt the pressure of her lips as he turned and boarded Impris .

The pursuit was getting faster. The Narseil driver, flying low through the suburban streets, had put some distance between the embassy van and their overhead pursuit; but another floater-van, a white one, had appeared out of nowhere to their left and was trying to pull alongside them.

“Stay down!” Peter ordered Harriet, before snapping another street direction to the Narseil driver.

My God, not again, Harriet thought, recalling the attack on their approach to the McGinnis house. Could these people know about the McGinnis data? They’d already shown their willingness to kill.

Assistant Ambassador Dendridan had been on the com to the embassy. He leaned forward and spoke to the driver, then said to Harriet, “We’re on our own for the next few kilometers. But we’ve got the edge, eh? I doubt their drivers can see into the future. Brace yourself.”

An instant later, the restraint-field kicked on as the driver spun the van violently around an acute right turn, thrusters whining. The white van missed the turn, and could be heard, shrieking, trying to avoid other vehicles as it braked. The Narseil driver veered past two ground-cars and rocketed up a ramp onto a high-speed glideway. Before Harriet could catch her breath, they’d hurtled down the next ramp off the glideway, then careened around to get back on it, headed in the other direction.