Samael's Fire by L. K. Rigel Page A

with their lights on, moving in nonorbital trajectories through the space station’s debris.
    Through the space junk.
    Jake.   Char touched her lips. There had been something in Jake’s last kiss before he left to rescue Rani. Not a promise. An expectation. Char had thought then she would never see him again. Could he possibly still be alive? The V was full of high-ranking corporate and government types at play. The DOGs probably went after it too.
    But if Jake   was   alive, he would think she was not. For all he knew, she was on the Imperial station when it went down.
    “Hello?” A man’s voice spilled out of the speaker. It sounded bizarre after so much silence. “Hello, hello? Can anybody hear me?” The signal was strong; it was the guy’s voice that was shaky. “If anybody’s out there, if you have contact with the Emperor, tell him it’s safe at Corcovado.”
    “Idiot!” Mike pounded his fist on the table.
    “Is that Geraldo?”
    “Why doesn’t he just send out a homing link?” Mike leaned closer to the panel and pushed a button. “Geraldo, this is Governor Augustine.”
    “Excellency! I can’t tell you how—“
    “Shut up.”
    Mike let the silence hang for unbearable seconds. Char would have felt sorry for Geraldo if she didn’t despise him.
    “The DOGs are listening too. Get off the com and stay off, you fool.”
    Mike broke the connection. “I’m sorry about that, Char. I had to risk it.”
    “I understand.”
    Just sitting here was going to drive her crazy. There must be something useful she could do. She found a schematic on the agronomist’s compad and pulled up directions to the fruit section. “I’m going out to the crop pallets to do a hands-on check.”
    It took two Ppods to get to the other side of the annex. The pallet room was dark and cool with grow lights suspended over the plants, and the cleansing fragrance of growing things was strong. Somewhere between the melons and the berries, her threatening headache dissipated like the hydro mist.
    Not surprising, everything was in good order. The blackberries were fat and sweet and the strawberries were as red as … Cripes, she couldn’t get Jake out of her head. One particularly fat berry reminded her of that foo-foo drink with the origami dragon and the red stains the fruit left on his lips.
    She picked the strawberry and bit into it.
    “Now that’s a very pretty picture, Meadowlark.”
    Jake! She whirled around. He was standing at the end of the pallet with his typical amused smile and his arms spread wide in invitation.
    “How did you —?” She didn’t care how he got there. She ran to his embrace.   Shibad , he felt marvelous.
    “Char, you’re alive.” His voice was warm and wondrous and comforting, and his eyes as dark and kind as she remembered. It seemed like weeks since she’d seen him, not half a day. He kissed her forehead and eyelids and pressed her to his chest, whispering in her ear. “It’s so good to see you.”
    He kissed her again, full on the mouth, insistent yet tender.
    He smelled wonderful, as if he’d just showered with lavender and ylang-ylang. And he was clean-shaven.
    Clean-shaven.
    Something wasn’t right. Char twisted out of his arms and stepped back to get another look at him. Khaki flight pants, light green hemp shirt. Lovely muscles. Brown eyes, shaggy hair. It was Jake. But it wasn’t Jake.
    “Begone, Empani!” A female called out. “Back to the fall!”
    Char scanned the pallets behind her. Nothing. Had she imagined that voice? She turned back to Jake.
    Gone.
    The stress was getting to her. She was cracking up. But no way did she imagine that embrace. That kiss. She could still feel Jake’s lips on hers. She could still smell him.
    “No, little creature. You’re not crazy.”
    A small woman stepped out of the shadows. Except there were no shadows.
    “The Empani was drawn to your desire for the man in your heart.” Her voice had a childlike quality mixed with an all-knowing