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  But something must have shown on her face, because he said, “Shay,” sounding so much like his old self that she knew if he said anything more, she was lost.

  She whirled on him. “We’ve got nothing more to say,” she bit out. “And don’t you dare follow me.”

  She immediately regretted it. Using the word dare was the surest way to get Jayce to do anything. But that had been when he was a boy. Now he leaned back against the nearest door, arms crossed, clearly intending to watch her even if he wasn’t going to chase after her.

  Fine. She’d go into the room, explain the situation to her passengers and arrange for a distraction somehow. She just couldn’t deal with Jayce right now, not with her nerves yammering from the unexpectedness of encountering him here and now, of all times and places.

  Shayalin moved toward the third door, already reaching to open it, but its room number was too high: K5. The numbers must alternate on each side of the corridor. She gritted her teeth. Jayce would have to move.

  He watched with open amusement as she turned around and stopped in front of him. “Forgot something?”

  “My business is in there.”

  His reaction startled her. There was nothing overt, only a sudden tenseness that sent her and then both their hands to the empty holsters on their hips.

  She slowly eased her fingers away. “I thought you wanted to know what I was up to,” she said, keeping her tone light. All at once, Jayce struck her as dangerous and capable of stopping her.

  “Haven’t you had enough taunts?” he said. “I’m staying in this room. Move on, Shay.”

  “You’re the girl’s pilot,” she said, suddenly understanding. She felt queasy. Could she call off the deal?

  He moved and there was a flare of pain in her shoulder. Then he had her shoved up against the wall, her arm twisted near to the breaking point and forcing a cry from her. His lips brushed her ear as he said softly but intently, “How do you know this?”

  She snarled a curse, then, “I’m ferrying you in.”

  His hold eased slightly. “You?”

  “The premier was very insistent.” With her arm no longer in agony, she was able to note other sensations: his body against hers, his breath on her neck. She didn’t remember that strength. Jayce had been a wiry youth, but his years in the Corps had given him some bulk, all of it muscle.

  How he would look naked now? She squirmed as she imagined it.

  He seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on her. “But the premier was supposed to meet with…” To her relief, he turned her to face him and released her. “You’re Lin Bailey?” he demanded.

  “I took my father’s name.”

  She watched him sort through the possibilities. “I thought your father was a cargo ship captain,” he said.

  “So he was, before he went rogue.”

  “I never knew his name,” he said. “I never dreamed you were Kennick Bailey’s daughter, the one who’s been terrorizing the shipping lanes.”

  She’d been proud of her reputation, but something in Jayce’s tone made her defensive. “While you ended up in the Corps, just like you planned.” She added a twist of scorn for his predictability. But her words came out more bitter than she’d intended.

  “You’re mad at me?”

  “Nothing to be mad about. You wound up as a glorified chauffeur.”

  The old Jayce would have laughed ruefully. This one narrowed his eyes and said, “Far more than that. But you wouldn’t understand responsibility.”

  She gave him a scornful look. “I’m a ship’s captain, Jayce.”

  “And we’re traveling on your ship.” He shook his head. “The premier must be out of his mind.”

  “I’m good at what I do,” she said.

  “So I’ve heard.” That disapproving note was back.

  “Good enough to get the premier’s attention,” she pointed out.

  “Do you understand what we’re doing?” he asked. “Why it matters? What’s at stake?”

  She did, but it stung that he even asked. So she said blithely, “I’m doing it for the money, of course.”

  He snorted. “Of course.” He reached for the door’s panel then stopped. “How is this going to work?” he asked her quietly.

  “Getting in won’t be a problem,” she said. “Cuoramin takes anyone who can pay. It’s getting out that’ll be fun.”

  “That isn’t what I meant.”

  There was no dancing around it, but she just couldn’t stomach the thought of explaining to him how she’d spent the last ten years. She looked at him directly. “You said what we’re doing is important to you.”

  “It’s important to the human race, Shay.”

  “Going over our past will get in the way of getting this done.”

  His expression hardened. “You’re saying I have to choose between this mission and trying to resume our friendship?”

  “One is much more likely to succeed,” she said. “Let’s focus on that one instead of standing here arguing.”

  “You’ve really changed,” he said, and she hid how serrated those words felt against her heart.

  If she’d truly changed, she’d be a hard-bitten pirate without panicky fluttering in her stomach whenever she contemplated the way she’d left him ten years ago. She couldn’t afford to be off-balance, not for this task.

  “There isn’t anything to talk about anyway,” she said, and the lie settled like lead in her stomach. There were plenty of things she should say. I’m sorry, or I missed you, or I’m glad you did all right in the Corps. But what good could that lead to? She remembered the expression on his face when he’d realized she was a pirate, and her anger kicked up again. She couldn’t regret the path she’d taken. “We should get underway soon. We have things to do that are important for the human race, remember?”

  He exhaled heavily. “All right, I’ll drop it for now. Come inside.” He keyed the door open.

  She walked in and felt trapped when he closed the door behind them.

  The room was empty, save for a narrow bed and a console on the wall, but Jayce glanced at the closed door on the opposite side and said, “She must be using the lav.” He leaned against the wall and just gazed at her for a moment. His eyes might have been watchful or wistful, or both.

  She stared at a spot above his shoulder. This space was too small for all the history between them.

  There was a noise from the lavatory and a woman came into the room, stopping abruptly when she saw Shayalin. She was middle-aged but slim and clearly fit, and she wore her blond hair short and with a confident air. The woman glanced at Jayce and waited for his nod before introducing herself. “I’m Doctor Keaton Rossi,” she said, with a faint accent Shayalin couldn’t place.

  Shayalin had been expecting the attendant to be a maid of some sort. The Speaker’s daughter must be at Cuoramin for a genuine medical concern if a doctor was necessary on this trip. “Lin Bailey. Running the Cuoramin-Albarz express.”

  The doctor nodded. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Good. Are you rated to pilot, by any chance?” It’d be easier to divide shifts into three.

  Keaton blinked. “Only for shuttles,” she said.

  Jayce snorted. “Are you rated?”

  It was true Shayalin had never sat for a formal exam to get a pilot’s license, but she had a decade of experience and the best teacher from her father’s crew, a man who had outmaneuvered a generation of Corps pilots. She gave him a haughty look and ignored the question. “All right. I’m docked in one of the lower bays, epsilon-four.”

  “What kind of ship do you have?” he asked.

  “An Aequitus-class. Is your Swallow docked here?”

  He nodded.

  “The sooner loaded, the sooner we’re off,” she said.

  “And the sooner this is over with?” he said dryly.

  “Exactly,” she said, although they were looking at a period of at least a week together and a few hours wouldn’t make much difference. “Do you
think you can back it into my cargo hold?”

  “Now that,” he said, “is an abuse of a Swallow’s agility. But yes.” He went off to fetch it.

  Keaton came with her to her ship. Along the way she tried delicately probing the doctor for more information. Delicacy was not her strongpoint.

  “So are you Albarzi?”

  “Of course. The premier wouldn’t trust just anyone on this mission.” Keaton glanced at her and seemed to rethink her statement but was too polite to say so. “In any case, I suspect only Albarzi would be willing to be trapped on the other side of the barricade.”

  “You were offworld when the quarantine was set?”

  “Obviously. I was attending a medical conference on Marutai. Do you want my publication history while we’re at it?”

  Shayalin took the hint. “Sorry to be so nosy.” Thankfully they’d reached the dock. “Here’s the Adannaya.” They entered the ship, and she felt herself relax as soon as she stepped off the ramp. She was home.

  She made arrangements for her cargo to be unloaded and delivered to the premier’s agents before giving Keaton a brief tour about the ship. She always started with the same place. “Here’s the galley. We have more than enough food—I was expecting to have my full crew aboard.”

  Keaton opened one of the cupboards before Shayalin could stop her, and a waterfall of noodle packs cascaded onto the counter. Then the floor. They watched in silence—broken only by the rustle of flying noodle packages—until it slowed to a trickle and finally stopped.

  “Ah,” Keaton said. “Well, I’m not hungry at the moment anyhow.”

  They looked at each other and couldn’t help laughing. Keaton lost enough of her stiffness to help Shayalin gather packages from the floor. Between the two of them, they managed to stuff most of the noodles back in and slammed the cupboard closed on them.

  “You do have other food, I hope,” Keaton said.

  “Yes,” Shayalin assured her. “That’s Dikelidi’s emergency stash. She doesn’t eat much else.”

  “As long as I’m not her doctor,” Keaton said, shrugging.

  “Speaking of which,” Shayalin said, leading her to the small medical bay. There was only a single berth for a patient, but it was outfitted with late-generation scanning and holographic layering technology. The doctor only gave it a cursory inspection.

  “It looks adequate to me, and I brought my own kit as well. Hopefully we won’t need either.”

  “Do you know anything about the Speaker’s daughter’s condition?” Shayalin asked.

  Keaton shook her head. “Not yet. Pilot Dietrich’s briefing was…well, brief. But it sounded more like I’m a safeguard.”

  Shayalin didn’t press further. If her ship needed any specialized medical equipment, the premier would have ensured she acquired it and Keaton wouldn’t be so blasé about the infirmary’s sparseness. Pirates tended toward trauma injuries rather than exotic diseases, so they were at least covered if the girl turned out to need a wound sutured or a bone reset.

  She showed Keaton the rest of the ship so the doctor could find her way to the bridge, the shuttle bay, the engine room—the last so she would know to avoid it. Tansor, her engineer, would never forgive her otherwise.

  “Now let’s get you to your cabin,” Shayalin said. She tried not to bristle at the relieved expression that passed over Keaton’s face. Not everyone was as enamored of her ship as she was. She took the doctor to Apris’s room, since he was the neatest of the crew. “We’re not exactly a luxury cruiser, so you’ll have to borrow someone else’s cabin.”

  Keaton winced as she took in the small space but managed a smile and thanked her anyway.

  When the door slid closed, Shayalin looked around the Adannaya’s less-than-gleaming surfaces and fought the urge to engage in some last-minute cleaning before Jayce showed up. He already thought the worst of her. Why make it any easier on him?

  And yet even this brief absence from him felt strange, her nerves jangling as though expectant of something.

  When her comm channel chirped and she opened it to hear his crisp, “On approach,” she went from pacing to hitting the dock ramp control and dashing back to the enclosed deck above the hangar.

  Jayce taxied the Swallow in slowly and carefully, without any of the flourishes most Swallow pilots were prone to. Its tail stopped just short of the far wall. She hit the panel to pull in the ramp. It slid upward to close the hangar.

  The Swallow barely fit. Jayce watched the ramp shut with a handspan to spare and climbed out to meet Shayalin with a look of visible relief.

  She pulled out the cables that would hold the Swallow in place, and Jayce helped her set the magnetic clamps. “She’s a beauty,” she said, admiring the sleek lines.

  “Don’t know what I’d do if you scratched it,” he said. “A year of my salary probably wouldn’t cover repairs.”

  “Whether it got scratched depended on how well you fit in it,” she pointed out. “I’m sure the premier did his research on what type of ship I had before he pulled me into this.”

  He looked about the Adannaya a bit bemusedly. “You don’t strike me as an Aequitus type,” he said.

  “I’m rather fond of them. They hold up better than you think.” She’d gone through a phase where she wanted the newest ship model, or anything she hadn’t flown before, but she bored of them quickly. She’d never forgotten how the Alioqui had taken her away from Centuris for good, though. It was why she chose an Aequitus as her first ship to steal, and never sold or traded it throughout her subsequent infidelities. In the end, she’d settled upon it as her final choice. “It doesn’t surprise me you went for something fast. You were always a speed demon.”

  “Everyone becomes a speed demon once they’ve tried flying a Swallow. They’re so responsive to the lightest touch, and nothing else in space can catch you.”

  “Sure, rub it in when I’m about to launch this clunky lady,” she said, leading him to the bridge.

  But she settled herself into the pilot’s chair with the usual easy affection she felt for her ship. The Adannaya couldn’t sing through space like a Swallow, but she knew exactly how far she could push her. She signaled her intent to vacate the dock, received an acknowledgment and pulled out smoothly. It was a pleasure to be handling her own ship again. She occasionally took her turn at it, but more often than not it was one of her crew who piloted.

  Conscious of Jayce—a career military pilot—watching her, she keyed in the nearest slip point and leaned back. “Should take us three days.”

  “You can’t push it?”

  She reached for the controls then hesitated. There was an even faster way than pouring on speed, but they’d kept it secret for so long.

  “What is it?” Jayce asked.

  He’d have to find out anyway. He was a starship pilot, and there was no way to hide this from him. “I’ve got a slipspace compass.”

  He stared at her. “Is that exactly what it sounds like?”

  “Yes.”

  He let out a low whistle. “No wonder you were never caught.” He started to laugh. “All that careful guarding of slip points and mapping out which planets you might have fled to, completely useless.”

  “And now of vital use on this mission,” she pointed out.

  “How did you get it?” His amusement was fading now.

  “You know my father was a cargo ship captain.”

  Jayce nodded. She was glad he didn’t demand to know what this had to do with his question.

  “His ship, the Burricus, was carrying an experimental prototype and its inventor.”

  “So your father stole this compass?”

  “The story’s fuzzy here,” she said. “It sounded like the inventor stole it from the lab where he’d developed it and decided to test it out during the trip. He didn’t bother telling my father about it until after they successfully slipped. My father was furious. He took the compass for his own.”

  “What happened to the inventor?”


  “I don’t know,” she said, glancing down at the controls. When she looked back up, his mouth was tight.

  “The man was brilliant enough to invent new slipspace technology, and you don’t know what happened to him?”

  “It happened before I joined my father. He never would say.”

  Jayce pressed on his temples. “Do you know what this compass could do for interstellar travel?”

  Her temper was fraying under this unrelenting interrogation. “Of all people, don’t you think I do?”

  His nostrils flared and he leaned away as though disgusted by her. “Dammit, Shay, I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this secret all this time.”

  She was, in fact, intending to turn over the compass to the premier once this was all over, even if her father objected. But she refused to let Jayce rebuke her for it. “You should feel lucky I’m telling you at all!”

  “Who cares about whether I know? What about getting emergency medical supplies to where they’re needed faster? What about people desperate to see their ailing family members? What about—”

  “I get it,” she snarled. “It wasn’t mine to share, all right? It was my father’s. I wasn’t about to rat him out.”

  “He left you and your mother—”

  “He didn’t know I existed. When he found out, he took me in.” She took a breath. “He taught me how to fly.”

  That stilled him. Jayce knew the power of that dream. In a soft voice he said, “That’s the only thing that’s ever been important to you, isn’t it?”

  She shook her head. “Not the only thing.” But her voice lacked conviction.

  After a long pause, he said almost diffidently, “Did I ever matter?”

  That wasn’t a fair question. “Jayce…”

  “Did I?”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Yes.”

  Even without seeing him she knew he was drawing near. His breath warmed her face. Then his lips touched hers, slowly, tenderly, whisper-light at first. It was more a promise of a kiss than anything else.

  Then he made a lost noise and fulfilled that promise, slanting their mouths so they fit more perfectly, parting her lips, curling his tongue against hers. She drank in the taste of him, rich and intoxicating.