James Corey - Nemesis Games

“You think?”

“You don’t?”

“Nah,” Alex said. “I figure we’re fighting over who gets the most meat from the hunt and first access to the water hole. Mating rights. Who believes in which gods. Who has the most money. The usual primate issues.”

“Kids,” Bobbie said.

“Kids?”

“Yeah. Everyone wanting to make sure their kids have a better shot than they did. Or than everyone else’s kids. Something like that.”

“Yeah, probably,” Alex said. He shifted his personal screen back to tactical, pulling up the latest data on the Pella . It still had the strange, cheap-looking civilian craft tethered to it. Alex couldn’t tell if they were taking something off it or putting something on. So far, it was the only craft in the little force that wasn’t clearly military design. There hadn’t been any more contacts from Naomi. He didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a problem, but he couldn’t help checking on the ship every five minutes like he was picking at a scab.

“You ever worry about your kid?” Bobbie asked.

“Don’t have one,” Alex said.

“You don’t? I thought you did.”

“Nope,” Alex said. “Never really had the situation for one, you know? Or I guess I did, and it didn’t fit. What about you?”

“Never had the urge,” Bobbie said. “The family I’ve got has been more than enough.”

“Yeah. Family.”

Bobbie was silent for a moment. Then, “You’re thinking about her.”

“Naomi, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

Alex turned in his couch. Bobbie’s armor reached against both walls, servomotors locked in place to brace her. She looked crucified. The wound in the deck where she’d pulled out the crash couch made it seem like she’d burst through the bottom of the ship. Her expression managed to be both sympathetic and hard.

“Of course, I’m thinking about her,” Alex said. “She’s right there. And probably she’s in trouble. And I can’t figure out how the hell she got there in the first place. It’s not going to be too long before the cavalry gets here to save us, and when they do, I don’t know if I should be helping to attack the Pella or protect her.”

“That’s hard,” Bobbie agreed. “But you know we’ve got our mission. Get Smith to Luna. We’ve got to stand our watch.”

“I know. Can’t help thinking about it, though. I keep putting together schemes where we use the missiles we’ve got left to make them turn her over to us.”

“Any of them even remotely plausible?”

“Not a one,” Alex said.

“There’s nothing worse than keeping to your duty when it means leaving one of your own in danger.”

“No shit.” Alex looked at the readouts from the Pella . “You know, maybe —”

“Stand your watch, sailor. And heads up. We’ve got more PDCs coming in.”

Alex had already seen them and started laying in the course corrections. “Optimistic little shits. Got to give them that.”

“Maybe they think you’ll get sleepy.”

The overloading of the pinnace was awkward and strange. Moving from the pilot’s seat to the head meant both Alex and the prime minister of Mars squeezing past Bobbie’s power armor. Or, for Bobbie, exiling Smith to the empty space where her couch had been while she used the tiny cabin to break down her armor or climb back into it. No one even suggested that they sleep by hot-bunking in the cabin.

Smith himself seemed like a personable man, polite and thoughtful. Inoffensive was a word that came to mind. Alex had stopped following Martian politics sometime around the slow zone, so he didn’t come in with any preconceptions about the man or his policies. When they did talk, it was usually about small things – the popular culture of Mars when they were both growing up, Smith’s gratitude for the efforts he and Bobbie were putting into keeping him alive, some questions about what Ilus had been like. Alex had the sense that Smith was, if anything, a little starstruck by him. Which was pretty thoroughly odd, when he thought about it.

Still, when Smith popped his head out of the cabin to tell Bobbie that there was a message specifically for her from Avasarala, it had the sense of a secretary who was vaguely uneasy interrupting his boss. Alex felt a weird impulse to reassure the man it was all right, but wasn’t sure how to say it without being even more awkward.

Bobbie thanked him, and for a while she was silent. Alex kept his eyes on the enemy and the sun and the data from the incoming UN escort ships that were still hidden by the sun’s corona.

“Alex?” Bobbie sounded frustrated.

“Yup.”

“I can’t make this thing’s incoming feed talk to my suit. Can you put this up on a screen for me? I’d do it myself, but —”

He switched over to the comm system, opened a panel on the wall screen, and sent the message to it. Chrisjen Avasarala appeared. She looked older than Alex remembered her. There were dark circles under her eyes and a grayness to her skin that didn’t belong there. Her sari only made her look paler. When she spoke, though, her voice was just as sure as ever.

“Bobbie, I need any data you have about the missing Martian ships. I know, you’re going to tell me how you’ve already given me everything, and of course I trust and believe all that you say, blah blah fucking blah. But I need it. Now. I’ve got confirmation of two dozen Martian military vessels that are burning hard for the Ring. Everything from the Barkeith to a couple resupply barges. It’s like a little fucking fleet all its own. Smith says he’s looking into it, which could mean anything from he knows exactly what’s going on and doesn’t want to tell me to Mars is in the middle of a coup and he doesn’t want to tell me. One way or the other, he’s locked up tight as a rat’s asshole.”

“Sorry about this,” Bobbie said over her shoulder.

“It’s nothing she hasn’t said to my face,” Smith replied.

“You want me to stop the playback?” Alex asked, but Avasarala was already talking again.

“If these are more ships that got sold to whoever’s chasing you, I need to know. If they’re all MCRN vessels with actual Martian Navy crews, that’s something very different. And since they’re not answering, I’m stuck trying to peep in the windows. If you’ve held something back – something sensitive, something that made you uncomfortable to share with me – I absolutely understand. Your patriotism and loyalty to Mars has been a thorn in my fucking side since the day I met you, but I respect it. It speaks well of you as a soldier and as a person, and now it’s time to get the fuck over it.

“Also, Nathan, if you’re listening, and I assume you are, I’m the best and only friend you’ve got. Give her permission to share what she has, or I swear to God I’ll have you turning tricks out of a prefab shed on the side of the highway. I’m trying to save humanity here. It would be just fantastic if someone would help .”

Her voice broke on the last word, and tears appeared in her eyes. Alex felt a tightness in his chest and a sense of sorrow he’d managed to ignore until it now welled up in him. Avasarala took a deep breath, sneered, and turned her gaze back to the camera. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand angrily. Like they’d betrayed her.

“So. No more fucking around. I love and adore you, and I can’t wait for you – all of you – to be where I can keep you safe. Be careful. And send me the fucking data. Now.”

The message ended. Bobbie let out a long, shuddering breath. Alex was pretty sure if he looked back, she’d be weeping too. Smith’s voice came from the door to the cabin.

“I’ve told her all I know about them,” Smith said. “The ships were not listed as missing. The crews aboard them all check out as Martian citizens. But so did the false escort ships. Until I have a complete audit of the military’s personnel and supply databases, I don’t know what I’m looking at.”