Enemy One (Epic Book 5) (73 page)

“If you wish that I perform this in the medical bay,” Valentin said, “I will do so.”

How could they be on the verge of this after a few days, when Scott had dated Nicole for five years before even popping the question? All that time dating, all that time courting. All that time trying to do things the right way.

And then Nicole died.

Jayden and Esther were practically beaming. “Thank you so much,” the scout said, looking like she was about to start jumping up and down. “This is the most wonderful day of our lives!”

In that moment, Scott realized that he and Nicole were exactly what Jayden and Esther were trying to avoid. Nicole’s death had crushed him—changed him forever. He never got to experience her the way he’d wanted to. Given the situation that Jayden and Esther were in now, Scott was beginning to understand.

“Let’s go get everyone,” Jayden said exuberantly. “We gotta round ’em up! How long you think we’ll need, an hour?”

“How about two?” Esther asked, smiling sheepishly. “I might see if Tiffany can do my hair.”

The Texan nodded. “Okay, cool. I might go take a shower or somethin’.”

“Sounds good! I’ll see you in the med bay in two hours.” She looked at Valentin and smiled. “We’ll see you in two hours!”

Valentin nodded without a word. In the next second, Jayden and Esther were gone, the pair practically skipping away like overjoyed children. Scott and the keeper were left behind in silence.

Scott felt the need to say something—to find some word to break the unsettling quiet. But he found none. Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned to look at Valentin.

“I will need all of these two hours,” the keeper said stoically. “I will see you in the medical bay. Please inform Doctor Shubin of the Ithini’s release.” Without another word, Valentin walked out of the living room and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Now alone by the keeper’s door, there was literally nothing for Scott to do there. Stepping out of the suite, and with a heart as unsettled as it was envious, he made his way for the elevator that led to Level-4.

Esther Timmons. Was that really going to be his scout’s new name? Though there’d be nothing
official
about this, at least in the realm of legal documentation, they were about to be verbally wed by a man of the cloth. In the eyes of God—at least in the perception of those there on Earth—that would be enough to make this legitimate. Why
wouldn’t
she take Jayden’s last name?

That was going to take getting used to.

As Scott filed away to his room, all he could think about was the life he’d been denied. That he’d denied for himself. He hadn’t gone about things wrongly with Nicole. There was no reason to regret the long dating and courtship process they’d undertaken. But there was no reason to question Jayden and Esther’s whirlwind pace, either. There were different approaches for different circumstances. Maintaining etiquette wasn’t easy when you were being chased by everyone on Earth.

Sitting on his bedside, Scott closed his eyes and bowed his head. There was no way he’d make it through a wedding ceremony—as brief as it was liable to be—without the comfort of God to hold him together. It’d rip him apart too much, as fair as that may or may not have been for all parties involved. As difficult as this was going to be, Scott was going to support it. He was going to support his friends. He just needed a little support through it, himself.

The two hours passed faster than Scott thought they would, and before Scott knew it, he was making his way down the halls of
Northern Forge
for the medical bay to see two of his comrades get wed. Only when he arrived there—only when he saw the smiles on the faces of Jayden, Esther, and all of their gathered comrades in the room—did the surreal nature of the situation fade. What replaced it was joy.

As she’d stated she would, Esther must have visited Tiffany. Her disheveled inverted bob had been remolded into a wavy form that would have dazzled on any catwalk. Returning to her tattered, albeit clean little black dress with the pearl earrings and necklace, she looked utterly splendid despite the contrasting conditions of her hair and clothes. She looked ready.

Jayden, wearing a nameless Nightman uniform, simply looked clean—but that was always good enough for a man.

Every member of the Fourteenth and Falcon Platoon was there and alert, with the lone exception of Max, who was still sedated. Even Natalie, much to Scott’s surprise, showed up to witness the ad-hoc ceremony, though Scott was fairly certain it was more out of curiosity than genuine well-wishing.

As predicted, the wedding was not long, with most of it consisting of Jayden and Esther explaining to their comrades in the Fourteenth why this was happening. They explained everything. How life was short. How any day could be their last. How they wanted to live before they died. Most meaningfully, they confessed that neither of them knew what true love was—but that they were eager to find out about it together. It was an honest plea for understanding in the midst of a turbulent time. And it was that honesty, that humility, that won over the Fourteenth. No objections were brought. Jayden asked Becan if he’d be his best man, to which the Irishman joyfully accepted. Esther, in a move that would have been shocking mere weeks ago, named her maid of honor Svetlana, in absentia.

And so right there, beneath the fluorescent lights of
Northern Forge
’s medical bay, in front of witnesses and the dutiful supervision of the base’s resident chaplain and keeper, Jayden and Esther Timmons came into being with a kiss. There was something about the simplicity of it all—the lack of flowers, and photographers, and wedding cake—that almost felt refreshing. It felt surprisingly right.

The sole souvenir from the experience was a single photograph, courtesy of Gavriil Shubin, snapped by a camera with an asset tag. It was anything but formal, with every able observer crammed into the shot between those restricted to medical beds—but the photograph captured them all. Svetlana was even there in spirit, represented by a jar of mustard held up whimsically in Esther’s free hand. It was an informally fitting moment for the hastiest, yet somehow sweetest wedding Scott had ever seen. Jayden and Esther were headed off together into the unknown. There was just something magical about that.

And then, it was over. The bride and groom departed, leaving the merged family of the Fourteenth and Falcon Platoon to go about their business as anything-but-usual. The only thing bearing any semblance to an off-color remark was made after most of the crowd had departed, as Natalie said to Scott rather dryly, “I don’t understand you people at all.”

Scott simply answered, “Give it time.”

Thus, the evening of Wednesday, March 22
^nd
came to a close. It was the first day Scott could imagine that
Northern Forge
had hosted both a wake and a wedding. It was a day about saying goodbye and about starting new chapters. It was a snapshot of death and life. A full circle.

But where was Scott’s circle leading him?

As much as the revelation of Jayden and Esther’s “engagement” had made Scott think of Nicole, the only person he could think about as he’d seen them actually get wed was Svetlana. There was irony in that Esther had been the one to proclaim her the future
Svetlana Remington
. If anything, that name felt more natural than
Esther Timmons
. But Esther Timmons was there, now.

Where was Svetlana?

As Scott returned to his room to retire for the night, thoughts of the blond medic—
his
love—stayed present in his dreams. He longed for her. He missed her. Watching Jayden and Esther get married made him miss her more than ever. Maybe the sniper and scout weren’t so crazy after all. Maybe they had this exactly right. Maybe, just maybe…he and Svetlana would be next.

Stranger things were happening every day.

Location: Unknown

Time: Unknown
 

“TU-SHINNA`KA,” said Nagogg from his captain’s chair. The Bakma chieftain’s raspy voice split through what for some time now had been an eerie silence. Affirming in action only, the Noboat’s pilot, Nik-nish, decelerated the spacecraft until it had come to a full stop—discernable only by the quieting of the Noboat’s engines. Rising slowly from his chair, Nagogg’s sunken eyes narrowed.

From her vantage point on the floor against Nagogg’s chair, Svetlana could only partially make out the actions of the Bakma leader and his crew. Though she knew he had risen, the object of his attention was unknown to her. Straining to turn her head to the side as much as she was able, she tried with little success to see anything on the view screen beyond the blackness of space. Lowering her forehead again, she surrendered to her limited state. Whatever was going on around her, she would have to decipher with her ears.

“Pi’vash targ-nassa!” Nagogg said, excitement pulsating in his voice. Stepping forward, the rider pointed to the view screen with widened eyes.

Again, Svetlana turned her head, and again, she could make out nothing. Lifting her chin from the floor and flinging her hair from her face, she fixed her ocean blue eyes on Ei`dorinthal. The Ithini angled his head toward her. A moment later, the
click
occurred. Svetlana didn’t even wait for the being to acknowledge her.
What is happening?

We have arrived at the Akaarist Quadrant.

The Akaarist Quadrant? Was that where the Khuladi homeworld of Khuldaris was located? Before she could purposefully pose the question, Ed answered for her.

The Akaarist Quadrant is a region of space that has not been fully explored by the Khuladi.

Above Svetlana, Nagogg barked out enthusiastic orders to his crew—orders she desperately wanted to understand. In that moment, she realized a weakness: she was wholly dependent on Ed to understand Bakmanese. At least, to the extent where she could understand it when spoken fluently. She
needed
to learn that language.

Sensing her thoughts, the Ithini addressed her.
You are tempted to siphon once again.

A fear of irrelevance overcame her, not from herself, but from Ed. He was sensing her concern—that she sought the one ability he possessed that kept him crucial: the ability to translate. She sought to replace him.

I need this, Ed. I need to be able to understand what the others are saying without the need for you to be present.
At the core of the Ithini’s being was the desire—the need—to be directed. To serve. It was a desire she was sensitive to.
You must have a master. This, I know. I will still be your master after I know Bakmanese, just as I am your master now. But I need to understand them on my own.

Nagogg seeks to capture specimens from a species the Khuladi do not yet know
, relayed Ed.
He believes this will curry favor from Uladek.

Ed was ignoring her. He was trying to be useful in the hope that she’d move on from another siphon. It wasn’t going to work.
If you truly desire a master, you will adhere to the one that you have. Allow me to siphon again—just once more.
She was well aware of the risks that accompanied another siphon, but this was something she
needed
. If anything happened to Ed, she would be hopeless. She needed independence from him on the language front.
Project me into the mind of Tauthin or Kraash-Nagun. They will be safer.

The Ithini looked squarely at her.
I do not know how to. Your first siphon was unintentional. It was you who determined your destination.

Her frustration was building.
Must I siphon at all, then? Can you implant the Bakma language into me? You said before that this was something you could do.

There exists too many intricacies. Such a feat would require subconscious reprogramming, of which I am incapable.

Then frighten me! Do something to cause me to flee. Do whatever it takes!

There was a pause.
Again, you forget—it was not I who prompted the initial action. I cannot replicate something I did not do.

Now she was catching on. A siphon such as the one that took place with Nagogg couldn’t be done on command. Her mind had to have a reason for disassociating. It had to be terrified beyond comprehension.
I was only linked to Nagogg once, wasn’t I?

That is correct. The initial siphon took place when he removed your nose. All other experiences have been independent.

That meant her other experiences were all from her retreating into her
own
mind, where the echo of Nagogg lurked. This was beginning to make sense. Angling her head a bit, Svetlana listened as Nagogg continued to address his crew.

They are beginning their search for alien signatures
, said Ed.

Though she knew the answer to the question, she asked it anyway.
Can you allow me to hear them without their being aware of it?

I cannot.

This was why she needed to siphon again, by whatever means she could. She needed to hear them independently of Ed.

Her mind was suddenly awash with the pulse of realization—realization that was not her own. Moments later, Ed came to her again.
There may be a solution.

I cannot wait to hear it
, answered Svetlana, half-sarcastically.

You may not require a siphon to attain what you seek.

Narrowing her eyes curiously, Svetlana locked eyes with Ed and cocked her head to the side.
What do you mean?

Recall your first awakening.

After they…?

Ed answered without the need for her to elaborate.
Correct.

Svetlana’s eyes sunk to the floor. Her first awakening had been at Tauthin’s side in the brig after Nagogg had sliced off her nose. She remembered the vision well. She was standing in some sort of cylindrical, metallic tube. A canrassi was there. Nagogg’s ride. Moments later, she was pulled back to consciousness by hands and dark shadows. It was the kind of thing nightmares were made of.

You are recalling the vision
, said Ed.
Recall the awakening.