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Prophecy (Book One in the Prophecy Series)

Page 4

by Lea Kirk


  An invisible band tightened around Alex’s chest. Slaves. The concept had seemed so abstract before, but somehow Kotas’s words drove the truth home. This was real; they were slaves. She exchanged a look with Nicky. He appeared ready to vomit.

  Kotas turned to Dante and said something in a lilting language that must be Matiran. Lieutenant Commander Zola gasped, and Dante’s face turned from blue to ash-grey.

  “You cannot do such,” Dante said.

  “I assure you, Chief, I can. And I will.” Kotas replied. Then he gave Gryf another oily smile before striding out of the cell. “Time to go, Velo.”

  The stunning Matiran woman eyed Commander Roble as she ran her finger down the center of Nicky’s chest. Roble’s eyes narrowed, as if a threat had been issued. With a smirk, Velo turned and followed Kotas from the cell. The Anferthians stepped into the corridor and the door telescoped in, the opening getting smaller until it was a solid wall again.

  Alex gave herself a mental shake and pushed herself up to stand. It was time to set a few things straight. “What did he say to you, Dante?”

  Dante hesitated, and Gryf said something in a foreign language. Really? What the hell? She jabbed a finger in the almighty captain’s direction. “Don’t you dare order him not to say anything. You owe us an explanation.”

  “Amen,” Simone agreed moving closer to Alex in a show of unity. Nicky rose too, and Juan with him, the little boy’s wide brown eyes clouded with confusion. At six years old, he couldn’t be expected to understand the tension between the adults in the room.

  Gryf spread his hands in a placating gesture. “And that is why I asked Dante to wait.”

  “Who was that man, Gryf? And why is he walking around like he owns the place?”

  His lips compressed into a thin line. “That was Vyn Kotas, a former...colleague.”

  “The Betrayer.” Zola stood with her fists clenched at her sides, a fierce expression on her fac. Mental note: Stay on this woman’s good side.

  “Karise,” Gryf warned.

  The Matiran woman closed her mouth, but the fire in her eyes didn’t go out. “Sorry, sir.”

  Pain etched Gryf’s face when he turned his attention back to Alex. “The Anferthians invaded your planet because I failed to recognize the depth of Kotas’s animosity toward me after he was discharged from the Guardian Fleet.”

  Alex crossed her arms in front of her. “And exactly what is a Guardian Fleet?”

  “Forgive my oversight, Alexandra. The Guardian Fleet is a sub-fleet of the Matiran Defense Fleet. We have guarded Terr—our name for your planet—for close to twelve thousand years.”

  Her mouth fell open. Twelve thousand years? Holy crap. “Um, guarded from what, exactly?”

  “From races like the Anferthians. There are those in the galaxy who would have exploited your technologically-deficient ancestors. When the Matirans first discovered your home-world and made contact with its indigenous people, it was unintentional.”

  “But there was a good reason,” Karise nodded. “Malfunctioning sensors showed no sentient life forms here.”

  “True,” Gryf continued. “Yet from this mistake, a friendship between two worlds developed. For a time our peoples worked well together. Eventually, some intermarried. Only a select few Terrians ever knew that we were not truly from a Utopian island in the sea.

  “Then other races in the galaxy became curious about what the Matirans were doing on this tiny planet on the Edge, and our ancestors knew they must leave and allow your people to evolve naturally. But their presence here had drawn the attention of the galaxy, and the Matirans would not leave their beloved friends here unprotected. The Matiran government filed a Galaxy Claim for Mining Rights on Terr, and for twelve millennia Matir has been ‘mining’ your ‘uninhabited’ planet.”

  Alex snapped her mouth shut and gave her head a slight shake. It seemed far-fetched, but Gryf didn’t strike her as someone prone to making up stories.

  Gryf swept one arm around the cell. “My crew and I have dedicated ourselves—our lives—to protecting your planet. Serving as a Guardian is a time-honored tradition.”

  They’d bald-faced lied to the rest of the universe in order to give Earthlings time to grow-up? Huh. Go figure. “If you...Matirans...were here, then why don’t we have any record of it?”

  Gryf shook his head. “Great measures were taken to conceal our original contact with your people. Even so, there may be tales which have survived into your generation.”

  “You’re right about that.” Nicky looked from Alex to Gryf. “Didn’t you say your ship is called the Atlantis?”

  “It is.” Gryf nodded.

  “Then there is a record, sort of.” Nicky twisted his mouth into a half-smile. “The Lost Continent of Atlantis.”

  If a ton of bricks had fallen on her, Alex couldn’t have been more surprised. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

  “The Atlantis was large, but hardly a continent.” Gryf shrugged his hands. “Your lost continent was an early incarnation of our current flagship.”

  “Great earthquakes and an impassable mud shoal,” Nicky paraphrased an account of the sinking of Atlantis. “I’m guessing your ship would have been big enough to create both those things when it took off.”

  “It was indeed.”

  Nicky looked at Alex again. “Dad would love this.”

  Yes, he would. Not only was their father the head of the history department at the university near their home in Damon Beach, he also had a passion for anything and everything related to the Atlantis myth. Not an all-consuming passion that tried to force the myth into recorded history, but he had filled their young heads with stories on the topic. She and Nicky had often made up their own stories, play-acting them out with the enthusiasm of children exploring their imaginations. And that had been Dad’s point—for them to use their imaginations.

  Dad wouldn’t just love this, he’d be doing freaking back-flips.

  “If being a Guardian is such a time-honored tradition, then what the hell went wrong today?” Dennis asked from his spot on the floor.

  Gryf shifted his attention to Dennis. “Former Commander Kotas was passed over thrice for captaincy. I was aware of the animosity he bore for me after I was advanced to this rank ahead of him, though I was a full two years behind him. He challenged my advancement to senior captain of the Guardian Fleet, which subsequently led to his discharge. I failed to ascertain his whereabouts afterward. If I had, I could have prevented an Anferthian agent from corrupting him.”

  Graig Roble growled. “He was already corrupt. He blames you for something you had no control over.”

  Gryf narrowed his eyes at the man. “As the senior captain, it was my responsibility to assess all threats to the fleet and to Terr. I failed to do so,” he replied in a clipped voice.

  “If anyone failed, it was the fleet brass. They should have kept an eye on Kotas, not you. Blaming yourself—”

  “Enough, Commander Roble!” Gryf cut him off.

  Silence fell like a heavy blanket over the group. Something warm touched Alex’s leg, and she startled. Juan’s dark eyes gazed up at her, his hand pressed against her thigh.

  “Why is Cap’n Gryf angry?” the boy whispered.

  “He’s not exactly angry, sweetie, he’s had a difficult week.”

  Gryf closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and gave Juan a gentle smile. “Yes, a very difficult week, Juan. I do not mean to upset you.” He turned to Dennis. “Kotas did betray us, and the Anferthians managed to board the Atlantis one evening after I went off duty. It was the beginning of a night of blood-shed that did not end until my surrender.”

  Alex frowned. “Wait a minute. How did they get aboard if Kotas wasn’t there?”

  Gryf shot a quick glance at Commander Roble. “He had an agent aboard.”

  “That woman, Haesi?”

  Another glance was exchanged between the two men, and Roble stiffened. “She was one of my people in security. She is…very good.”
r />   This time it was Karise who snorted. “Haesi Velo is very good at one thing: deceit. She aligns herself with people who hold power.”

  Roble shot a glare at her, but Gryf interrupted any further exchange. “Paci. Peace, my friends. Speculation will get us nowhere.”

  The eyes of all the Matirans in the cell were on Gryf, their respect for their captain clear. That kind of respect was earned.

  Gryf gave the healer a nod. “Dante.”

  Dante looked down at Dennis. “Kotas just gave me an ultimatum, Dennis. I must heal you in ten days, or he will kill you.”

  A knot of fear formed in Alex’s gut. This was so not good.

  “Alexandra.”

  She jerked her head up. Gryf had moved closer. His gaze bore into hers, sorrow and pain clouding the deep-blue depths of his eyes. “This will not be easy to hear, but almost the entire sentient population of your planet has been annihilated. You are among the few who survived. I know this because I was forced to watch the slaughter as it happened. Forced to watch the results of my complacence. And I will not ask for your forgiveness, because I do not deserve it.”

  She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “What are the chances that my parents are still alive?”

  His gaze didn’t waver, and her heart constricted. “The Anferthians are most interested in your planet—to what end, I do not know. Terrian slaves are merely a small bonus to be sold for profit to worlds that still practice slavery. The chances that your parents survived are less than point zero one percent.”

  The room seemed to shrink. Gryf’s revelation was like a pile driver crushing her chest. She had so hoped the odds were better.

  “Shit,” Nicky hissed, balling his hands at his sides. “Shit, fuck, and goddammit.”

  “Nicholaus….” She clamped her lips together. What could she say? Nothing would make the situation better for either of them.

  Her brother stalked away to thump his fists against the cold metal wall furthest from the group.

  God help us all.

  Chapter Five

  The following morning, Alex stared up at the ceiling of the dimly-lit slave cell. Things had gone from bad to worse with head-spinning velocity yesterday. She pushed herself upright on the cold metal floor and rolled her shoulders to alleviate the stiffness in her muscles. Last night had been the longest she’d ever experienced. Which was apropos given that yesterday seemed like the longest day of her life.

  At least they had finally received food. Some sort of hand-sized, orange protein loaf. Even though Dante assured them it would meet their daily nutritional requirements, Alex couldn’t see how they’d maintain weight with once-a-day feedings. And Juan, being a stubborn kid with picky eating habits, was in the most danger of all.

  She massaged her temples with her fingertips. Everything was lost. Her home was gone, her people slaughtered, and her planet occupied by hostile aliens. What a freaking nightmare. If Gryf was right, she and Nicky would never see their parents again. The emptiness in her heart tore at her. Everything seemed so hopeless. Yesterday morning she was a first-year-nurse working in the county ER in Damon Beach. And now...now she was supposedly a slave. This kind of stuff didn’t happen in real life. It couldn’t.

  Her gaze was drawn to where Simone slept on the hard floor, and a heavy ache settled into her gut. The other woman’s dark skin was reminder enough that this kind of stuff did happen. Earth’s history was full of such atrocities. Damn it. All she’d wanted was to care for people too sick to care for themselves. And maybe find someone to share her journey with one day. Now all that was gone.

  Her bladder chose that moment to send her an urgent message. Swell. She turned her head to peer over her shoulder. The dark silhouette of the bathroom partition loomed, silently taunting anyone who dared to forsake modesty to come in and use the hole-in-the-floor toilet.

  Alex wrinkled her nose. At least most everyone was asleep at the moment. Only Dante was awake, on watch. It was now or never...and never wasn’t an option. As she climbed to her feet, she locked gazes with a pair of gorgeous sapphire eyes. Crap. Gryf was awake, and he lay on his back with his head cradled in his arms, watching her. Didn’t that just figure? Well, it wasn’t as if she could ask him to plug his ears. She stepped over Nicky’s sleeping form and headed to the bathroom.

  When she emerged, she scrutinized the prone forms of her cellmates in the corner near the door. No part of her wanted to go back there. She turned toward the corner furthest from the others. According to Karise, in the week proceeding Alex’s arrival Gryf had established that corner for private conversations, and as a place to retreat for personal meditation. Well, he wasn’t the only one who needed private time. Alex lowered herself and snugged her bottom into the rounded corner. The floor dipped just enough to be comfortable. Now she understood why Gryf liked to retreat here.

  Nicky made a snork sound in his sleep and rolled over. Her mouth curved up a fraction. If Gryf was right, her brother was all the family she had left. Her heart contracted as though a metal band tightened around it, and she squeezed her eyes tight against the ever-present threat of tears. There was no going back.

  She rested her arms on her drawn-up knees and buried her face against them. Gryf hadn’t sugarcoated the situation—slavery still existed in the galaxy, and the Anferthians were one of the races who actively owned and marketed slaves. The Earthlings would be sold, and not necessarily to the same owner. Losing her brother to slavery just couldn’t happen. There had to be a way out of here.

  “May I sit with you?”

  Alex startled then lifted her head and looked up at Gryf. As impossible as the situation seemed, his presence seemed to make it better.

  She gave herself a mental shake. What was she thinking? Nothing could make it better, not even this man. She shrugged one shoulder. “Sure. Go ahead.”

  He sank to the floor to sit cross-legged in front of her. “You did not sleep.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but she shook her head anyway. “Not well.”

  “It is understandable.”

  “You haven’t either, have you?”

  “Dante makes sure I am rested, but no...I have not slept well on my own since the fall of the Guardians.”

  That wasn’t healthy. “You mean that Dante uses his Gift to help you sleep?”

  “Yes. It is called dormio, the healing sleep.”

  She shifted her gaze to the toes of her nursing shoes. They’d once been clean and white. What an odd thought. Did it matter how clean or white they’d been? Or that her rose-pink scrubs were now covered in dirt and grass stains—and torn in several places? She slid a finger into the ripped fabric at her knee.

  Gryf’s hand moved as though to reach for her, then he stopped and placed it back on his leg. A warm flush rushed to her cheeks and she frowned.

  “I don’t need your pity, you know.” She wiggled her finger in the rip. “It’s enough that I’m feeling sorry for myself, so just say whatever it is you want to say.”

  “I do not pity you, Alexandra,” he replied softly. “I feel empathy for your losses, but I would never pity you. You are a strong soul, and deserve more respect than that from me, or anyone.”

  Her gaze met his again. No, there was no pity there. But there was sincerity, and...admiration? She didn’t deserve that. But clearly he meant what he said. She fought the smile that wanted out. If she wasn’t careful, she could learn to like this alien. Would that be so terrible? Maybe not. If he found a way out of here, she’d make damn certain she and Nicky went with him. Gryf didn’t seem like the type of guy who would abandon others simply because of an insurmountable rift. But what did she really know of him?

  “Truly, I am afraid what you would do if I dared pity you.” He touched his fingertips to the soft skin under his eye and grinned.

  A soft snort of laughter escaped her. “Sorry. I had a kind of hard day yesterday.”

  “That you did, yana.”

  “And sometimes I react without th
inking.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched, but he remained silent.

  “What does yana mean?”

  Gryf regarded her as though weighing his reply carefully. Were his cheeks getting darker? It was hard to tell in the dim light. He licked his lips. “It means, my friend—gender specific to a woman. A male would be ropo.”

  She stared at him. His friend? Really?

  “I will not use it again if it makes you uncomfortable,” he offered.

  Her heart thudded in her chest. On the one hand, the term was a little too personal. On the other, she kind of liked it. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He nodded. “It does make you uncomfortable, this I see. I will refrain from using it in the future.”

  A pin-prick of disappointment poked at her heart, but she gave him a half smile anyway. “How did you learn English?”

  “Transmissions from your planet, both audio and visual.” He rolled his shoulders as if to shake off stiffness. “It was a trickle at first, but as your technology grew, we had to scramble to block them from the ears of others. It was a nightmare when you began sending unmanned probes into space. The information your people chose to share with unknown races was a blue print to your own destruction.”

  Alex swallowed. He must be talking about the Voyager missions. There might have been others, but the space program had never held her interest. Nicky would know. “Pretty stupid of us, I guess.”

  “Not at all. You were curious, and learning quickly, which gave us hope that we would be soon able to contact your people again. We had estimated another two hundred years, and Terrian technology would be advanced enough to protect your planet should the need arise.”

  Two hundred years? Well after her lifetime. “If not for Kotas and what’s-her-name, I guess.”

  “They did not act alone. There were others, and Kotas chose them wisely. His Gift is his ability to discern what is in the hearts of others.”

 

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