Entanglement E-Book

R.S. Penney

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Something lurks at the edge of known space.

Strange sensor readings in the outer solar system force Anna Lenai and Jack Hunter to investigate a military installation. There, they discover a secret plan to develop the ultimate weapon.

Meanwhile, Jena Morane struggles to expose the treachery of Grecken Slade. The secrets she uncovers could lead to war between Leyria and its aggressive, space-faring neighbours.

Surrounded by enemies from all sides, can the Justice Keepers maintain peace in the galaxy?

Leseprobe

ENTANGLEMENT

JUSTICE KEEPERS SAGA BOOK III

R. S. PENNEY

Copyright (C) 2021 R.S. Penney

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter

Published 2022 by Next Chapter

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Interlude

Part II

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Next in the Series

About the Author

PROLOGUE

Through the canopy window of her shuttle, she saw nothing but clear blue sky with thin wispy clouds and the sun shining bright overhead. White, snow-covered landscape stretched all the way to the distant horizon.

“Computer,” Anna said. “Target enlargement.”

The smartglass on her window magnified a small square, zooming in on another shuttle with sleek, curving wings. The men on board that ship had come to Earth to meet with a Saudi Arabian terrorist who specialized in chemical weapons. Usually Keepers worried about the dangers of Leyrian technology finding its way to Earth, but the reverse could be just as disastrous.

Anna scrunched up her face, shaking her head. “Not today, my friends,” she said, tapping a button on her console. “Shuttle Calesa, this is Agent Leana Lenai of the Justice Keepers. You are ordered to land, or I will open fire.”

The other ship veered up and to the right.

Anna pulled back on her flightstick, reorienting herself until she had the other ship dead centre in her window. A targeting reticle lit up once she had them in her sights, and she pulled the trigger.

White tracers exploded from her wings, converging in twin lines on the other ship. A flare of flickering light told her she had punched through the shields, and alarms blared to tell she had scored a hit.

The Calesa turned in a quick yaw to the right, pointing its nose at her. Those alarms became harsh screeches that said she was being targeted. Anna thumbed the hat-switch on her flightstick.

Her shuttle slid downward.

White tracers flew over her canopy window, each one hitting nothing but air. Anna reoriented the nose of her shuttle, taking aim once again. She fired and did some damage to the Calesa's belly.

The other ship lurched forward.

It flew over her shuttle in a steep nose dive that would take it back to the surface. Anxiety seized Anna's heart with icy fingers. These people were trying to flee the solar system. Why would they turn?

She stepped on the pedal.

Her ship yawed around until she was staring at the snow-covered fields of southern Ohio, the Calesa a gray blur in the magnified square. “Okay, you can fly,” a man's voice said in her speakers. “But can you catch up in time to stop me from turning those farms down there into piles of scorched rubble?”

Anna felt her jaw drop.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tossed her head about. “Computer,” she ordered. “Use geographic data and display all human settlements.”

Several bright red dots appeared against the landscape, and sure enough, the Calesa was following a swooping course that would take it right over one of them. A quick check of her readouts confirmed that its weapons were active.

“Your call, Lenai,” the man went on. “I'm gonna fire in three…two…”

She broke off pursuit.

On her instruments, she watched the Calesa level off and head back toward the upper atmosphere, gunning its engines to full speed. She could pursue, of course, but her readouts said its weapons were still armed. If she tried to subdue them while inside the atmosphere, they would fire. Continuing this little skirmish wasn't an option. As it stood, there was only one death on her conscience – a young pilot named Dex Aron – and she had no intention of adding more.

“Anna,” Jack said over the speaker. “You okay?”

Baring her teeth with a hiss, Anna winced. The heat in her face could have melted ice. “Yeah, I'm fine,” she growled. “Forward me your telemetry; I'll go after him once he clears the atmosphere.”

“You're too late,” Jack insisted. “He's gonna hit escape velocity in less than fifteen seconds. We've got ships trying to converge, but they won't make it in time.”

“Damn it!”

Traveling at FTL speeds was a tricky business; the closer you got to a major source of gravity, the harder it was to form a warp field. Most ships couldn't do it until they put some distance between themselves and the planet in question.

Anna spread her hands over the touchscreen display, bringing up the navigational systems. She tapped in a course that would take her to the upper atmosphere. Finding her prey would be easy enough once she hit vacuum.

Closing her eyes, Anna took a deep breath through her nose. “I'm going after those bastards,” she said with a nod. “Have your ships form a blockade in the outer system. I'll herd them into the net.”

“But, An-”

“Do it!”

At times like this, she reminded herself of the several dozen New Year's resolutions she had made to control her temper. Very few things pushed Anna to the point where she started growling, but personal failure was one of them. She wasn't going to let these men slip through her fingers. They had pulled a dirty trick, but there were no innocents for them to threaten in space.

The blue sky in her window faded to swirling mists that parted to reveal a vast expanse of stars twinkling in the blackness. She powered the ship's gravitational drives, accelerating to a speed that would let her break orbit in seconds.

Anna checked her instruments.

A ship at warp left a ripple in SlipSpace that was detectable at great distances. Her opponents were headed toward Jupiter. So…They intended to perform a maneuver called “Edge-Dancing.”

They would hover in orbit at the very spot where gravity became too strong to form a warp field, hoping to lure her in. The idea was to pull away quickly while your pursuer flew in a mad dash toward the planet. After that, you could spend several minutes at FTL speeds while your opponent struggled to climb out of the gravity well, and the further you got from the planet, the faster you could go.

Anna looked up with a flat expression, blinking through the window. “Not gonna work on me,” she said, shaking her head. “You boys are dealing with a lady who spent the last three years learning your tricks.”

She activated the warp drive.

Tiny stars converged in her window, forming a single point of light far off in the distance. Switching to SlipSpace frequencies, she called Station Twelve. “Jack,” she said. “If those bastards double back, have your people converge on them.”

“Anna, what are you-”

“Just trust me, would you?”

There was silence for a moment, and she thought she heard Director Morane's soft voice on the line. “Okay,” Jack said. “We've got your back. The Nemesis and the Noroko are headed to the outer system. I've got the Sentinel standing by to follow you.”

When she dropped out of warp, that single point of light split apart into millions of stars that spread out in all directions. The course she had set had taken her past Jupiter by several dozen light-seconds. You didn't want to get too close to a planet like that. The gravity well could trap a ship easily.

She turned her ship and saw a thin crescent of beige and red against the blackness of space. Jupiter in the light of the distant sun. For a brief moment, she wondered how something so beautiful could be so deadly.

It wasn't gravity itself that prevented a ship from going to warp; rather it was the thing that caused gravity. Massive stellar bodies changed the curvature of space-time – all matter did, really – and this was the source of the problem.

You might say that each planet exerted its own natural Bending, and since a warp field was also an attempt to change the shape of space-time, any ship trying to fly at FTL speeds had to compete with the curvature imposed by neighbouring objects. That was why ships flew faster in deep space than they did within the confines of a solar system.

Her console beeped.

“That can't be right…” She mopped sweat-slick bangs away from her forehead. “Jack, my instruments are detecting power readings on Ganymede.”

“Say again.”

“Ganymede.”

“Jupiter's moon?”

Crossing her arms, Anna frowned down at herself. “The one and only,” she said with a touch of exasperation in her voice. “That shouldn't be possible. My people have never set up a base anywhere else in your-”

The readings vanished.

She performed another scan and detected no energy readings on Ganymede. Was it just a glitch? Even the best equipment could be finicky sometimes. Anna would fly in for a closer look but for the fact that she was otherwise engaged.

Her navigational computer picked up another warp trail, this one originating from a point on the other side of the planet. By the size and shape of it, there was no doubt in her mind that this was the Calesa. They must have concluded that she wasn't about to fall for their little ruse.

Sadly, space was vast, and when a ship's crew decided to run for it, they could fly off on any vector. Calesa wasn't heading back to Earth, and it wasn't trying to pass her either. Instead, it was following a course that – from her perspective – appeared to be up and to the right.

She followed.

Once again, the stars in her window clumped together to form a single impossibly bright point of light. In roughly three seconds, she would be ready to intercept her prey. Anna steeled herself.

She dropped out of warp.

Slamming a hand down on the console, she triggered a SlipPulse that would disrupt the other ship's warp field. Alarms blared and told her that she had successfully forced her enemies back to sub-light speed.

A tiny square in the window expanded, providing a magnified image of the other shuttle in green wireframe. She switched to particle beam weapons – much more useful in a vacuum – and fired.

Twin bolts of bright orange plasma converged on her opponent and knocked the ship off course. Her instruments said that she had damaged Calesa's shield emitters, and that one more hit would destroy them.

Anna hesitated.

The moment of weakness allowed her opponents to jump to warp once again. They were gone in a flash, flying toward the edge of the solar system at several times the speed of light.

Anna was about to give chase, but her instruments picked up two other warp trails converging on the Calesa. Those were Phoenix-Class cruisers! The Nemesis and Noroko, if she recalled correctly.

Boxed in by three enemies, the terrorists did the only thing they could. Their warp trail vanished, and they powered down their weapons. “All right,” the man's voice said over her speakers. “You win.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

It was over.

“Why are the shields up?”

The young lieutenant who sat hunched over his console in Central Ops started to tremble and shake. Sweat stains on his blue uniform made the fabric cling to his skin, and his hair practically glistened.

Colonel Brax Elis – a man with a thick gray goatee and silver hair that he wore slicked back – looked up to squint at the fool. “I asked you a question, Lieutenant,” he said, striding forward. “Why are the shields up?”

Central Ops was a large room with control stations arrayed in a semicircle in front of a window that looked out on the surface of Ganymede. Right then, the field of stars that should have been twinkling overhead was obscured of by a flickering dome of white electrostatic energy.

Brax stood with hands folded behind his back, pacing to the edge of a small dais that overlooked his officers. “Lieutenant!” he screamed. “I asked you a question! Lower the shields now!”

The young woman who sat at the neighbouring console stood and quickly pushed Lieutenant Corlan out of his seat. He dropped to the floor with a thump, still trembling in obvious terror.

Brax could only see the end of Risa Torala's dark brown ponytail – the rest of her hair was hidden beneath a cap – but she took over Corlan's console and began keying in commands with the fury of a nest of wasps.

The force-field vanished.

Once again, Brax could see stars through the window. He would have breathed a sigh of relief if not for the fact that shuttles that had chosen today of all days to fly out to his corner of the solar system had probably already detected this installation.

Pressing a fist to his mouth, Brax felt his face redden. He coughed several times in quick succession. “Lieutenant Corlan,” he said. “Perhaps you could explain this hideous lapse in judgment.”

The man stood.

He turned around to face the dais with hands pressed to his sides, head hanging in shame. Tall and slim, Rayse Corlan had smooth copper skin and dark brown hair. “I had to do it, sir,” he insisted. “The ship.”

“What ship?”

Corlan looked up to blink at him, tears glistening on the man's cheeks. “That big Leyrian cruiser,” he insisted. “It was powering weapons. A moment more and it would have carved a hole right through us!”

Brax crossed his arms with a heavy sigh, shaking his head ever so slowly. “There was no ship in orbit, Lieutenant,” he said. “Check your instruments. Two Leyrian ships flew by five minutes ago on a course that took them to the outer system.”

He descended the steps that led up to the dais, fury boiling in his belly. This young fool had probably ruined years of work that had gone into keeping this place a secret. If the bloody Keepers decided to start poking around…

Corlan stood at attention with his head held high, blinking tears away. “There was a ship,” he whispered. “I saw it on my instruments; you can check for yourself! The damn thing had its main guns powered.”

Brax seized his shirt.

Clenching his teeth, he hissed and leaned in close with spittle flying from his lips. Good. Let the young fool suffer the indignity! “There was no ship,” he growled. “We will check the instruments right now.”

Torala swiveled around to face them, her face as smooth as a block of ice. “I have already done so, sir,” she began. “The logs confirm that there was no ship in orbit. I'm afraid Lieutenant Corlan is incorrect.”

“But-” Corlan stammered.

Brax stepped away.

He turned his back on the other man and strode over to the wall, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Think about it, Lieutenant,” he muttered. “If you use that brain the Gods gave you, you'll see what happened.”

“Sir?”

“She did this to you.”

In the silence that followed, Brax could hear the various beeps and clicks that came from the control stations. No one wanted to speak. Better for them that they didn't. Red-hot fury dimmed to a cold rage that settled into his chest. That woman had done this to one of his officers.

Corlan was not entirely exempt from his anger. The idiot boy had allowed it. Swaying a person's thoughts was a slow process, which meant Corlan had spent considerable time in her presence.

Brax rounded on him.

The other man frowned, turning his head to look at the wall. “I don't see how she could have, sir,” he muttered. “It's not like I go down there. I have never once set foot inside the cell-block.”

“That's not true, sir.”

Risa Torala sat with hands folded in her lap, a disgusted frown on her face. “The logs indicate that Lieutenant Corlan has used his security code to access the cell-block several dozen times in the last few months.”

“For what purpose, Lieutenant?”

The man went beet red, bowing his head to avoid eye contact. He trembled with some hidden anxiety, barely able to remain upright. “Sir, I'd rather not say,” he began. “I can assure you that I have not-”

Brax felt his face crumple. “Never mind. I don't even care,” he muttered. “You are dismissed from duty and placed under house arrest for the remainder of this mission.”

“Sir, I-”

“Enough!”

Closing his eyes, Brax tilted his head back and took a deep breath. “Captain Torala, have this man removed from Central Ops,” he said. “I think it's time I went down to pay a visit to our guest.”

And when he was through with her, she would be far, far more compliant. Pain was a truly wonderful motivator even when the subject wasn't human.

PARTI

1

A dart landed in the bullseye with a nice thump, wobbling in a blur for a moment before it stilled. Seconds later, two others joined it, one on the left and one on the right. “Oh, yes!” Anna cheered.

Four brick walls surrounded this little Irish pub, three of which were lined with booths. On her left, the bar counter was operated by a tall man with graying hair and a thick goatee.

The dartboard was in the corner, right next to the fire exit, leaving them with plenty of room to play. As hangouts went, this place was pretty nice. It had taken a few months, but she was finally getting used to life here on Earth.

Anna stood with her hands at her sides, smiling down at the floor. “Well then,” she said with a shrug. “I guess I win again. Which means my next drink is coming out of your pocket, Tanaben Loranai.”

Ben stood next to her with arms folded, scowling at the dartboard. “That's not even remotely fair,” he said, shaking his head. “You've got those enhanced Keeper senses that give you perfect aim.”

“Not perfect,” she said. “But good.”

Anna spun on her heel and made her way over to a booth, dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a light green t-shirt. As usual, she kept her short strawberry-blonde hair up in a ponytail.

She found Jack sitting with his hands folded on the table, grinning as he trembled with silent laughter. “Are you done humiliating him?” he asked. “Because you know he'll be itching for a rematch.”

She sat down across from him.

Jack looked up at her with lips pursed, blinking slowly. “The guy has a very fragile ego,” he explained. “If you don't let him win a couple games, he's going to be whining at me for weeks.”

“Not…my…problem.”

Anna leaned back with hands folded behind her head, closing her eyes tight. “Let me ask you something,” she began. “Have you ever considered asking Gabrina to join us one night?”

Jack made a face that belonged on a man with a bellyache. “No, I haven't,” he answered. “Besides, she's almost ten years older than us, and she probably won't want to hang out with the pups.”

“Oh come on!”

“What?”

Crossing her arms, Anna hunched over and shook her head. “Don't get me wrong; you guys are great,” she said. “But we need a little more estrogen to balance the group's dynamics.”

“So you ask her.”

“She knows you best.”

His reluctance set off alarm bells in the back of her mind. The urge to ask him for clarification was barely a coherent thought before the answer leaped out at her. “You like her!” Anna shouted. “Bleakness take me, you've got a thing for her.”

Clamping a hand over his mouth, Jack squeezed his eyes shut. The fit of wheezing laughter that followed told her she was way off. “Nice try, Veronica,” he said. “But your Detective skills need a little honing.”

The mix of emotions that flew through her left her feeling very off balance. There had been a time when it looked like she and Jack would become close, but an assignment off-world had put an end to those plans. They had never really defined what they wanted from one another in the months since she'd been back.

Part of that was because she wasn't entirely sure just what she wanted. Much of the spark that she had once felt had faded into a comfortable friendship. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to close the door, but…

Anna smiled down at the table, shaking her head as she forced out a little awkward laughter. “So what is it then?” she asked. “Because I can't think of any other reason why you wouldn't want to make friends with a colleague.”

“She asked me not to.”

“Huh?”

Jack leaned against the seat cushion with his eyes closed, breathing deeply to calm himself. “I tried to make her feel welcome,” he explained. “She took it as an attempt at flirting and made it clear that she wasn't interested.”

“Well, what did you do?”

He spread his hands in an emphatic gesture that made it clear this conversation was over. “Look, I'm not gonna do this,” he said. “Women are always saying that they should be allowed to be friendly without it being interpreted as a romantic overture. Well, that vice needs a little versa, if you ask me.”

Anna frowned, her cheeks burning with intense heat. She lowered her eyes to stare into her lap. “You're right,” she said. “I'm sorry. We don't have to invite Gabi if you don't want to.”

“For the record,” Jack added, “I asked her to have lunch with me, and she accepted. But after the speech she made about not wanting to give me the wrong impression, I kind of figured it'd be a bad idea to ask again.”

“That's probably wise.”

A part of her was strangely pleased with the idea of Jack finding someone else. For one thing, that would take the pressure off her. After her rather miserable experience with Daython, she didn't really want to think about dating. Jack, however, seemed quite eager to discuss the matter.

He looked up at her with those big blue eyes, and she suddenly realized she would hate to be interrogated by this man. “What about you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is there anyone on your mind?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“No?”

“No,” she mumbled. “To be perfectly honest, I think I'm going to avoid dating for the next little while. It's caused me nothing but frustration lately.” At the moment, the very last thing she wanted was to focus on the mess that was her love life.

Ben pulled up a chair and sat down with his elbows on the edge of the table. “So,” he said, glancing at each of them in turn. “What do you say, Lenai? Are you up for a quick game of pool to close off the night?”

Anna forced a small smile, shaking her head. “No thanks,” she answered. “I think I'll spare Jack the pain of your inevitable defeat. Besides, it's getting late and we all have things to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Ben muttered. “Don't want to miss the show.”

“The show?”

Jack chuckled as he leaned over the table. “You know the one where Harry and Jena come in at least five minutes apart so that we won't find out they're sleeping together?”

“Oh that show.”

“What's the betting pool at now?”

Snapping his fingers, Jack pointed at the other man. “You had under ten minutes,” he said, waggling that finger. “So when Harry comes in exactly fourteen minutes and twenty-three seconds behind her, I don't want to hear any whining.”

“Fine, fine,” Ben said. “No whining.”

One thing that Harry had never noticed in all his years living in this house was just how much stucco decorated the ceiling of his bedroom. Cold, gray light came in through the window on his left, glinting off the mirror across from the foot of the bed. As it was, he really didn't want to get up.

Harry was stretched out on the mattress with his hands folded behind his head, his skin still glistening with sweat. “Well,” he said, eyebrows rising. “That's one way to start the day off right.”

Jena stood up, pulling a red t-shirt over herself. Her head popped through the neck hole, and she blinked. “Best morning workout ever…” she said, turning away from him. “Much better than that lousy treadmill.”

She made her way over to the window where tiny flurries of snow swirled about behind the glass. The sight of this woman in a pair of black shorts and an old t-shirt was hotter than any underwear ad he'd ever seen.

Harry bit his lip, shutting his eyes tight. He turned his head so that his cheek was pressed to the pillow. “You know, things have been pretty slow lately,” he mumbled. “I wonder if I should just take the day off.”

Jena snorted.

He sat up.

Hunching over, Harry covered his face with one hand. The sweat on his brow left a prickling sensation. “I don't see why that's so funny,” he said. “There are a few things I need to take care of.”

When he looked up, she was standing by the window with arms folded, silhouetted by the daylight behind her. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that Anna and Jack might find out we spent the night together?”

Embarrassment made it hard to lie with a straight face. Harry had always been a very private person. Part of that might have been the result of years spent keeping Della away from his colleagues. His ex-wife had a tendency to make a scene at the very worst possible time.

Leaning against the wall, Jena glanced over to the alarm clock on his nightstand and frowned. “I need to get ready,” she said. “I'm meeting with the Senior Directors in less than three hours.”

“Doesn't sound like you have to rush.”

Jena moseyed over to the bed with her hands in her pockets, shaking her head ever so slowly. “Well…” she said with a shrug. “I wouldn't have to take a cab to the SlipGate terminal if you just went into work with me.”

“No, no; we can't do that,” he insisted. “We have to come in at least five minutes apart so the others don't find out we're sleeping together.”

Once again, she snorted.

As she made her way around the foot of the bed, Jena paused and stood so that he saw her in profile. “You know,” she said with playful exasperation in her voice. “You're lucky I'm the kind of woman who doesn't mind having a boyfriend with a bewildering need to cover up their new relationship.”

She left the room.

Harry felt his lips curl, his cheeks burning with chagrin. “I am lucky,” he said to himself. “And I know that you will never let me forget it no matter how many reminders I may need.”

A moment later, he heard the sound of the shower running in his bathroom. Now, that was a wonderful idea. “Want me to join you?” he shouted.

“No thanks!” she replied. “Intimate showers are for boyfriends who don't freak out about the possibility of someone finding out they had sex!”

That only intensified his embarrassment, but then what could he do? Harry liked Jack and Anna and all the others, but he wasn't about to start discussing the details of his personal life with a kid that he had mentored in the ways of law enforcement. And never mind Lenai! Just the thought of her watching him with a playful smirk while he admitted that Jena had spent the night…

“Oh Harry!” Jena's voice came through the wall. “I forgot to mention. Since you're now an official member of the team, I thought it was time to upgrade your accouterments. Check the nightstand drawer.”

He pulled it open to find a gauntlet with a long rectangular touchscreen and a small metal disk attached. The sight of it left him feeling a little off balance. He had never been one of those people who swooned over Leyrian technology.

Harry frowned as he studied the device. “A multi-tool?” he asked. “I don't know, Jen…I've had the same smart phone for years. Can't I just keep on using that?”

“Harry, I can put up with exactly one phobia in a lover,” she said. “So which is it? Technology or gossip?”

Mopping a hand over his face, Harry brushed sweaty hair back from his forehead. “Okay,” he said, blinking. “I'll accept the multi-tool. But I reserve the right to grumble about you whippersnappers and your gadgets.”

For a long moment, there was silence.

Then Jena replied with more than a touch of irritation in her voice. “Wow,” she said. “You know, I've never wanted you more than I do right now.”

He sank back down into the covers, pulling them up over his chest. It occurred to him that his original assessment was correct; there was just no good reason to get out of bed today. None at all.

He wanted to be a better partner – the kind that proclaimed his love from the rooftops – but there were factors that made that difficult. This was the first relationship he'd had since divorcing Della. Melissa and Claire had been his primary focus over the last four years. That and protecting his city from aliens.

He still wasn't entirely sure how his girls would react to the idea of a new woman in his life. Melissa seemed to be happy for him, but they seldom discussed it. And Claire? She was too wrapped up in the latest episode of Southampton to care all that much about her father's girlfriend. That alone left him feeling uncomfortable. His daughter was too young to be interested in teen soaps.

Much too young.

He'd been musing on the idea of asking Jena to join the three of them for dinner one night, but he wasn't sure how she would respond to that. From what little he knew about her, she had spent most of her life gallivanting from planet to planet, never settling down. Serious relationships were not her thing. Maybe it was better to keep this casual? Della had the girls for the next few days; that left him with plenty of free time.

Harry grabbed a pillow.

He pressed it to his face and let out a groan, pretending to smother himself. “Yeah, it's official,” he muttered. “I am not getting out of bed today.”

2

Double doors parted to reveal a room where black tiles stretched from wall to wall and two desks faced each other in front of a window that looked out on the stars. Each had a polished surface of Smartglass with keyboards sitting on pull-out trays.

Anna strode into her office in gray pants and a white long-sleeved top, keeping her head down. “So I was thinking we could review the open case files,” she said. “With any luck, we'll find something we can attack. Being proactive always looks good.”

In her mind's eye, she saw the silhouette of Jack standing out in the hallway with a cup of tea in hand. “Yeah, no problem,” he said, following her in. “But you don't have anything to worry about; Jena likes you.”

That may very well have been the case, but Anna wasn't quite sure what to make of this Jena Morane; the woman had a reputation for throwing the rulebook out the window whenever it suited her. True, Keepers were supposed to bend the rules in the service of the greater good – she herself had defied orders when she pursued Denario to Earth – but that didn't mean one should do so casually. She just didn't share the same comfortable relationship that Jack had cultivated with their new supervisor.

That, in and of itself, was a major source of frustration. Jack had latched on to Jena Morane because she represented a bastion of integrity in a world tainted by underhanded politics. For the hundredth time since her arrival on this station, Anna wished that she had been here to complete his training. What exactly had gone on over the last three years to make him so ready to distrust other Keepers? She knew of Breslan's betrayal, of course, and Slade was now under investigation. But she would like to believe those were isolated incidents.

As she approached her desk, she saw something that left a very queasy feeling in her belly. A single long-stem rose with dark red petals was resting on the metal keyboard, and there was no sign of a note.

Baring her teeth in a snarl, Anna felt her cheeks heat up. “No! No! No! When is that asshole going to learn that I am just not interested in him?”

Jack stood at his desk, setting the cup of tea down on its surface. “Daython?” he asked, keeping his back turned. “You mean to tell me the guy made yet another romantic overture?”

Anna winced so hard it hurt, then tossed her head about in disgust. “No! No! No!” she spat, grabbing the rose. “This is unacceptable! This time I'm going straight to his supervisor!”

Jack turned around.

He leaned against his desk with arms folded, scowling down at himself. “That, I'd like to see,” he murmured. “Seriously, An, three times is outright harassment. Something has to be done.”

“Something will be.”

The doors slid open to admit a frustrated Jena who strode into the room in beige pants and a loose blue top. “Morning, children,” she said. “Anna, I just got a call from Larani Tal. She wants to speak with you later this afternoon.”

Anna looked up to blink at her. “About what?” she asked, ashamed by the hostility in her voice. “I filed my report about the shuttle chase; no one got hurt, and we managed to capture the perpetrators.”

The other woman spun around to face her with arms folded, shaking her head. “I'm not sure…” Jena paused when she saw the rose, a look of confusion passing over her face. “If you're trying to sweet talk me, Lenai, I already have a partner.”

Anna thrust a hand out, pointing with the rose.

The petals nearly hit Jena's nose, and she jumped back on instinct. “This…” Anna hissed. “This is the latest attempt by a persistent young man who simply doesn't know when to quit.”

Jena turned to Jack.

“No, not him!”

Slapping a palm against his forehead, Jack groaned. “Really?” he shouted, in disbelief. “You think I would do something like that? No, no, no. If I were going to ask her out, it would require a Bloody Mary and three Xanax.”

Jena backed away with hands raised defensively. “Okay,” she said, nodding once. “Just speak to Larani; I'm sure it's nothing, and if you need help dealing with…whoever sent that…let me know.”

She left the room.

Chewing on his lip, Jack watched her with deep blue eyes. “Extraordinary boss,” he said, shaking his head. “Really good at handling the subtle nuances of all those delicate interpersonal conflicts.”

Anna lifted the rose up in front of her face, hissing with seething rage. “Enough is enough!” She spun around and flung the rose away. “I'll go to his supervisors. I'll file a harassment complaint.”

The rage died to be replaced with dismay when she realized that the only evidence she had in support of her claim was a single crumpled rose. True, Daython had asked her out twice, but that in and of itself was not harassment in light of their history on Alios. He could claim he had nothing to do with this latest gesture.

Anna sat on the edge of her desk.

Crossing her arms, she huddled in on herself and shook her head. “So what am I gonna do?” she asked in a breathy whisper. “I have absolutely no proof that Daython was the one who put that rose on my desk.”

Jack stood there with his hands in his pockets, staring off into space. “Maybe you do.” He turned back to the desk, running his fingers along the Smartglass. “This room is monitored.”

A hologram shimmered into existence, depicting their office with the lights off. The doors slid open to leave a square of light on the tiled floor before a small mail-delivery bot rolled in on two wheels.

Roughly three feet tall with a cylindrical body, the thing reminded her of one of the trash receptacles that she had seen on busy city sidewalks. Bots were rarely designed to look like humans, but it wasn't functionality that motivated that decision. She suspected that people just weren't comfortable with the idea of simulated intelligence that looked like a real person.

The bot rolled over to her desk and settled to a stop. Its lower compartment opened to reveal a long arm that held the rose delicately in a metal claw. There was no note, of course. She wasn't sure what this hologram proved.

Anna looked up to study it with lips pursed, deep creases slowly forming in her brow. “So…a bot delivered the rose?” she asked. “How exactly does that prove it came from Daython?”

“Check the mail room logs.”

That could work. Correspondence was almost always done through digital mail – her people had stopped using paper centuries ago – but every now and then, someone had to deliver a physical object. Mail bots handled that task. Each item was pared with a chip that identified its sender and its destination. “Okay,” she said. “I guess my next stop is the mail room.”

“Have fun,” Jack said. “I'll just be here…saving the galaxy.”

Anna stuck her tongue out.

Larani Tal's office was an elegant room with black floor tiles and two pillars that rose to the ceiling. Beyond that, a simple desk sat in front of a window that looked out on the vastness of space.

Anna strode into the room with fists clenched, shaking her head in disgust. I don't know what this is about, she thought to herself. But if they're going to chew me out for not firing on that man, I'll…

She would what? Deep down inside, she knew that she should have pulled the trigger – she had been beating herself up about it for days – but every time she imagined herself sitting in the cockpit of that shuttle, she realized that she just couldn't do it. Anna Lenai could not take a life.

Larani Tal stepped out from behind a pillar.

The woman was tall and slim in a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt under a black vest. Her dark-skinned face was framed by long black hair that hung loose to her shoulders. “Anna,” she said. “Good. I wanted to speak with you.”

Anna pursed her lips as she held the woman's gaze, blinking slowly. “Ma'am?” she said in guarded tones. “Is something wrong? I thought I detailed the events of the shuttle chase in my report.”

Larani waved it away.

She turned around, picking up one of the tablets she had left on her desk. “Nothing major,” she said. “I wanted to discuss the anomalous sensor readings you picked up from Ganymede.”

Oh… that.

Licking her lips, Anna let her head hang. “I was wondering about that,” she muttered under her breath. “To be honest with you, ma'am, I was under the impression that we had no other bases in this system.”

Larani turned around to lean against the desk with her legs crossed at the ankle, the tablet held up in front of her face. “Until last night, I thought the same thing,” she replied. “But I decided to have a little chat with Slade.”

That left Anna feeling more than a little uneasy. The head of the Justice Keepers – until he was formally charged, he would maintain his rank and title – was currently under suspicion for his support of a known traitor.

Anxiety flared in her chest when she imagined Jena's conflict with Cal Breslan. She had read the reports; the man had been found dead in a hotel room with his neck snapped and Jena sitting calmly at the table. Since the day she had arrived on this station, Anna had watched her supervisor for some sign that Breslan's death weighed heavily on her conscience. She had seen nothing of the sort.

That troubled her.

Slade's near unilateral support for a known traitor had seen him removed from active duty while the senior directors investigated his involvement with Breslan. That a Justice Keeper could knowingly aide a terrorist…

Anna lifted her chin to study the other woman, then narrowed her eyes to slits. “If you'll pardon my frankness, ma'am,” she began. “It bothers me that we've started placing military installations in this system without telling Earth's governments.”

Larani offered a small smile before nodding her agreement. “No more than it does me, Agent Lenai,” she said. “According to Slade, the Ganymede station is a long-range listening post designed to detect ships at high warp before they enter the system.”

Anna turned away from the woman.

She marched across the room with her arms crossed, trying to put the pieces together. “That makes no sense,” she said, stopping in front of the wall. “The space stations we have in orbit of this planet would be able to detect an approaching ship just as well as a base in the outer system.”

“Slade claims the Ganymede Station was built shortly after first contact with Earth. At the time, we had no permanent outposts in this region of space. A base was necessary to warn our construction crews of any potential threat from hostile fleets.”

“And we hid it from Earth because?”

In her mind's eye, Anna saw the silhouette of Larani Tal standing by the desk with the tablet in hand. “Relations with Earth were fragile then,” the other woman explained. “We did not want to intimidate them.”

Closing her eyes, Anna breathed deeply through her nose. “That's brilliant,” she said. “So instead of openly building trust, we decide to plant our flag on someone else's property.”

“Ganymede can hardly be called Earth property.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Anna felt a lock of red hair fall over her face. “Article Thirty-Five of the Leyrian Accord,” she said, eyebrows rising. “The uninhabited worlds of any inhabited star system shall be designated local territory.”

Larani closed her eyes, turning her face up to the ceiling. “I understand your anger, Agent Lenai,” she replied. “I even share it. Regardless, now that you know, I must order you to never divulge this information to anyone. Especially Agent Hunter.”

Well, that made some amount of sense. Jack was known for his distrust of authority and his tendency to go his own way whenever it suited him; Larani probably thought he would run straight to the Canadian government the instant he got a whiff of something out of whack.

Of course, that left her in the undesirable position of having to choose between her friendship and her duty. Not an easy thing for Anna Lenai. “So,” she muttered, whirling around to face the other woman. “You want me to participate in a cover-up.”

“I want you to trust your conscience,” Larani replied. “A Keeper must be willing to disobey orders in the service of justice, but unlike your friend Jack, you are not prone to leaping to the right every time someone in a position of authority says 'go left.'

“Consider what would be best for the fragile relationship between Earth and Leyria. These people need us, Anna. They've come close to expelling us once before. Provoking them into doing so again will only leave them vulnerable to the hostile powers in this region of space. Antaur would love to get its hands on Earth.”

Anna hesitated.

What the other woman said made sense, but she couldn't escape the profound sense of revulsion when she considered the prospect of lying to her friends. And to her superior officers. Did Jena know about this?

Anna was about to speak when Larani offered a pleasant smile that left her feeling off balance. “Follow your conscience,” she said. “That is always your first priority. But consider wisely the consequences of your actions.”

“I fail to see the point of this.”

Grecken Slade sat in a chair with his back to a gray wall, his hands folded on the table in front of him. The man wore a blue coat with gold embroidery, and his black hair was left to hang loose, framing a face with tilted eyes and high cheekbones. “I've answered these questions many times.”

Jena looked up at him, squinting to make her point. “You're going to answer this one again,” she said, nodding curtly. “No more dancing around. Tell me everything you know about Cal Breslan's dossier.”

Slade threw his head back, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. “Cal Breslan was born and raised on Petross Station,” he said. “He bonded a symbiont at the age of seventeen and moved to Leyria to commence his training.”

“Were you there when he received his symbiont?” Jena asked. “Did you know any of his teachers?”

Slade fixed his gaze upon her, and for a moment, she honestly thought the force of that stare might tear strips of skin off her body. “No,” he said in a voice like silk. “I did not meet Breslan until many years later.”

The other senior directors looked unimpressed.

On her left, Larani Tal sat with her back to the window, anxiously scanning the contents of a tablet. The woman's dark hair was a mess, flyaway strands falling over her otherwise lovely face.

Glin Karon was on her right, sitting still with his hands in his lap. A short, compact man in a high-collared shirt, he watched Slade with a wary expression, sweat glistening on his face.

And then there was Dray Adarus.

The man had come here from Leyria for the specific purpose of taking part in these hearings. His normal position was that of a program director for the many academies that trained young Keepers, and he was quite eager to find someone – anyone – who recalled teaching Cal Breslan.

Adarus was a tall man with broad shoulders and long blonde hair that fell in waves to the nape of his neck. His face was handsome enough. Well…in her estimation, it was a little too handsome. She had never cared for statuesque men.

Jena leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, watching Slade like a hawk. “So you don't know any of his instructors?” she asked, raising a thin eyebrow. “You can't point us to anyone that could verify our records?”

“How many times must we go over this, Director Morane?” Slade asked. “I did not know Cal Breslan until he was many years out of the academy.”

Glin Karon lifted his chin to appraise the other man. “It seems to me that this is a problem,” he said, turning in his chair. “You have placed several commendations in Cal Breslan's file. You are the head of the Justice Keepers.”

“Until you choose to depose me.”

Jena stood.

She paced a line behind the table with hands clasped behind her back, heaving out a frustrated sigh. “The problem, Slade,” she said, “is that it's been almost three months, and we can't find anyone who can verify the information in Breslan's file.”

The man had supposedly been a Keeper for more than twenty years, and with the shortened lifespan that came as a result of bonding a Nassai, it was not surprising that many of his instructors were dead. Those that were still alive had retired to one of the outer colonies and were now conveniently unavailable.

Slade remained as cold as a snowstorm, his face betraying not one particle of emotion. “And whose problem is that?” he asked. “If you cannot produce sufficient evidence to demonstrate that I was involved in this so-called conspiracy, then by law, you must drop all charges.”

Larani Tal fixed her gaze upon the man, blinking behind strands of long dark hair. “This is a serious matter,” she insisted. “Director Slade, would you at least describe what made you willing to trust Breslan?”

“He was competent.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“I have already been more-”

Clenching her teeth, Jena shut her eyes tight. “The man had a symbiont, Slade,” she said. “A symbiont that was willing to kill for him. Can you explain that?”

Slade regarded her with that flat expression, undaunted by the question. “No,” he said simply. “I was not there when Breslan bonded his symbiont. Though it occurs to me that you may have overlooked the simplest explanation.”

“And what's that?”

“Has it occurred to you, Director Morane…” he asked, slouching down in his chair with hands folded behind his head. The smug little grin on his face made her want to slap him. “That a lifetime of exposure to Breslan's mind might have corrupted the symbiont?”

It was a good tactic.

With one seemingly innocent question, Slade had cast doubt on the very foundation of their institution. She could already sense the rising tension. Nassai bonded humans and then – when their hosts died – they returned to their Collective, carrying the sum total of that person's knowledge and experience. Who could say how that would affect a race of interconnected beings?

Could humanity have slowly perverted the Nassai? The symbiont that she carried replied to that with a resounding “No.” Jena was hit with a wave of disgust so profound it almost made her nauseous. Silence lasted for nearly a minute before someone finally decided to speak.

Dray Adarus rose from his chair, standing tall and proud like the statue he was. “I think we should change course,” he said, glaring at Slade. “You gave Breslan a commendation for his work on Palisa.”

“We've been over this…”

Adarus scrubbed a hand over his face, massaging away what looked like a nasty headache. “And we'll go over it again,” he replied. “What specifically motivated you to decorate Breslan?”

Slade turned in his chair to face his accuser, the slight flush in his cheeks the only sign of his annoyance. “Cal Breslan quickly and efficiently brought down a cabal of arms dealers,” he said. “Thus promoting peace on the Fringe.”

Jena had a few things to say about that. Leyria took a very negative stance on the issue of skirmishes between its colony worlds and the nearby Antauran territories. As if political will alone would stop the violence. The Core Worlds could preach peace until their lungs exploded, and it wouldn't change the fact that many of those skirmishes were caused by Antaurans raiding Leyrian outposts.

So how did the homeworld respond to this? By restricting the flow of weapons to its outer colonies. Leyria's position was that the colonists should just come home. Never mind the fact that doing so would leave three habitable worlds and over a dozen space stations ripe for Antauran conquest. All that would do was create a new Fringe, one much closer to the homeworld.

“I think,” Slade began, “that we are done here.” He stood up, smoothing wrinkles from his coat and pants with a sigh. “Breslan hid is treachery well. His schemes to aid and abet the terrorist Leo were as unknown to me as they were to you.”

“Sit down,” Jena ordered.

Slade flowed around the table, all the way to the door. He paused there for a brief moment, keeping his back turned. “I think not, Director Morane,” he said. “I will return to my quarters, where I will remain under lock and key until you decide to do away with these insulting allegations.”

Double doors slid open, and Slade stepped through, spinning around to give them all one last withering glare. “Be swift in your decision,” he advised. “I have decided that I have no more patience for foolishness.”

And just like that, the meeting was over.

3

The arch-shaped opening in a red wall with gold trim along the baseboards looked in on a large room where round tables were spread out on the carpet, each one supporting a candle on a linen tablecloth. There were people – she could see a couple of young men making their way toward the slanted window – but the buzz of conversation was all but nonexistent. Everyone spoke in hushed tones.

Anna stood outside.

She wore green denim pants and a white t-shirt under a coat that fell all the way to her knees. Her hair was done up in a ponytail with bangs falling across her forehead. And she was ready to go to war.

As she stepped forward, a hologram appeared inside the archway. The transparent image of a man with dark skin and an even darker beard frowned at her. “Madam, this lounge area is for members of the diplomatic office,” he said. “I must request that you leave at once before-”

Anna tapped at her multi-tool.

The hologram flickered, winking out of existence before reappearing again half a moment later. “Justice Keeper status recognized,” he said. “Thank you for visiting, Agent Lenai. Please have a pleasant day.”

When he vanished, she made her way into the lounge and took a moment to scan her surroundings. A long, slanted window on the far wall looked out upon the skyline of New York City.

Tall buildings rose up toward the open sky, each one reflecting the wan sunlight of a winter afternoon. A few men in fancy Leyrian coats with high collars sat at one table on her left, and another group of people occupied a table to her left.

Anna closed her eyes and shook her head. You're playing right into his hands, she thought, striding into the room. His stupid little overtures are probably designed to make you come down here.

She found Daython sitting at a table in a black high-collared shirt, chewing his food as he stared into his plate. “Well, you have to give the place this much credit,” Anna said as she approached. “The weather is terrible compared to Alios, but the décor is just so much more posh.”

He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin, then looked up to blink at her. “Hello there, Anna,” he said. “I have to say I wasn't expecting you, but now that you're here, perhaps you could join me for a late lunch.”

Anna stood before him with arms crossed, frowning down at him. “You got me down here,” she said with a shrug. “So I'm gonna give you the benefit of assuming that the rose was code for 'Help! Come save me!'”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh no?”

“No.”

“I'm not in the mood to play games with you, Daython,” Anna said. “This is your one chance to avoid ending your career on a harassment charge.”

He was lounging in that chair with his hands on the armrests, a lopsided grin on his face. “So I take it someone sent you flowers?” he inquired. “And you naturally assumed they came from me?”

The smug, self-satisfied demeanor made her want to smack him hard enough to knock teeth from his mouth. Lashing out in anger would feel wonderful right about then, but she was a Keeper. She would do this right.

Anna shut her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose. “It came from New York City,” she said with a nod. “I made a trip down to the mail room and spent two very long hours going through the logs.”

She took the chair across from him.

Daython sat with his elbows on the armrests, his mouth hidden behind steepled fingers. “Is that so?” he asked, eyebrows rising. “And even if you happen to be correct, what makes you think they came from me?”

“I don't know anyone else in New York.”

Keeping her temper in check required enormous amounts of willpower. Anna had no patience for people who couldn't even manage to display basic human decency, and she was especially disgusted with men who would not take no for an answer. Daython's comments in her office on Alios implied that he intended to win her over. A mistake of galactic proportions.

From what she had read, Earth was the perfect place for a man like Daython. Far too many men here shared his affliction. Not all, of course, but many. Her world used to have a similar problem in regard to the way men treated women. Three years ago, she would have insisted that Leyrians had outgrown such behaviour. Now, she was slightly less firm in that assertion. Her people had made great strides – and most of the men on her world treated women with respect – but there were still some with sexist attitudes.

Of course, she had to admit there were some women on her world who had a hard time understanding the meaning of the word 'no.' Prestige had a way of making people think they could have anything they wanted. Leyrians had given up the use of money, but every now and then some inventor or software developer became a little too fond of the praise she received.

Daython lifted a glass of wine, pausing for a moment to inhale the bouquet before he took a sip. “And you honestly think that implicates me?” he asked. “Maybe you've got a secret admirer.”

Anna looked down at the floor, her eyebrows slowly climbing up her forehead. “I don't have any admirers,” she said. “Except for a young diplomat who just can't figure out that I am not interested.”

“The subtle art of negotiation.”

“Excuse me?”

Daython turned his head so that she saw him in profile, squinting into the distance. “Has it occurred to you,” he began, “that my entire career revolves around convincing people to change their minds?”

Leaning over the table with her arms folded, Anna glared at him. “So you think that applies to your personal life as well?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Why can't you just accept that a relationship with me is off the table?”

He stood.

Turning his back on her, he made his way over to the window with the wine glass in hand. No doubt he expected her to join him, and that was probably some technique he intended to use to gain her compliance. Anna didn't spend a lot of time reading through psychological journals, but it wouldn't surprise her to learn that making someone come to you subtly reinforced the idea that he should work to earn your approval. Seth was angry, and rightly so. The Nassai despised manipulation.

Despite the obvious ploy, she found herself playing along, shuffling over to the window so she could look out on the city of Manhattan. She drew the line at speaking, however. Daython could make the first move.

He stood there for a moment, taking a sip of his wine before he finally decided to acknowledge her. “I'm a man who's used to getting what he wants,” he said. “And I must admit that I want you.”