Bound by Fate

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Bound by Fate Page 15

by Maddie Taylor


  “When do more people arrive?”

  “Two more ships are expected within the week. That’s another one thousand citizens at least. There are five more residence halls ready to go, and the military already here and the thousands more expected, will all live in barracks on a base east of the city. And there are two more cities and two more bases simultaneously under construction.”

  “Let me guess, phase 2 and 3?”

  He cocked his head, brows raised. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Beck took me on a tour once. At the time, it was nothing more than a jungle. So much has happened since then it’s almost too much to grasp.”

  “The man is skilled at his job. He didn’t do all of this alone, but the humans praise his leadership and say they don’t know of another man who could’ve pulled this off.”

  And he’d been worried he couldn’t do it. Proud of him and what he’d accomplished, a smile curved her lips.

  “They want Mr. Kincaid to run for mayor.”

  She leaned back in her seat while she grappled with the random comment. “Excuse me?”

  “The residents will be holding an election soon, and Beck’s name has been put forth.”

  “Is he agreeable? His responsibilities are too much for one man already.”

  Remus shrugged. “He has their respect. He’s an intelligent, well liked, and, from what I can tell, an honest man. They couldn’t ask for more than that in a mayor.”

  “Those are the same traits used to describe Max Kerr.”

  “Very true. Who knows? Kincaid may well be the principal leader for all of Terra Nova one day.”

  “You mean president. They don’t have a princep.”

  He shrugged again and grunted. “Semantics. No matter what you call him, Beck would do well leading in some capacity.”

  “Yeah, but then again”—she waved her hand at the window and the growing city before them–“isn’t he doing that already?”

  “HERE YA GO, HON. MILT’S specialty du jour,” her waitress announced as she set her plate in front of her with a clatter. “Also known as mystery meat and mash to the regulars. The spuds are nice and stiff, just like they make at the diner. Oh, wait,” she added as she smacked her forehead. “This is the diner.”

  Adria stared down at the unappetizing leathery looking brown stuff and regretted her decision to dine at Milton’s. But she’d been gone for so long, nothing in Lana’s fridge was edible. In fact, when Remus had escorted her to the apartment the evening before, the funky smell emanating from the kitchen had turned her stomach. Gagging, he hadn’t hung around to find out what it was either.

  Throwing out shriveled, unidentifiable black things and mysterious items covered in green fuzz hadn’t improved her condition. It had taken her an hour to get rid of it all and left her with a choice of stale crackers or a bland, hot cereal called Cream of Wheat for supper.

  At work bright and early this morning, with a steady stream of patients all day, and too busy for lunch, she was starving by the time the clinic closed. Rather than shopping and cooking, she’d opted for a quick meal at Milton’s, which brought her to this.

  Next to the brown slab of unidentifiable meat, aptly dubbed a mystery by her waitress, was a lumpy plop of white stuff—the mash, she guessed. Both were covered in congealed brown gravy. She was instantly reminded why she’d avoided the diner when she lived here before—excluding the few times with Beck when the company had been the draw, definitely not the food.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No, I think this is more than enough,” she replied, wondering if she had enough time to get to the PX before it closed for the night.

  “Salt helps,” she advised sagely. “They say half of taste is smell, so holding your nose couldn’t hurt. A big swig of soda to wash it down saves you from the aftertaste, which isn’t much better, believe me.”

  Adria glanced from her plate to the auburn-haired female with big blue eyes. They weren’t light like Beck’s but a deeper hue, the outer edge of the irises ringed with black. She wore a white T-shirt with the word WAITRESS stamped across her rather large chest. Below her job title, in a small, fancy script was the proviso, I’m not happy about it either, but I control your food, so you still gotta tip me.

  “Control in the context I bring out what you order,” she explained as she waved a hand at the plate she’d set in front of her. “I didn’t cook it, so you can’t blame it on me.”

  Adria looked down at her dinner again. “Yet, someone needs to be held accountable.”

  The woman laughed, not loudly, but the musical quality rose above the din of conversation in the dining hall. Several heads turned her way, including a few curious warriors.

  She lifted her pad and scribbled on it. “No doggy bag for table nine. Got it.”

  “Are you newly arrived? I haven’t seen you before.”

  That wasn’t saying much. As she walked through town, passing people going about their lives, she hadn’t recognized many faces at all. The other changes she’d noted from the shuttle were even more dramatic from ground level. The six-story residence hall near the clinic was completed, and several more, double and triple in size, were under construction. Beck was expanding up as well as out, and, considering the volume of people who would be residing on a planet a fraction of the size of Earth, this was a wise use of space. Scores of other buildings, which hadn’t even broken ground when she left, were finished and open for business.

  “I just got here last week,” the friendly woman said with a smile as she held out her hand. “I’m Amethyst Stone.”

  Adria hesitated in taking it, surprised by the gesture of greeting, which at home was traditionally used by men only, but she was even more surprised by her name. “Isn’t that a precious stone on your world?”

  “Which makes it a little redundant, right?” She rolled her eyes. “What can I say? My mother is a bit of a flake.” Then she took the decision from her by clasping her hand and pumping it once. “Most people call me Amy.”

  “I am Adria. Are you Milton’s mate? He mentioned she’d be arriving to help him run the diner.”

  “Heavens no!” she exclaimed, then shivered. “At thirty-four, I’m getting a bit long in the tooth, but Milt is ancient. Even for me. He’s sixty if he’s a day.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. Are you the wife of one of the other workers, then?”

  “Nope.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “I’m single and planning to stay that way.”

  “You don’t want a mate? Or, rather, a husband and a family?”

  “I did at one time and came close to walking down the aisle—twice.” She shook her head. “Now, I’m tired of hoping only to end up disappointed and nursing a broken heart when it doesn’t work out.”

  Adria understood, better than anyone, dreaming for something that could never be. “But you’re here now. Why come all this way to give up? Perhaps you would match with one of our males—”

  “Tried that. It was a no-go, and all I got for my troubles was this T-shirt.”

  “Amy, order up!” She glanced at the window where Milton was lining up plates of steaming food. “I should have explained I just arrived from Primaria. I was there about three months. Went through the whole data bank matching process. So, after coming up empty on two planets—yours and mine—I’m d-o-n-e, done.”

  “Perhaps you should sublimate, like I do.”

  She stared at her a moment then shook her head. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You mean with alcohol, right?”

  “No, with work.”

  “Other than here?” Interest glinted in her expressive eyes. “What did you have in mind? Don’t get me wrong, waiting tables is fun and all, but it isn’t my life’s dream, if you catch my drift.”

  She didn’t catch anything, but she was beginning to recognize a human’s odd turn of phrase when she heard it and not take things so literally.
<
br />   “With more arrivals expected any day, the doctor I work with at the clinic was talking about hiring more help.”

  Amy’s face fell and her shoulders slumped, visibly deflated. “I have no medical training.”

  “Actually, we need someone who can make appointments, check in the patients when they arrive, and collect their medical information. Should they have to wait because we’re behind, Dr. Juna thought it would be best to have someone up front calming the waters, if you catch my drift.”

  “I do. You need a receptionist.” The glint returned. “I was an office manager for a law firm in my previous life. I’m sure corralling irritable patients won’t be much different.”

  When Milt hollered, “Amy, am I paying you to stand around blabbing all day or to serve the food?” she stared at him for two seconds before she let him have it.

  “Paying me, ha! That’s rich, old man. The slave wages you pay me don’t buy my groceries. I work for tips! So, hold your taters.”

  When she faced Adria again, she was frowning. “I’ll take the job, but I’d hate to leave the old curmudgeon in a lurch.”

  “We can wait until he finds a replacement for you. If you’re certain you’re interested.”

  “Believe me, I am. Plantar fasciitis and varicose veins aren’t something I’ve been looking forward to. I overheard some of the women saying jobs other than construction and the mines are scarce. I’m sure I could find one of them to take my shifts. Can I talk to them and get back to you?”

  “Certainly. I’m at the clinic every day.”

  She whistled. “You’re open seven days a week, too?”

  “No. We work five full and one half day per week, for now. That will probably change as the population grows. One of the physics is always on-call for an emergency, but you wouldn’t need to be.”

  “That beats the fifteen-hour days Milton’s runs.” She held out her hand. “You’ve got yourself a receptionist.”

  Adria took it again and endured Amy’s effusive shaking.

  Once the vivacious female walked away, she stood to leave, her dinner untouched. When she turned toward the entrance, she noted the line of customers waiting to eat was out the door. Of all the new construction and businesses in town, she’d seen a clothing store, a barber shop, and something called a supermarket that Remus explained was like Pete’s PX but with more of a selection. She hadn’t noticed another diner, which was a real shame.

  As she snaked through the crowd to reach the exit, she felt the fine hairs on her neck stand on end. Compelled to turn, Adria surveyed the room until her gaze landed on the man at the head of the line, golden and as handsome as ever. Beck towered above the other humans with him. He looked up just then, like her, scanning the crowd. A shadow crossed his face, and his smile faded as soon as he saw her. When his companion said something and drew his attention, he turned without acknowledging her.

  Though deserved, the slight wounded her. She hurried to the door, squeezing through the press of diners, not able to get out of there fast enough.

  Once outside, what else had changed in the time she’d been gone hit her full in the face. No longer hot and humid, but brisk and cold, the winter wind whipped down the street. She pulled the collar of her coat tight beneath her chin—a garment she’d purchased specifically for her stay because nothing of its sort was needed in Ariad. The chill sweeping through her wasn’t from the weather, but from the blast of cold she’d seen in Beck’s pale-blue eyes. It was no wonder, after her unfounded accusations, and weeks ago in the park, when she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.

  The apology she’d rehearsed repeatedly and memorized flew out of her head. She couldn’t very well run up to him in the middle of the crowded diner and beg his forgiveness, especially when he didn’t look like he’d be very receptive to it anyway.

  She’d wait for a better opportunity—in private. Maybe by then he’d be over his surprise at her return.

  As heartsick now as when three planets and millions of miles had separated them, she got out of the diner as quickly as she could. Tarus, who’d been waiting outside, fell in step beside her as she made her way home.

  A SCREECHING NOISE jerked Adria roughly from sleep. Bolting upright in bed, she looked around in a daze, trying to figure out what the noxious noise was.

  Someone pounded on her door. On the heels of it came an urgent shout. “Evacuate, now! This is not a drill.”

  Immediately in motion, she threw off the heavy blankets—three of them to ward off the pervasive chill in her bones—and grabbed her thick, fuzzy robe. While jabbing her arms through the twisted sleeves, she also shoved her feet into her matching fuzzy slippers—both going away gifts from Lana—then rushed to the door. When she opened it, she immediately smelled smoke.

  “Is the building on fire?” she asked of another tenant rushing by.

  “No. It’s outside. The smoke is coming in through the air ducts.”

  “Amy? Is that you?”

  The redhead came to a halt and turned. The hand cupped over her mouth and nose muffled her voice. “Adria! I didn’t know you lived here. I thought all Primarians shuttled back and forth to the ship.”

  “Most of the warriors do when off shift, but I find the travel tedious. And”—she paused to clear her throat, the acrid smoke making it burn—“I suffer from a touch of motion sickness.” Eyes stinging with tears rolling down her cheeks, she pulled the edge of her robe over her face, nearly choking now.

  The older woman grabbed her arm and pulled her along. “We better get out of here and into some fresh air—if there’s any to be had outside. I heard someone say the woods behind the hall caught fire.”

  “I’m not surprised,” she rasped. “It’s so dry here.”

  Amy pushed the door to the stairwell open and led her through. “With the first snowfall last week and more in the mountains during the night, I think that’s about to change. I’m almost afraid to complain and get worse.”

  “That would be my luck,” Adria muttered, dragging in deep breaths of the much clearer air as she followed her down the stairs. With uladite rather than generators powering the city, the foot lights didn’t so much as flicker.

  “Bad luck is my middle name,” Amy announced as she rounded a landing and started down another level. “Well, it’s actually Opal, but I try to keep that under wraps.”

  “Opal?”

  “Yeah, Amethyst Opal Stone. Isn’t it awful?”

  “Oh, uh... No. It’s just... We have a Primarian word very similar to that.”

  “I know. It’s a rather foul-smelling fungus that, when stewed with herbs, makes an excellent poultice for chafing.” She added further in a fatalistic tone, “I’m told it works wonders when the warriors get jock itch.”

  Despite the situation, she giggled at the unfortunately dubbed woman and her plight. Amy only sighed as she continued her downward trek.

  “I shouldn’t make jokes,” Adria apologized in between laughs and coughs, though the latter were less severe in the clearer air of the stairwell. “You must admit, though, it’s rather funny.”

  “Not if you’re the bearer of such an atrocious appellation, but I’m used to it. And it’s better than my father’s first choice. Thank god my mother managed to talk him out of it.”

  “What was that?”

  “Hortense.”

  Adria came to an abrupt halt. Named after three stones was bad, but even Opal, a smelly poultice, was a hundred times better than Hortense. How dreadful!

  “That was a piece of good luck,” she uttered to herself.

  Her companion in this middle-of-the-night exodus glanced up as she made the turn on the next landing. Then she burst out laughing. “You should see your face! I’m kidding, of course.”

  Relieved for her, she continued down the steps and joined her on the next level. “I deserved that for laughing. Amy suits you so much better.”

  “I agree. It was also my grandmother’s name and she was an awesome lady, so I’m going wi
th that rather than jock itch medicine.”

  Adria grinned. “You’re funny, and nice. Like all the human females I’ve met. Um, after they were set free under the treaty, that is.”

  They reached the bottom level and opened the outside door to a heavy layer of smoke and the smell of burning wood.

  “This looks bad,” Amy observed, all humor having left her. “Reminds me of the wildfires on Earth before I left.”

  “Adria!”

  She turned at the deep bellow. Blinking against the constant tearing of her eyes, she also had to wipe them with her sleeve to see the outline of the warrior heading her way through the gray smoke. Even then he was blurry.

  “I’m transporting you up to the Intrepid until we find out what this is about.”

  “No. I’ll be needed at the clinic.”

  “I have orders—”

  “And I have patients. This is my job, Remus. Juna won’t be able to handle the influx alone. You can stand guard there and still be doing your duty to protect me.”

  He glowered, looking even more like his brother when his orders weren’t obeyed immediately. Since she made sense, he eventually nodded, which she considered a lucky break because, as Trask had decreed before she left home, when her welfare was at stake, her guard was in charge.

  Taking her arm, he ordered, “Let’s go. The wind is picking up, which is going to make this harder to contain.”

  She turned to Amy. “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know. Hopefully, they’ll open a temporary shelter somewhere.”

  “There is one already set up at the diner on the other end of town, female. You’ll find food, water, blankets, and cots to sleep on.”

  “Among the men,” Adria clarified. “She won’t be comfortable there. Come to the clinic with me, Amy. You can start your training today.”

  “A literal trial by fire, eh?”

  “I’m sorry. The vehicle I arrived in seats two. Besides, they’ll be doing a head count at the shelter. It’s best she go there.” Remus’ gaze swept over Amy in her nightgown. It was thin, and more suitable for summer, and though she’d wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, it did little to hide her voluptuous shape. “Living in the residence hall for singles, I take it you don’t have a mate to take care of you?”

 

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