Her nose dripped blood through her sobs. “I can’t—the pain—the PAIN….”
“It’s okay,” he told her, hefting her to her feet. He leaned her against him. She felt comfort, but no energy connection. She craved the safety she experienced from Dru. “I’ve got you. We’re going to see the doctor. You’ll be fine.”
Once they arrived, the medical cadet, Milastow, shuffled Daith into a secluded area. The young woman spoke kindly, but Daith missed Dr. Ludd’s easy demeanor.
She’d asked Cenjo to send a message to Dru’s room. Where was he?
Trey came into the room shortly after she’d arrived and took her hand. “Lieutenant Commander Cenjo told me you were here. How are you?” he asked, worry-lines etched in his forehead.
“I’m okay,” she told him. “The pain is gone. The vision is gone. But I still feel unsteady.”
Trey ordered everyone out of the room, even the doctor. “What happened?” he asked.
Daith’s lip trembled, her emotions threatening to spill out. She didn’t want to go back to the image.
“While leaving Dru’s office I felt a sharp pain in my head. The vision felt completely real, like I could actually see and feel it.”
“What did you see?”
Daith closed her eyes as her hands convulsively covered her belly. “I think I was shot. Or, whoever I saw had been shot. Or burned.” She closed her eyes tighter. “In the stomach. And I think—I think I died. Or they died.”
“Did you see the shooter?”
Daith thought back. She bit her lip to staunch the pain that tried to re-emerge.
“No. I could only see my own body.”
Trey had not visibly relaxed, but Daith felt his mood change. She opened her eyes as he stood abruptly.
“I need to check something,” he said quickly. “You should stay here until I get back.”
“Can you let Dru know I’m here?” If she could be near him, she knew she’d feel better.
He paused. “Dru isn’t on the ship right now. But, don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine.”
It took a moment for Daith to realize what Trey meant. He needed to find out if Dru had been the one she’d seen in her vision.
If Dru was dead.
Chapter 41
Nightmares tormented Daith.
She’d been given a sedative, but the doctor had not given her a dream-deflector pill.
So the nightmares came.
The wound in her stomach. Fire searing her skin. Her life bleeding away as her breath slowed.
And she couldn’t scream.
Daith awoke several standard hours after Trey had left to check on Dru. The room surrounded her with darkness. The only sounds were the soft beeps from medical equipment monitoring her vitals. Cenjo, a figure in the shadows, slept in the chair next to her bed. He appeared to have fallen asleep watching her, his head propped on his hand, his neck tilted at an awkward angle.
“Cenjo?”
Cenjo stirred. “Daith? You’re up. Computer, lights at twenty percent.”
“Have you heard anything about Dru?” Daith asked.
“Commander Xiven came in a while ago. He told me…” Cenjo hesitated. “He told me they found Dru’s body in a hotel room on a nearby planet; a burn wound in his abdomen. He’s dead.”
He’s dead.
The words echoed inside her mind. She knew she’d heard them, but shock struck her like a blow to the chest and she couldn’t process them.
“I’m so sorry, Daith.” Cenjo told her. Pity radiated off him. Daith’s head pounded. She couldn’t shut his feelings out. They screamed at her, clawing inside her skull.
“I can’t…” Daith pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “You need to leave. I’m sorry—it’s just, I-I can’t...”
“What is it?”
Concern drenched over her like a wave of syrup. “It’s the way you feel. Stop feeling. I can’t handle it. Please, Cenjo, just go.”
After Cenjo left and Daith’s sensations returned to normal, she rose and dressed. Worried she’d have to deal with the doctor, she tiptoed from her room, but Milastow slept at her desk, snoring loudly. Daith crept past and made her way down the dimly lit corridors, silent and cold.
Daith passed a couple crew members who looked at her oddly, but said nothing. While she traveled, she tried not to think about Dru, but how could she not? Dru had been the one thing she could depend on and now…
Daith stumbled and leaned on the wall for support. The numbness of shock threatened at any moment to falter and spill over into anger and grief.
I have to control myself. I have to focus.
Dru said you wouldn’t have to do this alone, but he’s gone. You are alone now.
Daith stopped outside Trey’s office. She wanted to rush inside and demand to find Dru’s murderer. She wanted to scream at Trey for allowing Dru to leave the ship. She wanted to sink into the floor and sob until she died.
But instead, she rang the chimes.
*
Trey paced. In a few standard hours he would change history. In a few hours, he would take the first step to reestablish peace.
And implement a plan that would kill thousands.
Trey stopped at this thought and a knot formed in his stomach, like chilled metal. Everything so far had gone according to his preparations, with a few minor setbacks, but even those tangents weren’t enough to ruin his mission.
Still. Killing those who interfered with his plan didn’t mean the same as taking innocent lives.
Trey kept telling himself they would die for the greater good. He knew he, unlike Jaxx, would not make the mistake of standing in the spotlight, but would oversee things from behind the scenes. All the lives to be sacrificed would be worth it.
Sacrifice the few to save the many.
While Trey waited for the report telling him they’d reached the Fracc system, he heard his door chimes ring.
“Daith?” he asked when the door slid open. “It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing out of the medical wing?”
The smile on her face seemed forced. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“I assume Cenjo told you what happened,” Trey said slowly. “I’m so very sorry. Dru mentioned the two of you—cared for each other.” Trey did his best not to grit his teeth while he said those words. He forced himself instead to concentrate on maintaining the mental barrier to keep her from sensing his emotions.
Daith blinked, the smile faded, but didn’t seem to register what Trey had said. A few moments of silence passed.
“Who is responsible?” she asked. The words came out monotone, clipped and robotic.
Trey hesitated. “I think you should return to the medical wing, Daith. It’s obvious you aren’t well.”
Daith blinked, slowly. “Who.”
Trey ignored the hair creeping up on the back of his neck. He could feel her probing his mind, but in a hap-hazard way. She wasn’t really searching for the truth.
She wanted someone to blame.
“He is a member of the Controllers,” Trey said. “He was with you when we came to rescue you. A Controller spy. We believe he fed information to the Controllers about you and your family’s whereabouts.
“I’d asked Dru to meet with him,” Trey continued. “Claiming he’d defected, he would only talk to an impartial party. There was no way I could have known—”
“Where is this spy?”
“He’s dead.”
Daith frowned. “Dead?”
“I’m afraid so.” Trey prayed Kircla would send him her report soon so he could offer proof. “Shot and killed by authorities when he fled the scene.”
A myriad of emotions danced across her eyes. Trey watched her absorb and sort through what she’d heard.
Finally, she spoke. “The Controllers did this.”
“Yes.” He held his breath at what she might say.
The green in her eyes dulled. “I’ve made my choice. I’m going to help you against the Controllers.”
Trey sm
iled. “Thank you, Daith.”
Chapter 42
Trey disconnected the vidlink call. A full day had passed since Daith told him she wanted to join his cause. Once she’d accepted, Trey’s brain and body jumped into overdrive. He tightened security and planted evidence needed to show how Dru died, should Daith ever choose to investigate. Then he finally made the one call he’d been the most excited, and afraid, to make.
To Exarth.
Most didn’t think she was real—a ghost you told children about at night to make them behave. A fiend from the shadows who would devour you and your family whole.
But Trey knew she existed. Powerful and influential in the Eomix galaxy, but still real. Trey needed her, her vast amount of resources, and her show of force for his plan to succeed.
With Daith in tow as a weapon, Trey knew he could get Exarth to join his cause.
And he’d been right. Once he’d sent the reports on Daith’s abilities and progress, Exarth had accepted his terms. No turning back.
For the first time in several standard weeks, Trey left his desk, went back into his room, and lay down on his bed to sleep—the first time in a long time he hadn’t fallen asleep amongst datapads and maintenance reports….
Twenty-six year old Trey Xiven, captain of the Enforcer, second-in-command of the Aleet Army, the man directly in charge of keeping everything running smoothly, calmly, and without any problems, felt like an idiot.
Trey marched up to Jacin’s door. He reached the room, pressed the button to ring the chimes, and then impatiently stepped through the door.
The room, dimly lit, smelled of stale air and rotten food. A figure, covered in shadows, sat on the couch, barely stirring at the abrupt entrance.
“By all means, Captain,” the figure on the couch said with a skeletal grin, “come in.”
Trey waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lowered lights. He resisted the urge to turn them up to their brightest setting. His words, however, came freely.
“Don’t start with me,” Trey said. “I’m not in the mood.”
“I can tell. What seems to be the problem?”
Trey forced himself to unclench his fists. “It’s nothing, Commander.”
“It must be bad if you couldn’t wait three seconds for me to tell you to come in.”
Trey swallowed, hard. He tired of the smug words from this man’s mouth lately. But technically, Jacin Jaxx was still in charge, still the commander of the Aleet Army, even if Trey did all the work.
“It’s nothing that won’t be remedied soon, Commander.”
The thin figure shifted. “If you aren’t here to chat, why are you here?”
Trey sat. The small amount of light in the room danced across the older man’s face revealing sunken eyes and pale features.
“It’s about your sessions with the new doctors.” Trey couldn’t even say their names. Anger welled up inside him at the thought of Riel and his brother together.
“What about them?”
Trey’s anger shifted toward Jacin. “Don’t play games. You know what I’m talking about. Your lack of cooperation, your refusal to submit to tests, and your overall disrespect for them.”
“Protective of your brother?”
The words struck Trey like a punch to his chest. “How did you know he’s my brother?”
The corners of Jacin’s mouth rose in the shape of a smile. Although the lips moved, there was no accompanying happiness.
“How do I know anything? It’s not hard to tell. Your energies are similar and radiate off both of you.”
This was the first time he knew Jacin had used his abilities on him. He wondered if there had been other times when Jacin had probed his mind—maybe even changed his thoughts?
“The female doctor, Riel, is quite gifted,” Jacin continued. “But your brother—he really has a spark to him. He could become quite a powerful empath, if he would let himself. Pity he carries so much self-doubt. Perhaps someday he will meet someone he trusts enough to let himself be truly open to his surroundings.”
Trey’s jaw set. “If these two are so good, then why don’t you let them help you? It’s obvious something is wrong. You barely eat, hardly sleep, and from the smell of things, probably haven’t bathed recently either.”
Jacin’s eyes glimmered for a moment before they dulled again. “What’s the point?”
“What do you mean ‘what’s the point?’ You’re allowing yourself to waste away and to be honest, I can’t keep you going anymore.”
“Nobody asked you to.”
“If I didn’t, you would sink farther into the abyss. How are you supposed to help others when you can’t even take care of yourself?”
Jacin snorted. “Help others? When is the last time I helped anyone?”
“Well, three months ago you stopped that war—”
“And how many lives were lost when rioters and protestors stormed the streets after I ‘helped’?” Jacin interrupted. “How many of those protestors were then murdered by my army?”
“We have to sacrifice the few to save the many, Commander,” Trey recited.
Color came back to Jacin’s cheeks. “And what constitutes the few? Ten? A hundred? A million to save a billion? Would you sacrifice yourself? Your family?”
“To help create peace? Yes.”
Jacin let out a wispy laugh. “Don’t you see? Every time we try to do something right, something else goes wrong. We can’t fix things, no one can.”
“Then what’s the point of doing anything?”
Jacin sat back into the couch. “If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t be in the mess I’m in today.”
Trey stood. “I don’t believe you. I can’t believe you. What about the thousands like me you saved? You can’t tell me all our lives weren’t worth it.”
“Worth what? You wanted me to punish everyone who did anything that hurt you. Why are you more important than they are?”
“Because they are WRONG,” Trey shouted while he paced. “They don’t deserve to live after everything they’ve done. You think because you’ve ‘fixed’ those who are in control then everyone is better. What about the ones who chose to follow orders from their government? Why weren’t they punished or changed? They were just as wrong.”
“Says you.”
Trey whipped around and glared at the man on the couch. “I am so sick of the condescending garbage coming from your mouth. You spew rhetoric that has nothing to do with justice. Those who are wrong should be made to face the consequences.”
“And what gives me the right to dole out punishment? I’m not judge and jury.”
“No.” Trey spat the word at him. “But you seem to have no problem being the executioner when it suits your own needs.”
Jacin’s lips lost their smirk and thinned. “You are teetering dangerously on the edge of insubordination, Captain. Don’t forget who is in charge here.”
Trey let out a burst of laughter.
“In charge? Let’s think for a moment, shall we? Who is in charge?” Trey knew he shouldn’t speak, but the words had a life of their own. “Most, and I mean those who see you on the news or hear about you from their friends, would say you are in charge. You are the Commander and have the power, the gifts, and the ability to turn someone’s brain into a pile of mush if you want.
“But what happens when the spotlights turn off and the doors close? Who’s in charge then? The half-dead, power-hungry, sorry-for-himself, pitiful thing that sits before me? Or me, who at every bad turn has covered up your indiscretions, changed tactics, and kept plans in progress no matter the cost?”
Trey’s emotions poured out through his words. “For five years I’ve been captain of this ship and for two of those years I’ve run this entire operation. I make your appointments, I negotiate your contracts, I cover up your indiscretions, and I instruct the different units of our army where to go, what to do, and how to do it. Our soldiers turn to me for the final call. I have disregarded your instructions and the
soldiers have followed me. I have plotted missions without your knowledge and the soldiers have followed me. They follow me because without the power, the fear, or the fanfare, I am their leader. I don’t need special abilities or gifts. I still get everything done because ultimately, I am in charge.”
Trey stormed toward the door. “You will meet with Riel and Dru this afternoon. You will cooperate with them and you will get better.”
Jacin watched the door close behind Trey. The light diminished, leaving him once again wrapped in shadows. He pulled his feet out from underneath him and stood, heading for the washroom. He thought about having to leave his quarters in a few standard hours to see the doctors again and let out a sigh of exhaustion at the thought. He knew they were talented at what they did, but they couldn’t help him.
No one could.
As he dragged his feet grudgingly along the floor, Jacin wondered: When no one can help you, what else is there left to do?
Trey awoke, ill at ease. His pillow was soft, his bed comfortable, and yet his skin crawled.
He had not expected to see the moment before Jacin decided to take his own life. He’d seen Jacin’s actual suicide so many times in his previous nightmares he’d forgotten about the argument right before.
Trey believed he’d had control back then—that Jacin had become his puppet so Trey could save those who needed saving. But his belief hadn’t been true, had it? Because Jacin had been right. When he died and those powers vanished, everything fell apart. No one cared what Trey had done. No one listened to him when he tried to rally those he’d fought so desperately to save.
And now here he was, trying to control the same power, this time through Daith.
But this time it’s different, he thought. This time Daith won’t use her powers until I say she can. I’ll have absolute control over her. And with Exarth’s fleet on my side, no one will be able to challenge me.
Trey slid uneasily back into sleep, dark like the emptiness of space.
But as blackness pulled him under, Trey wondered if he really had any control at all.
Eomix Galaxy Books: Illusion Page 24