Page 63 of Cloverleaf Station

“I’ve already let Kriev know,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Oh, this is such a relief, I can’t even tell you. I was so worried about the children.”

“Xilinn told me she was concerned that if I didn’t find Zak, you might have to leave with Lorna,” Kieron said with all apparent sympathy. That wasn’t exactly what Xilinn had said, but Laina didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, something like that. But it doesn’t matter anymore.” She sighed deeply. “Now everything will be all right. Lorna and Szusza will be thrilled they get to stay with Ophred.” Ophred was her son with Kriev, the only child whose parentage hadn’t been in question because of Zak’s loss.

“Not Pol?” Kieron asked as innocently as he could.

Laina waved a dismissive hand. “He and his older brother don’t really get along, not like the girls do. He’ll come around. Now …”

She wanted him to go, that much was clear. “Well, I should get back to my ship.”

Laina nodded firmly. “That would be the best course of action for us all. Thank you very much for bringing Zak home. As soon as Kriev is back, we’ll gather the children and inter him with all due ceremony.”

No mention of Xilinn coming back for it even though she’d been Zak’s primary spouse. Not one. Laina had already given up on her.

That could only mean bad things for Xilinn. Kieron already knew he couldn’t leave her here.

He needed to talk to Pol. To think that a six-year-old was his main source of information regarding saving a woman’s life …

[You’re upset,] the corner of his vision read. Lizzie was talking to him. [What can I do?]

[Stand by,] he wrote back. “Please give Xilinn my best,” Kieron said as he got up to leave. “And thank you for the tea.”

“You’re welcome.” She saw him to the door, watched him walk down to the skimmer and get inside, and only went back into the house as he began to pull away.

Fine with him. Kieron directed the skimmer to the end of the street, up one level to the next section of roadway, and parked it on a median there. He’d be able to climb down and meet Pol, with no one the wiser, as long as he didn’t let the vehicle linger for too long.

[Kieron? Should I tell Elenus and Catie what’s going on?]

[Hold off on that.] He needed to know what to tell them first. Kieron left the skimmer, stepped onto the long, terraced pole that held up this part of the causeway, and walked down it to where he could see the small boy peeking out of his backyard, watching him descend with hope written all over his face.

Kieron hoped he could live up to whatever Pol was expecting of him.

***

It took less than five minutes for Pol to tell the rest of what he knew and another five for Kieron to verify what he’d said and to look into things more closely. Then he spent one minute standing there and fuming in silence to himself as he did his best not to panic in the face of Pol’s obvious hope and fear.

Xilinn was being held in a government-run “retreat” for dissidents. It wasn’t quite a prison—the people confined there lived in individual, small apartments and had access to green space—but it was surrounded by a security fence, patrolled by armed guards, and allowed no communication with the outside world. Her implant had been deactivated, showing her as “unknown” whenever someone reached out to it. But that wasn’t the worst thing. Even her husband’s own complicity in turning her in—he’d put up no fight when she was removed from their home, offered no protest, all in an effort to smooth things over with the couple he was currently courting—wasn’t the worst thing.

The worst thing was that she, and everyone else in the retreat, were about to have their citizenship revoked and be sent off planet in one week. And once they were gone, they would never get back onto Trakta.

It was the worst kind of catch-22. Without citizenship and with a record of protest, they wouldn’t be able to return home. But with the stigma of being a person from Trakta, the Alliance wasn’t going to be eager to welcome them onto any of their worlds either. If they were given formal refugee status, things would change, but even with Lizzie’s help looking, Kieron couldn’t see any sign that they were going to be so formally dismissed. Instead, it seemed like all these people—over two hundred—were going to be shoved onto ships, something many of them had a deep, desperate fear of—and jettisoned into space with no guidance or help.

They were going to lose their collective minds.

“Kieron?” Pol’s hands, tugging at his sleeve, were enough to pull Kieron out of the silent communication he’d been engaged in with Lizzie. “Is Mama going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Kieron said honestly, then winced as Pol immediately began to cry. “Wait, no, that—hang on, it’s okay, just …” He pulled the kid into his arms and shushed him as he wailed. “No, really, it’s going to be okay. I’m going to help her.”

“How?” Pol demanded tearfully.

How indeed? [Lizzie, can you come up with an assessment of the facility where the dissidents are being held? Use whatever processing power you can spare from controlling your measurable radiation for this; it’s an emergency.]

[Yes, Kieron. Shall I tell Catie and Elenus what’s happening as well?]

He sighed. He didn’t want them dragged into something that was none of their business, but … maybe if it was Kieron’s business, it was their business too. Definitely if it was something he was going to involve Lizzie in, they needed to know about it. [Yes, but don’t give them too many details.]

[All right, Kee.]