Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  He came in and sat down. As usual, he filled the room with his presence. "How are you?"

  "Fine." It was true. The shoulder itched a little but that was all. She stretched out her hand to show him. "Steady as a rock."

  "Very good." He took a deep breath. "Disrupters work better on Ptorix than on humans, but even so, the shock may well have killed me if it had hit my chest."

  A spot on the wall was suddenly more interesting than him. "Don’t ask me why I did it. I didn’t think. Maybe I just felt too many people around me had died. I watched the news but they didn’t mention Tesso. What happened? To Daizhen? And Tesso?"

  "Daizhen is dead. Marratrax restrained Tesso. He’s been taken into custody and will probably be returned to Ullnish to stand trial. The incident wasn’t mentioned because we didn’t want any other excuse for an inter-species riot." He smiled faintly. "It’s called politics."

  She sighed. "Why? Why did Tesso kill Daizhen? And try to kill you?"

  "Do you know what Daizhen said to Tesso before he went berserk?"

  She nodded. "He said ‘Lord Anxhou will not take this lightly. Neither will I, human.’"

  Saahren scratched at his scar. "That’s the way of it. Remember I told you what happened to Anxhou’s son after Forenisi?"

  She nodded.

  "Daizhen would probably have been executed. He knew that. Either he was going to make sure that Tesso shared his pain or possibly he was going to offer Tesso to Anxhou as the real culprit." He paused. "Me… well, if he killed me, Anxhou would probably give him a medal. I just think at that point, the man had lost his senses completely and forgot that he had no chance of getting out of the building."

  "Why did he go himself? To Brjyl, I mean?"

  "I don’t expect we’ll ever really know. My guess is he wanted to be involved in something daring. He’d probably arranged the forgeries of the Qerran authorizations and thought he’d make a hero of himself."

  "Huh." Allysha remembered the little man in the conical costume. Mister Cone. "Yes, I can believe that. What else has happened?"

  "Well, I’ve just had word that McKinley’s won a no confidence motion, so the Government has fallen. They’ll call new elections very soon." Saahren grinned at Allysha’s expression. "It means President Galbraith has lost his job."

  "What about the warship in Qerran orbit?"

  "It will take a day or two but I’m certain Anxhou will withdraw the ship." He frowned. "Make no mistake, Anxhou is implicated in this up to the top of his conical head. But he’ll blame Tesso and Daizhen and claim it had nothing to do with him. He’ll apologize to the Suldan and withdraw with dignity. Until next time."

  "So everything’s back to normal and I can go home."

  "Not quite normal."

  Allysha stared at him. What now? All she wanted was to go home, talk to Xanthor and sort herself out. "What?"

  "Didn’t you wonder how Marratrax knew your name?"

  "Yes?"

  "The Qerran authorities know you were involved in an incident that led to the death of a Ptorix worker at Shernish University."

  Heendrax. She sighed.

  "Nothing official will come of that," Saahren continued, "we explained the circumstances. The Qerrans agree with us that public knowledge of the virus is unwise. However, lots of people knew you were there. If you return immediately, there’s likely to be a public outcry."

  She pushed both hands through her hair, eyes closed. "And I suppose nobody wants to admit Admiral Saahren was with me."

  "It would be unwise."

  Her hands dropped onto the covers. "What you’re telling me is I can’t go home."

  He’d folded his arms. "I’m sorry."

  "Are you? Are you really? Isn’t that what you wanted?"

  He chuckled. "I suppose so, yes. But come on, Allysha. You can’t pretend to hate me if you’re willing to sacrifice yourself to save me from injury."

  She pulled a face. "I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t want you hurt, but that doesn’t mean I like you."

  It meant she needed to think about everything that had happened since she left Shernish only a few weeks before, find out what was real and what was manipulation, understand the truth.

  "Of course not," he said.

  "What about Sean?"

  A shadow passed across Saahren’s face. "We’re looking for him."

  She felt a certain relief.

  "You’re far too tolerant of that… that…." He frowned. "Just in case you’re in the mood to protect him a little further, you should know that he sold your house and cleaned out your bank accounts before you left Carnessa."

  Her heart jolted. "What?" That couldn’t be true. If it was, she’d be in trouble. "Let me see."

  "Pick up the report from my implant."

  It showed the sparse facts; credits to Sean’s account, where the money came from, the amounts.

  "The bastard! The two timing, conniving, insufferable bastard! So that’s where he got the credits to gamble."

  She felt used, manipulated, stupid, naïve. He’d left her with nothing; nothing. She’d go home to Shernish and have to start all over again. She’d have to borrow just to pay rent.

  "I’m surprised that you didn’t at least have a separate bank account," Saahren said, eyebrow cocked.

  "I’m not completely stupid. But he’s a good engineer. He fiddled my account."

  "A good engineer, but not enough to do the job on Tisyphor."

  "No. He’s not as good as me. Besides, he can’t work on Tor systems."

  "And does he know how you do things? Without a keyboard?"

  "No. Father made me promise, I’m glad to say." Too trusting, too honest. Stupid. Well, things were going to change. "I only told you because you already knew. What now?"

  He grinned and crossed one leg over the other. "Assuming you’re not ready to marry me—"

  "No."

  The grin widened. "Will you at least work for me—or, more to the point, Admiral Leonov?"

  "Doing what?"

  "Your system skills are remarkable. There’s so much you could teach our experts." He jagged his fingers around the word experts. "Teach them how to find the weaknesses in our security systems, how to match an InfoDroid; teach them how to think. And if there’s time, teach people some of the things you know about the Ptorix—how to understand them better."

  "I don’t want to stay here forever." She didn’t want to stay here at all. But if she had no choice then… she needed the money.

  "I’m offering a contract, a business proposition, that’s all." He paused. "Five months, Allysha, that’s all. Half a year with a competitive salary and accommodation thrown in."

  "What sort of salary?"

  "Thirty thousand Confederacy credits."

  Her jaw dropped. Thirty thousand credits. Thirty thousand. At home that would buy a house on the beach with plenty left over to furnish it. And these were Confederacy credits. She wondered what the exchange rate was.

  "At the moment, the exchange rate is about two point three."

  She rubbed her hand across her face. Sixty nine thousand. She felt faint. "What about you? I wouldn’t have to work with you, would I?"

  His face showed no hint of what he thought. He was good at that. "I’ll be in space on Arcturus. You’ll be here on Malmos. As I said, you’ll report to Vlad Leonov and you’ll work in there."

  He jerked his head and went to stand at the window. Allysha slid out of the bed and padded over to join him, conscious of the shapeless white hospital gown slipping down one shoulder. Sunlight reflected off a multitude of towers that soared into the sky beyond the gardens surrounding the hospital. Malmos wasn’t the urban jungle she’d expected. Tall buildings, sky-lanes crowded with traffic, certainly, but large tracts of what appeared to be forest, with pathways and walkways separated the buildings, adding life and color.

  "See over there? Three tall towers with a number of lesser buildings around them?"

  She nodded. The three buildings formed
the hub of a network, all connected together with walkways and bridges like a multi-layered spider’s web.

  "That’s the Fleet complex. You’ll work in the center building and we’ll get you an apartment in one of the blocks close by. The Parliamentary complex where we were the other day is just over there." He pointed. "The city center—the shops and entertainment areas and so on—is over there." He pointed at a cluster of buildings that seemed closer together.

  "It’s not what I expected."

  Saahren looked down at her. "Malmos? What did you expect?"

  Allysha absently tugged the hospital gown back up her shoulder. She hadn’t actually thought much about the Confederacy’s capital, beyond an impression.

  "Claustrophobic, I guess. A crowded city. Lots of tall buildings, lots of people, lots of vehicles. Not much room."

  He smiled. "They try to keep a balance. The city coexists with the planet. But as you can see," he waved a hand at the multitude of vehicles traveling past in ordered lanes, "there’s plenty of traffic, even if most people do use public transport."

  She pulled at her lip. She’d made up her mind, really. It seemed she had little choice, but she wasn’t prepared to concede quite so quickly. "Can I talk to Lord Marratrax? Just to confirm what you told me?"

  His smile surprised her. "Very good, Allysha. Don’t believe everything you’re told. I’ll arrange for him to come by here."

  "No, thanks. I want to have something reasonable to wear." She sat down on the edge of the bed. "And I expect I still have a pretty necklace."

  "I’ll have Butcher book you into a hotel for now and arrange for Vlad’s wife to help you with wardrobes and such... And yes, your neck is still bruised but Marratrax knows about that. It won’t hurt for him to see what was done to you."

  "How much does Marratrax know?"

  "Everything. He’s a most reasonable Ptorix. Well, Allysha? Do you accept, at least on principle?" He stood beside her, looking down at her with that familiar half smile.

  "If I’m anything, I’m pragmatic." She shrugged. "I have no choice. Book me into a hotel, give me a chance to talk to Marratrax and get me a copy of your contract. I’ll read it tonight and subject to details, I’ll sign it tomorrow." She’d earn his thirty thousand, go home to Carnessa and look after Allysha for a change.

  He hadn’t gone. "Tell me, do you remember me visiting you before?’

  Before? "No. You haven’t been here before."

  His lips curved in a slow smile. What was he thinking? What had she missed?

  "I came here an hour after you were admitted. You spoke to me."

  She searched her memory. No, the last person she’d seen was the nurse to help her to the shower. "You did? I don’t remember."

  His smile widened. "I love you, Allysha." He walked out, leaving a vacuum.

  She punched the pillow with a clenched fist. Damn it. Love was one thing; common sense was another. She’d get over him. In time.

  ***

  Saahren closed the door behind him and leant back against it for a moment, the metal cool against his hands. So far, so good. The admiral was satisfied; now for Chaka Saahren.

  Patience; that was all it needed; time for her to accept facts. He wasn’t very good at patience but he was willing to try; for a while, at least.

  The End

  Mirror Image

  by K.G. Stutts

  Copyright@2014 KG Stutts

  Mirror Series book 1

  Dedication:

  To my father, for allowing me to bounce ideas off of him.

  To Will, my technical adviser.

  To Tamma, my best friend, editor, and inspiration. Thanks for putting up with me. This wouldn't be possible without you.

  And last, yet certainly not least, my wonderful husband, Brad, whom without his patience and support, none of this would have happened.

  CHAPTER ONE

  A young woman glowered across the desk at her commanding officer, arms crossed over her chest and lips drawn together in a tight, thin line. They were both silent for the time being, sizing each other up. The commanding officer was a plump, older man, with short, light gray hair and brown eyes. He sat expressionless across from his subordinate.

  "You can glare all you want, Mack, but my decision is final," he told her.

  "Commander Westlake, Sir, you haven't figured out the ramifications of your decision," Mack protested.

  "I assure you, Agent Rhodes, that I have thought about this from every angle," Commander Westlake flatly told her.

  "But if the clone-" Mack began to protest.

  "Mack, you have to trust me. I know that this situation is going to make you uncomfortable-"

  "Uncomfortable? It's easy for you to say. You don't have a clone, Sir. The idea of coming face-to-face with yourself is...unnerving."

  "I can understand that, but it's for her protection. And yours, I might add."

  "Charlie, can't we just sedate her?" Mack asked.

  Charlie raised an eyebrow at the suggestion.

  "That's rather crude, don't you think?" he asked.

  "How do you think she is going to handle the news that she is a clone and a hostile alien species has her targeted for death? The poor girl is going to break," Mack pointed out.

  "Then if that is the case, we will sedate her until the danger passes," the Commander stated.

  Mack frowned. "You should let me handle this."

  "I think Agent Gray is more than qualified to bring her in."

  Mack sighed. "But, Charlie..."

  "Mack, I promise you can be in the room when Jackson breaks the news to her," Charlie conceded.

  "Fair enough." Mack nodded at the compromise.

  Mack walked back to her apartment within the confines of the ISC, still unhappy with the situation in front of her. At least Jackson would handle her clone delicately. Mack turned on her computer and punched in her security code. After a few minutes she was able to locate her clone at a birthday party. Mack frowned. Her niece and nephew were turning four today. It was another reminder that Mack had never held the twins in her arms, while her clone had. A stand-in was there to celebrate, instead of her.

  She'd joined the Intergalactic Security Commission five years ago and had to leave behind her family forever. The ISC was created in secret in 1965 when their commanding officer, Charlie Westlake, made contact with an alien race. Now, Earth was part of a coalition of planets created to protect each other and cultivate technology. The president had decided to keep the ISC a secret, fearing the world was not ready and chaos would erupt. A clone was created for anyone chosen to join the ISC so their involvement would remain a secret.

  Since the creation of the ISC, they had come in contact with thousands of other worlds and races. Unfortunately, not all of them had been friendly. Latest intelligence had shown a race known as the Gorium had, for some reason, targeted Mack. But Mack was a trained agent and not easy to kill. Somehow, the Gorium had learned of Mack's clone, still living in Charleston, South Carolina. The process of cloning tied the lives of the clone with the counterpart. If one of them died, so would the other. So Commander Westlake had decreed the clone would be brought to the ISC, which was a first, for Mack's protection as much as the clone's. Mack didn't want to think of the clone as a real person. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and her clone as possible.

  It wasn't out of fear she didn't want to be around her clone. She felt like it was a necessity. She had to turn her back on her previous life when she joined the ISC. She even started going by her middle name, hoping it would make things easier for her. She missed her family and friends. It did help knowing the clone had seamlessly taken over for her.

  Mack smiled as she looked in on the birthday party. She laughed as she watched her nephew, Darrell, put his little hand through the birthday cake. As Noah, Mack’s brother, cleaned up the mess, the clone brought out cupcakes. The replacement had been prepared. Mack was impressed that her clone had thought ahead, much to the dismay of her sis
ter-in-law.

  Mack sighed. It was time to give Jackson his orders.

  "Gray," Jackson answered his cell phone.

  "It's me," Mack said.

  "What's the word?" Jackson asked.

  "The Commander wants to bring her in," Mack answered.

  "Are you serious? A clone at the ISC?"

  "That's his orders."

  "What happened to keeping an eye on her and watch for Gorium?"

  "He thinks we need to keep her under lock and key."

  "That's crazy."

  Mack could hear the dismay in Jackson's voice.

  "The Commander thinks she is special," Mack informed him.

  "Special?" Jackson asked, in a surprised tone.

  "He seems to think she is somehow unique from other clones."

  "What makes him say that?"

  "I don't know. He won't tell me. But it's Charlie. He must have his reasons."

  "Interesting. What's the plan?"

  "It's up to you how you get her here. Just be discreet," Mack warned him.

  "You realize how silly you sound saying that."

  "I know." She sighed. "Just do me a favor. Don't take her during the party."

  "Understood."

  "Think you can handle this?"

  "I think I can handle you," Jackson chuckled deep in his throat.

  "You're going to pay for that later."

  "Looking forward to it," Jackson's tone was light.

  "Here is another silly statement: be careful."

  "I will. I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  #

  After the party, Maddie and her best friend, Mallory, helped clean up the mess the children had left behind. Out of the corner of Maddie’s eye, she saw a tall man with dark hair peering over the fence.

  "Hey, who is that?" Maddie asked Noah, nodding toward the fence.

  "Who?" Noah asked, looking around.