Search & Recovery: A Retrieval Artist Universe Novel Read Free Page B

because it was a cheap ring, not worthy of his daughter.
    This man would probably give it back because it was the right thing to do.
    Still, Berhane was touched that the child asked about her well-being. Berhane gave the girl a watery smile that felt completely insincere.
    “Yes, thank you,” Berhane said. “I’m fine.”
    The little girl looked at the ring. “You gonna put it on?”
    “Not now,” Berhane said, and closed her hand around it. The sharp metal prongs holding the half-carat ruby-like stone in place bit into her palm.
    The little girl’s face fell, as if a ring shouldn’t be treated like that. She scurried back to her father.
    Berhane raised her head, her gaze meeting his. He was about her age, as dark as his daughter. His daughter had his black eyes. He raised his eyebrows at Berhane, as if questioning—what? That she was all right? That she hadn’t harmed his daughter?
    Berhane sighed, then looked at the door leading out of the Terminal. Damn that Torkild. He had deliberately ended their relationship here, so that he wouldn’t have to answer to her.
    He was a coward, just like Berhane’s father had said he was.
    He’s not worthy of you, my girl , her father had said more than once, and that comment had always made Berhane feel special and pathetic at the same time.
    She had felt special because her father had noticed her, and pathetic because she needed him to notice her. And pathetic too because he had criticized her boyfriend, and in doing so, had criticized her as well.
    It irritated her that her father had been right. And her mother had been as well. Neither of them had liked Torkild.
    Berhane had always suspected her mother wanted to talk with her about Torkild on the day of the bombing, four years ago now.
    Dammit.
    The man was no longer looking at her. He had his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. What were they doing there? Seeing someone off, as she had been doing? Because it was too late to get onto the shuttle to Athena Base.
    Berhane had no idea why she was so interested in them. Maybe because the girl had brought herself to Berhane’s attention. Or maybe because Berhane couldn’t remember ever standing with her father anywhere, waiting for something, just her and her dad.
    Except at her mother’s funeral. Then they had stood side-by-side, greeting the guests, because Berhane’s brother Bertram had been too broken up to talk to anyone. Bert had acted as if he were the only one harmed by their mother’s death, as if he were the only one grieving.
    He had barely made it through the funeral before screaming at their father. Somehow, the explosion that had killed her mother, an explosion caused by some terrorists connected with a place that Berhane had never heard of before that awful day, had become their father’s fault, at least in Bert’s eyes. Berhane had never understood the fight.
    Their mother had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had died for it.
    End of story. Sometimes life was like that, much as Berhane hated it.
    Much as she grieved over it.
    Real grief, not the tears she was shedding for Torkild The Terrible.
    She wiped at her eyes.
    Bert had taken his inheritance from their mother and fled to the Frontier, after their father had made him sign off on any interest he had in the family business from that moment forward. Berhane had thought the requirement harsh, but her father had said that it would protect her inheritance and Torkild, the bastard, had agreed.
    Berhane ran a finger beneath her eyelid. She probably should leave. She had made a scene after all. Her mother would have been appalled.
    No, that wasn’t right: her mother would have laughed. Her mother had been the one who hadn’t cared about the opinion of others. Her father cared, mostly because he was afraid that a bad opinion would have a negative effect on business.
    Berhane glanced at the door, then looked up at the screen hanging behind one of the sign-in desks. It showed the shuttle to