Queen & Commander (Book One of the Hive Queen Saga)

Chapter Nineteen: Knock Yourself Out

The day after they left Victoria Station behind, Victor met with Gavin for their daily quarterstaff practice. Gavin had lent him a retractable metal staff, and Victor had been practicing on his own until his muscles rebelled. Until this impossible situation melted away. Until Llewellyn’s blackmail and Gwyn’s nervous standoffishness didn’t matter.

When he concentrated on the movements, his mind quieted. He didn’t have to worry about finding his purpose on the ship. About leaving home. He could just be.

Gavin extended his own staff, the metal opening up like a lethal flower in the springtime sun. “Drills first,” he said.

Side by side, they moved through the drills. Upper right block, upper left block, lower right block, lower left block, overhead block, squat for the knee block. Repeat fifty times. Repeat with strikes instead of blocks for another fifty.

Victor made his thirtieth practice block. “So, what do you think the stuff in the box is really for?”

They’d opened the box as soon as Llewellyn left. Plastic squares they could confirm as money and bags of a white powder that they didn’t know how to analyze.

Gavin wasn’t even breathing hard. “Ah, drugs and money. The scourge of youth across the universe.” His unrecognizable quotations were a lot less annoying when you were already practicing to beat him up.

“Right.” Victor grunted as he switched his practice mode to attack. It required more force. “But why? Who needs drugs and money? Don’t you usually use one to get the other?” They were in perfect synch, side by side on bare metal floors.

We ought to pick up some mats for the gym area at our next destination. If we survive to see it.

Separate warm-ups complete, they faced each other. Bowed formally.

Gavin suggested, “How about a crime ring? They’d take their skim off the top of every game in town.” He used a strange American accent for the bit starting at skim. He attacked, and Victor blocked on the upper right, upper left. Practice, practice, practice.

“That little? It’d never happen. Llewellyn’s part of something dangerous, but it’s not that sort of organized crime. It’s costing him just as much to send us out there as it would to sell that stuff.”

Gavin just shrugged, which didn’t throw off his next attack to Victor’s head. “We’ll learn more when we get there. Speaking of getting places, have you heard about Alan’s ludicrous project?”

No, because Alan doesn’t talk to me. You two are bonding over some mutual respect-hatred, and I don’t belong at all.

“Aren’t you even a little curious about the creeps we’re meeting?” Victor’s turn came to attack. He brought down his staff to the upper right with as much force as he could muster.

Gavin stumbled back. “He’s got this miniaturized tensor jet. I saw some of the force-to-distance projections yesterday. But that Hawking radiation’s going to be a killer.” He giggled at his own joke. Hawking radiation could cook a ship inside its bubble. It was always a killer.

Victor didn’t laugh with him. Alan and his stupid project didn’t have a place in this gym. Still. “How miniature are we talking?”

Gavin resumed his attacks now, adding in some odd side-body ones that Victor hadn’t seen before. “Well, it fits on the ship.”

Victor snorted. That didn’t tell him much. “In his room?” Block, block, block.

Gavin circled him, crouching low to the ground like a wolf or a martial arts actor. “I haven’t seen it. Haven’t seen much of Gwyn lately either.”

What is this? Must we talk about every frustrating subject in my life during my favorite downtime? He shivered in his sweat, but didn’t shake his head to clear salt from the area around his eyes. He’d be on alert when Gavin pounced.

“She says everything’s fine.” But I don’t believe her. It was time for a subject change. “Luciano’s on kitchen duty tonight.”

Gavin finally sprang, telegraphing every move as he raised his staff overhead. Victor could have tried to ram his own weapon into his friend’s solar plexus, but the point of practice was to practice. Not to improvise. Dutifully, he raised his staff overhead with both hands, letting the blow hit dead center and slide off. Successfully blocked.

“Thank the gods,” said Gavin. “I swear, in faith ’tis passing strange, ’tis passing strange the taste of the food he makes. But at least he can cook.”

I know that one! “Are you misquoting Othello at me?”

Gavin laughed and struck out a blow to his left shoulder. “You’re learning!” he crowed, just as the staff met its mark with a sharp thud.

Victor fell back, crumpling to the floor to cradle his shoulder. It was just a shock, not true pain. The unyielding floor against his knees, however... “That fucking hurt.” Heat spread out from the meaty muscle, making his whole upper body tingle with the impact. He rotated the bone in the socket. Nothing twinged.

Gavin held out a hand to help him up. “Let’s go find Gwyn and misquote some more.”

Well, it wasn’t a good idea, but it was an idea. “After we scour shower all this sweat off.”

Gavin nudged him in the good shoulder. “Have to smell attractive for the ladies, eh?”

Victor shrugged. The action made his left arm heat up again, and he bit his lip to distract from the sensation. “You’re not curious about the delivery at all?”

A/N: The complete ebook of this story is on sale for 99cents (similar international pricing) from April 15 - May 15, 2014 at Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iBooks, and Smashwords.

A/N 2: The sequel, Hive & Heist, is also available at Amazon, B&N, and Kobo.