by Ray, Joseph
He took another sip, determined not to let his shadows cast over his present. The glass was returned to the table, along with a hand over the top to prevent Tana from filling it once more.
“I think I’ve had my fill,” he muttered. “So, are you and the Commander……?”
She sat up in her chair, a smile stretching from ear to ear, and her cheeks glowing pink. She took a sip, then gently sat the empty glass on the table.
“Oh no,” she started. “I am only his publicist.”
“Publicist? What does a Commander need with a publicist?”
“Everything,” she laughed. “Overseers are seen as heroes on Eden, especially to the children. I know a bit of Earth’s history, enough to know that some of your people need people like me for similar reasons. Where your world used to celebrate people who were athletes, actors, or politicians, on Eden, we celebrate leaders, such as our Queen, and our Overseers. We ensure that people, like the Commander, are held to the highest appreciation with our people, and we don’t allow our heroes to forget whom they serve.”
“That sounds elegant, I guess.”
“Yes, I suppose it is. Besides, he has his own little blonde-haired minx, warming his bed as we speak.”
“What, you don’t approve?”
“She is an outsider, she shouldn’t be with someone as regarded as the Commander.”
“I see,” Nathan replied, suddenly realizing that he matched the description of the woman she spoke so ill of.
“I don’t know, there’s just something about her I don’t trust.”
“Who is she, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Her name is Emilia though we are forbidden from asking anything more about her. That is what makes my stomach churn.”
“I thought Eden didn’t allow outsiders citizenship.”
“Typically, we do not. Emilia, however, is someone important. The daughter of some dignitary, such as the rumors say. Her parents must be very high ranking dignitaries for the Queen to allow her to live here.”
She suddenly realized that she was scowling, and turned her head towards the door in embarrassment. She thought the rest of the conversation through, adding to her discomfort.
“I am so sorry, Nathan,” she whispered, turning to face him. “We bring you here under such dark circumstances, fight your efforts at every turn, fill you with wine, and then make you relive your sorrowful tales. You must think me to be wicked.”
“No, I can’t imagine ever thinking of you that way.”
She smiled, her warmth nearly melting his insides. She leaned forward, slowly, her long lashes batting once before drawing shut, just before her lips pressed to his.
5 CHAPTER FIVE
Nathan sat on the end of the bed, the new sun pouring through the circular window, casting his shadow upon the stone wall. A tanned leg stuck out from the red sheet, the blanket just covering Tana’s upper thigh as she lay on her stomach, grasping the pillow for comfort. He ignored the dark-haired beauty with his eyes, but her actions swam through his mind.
The swirling thoughts began the moment her lips pressed to his. He’d never considered himself to be an ugly man, but neither was he the pillar of attraction, such as Bastiian Dayne. The woman sharing his bed was far out of his league, leaving him to question why she wanted him so badly. The thought had occurred to him that it was some strange Eden custom that led to their pairing. If that were the case, he’d have to find more reasons to visit the land of Queen Devin.
Other possibilities had taken form as well. As an Investigator, he’d developed his ability to determine when someone was lying. As a man in his mid-thirties, he’d learned to tell when a woman was into him. Last night was not the first time a woman had thrown herself at him during an investigation though he was struggling to grasp what the Publicist had to gain by faking her affections. He’d already cast his decision not to interfere with the execution, which reminded him he needed to be cleaned and dressed to attend. He possessed no authority over her, thus leaving him nothing for her to gain through him.
As he gathered his clothes, he attempted to focus on the fact that she simply WANTED to be with him. This wouldn’t be the first time that a woman from an exotic planet thought his Earth accent was sexy, or that his title sounded erotic. Those times, however, were passes from women that were within his league. Tana, with her tanned skin, slim figure, and flawless beauty was as far above his league as he was to a goat.
The guest room was larger than he’d anticipated. Much like the rest of Eden, everything was made from stone and wood. The floor was smoothed stoned, sanded down to a fine enough finish to not cut one’s feet, though rough enough to allow for traction. The stone continued to the walls though shaped in blocks rather than the various shapes beneath his feet. The corners and beams overhead were a light-stained wood, the windows displaying various flowers that were stretched out into pink, yellow, and blue shadows on the floor. There was a long desk with a chair, a sofa, a bookcase filled with local writings, and a nightstand. A door next to an empty closet proved to be a bathroom, complete with its own shower.
He wasted little time turning on the water from a granite handle. The water poured from a seven-inch by a four-inch hole in the wall, sending a river that crashed onto the tile floor and drain. He gathered the oddly shaped soap and a washcloth, going to work on the familiar task, in unfamiliar settings. The waterfall was cooler than he cared for but warm enough as to not warrant rushing through the cleaning. The soap smelled familiar, like the ocean with a hint of vanilla. He ran his hand over the door, thinking it to be wooden at first. His fingers caught the lie, telling him it was a smooth surface, like the transitional plastic they used for windows. The light woodgrain pattern was likely digital, but it set well with the dark stone of the bathroom.
The towel was impossibly soft, leaving him to wonder why the sheets weren’t made of the glorious fabric. The towel sucked the moisture from his skin, leaving a faint layer on his body that must have been from a lotion built into the soap. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, then searched the small shelf on the wall for a shaving kit. He found a strange, handheld device, with three buttons on the top, but was uncertain if he wanted to tempt fate.
“Allow me,” Tana whispered from the doorway.
He handed the black cased device over to her, allowing her slender fingers to trace his wrist before she scooped it out of his hand. She placed it on the edge of the black marble sink, then picked up a small, clear brown bottle from the shelf. She removed the cap and poured a thick, clear liquid onto the palm of her hands, which she rubbed into her palms, slid behind Nathan, and rubbed into his face. The liquid felt cold to his skin but instantly warmed by the soft fingers that traced the bones of his cheeks and neck.
With the lubricant applied, she returned the cap to the bottle, the bottle to the shelf, and withdrew the strange device from the sink. She turned it over, showing him the hundreds of tiny holes on the rounded-off end of the shaver (he assumed). He couldn’t tell what she did on the other side of the device, but it softly hummed as she lifted it to his face. The surface felt cool to the touch, but the serrated edges of the holes never grabbed at his hairs, nor sliced into his skin.
His muscles tensed as her naked body pressed against his back, leaving him partially aroused from her skin against his, and partially uncomfortable with the role reversal. Somehow, he always felt the man should be the big spoon. Her hands traced his face with the shaver, slowly gliding upon his skin as she stretched to her toes and rested her chin on his shoulder. Her dark eyes caught his in the mirror, a smile forming upon her dark lips. Ten minutes passed before he realized the task had been completed, her fingers continuing to trace the edges of his jaw and neck.
“I need one of those,” he laughed, running his hand across his face. “I didn’t feel anything.”
“What do you use on Earth?” she asked, reaching around him to wash off the shaver.
“Something similar, but nowhere as effici
ent. Thanks, that was kinda nice.”
“Just kinda?” she asked, turning his shoulders to the side and sliding between him and the sink. Her hands draped over his neck as she leaned up and gently bit his lower lip. The alcohol from last night still lingered on her breath but left a sweet taste to her kiss.
He closed his eyes, fully accepting her advancement as his hands gently closed on her shoulders, traced her arms, and then slid down to her muscular hips. The skin remained soft, firm, and like home. Her mouth opened, her tongue gently sliding between his lips. He wanted to take her into the shower, to continue the joining under the river of lukewarm water. His brain, however, reminded him that he had a task to complete and places to be.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, pulling away from her embrace. His hands retraced their steps, continuing past her shoulders, down her slender arms, and taking her hands in his. He raised her fingers to his lips, kissing each one in turn, then wrapped his fingers over hers and held them to his hairy chest. “I have an execution to attend.”
“You say such sweet things,” she mocked, leaning in for one last kiss.
They dressed in silence though Nathan managed to watch her slip into last night’s dress through the corner of his eye. He knew she’d caught him as her hands slowed down, carefully scraping the edges of the material against her curves before sliding the straps over her sleeves. His mind damned him for taking an execution over the soft touch of the young woman though he reminded himself that such adventures were fleeting. She smiled as she turned back to him, blowing a kiss, then gazing upon him as she pulled the door closed behind her.
Nathan let out a sigh of regret, then finished brushing yesterday’s particles and hairs from his gray jacket before sliding it over his shoulders. He opened the door, expecting to find an empty hallway, and was thusly startled at the sight of Bastiian Dayne staring him down.
“You will keep my Queen waiting if you do not hurry,” Bastiian informed him.
“I wouldn’t expect her to wait on me,” Nathan stated coldly as they trekked the hallway, side by side. “I’m sure they’ll die just the same.”
They continued the trip to the courtyard in silence, Nathan slowing down and allowing the Commander to take the lead as they descended the steps. Rows of Overseers lined the courtyard behind the condemned. Those in blue coloring stood in front, with two rows of gray standing watch behind them. To the right of the clear chambers that held the prisoners, rested a covered throne, similar to the Queen’s, only smaller and less eccentric. The Queen stood before her chair, her brown eyes bearing down upon the Commander as he escorted the Agent to stand before her.
To the open side of the clear chambers spread an open grass area, with crowds of citizens impatiently waiting for the spectacle. They were surrounded with a building to the right corner, a tall stone wall directly behind them, and an archway leading to the street back and to their left. A velvet rope swayed in the breeze, held by wooden post that protruded from the grass. A few people stood before the ropes, dressed in long coats of blue leather, whom Nathan guessed were the local law enforcement.
The Commander was in full armor, the golden trim basking in the morning sun, giving off tiny bits of sunburst as he walked. His golden cloak swayed with his steps, enough to show the Agent that he did not carry his gravity shield for this event. Three armored guards stood before the condemned, one of them reaching out and taking Nathan’s arm, preventing him from passing. Nathan stopped, realizing that he was to remain in his current position. He nodded to the guard, whom released his grip and returned to his post. Calloway turned his focus to the Queen, folding his hands before him.
Commander Bastiian Dayne scaled the three steps, taking his place by the Queen’s right side. He turned in place, facing Nathan as the crowd drew silent. His eyes swept over the crowd, catching two small drones circling overhead. Their tiny harrier motors ran at a high-pitch, preventing anyone who wasn’t a dog from hearing them. The appearance of drones surprised the Agent, as the primitive appearance of Eden often left him unwilling to recall the vast technology the people used. He knew the drones had cameras that would broadcast the execution on the stream, something he would object to had he been permitted.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of Pinnacle,” Queen Reanna Devin shouted. “Thank you for humbling us with your presence on this fine morning. As you well know, the men before you were found guilty of slaving, a crime punishable by death.”
The crowd booed at the mentioning of the crime.
“The stranger you see before you is Agent Nathan Calloway, from the Interplanetary Investigative Unit on Earth, and acting Military Advisor for Common Law.”
A small percentage of the crowd clapped.
“I have asked Agent Calloway to witness our execution, to show that we will never bow to the foulness that plagues our sister worlds. We do not enjoy what we have been forced to do, but the laws of the home world of the condemned have left us little choice but to take justice into our own hands. Take a moment and look at the foul creatures before you.”
The crowd hissed and booed as they stared down the men in the clear chambers. Nathan turned as well, noting the thick, metallic boxes that lined the top and bottom of the chambers. There were only three, leaving the prisoners to share their murder boxes with one another. At that moment, Nathan realized that the crowd was looking to him as well, still hissing and booing. He doubted his placement was a mishap, though he backed up several paces, leaving a clear view for the crowd. He focused on the eyes of the people in the front row, breathing a sigh of relief that their gaze hadn’t followed him.
“Sons of Mesa,” Reanna continued, turning to the prisoners. “Under the watchful eyes of our Lord, our people, and our Overseers, you have been known to attempt the forceful taking of our people, your intentions to turn our citizens into slaves to be sold on the markets of your foul world. Do you have any proof to state otherwise?”
The men in the boxes began to shout, but the thickness of the clear panels did not allow for sound to penetrate. Somehow, Nathan knew the question was a weak formality, someone’s sick joke against the wicked. To the Agent’s surprise, the Queen turned her dark eyes towards him. Her eyes were thickly lined with black makeup, her dress as dark with tiny sequins that sparkled in the morning sun. Her brow furrowed as she looked down upon him.
“Agent Calloway,” she shouted. “You are a man of the Common Law. A bond shared amongst the many planets that mankind calls home. At this time, I will allow for you to speak on their behalf, and towards the behalf of the Common Law.”
Nathan nearly dropped a load in his pants as he realized how unprepared he was to make a formal speech. His face mirrored the expression of the Queen, a sarcastic symbol of gratitude towards her offering. He turned slowly, trying to stall as his mind searched for the correct words.
“People of Eden,” he shouted. “I apologize for being a lawman, and not a public speaker. I’ve shared an audience with Queen Reanna Devin and pled the case for Common Law to be acknowledged. Your Queen, however, has shown me the error in Common Law, which would send these slavers back to Mesa for trial.”
The crowd hissed at the mentioning of returning the slavers to their home. Nathan waited for them to settle before continuing.
“However, as your Queen as pointed out, there are too many witnesses to their crime to require a trial, under the law of Eden. As an I.I.U. Agent, I am bound by the laws on which the crime is committed, first and foremost. Therefore, I have no choice but to allow for this execution to take place.”
The crowd cheered, forcing the front policemen to turn and quiet the people. Nathan raised a hand and waited for silence.
“However, I must speak on behalf of MY people. In a sense, all of our people. There was a time, on the home world to all people, in which the condemned were inflicted with justice with no form of trial. Over the years, the people cried out for mercy, for the opportunity to prove their innocence. The centuries passed, showing more and more coun
tries that adopted the formal trial, placing the accused before the mercy of a trusted court. In some countries, the guilt or innocence of the accused was determined by a jury, consisting of their own peers. This system was adopted in multiple countries, and stood for centuries as the cornerstone of the Criminal Justice System.”
Nathan half-turned, looking back and forth from the condemned, to the Queen, and to the crowd.
“I will not attempt to state that these men are innocent. The Overseers having documented videos of the crimes and showed them to me yesterday. I do not speak towards their innocence, but rather to your system. What if there were more at stake than the lives of these men? What if there was a hand that moved them to action? With no formal investigation having taken place, we will NEVER know the truth behind their actions. What if this cowardly attack is merely the tip of the iceberg? What if grander schemes have been planned for your people and your world? While the actions of these men are unforgivable, the truth could be found through a formal investigation.”
“We demand justice!” a woman screamed from the crowd.
“I understand that,” Nathan replied. “I do not mean to save these men from their punishment, only a stay of the execution to allow for a……”
“He held a gun to my daughter’s head,” a man in the front shouted.
A pit formed in Nathan’s stomach. His senses dulled as he watched the faces of the crowd, their gaping mouths melting together in a sea of anger. The realization slapped him that he would never sway these people. They thought with their hearts, not with their minds. He turned to the Queen, nodded, and took several steps away from the clear chambers.
“Very well,” Queen Reanna shouted. “The Agent has conceded to the execution. Under the laws of our people, I condemn these men to death. May God have mercy upon your souls, for you shall find none here today.”
Commander Bastiian Dayne stepped down from the shaded awning, pulling a square device from his belt. The shield closed over his helmet as his fingers punched a command into the tablet. A high whirl filled the air around the chambers, tiny lines of sparks snapping from the metallic boxes above and below the clear chambers.