Page 15 of Jessica's Protector

Taking Jessica’s arm, I gently pull her to the bedroom, telling Quin, “You should be relieved. Otherwise, they’d know we were all here.” She’s resisting me as I add, “I’m taking Jessica to the safe room just to be sure.”

Quin isn’t listening and soon none of us move as the ground trembles. Jessica twists out of my grip and runs to the viewer. She eases Quin aside and looks out.

After she says what I’m sure is a curse in Earther, I ask Quin, “What the pless is she looking at?”

He glances at me first, then S’Tou. “A downed ship of yours.” Giving a nod to the half-Gharian Nilt, he adds, “A few of your people, too.”

Jessica backs up. Even her face’s spots are pale. I know why. If she’d decided to leave us, she’d have been killed by the explosion, too. She comes to me and I hold her, grateful to Origins she’s with us.

We need more information, S’Tou sends me. This battle isn’t normal. We don’t fire upon Kostans or Vahdmoshi unless something is seriously wrong.

I know, I reply. I haven’t tried contacting Aard. Have you?

Yes, but no answer. We’re being blocked. Before I can ask, he adds, Not us specifically, but the entire sector.

I don’t need to tell him how dire our situation is. We’ve counted on Aard and his associates to give us occasional supply drops. This planet barely has life as it is. We can’t grow anything due to the quarantine laws, a rule none of us will break. Our food replicator is on its last wire. We have stores of real food to last a while, but not forever and with Jessica here? I don’t want to chance her safety.

I have no choice but to open a communications door few suspects exist.

Speaking aloud for Jessica’s sake, I tell S’Tou, “Can you show her the sonic closet while I look for something small enough to fit her? Let her wash off the dust and Kostan stench?”

“Of course.” He stands and smiles at Jessica. “Yes,” he says in Gharian and walks to the bedroom. “Yes?”

She’s let go of me by now, but I was too much in my own mind to notice. She looks at him, then at me and crosses her arms. I laugh, because of course. “She thinks you’re propositioning her.”

His horrified expression leaves me laughing even more as he sputters, “I wouldn’t. She’s your match.”

“We know that, but she doesn’t.” I follow S’Tou, motioning her to accompany us. “Come on, yes,” I say to her and don’t wait to go to the sonic closet. I open the door and tell S’Tou, “There. You get started with the controls while I hunt down something for her to wear.”

Will do, he sends, beginning his instructions on the sonics for her.

I walk through the living area. Nilt is arranging his specimens on the shelf, getting them back to their pre-demonstration positions. Quin has his face pressed against the viewer. I ask, “Any news?”

“No, just a smoldering wreck.” He shifts from one foot to the other. “The Kostans fired a few more times before taking off. Should we go see if there are survivors?”

“We should but can’t,” I remind him. All of us are criminals somehow, with me being the worst. “I need to visit our supplies.”

“Mm-mmm,” he replies while staring through the viewer, already distracted.

Once I’m down the tunnel and in a side room I’d carved into accidently, I search our stores for smaller clothes. Aard is a good ally but sometimes brings us leftovers from auctions on backward colonies. I’ve had to tell him more than once we’re not his trash pile. I begin searching the clothes. Sometimes, it’s good to have the extra and I’m almost glad he didn’t listen to me.

Which reminds me….

I relax, my heart still racing from what I’m about to do. My mind has been closed for so long to everything in the universe except S’Tou and Aard. I know the mental door to open, though, because I’d programmed it into existence before my sentencing. I undo the security protocols, opening the door like jumping into cold water.

Notifications pour into my mind. So many. My head aches as if each message has an actual weight. My system automatically sorts them for me, grouping them by importance. I’m curious, of course, but I can’t open a single one or they’ll find and censure me.

I scroll, instead, reading preview text. Some are from my family. A couple are from my former mentee. I want to reply every one of them. Apologize for the thousandth time, but can’t. I shake off the urge and keep going to the highest priority.

“Holy Origins,” I mutter when realizing the Kostans invaded Earth’s orbit. I can’t do more than scan the subject headers, but from what I can tell, they abducted Earthers, too. I have no idea why or what emboldened them beyond the usual black market, but a few of the notifications lead with the numbers of Earthers taken.

Jessica was only one of hundreds of thousands. Nearly a million of her people are now out in the galaxy. If Emperor Eldan forces the rescued abducted Earthers to live by the Lesser World Order he ignored for his Earther empress’s sake, they’re going to need a lot of space on Tardar Nest.

I need to tell the others, but first send an encrypted request to the datalinks for Jessica’s language. Gripping her clothes in my hand, I accept the download, aware I’m either helping her or allowing the empire to capture me.

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