“That won’t be necessary,” said Kai. “We have the room. Let them board.” Though a dozen province representatives and some journalists from the Commonwealth media were already aboard, the ship was nowhere near capacity.
The officer frowned. “I do believe it’s a matter of security, not space. Due to their technical difficulties, we’ve been unable to obtain a proper ID on the ship or its officers. Their vid-comm is also malfunctioning. Our visual of the ship does confirm it as a Republic military ship, Rampion class, but beyond that we’re forced to take them at their word, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind Your Majesty that … your kidnappers were also in a Rampion.”
Kai pretended to consider his point. “The Rampion I was held hostage aboard had the silhouette of a lady painted on its port side. Is there such a marking on the secretary’s ship?”
The officer relayed the question into a comm-chip on his collar, and a moment later confirmed that no such lady was visible. Only black paneling on the boarding ramp.
“There you have it,” said Kai, attempting nonchalance. “We will accept our American allies on board, assuming their podships are in working order. In fact, why don’t I come down to the dock to greet them, as a show of political goodwill?”
“I’ll come as well,” said Torin, setting his port aside.
The first mate looked like he wanted to object but, after an uncertain moment, clicked his heels together and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
* * *
Even the waiting room outside the podship dock was luxurious and Kai found himself tapping his foot on thick carpet while machinery hummed in the surrounding walls. The ship’s captain had joined them, waiting to greet their guests before returning to the bridge, and he and the first mate stood with impeccable posture in their unwrinkled uniforms.
The screen beside the sealed doors announced that the dock was safe to enter.
The captain went first, Kai right behind him. There were six of their own podships waiting, and empty spaces for three more. The Rampion’s shuttle had taken the farthest spot and sat with its engines powering down.
The two doors rose simultaneously and five people emerged—America’s secretary of defense, one assistant, one intern, and two security agents.
The captain shook the secretary’s hand, welcoming the newcomers aboard, followed by a series of diplomatic bows.
“Thank you for your hospitality. We do apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused,” said the secretary, as Kai tried to figure out who this was beneath the illusion. He guessed Thorne and Wolf were the security agents, but the glamour being cast for the Republic’s secretary was perfect, straight down to the mole on the right side of her chin. The assistant and intern were equally convincing. It was impossible to distinguish them from Cinder, Iko, and Cress.
“Evidently,” added the assistant, gaze flashing in Kai’s direction, “this all could have been avoided if the ship’s mechanic had remembered to bring a pair of wire cutters.”
Kai’s mouth twitched. That one, then, was Cinder. He tried to imagine her beneath the glamour, smug over her use of their new “code word.” He refrained from rolling his eyes at her.
“It’s no inconvenience at all,” said Kai, focusing on the secretary. “We’re glad we could be of assistance. Do you need us to send anyone to retrieve your ship?”
“No, thank you. The Republic has already sent a maintenance crew, but we didn’t want to be delayed longer than necessary. We do have a party to get to, you know.”
The secretary winked, very un-diplomat-like. Iko, then.
Remembering Cinder’s warning—that it would be tiring for her to not only glamour herself but also manipulate the perception of her four comrades, and she didn’t know how long she’d be able to maintain it—Kai gestured toward the exit. “Come with me. We have a sitting room where we’ll all be comfortable. Can I offer you some tea?”
“I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks,” said one of the security personnel.
Cinder-the-assistant cast a cold glare at the man. Thorne.
“We’re fine,” said Cinder. “Thank you.”
“Right this way.” Kai and Torin led their guests away from the docking bay, dismissing the captain and first mate. No one spoke until they’d made their way back to his private rooms.
When Kai faced his guests again, the disguises were gone and the reality of seeing five known criminals in his sitting room reminded him that he’d just put everyone aboard this ship in a great amount of danger.
“Is this room secure?” asked Thorne.
“It should be,” said Kai. “We use it for international conferencing and—”
“Cress?”
“On it, Captain.” Cress pulled a portscreen from her back pocket and went to the control panel built into the wall, running whatever system check she’d devised.
“This is Konn Torin, my head adviser. Torin, you remember Cin—”
“Wait,” said Cinder, holding up a hand.
Kai paused.
Nine long, silent seconds passed between them, before finally Cress unplugged her portscreen. “All clear.”
“Thank you, Cress,” said Thorne.
Cinder lowered her hand. “Now we can talk.”
Kai raised an eyebrow. “Right. Torin, you remember Cinder and Iko.”
Torin nodded at them, his arms crossed, and Cinder returned the nod, laced with an equal amount of tension. “I told you I’d return him safely,” she said.
A flicker of irony passed over Torin’s face. “You promised no harm would come to him. In my opinion, that includes physical injury.”
“It was just one punch, Torin.” Kai shrugged at Cinder. “I tried to explain it was all a part of the charade.”
“I understand perfectly, but forgive me for being defensive.” Torin scrutinized their new guests. “Though I’m grateful Kai has been returned, it seems this ordeal is hardly over. I hope you know what you’re doing, Linh Cinder.”
Kai expected her to make some self-deprecating remark about how Torin wasn’t the only one, but instead, after a long silence, Cinder asked, “How much does he know?”
“Everything,” said Kai.
She turned back to Torin. “In that case, thank you for your help. May I introduce you to the rest of our team: Iko you’ve met, and this is our ship’s captain, Carswell Thorne, our software engineer, Cress Darnel, and my security officer … Wolf.”
As Torin greeted their guests with more respect than was required, given the circumstances, Kai’s attention lingered on Cinder. She stood ten full paces away from him, and as much as Kai wanted to cross the room and kiss her, he couldn’t. Maybe it was Torin’s presence. Maybe it was knowing they were on their way to Luna, where he would be married. Maybe he was afraid their time spent on the Rampion had been a dream, too fragile to survive in reality.
Though he’d seen her three days ago, it felt like a lifetime. A wall had been erected between them during that absence, though he wasn’t sure what had changed. Their relationship was precarious. Kai felt like if he breathed the wrong way, he might destroy everything, and he could see the same uncertainty mirrored in Cinder’s face.
“Oh, look,” said Iko, crossing to the row of windows. Luna was emerging in their view, bright white and pocked with a thousand craters and cliffs. They were close enough to see the biodomes, sunlight glinting off their surfaces.
Kai had never in his life dreamed he would step foot on Luna. Seeing it now, the inevitability of his fate made his stomach squeeze tight.
Cinder turned to Kai. She was doing a good job of hiding her anxiety, but he was learning to recognize it beneath her squared shoulders and determined looks. “I hope you have something for us?”
Kai gestured at a cabinet against the wall.
Iko was the first one there, yanking open the doors with effervescent enthusiasm, but it wilted fast when she saw the clothes Nainsi had gathered. The stack was a mix of browns and grays and dull whites, linens and cottons. Simple, utilitarian clothing.