Kidnapped (25 page)

To Patricia, his voice seemed to come from some place far away, and the muzzle of the gun looked enormous. Garth ran a hand over his face, "No. No, I'll do the same thing to you that you did to me. I'll kill the only thing you care about, right in front of you."

He must have gone insane from brooding over his long lost family. It was understandable, she supposed, but didn't mean she wanted his breakdown to occur anywhere close to her and her loved ones. Over to the side Aaren too was getting to his feet, saying firmly, "Stand Down, Garth!"

The large man glanced over toward his old friend, and that was enough for Travis to be able to move between his girl, the child she carried, and the deadly threat. He said, still in a very calm and reasonable voice, "I'm sorry I don't remember your family. If you say I killed them I probably did, but it must have been a long time ago, and whatever I did in the past has nothing to do with her. It's me you want, not her."

In that moment, the door slid open, and William entered with Madison peeking over his shoulder. It was all the distraction Travis needed. Even with one hand, it only took him a moment to relieve the would-be murderer of the gun, put the safety on and toss it to Aaren. Garth looked down at his hands, slowly, as if wondering where the weapon went, and then he jumped Travis with a roar, sending him backwards on the floor.

The attack only lasted for about five seconds, until Garth felt the muzzle of his own weapon press against his neck. William sighed and grabbed his crewmember's arms, pulling him backwards out the door, and Patricia jumped out of the chair, throwing her arms around her lover, who had already gotten back on his feet, asking eagerly, "Are you alright?"

He held her, and answered the same thing he always did, "Don't worry about me, Sweetheart."

Aaren stared at the weapon and asked curiously, "Were you really going to let him shoot you?"

Travis shrugged, replying simply, "If it was necessary. Better me than them."

*****

When Garth found himself in the brig, the mists in his mind cleared somewhat, and he pleaded, "No Bill, don't do this to me."

William looked at him and replied firmly, "I don't want to, but you haven't given me a choice."

Garth shook his head, and William was surprised to see tears in the large man's eyes. "You don't understand. I can't be on my own. I go crazy on my own. I need you to take care of me."

His Captain sighed and ran a hand over his face. He knew what it was like to be haunted by personal nightmares, by memories that seemed so real it was difficult to distinguish them from the present, and he supposed in a way he had been anchoring Garth to reality during the last few years. When he spoke, his voice was kind and patient. "Garth, I can understand you can't forgive Travis. I don't ask you to do that, and I don't know if I would have been able to either. But you tried to kill Patricia, and she's one of our own."

His friend shook his head, and William pointed out, more bluntly, "Your hatred for him takes over, you can't see the difference between right and wrong anymore. He hurt you, but that doesn't mean you can kill an innocent woman."

Still shaking his head, Garth grumbled, "Not innocent, she's not innocent, she's with him, she's been with him all along," and for the first time William didn't just feel sorry for him; there was something so obsessive in this chant that it was frightening. He hadn't realized earlier on his friend had, in a way, gone insane. "Look, you will have to stay down here as long as they're on board, and quite frankly, I have to think about whether I should keep you on or not. I can't have people on this ship I can't trust."

When he returned to the bridge, William called to a meeting with his little crew, giving them the outline of what just happened. He realized they already knew. Aaren had told them, and his recapitulation made Travis sound like a hero, but telling them himself made him feel better and more focused. Finally, he looked flatly at them and said, "This isn't a democracy, it has never been, but we have a couple of difficult decisions to make that truly concern us all. Travis has been an enemy to all of us, I personally don't think he is anymore, and I'm considering giving him access to the ship. How many agree with me?"

Madison raised her hand without hesitation, and Isabela glanced between her husband and her friend, and decided to go with their decision.

Aaren leaned against the wall and raised his hand, and only Vasiliy hesitated. Aaren said, "Come on, are you still afraid of him?"

Vasiliy also raised his hand and the decision became unanimous.

William nodded. "Good. Thank you. The next problem is what to do with Garth. We all owe our lives to him. He has saved each and every one of us more times than one."

He took a deep breath before going on; this was more difficult than he'd expected it to be. "Still, he disobeyed my direct orders, and tried to murder a person in our care. I have been debating with myself, and I think he will have to leave the ship. I am, however, unwilling to put one of us out in the cold without hearing your opinions."

Isabela exclaimed, "Bill, is that really necessary?," and Aaren replied in a detached voice, "It's for the good of the rest of us. He tried to kill an unarmed girl and a child to extract revenge, would you be able to trust him again in battle? When your own life depends on him?"

They didn't reach a conclusion to the problem, but Aaren's words were an exact mirror of William's thoughts, and he knew he had already made up his mind.

Chapter Twenty-Five

During the upcoming days, Travis didn't use his privilege to roam around the ship much. He was slowly learning to appreciate other people's company, and he did go with Patricia to meals and when she wanted to see someone, but other than that he mostly chose to stay in the room. He could remember when learning about the technology of this alien ship had been a burning need, but it had been the Alliance's need, and not his own. When allowed to think for himself, he couldn't care less about it.

Patricia was enthusiastic though, and her energy made him smile. She pulled him along the long corridors to show him something that fascinated her, babbling happily, "Isn't it great that William trusts you? I knew you'd become friends. Come on, time for a snack."

He followed her obediently into the mess hall and sat down, watching her rummage around and plop random things into her mouth. "You need some chocolate."

Behind them, William said, "He needs a whiskey is what he needs."

Travis had heard the door open and wasn't surprised, but Patricia jumped at the unexpected voice. She sounded uncertain, "Are you sure?"

William laughed, "Yep. But you, young lady, can't have any."

So it was that Travis got properly drunk for the first time in his life. When the rebel leader, also very intoxicated, asked, "What I don't understand is what possessed you to let her out of the cell in the first place. It doesn't seem very Alliance-ish," Travis answered honestly, "She was so small, and cute, and vulner, voliner, volinable."

He couldn't say the word vulnerable no matter how hard he tried, and when he tried to declare that he should probably stop drinking, the rebel leader just laughed.

*****

Travis knew William wanted to put some good distance between them and the place where the ship had been destroyed, even if it meant taking a detour. It was only possible to track the signature from a ship's engines for a fairly short amount of time, and making sure they got a clean getaway was worth some extra travel. Thus, it took another couple of weeks before they reached their destination.

Travis didn't mind the delay. He knew Patricia didn't want to leave the relative safety of the Redeemer, and she needed the break after everything she'd been through. He felt guilty for making her leave at all, but knew they couldn't stay.

When the day did come and they stood side by side on the teleporter pad, he saw tears well up in her eyes, and promised himself there would be a day when he'd no longer have to make decisions forcing her to cry. She clutched his hand and he smiled encouragingly. All goodbyes were said, and it was time to go.

William raised a hand in a goodbye wave, and Travis saw Madison bite her lip. He suspected they were as fond of Patricia as she was of them, and if everything went well, they would never see each other again. Then, the image shimmered away as the computer dissolved the matter in their bodies, their very hearts and souls, and a moment later, a blank metal wall came into view. They were on station 74522.

On the station, Travis exhaled and looked around. There was something unnerving about a computer dissolving a person's molecules and putting them back together again, and he had worried about it somehow getting Patricia and the baby mixed up. She seemed okay though, and he hoped for the best.

They were in a closet and they were alone, so no one had seen them arrive. So far so good. He had grown a short beard, and with the worst parts of his face fixed, he didn't really resemble the infamous Travis 152 at all. Missing an arm was an easy give-away, of course, but he hoped to have that taken care of before they met anyone from the Alliance.

Glancing over at Patricia, he thought they were as inconspicuous as could be. She had cut her hair, Isabela had helped her color it darker, and she was wearing Madison's clothes, which helped make her look quite different. Veronica would recognize her at once, but he doubted anyone else would.

He bent down to kiss her cheek, making sure she was ready, and took a step forward to open the door. He didn't hesitate. Training and experience had taught him that if you looked like you knew what you were doing, looked like you had the rights and authority, people wouldn't question it. Patricia had laughed softly when he told her this, and replied she'd once read a book called, "You don't need experience if you've got attitude."  The memory made him smile; this planet of hers intrigued him.

Just as he expected, no one even blinked when he shoved the door open and exited into the corridor. He wanted to tell Patricia to stay close, but swallowed it down. She knew and she would, and nagging wouldn't do any good.

They were on their way to find a hotel and they sure needed a room to hide in, but after they'd passed just a few rows of stores, he veered off into a coffee shop. He didn't know why at first, it was just a feeling of danger, and then he realized it was the sum of many little signs from the people around them.

He sighed when gazing at the extensive menu hanging over the counter. It made him feel helpless; he had never had to deal with things like this in his old life. Still, he just let a shadow of a smile tug at his lips as he asked, "Want anything, sweetheart?"

She looked uncertain, and he felt her big eyes search his for an explanation, but he couldn't offer one. He winked at her, trying to encourage her, and she squinted at the menu, saying the word for something he had never seen before. He was grateful she trusted him enough just to go along with his hunches, smiled sunnily at the girl behind the counter, and told her to make it two.

There were many people moving in and out, and Patricia balanced their mugs over to a little table. She seemed much more at home in there than he felt and he wondered if the place had any similarity to anything on her planet. Once seated, she smiled and asked, "What's up?"

Looking at his mug, he lifted it up and smelled the contents before tasting it, and then he looked into her eyes and answered thoughtfully, "Nothing."

He could see she didn't believe him, and when her eyes darted over to the window, he found an excuse to glance over his shoulder. Two men in black uniforms were strolling by outside. Looking back at Patricia, she lifted an eyebrow, and he gave his head a slight shake. She sipped her coffee and commented lightly, "This was a lovely idea, I really wanted coffee."

Travis still heard their footsteps. The sound was rhythmic enough to stand out over the background noise from more ordinary people, and when she put her mug down, he answered in the same light tone, "I know."

He rose up just enough to reach over the table to kiss her cheek and whisper, "Are they gone?" in her ear. She mouthed, "Yes," and kissed him tenderly. No one paid any attention to them.

When Patricia had finished her mug, Travis had hardly touched his, and she asked humorously, "I take it you don't want another?"

He frowned. Up until now, taste hadn't meant anything to him, but there was something about the contents of this mug. "I don't think I like it."

She put her hand on top of his and gave it a little squeeze. "You know, not liking something is as much progress as actually liking it. Hey, I'm hungry. Want something to eat?"

They stayed in there for almost an hour; there was safety in the crowd. When they eventually did leave, Travis bought a few treats on the way out. He gave Patricia the paper bag, thinking she seemed to get hungry all the time.

*****

They got to the hotel without seeing anything more suspicious or threatening, and the clerk at the front desk hardly even looked at them. He seemed tired and uninterested. Patricia was still relieved when they actually had a room and were in it, with the door closed between them and the rest of the world. All this stress couldn't possibly be good for the baby. It was difficult to keep calm even though she did her very best, and there wasn't much she could do about their situation.