Aftermath by Ann Aguirre Read Free Book Online Page B

against the back of her seat. Her whole body relaxes visibly. Since she knows Dina is all right, and Vel has answered most of our questions, she seems content to let me do the talking.
    “How long before we reach the ship?”
    “Half an hour.”
    I have the unmistakable feeling there’s something he’s not telling me, and my foreboding mounts. “Okay, out with it.”
    “Admirable though your intentions were, the cost to your standing was . . . considerable.” He pauses, as if he doesn’t want to continue.
    This so isn’t like Vel that I’m starting to worry; I didn’t think about the consequences beforehand because, honestly, I didn’t imagine I’d be around to face them. Then, afterward, I realized I had to come back to warn everyone—that my farewell message to March wasn’t specific enough to explain the danger.
    So here I am. It sucks when your blaze of glory turns into a small sputter.
    Hit cracks an eye open, her muscles coiled with the lovely danger she can bring with the flick of a fingernail. Literally. “If we hadn’t gone, they’d be counting their casualties in planets instead of ships.”
    “I am aware,” he says to Hit, then addresses me. “But your reputation precedes you, Sirantha.”
    “I don’t like the sound of that.” A sigh escapes me.
    “Since you made this decision on your own, it has been determined you must account for these lost lives.”
    The hub seems too small, not enough air, and the foreign design only amplifies my sense of alienation. I’d known when I chose to act on my own that it might come to this. I swallow, my throat tight. Seems like I’m right back where I started, only this time it’s my fault. I did it. I made the choice, and soldiers died. There are no excuses that can whitewash the truth, though there is merit in what Hit said. Sometimes, though, they need someone to shoulder the blame. For obvious reasons, the families who lost sons and daughters want to know why—this is the worst disaster to occur in grimspace in more than a hundred turns. It’s supposed to be a safe way to travel now; we’re a century beyond the terrible mishaps that marked our interstellar learning curve.
    I take a deep breath to steady myself against the sudden fear I’ll die, not in grimspace, but in a prison cell, and this time, there can be no daring rescue, no righteous flight against the oppressive authorities. “So I’ll be taken into custody when we reach the Dauntless . What are the charges?”
    “Dereliction of duty, desertion, mass murder, and high treason.”
    That hits me like a brick in the head. My vision goes spotty, and I lean forward in the harness, battling nausea. Hit touches me lightly on the shoulder, but she doesn’t try to reassure me. I’m in deep trouble, and there may not be any dodging this shot. Furthermore, I’m not sure I deserve to be exonerated. It occurs to me that this could be construed as capture on Vel’s part—the second time he’s hunted and caught me—and not a rescue at all. This time, though, I won’t try to elude him.
    “Will there be a trial?” Hit asks.
    “Certainly. Commander March has instructions to deliver Jax to New Terra, so formal hearings can begin.”
    “Do they realize they need me to train the jumpers on the new beacons?” At least that means they shouldn’t execute me on the spot. In fact, I have to deliver myself for criminal proceedings to begin, if I want to move forward in teaching the rest of the navigators how to interpret what I did to the beacons.
    “Chancellor Tarn made it clear you are not to be harmed,” Vel says.
    I fall quiet then, weighing what kind of greeting I’ll receive from March. Those thoughts carry me through the atmosphere and out into the stars; they expand endlessly around us. Docking procedure doesn’t take long, and Vel leads us back down the corridor toward the hatch. The Ithtorian skiff is small enough to fit inside the Dauntless , though it’s larger than a shuttle, and I