“Yes.”
“Good.” A sniffle. “I’m glad. I’m glad you killed him.” Another sniffle, this one somehow defiant. “He was evil. He deserved it.”
“Yeah, he was evil. And yeah, he deserved it.” Crouching, Dona picked up the child’s pants and offered them. The girl hesitated a long moment, one swollen eye staring up into Dona’s face. At least she’d stopped crying.
Finally Dona put the pants down and backed away. The girl snatched them up and jerked them on, then dragged her shirt down where it belonged. When she was finally covered again, Dona extended a hand. The child shrank away. “I’m sorry I scared you. Look, let’s just . . . go.”
The doubt in those enormous eyes hurt worse than taking a blade herself. Dona gestured down the path. “Your village is that way. Don’t you want to go home?”
The child snuffled and scrubbed a dirt-smeared hand across her runny nose. “I . . . guess.”
Dona forced a smile. When the kid flinched, she realized her face was probably covered in blood splatter. With a mental sigh, she started up the path toward the village. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
She didn’t turn around, but after a pause, she heard the crunch of small feet walking through the leaves in her wake.
“Caroleen?” A male voice cried in the distance. “Caroleen? Caroleen, where are you?!”
“Papa!” The girl darted past Dona, racing down the trail like a startled thing. Dona followed at a slow jog, wanting to make sure she made it back to her father.
“Caroleen!” The voice came closer. He was running.
“Papa! I’m here, Papa! I’m here!”
Dona stopped to watch her vanish around a cluster of crownferns. “Papa!”
“Caroleen! Oh, gods, what happened?”
Hysterical sobs followed, along with a frantic spill of words. “I went looking for Mr. Whiskers because he was lost, and I couldn’t find him anywhere, and I looked and looked, but . . .”
“Damned cat,” Papa muttered. “Where have you been, girl?”
“A hornhead grabbed me! He hurt me, Papa!”
Her father gasped as if he’d just taken a mortal wound. Dona winced.
Incoherent murmurs, soothing whispers.
The next words sounded quite clear. “But then the ’borg lady came, and she killed him! She killed him dead, Papa!”
Dona turned and walked back into the jungle to look for her knife.
The dream shifted, wrenching into another place, another time.
Dona strode through the Aranian compound, headed for her own tent at last, wanting only to forget the night in sleep.
A group of soldiers staggered out of the Enlisted Club, half-supporting each other, laughing. Drunk.
“Gods!” one of them said, peering at her. She could almost see the haze of alcohol fumes wreathing the woman’s head. “That girl’s got blood all over her. Is she hurt? Shouldn’t we . . .”
“Naw. That’s Kavel’s Killer, dumbass,” one of the others interrupted. “She always comes back wearing somebody else’s blood.”
“That’s Astryr? Shit! I thought she’d be taller.”
Then the dream jumped again, and she stood in the shadow of a tent, a soothing pool of darkness. She knew the darkness, and it knew her.
A soft, high voice began to whimper to the sound of flesh smacking on flesh . . .
“Bastard!”
The scream of rage jolted Alerio awake to see Dona roll off the couch, bare feet thumping to the floor. He hit the deck an instant after she did, scanning for whatever threatened her. But there was nothing there.
Yet she stared around at his quarters with a snarl twisting her face, her body coiled to fight.
She’s asleep.
Sleepwalking, his neurocomp confirmed. It would be best not to touch her. Doing so would only increase her disorientation.
“It’s all right, Dona,” he murmured soothingly, keeping his distance as his comp ordered the room’s illumination increased to full. “You’re in my quarters. Everything’s all right.”
Dona blinked. Awareness returned to her violet eyes as she stared at him in bewilderment. “Alerio?”
“That’s right. It’s me.” He held out his arms and waited.
She paused, before throwing herself into them. Her arms wrapped around him with desperate strength. “Gods and demons, that was a bitch of a dream.”
“Ivar?” Alerio stroked her back.
She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “He’s only my latest boogeyman, Alerio. I’ve got a whole collection to choose from.” Dona pulled free. Despite his inclination to draw her tight again, he let her go. “Most of ’em are Xeran. I killed a lot of Xerans.” Her delicate face hardened. “And every one of them deserved it.”
He paused, remembering her file. “That was when you were with the Aranian military?”
“Yeah.” Dona glanced around, spotted her T-suit top and snatched it up. “I’d better go.”
He already missed her warmth. “I like having you in my arms, Dona. Stay.”
She looked at him in pain and longing before she jerked her uniform top over her head and started searching for her pants. “I need to be alone right now. That dream . . .” She broke off. “It’s better if I go.”
“All right.” Trying to stop her would be a really bad idea, Alerio told himself, though the haunted look on her face made his chest ache.
Dona sat down on the couch to drag on her pants and stomp her feet into her boots. Without another word, she rose and headed for the door.
When Alerio stepped into her path and leaned down for a kiss, she dodged without looking at him. “I’ll com you in the morning.”
His big hands fell to his sides. “All right.” Feeling helpless, Alerio watched her escape from his quarters like a woman fleeing a potentially fatal mistake.
Have I lost her again? Did I ever have her to begin with?
Alerio went back to bed and tried to sleep. After a fruitless half hour staring at the ceiling, he gave up and rolled out of bed. His comp could put him to sleep in seconds, but too many problems nagged him. If he didn’t solve at least one of them, he knew he’d only end up wrestling them all in his dreams.
Naked, he dropped into his chair and palmed the top of his desk. Instantly, a glowing grid sprang into place above its smooth obsidian surface. Alerio reached in and drew out a three-dimensional golden box.
Dona’s dossier.
He leaned back and stared at it. He’d last read the file—or at least most of it—two years ago, when Dona was first assigned to the Outpost. She’d only just graduated from the TE academy, having requested to become an Enforcer after a decade with the Aranian military.
He’d approved the request, of course. She had an impressive list of qualifications, including combat skills and a dazzling collection of military decorations for bravery in some very ugly operations.
She could also hit any target with any weapon, and her hand-to-hand combat skills made even Alerio raise an eyebrow. Arania didn’t have a great reputation when it came to producing combat ’borgs, but Dona had upgraded her tech at her own expense before attending the academy. During her four years there, she’d amassed a respectable file of glowing recommendations.