Unexpected

Oh dear.  So.

My husband's grandfather has just passed away.  My man will be flying out to California on Tuesday morning to help his mother handle her dad's affairs, which means that my Academy post is going to be delayed, probably until Thursday.  I'd try to get it up Monday, but we've got things to prepare before he leaves and time is limited. Sorry, my darlins, but needs must.  I'll still get a post up for you this week.

Grandpa Don was a sweetheart, an excellent gardener and very good to me and my husband.  We'll miss him.

Camellia Release Day and a Contest!

Hi guys!

My contemporary  f/f BDSM novella Camellia, written with Caitlin Ricci and published by Less Than Three Press, is available today.  You can find it here: Camellia.

Some of you may be thinking, what the hell, Cari?  Since when have you written contemporary, or BDSM, or lesbian fic?  Well, since this book, basically.  None of these are subjects I had a lot of experience with before this, but all of them are intriguing, and rolled together into one volume, I think it packs quite a smack to the ass.

Our main characters are Lucy, tea shop proprietor and domme extraordinaire:

And Danny, aspiring model and trained car mechanic:

It's 43k of kinky fun.  If you're interested in knowing more, author and reviewer Anastasia Vitsky had this to say about it: Camellia book review: A Sensuous Tale of F/F Spanking.

Now for the contest part.  I wrote a guest post for Prism Book Alliance today.  Leave a comment there, and whoever gets randomly picked at the end wins any ebook they want from my backlist.  You can find the post here: Cari Z stops by to discuss Camellia.

Okay, I think that's it.  Whew.  Now I have to go write more.

The Academy Post #22

Notes:  Ah, forced interpersonal interactions, so much fun to write.  Ten, what are you up to?  Sneaky person, I barely know what ze’s doing and I write hir.  In other news, my novella Camellia comes out tomorrow—I’ll post about it then, but just a heads up.   Read on, darlins!

Title: The Academy

Part Twenty-Two:  How Insulting!

 

***

 

                By the time club rolled around the next day, Cody felt pretty in control of himself.  A little distance from the incident, plus the news two hours after his meeting with Admiral Liang that Marcys was recovering well and would probably be conscious in another day, did a lot to revive his spirits.  Sharing the news with his quad mates led to an evening of—Cody was reluctant to call it coddling, because the only one with any blatant urges toward mothering was Grennson, and he would have done that anyway, but… There was no other word for it.  Grennson cooked all of Cody’s favorite Perel foods, Darrell sat on the couch and dissected a paraball game with him, and even Ten was mildly solicitous, when ze wasn’t crouched over hir equipment, muttering about timelines and vantage points.

                A talk with his parents that evening was nice, but also provided a source of guilt.  Cody wanted to tell his dads what had happened, but he also knew that if he did, warranted or not they’d be back here the next day.  Cody couldn’t have that.  They had other people, other things to worry about.  He was fine, and he told them that and not much else, and listened to them bicker for a while, and finally relaxed enough that he could fall asleep.  

                Cody didn’t like keeping secrets from his dads, but he’d have to get used to it at some point.  Now was as good a time as any to start.

                When he woke up, it was to see Ten’s furrowed brow an inch above his face as ze attached something to Cody’s ear.  “What are you—ow, ow!”  Cody jerked his head, but the pinching didn’t stop.  “What the hell are you doing?”

                “Getting your vitals, now stop whining and hold still,” Ten snapped.

                “What, you have to draw blood to get my vitals?” Cody demanded, but he stopped moving.

                “The attachment point would be just fine if you weren’t wagging your head like a particularly excitable pet,” Ten said.  “This will just take a moment.”

                Cody opened his mouth to argue, then sighed and shut it.  It wouldn’t do any good to debate Ten this early in the morning about what constituted his personal space; as far as Ten was concerned, Cody had no personal space.  Everything was Ten’s space, and ze occasionally allowed Cody to occupy a part of it.  Still… “You could ask first, you know.”

                “I did ask,” Ten replied blithely.  “When you and I spoke about your naturalism, you gave me permission to look for a way to help you, and this is part of it.  I want to see how your body responds to stress, and there are hormone markers I need to test for at regular intervals.  You didn’t mind last night.”

                “You didn’t crush my earlobe last night,” Cody said.  “You used my finger like a normal person.”

                “I didn’t have all the equipment I needed last night to get all the data I wanted.  Now I do.”

                Cody took in the red tinge in Ten’s eyes and the way hir hand shook a little, and realized what had happened.  “You stayed awake all night.”

                “Inspiration waits for no one,” Ten said.  “I needed to fabricate a prototype, I couldn’t go to sleep.  Stop talking, please, I don’t want your voice to interfere with the readings.”

                “You invented a new machine in a single night?”

                “I didn’t invent this one, I just modified it and made it smaller and more simplistic so that I could make it out of readily available parts.  Now shut.  Up.”

                “What does it do?” Cody asked once Ten finally removed the earpiece, wincing as he rubbed his tender lobe. 

                “It measures brainwaves.”

                Cody gave Ten a half-smile.  “Making sure my thoughts are still as slow and plodding as ever?”

                “Something like that,” Ten replied, hir eyes a little wild as ze stared at Cody for a moment.  Hir hands tightened around the tiny sensor.  “I have to go get some things ready for the meeting.  Go shower, you smell.”

                “I don’t smell.”

                “Your breath is so toxic I feel faint.”

                “Don’t lean so close, then,” Cody said, rolling out of bed.  Ten turned abruptly on hir heel and left, slamming the door behind hir.

                “And good morning to you too!” Cody yelled after hir, then headed for the shower.  Not because Ten told him to, definitely not.  He just liked to be clean in the mornings, that was all.  If he ran his mouth through the cleanser twice, well, that was his business.

                An hour later club was starting, everyone snacking on the cookies Pamela had brought with her and drinking Grennson’s lhossa tea, and it could have been any other meeting except for the way Kyle sat a little closer than usual, and Cody let him.    

“Are you okay?” he’d asked quietly when he first walked in.

“Yeah,” Cody had replied, equally quiet.  “Thanks.”  His hand had twitched a little, wanting to reach out, but he held back. 

“What’s that?” Xenia asked around a mouthful of cookie, pointing to Ten’s corona.

“It’s a traditional Solaydorian circlet,” Ten replied, imbuing hir voice with all the hauteur ze could muster, which was quite a lot.  “I felt like wearing a touch of home today.”

Bartholomew frowned.  “Really?  Because it looks like a—”

Ten held up a hand.  “Don’t say it!  Saying what you’re about to say is a terrible insult on Solaydor, and I’ll thank you not to go there with me.”

Bartholomew looked puzzled.  “But…I don’t get…how could that be insulting?”

“It just is,” Ten sniffed.

“Actually,” Grennson said, stepping in like the perfect diplomat he was, “I would like to learn more about insults.  About things your cultures find offensive that an outsider might not necessarily know.  My human father was as well informed as any outsider could be when he came to Perelan, but he still made mistakes, some of them quite grave.”

“Like how grave?” Pamela asked curiously. 

“He ended up getting into a death match with another House’s duelist,” Grennson said, his quills flattening with memory.  “Both of them lived, thanks to Jason’s mercy, but he was grievously wounded.”

“Oh my.”  Bartholomew’s dark complexion looked a little clammy.  “There’s nothing anyone could do to a Friend that we wouldn’t forgive.  We’re strictly nonviolent.”

“What if someone is violent to you?” Darrell asked.  “You can’t just let that sort of thing go.”

“Violence is never the answer,” Bartholomew said seriously.  “If the offender can be found, he or she is evicted from our colony.  We pray that they find a better way to be, and give our compassion and love to whoever they afflicted.”

“That sounds like a surefire invitation to invasion,” Xenia said, frowning.

“Well, our colony is deep within Federation territory,” Bartholomew explained.  “So we don’t really have to worry about an invasion or…piracy, or something like that.”

“What if there was a war within the Federation?” Xenia demanded.  “What would you do then?”

“I’m sure our Elders would pick the side that appealed to their hearts,” Bartholomew said. 

“Fine, but—”

“How do you insult an Amazon?” Grennson interrupted.  “Just so I know what to avoid.”

It was a bad joke, but it made her smile.  “Well, we’re pretty easygoing.  If you don’t want to insult us, just don’t say anything to us that could be considered insulting.  Don’t offer a compliment unless it’s sincere, don’t expose a weakness and expect us to praise it—” Here she looked pointedly at Bartholomew, who just stared back.  “Don’t ask us to marry you, and we’re good.”

“An offer of marriage is insulting?” Darrell asked, one eyebrow raised.

“We always do the asking.  We won’t be railroaded into anything we’re not ready for.”

“Sounds like a lot of you don’t marry, then,” Ten said.

“What would you know about—”

“What about for you?” Cody asked Pamela, who was calmly eating a cookie and watching the back and forth with interest.

Pamela shrugged.  “The whole psychic thing renders a lot of insults moot.  I mean, we get used to people being suspicious around us, thinking bad thoughts, avoiding us or going after us for it.  We’re all trained in self-defense at a very young age, to help us fend off kidnappers and the like.  You’d be amazed at how much a child psychic goes for on the black market.”

“That’s awful,” Xenia said, her ire at Ten forgotten.

“It doesn’t happen very often anymore, we take a lot of care to stay out of the public eye.”  Pamela sighed.  “Honestly, the worst insult from one psychic to another is looking where you haven’t been invited.  Insults within our own society are felt much harder than those from without.”  She looked at Kyle.  “What about for you?”

“For a Libertarian, or me specifically?” Kyle asked.

“Either,” Grennson said.

“Well.”  Kyle sat still for a moment, elegant as ever, a faint smile on his lips.  “Frankly, there isn’t anything you can do to insult me.”

“Obviously I haven’t tried hard enough,” Ten muttered.

“It doesn’t matter how hard you try,” Kyle said.  “The ultimate shame for a Libertarian of my social standing would be to let on that anything someone said or did to me disconcerted me in any significant way.  Abuse my mother’s past, relish my father’s death, describe how you’d like to kill my brother to my face…it doesn’t matter.  My reaction isn’t something to be shared, whether I’m bothered or not.  Anything else would be vulgar, and a failing.”

“So, you guys are really excellent liars then,” Ten prompted.

Kyle smiled at hir gently.  “The best in the universe.  Only appropriate, since we run most of it.”

“Cody!”  Grennson’s cheer seemed a little forced.  “What about for you?”

“Oh.”  He had to pull himself away from the spectacle between Ten and Kyle and reboot his brain.  “Well, coming from a Fringe planet, I guess it’s insulting to be considered lesser just because I’m not part of the Central System.  Like we’re complete bumpkins just because we get everything a little later than everyone else.”

“You are bumpkins,” Ten said.

“Maybe,” Cody replied, not rising to the bait, “but we don’t like it when you point that out.”

“It’s sort of the same with us,” Darrell said suddenly.  “Not exactly, but in my family, we’ve always been very focused on our personal histories. It’s like every life is a new chapter in the family book, and the subject is never allowed to change.  We’re military through and through, and sometimes that means neglecting new things in favor of keeping up with all our armed services obligations.”

“What have you missed?” Grennson teased, poking Darrell in the shoulder.  “Apart from not even knowing my planet existed until a year ago?”

Darrell frowned.  “You have to bring that up here?”

“I do.  I did.  Have I grievously insulted you?”

“Maybe,” Darrell said, but he was smiling now.  “What if I said your tea tastes bad, what then?  Have I insulted you?”

“Not at all.  If that’s the case, clearly your tastes are imperfect and unrefined,” Grennson sniffed, his quills fluffing up until they stood up from his body like a flag.

“I’ll give you unrefined—”

The rest of club was much more easy going, which Cody was glad for.  Ten didn’t speak again though, and neither did Kyle, but what they didn’t say was almost as loud as what they did.

Someday, someday soon, Cody would have to get to the bottom of what was going on between the two of them.

Loves Landscapes Story Excerpt

Guys, I have been going gangbusters on this story lately.  Probably because I'm running late and was given an extension, and now have to get my ass in gear.  Six thousand words in the past thirty hours, and basically all I've got left to write is the sex scene at the end.  The one with the desk and the...well.

To celebrate my impending prompt fulfillment, I give you an extended excerpt from this story.  Part of it you may have read before, most of it will be new.  Enjoy!

***

Making It Work

by Cari Z

As soon as I got to the office on Wednesday morning, I knew something was wrong. 

For starters, my boss’ door was closed.  The only time he ever closed his door was when he was with a client.  The rest of the time he left it open, because the man had something against his intercom and refused to use it to let me know when he needed something.  There were personal assistants in this building who could go for days without ever speaking to their lawyer in person, just handling errands and delivering files and taking care of business via their computer and the intercom.  Not my boss.  Not Beau Montgomery. 

The second “wrongness” tipoff was the fact that my coffee was stone-cold when I picked it up off my desk.  The three of us had a habit of ordering coffee for each other from the shop down the block depending on who got in first.  That meant Beau usually made the order, but the coffee was almost always still hot by the time I got in.  I looked across the hall at Lorna, who grimaced and shrugged at me.  “It’s been this way since I got in,” she said. 

“And your coffee?”

“Lukewarm,” she said ominously.  “And I got here at seven.”  Lorna’s start times revolved around how much sleep her almost-two year old had gotten the night before, which meant she might be in as late as nine or as early as six thirty.  Once Lorna was awake, she was awake, a trait her daughter Caroline had apparently inherited.

“How is the birthday girl?”

“Happy that her grandma is there to look after her today.  Mark is too, it gave him a chance to sleep in.”  Lorna pointed a finger at the door.  “Back to that, though.  You don’t know what’s up?”

“No.”  I sat on the front edge of my desk and tapped on the lid of my cup as I considered it.  “I left around seven last night.  Beau was still here, but he was getting ready to leave too.”

“The earliest the Starbucks delivers is six-fifteen,” Lorna said.  “He must have made the order as soon as he came in, for it to be blah by the time I got here.  So something happened last night, either here or at home, to make him…”  She considered it, then decided on, “Chilly today.”

Uh-oh, chilly.  Not a good descriptor for the man we both at one time or another called boss.  Beau wasn’t really an effusive guy, but he had a warmth about him, a gentility and friendliness that made him popular with his clients and the other senior partners at Bowman & Sons as well as his staff.  I’d come to work for him with the expectation that I’d be sent back down into the secretarial pool on the first floor after a week, which was what he did with the three candidates for this job just before me.  I had expected someone demanding, unreasonable and possibly misogynistic if the comments from one of the girls who preceded me were true.

Instead I met Beau, who asked me to call him that instead of Mr. Montgomery because, “please, don’t make me sound like my father.”  He was courteous and professional, and warmed up enough to lift me out of the shark pool and make me his personal assistant after the trial week.  In the two years since then, I could count on one hand the number of times he’d left his office door closed in the morning, and one had been because he’d been stuck in traffic during one of Seattle’s freak snowstorms.  Another had been right after the death of a client, so never without a very good reason.

“Check his messages, its’ possible something went wrong with the Davis case,” Lorna advised.  “Or look at his schedule.  Maybe he has to get an emergency root canal or something.”

“The Davis case is a slam-dunk, we’re just waiting for opposing counsel to come back with the signed contracts at this point,” I argued, but I walked around to my chair and booted up the computer.  I could have checked Beau’s schedule on my phone, I had access to his work email and files, but I didn’t feel like squinting at a tiny screen after a late night out.  I stared at my reflection in the dark screen while waiting for it to turn on.  I looked…pretty good.  No bags under my eyes, my hair very deliberately messy, my shirt crisp and pressed.  Not like I’d been clubbing until two am before heading home to get as much sleep as I could cram in before coming in to work.  I loved my job, but I wasn’t going to let my social life suffer because of it, unlike some people I could mention.  Not that I ever would.

“You left Saturday free, right?” Lorna reminded me as I opened Beau’s schedule.  “Year one was bad enough, there’s no way I’m having a birthday party for Carrie with a dozen other toddlers at it without plenty of backup.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said, skimming the appointment list for the rest of the week.

“And you put it into Beau’s calendar?  Because he’s brilliant with corporate mergers but not so good with remembering dates.”

“Yes, I’ve got it.”  There it was, Carrie’s second birthday party in pretty pink text.  If I could have made it sparkle, I would have.  Lorna had been Beau’s longtime personal assistant before taking a year off when her daughter was born, and they were more like family than work acquaintances at this point.  Beau was great with Carrie.  I had watched, with my own stunned eyes, as she squished a grape all over his gorgeous silk tie while babbling at him during a visit two weeks ago.  He had just smiled, cleaned off her hands and gone tie-less for the rest of the day, which I strongly feel he should do more often.  I doubt I could get away with Carrie’s method, though.

I scanned the rest of the schedule for anything out of place.  There was the teleconference with Trident International, there was his meeting with the other senior partners tomorrow, there was Jackson Hughes’ appointment tomorrow…oh, that would be fun.  Jackson was a beautiful man and an incorrigible flirt, and he always came bearing flowers for Lorna and a compliment for me.  He was one of Beau’s oldest clients, and they got along like the proverbial house on fire.  If Beau was ever going to consider dating someone, it would probably be someone like Jackson: handsome, successful, and outgoing.

The rest of his schedule for the week was pretty open, except for—oh, there.  A new appointment with his parents.  They came up from Charlotte every few months, more often in the summer when the weather was better, and they always got together with Beau for a meal while they were here. 

I had never met Beau’s parents, but I didn’t have a sterling opinion of them.  Back when I first started working with Beau and was eager to learn more about him, I’d not-so-delicately broached the upcoming Mother’s Day celebration by asking, “So what would you like me to order for your mom?  Or is that something you prefer to take care of yourself?”

Beau had stopped in his tracks on the way into his office and looked at me.  “What are you talking about?”

“It’s Mother’s Day this Sunday,” I’d said with a smile.  “What would you like to do for your mom?  I always get my mother a pair of baseball tickets, she loves the Rockies.  We used to go to the games together before I moved out here.  What would you like to do?”

“Nothing.”

I stared at him, aghast.  “Nothing?” I squeaked.

“No, Eric.  Nothing.”

“But she’s your mother.”  And I knew she wasn’t dead or anything, I’d already scheduled several lunches for them at _____ on other visits.  “Don’t you want to do something special for her?”

“No.  That’s a fight I’m not about to have again.”  Then he’d walked into his office and closed the door, leaving me confused and feeling like I’d done something wrong.

That was the first time Beau took me out to lunch.  On busy days he ordered in for both of us, but on days he thought he’d been rude, we went out together.  It was a level of consideration I’d never had from a boss before, and just made me more confused with regards to his mom.  Beau was clearly a thoughtful guy, so why wouldn’t he want to do something special for her?  He’d done his best to explain as we fought for a table in one of my favorite cafes.

“I’m not close to either of my parents, I never have been,” Beau said as he waited for his chowder to cool enough to eat.  “They didn’t take my coming out well, or my decision to go into law and not banking.”

And bam, in one fell swoop he’d answered a question I hadn’t quite been nervy enough to ask.  The way he’d gotten rid of his previous, sometimes very hungry personal assistants had suggested that he wasn’t interested in being pursued by the ladies, but that wasn’t enough to make assumptions on.  Then I caught up on the rest of his statement.

“Wait, your parents are unhappy you’re a lawyer?  Isn’t being a successful lawyer the sort of thing most parents pray for when it comes to their kids?”

“I don’t know about most parents, but mine didn’t care for it, no,” Beau had said with a little smile. He was so pretty when he smiled.  “My father managed a hedge fund that I was expected to take over.  I preferred a job that was more honest.”

“And so you became…a lawyer.”

“Trust me, by comparison?  This is much easier on my conscience.”

I had no idea what was involved in being a hedge fund manager, but I’d at least heard of Bernie Madoff.  If Beau didn’t want anything to do with that kind of crap, who was I to say no?  “Well, my mother would freaking love you,” I said to him.  “In fact, she already does because you have, according to her, given my life purpose.”  I loved my mother, but she was such a hippie sometimes.  “She sends me your weekly horoscope.”  And cue my enormous blush.  I hadn’t meant to let that slip.

Beau’s smile got wider.  “How does she know my birthday?”

“I…may have mentioned you were a Capricorn at one point.  It’s the kind of thing she asks, it’s like knowing that your eyes are blue as far as she’s concerned!” I said defensively.  “I’m not sharing anything really personal with her, or anything pertaining to any of your cases, I swear…”

“Eric.”  His voice cut through my imminent babble.  “It’s fine.  Relax.  Eat.”

When Beau told me to do something, I did it.  Not just because he was my boss, either.  There was something about his delivery that just got me, bam, right in the chest.  It made me feel happy to do what he said, which was maybe kind of fucked up but clearly worked for me.  We ate lunch, and he ended up upgrading my mom’s seats from the nosebleeds to practically right behind home plate, which made her wax rhapsodic about Beau’s karma for five straight minutes when I next called her.

More crumbs of information dropped about Beau’s family as time went on, and none of them left me with a great impression.  The little that Lorna shared with me when she came back to work didn’t make Beau’s past any less murky, and I decided not to pry.  Beau was friendly, but he was also my boss, and his past was none of my business.  His parents were nothing more than names on a screen to me, and all I had to do with them was book a table for three at—

Wait.  A table for four?  No, that had to be wrong.  Four people implied that Beau was bringing a date to their dinner, and as far as I knew Beau didn’t date.  He hadn’t in the two years I’d known him.  He didn’t take days off, he didn’t schedule weekend getaways, he didn’t even eat out unless it was for a business meeting or his folks.  So what was this, then?

The Academy Post #21

Notes:  A bit longer than usual today, and we’re digging in a little deeper.  More Kyle this time around, because he’s interesting, damn itJ  Enjoy!

Title: The Academy

Part Twenty-One:  A Series of Unfortunate Events

***

He was alive.  That was the important thing, the only thing Cody could remember to check.  Marcys was alive, Cody could feel his pulse in his neck, irregular but there.

                Hermes was projecting something, but it took Cody a moment to tune back in.  “—response team headed to your location.  My visuals don’t indicate any immediate danger, but you should remain on your guard.”

                “I’ll stay,” Cody said immediately.  He pulled back the camouflage covering Marcys’ head and winced when he saw the fine pattern of burns all over his face.  It was like someone had thrown a net over his head, then set it on fire.  Which was stupid, but…  “What happened?”

                “I am still ascertaining that.”

                “But you saw it, right?”

                “I am still ascertaining that.”

                Something was wrong.  Hermes didn’t prevaricate, he was programmed to be helpful, not obtuse.  Maybe he wasn’t allowed to fill Cody in, or maybe…maybe he hadn’t seen anything.  The thought made Cody shiver.

                “Cody?”

                Cody half-turned in the grass and looked over his shoulder at the newcomer.  “Kyle!”  His whole body flooded with relief.  Kyle was a senior cadet, he was smart, he was calm.  He could help.  “I just found him like this, Hermes is sending a medical team, he’s still alive, but I don’t know what to do for him right now, I don’t even know if I should be touching him—”

                “It’s okay,” Kyle said, coming over and kneeling down next to Cody.  He checked Marcy’s pulse too, then frowned.  “Why can I only see his head?”

                “It’s a type of camouflage he’s working on, it makes him really hard for most people to see, the pattern…there’s something about it evolving and reasons it doesn’t work on—” Almost too late, Cody realized Kyle didn’t know that he was a natural.  “I saw him when I came in earlier,” Cody continued, shifting topics awkwardly.  Kyle didn’t seem to notice, staring hard at Marcys’ face.  “When I came back out he was gone, but I saw scuff marks in the grass that led me over here.  I found him like this.”

                “All right.”  Kyle looked over at Cody, and his eyes were so intense that Cody actually jumped a little as the weight of that stare settled in on him.  “But you’re okay?  Nothing strange happened to you?”

                “Not apart from finding him like this,” Cody replied.

                “Good.”  Kyle’s lips parted, like he was considering saying something else, but then the medical team arrived, and Cody and Kyle were pushed out of the way so that they could do their work.  More people wandered over to gape, and one of them was Phil, who ran to Cody’s side and tried to get closer, her eyes wide with fear. 

                “What happened?” she demanded.  “You never came to meet me, I’ve been trying to contact you for five minutes but Hermes wouldn’t let my messages through, something about you being “indisposed” and still nothing from Marcys…is that Marcys?  What happened to him?”

                “I don’t know,” Cody replied honestly.  “He’s alive, though.”

                Phil blanched.  “There was a chance he could be dead?”  She started to force herself through to his side, and Cody knew he should do something, hold her back or say something that would get her to calm down, but he couldn’t.  His head felt swimmy, like it did sometimes after a really exciting ride on his hover bike, but instead of lifting him up the sensation seemed to drag him down instead, a weight inside his chest that pulled him forward.

                “Sit down,” Kyle said, maneuvering Cody over to the bench.  “Head between your knees.  Take deep, slow breaths with me, okay?  One.”  He inhaled noisily, and Cody just barely managed to copy him.  “And out.  Again.”  He took one of Cody’s hands and pressed it to his chest, inhaling, and that made it easier.  The front of Kyle’s uniform was comfortingly familiar, the press of buttons warmed by body heat smooth against Cody’s palm.  He took deep breaths, and gradually the sick, disconcerting feeling drained away.

                Cody sighed and sat up, but Kyle didn’t immediately release his hand, just looked at him again.  His eyes were a strange blend of pale and dark, light central irises expanding into a thick black band surrounding the color.  Cody vaguely wondered if they were modified for anything.  “Thanks,” he said quietly.

                “It’s no problem,” Kyle replied.  “Adrenaline hits everyone differently.”

                “It’s never made me feel like this before.”  Weak. Cody shrugged uncomfortably and looked down at his lap.  “I’m fine now, I was just…worried, I guess.”

                Kyle finally let go of his hand and set next to him on the bench, close enough that their shoulders touched.  “You had good reason to be.  Finding someone like that would scare anyone.”  Cody shrugged again, embarrassed after the fact.  “When my dad’s ship was attacked when I was nine, I didn’t remember anything from the time the alarm started blaring to when our escape pod was recovered, I was so out of it.”

                That got Cody’s attention.  Kyle had never shared anything really personal before, although to be honest his past was an open book thanks to his brother’s position as President.  Cody knew he’d lost his father at a young age, but… 

                “I know, from looking at security footage of the attack, that my dad put me into the pod himself,” Kyle continued.  “He hugged me and he kissed me goodbye, but I don’t actually remember any of it.  It’s all one big blank.  For a long time I hated the fact that I’d forgotten it, but eventually I came around to accepting that it’s just a physiological response.  There was nothing I could have done at that age to change my reaction, and there’s nothing you could have done differently here to make your response any better.  You got help, you made sure he was still alive…that’s more presence of mind than a lot of people would have under the circumstances.”  Kyle looked away.  “It’ll be easier to deal with next time.  The rush, I mean.  Even terror can be something you become conditioned to handle.”

                “I don’t think I want that,” Cody confessed.

                “No one does,” Kyle said.  “But you’re joining the Federation military, and depending on your specialty you could be sent anywhere, expected to do almost anything.  There’s a lot of stuff out there that we still don’t understand, and even when we do understand it, it can still be brutal.  Exploration, territory defense, mining expeditions...nothing we do is completely safe.”

                Like my dads and Liberty.  The most advanced planet in the Federation, and yet one of the most dangerous places as well.  Cody shivered unintentionally and Kyle frowned.  “Are you still feeling okay?”

                “I’m fine,” Cody assured him.  “I feel fine.”

                “Cadet Helms?”  He and Kyle looked up at one of the Academy security officers, standing in front of them with a grimace on his face.  “You need to accompany us to the administration building.”

                “Can’t you take his statement here?” Kyle rejoined, and Cody was suddenly, breathlessly glad to have someone on his side.  Not that he had done anything wrong, he knew that, but still, it was nice to have the support.

                “Admiral Liang himself has asked for Cadet Helms to come to his office.”

                “You should have started with that,” Kyle said, but he stood up and offered Cody a hand.  Cody took it, even though he was pretty sure he could get up on his own at this point.  They followed the officer to Admin, and he left them at the door to Admiral Liang’s antechamber.  The Master Sergeant was waiting for them there.  He frowned when he saw Kyle. 

                “What have you got to do with this mess, Senior Cadet?”

                “Nothing, Chief,” Kyle replied.  “Just helping out a friend.”

                “Since when have you been friends with random plebes?”

                It wasn’t said maliciously, but Cody still felt the sting of Chief Jessup’s words.  It was kind of true; he wasn’t in Kyle’s specialty or a Legacy.  It was amazing they had ever met at all.

                “Since he beat me on the racing track,” Kyle said.  Jessup’s double take was gratifying, and Cody stood a little straighter. 

                “Well, you can leave him now.  The Admiral will see you in a few minutes,” he said to Cody.

                “I’d rather stay, Chief,” Kyle interjected as the Master Sergeant began to turn away.

                Jessup turned back with raised eyebrows.  “And I believe I just gave you a directive, Senior Cadet.  Your friend will be fine by himself.  Go about your business.”

                Kyle’s mouth tightened a fraction, but his pleasant voice didn’t change at all.  “Yes, sir.  Cody, I’ll see you tomorrow at club.”

                At club…right, Grennson had changed it to tomorrow from today when it became apparent that none of them were going to be completely sober in time.  “Okay,” Cody said.  “Thank you.”  For helping me, for talking to me, for telling me about yourself.

                Kyle smiled brightly.  “It was my pleasure.  Chief.”  He snapped off a salute, then left.

                “Come and sit down, Cadet,” Master Sergeant Jessup said, pointing to a bench.  “It won’t be long.”

                “Yes, sir.”  Cody sat.  The master sergeant sat across from him, but kept working on his holotab. 

                Cody was vaguely aware of the hum of Hermes in his head.  He could feel the activity centered around his implant: someone, or more likely several someones, were trying to contact him.  Hermes was blocking the messages from getting through, though.  He put his hand on the wall and shut his eyes.

                “No chatter, son.”

                Cody looked over at Jessup, startled.  “What?”

                “No chatter, no outside communication of any kind right now.  This room has been secured against it, and Hermes wouldn’t have answered you anyway right now, but you might as well know.”

                “My quad mates might be worried.”

                Jessup snorted.  “Knowing that lot, they probably are.  You can talk to them when you’re done here, about what the Admiral allows you to say.  Until then they’ve been informed that you’re unharmed, so they won’t worry too much.”

                “Thank you, sir.”  Cody sat up straight, not liking the feedback he got when his back touched the wall.  His spine still quivered every few seconds, a tiny tremor, but enough to remind him that just a few minutes ago he’d been having what felt like a panic attack.  He was tired, and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and he missed his dads…Cody clenched his jaw firmly.  He wasn’t about to embarrass himself in front of the master sergeant.

                The admiral’s door opened.  “Go on in,” Jessup said.

                “Yes, sir.”  He went.

                Admiral Liang’s office was festooned with layer upon layer of holo feed.  They looked like different security vantages from around the Academy grounds, and they shimmered lightly as Cody stepped through them toward the desk.  “Cadet Helms.”  Admiral Liang swept a hand, and the footage faded away to reveal his very normal office.  “Thank you for waiting.”

                “Sir.”  Cody immediately breathed easier.  He knew people like Admiral Liang, hell, he was related to people like this man.  Where the master sergeant seemed dismissive, Admiral Liang just felt…competent.  It was like being with Robbie, or Miles.

                “Sit, please.”  Cody sat.  “Cadet, I’d like you to recount what happened outside of Hephaestus today.  Not just finding Marcys, but everything before and after that, anything of note that stood out to you.”

                “Yes, sir.”  Cody went through his morning, from getting Phil’s message and heading out to looking for Marcys outside, and what led to finding him against the wall.  He didn’t hide his naturalism from the admiral; undoubtedly the man already knew about it.

                “Intriguing project,” Admiral Liang said a bit absently once Cody was done.  “And you did just the right thing, contacting Hermes immediately.  Up against the wall…dragged…and there were no other witnesses there, no people standing around you?”

                “None close,” Cody said, then, daring, asked, “Don’t the holo feeds verify all of this?”

                Admiral Liang smiled thinly.  “There was a disruption in the system that Hermes couldn’t account for fast enough.  We lost some of our data.  Please keep that to yourself, Cody.”

                Oh.  Shit.  “Yes sir,” Cody said, a little numbly.  Then, “Is Marcys going to be okay?”

                Admiral Liang steepled his fingers.  “Regen will set him physically to rights in fairly short order, but the particular technique that was used to knock him out did severe damage to his brain.  Our doctors will do their best for him, of course.”

                “He could be brain damaged?”

                “His brain will come back to full functionality,” Admiral Liang clarified.  “But if it was damaged with enough severity, he might have lost a great deal of his memory and motor control.  Marcys will wake up, but there’s no telling what, if anything, he will remember about his life or his education.”  He sighed.  “I’m telling you this, Cody, because I want you to take precautions.  I’m sure your fathers already spoke to you about this, but this is a time of great political fluctuation within the Federation.  I will continue to do my utmost to make this campus secure for all cadets, but no one can guard against everything.”

                “Why Marcys?” Cody asked quietly.  “If someone was after me?”

                “We don’t know that anyone was,” Admiral Liang cautioned.  “Don’t jump to unwarranted conclusions.  It entirely possible that Marcys was the target, or that he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, thanks to his camouflage.  The point in, for right now we simply don’t know.  So be careful.”

                “Yes, sir.”

                “Try not to be out alone.  Keep one of your quad mates with you whenever you can,” the admiral continued.  “You trust them, don’t you?”

                “Absolutely.”  Cody wasn’t sure about anyone else at this point, but he trusted his quad.

                Admiral Liang smiled gently.  “Good.  I’m glad the four of you have worked things out.  Now, Cadet St. Florian is waiting to escort you back to your rooms, and if we let hir and the chief spend any more time together alone, the walls might spontaneously combust.”  He stood up and reached out his hand.  Cody shook, and the firm, warm grip was reassuring.  “I’m always here if you need me, Cadet,” Admiral Liang said.  “Don’t feel like you have to bear any of the weight I know you’re feeling on your own.”

                “Thank you,” Cody said.  “I appreciate it, sir.”

                “Good.  Now, go rescue my master sergeant.”

                Cody managed a little smile.  “Yes, sir.”  He headed out into the antechamber where, true to expectation, Ten was arguing with Jessup.

                “—acting as though this is some sort of official investigation, which is ludicrous on so many levels, because Cody is—”

                “Right here,” Cody interrupted.  “We can go now.”

                Ten eyed him doubtfully.  “No extra tracking device?  No interrogation?  You weren’t tortured in any way?”

                “Oh, for the love of God,” Jessup growled.  “This isn’t the damn Fringe.  Now get out of here.”

                Ten rounded on him again.  “I just have to make sure, considering the Academy is a completely biased feeder of talent and resources into the military-industrial complex of the Federation, which, if you recall, is currently fighting with itself!”

                “Ten.”  Cody set a hand on hir shoulder.  “I’m fine.  I’d like to go home, though.”

                Ten blinked, derailed for a moment.  “Then…we’ll do that.”  Ze scowled at Jessup, then proprietarily looped hir fingers around Cody’s wrist and pulled him out of the office.

                “Are you okay?” ze asked quietly as they left Admin and headed for Hebe.  “All we heard was that someone got hurt and you were there, and they wouldn’t let us contact you and we were starting to get really worried.  Well, Grennson and Darrell were, at least.”

                “Right,” Cody agreed.  “No, I’m fine.  Someone did get hurt, but…”  He sighed.  “I’ll tell you about it in the room, not out here.”

                “Too many eyes?”

                “Something like that,” Cody said.  “That and I’m tired and really want out of this uniform.”

                Ten frowned.  “I thought you weren’t hurt.  You’re acting very strangely, though.”

                “I just got a little upset after the fact.  Kyle was there, and he helped a lot.”

                Ten stopped abruptly.  “Kyle?  Alexander?  Kyle Alexander was there?”

                “Yes.”

                “Why?”

                Cody shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Meeting someone in Hephaestus Tower, probably.”

                “At the exact time you needed ‘help’?”

                “Ten, what are you getting at?”

                Ten stood stock still for a moment, then grabbed Cody and hustled him along faster than ever.  “Maybe nothing.  I’ve got to check something out in our room, and you need to, I don’t know, hydrate, probably.  Grennson’s been cooking, so there’s that.  You’ll be fine.”

                “I will,” Cody agreed.  “I am.”

                For now.