But his one great flaw was his ability to see the downside of every situation.
“If we don’t spend it, we can give it back as soon as someone comes looking,” she said.
“Until they accuse us of stealing it.” Luke tapped the eyepiece to make it more opaque. He was probably trying to see what the teller was doing. “Yeah!” he said loudly to whoever was on the other end of the call. “I’m here.” He listened, his face a twisted riot of emotion, none of which Dana could read. He stilled. She pulled her foot away and leaned forward.
“Are you sure?” Luke asked.
Dana watched as the vid display flashed colors across Luke’s face as the teller showed him something. Luke grew more and more still.
“Yeah, can you forward that?” He groped blindly for Dana’s hand. She grabbed him. It couldn’t be his mother. She had died years ago. Dana had only known her at the very end when cancer had wrecked her body. When they’d been growing up, Liam had been Chak’s best friend, and that had put Dana into the annoying sister category. She hadn’t known the rest of the Munsons until the much younger Luke started showing up to pester Chak.
During her last days, Mrs. Munson had often confused Luke with his brother Liam. She wept and reached for him with an emaciated hand, begging him to come back and weeping harder when the drug cocktail convinced her that her sainted Liam had returned. Every time, Luke would clench his teeth and storm out of the room like a tornado ready to destroy a small village.
Luke had moved in with her family after his mother died, and she remembered that same lost expression when the hospital had called to say it was too late, that his mother had passed in the night.
Maybe something had happened to one of the younger siblings, but that wouldn’t result in any money. Given that the government had scattered them to different foster homes when their mother died, Dana wasn’t sure they’d even get notified if something happened to one of them. Siblings had a legal right to know each other’s contact information, but that didn’t mean that any foster families would bother using that to notify Luke.
Luke cleared his throat. “Yeah, they didn’t say anything. The military—who would have guessed they were incompetent, huh?” he asked. He was trying for a joke, but his voice shook. “Thanks.” Luke reached up and paused the vid before pulling the headset off.
Dana took it and put it on the desk since she was closest. “What is it?”
“My brother. My older brother.”
Dana sucked in a breath. Liam. If there was one topic that was off-limits in Luke’s world, Liam was it. To hear Luke tell the story, Liam had abandoned the family. He’d fought with his mother over a boyfriend and when that relationship hadn’t worked out, he’d jumped a military ship for the front and never looked back. Dana’s older brother had known Liam, and he’d said one or two things that made Dana question that version of the truth, but Luke saw the world through the eyes of a wounded and abandoned little brother.
“Did he die?” Dana would have thought that would’ve shown up on the news feeds. After all, Liam Munson was the darling of the military—the linguist who had single-handedly delivered the most important ally in the war against the rebelling worlds. He had discovered that the turtle people had the resources Earth needed and more technology than anyone had understood.
Luke leaned back, bracing his arms behind him. “He is giving me part of his paycheck.”
For a second, Dana couldn’t process the words. “He what?”
Luke leapt to his feet, but there was nowhere for him to go because the apartment had one narrow path around the bed, and Dana had her chair parked in the middle of it. “He’s assigned ten percent of his paycheck to me. That extra money came from him.”
“Oh.” Dana had no idea what to say. She wanted to point out that they could use the money. Two hundred and twelve credits would take a lot of pressure off them financially. That was one third of their rent. If they stayed put, they could put every penny aside and next semester pay the rental fees on Luke’s books up front, which would save them a shitload of interest and fees. However, Luke’s expression suggested he would rather burn the credits.
Dana rolled the chair back, and Luke power-walked the three steps to the bathroom and then stopped. “Why the hell is he stirring all this shit up again? It’s not like he gives a damn. He didn’t show up when Mom was sick. He didn’t even send a card to the funeral.”
Liam’s name hadn’t been on the news back then, but Dana suspected he had been doing something linguistic and important. The military probably hadn’t told him about their mother. That was the sort of shitty thing the government might do if they thought a death in the family might distract someone. The only people less ethical than the government were the assholes who had set up their own private kingdoms on planets Earth had paid to terraform.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Luke demanded.
She studied the obstinate set of Luke’s jaw. “Do you honestly want to hear what I have to say?”
Luke crossed his arms over his chest. “So you think I’m being unreasonable?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You practically flashed the words in sign language.” He signed a few choice curse words.
Dana stood. “Hey, I’m not defending your brother.” And she wouldn’t. Not aloud. Not to Luke.
“We don’t need his money.” Luke spat the words out without trying to disguise the lie.
“‘Need’? No,” Dana said. “We can keep limping through each month hoping that you finish your degree and get a position before an injury or a draft notice shows up. That’s what we’ve done up to this point, and we can keep right on with our five-year plan. But a little extra money would help.”
“It’s his money.” Luke made “his” sound like the worst profanity in the universe. “And they say the government isn’t going to have another round of drafts. The rebels have lost Landing. It’s all mopping up now. Earth has won, so we don’t need Liam’s money.”
Dana didn’t know about politics or war strategy or how close Earth was to reclaiming Ribelo. She didn’t know any of that, but she knew their budget. She knew how Luke would come home exhausted after working eight hours and then he would study for eight more. She knew her feet hurt. “I don’t care if you inherited it from Hitler or Myronov or that weird religious guy with the poison drink he gave to kids. Money is money. If someone evil leaves you money, there’s no psychic stain on the credits.”
