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  “Any guess as to where he went?”

  “No.”

  The misogynistic piece of shit who dared to call himself this girl's father was now standing on the patio and watching them intently. “She answered your questions, Agent Lenai,” he said. “I think it's time for you to go.”

  “There's a lot of ground we could cover.”

  He stiffened, shaking his head in disgust. “I'm asking you to leave my property,” he said, coming up behind her. “My daughter didn't have anything to do with what that boy did, and there's nothing she can tell you.”

  For half a moment, Anna considered protesting, but it dawned on her that Amanda might suffer the consequences for anything she did to piss off the girl's father. Abusive pigs like him tended to channel their frustration into a weapon they used to keep their victims in line. “All right,” she said. “Thank you for your time.”

  When she pushed open the door to her small motel room, Anna found that the staff had done their jobs. The blankets on the single bed were pulled up and tucked in neatly with pillows arranged for that perfect aesthetic charm.

  Jena stood in the wan light that came in through the blind-covered window, dressed in jeans and her long brown coat. The woman had her arms folded, her posture stiff and tense like a riled cat.

  Anna closed her eyes, hissing softly to herself. “Come to check up on me?” she asked, slamming the door shut. “I haven't had much luck finding the kid.”

  A frown compressed Jena's mouth into a thin line, and she grunted as she peered through the window. “Yeah, I figured as much,” she said. “But I'll take any excuse to get some fresh air. What can you report?”

  “I just spoke with Amanda Simmons.”

  “And?”

  Clenching her teeth, Anna turned her face up to the ceiling. “The poor girl is being abused,” she said. “I'm making it a priority to get her out of that situation.”

  Jena glanced over her shoulder with an expression as cold as ice. “Are you now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that isn't even remotely related to your assignment?”

  “Witness my lack of caring.”

  “Anna…”

  Crossing her arms, Anna leaned against the wall with a deep breath. “We're Justice Keepers,” she said, ignoring the bile churning in her stomach. “See evil, punch evil? I'm pretty sure there's a whole chapter about it the handbook.”

  The other woman spun to face her, bracing one hand against the window pane. She hunched over, heaving out a deep breath. “That's true, but at the moment you have much larger concerns to deal with.”

  “I'll deal with both.”

  “Oh? And have you thought about how you plan to accomplish this? You don't have the authority to remove a child from her home; so you're going to have to work within the system. That means you'll have to produce solid evidence of the abuse taking place. Do you have that? Or is it just a hunch?”

  “I can tell.”

  “The courts won't accept that.”

  Anna felt her face heat up, sweat beading on her forehead. “I don't care!” she spat. “If I have to, I'll tear this wretched little town apart, but I am not leaving that child in the hands of that monster.”

  “I see,” Jena replied. “And if rescuing this girl costs you your career?”

  In that brief moment of tense silence, the only thing Anna could do was stare into the other woman's pleading brown eyes. This wasn't the sort of argument she would have expected from Jena; in truth, it sounded more like the kind of slimy politicking that put people like Slade into positions of power.

  These past few months, she had often chastised Jack for his tendency to buck the system, but here she was doing the exact same thing. Her best friend's defiance suddenly made all kinds of sense. “If that's what it takes,” she said. “So be it.”

  Jena's smile was positively beatific, the kind of smile a mother wore when her child won first prize in a contest. “I knew taking you on was a good idea,” she replied. “You're right; we're not gonna leave that girl to suffer.”

  “Then what-”

  The other woman spun around, pacing to the other wall. “Focus on locating Kevin,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder. “I'll start the paperwork to have Child Services look into Amanda's situation.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh don't thank me,” Jena said.

  Chapter 6

  Banks of lights in a very high ceiling cast a kind of golden radiance down on a field of lush green grass with elm trees dotting the landscape. A cobblestone path slithered its way around flowerbeds and the odd boulder. That a place like this could exist inside a starship…Two days ago, he would have never imagined it.

  Dressed in beige pants and a dark blue t-shirt, Jack stood with arms crossed behind the railing of a small balcony. “You weren't kidding,” he muttered. “When you say a ship is designed for comfort, you mean it.”

  Gabi stepped up beside him in a pair of black pants and a matching blouse, her long dark hair tied in a ponytail. “Some people spend much of their career on ships,” she said. “So we try to make them as hospitable as possible. The lights are designed to match the natural frequency of sunlight and to wax and wane of a twenty-four hour schedule.”

  “I've always wanted to go to space,” he replied. “But I'm not sure I could live most of my life on a ship. I need fresh air.”

  Of course, the air in here did feel fresh. It was even a little muggy. Summer found the experience quite pleasant. From what he had been told, the Leyrians were prone to constructing environments like this on all their space stations.

  “Come on,” Jack said.

  He descended a set of steps two at a time, keeping his head down. “I want to get a good look at this place,” he added as he stepped onto the path. “It's not everyday you see a whole ecosystem inside.”

  They walked in silence for a little while as he marveled at this indoor…park. There were even bees floating about over the flowers. It was truly remarkable, and he couldn't help but cringe at the insane amount of maintenance something like this would require.

  Then he saw it.

  A small, cylindrical robot about the size of a footstool went rumbling through the grass, and where it passed, the blades were shorter. Not far ahead, human-shaped bots stood over flowerbeds, spraying them with some kind of solution.

  It wouldn't be water – he understood Leyrian thinking well enough to know that would be handled by an automated sprinkler system – but perhaps it was a fertilizer of some kind. One robot glanced in his direction, its camera lens focusing on him, and then it went back to work.

  Jack stopped under a tree.

  He slipped his hands into his back pockets, then spun to face his companion. “So we meet with the professor the day after we arrive,” he said softly. “You have any plans in the meantime?

  Gabi shut her eyes, breathing deeply and then letting it out again. “I was hoping to visit my mother,” she replied. “I haven't been home in nearly two years. She'll want to know what's going on in my life.”

  Chewing on his lower lip, Jack bowed his head to her. “Is that an invitation to join you?” he asked, deep creases forming in his brow. “Because my mom keeps nagging me to make you come to dinner.”

  “I didn't mean-”

  Jack turned away from her, starting up the path. “It's fine,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I really didn't want to push…I just thought we won't get another chance to visit for a while.”

  In his mind's eye, he saw her walking with a hand pressed to her stomach, her eyes downcast. “I didn't mean it like that…” she murmured. “It's just…We haven't even defined what this is or how long it'll last.”

  Jack felt his face burn, tension flaring up in his chest. “Well, it's not for any lack of trying!” he snapped. “At this point, I'm honestly thinking of cracking open the Big Book of Rom-Com Clichés.”

  “Jack…”

  “Oh, don't worry; you'll love it,�
� he pressed on. “It features such stock dialogue as 'what is this to you?' and 'where do you see this relationship going?' ”

  His voice had more bite than he would have preferred, but it was hard to keep the bitterness from creeping in. Summer urged caution – relationship advice from a Nassai; now there was a new one – but he couldn't help himself.

  It had been three months, for fuck sake! He was beginning to think of Gabi as the Queen of Mixed Signals. Every time he started to wonder if maybe it was time to call it quits, she did something that made it abundantly clear she really liked him. But ask her what she wanted, and she froze up.

  He turned.

  Gabi stood on the path with hands folded over her stomach, her face stern but not angry. “Are you finished?” she asked, raising a dark eyebrow. “Because I'd like to make sure I've heard the entire adolescent rant before I respond.”

  Jack felt the heat of anger that wasn't his. Apparently Summer was pissed off on his behalf. Not that it surprised him much. His symbiont would gladly bitch-slap anyone who did him wrong. “Yeah,” Jack said. “I'd say this conversation is pretty much over.”

  A railing overlooked a dance floor in a night club where the walls lit up with fierce blue light, bathing everything in a cobalt glow. Down below, people shuffled about, some grinding up against one another.

  Jack gripped the metal bar in both hands, leaning over to watch the crowd. “Well, Summer,” he said. “The results are in. Just three short months, and I'm back to awkward wallflower. What do you think? New record?”

  The spatial awareness that came with his Bond had its perks. Without even looking, he could sense half a dozen single people spaced out on this balcony and also the couples who clung to the wall, making out or talking quietly.

  Ben approached in a pair of gray pants and a black t-shirt, his dark hair now falling to the nape of his neck. “So here you are,” he said over the music. “Gabi's been trying to get a hold of you.”

  “I'm sure she has.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Baring his teeth in a snarl, Jack looked up to squint into the distance. “I'm fine,” he answered with a curt nod. “Just reviving my grand tradition of avoiding all things fun and sociable. It's important not to lose touch with your roots.”

  His friend stepped up to the railing, frowning down at the crowd below. “She was saying something about dancing with you,” Ben said. “I think maybe she wants to make up for…whatever's going on.”

  Jack paused for a moment.

  There were times when he forgot his friend had a knack for reading emotions. He hadn't said anything to Ben about the fight, and it was very unlikely that Gabi would have confided in the other man. But the ability to read a situation was the most useful skill in a spy's toolkit; Ben had told him more than once that he would fit right in at LIS.

  “I can't dance,” Jack said.

  “And you can't talk either.”

  Clamping a hand over his mouth, Jack shut his eyes and trembled with laughter. “I think I'm gonna have to stop you right there. Any more, and Phil Collins will be forced to sue for copyright infringement.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  Jack spun around to lean against the railing with fingers laced over the back of his head. “So, she wants to dance with me,” he said. “You really think my spastic gyrating is going to improve the situation?”

  Ben winced, hanging his head. He pressed a palm to his forehead and let out a soft groan. “We're gonna be stuck on this ship for another two days,” he answered. “Do you really want to spend them fighting with your girlfriend?”

  There was some truth in that, though Jack had to resist the urge to point out the fact that Gabi was not his girlfriend. Not yet anyway. He still held out some small hope that might change, but he was beginning to suspect that it wouldn't.

  A set of stairs led from the balcony to the first floor of the night club, bathed in the soft light that radiated from the walls. Jack made his way downward with a grunt. At the very least, he could have some fun this evening; from what he'd read on the subject, it was a truly pleasant experience.

  At the foot of the stairs, a hologram appeared under the overhang of the balcony. The image was that of a tall man with fair skin and dark hair that he wore parted in the middle. “Good evening, sir,” he said. “Can I be of some assistance?”

  “Who picks the music here?”

  The hologram flickered for a moment, then reappeared, standing straight and tall with a vacant expression. “The music is selected by software that measures the mood of the crowd,” he said. “Would you care to make a request?”

  “Got any Dexys Midnight Runners?”

  “I'm afraid not, sir.”

  Jack shuffled passed the hologram, making his way out to the dance floor where he could feel uncomfortable in time to the music. If you were going to make a complete ass of yourself, it was best to do so with rhythm.

  It wasn't hard to spot her.

  Gabi was still dressed in her black pants and matching shirt, and she swayed to the music while snapping her fingers. A young man with copper skin and black hair that he wore in a long ponytail danced in front of her. The pair of them seemed to be having a good time.

  Odd…Jack would have expected himself to feel jealous, but while he did have his concerns about the future of this relationship – if you could even call it that – the sight of Gabi with another man didn't provoke them. Was that a bad thing? Should he feel a little more jealous?

  Someone tapped his shoulder.

  He spun to find a woman in a pink halter-top dancing in front of him. She was a gorgeous young twenty-something with tanned skin and dark hair that fell well past her shoulders. “Come on,” she said with enough volume to overpower the music.

  Biting his lower lip, Jack winced so hard his face hurt. “You probably don't want to do this,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm not a very good dancer. When the whole thing's over, you'll have nothing but sore feet and a bruised ego.”

  She didn't hear him, of course – the music was much too loud for that – and before he could say one more word, she took his hands and pulled him close. It occurred to him that his instinct to shrink away from a woman like this was the product of a bad habit he'd been trying to break. On some level, Jack still saw himself as utterly undesirable, but it was time to do away with such nonsense.

  The woman smiled up at him, her green eyes sparkling as she held his gaze. Well, this is nice, he thought as she lifted his hand to twirl underneath it. It's not so bad. I pretty much just stand here while she-

  The woman spun around, pressing her back to him, then reached up to clamp one hand on the back of his neck. She writhed against him, and suddenly he felt very much like a boy at a sixth-grade dance.

  Blushing hard, Jack closed his eyes. He tried to ignore his own rising anxiety. No, this won't be awkward at all, he assured himself. Just stand here and try your best to look like you're having a good time.

  Up on the balcony, Ben watched his friends enjoy themselves. It would have been nice if Darrel were here with him, but this kind of mission was best handled by a smaller team, and his boyfriend wasn't exactly well-versed in Leyrian culture. At the very least, he could take some pleasure in seeing his friends happy.

  Jack seemed to have found some companionship, though it was clear that he wasn't quite sure what to make of the woman who pressed her body up against him. The irony would have been delicious if it wasn't so tragic; here was a man who could jump several times higher than a normal person, react several times faster than a normal person and call on years of martial arts training…and he had no clue what to do with himself when put on a dance floor with a beautiful partner.

  On the other side of the room, Gabi watched him with one hand over her mouth, trembling as if she found the whole thing very funny. Well, it was. Though Ben wasn't sure how Jack would react to the idea that the woman he was seeing wasn't the least bit jealous. Problems, problems, pr
oblems.

  Ben closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. “And you can't solve any of them,” he said to himself. “Focus on your own concerns. Let them sort this out on their own.”

  He tapped at the screen of his multi-tool, logging in to the e-mail application. One particular message had been sitting there for three days, vexing him. With a few quick taps, he read it for the hundredth time.

  Ex-militia operatives still in possession of stolen weapons captured on Palissa. Serial numbers match those of the missing shipments. Interrogations have proved fruitful. The prisoners have confirmed that the weapons were delivered by a rogue LIS agent, but they are unaware of his identity.

  - Agent Marc Tarens

  LIS field ops, Palissa.

  Ben had asked his superiors to keep him up to date on the investigation that would eventually result in his arrest. That e-mail had come three days ago. He wasn't willing to interfere with that investigation – his willingness to ignore his conscience in the service of some greater good only went so far – but if they had come this far, it was only a matter of time before they learned the identity of the culprit.

  Ben winced, a single tear rolling over his cheek. He drew in a rasping breath. You may have to say good-bye after all, Darrel, he thought to himself. I know I promised to come back for you, but…

  In the meantime, he had a mission to complete. He would do his duty for as long as he could, and when the hammer fell, he would accept his fate. That was all anyone could expect from a man.

  A long rectangular window behind the couch in his sitting room looked out on an endless void. There were no stars – they would be invisible so long as the ship remained at FTL speeds – but just the same, he found the view sufficient for a little introspection.

  Jack stood by the window with his head down, his chin touching his chest. His face twisted into a grimace. So, you're finally going to visit Leyria, he thought. With a woman who hates the thought of dating you.