“I know you want me to go home—”
“No. I changed my mind about that. Or rather,Carrak changed it for me.”
Zia nodded. “She thinks there’s more of mygrandfather in me than—well, than anyone else sees.”
He moistened his lips, then admitted, “I seeit too. I have for a while. I wish you had more time, but we’regoing to make the next four days count. Right?”
“Right.”
“And you’re not mad at me anymore?”
“I don’t have time to be mad. All I careabout is helping Malara get another draw in the challenge. Buyingthem time to get better so they can eventually win. And that’s allyou should care about too.”
“Okay, Zee.” He gave her an encouragingsmile. “Let’s hit the simulator.”
“Okay. But Rem?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you should call me Captain Quito—orjust Quito—from now on.”
“Zee—”
“Not because I’m mad at you. Just to help meremember who I am. Why I’m here. Please?”
The vulnerability in her voice made him wantto grab her and hide her—from the Alluvans and from Carrak.And maybe he’d end up doing just that. But for now, he rememberedwhat she had said—that she wanted to go out in a blaze ofglory.
Not a captive or a war prize. Not a delicateflower, running from planet to planet, always frightened, alwayshunted. As much as Rem needed to protect her, he couldn’t blame herfor wanting to be a warrior instead of a victim.
So he gave her a confident grin. “Okay,Captain Quito. Whatever you say. Let me grab one of those vests formyself, then we’ll find out once and for all what you’vereally got.”
Chapter16
Zia was fine as long as she was in thesimulator, where the pace alone was enough to keep her fromthinking about anything else. Unlike her stint in the studentmachine, or her experience in the Malaran tube, this was not afriendly game. Mechs were looming everywhere, trying to destroyher, and every time she was hit—either by a blast or acollision—the simulator made sure her whole body knew it by rackingher with shock waves and burning sensations.
As bad as that was, she preferred it to the“breaks,” when she recuperated with a cool drink for her dry throatand a cold rag for her aching eyes while Rem and Carrak conferrednearby, analyzing the results from her latest session, determiningher strengths, which were insignificant, and her weaknesses, whichwere apparently legion. She could hear them murmuring, arguing,worrying. Doubting. And her doubts would begin to grow too.
What was she thinking, volunteering likethis? It was nothing less than suicide! Her dream of making adifference—of giving Malara an edge before she died in a gloriousblaze—seemed ludicrous, given her inability to survive even twominutes in the simulator when matched against an Alluvan giant. Atthis rate, she presented more of a liability than anythingelse.
And Carrak and Rem knew it. The question nowwas, what would they do about it?
Zia wasn’t sure how she’d respond if theytold her they weren’t going to let her join the battle. If therewere any other options—any Malaran pilots that weren’t wheezing orpuking their guts out in the overcrowded infirmary—she would havestepped aside gladly. But Carrak was the only functional Malaranwarrior at this point, and that was only because she was livingwith tubes in her arms, keeping her hydrated while also plying herwith anti-nausea medicine and painkillers.
Even so, the physicians had warned that thegeneral couldn’t go on much longer if she hoped to participate inthe battle. She needed intensive rest—in a bed. Preferably asleep,but in a medically induced coma if necessary.
Ironically, even if they decided not to letZia fight, she knew they’d still work her to death in the simulatorand thereafter on the practice fields. She had long since guessedthat that was part of Carrak’s plan. To mind grub the Alluvans—makethem think Zia was gearing up for some spectacular display of Quitopower.
If only they could see what she really was—afrightened, untrained, hopeless specimen. They’d probably declarevictory on the spot. Instead, the challenge would ensue, even ifZia didn’t participate. Even if Carrak dropped dead in themeantime, and there weren’t any Malarans capable of traveling tothe challenge site.
The battle would still take place.
Because Malara still had its real secretweapon: Rem.
* * * *
At the end of the first day of training,Zia’s body felt ravaged. She could only imagine how she’d feel thenext day, when she was scheduled to pilot the Quito giant in asession against the Quito skirmisher. Even if Rem was gentle, sheknew he’d jump that crazy mech right down on her, jangling herspine in a way the simulator could only pretend to do.
Lieutenant Harada had been released from thehospital and was stationed outside the door of the femaledormitory, the sole occupant of which was Zia. All of the otherpilots were in the overcrowded infirmary. Zia had stopped by to seeMaryak and Gannor there, but they were both in advanced stages ofthe lung infection and had drifted in and out of consciousness,insisting in their semi-lucid moments that Malara would triumph inthe upcoming challenge. She was embarrassed by their show ofsupport, and while she knew most of it was for Rem—after all, theyhad seen him in action—she also knew they were hopingagainst hope that Zia really was the reincarnation of Quito theGreat.
She tried not to think about any of that asshe climbed into her bunk that night. She needed to sleep, notworry, and thanks to the day’s workout she was so exhausted shecould barely hold her eyes open.
Before she dozed off completely, she heardRem’s voice, which would have been nice had she not recognized theargumentative tone. Then Harada’s voice responded, ripe withantagonism. She could guess what was going on, so she lurched outof the bunk and stumbled on cramping legs to the door, opening itand glaring halfheartedly.
“Hey, Quito,” Rem murmured. “Can I have aminute?”
Harada scowled. “This guy can’t take no foran answer, Captain. I would have taken care of it the old-fashionedway, but he’s the only professional pilot who isn’t sick, so Ifigured I’d better not put him in the hospital with theothers.”
“Like you could?” Rem began, but Zia wavedher hand to silence him.
“What’s the problem, Rem?”
“Can we talk in private?”
She nodded, then told
