ROMULUS (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 1)

by Marilyn Campbell

  When he shivered violently from head to toe, his torturers led him to the chaise, propping up his head and back with pillows. They passed a painted vase amongst them from which each poured a golden liquid into their palms.

  Each woman stationed herself at the end of one of his limbs, and at precisely the same second their hands returned to his body. Beginning at his toes and fingers and working their way inward, their oiled hands manipulated his rippling muscles. The oil smelled spicy and left his skin feeling warm and tingly. A drum joined the flute and the massage took up the beat until his body pulsed to the music.

  Rather than becoming aroused, he was getting drowsy. He closed his eyes and imagined that the wealth around him was truly his and his body reacted accordingly.

  Two pairs of hands worked their way across his shoulders and down his chest and stomach at the same time as four other hands reached his hips. Without any effort on his part now, his blood surged into that region. His eyes flew open again when oily fingers curled around his manhood and massaged that as well. Each slave paid him like homage until he was ready to explode.

  A loud clap brought him back to his senses and sent the women scrambling out of the room. He had forgotten the heavily shrouded person who had brought him here. The mysterious escort came to the foot of the chaise. Leaving the scarf over her head and face, she methodically bared her slender body. Her hands massaged her small breasts, twisting her pink nipples until they hardened. She then let her hands roam seductively down her body and between her thighs.

  Nick was going crazy watching her. Just when he was about to go to the woman, Tarla removed the head covering and shook her long hair free.

  With the sleekness of a tigress, she climbed over his body, trapping his thighs between her own. She pressed herself against him, holding him still while she rubbed her core along his oiled length. When she could no longer tolerate her own delaying tactics, she firmly impaled herself on him and rode her stud with wild abandon until she brought about her own climax.

  Nick's orgasm burst forth a heartbeat later, forever spoiling him for anything less exciting or satisfying in his future. Only when they had each enjoyed the aftershocks of their passion did Tarla lie beside him and let him return the pleasure she had granted him. Kissing and touching took the place of words between them.

  When morning came and they were still together, Nick willingly accepted Tarla's explanation that it was all meant to be.

  Chapter 9

  Victor calculated how many meals he had eaten. Assuming he was being fed on a regular basis, it was the only way he could mark the passing of time. Night and day did not exist for him as his sleep was constantly disrupted so that he could be interrogated, psychoanalyzed and tested physically and mentally in no particular order. Annoying? Fuck, yes. Abusive? Mielda! He could teach these clowns a few things about getting a man to talk.

  His years spent getting around the legal system had trained him to behave remorsefully in front of law enforcement authorities and to say whatever the shrinks wanted to hear to convince them he was a victim of a terrible childhood. He knew how to make humility eke from his pores.

  After the second session under the bright light, he had recognized its tranquilizing effects. During the treatments that followed, Victor had remained outwardly submissive while concentrating on multiplication tables to keep his brain alert.

  He was no strung-out doper, like Pete. He liked coke, but he didn't need it. During this past week he had noticed the last traces of craving had disappeared but he remembered the feeling, the incredible high he could reach with the white powder. He didn't want to face the future in a place where such highs did not exist.

  Again and again he had asked himself what went wrong with the hijacking and was now convinced that it was not his fault that it had failed.

  It was hers. The bitch with the big basura. Everything had been planned down to the last detail. Having the two young broads on board had simply thrown off his timing. He had taken care of the little brunette and he should have taken a piece out of the other one right away, gotten her out of his system. Then everything would have been fine. But he hadn't and once he got out of here, he would find her. Then she would make it up to him somehow.

  His guard, a seven-foot-tall side of beef, interrupted Victor's plans for revenge with a summons to the chief warden's office. Taking a moment to assume his humble persona, he fell into step behind the giant.

  A scrawny, gray-haired man of indeterminate age awaited Victor. His flat expression and piercing black eyes revealed a suspicious nature.

  "My name is Zenton and I am Chief Warden of this Rehabilitation Clinic. Your file contains encouraging reports from your counselors. You have convinced them of your desire to improve your behavior to a more socially acceptable standard. This willingness to adapt, along with your obvious remorse, weighed heavily in the decision reached by the Rehabilitation Board this morning."

  What Zenton did not say was that the prisoner's superior intelligence was the additional factor that had tipped the scales against further treatments. Due to the Noronians' deep respect for natural genius, every possible avenue for rehabilitation was to be pursued before resorting to reprogramming Victor.

  Zenton failed to rid himself of his nagging doubts about this case. It was not a matter of his being prejudiced against the Outerworlder, as the Board implied. A student of the criminal mind and penal systems of other civilizations, Zenton was convinced they were dealing with a sociopathic personality. The Board flatly rejected his recommendation to read the man's thoughts once more before releasing him. In Zenton's opinion, their objection was carrying the right to privacy much too far.

  "You watched the orientation the first day you were here, so you know what is expected of you."

  Victor bobbed his head. He remembered the show well enough. "I mean no disrespect, sir, but I found that video pretty hard to believe."

  "It is not my responsibility to convince you that what you heard is true," the warden answered. "Once you leave this clinic, your own eyes and ears will do that for you. My function today is to explain the terms of your release."

  At the suggestion of freedom, Victor's complacency slipped.

  "It has been decided to permit you to leave here. Your guard will escort you to Car-Tem Province and remain with you for a time. If you choose not to conduct yourself according to our laws, your case will be reconsidered. We have the power to force your rehabilitation. Therefore, it is to your advantage to take the initiative."

  Victor tried to look as meek as possible. "I understand, sir, and believe me, I am very grateful for the opportunity to prove myself. I would like to ask one question though."

  Zenton was not deceived by the man's act. "What is it?"

  "What about José? Will he be coming with me?"

  "No. He was judged incorrigible and could not be rehabilitated sufficiently as he was."

  "Well, what happens to him then? Does he stay locked up?"

  "Locked up? Certainly not. That would be unproductive. It is more efficient to alter the individual to fit into society rather than the other way around. Here is your manual. I suggest you study it during the trip to Car-Tem." He picked up a file and swiveled his chair around, presenting his back to Victor. The interview was over.

  Victor snorted then covered it with a sneeze. Accepting his unspoken dismissal, he casually sauntered into the hallway where the giant waited.

  As they turned down a corridor, Victor spotted a familiar figure walking ahead of him. "José!" He ran to catch up to his friend then grabbed his shoulder. Lifeless eyes in a stranger's face turned mechanically to his.

  "I am sorry. Were you calling me?" It was José's voice, but he was speaking perfect English in a halting monotone.

  Victor was stunned. He had no idea how it had been accomplished but this man was José. Yet he was not. Mielda! He had to get out of this place!

  The guard motioned for him to resume their exit from the building. Victor was so sh
aken by the encounter that he was outside for several seconds before realizing that he truly was a free man.

  As he boarded the peculiar wheel-less vehicle, Victor scanned the vast gray desert around them. A bright orange sun was surrounded by a white ring and looked bigger than it should. By the time they reached a glittering city and his caretaker demonstrated the marvels of his temporary apartment, Victor gave up all previous notions that he was still in the United States.

  * * *

  Edward read the file on his next appointment, another new arrival. His curiosity mounted as he absorbed the information regarding Victor's criminal background. To his knowledge, there had never been an attempt to integrate an Outerworlder with such primitive tendencies without reprogramming. He felt a tremor of anticipation.

  The counselor understood intimately how someone could be compelled to commit violence, even be excited by it. Since such aggression was unacceptable however, he had to conceal that difference between himself and those who had no such urge, the perfect people... like Chief Administrator Romulus.

  Heredity had cursed Edward with an imperfect exterior and average intelligence, and not even head-to-toe cosmetic corrections could make him tall, well-formed and brilliant. So Edward did nothing at all about his deficiencies. Had he been born centuries ago, before genetic experimentation was outlawed, he might have been pleased with himself... like Romulus.

  As young men, Edward and Romulus had attended the academy together and Edward remembered well his former classmate's accomplishments and personal charm. Romulus only had to smile and girls fell at his feet. He had achieved the highest scores without opening a book and he had excelled at any game he tried with absolutely no effort. Edward's resentment of his lot in life had always centered around Romulus, since Edward firmly believed that everything the man achieved was merely fate smiling down on one more beautiful person. Now people were talking about making Romulus governor, while Edward envisioned himself floundering indefinitely at his current level.

  Hoping to change his lot, Edward had seen the arrival of the Outerworlders as a golden opportunity to discredit Romulus and, at the same time, to prove that the Terrans were too uncivilized to be permitted to live freely among Noronians. If his impromptu plan using Karl had succeeded, he was certain his great-great-great-grandfather would have been impressed and would have given him some recognition. But he was not discouraged. Next time he would plan ahead. Next time he would be more careful.

  Victor's appearance broke into his mental grumblings. No wonder the criminal had been released unchanged, Edward thought. He was one of the privileged, an attractive specimen. Then Edward noticed the man's eyes and felt chilled by the beast he sensed was hiding behind the attractive façade.

  "Please sit down. My name is Edward. Your file contains insufficient background information for me to assist you in selecting a career. Perhaps we should begin with you telling me at what you excel, aside from breaking the law."

  Victor's lip curled up at the ugly, squat man. There was something strange about the way the counselor looked at him, as if he were examining a bug. Yet Victor's instincts told him he was dealing with a nobody, the easiest kind of victim to manipulate. "Would you mind answering a few questions for me first?" Victor inquired in a respectful tone.

  "Certainly not. I am here to help you in any way I can."

  Victor wondered just how far the little creep could be encouraged to help. "Where am I?"

  Edward looked at him curiously. "I understood that you had been briefed before you came to me."

  "I watched a video of some guy named Romulus telling the rest of the people from the ship about how we all got here. At the time, I figured it was a hoax." Edward's grimace at the mention of Romulus did not escape Victor's notice. "Then today I saw things that don't exist where I come from."

  "What you heard is true. Falsehoods are not tolerated here."

  Now Victor studied the counselor who sounded disgusted by the system. It was an impression worth testing.

  "All right, let's say I believe I'm in the center of the Earth, even though I definitely saw a sun out there. And everything here is wonderful and everyone is good and honest. How the hell do I get out of this damned Utopia and back to where people are more, uh, human?"

  Edward's pulse quickened. The criminal's attitude was delightful. He often felt the same way but saying it aloud was dangerous. Such ideas could result in being reprogrammed. "I strongly suggest you keep such thoughts to yourself. Most people would not consider your sentiments to be, shall we say, appropriate. You are here to stay. It is in your best interest to accept your situation as soon as possible and try to fit in."

  Victor noted that Edward's use of the phrase "most people" clearly did not include himself. "No way. I have to get back."

  "Only a few individuals have the power to authorize a departure. The man you referred to earlier, Chief Romulus, would be one of those. I assure you, nothing you could say or do would convince him to agree to your return to Outerworld."

  Victor recalled Karl's sloppy attempt to force Romulus's assistance at the end of the orientation. He certainly could do better than that. "Would you care to make a wager on that?"

  "Pardon me? I am sorry. I do not follow."

  "Naturally, I'm just speaking hypothetically."

  "Naturally." Edward was not sure what the man was leading up to. It sounded devious and he wanted to hear every syllable.

  "Let's just say the chief has a weakness, a soft spot perhaps. If someone learned what that was, then that someone might use it to force his cooperation." Victor had gone much further with this man than he had intended but the gleam in Edward's eyes told him he had found the inside help he would need. Lady Luck had apparently stayed on his shoulder all the way to this weird-ass world.

  "That would certainly prove to be an interesting experiment, hypothetically speaking that is." Such an incident could cost Romulus the governorship, Edward thought, a glimmer of hope beginning to rise inside him.

  "Of course, one would need help," Victor continued. "Inside information, so to speak, to pull such a thing off. I'm sure there would be some way to reward such a person."

  "It is possible that the success of the experiment might be reward enough. I am certain, though, that the accomplice would want to remain in the background. Let me ask you something now. By a weakness, could you mean a loved one?"

  "Exactly!" Victor responded excitedly. He had not expected a plan to formulate itself so soon. The simplicity of the scheme amazed even himself. "Did you have someone in particular in mind?"

  "No, not at the moment. I was only curious. It presents an interesting scenario." Edward squirmed in his seat with nervous energy. He only had his suspicions, which would have to be confirmed before passing any information along. But the beauty of such a plan boggled his mind and this criminal would work out so much better than Karl had since he would be acting entirely on his own.

  Victor knew he had his pigeon. He did not care what was in this for Edward. Maybe the man needed a little excitement. He really didn't give a fuck why the guy had it out for this Chief Romulus character, just so he could get back before his network of associates forgot about him. "If you do think of something, I'd be glad to discuss the experiment further. One other thing." Victor dropped the last pretense of submissiveness with the civil servant. "There was a woman on the ship, a friend, Aster Mackenzie. Would you know how I could find her?"

  Edward smirked. Could this be a simple coincidence or did this criminal already suspect that she had wiggled her way to the chief's attention? "Friend you say? I suppose that would be in order." He wrote her address on a piece of paper. "Now, as much as I have enjoyed our hypothetical discussion, I am required to find you immediate employment."

  "That shouldn't be too hard. What can you get for me at the Rehab Clinic?"

  "The Clinic?" Edward asked incredulously. "But are you not concerned about Zenton? He does not trust you."

  Victor was getting a char
ge out of playing teacher to his attentive, but completely naïve, pupil. "If I work there, the warden will have me watched constantly. If I am under his nose, I will quickly prove what a good citizen I intend to be and he will relax." The real reason for working at the clinic he would keep to himself. "Also, I would prefer to live on the premises, if that's possible. Can I do that?"

  Edward had never witnessed such negative use of intelligence. He would have liked to observe this Terran at closer range but right now he had to complete the man's processing. Edward quickly arranged a low-level job assignment and living quarters at the Clinic, commencing in three days.

  As Victor left his office, Edward mulled over the interview. There was no question who had controlled the appointment but he was not in the least disappointed.

  Chapter 10

  By Friday afternoon, Aster realized that the week had sped by in an orgy of studying. At work she had immersed herself in economics and finance and at night she had researched details of Innerworld's technology. She needed to believe that someday, somehow, she would return home and share her findings with her own people. She also knew that eventually she would have to reestablish communication with Romulus. There didn't seem to be any way to leave Innerworld without the approval of a high-ranking official and only in her dreams did she admit that was not the only reason she needed to see him again.

  Hearing the door open and close behind her, she turned to say good night to Keshu. The words she meant to say disintegrated at the sight of the imposing figure standing there.

  "Hello, Aster," Romulus said quietly.

  She opened her mouth but no words came. Instead, all the stored-up emotion of the last week threatened to spill over. She lowered her eyes.

  "I behaved abominably, but I swear it was a mistake. I need you to forgive me." He had spent the last four days berating himself for wandering the halls, hoping to bump into her. Work had piled up until his desk looked like he had gone on holiday. This afternoon he had finally given up his futile struggle to keep his distance from her.