Justin Stanchfield: Ghosts Come Home

Dev’s stomach lurched. If there had been any doubt remaining in his mind who the blond woman was, Alvarez had just removed it. He stared at the dais as Kammie Tule rose and walked to the podium, her hand briefly twining with the Captain’s as they passed each other. Few in the crowd noticed the gesture, but it made Dev so angry his teeth ground together.

“Hello.” Kammie smiled nervously as she took the podium. “I don’t have much to add, other than we need every pilot and shuttle we can enlist.” Whether she meant to or not, her gaze settled on Dev. Time seemed to freeze before she once again began speaking.

“I wish I could tell you that this mission will be perfectly safe, but I can’t. These are going to be low orbit drops which all involve aero-braking, and we can’t rule out the possibility of sabotage from the people who released the plague in the first place. That’s why we’re offering a ten-thousand credit to everyone who volunteers.” Her lips drew into a thin smile. “But I can at least promise you it will be over quickly, one way or another. Portius is only six transit days from Oasis. If things go as we hope, we can drop all of the canisters within a week. And, if they go wrong, well…” Kammie sighed. “If the mission fails, we will bring you back here before things get out of hand.”

She continued speaking a few minutes longer, but Dev heard none of it, his mind locked on her face, lost in the horrible, wonderful, dangerous realization that after two decades she was back. Sweat pooled between his shoulder blades, his breath coming in gasps as if a belt was wrapped around his chest and was being tightened by the second. As soon as the meeting concluded he rose and hurried toward the exit, but the flow of people slowed him, blocking his way. When he finally did make it past the double doors into the service corridor, he let his breath out in a loud sigh, glad to be free.

“Hello, Dev.”

He stiffened, then turned around. Kammie Tule stood next to the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, so close he could smell the faint, earthy musk of her skin.

“Hi, Kam.” A wave of dizziness crashed over him and he spread his legs wide to keep his balance. “It’s good to see you.”

“I didn’t know you were here when we docked. I promise.”

He shrugged. “Would it have mattered?”

“It might have.” A thin glaze of sweat covered her forehead, the pupils of her deep blue eyes so large they seemed to pulse. She reached toward him, but Dev flinched away. She dropped her arm to her side. “This isn’t easy for me, either.”

“I’m not blaming you, Kammie.” Before he could say more the tall man who had shared the podium stepped up behind her. Dev’s fingers closed into fists as Alvarez casually slipped his arm around her slender waist. He nodded at Dev, the smile on his face warm and genuine.

“I was wondering where you’d gone,” Alvarez said. His gaze moved to Dev. “Are you one of our volunteers? I certainly hope so. We can use every pilot we can get.”

“I…” Dev’s throat seemed to close, the scent of Kammie’s skin roaring in his senses. He forced himself to take a step back before he lashed out at the man. “I have to go.” He spun on his heel and vanished into the trickle of bodies still making their way out of the hangar, the veins in his temples pulsing as he struggled not to turn around, his heart breaking as if he was twelve years old again and watching while the only person he was allowed to love was led away.

The morning was a waste, his mind spinning in dark clouds that refused to part. Dev preflighted his shuttle and left the station, but only made one run, nearly sending the container he grabbed careening sunward because he forgot to secure the grapple forks around it. Feigning illness, he returned to berth and locked down his ship, then left without bothering to shower or change out of his flight clothes. Letha was waiting for him when he stepped inside the apartment. He started to say something inane but she cut him off with a kiss.

“I’ve been following the chatter all morning on the forums,” she said, her arms still around him. “I think you should go.”

“What?” Dev stared at his wife in obvious amazement. It was the last thing he expected her to say. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Look, lover…” An almost embarrassed smile creased her face. “I’ve already played this scene out in my head a few thousand times today, so just shut up and let me talk. You’re going to tell me that you can’t join your mates going off to save Portius because I’m preggers, then I’m going to tell you that I’m just starting my third trimester and you’ll be home long before my water breaks, and even if you’re not it’s the docs who’ll deliver the baby, not you. I’ll be fine.” Letha paused for breath. “What they’re trying to do out at Portius is a good thing. And god knows we could use the bonus they’re offering.”

“This isn’t about the money,” Dev said.

“No, it isn’t.” She laid her head against his chest and let him draw her closer. He drank in the clean scent of her hair, her breath warm against his shoulder. Though he couldn’t see her face, he was sure she was crying.

“Let’s sit down.” He guided her to the little couch in the corner of the room. They dropped into the worn-out cushions, her head still resting against him. He stroked her upper arm, reveling in the softness, refusing to compare her with Kammie Tule. “How much do you know about my past?”

“I know you’re wasting yourself here,” she said, her voice falling. “You should be flying starships, not shuffling containers.”

“Letha…”

“Damn it, love, I’m trying to be noble here.” She pulled back and looked up at him. “This might be your one chance to do something that matters, something that people are going to talk about for generations, and I won’t have you blaming me for missing it.”

“I could never blame you.”

“You say that now. But when the rest of the pilots around here board that freighter you’re going to hate yourself for not being with them. I don’t much like the thought of being alone, but I likes the thought of you hating yourself even less. Go, would you?”

The computer chimed, an incoming message, but neither bothered to glance toward the screen. Around them, as if the mural was reading their dark moods, a thunderstorm built on the horizon, casting a purple glow across the tiled floor. Dev chewed on his lower lip before launching into the things he had never told a single person. “I’m not saying you aren’t right,” he began. “But I have to tell you some things about me that I don’t think you’re going to like. You know my family belonged to a gypsy-freighter, right?”

“You make it sound like you were slaves.” She smiled weakly.

“Not much difference.” He shrugged. “Out in the reaches where we traveled, there aren’t any restrictions on what geneticists can do. When people say I’m a born pilot, they’re right. I was gene-tailored, just like my parents and their parents before them. I come from a long line of star-pilots, so it was just assumed I’d stay with our ship, or be contracted out to fly somebody else’s. But that’s not the worst of it. We weren’t just gene-tailored, we were line-bred like race horses.”

“All right.” Some of her usual cockiness returned. “So far you’re proving my point.”

“There’s more.” Dev swallowed, his mouth dry. “The captain and the owners made sure before I was ever born that I would pass my genes on with another pilot. Part of the tweaking that was done to me was to make sure I would fall in love with the person they wanted. I was born with a physical addiction to a girl named Kammie Tule whose mother was the pilot off another freighter. We were raised together like brother and sister, except it just assumed that when the time came, we would marry and keep the line going.”