Chapter Twenty-Five
Kalen’s robe of nobility whips in the wind as he strides down the river-walk. Luna wags her tail and bolts toward him, yanking the leash out of my hand. He scratches her behind the ears, then looks at me, his eyes narrowing.
“What brainless overseer granted you permission to leave the estate?”
“Tarik.” I hold out my wrist as proof.
Kalen doesn’t bother checking my Day Pass, but rests his forearms on the railing, his long graceful fingers fiddling with the bandage wrapped around his other hand. “Of all people, I thought Tarik would have more brains than to set you loose in the city.”
“You told me I could come here whenever I needed more herbs for Adeline.”
“I told you to come to me for your Day Pass, not Tarik.” He arches a brow, his eyes sparking with humor. “And by the way you’re standing this close to the sea, a good mile from the market, I would almost think you were plotting an escape.” He leans in closer and whispers, “Did you find a crack in the city walls, or were you planning on swimming halfway across the planet again?”
I almost choke.
“I just needed to get out of the estate for a few hours,” I say. “Explore the city that holds me captive.”
He tilts his head. “Captive?”
“What are you doing here?”
He looks across the river. “Like you, taking a stroll along the river-walk to clear my mind. Then I saw a familiar little copper-head racing with my dog and decided to see what sort of trouble she was up to.”
“Oh. Well. Don’t let me stand in your way, she might get away.”
He laughs, his dimples deepening, and despite my annoyance, my heart lifts. I look down and pick at my thumbnail. I shouldn’t trust these strange feelings Kalen stirs. Not when he’s suddenly interested in trading slaves.
“So, do you often take strolls along the river?” I ask.
“Not really.” He sighs. “Zimri stopped in for dinner, and, of course, we got into it.”
Not surprising. I hear them arguing all the time when Zimri visits, not to mention all the arguments Kalen has with his father. Though Kalen is loved and admired at his parties, I can’t say his presence holds the same exuberance with his family. Except Sarka. He and Sarka fit together like a puzzle, their humor completing each other to no end.
“What were you and Zimri arguing about this time?”
He sighs and drags his hand across the back of his neck. “I told him he’s dishonoring Mother’s wishes by bringing more slaves in. And Zimri, being the short-tempered prick he is, blew up.” He frowns. “It was a low blow, I suppose. Bringing Mother into it.”
“How is he dishonoring her wishes?”
“She’s never supported slavery.”
I remember him and his father talking about that not long ago.
“But…you just agreed to bring more slaves in, too.”
A slow smile eases on his face. “There she is. The eavesdropper.”
“You told your father you wanted to build a bigger ship, just for slaves. Thousands of slaves. Is it true? Have you really become a power-hungry slave trader?”
His smile vanishes. “Do you really think I’d suddenly be interested in slave trade that easily? That I’d offer you freedom, then turn and see Humans as worthless enough not to own their own lives? Gods, Lark. What you must think of me, of my morals, my promises.”
“You didn’t refute it when I was binding up your hand.”
“Because there are listening ears everywhere in my father’s estate, as evidenced by the fact that I can’t even keep a secret from you.”
“So, then, why? Why are you building a ship specifically for slave trade?”
He releases a frustrated sigh. “It’s all an act, Lark. Raging hells. You really think that low of me?” He utters another crude word under his breath and drags a hand through his dark curls.
“An act for what? What’s the point?”
The irritation leaves his eyes, understanding slowly taking place. “While I was on my trip, I—I was consumed with disgust. Disgust with my father. My culture. With the very nation that gave me life. I couldn’t stand watching slaves leave their families against their will, loaded on my ship to leave their lives forever so they could be worked to the bone on another planet. The pain I experienced…” He shakes his head, swallowing convulsively. “It killed me.” His voice is husky as he looks down at his knuckles. They’ve gone white around the banister. “I didn’t agree with slavery before. I wanted to wash my hands of the business, have no part in it.” He pins me with those eyes, which aren’t laughing lavender anymore, but a dangerous violet. “Now, I want to have an acting hand in stopping it.”
A breath escapes me at the determination in his voice. “How can you stop it, though, when you’re building a ship for slave trade?”
“The ship was an idea I’d heard Zimri toss around several times. A plan he would carry out if he took over the company. I could have walked away from the company, and Zimri would have still built the ship, still had five thousand or more slaves imported each trip. But I can’t sit back anymore. I can’t turn a blind eye. I want the company now, Lark. Not to sell slaves, but so I can stop the slave trade altogether once I inherit it. Zimri’s pissed, of course. I pretty much stole his idea and made it my own. He’s going to lose this deal because my plan will easily win over the company.” He releases a half-hearted laugh, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Father’s going to be even more pissed when I stop all forms of slave trade once the company is in my name.”
It’s a clever plan. “But people, so many people, will be torn from their homes in the process.”
He bows his head. “Yes. For one trip. But if I walked away, there would be many more trips like that.” He leans forward, links his fingers together while he stares into the water. “My mother was against slavery from the start. She’s what one would call an Extrinsic Enthusiast, or in more degrading terms, a xeno-lover. Father’s and Zimri’s idea to import more slaves goes completely against everything she believed in, everything I believe in. I want freedom for all. I want equality. Social justice. ” He shakes his head. “And now me…with this ship…” His lips disappear in frustration. “It tears me apart.”
Wow. He’s more passionate about equality than I thought even from the beginning.
His chatband flashes and he looks at the screen. “It’s time to go home. It’s getting dark.”
Oh, no. While we were talking, the sun set beyond the horizon and twilight has shadowed the city. But I can’t miss the Renegade meeting. Not without Tarik telling everyone I can read.
“I—I still have to purchase those things at the market for Adeline.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “You’d better hurry, then. The market’s closing.”
I turn to leave.
“Be back before dark,” Kalen says. “The streets of Neket aren’t kind to young Humans like you, no matter who their masters are.”
I nod and walk briskly to the stairs to the bridge, squeezing Luna’s leash like a lifeline.
…
The same Onmarian answers the door, and casts a cursory glance at Luna. “Take her down with you. Can’t risk her barking and bringing the whole neighborhood to our doors.”
I descend the dirt stairs and am greeted with smiles and even a friendly embrace from Cada. I’ve only been here once, but these people already feel like family.
“Gods, it’s hard not to blow our cover in public,” Cada says. Tythoe appears behind her and bows formally to me. “I apologize if I seemed…cold that night at the party.”
I smile my understanding. “We have a secret to keep. No apology necessary.”
“See?” he says to Cada. “At least she gets it.”
Cada rolls her eyes, then links her arm through mine and leads me to the circle. Luna trots up to Tarik and licks his fingers. He jerks his hand away, a look of disgust crossing his usually stoic features as he wipes his hands on his tunic. I sit on the floor beside Tarik and pull half of Luna’s giant body onto my lap.
“Tell me,” Cada says, sitting beside me. “What has Kalen-the-slave-trader been up to lately? Ket keeps complaining about how he never invites her over anymore.”
“He’s building a spaceship to bring in more slaves,” I say, without thinking about how bad it makes Kalen look.
Her eyes widen. “The fugger! Tell Tythoe! This is great news.”
Her proclamation takes me aback, but when the meeting begins, I tell the group about Kalen’s plan to build the ship large enough to import five thousand slaves.
Tarik’s black eyes spark with pleasant surprise.
“Finally!” Giff says.
Tythoe’s eyes are practically glowing with hope. “We’ve been waiting for one of the interplanetary companies to build a spaceship large enough to help a massive group of slaves escape.” He scans the rest of the group. “I’ve one hundred soldiers who will help us during the escape. They are high-ranking men and are skilled with the tarker guns. The plan is to spread the word throughout the slave community. Those willing will meet me and my comrades by the beach the week this ship is ready to fly, and we’ll steal this Rydell ship, head to Earth, and continue building the army that’s begun there. The ship will be useful for future trips as well.” His eyes find mine again. “We need you to hack into Kalen’s desk, figure out when this ship’s maiden voyage is scheduled. We’ll need codes, the ship’s manual, and, of course, the key.”
“Of course,” I say. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” I already got halfway there before Tarik so kindly interrupted me last month.
Tythoe shakes his head in disbelief. “And to think the gods chose you, a reader and a spy, to live in his estate while this all happened.”
I shrug. “Or it could just be coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” Cada places a delicate hand on my shoulder and squeezes it firmly. “I don’t think you quite understand the enormity of your role. Lark, you are our salvation.”