Torin returned his attention to his portscreen, and Kai sat watching through the window, his heart skipping every time he spotted another ship against the backdrop of space.
Hours passed like days. Kai tried to take a nap, to no avail. He read over his wedding vows without comprehending a word. He paced back and forth, and drank half a cup of tea that someone brought him—except it wasn’t as good as Nainsi would have made, which made him miss his trusted android assistant. He’d come to rely on her practical, no-nonsense conversation, but Levana was adamant that no androids would be allowed on Luna, so he was forced to leave Nainsi behind.
He set the tea aside, his stomach writhing with nerves. He should have heard from Cinder by now. Something had gone wrong, and here he was flying an entire fleet of Earth’s most powerful people right into Levana’s clutches and it would all be for nothing and—
“Your Majesty?”
His head snapped up. The ship’s first mate stood in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“We’ve been hailed by the American Republic’s secretary of defense. It seems they’re having technical issues with their ship’s computer mainframe and have requested permission to board and complete the trip to Artemisia with us.”
Kai exhaled.
“The captain suggests we send one of the military escorts to assist them. I’m happy to put them in touch—”
“That won’t be necessary,” said Kai. “We have the room. Let them board.” Though a dozen province representatives and some journalists from the Commonwealth media were already aboard, the ship was nowhere near capacity.
The officer frowned. “I do believe it’s a matter of security, not space. Due to their technical difficulties, we’ve been unable to obtain a proper ID on the ship or its officers. Their vid-comm is also malfunctioning. Our visual of the ship does confirm it as a Republic military ship, Rampion class, but beyond that we’re forced to take them at their word, and I’m sure I don’t need to remind Your Majesty that … your kidnappers were also in a Rampion.”
Kai pretended to consider his point. “The Rampion I was held hostage aboard had the silhouette of a lady painted on its port side. Is there such a marking on the secretary’s ship?”
The officer relayed the question into a comm-chip on his collar, and a moment later confirmed that no such lady was visible. Only black paneling on the boarding ramp.
“There you have it,” said Kai, attempting nonchalance. “We will accept our American allies on board, assuming their podships are in working order. In fact, why don’t I come down to the dock to greet them, as a show of political goodwill?”
“I’ll come as well,” said Torin, setting his port aside.
The first mate looked like he wanted to object but, after an uncertain moment, clicked his heels together and nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
* * *
Even the waiting room outside the podship dock was luxurious and Kai found himself tapping his foot on thick carpet while machinery hummed in the surrounding walls. The ship’s captain had joined them, waiting to greet their guests before returning to the bridge, and he and the first mate stood with impeccable posture in their unwrinkled uniforms.
The screen beside the sealed doors announced that the dock was safe to enter.
The captain went first, Kai right behind him. There were six of their own podships waiting, and empty spaces for three more. The Rampion’s shuttle had taken the farthest spot and sat with its engines powering down.
The two doors rose simultaneously and five people emerged—America’s secretary of defense, one assistant, one intern, and two security agents.
The captain shook the secretary’s hand, welcoming the newcomers aboard, followed by a series of diplomatic bows.
“Thank you for your hospitality. We do apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused,” said the secretary, as Kai tried to figure out who this was beneath the illusion. He guessed Thorne and Wolf were the security agents, but the glamour being cast for the Republic’s secretary was perfect, straight down to the mole on the right side of her chin. The assistant and intern were equally convincing. It was impossible to distinguish them from Cinder, Iko, and Cress.
“Evidently,” added the assistant, gaze flashing in Kai’s direction, “this all could have been avoided if the ship’s mechanic had remembered to bring a pair of wire cutters.”
Kai’s mouth twitched. That one, then, was Cinder. He tried to imagine her beneath the glamour, smug over her use of their new “code word.” He refrained from rolling his eyes at her.
“It’s no inconvenience at all,” said Kai, focusing on the secretary. “We’re glad we could be of assistance. Do you need us to send anyone to retrieve your ship?”
“No, thank you. The Republic has already sent a maintenance crew, but we didn’t want to be delayed longer than necessary. We do have a party to get to, you know.”
The secretary winked, very un-diplomat-like. Iko, then.
Remembering Cinder’s warning—that it would be tiring for her to not only glamour herself but also manipulate the perception of her four comrades, and she didn’t know how long she’d be able to maintain it—Kai gestured toward the exit. “Come with me. We have a sitting room where we’ll all be comfortable. Can I offer you some tea?”
“I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks,” said one of the security personnel.
Cinder-the-assistant cast a cold glare at the man. Thorne.