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Trade Circle: A Space Opera Adventure Series (The New Dawn Book 3) Page 17
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“It is an Occ,” Kavari said simply. She frowned, not knowing a more universal word for the device. “It will help her see.”
“Help her see what? Take it off!” Tray demanded.
The burning subsided and Amanda felt calm, like she’d been drugged. She stared at Tray, but rather than seeing him through the haze of drug-induced stupor, she saw him clearly—more clearly than she’d ever seen him before. She could see the pores on his skin, the sweat beading at his hairline, and the tiny lines of anger and fear around his eyes. He was ready to rip the device off her face, but he paused when she smiled at him.
“What’s it doing?” Tray asked, cradling her cheek.
“I can see . . . you have fuzz on your face. I can see all your eyelashes.” She touched his face and stared in wonder. She hadn’t even realized how blind she had been, and how all the fuzzy edges and corners of darkness made it so easy to fall back into the tunnels of Terrana. She knew Tray didn’t like being touched, but now she could see the way his pupils dilated rapidly as he suppressed his revulsion. Amanda patted his cheek and turned her head, examining the rest of the room. She could now see past the clear walls of the quarantine unit. There were people standing outside—Hawk with a weapon, and then two others she didn’t recognize. She smiled as she noticed the labels on the cabinets. “I can read. There’s a sign on the wall.”
“You couldn’t see it before?” Tray asked. Amanda shook her head. “How did you guide the Bobsled?”
“Corrective display on the Virp,” she shuddered. “Hawk helped.”
“Look at the letters on the sign,” Kavari said, placing one hand on the edge of the Occ. “Say ‘enhance.’”
“Enhance,” Amanda repeated. The letters suddenly jumped, filling the entire range of her vision, seeming to be only inches from her face. Startled, she looked away, only to find other things brought obscenely close—skin, eyes, walls, weapons. “No. No!” she shrieked, covering her eyes, turning her face away.
Kavari pressed her hand to Amanda’s forehead and touched the device again. “Restore.”
Amanda repeated the word, whimpering and clinging to Tray. She pressed her fingernails to the device, not sure whether to rip it off. She didn’t want to lose her sight, but she didn’t want it enhanced like that either.
“Take it off,” Tray decided for her. “We have other means to correct her vision. We wish to trade for the medicine for our sick.”
Kavari peeled off the device, then set it in Amanda’s open palm. “She can keep it. I have plenty more. Our hunters go through them like candy.”
“Thank you. It’s not necessary,” Tray said firmly.
“It is my gift to her,” Kavari said.
Amanda looked uncertainly at the device in her hand. Now that she knew she couldn’t see, she understood why it looked fuzzy around the edges. She waited until Tray and the doctor left her alone in the quarantine unit. Then she curled up beside Danny and placed the Occ above her brow. She wanted to see him more than anything.
Tray didn’t remember his mother falling sick, but he imagined the diagnosis had gone something like this. He pictured himself sitting next to his father in a waiting room that was too bright, watching the doctor’s lips move without having any understanding of the complex diagnosis. He wondered if his father had been a good man before that day—if he’d been less possessive and controlling. With his jaw clenched and his knees locked, Tray steeled himself for the worst possible diagnosis.
Hawk stood by his shoulder, watching the Drava ambassador and engineer poke at the medical equipment, never putting his pulse rifle away. Ambassador Kassa and Engineer Chief Komati, waited in the middle of the room, examining the supplies without touching them. The young woman in robes and the two soldiers from before had not come along. Their doctor, Doctor Kavari, seemed intrigued by the biosuit, and eerily familiar with the medical technology on board the ship. She had been completely distracted by Amanda, and Tray knew Kavari was judging him for Amanda’s deteriorated state, just as the Rocanese doctors had. The judgments they made would affect the help they rendered to Danny and Saskia.
After stripping out of the biosuit and folding it neatly, Dr. Kavari took Tray’s hand and led him to the center bed, encouraging him to sit, but Tray remained standing. She was a small woman, spotted with age and vitiligo. Her hair was thinning and her breath smelled. Tray pulled his hand free, trying not to appear too rude in doing so.
“We call it Havara Pytr. It means Jaws of the Ancestors,” Kavari explained. “Our dead poison the soil of Aquia, and the soil poisons us, reminding us that this is not our home world.”
Tray’s stomach twisted in knots, his eyes widening. He’d assured Danny that burying Corey in the ground was the right thing to do. Barely able to contain his guilt and grief, Tray stumbled backward, his hand flailing behind him, searching for support. He wished he’d sat when the doctor had told him to. Hawk caught him by the shoulder, looking sympathetic even though the language barrier prevented him from understanding the diagnosis.
“We lost a friend last week,” Tray said. “We had no choice but to leave her body behind.”
Kavari furrowed her brow, then rubbed her hands together. “The poison does not come so quickly,” she said dismissively. “They have touched the ruins of the old city. By Chanti mythology, the dead seek vengeance for the destruction of the Fox Run Dome. There are warnings all around the perimeter.”
Komati, the engineer, chuckled, but Ambassador Kassa glared at him and he quieted. Irritated by the apparent inside joke, Tray pushed away from Hawk, forcing himself to stand on his own. “Can you cure it?”
“The medicine is rare and costly,” Kavari said evenly. “I must speak to Ambassador Kassa.”
Kavari exchanged a look with Kassa, and Tray recognized the smirk of a man holding all the cards.
“What’s going on?” Hawk whispered, leaning over Tray’s ear.
Tray shrugged him off. He understood that Hawk was trying to be supportive, but the gesture felt like a show of weakness. “They have a cure. Now we negotiate a price.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t do that in here,” Hawk said, nodding toward the quarantine unit. Tray glanced over at Amanda, frustrated to see her wearing the Occ and talking to herself. She splayed her fingers over Danny’s forehead like she was trying to read his mind. Tray stepped toward the Drava ambassadors, arms open, ready to direct them out, but before he could get the words out, Kassa turned to him.
“We require two solar panels,” Kassa said smugly.
“You haven’t seen the one I offered,” Tray countered, his voice getting low and icy.
“Two solar panels, and this medical scanner,” Kassa said, pointing vaguely toward the medical bed in the center of the room.
“You overestimate your value,” Tray warned, crossing his arms. If a cure existed, it could be found, bought, or stolen.
“I know the value of a life,” Kassa countered.
“Sky?” Amanda called, standing on her knees, using Saskia’s bed for support. She cradled her broken arm against her chest.
Calmly, Tray snapped his fingers to get Amanda’s attention. The move made his wrist ache. “Amanda, lie down. We’ll have medicine soon,” he said in Terranan.
Amanda looked up sharply, her eyes flashing as though she’d sensed danger. “Sky,” she snarled, crouching and clenching her fists. Suddenly, she launched toward the wall of the quarantine unit, hitting so hard it shook the wall. “Sky, you witch! Get in here!”
Maintaining his unaffected, business tone, Tray turned to the Drava, switching to Lanvarian. “We should leave; we are upsetting her. Let us continue this discussion in the lounge.”
“I can stay with the young one—” Kavari began. Tray took a bold step forward to herd the Drava visitors out, but Kassa planted his foot and drew a weapon. It was a primitive pistol, both deadly and messy. Hawk’s pulse rifle was immediately pointed at Kassa. Suddenly both Kavari and Komati flanked their leader, pistols drawn.
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br /> “Who is this Sky that she calls for? She is more than a guide, isn’t she?” Ambassador Kassa growled. The Drava men were already large and intimidating, but it was amazing how menacing the kind, old doctor became.
Tray cringed. Amanda was raving in Terranan about a magic wand. Sky’s name was the only part of that sentence that Kassa understood. Tray could make an argument that the word meant something different in Terranan.
“She will calm on her own. We should leave this room,” Tray said sternly. He had no weapon, and his diplomacy was the only way to peacefully diffuse the situation.
“Is Sky responsible for her injuries? Is that what she says?” he asked.
Suddenly Sky appeared behind them, firing two shots that took out Kavari and Komati before pressing the barrel of her grav-gun against Kassa’s head.
“Hello, Sidney,” she said dangerously.
23
Sky’s heart was pounding. As soon as Amanda started screaming her name, she figured she had no choice but to reveal herself.
“It’s you?” Sidney whispered, his ear turning toward her, his weapon falling to the floor. Slowly, he turned to face her, staring at her like he was seeing a ghost. His breathing became labored and his mouth moved like he wanted to talk, but couldn’t form the words. “Adita, you haven’t aged a day!”
“You’re Chief Trade Ambassador now,” Sky observed, recognizing the square-printed scarf tucked into the neckline of his robe. She kept her weapon raised. “I hope nothing unfortunate befell your father.”
“He’s now a Judge. Thank you for thinking of him,” Sidney answered mechanically, pushing her weapon aside like he didn’t even notice it and stepping closer to her. Sky was surprised by his gentle, eager smile. “It’s good to see you.”
Sky looked uncertainly from Sidney to the others. Tray had pulled Amanda out of quarantine, and was attempting to quiet her down. Hawk watched keenly, ready to protect her, his muscles rippling every time Sidney made a move. Boldly, Sky stepped into Sidney’s arms and kissed him. It was the best diplomatic move, even if it did rile Hawk. Sidney laughed against her lips, embracing her trustingly.
“Adita, let’s not be vulgar in public,” he whispered, licking his lips, reminding her that his people did not kiss.
“If I knew you’d be so happy to see me, I’d have come to the Trade Circle myself,” Sky teased, caressing Sidney’s face. He was enamored, almost completely under her spell. This could work out well for them. “We don’t have two solar panels to spare, but perhaps I can offer something else.”
She pressed their bodies together, eliciting a soft, grateful sigh from Sidney, followed by a deep, lusty laugh.
“Is there no one on this ship that can satisfy you?” he grumbled, nuzzling her face and neck. It was strange being in his arms, feeling warm and loved, as if no time had passed since they’d last made love. Clinging to her, he closed his eyes, and rocked lightly foot to foot. “I could always satisfy you. Maybe this time, you’ll stay with me. Be my primary.”
Sky made no assurances. She simply smiled and lightly kissed his eyelids, never letting go of her grav-gun.
Tray cleared his throat. “Meryl . . . a word.”
The pseudonym made Sky cringe. With a few whispered promises, she managed to free herself from Sidney. Amanda struggled in Tray’s arms, hissing at Sky, demanding her medical kit. Sky pressed her grav-gun to Amanda’s chest.
“Do I have to shoot you again?” Sky warned in Terranan. Amanda fell silent, but her eyes were glistening thoughtfully, calculating the risk.
“You shot her?” Tray cried, wrapping his arms protectively around Amanda. “The bruised ribs? The broken arm? That was you?”
Sky raised her brow.
Anger rippled through Tray, but he sucked in his cheeks and took a breath. “Never mind. Can you get Kassa to agree to the solar panel or not?”
“We’re negotiating,” Sky said, giving Sidney a wink and a smile. “I might even get you the medicine for free.”
Amanda stopped struggling and stared at Sky in disbelief. “First you kill me for sex, then you shoot me?”
“I never tried to kill you,” Sky sang in her ear.
Tray grabbed Sky’s arm. “You’re not trading sex for medicine!”
“Who said anything about sex?” Sky said sharply, jerking free of Tray. She did not like being manhandled, especially by those who mistakenly believed they had her best interests at heart. “We’re nomads too, Tray. Once we trade a solar panel, we can’t get it back. Don’t ever give away something you cannot replace.”
Tray glowered.
“I’ve heard of Havara Pytr. The disease does not end with death by coma. Their organs melt. Their bodies collapse. If I can save Danny and Saskia with dinner and a harmless massage, I’m taking that option. It’s nothing I haven’t done before,” Sky said calmly, pinching Tray’s chin, offering him a charming smile. There was absolutely no chemistry between them, and she found that odd.
“Adita,” Sidney asked, his voice soft and sweet, like a nervous boy asking a girl on a date. “Evening meal is approaching. Would you care to join me?”
Sky gave a passing look to Kavari and Komati, still unconscious on the floor. Sidney did not seem concerned by their condition.
“I will join you tonight,” Sky said, giving Sidney a conspiratorial smile. “Our Trade Ambassador will accompany us to your camp to procure the medicine.”
She looked at Tray, and Tray nodded grudgingly. Hawk was not going to like this.
Preparations were underway for the evening meal in Drava, and the camp was buzzing as harvesters, hunters, and scouters came back from their daily assignments. Kids organized games and ran laughing through the Social Circle, expending as much energy as possible before the only open space in the camp filled with grown-ups. Laos lay on her bed, arms crossed over her chest, feet resting on Brishen’s lap. Normally she liked being out among the Drava at this hour, watching the families and hearing the elders reminisce. She rotated scouting assignments so that every one of her scouts could attend evening meal a few times per week.
Today, Laos did not want to go out there.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled her feet off of Brishen’s lap. Everything was weird now that he’d asked her to be his primary. She questioned every touch and every look. More so now with Tolen’s accusations plaguing her mind. Brishen was dying to ask her about the visitors, but was politely waiting for her to bring it up. At least, she hoped that was why he seemed so edgy. He poked gingerly at his bruised knuckles and Laos giggled. She had never seen Brishen hit anyone before. At the sound of her laughter, he self-consciously crossed his arms, hiding the injury.
“Does it still hurt?” she asked, sitting up, trying to appear sympathetic.
Brishen shrugged. “Tolen’s going to kill me now, isn’t he?”
“Nah, he likes you well enough,” she chuckled.
“He shouldn’t have yelled at you like that,” Brishen mumbled, looking at his bruised knuckles again. Tolen was used to protecting Brishen from bullies; no one had ever seen Brishen stand up for himself. The ensuing fight (or lack thereof) had taken Laos from near tears to uncontrollable laughter in a matter of minutes.
“It’s my fault,” Laos whispered, hugging her knees. “This morning, I guess I was flirting too much with the Oriana ambassador. That’s what their people are called. The Oriana.”
“You flirt?” Brishen teased.
“I guess,” she sighed, fiddling with the laces on her shin guards. After the fight, she’d torn out of the Trade Scout robes as fast as possible and gotten dressed for just regular, old scouting. She was comfortable in these clothes, and if it weren’t for Tolen and Brishen holding her back, she’d have scouted her way back to the Oriana’s ship by now. She still felt safer out there than in the Social Circle. “A lot of people think I’m flirting when I’m not. I can’t even smile without . . .”
“You’re hard to read sometimes,” he said, smiling genteelly, crossing the tent
and peering out. It was his not-so-subtle way of saying he was ready to leave. “I can never go by instinct with you; just what I’ve learned and cataloged from my years and years of knowing you.”
“Isn’t that how you get instinct for people?” she asked, coming next to him. She sighed again, letting him lead her outside through the maze of tents to the Circle. “I guess I make a lousy Trade Scout. I wish I knew what I was doing wrong.”
Brishen didn’t answer. She wished he would. If he knew the answer, she wished he would just tell her what it was that she did that made people think she was flirting. She brushed her fingers against the backs of Brishen’s bruised knuckles, but it wasn’t funny this time. In fact, it was probably one of those things she was doing wrong. His hand moved briefly to the small of her back, but then dropped again. He made a beeline for the back door of the food tent and Laos followed. Only overnight scouts and guards were supposed to get early plates, but Laos wanted nothing more than to grab a bite and get back home. Tolen had not finished chastising her, and by this point, he’d have told all her brothers what happened and they’d all gang up on her.
Brishen stopped suddenly and she plowed into his back.
“Brishen!” she cried, grabbing hold of his arm to keep from falling.
“Sorry,” he murmured, pointing to the main trail leading into the camp. Kavari and Komati came over the ridge into the dell and Laos smiled. The Trade party was back, which meant she hadn’t ruined everything with her inadvertent flirting that afternoon. Her smile faltered when she didn’t see her dad with them.
“Doctor!” she hollered, running to Dr. Kavari. “Doctor, where’s my dad?”
She wasn’t the only one to notice them. Caira, Tolen, and a slew of others surrounded the pair.
“Are you injured?” Caira asked, taking Dr. Kavari’s arm. The old woman was winded, but determined to keep walking until her mission was complete.