Hijacked by Lolita Lopez
Chapter Sixteen
The ache in Camila’s chest grew more painful as Kirs loomed larger and larger in the window of the space patrol ship that had picked her up only a few hours earlier. Sara’s radar shielding had worked exactly as promised, and Camila’s escape pod had skated through numerous mercenary and bounty hunter dragnets without detection. Other spaceships hadn’t been so lucky.
Her stomach lurched with guilt as she wondered how many of those ships she had passed had been carrying cyborgs or civilians related to them. Returning to Kirs had been the only way she could see to avert disaster, but she was beginning to understand that her sacrifice might not be enough. The long hours of loneliness in her pod had given her plenty of time to think about all the possibilities that awaited her.
More and more, she worried the emperor would find some new way to use the hijacking and her kidnapping and escape for his benefit. She was torn between protecting Misko, Sara and all the others she had left behind and shielding Willa and her father from the emperor’s fury.
What do I do?
“Ma’am?” A patrolman interrupted her troublesome thoughts. “We’re preparing for re-entry. Please fasten your safety harness.”
She nodded and did as he instructed, tugging her belt tight around her hips and plugging the various latches into the buckles running vertically down her torso. These aircrafts were older with extremely high light years on their odometers. Maintenance was shoddy at best. Being thrown around the cabin if a thruster failed was the last thing she wanted to experience.
Re-entry proved to be as jarring and rough as she had expected. The amount of heat building up in the cabin worried her, and she cast anxious glances at the walls of the ship. How many times had this aircraft plowed through the atmosphere? How many more heat cycles could the shielding handle?
When they finally hit smooth air, she released her white knuckled grip on the armrests. A patrolman reached over from his seat and wiggled a package of wet wipes in her face. She took them with a grateful smile and mopped away the perspiration caused by her panic and the intense heat of a poorly shielded re-entry.
Frustrated that these patrolmen had to make do with such crappy equipment, she added another entry on her mental to-do list. Ask Father to use his influence to get the space patrol more funding for maintenance and newer vehicles.
In no time at all, they had landed at the main space patrol station in the capitol. The lead patrolman glanced back at her with an apologetic expression. “The media is here. They’re swarming like vultures on carrion.”
“Great,” she muttered. She quashed her first instinct to fix her hair and clothing. She needed to step off the ship looking like absolute hell to sell her story. Considering the trip she had survived to get here, that wouldn’t be hard. As much as she had cried over the last few days of lonely space travel, her face was still puffy and her eyes red and raw.
When she stepped out of the vehicle, she realized it was night. Space travel made it hard to keep track of days and nights, especially when crossing systems. High on the rooftop tarmac, she recoiled at the blast of muggy, smelly air. The difference between filtered, perfectly humidified air in a space ship and this polluted stink was startling.
Before she had processed the environmental change, bright flashes from multiple cameras blinded her. She held up a hand to cover her eyes but it was useless.
“Camila!”
Her hand dropped at her father’s voice. There was an edge to it she hadn’t heard since the night their mother was killed. Still unable to focus because of all the flashes, she gasped when her father’s arms suddenly wrapped around her. He lifted her off the tarmac, crushing her against his chest. “Oh, Camila! Princess! You’re safe!”
Stunned by his show of emotion, she rubbed his back. “I’m home, Father. I’m home.”
He set her down and pressed her away just enough to see her face. His stormy expression surprised her. Even though he had always been a perfectly adequate parent, he had never been particularly good at open displays of affection. Tonight, though, that emotional mask he normally wore had slipped, and he allowed her to see what he truly felt.
The constant flash of the cameras seemed to shake him free from his moment of vulnerability. In the next instant, he waved over the bodyguards who always surrounded him. The heavily armed men and women shoved aside the media, clearing a path across the tarmac and to the waiting elevator. Once they were inside, six of the guards shielded them from the prying eyes of the media. Their shouting voices and rude questions were drowned out as the doors closed. Camila leaned back against the wall of the elevator and squeezed her eyes shut.
“A week ago, you would have been thrilled by all that attention,” her father quipped.
“A week ago, I was a stupid little rich girl who thought all of that mattered,” she murmured. When she opened her eyes, her father studied her with a strange look on his face. Something passed in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. That flash of something vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving her to wonder if her father suspected things weren’t quite as she had claimed.
The elevator arrived at the main floor of the station, and the guards stepped out to clear the way again. A pair of government officials pressed forward, demanding that she be taken into a room for questioning and a debriefing, but her father refused.
“Sir, the emperor was quite clear that—”
“The emperor and I spoke privately only minutes ago,” her father interrupted in that imperious way of his. “He assured me that his main concern was for my daughter’s safety. Camila will be coming home with me to rest and recover. Tomorrow, if she feels up to it, she will visit the palace to speak with the emperor himself.”
Without allowing the government officials to argue, her father swept them aside and urged her to move forward toward the exit. Once again, the guards cleared the way. Camila held tight to her father’s arm as they left the station. She stumbled halfway down the stairs outside, but one of the guards caught her before she fell. He carefully shifted her upright and held onto her the rest of the way to the idling vehicle waiting for them.
With the guard’s help, she slid onto her seat. Her father slipped in on the other side. The rest of the guards piled in, and the driver sped off into the night. Startled by the feel of her father’s hand reaching for hers, she stiffened and then relaxed as he took hold and squeezed. The way he had interceded on her behalf, protecting her from questioning, furthered her belief that her father knew.
A long time later, when they arrived at the opulent gates and guarded walls of their manor outside the city, Camila felt the tension in her body begin to release. Here, at least, she was safe. She might have to face the emperor tomorrow, but until then, she could retreat to her childhood bedroom and surround herself with familiar comforts.
“Camila,” her father said, “I’d like to speak with you in my office.” He must have seen the reluctance on her face because he quickly added, “Just a few minutes. I know you’re tired.”
She nodded and followed him to his office. He closed and locked the doors before activating the system that blocked any spying attempts. He walked to the bar cart and poured two measures of his stoutest liquor, the pale green color practically glowing through the crystal glass he handed her. She didn’t even bother with a sip. She knocked back the entire thing in one gulp and hissed as it burned like hellfire down her throat.
“That bad, huh?” Her father remarked knowingly before dropping into the nearest chair. He leaned back and sighed. “Sit, Camila.”
She did, taking the chair closest to him, and pressing her knees together primly, the empty glass clutched between her hands. She noticed the way he couldn’t meet her gaze. Finally, she said, “Ask.”
“I’m not sure I want to, Camila.”
“Better to find out now than tomorrow when the emperor questions me.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “You lie tomorrow. No matter what you tell me tonight, tomorrow you lie.”
“I was hijacked,” she said, needing him to know that much was true. “We were hijacked,” she corrected. “By cyborgs and civilians from the prison transport. Father, the civilians weren’t rebels or collaborators. They were pregnant women, kids and babies.”
Her father shook his head. “Shui is a lunatic.”
“Yeah, he is, and he’s lying about the crew. About Jantus and the others,” she clarified. “I watched them get onto the escape shuttle. They were alive and safe.”
“I know.” He downed the contents of his glass. “I have footage from the shuttle. I managed to access and download it before his thugs wiped it.”
“You have it? You saw them kill our crew?” When her father nodded, she asked, “Then why haven’t you shown it? Why haven’t you made it public? Let people know he’s a liar!”
“Camila, if I do that, our whole family will end up disappearing. I already lost your mother to Shui. I’m not losing you and Willa, too.”
“What?” she asked, aghast. “What do you mean? Mother died in a lab accident.”
He snorted. “An accident that Shui’s henchmen arranged.”
Camila went cold. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You were children.”
“I was fifteen! Sara was seventeen. We deserved to know!” Suddenly, everything made sense. “Is that why Sara ran away after the funeral? Because she knew what had happened? Because you didn’t do anything to get justice for our mother?”
He flinched at her accusatory tone. “I was protecting you and Willa. Sara refused to see that, and when I wouldn’t do what she wanted, she ran away.”
“And you had her declared dead!”
His jaw visibly clenched. “Yes, I did. For you. For Willa. I could not allow Shui to go digging any deeper into Sara’s disappearance. She ‘died,’ and he stopped looking.”
“Well, you better dig up the name of the fixer who helped you arrange Sara’s fake death because you’re probably going to need them again.”
“And what the hell does that mean, Camila?”
“I helped the cyborgs and the civilians escape.” She defiantly held his furious gaze. “I convinced Jantus and the crew that I was being held against my will, got them onto the shuttle and let Mis—the cyborgs—capture me again. Once the crew jettisoned, I helped the hijackers find a safe place to seek refuge.”
“Why? Would you betray your family? Your planet? The emperor?”
“He showed me the truth.”
“He?” Her father scowled. “You did this because of a man? Because of a cyborg?” He swore under his breath and shot to his feet. He stormed to the bar cart and refilled his glass. He lifted it to his mouth and drank the whole thing in one pull before sloshing more alcohol into the glass. He clicked his teeth and sighed. “You will not repeat a word of this outside of this room.”
“I can’t promise—”
“For fuck’s sake, Camila!” He slammed the glass down so hard it shattered. She jumped and gasped at the sight of blood erupting from his hand. He whirled around and shouted, “Do you want Willa to end up on Tyurma? Or worse? Because Shui won’t hurt you. He’ll go after Willa because he knows she’s your soft spot. He’ll do terrible things to her. Horrific things,” he said with a shudder. “And he’ll make sure you have to watch. That’s what kind of monster he is.”
Shaken by her father’s outburst and the truth he spoke, she finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll lie.”
“Convincingly,” her father insisted. “You have to sell it—or else.”
“I will!”
“You had better,” he warned. As if finally noticing his hand was bleeding, he clutched it to his chest. “You should go to bed. You need your rest for tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” she murmured and quietly left the office. She headed straight for the grand staircase and slowly climbed her way to the second floor where she took a left toward the wing of the house dedicated to her and her sisters. She was almost to her room when Willa’s door opened suddenly.
“Cam?” Willa frowned in that usual way of hers, as if she were trying to decipher the most difficult mathematical equation in the world. Her hair was piled on top of her head in the sloppiest bun Camila had ever seen with long strands of oily blonde hair falling around her face. She pushed her glasses up her nose, and Camila noted the broken frame that her sister had taped together in haste.
Willa could have had another pair of glasses ready with a snap of her fingers, but things like that were an afterthought to her. It was the sort of mundane task that Camila often undertook, otherwise it would never get done. “Willa, did you forget to order new glasses?”
“These are fine.” She pushed them back up her nose again.
“Oh, yeah. They’re great,” Camila said sarcastically. “I’ll order new pairs for delivery tomorrow.”
“If you think it’s necessary,” Willa replied with a careless shrug.
“Unless you plan to finally go through with the eye surgery—”
Willa actually gagged. “No! Stop! I can’t.” She shook her head. “You know the rule, Cam! We don’t talk about that. Ever.”
“Then I think it’s necessary for you to have new pairs of eyeglasses delivered tomorrow,” Camila said. Taking in the rest of Willa’s appearance, she frowned. The blue shirt Willa wore looked as if it hadn’t been changed in days, and there were food stains on her jeans. “When was the last time you showered? Or changed your clothes?”
“Um,” Willa scrunched up her nose, “when did you leave for your vacation?”
“Willa! Go shower. Now! Change your clothes!”
“But my data is—”
“Your data will be there when you’re done,” Camila insisted. “Go!” She shooed her sister back into her bedroom. “And, seriously, we are hiring you a personal assistant!”
“I don’t need an assistant!”
“Okay. Fine,” Camila replied tautly. “A nanny it is.”
Willa glared at her. “I’m not a baby!”
“Then start acting like an adult, Willa. If you don’t want a real assistant, use a virtual one. Set some alarms. Get into a routine. Shower. Clean clothes. Regular meals.”
Willa rolled her eyes and rudely mimicked Camila’s voice. She was halfway to her bathroom when she stopped and pivoted back. “Why are you home so early? I thought you were supposed to stay at the resort for a month or something.”
Camila let out a soft laugh. It didn’t surprise her in the least that Willa had been completely unaware of what was happening outside her lab. Maybe that was for the best. Willa probably wouldn’t have handled the news well. She lacked a lot of the social skills necessary for that sort of thing.
“I had a change of plans,” she said finally.
“Oh. Well. That sucks.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it did,” Camila murmured and shut the door to her sister’s room. Feeling wrung out, she trudged the last few steps to her own room and slipped inside. Unable to take one more step, she slid down the door until her bottom hit the floor. Overwhelmed, she pulled her knees toward her chest and tucked her head against them.
Too tired to even cry, she simply closed her eyes and let the awful feelings of hopelessness, regret and despair come. She wallowed in self-pity, saturating herself in sadness, until she felt numb to everything. She rose on shaky legs, her muscles protesting with pins and needles stinging, and stumbled toward her desk near the bay windows she loved so much. “HoMer, wake up.”
The automated household manager sprang to life, activating the small screen on her desk. “Good evening, Miss Camila. How may I be of service?”
“Set an alarm for 0800. Request breakfast at 0805. Contact Willa’s optometrist and order three replacement pairs of eyeglasses, same frame design and color.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Has my father sought medical care for his hand.”
“A moment,” HoMer replied in his pleasantly modulated voice. “Yes, I can confirm that Mr. Velders has accessed the first aid module on the first floor of the manor.”
“Send cleaning bots to his office. Have them scan for and remove any blood stains on the furniture and carpet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s all. Good night.”
“Good night, Miss Camila.”
After the screen darkened, she stalked toward the sideboard in the seating area of her room. She opened the built-in refrigerator and pulled out the first bottle her fingers touched. She fumbled with a corkscrew and finally managed to stab and twist and remove the cork.
Not even bothering with a glass, she carried the open bottle to her bed and flopped down on plush covers and pillows. The first swig filled her mouth with the familiar taste of her favorite almost too sweet wine. The second she barely tasted and the third went down without even registering against her tastebuds. Desperate to sleep but not to dream, she finished off the bottle and cast it carelessly aside. It hit the fluffy white faux fur rug with a satisfying thump.
Grabbing her biggest pillow, she wrapped both arms around it and closed her eyes. In her booze addled state, it wasn’t all that hard to believe it was the one man she wanted more than anything in the universe. Tears finally came as she imagined him back at the rebel base, alone and missing her as much as she missed him. His soulful green eyes were the last thing she saw before she finally succumbed to exhaustion.
