Page 49 of The Space Between Stars

“Receiving redundant lectures on Nelfinden patriotism from a burnt-out patrician.” Dex took a sip and made a face that displayed a lack of experience with intoxicants.

“Ah. That.” Niklaus turned to the mute. “What about you?”

Niklaus frowned. “I’m taking note that you are not, in fact, a conversationalist.”

Across the sands, a voice cut through the night like a blade through aether. “You.”

It was the same way people often addressed Niklaus, followed up with some sort of remark a governess might reprimand a respectable maiden for, but it was directed at the mute.

The voice belonged to a young recruit, perhaps only a few years older than the Azadonian. A patchy dark beard cloaked his chin as well as any threadbare scarf; his nose hooked at an angle that might trim pottery. He rounded the barrel and pointed a finger at the mute’s chest. “We need to have a conversation.”

“What timing!” Niklaus said, glad for the intervention. “Have a drink. You can have his.” He gestured toward the mute’s untended mug.

The recruit did not pair the glare he served Niklaus with any disparaging remark. He didn’t need to. Silence could be a weapon. Niklaus should know well enough; it had wounded him for years.

“You.” He faced the mute. “I knew your papers were forgery.”

The mute only stared at him, unblinking. Fates, if awkwardness were a sparring match, they’d both have taken the crown.

The recruit waved the air between them and leaned in closely. “It’s fine. Listen, I’ve been looking for you since we left Chira’na. I was investigating Thacklore at the same time as you. Knew he had people coming in from the outside. We share a common enemy, and I need your help.” He turned back to Niklaus. “You.” It was said with more disgust than accusation this time—amazing, that a single world could be so versatile. “You can understand him. Help me talk with him.”

Niklaus’s gratitude evaporated. Conversation? Fine. Demands? Not. He gave the recruit a smile that he hoped might blind the stars overhead. “I’d like to help you out. Now, just where was it that you came in?”

The young man’s overgrown brows formed a full caterpillar over his narrowed eyes. “Mind the company you keep, eah?” he said to the mute.

Dex drained his drink. Then the mute’s.

Nameless looked determinedly out into the desert.

The recruit scowled. “Perhaps another time. I’ll make it worth your while. When you need me, ask around. You’ll find me.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper and slapped it on the table before making off. Niklaus leaned forward to see what he had written. A name. Chevek Balfida.

Balfida. Shit. As in related to Covern Balfida, Latouda’s betrothed, the leader of the Groundling movement, Balfida?

Every pleasant moment of the night was suddenly extinguished.

“How’d you two meet?” Niklaus grumbled.

Yet the mute’s nails dug into his crossed arms. Why would he disclose information to someone who was evading his end of a deal?

Perhaps Niklaus was just coming down from a moss canopy, or perhaps the name Balfida had hit him too hard where it hurt, but something in the interaction made him itch.

Nameless was a criminal. Why should Niklaus care if he was making him wait a few extra minutes?

“Let’s get you what you’ve been waiting for.”

Half an hour later, they stood outside the wagons which housed Aetech’s defensive plates. Niklaus used his master key to open the door. He was so afflicted with the moss descent—a full tab had been too much—that it took him three tries to get the key into the hole.

This was wrong. So wrong. He shouldn’t be delivering this restricted man anything, let alone technology held under a privacy contract by his own corporation.

“You only need one?”

Niklaus withdrew the device from the wagon and handed it to him. It was a sleek plate of metal the size of a small notebook: featherlight and affixed to a steel grip. An activator switch glistened at its side. The mute examined it and flipped the switch. A blue light shone from within, extending into a translucent ring nearly as tall as him that distorted the air between them. He deactivated it.

Niklaus wasn’t entirely sure what the plate did. His board had informed him of its engineering, moons back. They’d said it was a shield. A stupid investment, considering Nelfindar wasn’t fighting any wars, but that hadn’t been an opinion worth sharing. At least, not at the time.