The Plot Thickens (Empire's Legacy)

The comm crackled before either Gus or Amy could respond.

“Captain, the hopper’s aboard the Sophia and safely stowed,” Taz said. “If you don’t need me for anything I’ll head back over.”

“Roger that. See you back on the Sophia.” Gus glanced from Amy to Ramina. “If you want to come back, we should kit up in actual biohazard gear. Wouldn’t hurt to have a team along to deal with body disposal.”

“That’s a substantial project, to say nothing of the financial outlay,” Ramina pointed out.

“I know some people,” Amy said. “I can call in some favors. The Waratah will still be mine. Ours. Commission won’t hear anything about it beyond whatever they might already know. And I’ll put some feelers out on the virus while I’m at it.”

Gus switched on his inter-ship comm. “Kate, how’s it looking over there?”

“There’s a category three solar wind storm coming in off Albor,” Kate said, her voice distorted by static. “It’s picking up a lot of spatial debris in its path, and at the rate it’s going, it’s probably going to hit category four by the time it reaches us. If the chute is still extended when it hits, it’s likely to snap, so you’d better make a decision pretty quick as to whether you’re coming home or you’re staying over there until the storm passes, because we need to retract the chute ASAP.”

“Shit,” Gus said. “We’re on our way back now.” He motioned to Amy and de Sara and headed out of the lab at an ungainly job. “Be prepared to retract the chute as soon as we’re back on board the Sophia. As soon as it’s secure, be ready to flash. I don’t want the Sophia anywhere near that storm when she hits.” He killed the comm and muttered, “We don’t have the credits for repairs.”

The ride back to the Sophia was bumpy; turbulence was riding strong in advance of the storm. As soon as their boots touched down in the access port and the ship pressurized around them, Gus’s helmet was off and he had his finger on the comm on the bulkhead.

“Status, Kate.”

“Benji and Taz are pulling the chute in now,” she said. “It’ll be locked in six, Captain.”

“How long until the storm hits?”

She hesitated. “Seven minutes.”

“Dammit.” Gus closed his eyes and rubbed his jaw. “Kate. Three minutes out, start moving the Sophia away from the leading edge of the storm. Keep retracting the chute as you go. As soon as it’s locked, flash. I’m not liking our odds. Give me as much time as you can.”

“Got it, Cap.”

Gus released the comm button and turned to Amy. “The Waratah will be fine in the meantime?”

Amy shrugged as she stepped out of her suit. “There’s no reason why she shouldn’t be. She’s been sitting in this region of space for two hundred years and has probably been battered by innumerable storms. The asteroid field makes this a particularly nasty spot, but aside from some bumps and bruises on her hull, the Waratah seems to have born up well enough.”

The Sophia lurched, knocking Amy against the lockers as she tried to hang her suit and sending de Sara and Gus crashing into the access hatch.

“The Sophia, on the other hand, I’d worry about,” Amy said, picking herself up out of the lockers and unhooking her helmet from her foot. “What was that?”

“Kate?”

“Asteroid, sir. Caught us under the port side. Sorry. We’re fine now.”

“Kate…”

There was a spark from the comm panel and then Kate’s voice emanated from the speaker, echoing around the room. “All hands, this is your pilot speaking. You may want to hold on to something.”

The ship began to shake. Amy watched, unnerved, as a bolt in one of the deck plates slowly began to work loose. Before it could fly free, Gus’s boot came down on it, trapping it in place. And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the shaking stopped.

Amy let go of the lockers and looked down at her hands. Her knuckles were white. “Do you often travel that way?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Emergency travel only,” Gus said. “I’m going to my bridge.”

Kate started apologizing the moment Gus’s head appeared at the top of the ladder and continued as he hoisted himself up into the bridge.

“Kate,” he said finally, “my ship is still flying, isn’t she?”

“Um. Yes.”

“We’re all still alive.”

“…yes.”

“Nothing on my ship has broken? There aren’t any giant holes I should know about?”

She looked at him and then stared at the deck. “There might be a small hole in the chute,” she said in a small voice. “But I think it’s only a small one,” she continued in a rush. “It was only a small piece of rock. It broke off the asteroid that impacted the hull and then flew off towards the chute and it was still retracting and there wasn’t anything Benji or Taz or I could do and it went straight through the side.” She stopped and gazed at Gus anxiously.

Gus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure it’s fixable,” he said reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. Taz and Benji will come up with…something.”

The flight console started to beep at the same time as a red light began to flash. Kate spun around and slid back into her seat, fingers flying over the panel.

“What’s that?” Gus asked.

“Proximity detector,” Kate said.

Gus rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know that, Kate.”

“What are we close to?” Amy asked, poking her head up onto the bridge.

“Not sure,” Kate replied, frowning at her sensors. “I’m getting a message from a Commissioner ship telling us to come to a stop.” She looked up at Gus. “What do you want me to do?”

He shrugged. “We’re not carrying anyone or anything illegal and for the moment it’s in our best interests to cooperate with the Commission. All stop. Send a message asking what they want.”

Amy pulled herself up onto the bridge and came up behind Gus. “What do you think it is?” she asked quietly.

“No idea,” he answered. “Might be a routine inspection. There’s a lot of smugglers operating in this area.”

“Answer back, Captain,” Kate said.

“Put it on the vidscreen.”

Amy moved surreptitiously out of range of the vidscreen, where she could see but not be seen. Gus noticed but said nothing as the grainy image came up.

“This is Commander Mark Swann of the Commissioner ship Imperia. Thank you for halting your vessel.”

“Mark,” Gus said in surprise. “Excuse me—Commander Swann. I see you’ve come up in the world.”

The ginger man on the vidscreen smiled grimly. “We all make our own way, Gus. Can I ask what your business is in this sector?”

“Salvage,” Gus said promptly. “Following the winds. Heard rumor of pickings out near Delnai, thought we’d take a look.”

“Can’t let you do that, old friend.”

“Why not?”

“Everything from here outwards along the galactic edge is under quarantine—all of the Resh, Shin, and Tav sectors. It’s a nasty business.”

Gus glanced at Amy. “Quarantine? For what?”

Swann ran a hand through his short hair. “There’s some nasty, nasty thing that’s hit the outliers, Gus. It’s ugly. No one knows what it is or where it’s come from—it appeared out of nowhere and hit them all at once. And people are dropping like flies.”

“What planets, Mark?” Gus asked quietly. “What planets, specifically?”

“I’m sorry,” Amy said before Swann could answer, stepping into view. “What can you tell us about the outbreak? What are the symptoms of the disease?”

Swann’s eyes flicked from Gus to Amy. “Who the hell are you?”

“Let’s just call me a specialist and leave it at that,” she replied. “Answer the question, please.”

Looking dubious, he said, “No one knows. It’s flu; it’s not flu, but something worse. People are fine and then there’s blood coming out their eyes and ears. And then they die. Frankly, I don’t really know. I’m a commander, not a doctor. I only know what I’ve heard—and frankly, it sounds like something made up to me.”

Amy turned away from the screen and stepped close to Gus. “It’s Warnao fever,” she murmured, her breath hot against his ear. “Although how they’ve duplicated it and spread it across the outliers so quickly, and for what purpose, is beyond me. Gus?”

She took a step back and discovered that Gus’s face had gone white. He bripped the back of Kate’s chair tightly with both hands and stared at the vidscreen with haunted eyes.

“Mark,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, Gus,” Swann said. “It’s spread to Elderia as well.”

Gus’s knees buckled. Amy grabbed at his elbow as he fell, narrowly missing cracking his head on Kate’s console; she sat him on the deck before turning to face Commander Swann.

“What’s on Elderia?” she demanded.

“If Gus want to tell you, that’s his business,” Swann said. “He’s an old friend. I’ve no intention to reveal his secrets—I’m doing him a favor saying as much as I have. As for your ship—make sure you don’t pass the quarantine line, or you may find you’ll never get back across it. Understood?”

“Yeah,” Amy said. “Got it. Invisible line in space. Cross it and you’re doomed. Ten-four.” She made an mock salute and looked at Kate. “You know where it is?”

“They sent the coordinates,” Kate said. “The entirety of the Resh, Shin, and Tav sectors are cut off.” She turned teary eyes to Amy. “The outliers—there’s no way to reach them at all.”

Amy’s lips thinned. “We got the message, Commander. Was there anything else?”

“That’s it,” Swann said. “Tell Gus I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Imperia out.”

The vidscreen switched off and Amy knelt next to Gus. She laid a hand on his cheek and brushed hair off his forehead.

“Gus?” she said gently. “Gus, are you okay? What’s on Elderia?”

His eyes stricken, he said, “My daughter. My daughter is on Elderia.”

Amy sat back. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Her research hadn’t produced that nugget of information.

“I’m calling Taz up here,” Kate said, her finger on the comm button.

“What can he do?” Amy asked. “Surely de Sara would be of more help. He’s clearly distressed.”

“Taz has known him longer. Ramina…” Kate hesitated. “Taz will know what to do.”

It wasn’t long before Taz pulled himself up the ladder and onto the bridge, his face unreadable. “Hear we’ve got a bit of a situation,” he said. He crouched down beside Gus. “Gus. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s still on Elderia,” Gus said dully. “You know that. Sophia sent her there.”

Taz was quiet, and Amy wished she knew what was going on inside his head, like she had when they were kids. After several minutes of silence, she finally said,

“Who’s Sophia?”

Taz rubbed his hand over his head. “Sophia was Gus’s wife.” He looked down at Gus and added, “She’s been dead for five years. It’s…she’s the ship’s namesake.”

Gus took a deep breath. “If we’re going to have this conversation, Taz shouldn’t have to be the one doing the talking.”

“You’ve had a shock,” Taz said. “I don’t know all of it, but I know enough that I can tell them, if you’d rather have Ramina—”

“I don’t want Ramina poking at me!” Gus’s jaw worked and he looked away.

“Thirteen years ago,” he said carefully, “I met a woman named Sophia Davis. Blonde. Blue eyes. Most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Real obsession with gardening. Grew up on one of the central planets. Ran for the Commissionate Elite Squad until she broke her ankle and ended up at the Central Commissionate Hospital, which was where I first met her. I was a second-year cadet at the time.” He glanced at Taz. “Taz and I had an accident and I got sent to the hospital.” He closed his eyes. “We were married two years later. She hated living on the ship—she was a botanist and always said there wasn’t enough dirt in space.” His laugh caught in his throat and his fingers lifted absently to the chain hanging around his neck. “Three years after we were married, Soph got pregnant and had to go dirtside. Then, sometime after Molly was born, I was part of a division called dirtside to deal with a faction that had been causing trouble.” He swallowed. “Imagine my surprise when I discovered my wife among them. My loyalty was in question—surely I’d known about my wife’s activities? Everyone knew how close we were.” A shadows crossed his face, and he said, “I’d had no idea. I’d had no idea she was troubled by the activities of the Commission. I was a soldier first and an engineer second—I followed orders and only thought about them occasionally, and in any case I was a computer specialist. I never dealt with the greater political workings of the Commission. Sophia had been watching them for a long time, since her days running for the University. And they knew it. And they wouldn’t believe me when I told them I didn’t know.”

Amy looked down at him. His eyes were wet. She glanced at Taz, whose mouth was set in a grim line, and back at Gus, a bad feeling about what he was going to say next.

“‘It has to be done, son,’” Gus said, his tone mocking. “That’s what Commandant Marshall told me. ‘It has to be done. Convince me of your loyalty.’” His voice broke. “‘Convince me.’ He put a pistol in my hand and I shot my wife through the heart.”

Amy’s hand went to her mouth. Taz gently squeezed her shoulder. She found his fingers and gripped them. “How could you—”

“She told me,” Gus said dully. “She said it would be all right. And there was Molly. If I hadn’t—” His body convulsed briefly and then stilled. “If I hadn’t they would have shot me too. And Molly would have had no one.”

“So why is Molly on Elderia?” Kate asked. “I mean, I understand you can’t have a child on a salvage ship, but if you left the Commission after—” She stopped, biting her lip, and then continued, “Surely you could have done something dirtside so your daughter could have lived with you?”

A short, humourless laugh escaped from between Gus’s lips. “I would have, but Sophia had been afraid for her safety and pre-empted me.”

“The Commandant sent me to escort Morgan to where Sophia had been living during the pregnancy,” Taz said. “It was known she’d had the child, but not what had happened to it. I was to observe Morgan’s behaviour and report back.” The corner of his mouth tipped up in a grim smile. “I was a poor choice of watchdog. I was devoted to the Commission, had been since Lt Brenner—”

Amy twitched and flicked her eyes up to Taz’s face briefly as he continued speaking before controlling her reaction and returning her attention to Gus.

“—got me off Meridani, but watching my best friend forced to shoot his wife shook me. And Morgan and I’d been best friends since we were cadets. I wasn’t about to report back on his movements unless he’d proven to be as deeply sunk in the political opposition as Sophia had been.”

“Which I wasn’t,” Gus said. “We went through Soph’s house, found nothing. And Molly wasn’t there. Took a long time to convince the neighbour that I wasn’t just trying to get information, that I was her father, but eventually she told me that Sophia’d been worried, that she’d sensed something was coming. She’d sent Molly to Elderia to live with her sister, Ellen. And that pretty much scuttled any chance I had of seeing my daughter.”

“I don’t understand,” Kate said. “Why not just go and get her? Didn’t you leave the Commission?”

“Leave the Commission directly after my wife was discovered a sympathiser with opposition forces and with my own loyalty in question? Leave directly after being required to shoot my wife in order to prove that loyalty?” Gus laughed bitterly. “Leaving would have suggested to the Commission everything I had just desperately tried to prove otherwise. I couldn’t leave. They would have hunted me down and put a shot through my head.”

“How could you stay?” Kate demanded. “After what they did?”

“Don’t ask me that,” Gus said. He looked old. “I stayed on for two more years, completed my ten years of service, and then I resigned. But I let Molly stay on Elderia with her aunt. It’s just that, outside of service with the Commission, the best way to earn a living is salvage, and I can’t have a kid in space. There’s not much call for computer specialists or engineers dirtside, especially not on the outliers, and on the inner planets costs are so high that it would have been almost impossible.” A look of pain fleeted across his face. “I’ve always spent time with her. I take her things I find on salvage trips. It’s not as much time as I’d like, but you never think—” He was silent for a moment, and then pushed himself to his feet. “I’m not leaving her on that planet to die. I may not be a great father, but Molly is my world. She is my daughter. She’s mine and Sophia’s, and I’ll be going to get her.” He looked at the three of them. “You’re welcome to leave if you’re not keen on breaking the Commission’s quarantine, but I’ll be damned if I let the Commission take the rest of my family from me.”

There was silence on the bridge for a moment. Then Taz said,

“Do you have a plan, or were you planning on sailing through the quarantine line with a smile and a wave and no resistance?”

Gus shrugged. “I’ll think of something.”

Amy, who had been biting the tip of her thumb, lifted her eyes to Gus’s face. “Where do you plan on taking Molly once you get her off Elderia? Are you planning on just turning a blind eye to the rest of the people who are dying? What if Molly is a carrier? Are you willing to risk infecting planets outside the quarantine?” In response to Gus’s ugly look, she said, “Someone has to ask. I can help you, if you’ll let me. But you have to trust me and I know that’ll be hard because you’ve only known me a short time, but I can help.”

Gus studied Amy’s face. “What is it you suggest?” he asked at last.

She hesitated. “I have a contact on Idylla. He owes me some favors. It would be a safe place for Molly to stay once you get her off Elderia, assuming he agrees and assuming you can accomplish it, and he has the resources to sort out an expedition back out to the Waratah that’s properly fitted out for biohazards. Discreetly,” she added. “I don’t think anyone wants to risk the Commission finding ground zero of the disease at the moment. He may also be able to help you get Molly back.”

Gus crossed his arms. “No one just has that kind of contact.”

Amy met his eyes. “I do. You can either trust me or you can leave it.”

The struggle was clear on Gus’s face. Finally he said, “What do you want in return?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Nothing,” she said. “Well, possibly I might ask you to give me a lift, but other than that I’m not really in the business of holding favors over people’s heads.” She saw his look and shrugged. “Cam’s different. Anyway, if Cam wants something from you then that’s his business and you’ll have to sort it out with him, but since I’m the one asking he shouldn’t bother you.” She smiled suddenly. “With any luck he’ll be so pleased to see me that he’ll agree to help before he realizes what he’s agreed to.”

Kate swiveled her chair. “Should I lay in a course for Idylla’s spaceport, then?”

Amy moved to the flight console and bent over Kate’s shoulder. “Put in at C22,” she said, and then with a barely imperceptible pause added, “It’s Cam’s personal docking port.”

“Won’t he mind us using it?” Kate’s brow crinkled. “I mean, what if he’s already got a ship in port?”

“Cam hates space, so it’s not likely,” Amy said, tapping a docking sequence into Kate’s console. “Send that ahead—it’ll get you permission to use the docking port. If there are any problems let me know.” She turned and frowned at Gus. “Probably best if just you and I go down. You got anything more summery in your wardrobe?”

Gus’s eyebrows shot up. “Come again?”

“You’ll look like a mercenary on Idylla,” Amy said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but security keeps an eye out for those kinds of people—”

“‘Those kinds of people’?”

“—and I think it’s best if we can scoot by as undetected as possible.” She sighed. “But as long as you remember to leave all of your weapons behind everything will be fine.”

 

Gus sneezed as soon as he stepped out of the terminal into the Idyllan sunshine. Amy stopped ahead of him and let the crowds swarm past her on their way to the tram terminal. Hearing him sneeze again, she glanced back, a smile on her face.

“Allergies?”

He batted a low-hanging fern out of his way and strode forward. “I haven’t been dirtside in years except to see Molly. And Elderia isn’t exactly a conducive environment for enthusiastic plant growth.”

“Idylla is known for its flowers,” Amy said, scanning the timetable of tram departures on the wall. “People come from all over to see them.”

Gus looked around dubiously. “What’s so special about them?”

Amy snapped a spiky-petaled blossom off a plant and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t remember any more,” she replied. “We had to take botany for years, but I can’t say I remember any of it.”

A tram whirred to a stop along the platform and Amy motioned to Gus to get aboard. The car was packed, the smell of warm bodies mingling with the scent of the flowers lining the platform. Amy flattened herself against one of the walls; Gus pressed against her, gripping an overhead handle with one hand.

“Is it always like this?” Gus asked, his breath hot against her ear.

“First tram out of the space-to-dirt terminal is always a crush,” Amy said. “Most people get off at Idylla City for transports to the coast or inland to the mountains, so it’ll thin out after the first stop.”

The tram shuddered as it shifted into motion. Gus stepped on Amy’s foot.

“Sorry,” he said. “So what’s our stop?”

“Off at Half Moon River and switch to the Star Line for about three stops, and then we walk the rest of the way.” She glanced up at his face. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t pick the names.”

“You’re pretty familiar with the route. You live on Idylla?”

Amy smiled. “Getting personal, Gus. Let’s not.”

As Amy had predicted, most of the bodies filtered off the tram at Idylla City, leaving enough empty seats for them to sit until they had to switch trams. It wasn’t until they were on the Star Line and almost to their stop that Amy happened to look up and notice the fall of Gus’s jacket over his hip.

“Gus, tell me you’re not carrying.” Her words, although urgent, were whispered so low that he almost didn’t hear them.

He turned, shifting his grip on the handle above his head from his left to his right hand. “So?”

Her lips thinned. “Dammit, Gus, the one thing I asked was that you not bring weapons.”

“What’s the big deal?” He raised his eyebrows. “Someone going to come along and toss me in prison?”

Amy ran a hand through her hair. “Uh, yeah. Gus, the reason Idylla is such a popular pleasure planet is because there are no weapons allowed dirtside unless you’re a member of the security force, and every member of the security force has their weapon personally coded so that they’re the only person who can use it. And there is an absolute zero tolerance policy for weapons offenders.” She met his eyes. “If you’re caught on Idylla with a weapon and you don’t have a license, yeah, you’ll go to prison. And I’m not talking a short stay while you arrange bail and a ride back into space. Idyllan law states that anyone carrying without a license goes away for life. No exceptions.”

Gus stared at her. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.” She took a deep breath and glanced down the car at the other passengers. “So here’s what we’re going to do. When the tram comes to a stop, I need you to fall against me. When you do that, pass me the pistol.”

“Look, I don’t need you to get arrested just because—”

She fixed him with an intent look. “Gus. Trust that I know what I’m doing, and shut up and do it.”

He shrugged, and as they approached the Crescent Village stop he shifted his weight, falling against Amy as the tram came to a halt. She slipped the pistol from his hip, checked the safety, and swiftly tucked it into the belt of her sundress, beneath her jacket.

“This would have been much easier if you’d just listened to me,” she muttered as they stepped off the tram. She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the exit. “Why do you always assume you’re right?”

“Why do you always assume you’re right?” Gus demanded. “Ever since I met you you’ve acted like you know everything. As a personality trait I have to tell you that really wears on a person after awhile.”

Amy strode out of the station and headed up the hill. “I hired you to help  me with a job, Gus. On a subject upon which I am the undisputed expert! So I’m sorry, but yes, I do know everything because for god’s sake, that is the entire context of our relationship to date!”

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am, but if we could speak with you for a moment?”

“What?” Amy and Gus both snapped, and Amy realized that at some point they’d stopped in the middle of the road partway up the hill. Two members of the security force, their weapons slung across their backs, stood downhill. They were both young and looked uncomfortable at having intruded on what they clearly thought was a lovers’ spat.

“Lieutenant Taylor, ma’am,” said the taller one, “and this is Lieutenant Perez. I’m very sorry, ma’am, but it appears you’re carrying an illegal weapon. Is this correct?”

Amy ran her tongue across her teeth. “Hah. Yes. Well spotted.”

“Not hard to spot a pistol when a girl’s wearing a sundress,” muttered Lieutenant Perez. “Not a lot of places to hide it.”

Gus snickered. Amy shot him a look before returning her attention to the two men, a bland smile on her face.

“You are aware of Idylla’s laws?” Taylor said.

“Mmm. Yes.”

“Then you’re aware that carrying a weapon without a license is illegal,” he said. “You don’t have a license for your weapon, do you, ma’am?”

“Not on me, no.”

“Then I’ll need to take your weapon, ma’am, and I’m afraid that we’ll have to arrest you. Do you understand what that means?”

Gus glanced sideways at Amy, but to his surprise she didn’t seem at all concerned. Instead she looked almost amused, as though she was enjoying some private joke to which none of the men was privy.

“Oh yes,” she said. “I understand perfectly. I’m not sure you do, however.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Amy glanced behind her as Taylor removed the pistol from her waistband and carefully clasped her wrists together. “You really ought to ask for a person’s name before you try to arrest them,” she said genially. “Just so you know who it is that you’re arresting.”

“What good will that do?” Gus asked. He sighed and looked at Taylor and Perez. “This is ridiculous. Surely there are some exceptions to the rule.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Hah,” Amy said. “I think you’ll find you’re mistaken.”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” said Perez. “Who the hell are you, if you’re so keen for us to know?”

Amy smiled and beckoned him closer. When he’d stepped near enough, she leaned forward until her mouth was next to his ear and whispered, “Anneika Brenner.”

Perez took a step back. “Oh shit.”

Gus looked from Amy to the guards and back. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s been a mistake,” Perez said to Taylor. “Let her go.”

“But she doesn’t have a license—”

“I do, actually,” Amy said. “I’ve had one since I was, oh, 14? But I don’t carry it. It’s in my desk drawer at home.” Her smile grew fixed. “I don’t think I should really need it, do you?”

“No,” Perez said quickly. “Of course not. We’re awfully sorry, ma’am. We’ll just—be going now.” He nudged Taylor. “Give her back the pistol.”

Taylor looked bewildered. “But—”

“Just do it,” he hissed. “I’ll explain later. Jesus, hasn’t anyone told you about this family?”

His face a picture of confusion, Taylor returned the pistol to Amy, who smiled graciously. With many backwards glances, the two guards headed back down the hill towards the tram station, Perez whispering urgently as they went.

When they’d gone, Gus turned to look at Amy, who was busy tucking the pistol back into her belt. “You want to explain what the hell that was about?”

“Not really.” She settled her jacket over the pistol and picked up her bag from the road. “Shall we?”

“What did you tell him?” Gus asked, starting after her.

“Seriously, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You obviously knew something they didn’t. What made them change their minds?”

“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ don’t you understand, Gus?”

“I’m just trying to work out what it is about you that managed to turn the primary law of a planet entirely on its head.”

Amy stopped short and folded her arms. “Okay, look. I told them my name, all right?”

Gus frowned. “What’s so special about that?”

She hesitated, her eyes narrowing, and then said carefully, “I told them my real name. Which on this planet, as in many other Commission-controlled places, wields a certain amount of force because of who my family is.” With that she turned and started back up the hill. “And that is all I have to say on the subject.” She threw an arm out, one finger up to forestall Gus’s next words. “Before you say anything else, I really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

He was silent for a moment, and then said, “So who is this contact of yours, anyway?”

“Oh, let’s not talk about that either.”

“You seem to be rapidly eliminating all of the interesting topics of conversation.”

“Only if you find me interesting.”

“You might be the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met.”

Amy laughed. “Only because you don’t know me, Gus. Only because you don’t know me. I assure you if you knew very much about me at all, you’d run as fast as possible in the opposite direction.” A pause. “And I’m a slob.”

“Taz is the neatest person I’ve ever met.”

“Well, that’s apropos of nothing.” She glanced sideways at him, burying her discomfort. “Where’d that come from?”

Gus shrugged. “He likes you.”

She laughed again. “What about Kate?”

“What about her?”

Amy turned off the main road and onto a wide pebbled side road. “I thought they—you know.”

“Taz and Kate? That’s a brother–sister thing, Jones.”

“Huh. Clearly my radar’s way off, then.”

“Apparently so.” He sidestepped a boulder and frowned. “So how far exactly is this place we’re going?”

“Not much farther,” Amy replied. “I probably should have made a call ahead to let Cam know we were coming—he could have sent transport.” She tipped back her head and inhaled deeply. “It’s just nice to be dirtside.”

“When was the last time you were dirtside?”

“Just before I joined up with you, actually,” she said. “I was here visiting Cam.”

Gus eyed the back of her head as she walked up the path ahead of him. “So Cam is, what, a part-time lover?”

She whirled around. “Oh god, no,” she exclaimed, looking horrified. “Absolutely not. No.”

“Just a question, since you won’t tell me who he is.”

“Let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about something else.” The path forked and Amy turned right. “Tell me about Molly.”

“Molly?”

“Yes, your daughter. The one we’re going to all this trouble for.”

Gus’s expression softened. “What do you want to know?”

Amy shifted her bag to her other shoulder. “My experience with absent fathers tells me that they make a hell of a lot of excuses and buy a lot of presents to make up for never being around. Molly smart enough to realize that?”

“She’s a bright kid,” Gus replied. “She’s interested in rocks. Tells me all about them every time I visit. I try to bring her samples from the different worlds I visit.” He frowned at Amy. “That doesn’t mean I’m compensating.”

She shrugged. “Whatever your reasons, you’re still an absent father, Gus. You weren’t around when she was born, took her first step, said her first word. You weren’t around when she had to explain to her friends why her mother was dead or how she died.” Her voice shook. “You weren’t there when she had to lie.”

Gus gave her a strange look. “Are we still talking about me and Molly?”

Amy didn’t answer, just shook her head and stepped out of the trees into a clearing. A tall fence stood before them. On the other side of the fence stretched a large park, a long expanse of grass sloping upwards to a mansion set at the top of the hill. A gleaming skimmer hummed up the path to the left and stopped at the gates; after a moment the gates swung open and the skimmer headed up the hill towards the mansion.

“Oh good, Cam’s home,” Amy said, starting across the clearing.

“Do you mean that that is where we’re going?” Gus demanded. “We’re asking favors from some wealthy prick living in a mansion?”

“You haven’t met Cam yet,” Amy said calmly. “Kindly reserve judgments until you’ve met him. Then you’re perfectly welcome to call him a prick.”

They reached the gates and Amy rang the bell. A moment later an elderly man in blue and grey livery stepped out of the gatehouse and peered through the fence. As soon as he spotted Amy a smile brightened his face and he opened the gates.

“Miss Anneika!” he exclaimed as Amy and Gus stepped through onto the wide drive. “Why, we weren’t expecting you back to the Manor nearly so soon. Master Camryn will be so pleased to see you.”

Amy smiled. “I’m certain he will, Teddy. Teddy, this is Gus Moore, a colleague of mine. He’ll be staying at the Manor for a few days, so I would very much appreciate it if you could make sure to let him come and go as he pleases.”

“Of course, Miss Anneika,” Teddy said. “And will your father be coming home to visit any time soon?”

Her smile faded. “I’m afraid not. He is so busy, you know.”

“Of course.” Teddy bowed to Amy and Gus. “So good to see you again, Miss Anneika. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Moore.”

Impulsively, Amy leaned forward and gave Teddy a hug. “It’s really lovely to see you as well, Teddy.”

Teddy patted her gently on the back, his eyes sad. “I know, Miss Anneika. Now go on. Shall I call ahead and let Master Camryn know you’re coming?”

“Yes, do,” Amy said. She nodded to him and then started up the path, Gus trailing behind.

“You realize that you’ve changed the way you talk?” Gus asked after several minutes.

Amy glanced sideways at him. “How do you mean?”

“Your accent’s gotten stronger and your language’s gotten more formal.”

A small smile twisted the corner of Amy’s mouth. “Old habits die hard,” she said, looking up at the house looming ahead of them.

“So this manor,” Gus said. “It’s your childhood home, isn’t it?”

Amy bit her lip. “Yeah.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of money.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

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Find the rest of Empire’s Legacy here.