She shook her head slowly, perplexed. “Ei’Brai, I won’t let that happen.”
“I’m gratified that your intent is unadulterated, but I’m less certain that this pledge is truly within your dominion. A brief appearance in your skies, messages to your many governments with all the necessary information is in order—in your own words, with your reassurances—that will more than fulfill that portion of the mission.
“Eventually another diplomatic ambassador will be dispatched from the Unified Sentient Races to your world, assuming the coalition still exists—that will permit a more equal footing, less risk to any single individual, such as myself. Certainly you can see that logic dictates we must proceed immediately to Sectilius for a full investigation into the genocide of the Speroancora Community, to discover the extent to which the fleet has been affected, Sectilius itself, or if this was an isolated event. Now that the ship’s binary systems recognize the presence of a Quasador Dux, there is nothing to keep us here. The time has come. We are much delayed.”
“Nothing to keep us here?” she asked, incredulous. “What about the illness that killed your crew? Are Walsh and the others going to infect Earth with it? What about Compton? Is he contagious? I’m not just going to sit back and ignore all of that and let you zoom off into space!”
“It is improbable they are infected. Far less likely that it will be capable of replication in any meaningful way. Contagion is highly unlikely.”
“Improbable? Meaningful? Highly unlikely? You mean you don’t know? I can’t gamble with their lives that way. I will not gamble with Earth that way!”
“Commander Mark Walsh chose not to step onto the diagnostic platform. That was his election and does not affect you. You have not been infected. Nor has Dr. Alan Bergen.”
Again, certainty.
Jane stood resolute before him. “I’ve trusted you. Now you must trust me. We should go back to Earth, bring our best scientists onboard. I’ll teach them Mensententia and we’ll deal with this thing, whatever it is. Then, we’ll talk about Sectilius. Decades have passed since the attack—a few more months will hardly matter in the greater scheme of things. I’m certain there will be volunteers for that kind of mission—people far better suited to the role of Quasador Dux than myself! I’ll be careful. I’ll be adamant with my government. I’ll be strong. I won’t let them bring anyone on board that I don’t trust.”
“This is not a negotiation.” His voice had suddenly taken a different tone, resonated on a different frequency.
She felt small stirrings of unease in her belly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I possess the power of eternal night—the balance between dusk and dawn for your Dr. Alan Bergen.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest. She felt weak.
His finger was on the trigger. If she didn’t agree to his terms, he would end Alan’s life.
Jane backed up a step and shook her head. Panic rioted through her. “You can’t be serious! Why would you resort to that? You’re insane!”
He was extremely agitated. The sensation of barely leashed power that she’d felt from him early on pervaded her perception of him again now. His arms were whipping and swirling around him. He inhaled through his mantle, exhaled through his funnel more rapidly than seemed to be necessary, and this required tense countermeasures to maintain his place in the water opposite her. His mental touch was shielded, though. She had a hunch he might be bluffing, but she couldn’t be sure.
He sounded contemptuous, his voice vibrating louder inside her head than it ever had before. “I am rational. You are allowing yourself to be motivated by fleeting emotional states, instead of by reason. Elimination of this individual would free you. I am needed elsewhere, immediately. You and I are bound to this mission. This supersedes your paltry desires for intimacy.”
She stared at him, open-mouthed, outraged that he was so dismissive of Alan’s life. Her voice cut like a knife through the air, so angry that she had to speak out loud. “He is more to me than that and you know it.”
Ei’Brai growled, “I have not waited this many solar cycles to find my end, desiccating and bleeding in your primitive surgeon’s theatre. I am far too valuable an individual to meet dusk in such a manner.”
Her voice also dropped to a lower register. “Alan is equally valuable to me, to the people of my world. Be careful where you tread, Ei’Brai, or I may just let the asteroid give you this dusk you speak of.”
But he was going on as if he hadn’t heard her, “In fact, one session with a Sectilius mind-master would relieve you of these insecurities, allow you to embrace your inner desires, fully transmute you into the commanding individual you are meant to be.”
She was afraid to force his hand. “I’m fine how I am. Stop this charade. You’re bluffing.”
“Am I?” Ei’Brai sputtered. Then a wall came down and a crashing torrent of experience broke through—she was gasping and choking inside the gel—except it wasn’t her. It was Alan.
She fled to the controls that had freed her just hours before, looking for the command that would give Alan the air he needed, but Ei’Brai was concealing them from her, masking everything so it seemed like gibberish.
She refused to give in to panic.
Withdrawing from him in a rush, she came back fully back into herself and severed the link between them. She turned on a dime and strode back down the gantry, ordering the helmet closed as she went. Eleven swift paces to the left, she stopped at a precise point and raised her arm. The blast cannon would discharge with a mere flicker of thought.
Her teeth ground together in defiance. She turned the helmet to face him with a servo-motor whir.
“Your life support lies behind this wall, Ei’Brai. If you dare to hurt Alan, I will destroy that equipment and you will suffocate—not as quickly as Alan, but you will suffocate, nonetheless—while I watch.”
“You may injure yourself in the process. You will be stranded here,” he said warily.
“I don’t care,” she uttered with deadly certainty. She wasn’t bluffing. She’d do it. She’d kill him if he murdered Alan.
She sensed an easing of Alan’s distress and allowed herself to take a long, relieved breath.
She felt the need to press her advantage, to challenge him. He wanted her to lead, but then gave her ultimatums to force the issue? It sounded like an antagonistic maelstrom in the making, not a peaceful working relationship at all.
Was she actually considering taking him up on his offer? Did she really have a choice?
“Ask yourself, Ei’Brai—am I your enemy or your ally? Do you trust me as your Quasador Dux—or is this mutiny? Confirmed mutineers on this ship receive the death penalty, under Sectilius law.”
She wasn’t precisely sure how she knew that, but she did know it and it was damn useful information.
Ei’Brai’s gaze was unwavering. His limbs slowed. His voice was solemn. “Does this mean you accept the appointment to the rank of Quasador Dux, Dr. Jane Holloway?”
There was gravitas in this moment. She knew it.
Instinct told her that her life had been spent barreling toward this moment. Every decision she’d ever regretted, she’d agonized over. There was no time for that now. She had to take the upper hand somehow. She had to trust her gut. She barely hesitated. “I do.”