Ari pulled at his arm until he was released and glanced up and down the street to find no one had taken their notice. The crowd flowed around them like a rock in a stream.
Orin frowned down at him for only a moment before turning and heading toward their ship at as rapid a pace as he could manage without breaking into a trot. Unfortunately, this forced Ari to actually break into a trot to keep up. The indignity of this kept him distracted from inquiring as to the rush to vacate the area.
Orin had already brought down the ramp and boarded the ship by the time Ari reached it, barking back a command to close the bay doors and begin takeoff procedures as Ari walked up the ramp.
“Gotta go, now. Faster is better than slower. Hold on to something, sweetheart. This might not be my smoothest waltz.”
Ari hung onto the emergency stabilizing bars surrounding the bay doors as Orin initiated takeoff, lifting the ship from the ground as gracefully as ever. Just as they were able to break atmo without a tremor, Orin broke into colorful cursing, followed moments later by all hell breaking loose.
The ship lurched to the side, internal alarms blaring as Ari ran into the cockpit, careening off the walls as the ship shuddered and rolled.
Orin had already flung himself across the dash to fight the controls with both hands.
Ari buckled himself into the copilot’s seat, trying to take in the clashing lights and alarms filling the cockpit. “What in the stars is happening?”
Orin’s face was tight with strain, creative curses continuing to flow from between clenched teeth. “Delilah’s been caught in a strangle net; can’t get her free. Greasy bastard sold us out.”
Ari watched helplessly as the wildly flashing emergency signals took over the dash, focusing on the insistently blinking red light above the ship’s com. “We are being hailed. Shouldn’t we answer?”
Orin’s hand shot out to stop Ari from hitting the com. “It’s Enforcers. Can’t answer that until we get our story straight.”
Ari’s stomach dropped down to his toes, sweat breaking out across his forehead. “Oh dear. That is not ideal.”
Orin snorted a laugh, amusement glinting across his eyes before they grew hard, determined. He hit the storage panel containing their pistols with the flat of one hand.
“This here ain’t your weapon, understand? You never seen this shit before. You’re an academic explorer who hired my seedy ass; easy to remember cause that’s the truth. You don’t know nothing ’bout nothing. They ask you about the Restricted Sector, you act real scared, you don’t want no part of it, you would never attempt to breach it in your wildest dreams.”
Ari sputtered, hands flailing in panic. “That’s ridiculous, this was all my idea. Of course I shall stand up and take responsibility for any consequence which may ensue.”
Orin’s hand clapped down on the dash with a deafening crack of flesh against metal as the ship docked unsteadily, rocking them in their chairs.
“None of that shit, you hear me? You’re an innocent Core professor and you been taken in by a shifty Verge rat, led astray. Worst-case scenario, they send you home. They’ll be here any second now. You follow my lead and keep your trap shut. And, just in case things go south, it’s been a real pleasure knowing you, Red.”
Ari opened his mouth to ask how likely it was for that to happen when the bay doors screeched open from an external manual override.
Three Enforcers marched in, every movement perfectly synchronized and faces blank above their armored uniforms.
Ari watched in disbelief at the slow grin that spread across his partner’s face, as Orin slowly unbuckled from his seat and moved to stand in the doorway between Ari and the line of Enforcers. His voice took on a mocking lilt Ari had never heard before.
“Well, how do you like that? Hey there, starlight, it’s sure been a while.”
The female Enforcer’s face flashed with fury, her pointed chin rising as she fixed her glare and her weapon on Orin. He continued in his low drawl, completely unfazed by his hostile reception.
“But I forget my manners. Professor, allow me to introduce my wife.”
Chapter Thirteen
Orin woke to the unfortunately familiar sensation of shackled wrists, groaning as he pulled himself out of his uncomfortable slump in the metal chair, shaking the numbness from his legs.
A thick set of mag-cuffs secured his hands in front of him, attached to a metal disk embedded in the concrete table. The shrill scrape of metal against metal grated in his ears as he shifted to take in his surroundings.
Most likely one of the lower-level interrogation chambers, little more than a concrete box. Orin not so fondly remembered the sparse decor. He smacked his mouth, trying to get rid of the cottony feeling that always lingered after a stun ray, and shivered against the persistent cold.
He swiveled his head to find the blinking red light in the uppermost corner, glaring at it for long minutes before blowing an exaggerated kiss.
Nothing for it now but to wait.
His thoughts turned to Aristotle, gut churning as he ran possible scenarios through his mind.
Where was the doctor?
Why had they been separated?
Had they set him free and kept Orin behind to address one or several of his warrants?
That last scenario was optimistic at best.
Still, Orin found himself hoping that Ari remained safe and unshackled somewhere far away from here. Man like that deserved better.
His musings were interrupted by the obnoxious buzzing sound of the metal door sliding open. Two Enforcers strode in to sit straight-backed in the chairs opposite the concrete slab he was tethered to.
He assessed them both, suppressing the unpleasant clenching sensation in his chest as he studied Isolde’s face. Cataloged differences from the last time he had seen her, ignoring the twinge of curiosity over a new scar just above her upper lip.
Her fellow Enforcer was a study in opposites, broad where she was lithe, dark where she was pale. His unblemished skin and watchful eyes were the same deep shade of brown, his black curls cropped nearly down to the scalp. He appeared solid and respectable, posture ramrod straight and face impassive as he returned Orin’s gaze unflinchingly.
He quickly shifted his gaze back to Isolde, her pale hair and skin striking against the blue of her uniform, just as beautiful as she was the miserable, soggy day of their wedding.
Leaning back in his chair, Orin sucked his teeth belligerently, lifted his chin in the direction of the male Enforcer.
“This your new man, little mouse?”
A muscle in her jaw twitched as she glanced at the man at her side and returned her focus to Orin. The glint of silver in her irises pulled at Orin. It was as if he were sinking into the mire of his past.
He hated it.
She inclined her head ever so slightly in the other Enforcer’s direction.
“This is my partner, Enforcer Azu. We are here to ask you some questions regarding the circumstances under which you have been detained.”
Against his will, Orin’s mouth quirked up at the corners as he leaned forward on his elbows.
“Listen at you, girl. You have really made something of yourself. Looks like you did the right thing, dropping me like a shipment of manure three days late for delivery. I ain’t even mad. Good for you. How’d you learn to talk like that?”
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, her gaze slipping to the table between them, focusing on his shackled hands before lifting back to his face.