Free Endgame by Kristine Smith Page A

weak excuses. Just to see how hooked you were.” They came upon a small sitting area wedged between two houses, and she stopped and sat on a stone bench.
    â€œI passed that test.” Val unfastened his shirt collar, then bent over a tiny fountain and let the water spray over his face. “I wasn’t a complete idiot.”
    Jani nodded. “He figured that out. So when you told him that you were leaving to visit John, his request to accompany you was completely businesslike. Being under orders fromMako himself, he claimed billet privileges, then left you to mull it over. He knew he had you backed in a corner—what could you do but agree? You already suspected that Cao didn’t trust you, that her summons was a warning to you as well as to John. It worried you what might happen if you added to your troubles by tossing out Mako’s chosen rep on his perfectly formed ear.”
    Val dragged a linen square out of his trouser pocket and wiped his face. Then he sat beside her and sighed. “Jani—”
    â€œPressure points, Val. Weakness. Like I said before, he has a talent for spotting them.”
    â€œHe’s not the only one,” Val said through his teeth.
    Jani hesitated. “Now, the chorus. He had set you up so you had to cart him here or risk appearing disloyal. So, cart him here you did. He should have been content, you’d think, but this is Lucien we’re talking about. You had rejected his advances up to that point, and that was a situation that could not be allowed to continue. Even engineered sociopaths have their pride.”
    â€œThere are only so many places to hide on a ship, and none of them works for long.” Val spoke low, as though to himself. “Every damned time I turned around, there he was. His favorite trick was to catch me in the gym locker room or sauna, wander in stark naked and pretend to be surprised to see me. ‘I’m so sorry, Doctor Parini—I didn’t realize you were here.’ Yeah, right.”
    Jani grinned in remembrance. “A bit obvious, but a tried and true method with some history of success.”
    Val returned her grin, but the expression withered. “After a few quiet days, I thought he had finally gotten the message. Then one ship-morning, about three weeks out, he showed up at my cabin door with a copy of whatever newssheet had been transmitted that day. He was fully clothed, believe it or not. A little rough around the edges, actually. Tired. Distracted. As though he’d given up.” He paused, his eyes clouding.
    â€œHe handed me the newssheet,” he said after a time. “I took it. I said ‘Thank you, Captain Pascal,’ and he replied,You’re welcome, Doctor Parini.’ We—” He stopped again, inhaling with a shudder. “We just stared at one another. Might have been for a minute or so. Might have been an hour for all I could tell. Neither of us said a word, we just…” He swallowed hard. “Then he stepped inside, let the door close behind him. Took the newssheet from my hand, folded it, and set it atop a nearby table. Then he—” He closed his eyes, lips parting ever so slightly. His breathing quickened as his hands clenched and flexed, twisted the linen until it tore.
    Then his eyes snapped open. He shook his head as though emerging from a daze and sat forward, elbows on knees, hands dangling between. “You’re going to tell me it was an act.” He examined the damage he’d wrought upon the linen square, then wadded it and shoved it in his trouser pocket.
    â€œIt’s all an act.” Jani put a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, it’s better when you accept it. It makes him a known quantity, with no surprises. A certain brand of simple comfort when the real world becomes too complex to deal with.”
    Val’s lip curled. “Aren’t you the understanding one?” He fell silent for a few moments, then sat