Hard Luck Hank Screw the Galaxy(85)

But with my escort finally gone, I figured I could give it a try.

Soldiers were tense and kept trying to stop me, but I had all my papers and they relented. Probably figured they had enough trouble with the revolt without picking fights with people just walking around.

You could hear attacks springing up across the city, but I didn’t see any more personally.

My tele was going absolutely haywire with all kinds of codes coming in. I figured it was either secret instructions for the revolution or the Navy trying to scramble our systems again.

Then I got a brainstorm to go to Delovoa’s place to try and find his gear. Not his new home but his old one. It was a lab and manufacturing plant after all. I just had to hope they had taken the Dredel Led scrap and left everything else intact.

I got inside after getting the door code from Delovoa. It took a few tries to reach him; tele communication was getting spotty.

There were no guards, but the downstairs had been gutted. It was almost completely empty. I’d never really appreciated how big his place was: it was nearly an entire block underground.

All the weapons were certainly gone. Only bits and pieces of equipment and the very largest of machines they couldn’t pull out remained. I searched through the area and found a couple items that Delovoa might want. It would give him something to tinker with if nothing else.

I put the things in a small trunk I found upstairs and took a train home. I hadn’t seen Jyen and Jyonal in a while, and realized, to my surprise, I missed the poor kids.

Jyen opened the door. I half expected her to have polka dot skin this time, but she was merely blue.

“Hank,” she said, with her usual excitement, and invited me inside.

“Hey.”

She looked up at me with her wet, panicked eyes.

“We haven’t heard from you in so long. We didn’t know if you had left us. Everything is so awful.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll make us some food. Sit down, tell me how you’ve been.”

“Is Jyonal here?” I asked.

“He’s sleeping. He’s—he’ll be sleeping for a while. Sit down. Let’s talk.”

I sat.

“The short news is things aren’t good. The military owns the station as you can see. There’s still no way to get out. I have guards following me around and now it looks like a bunch of people are trying to fight back.”

“Are you going to fight back?” she asked, full of worry.

Good question. I started to answer and stopped.

“I don’t know. It really seems pointless.”

“Then what will we do?” she asked.

We. The siblings could help—in theory. But if the military learned Jyonal was here, I doubted they would hesitate sacrificing all of Belvaille to get him back.

I shrugged.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked in the same tone, as if this were the next logical question. She wasn’t smiling, or sad, or pleading. It was just some natural conversation switch.

“What?” I shook my head briskly, as if by causing brain injury I might be able to understand her. “Why are you asking? I mean, how did that come up?”

“It’s just, you might feel better. We might feel better if we had someone.”

Those eyes. Those floppy ears. Those delicate little lightning-spurting fingers.

“Jyen, my life isn’t perfect right now. I know that. But it’s not going to get any better with the addition of another person,” I stated conclusively.

“How do you know if you don’t try?”

“I know I’ll never be a ballerina, even though I haven’t put on toe shoes. Because I’m not fifty years old,” I said, throwing my arms up. “I’ve been around for a while. I’ve yet to be in a relationship that didn’t have a lot of drama.”

“Maybe you haven’t met the right person,” she said sweetly.

“Maybe,” I said, scrunching my face.

“But what are your plans for the next ten years?”

“Ten years?” I asked incredulously. “I could be dead tomorrow. What’s the point of planning that far ahead? I don’t know what I’m eating for dinner.”

“If you want it enough, it will happen. I believe that.”

“Want what? A relationship? I’m trying to tell you I don’t want one.”

“Then what do you want?”

I paused a good while.

“I want things to be like they were. When Belvaille meant something, even if it was sleazy. And I was, you know, a somebody.”

“That’s it?” she asked, clearly disappointed. “That doesn’t sound very significant.”

“Maybe not to you, but yeah, that’s it. I think I’m joining the resistance.”