She was wearing a long, black evening gown, split at the leg and backless. Many other guests, dressed equally formally, were gathered around the tables, either chatting casually to one another and laughing lightly, or watching others dance. Ursula saw that those nearest to her were eyeing her closely, as though waiting to see how she would respond to the man’s request. He was still offering his hand, seemingly willing to wait forever for Ursula to accept it. Not wishing to appear rude, she did so, and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, where, joining other couples, they began a slow foxtrot.
Ursula wasn’t much of a dancer, knowing only a few steps, and so allowed the mysterious man to lead, doing her best to avoid treading on his feet. How had she come to be here? Was she dreaming? She must be, although it didn’t feel like a dream. The man’s touch, the warm air on her skin, and her perception and appreciation of where she was told her that this was real.
“Are you enjoying the evening so far, my dear?” the man asked.
“I ... am,” Ursula replied. “Sorry, but who are you?” she then asked.
The man chuckled. “I’m your host for the evening, Ms Lexx. My name is Lance. Lance Skillman.”
Ursula said nothing, trying to place the name. It was totally unfamiliar.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Skillman said. “I hold these events so often and invite so many people that it can be a wonder to many who I am and what I do. I sometimes prefer to melt into the background and just allow my guests to enjoy themselves. It’s a wonderful thing to throw a party and see people having fun, without the need to be the focal point of the celebrations, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes,” Ursula said absently. She remained unsure of where she was and how she had come to be here. She looked again to the faces in the room, searching for any that she might recognise. Not even her sister was here. She would be simple to spot, since she looked just like Ursula herself.
“A shame your sister could not join us,” Skillman said, as though reading her mind. “Where might she be tonight?”
Don’t answer that!
The thought raced through Ursula’s mind, hitting her hard and fast, almost as if someone else had reacted and clamped a hand over her mouth, to stop her from speaking.
Just say you don’t know! another thought came.
“I ... don’t know,” Ursula said, still looking around the gathering of people. So many eyes on her.
“Oh, really? I would have thought the pair of you would be inseparable,” Skillman said.
Don’t even think about where she is!
Ursula agreed silently with the suggestion, though she didn’t know why. She only knew that the thoughts were all being delivered with the same urgency. She remained mute for the time being, allowing Skillman to lead her, letting her feet move automatically, allowing them to place themselves wherever they thought best.
She scanned the room. Black and white balloons hung in the air, some anchored at tables, some on the backs of chairs. She made eye contact with a man who was sitting on his own, sipping a glass of red wine. He had slicked back, jet-black hair, and was sporting a goatee-style beard, tapered into a point.
“Kline Kethlan,” Skillman informed her, as he saw her eyes lingering on the man.
“Military forces,” Ursula said automatically. “The commander of the Corporation’s navy.” How and why did she know that? She looked back at Skillman, noticing that the man’s smile had slipped a little. It returned momentarily, though she was convinced that he was now forcing it. The band continued to play. They danced on.
Ursula surveyed the other occupants of the ballroom. She had the strong impression that many of those here were rich and powerful, perhaps even famous. But other than Kethlan, she didn’t recognise any of them.
She then saw another man watching her closely. Something about him seemed off, however, and even as she looked away from him, his face seemed to change. One moment, it was normal, round, the hair on his head set into a tonsure-style cut of ancient monks. The next, his face was hidden behind a hood, his features concealed, save for the lower portions. The man suddenly appeared thinner, dressed in an unusual purple and white garb. Ursula blinked. The hood was gone, the man’s original clothes restored. Odd. One moment one way; the next, another. She was sure she hadn’t imagined it. It was like something had ... gone wrong.
Almost like a glitch.
A letter drifted through her mind. M.
“Who is that man?” Ursula found herself asking.
“That is Erik Overlook, my main go to man,” Skillman said. He leaned closer to Ursula then. “Just between you and me, he can be a bit of a weasel sometimes. Just ignore him.”
Ursula did so, returning to her study of the other guests. One woman who caught her attention turned and began clapping daintily, looking very pleased.
“My wife is quite taken with you,” Skillman said.
“I beg your pardon?” Ursula said.
“She finds you fascinating – your past and your goals for the future. You are interested in xenobiology, are you not?”
“I am, yes.”
Skillman nodded. “My wife studied it for quite some time before we met. Sadly she didn’t have the head for some of the chemistry, though. She sees you as being the person whom she always aspired to be – with a lifetime ahead to study and focus, and gain greater insight into the origins of the galaxy; possessing a youthful mind, an information sponge, open to new ideas and concepts.”
“She gave up?” Ursula asked, looking the woman over. “That is sad.”
“She has ... taken a step back,” Skillman said.
Skillman danced them closer to his wife, smiling to her himself as he did so. Ursula studied her. She was young-looking, far younger than Skillman. She could well have been half his age. Her eyes were bright, her figure trim, her face wrinkle-free, the skin nearly flawless. She might actually only be a few years older than Ursula herself.
“She is no trophy,” Skillman said, once again seeming to read Ursula’s thoughts.
Are you sure he isn’t? Don’t think of Phoebe. Talk about something else.
The thought once again entered her head, as though someone were whispering them into her ear. Ursula heeded.
“She is very beautiful,” Ursula told the man she danced with.
“Good genes,” Skillman said. He removed his hand from Ursula’s waist but still held her hand, gently. “Please, allow me to introduce you.” He didn’t wait for Ursula to answer, already walking her over to meet the woman. “Jane, this is Ursula Lexx, the xenobiologist in training. Ursula, this is my wife, Jane.”
“Lovely to meet you, Ursula,” Jane said, reaching out a white-gloved hand for Ursula to shake.
“Darling, I have to speak with Erik and the commander. Could you look after Ursula until I return?” Skillman asked. Then he departed, moving over to the table at which Overlook was seated, drawing up a chair and sitting down, beckoning Kethlan over to join him.
“It’s a little hot in here, don’t you think?” Jane began, rising from her seat.
“It is a little,” Ursula said.
“Let’s take a walk in the fresh air,” Jane suggested, plucking two glasses of orange juice from a waiter-held tray, linking arms with Ursula and walking them onto the terrace.
It was cooler outside, though still quite warm. It was clearly summer here. Wherever ‘here’ was. Out here, there were couples speaking softly to one another, as well as the odd guest standing around by themselves, admiring the view. This ballroom appeared to be situated within a cliff-side mansion. Or perhaps it was a hotel. A sea stretched out beyond; Ursula could hear the sound of waves crashing at the base of the cliff, far below. Moonlight glittered across the water.
“Come,” Jane said. “I’m in the mood for a little walk.”
“Where am I?” Ursula asked.
Jane chuckled. “Whatever do you mean? You’re at the Skillman Residence, of course. Best drink your orange juice. I thin
k that perhaps you’ve had a little bit too much wine.”
“No, I mean, I can’t remember how I got here.”
Jane only smiled. “Usually that happens at the end of the evening, not so early on. Tell me about yourself, Ursula. Beautiful name, by the way. Not very common, which I suppose gives it that unusual and attractive quality.” She was silent for a moment, as if reflecting. “It means ‘she-bear’. Did you know that?”
“No,” Ursula said, carrying on walking and sipping at her orange juice.
“Any special reason your parents chose that name for you?” Jane probed.
“I didn’t know my parents, unfortunately,” Ursula said.
Careful, a thought cautioned her. Her unseen guardian angel was still with her, prompting her to mind her tongue.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Jane said. “So, you’re an orphan?”
Ursula nodded. “I was ... raised by an adoptive family,” she said. “I don’t know if my real parents are alive or dead.”
“Do you remember where you were born?” Jane asked, eyeing Ursula closely as she sipped her own orange juice.
Say no.
“No,” Ursula replied. She answered quickly, without any hesitation and almost at a snap.
Jane appraised her carefully as they continued to walk. Her smile was still there, but her eyes betrayed her. The woman was clearly irritated.
“Your husband tells me that you used to study xenobiology,” Ursula said, changing the focus of the conversation. “How long did you study for? Did you go on any investigative trips? I once journeyed to the outer edge of the local arm to search for life. We didn’t find anything, but we encountered some very unusual stars and planets. My dream would be to travel to the galactic core. I know it could well be a one-way trip, but the sights would be incredible, don’t you think?”
What Jane said in response, Ursula did not register. She only wanted the woman to begin monologuing. She didn’t know why, but she felt a sudden urge to get away from the woman – and this place altogether – as quickly as possible. She hoped that the terrace might go all around the building, leading to the front of the mansion, and a way out. But it seemed that the terrace had been constructed on one side only, obliging the two women to turn around as they reached the end. So much for walking a circuit.
“Why the core?” Jane asked.
“The stellar population is very dense in the galactic centre, due to the supermassive black hole,” Ursula stated, her answer to Jane almost automatic. “It would be incredibly resource rich, and any advanced civilizations would gravitate there – if you’ll pardon the pun.”
Jane chuckled lightly. A false chuckle.
Ursula once again attempted to distract Jane. “Would you be more excited to discover a silicon-based lifeform or a robotic civilization?”
She tried to think back to the ballroom as Jane began answering her question. Had there been a lot of doors into it, doors through which she might escape? Although Jane was speaking, Ursula’s attention was drawn to a tall, hefty man coming her way, some sort of device affixed to his ear. The security detail. She recalled that there had been several other men, dressed similarly, in the ballroom by the main doors. No escape that way. She felt now that Skillman and Jane wanted something from her, and neither were prepared to let her leave until they'd got it.
“Is your sister a xenobiologist, too?” Jane said suddenly.
“No,” Ursula said. “She’s ...” She stopped talking without needing a prompt this time.
Jane stared at her. “She’s a what?”
Ursula remained silent.
A lawyer. Say she’s a lawyer.
“She’s a lawyer.”
Jane gave a thin smile. “Are you feeling okay? You took an awfully long time to answer. Maybe you need to sit down for a bit? Or perhaps we could have your sister come and take you home?”
Ursula was really uncomfortable now. She felt as though she was being softened up somehow, being given a false sense of security before something terrible happened ...
... like she had felt back home on Ceradse that time just before she had been mugged.
“Home is Ceradse, isn’t it?” Jane asked. “The city of Rella?”
Ursula came to a halt and gaped.
“Ceradse,” Jane repeated. “You and Phoebe were both born there?”
“How did you know that?”
“You told me.”
“When?”
“Just now. Or perhaps my husband did.”
Ursula looked around again, her heart beginning to thump hard. She ran her hands over the black evening gown she wore. This wasn’t her, she shouldn’t be here. She wasn’t actually here.
“This isn’t real,” Ursula said. “None of this is real.”
Jane swore. “Damn it! She’s twigged!”
“What the hell did you do?” Skillman demanded. The man was suddenly by his wife’s side, having seemingly materialised out of nowhere. “You’re supposed to just pluck at her thoughts, not rip them out and shove them in her face!”
“You’re WEAPCO,” Ursula said to the man. “You’re Lance Skillman, the CEO. You’re not his wife, either. You’re just one of the ... board members or something,” she added, looking at Jane. Ursula began to back away, tripping over the rising steps at the other end of the terrace, but pulling herself quickly to her feet.
“Now come along, Ms Lexx,” Skillman cajoled, raising a hand in a gesture of good will. “We only wish to know where your sister is, that is all.”
That’s a lie! Don’t trust them!
Ursula said nothing, shaking her head and continuing to back away, up the steps.
“We’re not going to harm you.” A man’s voice came from behind. “Either of you.”
Ursula whirled to see Kline Kethlan stood at the top of the small steps. The three had her hemmed in. Almost. She looked over the edge of the terrace to the rocks below, just visible amongst the dark crashing waves.
“Don’t! You’ll die!” Skillman warned.
“No, I won’t,” Ursula said. And in a single bound she was over the parapet.
There was much cursing from the terrace, shouts of irritation. Ursula caught snatches of words as she fell.
“Reset her!”
“She hasn’t been up long enough yet!”
“How long until we can?”
Ursula didn’t hear the rest, the waves rushing up to meet her. At the last moment they parted, revealing the smooth black forms of the rocks beneath them. The impact wouldn’t hurt, she knew, and neither would dying.
In this place, it never did.
Chapter 4
The dead woman had been one of Sid’s neighbours. She lived one floor down, almost directly beneath Sid’s own flat. In these kinds of building, people mostly ignored one another. They would nod as they passed in the hall, or as they stood silently in the lift together, but otherwise would make little effort to get to know one another. In the past, Chris had found this lack of community spirit to be an indictment of a selfish society, where people cared little for those around them. But today, he was glad of it.
“She knew me from when I helped fix her entertainment systems,” Sid explained as he and Chris quickly set about trashing Sid’s living room, emptying a few bullets from the woman’s gun into the wall, to make it appear as though there had been a struggle. A good thing the woman had fitted a silencer to her gun.
“Do you think she bought the gun, especially?” Chris asked, as he replaced the firearm by the dead woman’s side, keeping with him the dishcloth he had used to handle it.
“No,” Sid said. “From what I understand, she works in personal security; gun for hire, that sort of thing.”
“How did she know who you really were?”
“I told her my first name by mistake one day,” Sid admitted. “She must have put two and two together after seeing my picture on the news.”
“They’ve got a picture of you?”
Sid nodded solemnly
.
“There will be others,” Chris said, glancing uncertainly at the front door. “We can’t stay here any longer. More bounty hunters could come up here at any minute, looking for you.”
He once again considered the body of the dead woman on the floor. Short, black hair, rather like Sid’s. Her frame and general body shape were also more like that of a man, than a woman. Because she was face down, Chris hoped that anyone stepping inside the flat would initially assume it was Sid. But then again, Chris himself hadn’t. It would slow someone down for a few minutes at most.
“Maybe we could put some of my clothes on her?” Sid suggested, thinking along the same lines as Chris.
“No time,” Chris said. “Someone would probably come up here while we were in the middle of doing it. Right, you ready?” he asked.
Sid nodded.
“Good. We need to hole up somewhere for a few hours, wait for the drones to thin, and then get to the starport.”
“Where exactly are we going?” Sid asked.
“Getting off-planet and heading over to Hail. That’s where most of the others have retreated to,” Chris said, starting out Sid’s flat. His foot was still killing him. He would need to get that seen to, as well. That would probably cost him six months’ earnings in treatment costs. A good job he was thrifty and had plenty of money to spare.
“We’ll need a change of clothes, as well as some sort of disguise,” Chris told Sid. “The drones will scan and recognise you in moments, otherwise. We’ll need to get rid of your gun, too. We don’t want to be caught with a weapon in public.”
“And they might still be looking for you, too,” Sid pointed out.
A thought struck Chris. “Do you know if that woman lived alone?” he asked, indicating the body.
“As far as I know she did,” Sid replied.
“And she worked in security? She might have the solution to our problem. Grab her pass card and show me where she lives.”
~
The two made their way down to the dead woman’s flat, using her pass card to gain entry. Sid was quick to locate the intruder alarm and disable it. A good job the woman hadn’t opted for any sort of biometric identity systems Chris thought. He began ransacking her bedroom, finding what he was looking for in just a few minutes.
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