Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [77]
“Your recommendation?”
I shrug. “Hell, I don’t know. If anyone was monitoring this gate, they’d have come to see about us by now, wouldn’t they?”
“I would think so.”
“But there has to be a working gate somewhere, doesn’t there? This can’t be the only one.”
Vel appears thoughtful. “I surmise that they used these gates for transportation, and if that is the case, then it is only logical to deduce that the star-walkers to whom Dace referred required more than one access point.”
“Do you have any clue how we might find one?”
“Not without working tech, Sirantha.”
Dammit. I feared as much. If we had the capability to scan the area, he could pinpoint energy signatures, and we’d head that way. Unfortunately, our gizmos are fried for the time being. We’ll have to be clever.
“Let’s look,” I say with grim determination. “There has to be way back where we came from.”
“If so, we shall find it.” His calm, as ever, reassures me and makes it possible for me to take the first step of what might be a thousand-kilometer journey.
[Vid-mail from March, arrived on the four-day bounce]
Still haven’t found him. As I feared, they deleted all references to Svet in the records, which means they’re screening male students of appropriate age at all the training academies, a process slowed by the fact that many of these kids still have parents, but they’re buried in bureaucratic layers. It takes a ridiculously long time to get a straight answer about a student’s status, let alone whether he’s a candidate for genetic testing.
I’m telling myself to be patient, but it’s hard—and complicated by the fact that people remember me here. I’ve deflected four attacks now, but I didn’t kill any of the hitters. I turned them over to the Nicuan imperial guard. How do you convince people you’ve changed when they’re trying to stick a knife in your neck?
You’re not on the bounce anymore, so until I hear from you, I won’t know where you are, or what you’re doing. I sent this message to your barrister and asked her to forward. I assume you’ve left your comm code. I’m sorry we’re out of touch, but I’m including my new code here. I’ve taken an apartment in the capital while the officials deal with my request. So strange to find myself living here of all places. It doesn’t feel like home, but you are home.
Hon and Loras have moved on. I didn’t expect them to stick around, though. Hon’s got itchy feet, but now I’m very much alone in this. I know I chose this course, but it’s odd how alone you can feel, surrounded by people. This is a huge city by any standards, and there’s nobody here who gives a damn about me.
I’m afraid of forgetting how you feel in my arms; I’m afraid I dreamed you. I play that message you left before you jumped from Venice Minor sometimes, and I see how much you love me. But unless I’m watching your face, it gets hard to remember how we are together, if it can be as good as I remember.
Reply soon, Jax.
[message ends]
CHAPTER 25
The jungle sprawls around us like a carnivorous plant. Strange noises, chattering and growling, echo within the dense undergrowth, making me feel like predators lurk all around us. I glance back at Vel, braced for the worst.
“Do our weapons work?”
We should’ve checked that first thing. He digs into his pack and brings out a shockstick and laser pistol; neither will power up. I take the former and shove it through my belt, as we both know it’s better than nothing. Without the shock aspect, it can still be used as a baton or a club, and I’m trained in its use for close combat. He has his twin, curved blades, which require no juice at all, and he’s deadly with them. I’m sure we’ll be fine. Probably.
“Transport shorted out all our devices.”
“Can you fix them?”
He spreads his claws in an I don’t know gesture. “I would need a clean, dry place to disassemble them and assess the damage. If replacement parts or wiring is required to affect said repairs, then no, not unless we locate salvage.”
Glancing around at the impenetrable wall of greenery,