Her Darkest Beauty_An Alien Invasion Series_The Second Generation

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Her Darkest Beauty_An Alien Invasion Series_The Second Generation Page 7

by Patricia Renard Scholes

“Both of us did,” she reminded him.

  “Yes, well you can get a job now that all the kids are in school, and the older ones already have jobs…”

  “They do.” She paused in thought. “I guess I should be proud of you, shouldn’t I? You’re making your own way.” She paused again. “It’s kind of an adventure, like breaking free from the past.”

  “And what a past!” He grinned, glad that she was taking the news so well.

  “Carlon, we’ll all want to meet her. We should invite everyone. I’ll make a dinner…”

  “Not Karra or Jem,” he told her.

  “But we need to be together for this one. The last thing you and Jem did together was go to Mama’s funeral. One last family event. Surely…”

  "Su…"

  "Just for one night, Carlon. Please? You have been so jealous of them since Gradi chose Jem, then Karra, over you. Admit it!"

  He shrugged indifference. "No longer important.” Almost the truth. He had always wanted to be chosen by the Discipline Master. It had settled hard to learn that he had no Talent that needed disciplining. “Jem hates Gradi for dismissing him in favor of Karra. And Karra seems to have forgotten all about the old priest."

  “I still see him sometimes,” Suzin said in her quiet way. “He wanted to know what happened that year we all disappeared. He said we should have gone to him with our troubles. But when I reminded him that his place was where the search for us might have started, he admitted it had, and understood why we avoided him. But he always thought Karra would return to him. She had been his favorite, you know.”

  Carlon had often wondered about that. Karra had just turned three when the priest had chosen her for her incredible ability to access the energies. Even as a tiny child she seemed too aware. Once when she thought no one watched, he saw her take a pebble and cause it to disappear, then reappear, as if she made it blink in and out of existence. When he asked Gradi about it, he agreed that it was an exercise taught to the extremely Talented. The pebble, he explained, never really disappeared, but his baby sister reached between energy fields and pulled the pebble out of hiding such as from her pocket, examined it, and then returned it, all faster than Normal eyes could follow. Carlon never understood the explanation, but it did explain how, while they hid from Nevian authority, she brought home groceries. The sleight-of-hand trick that the old Discipline Master had taught was being used to shoplift.

  She remained his pupil for years, until their father’s politics pushed them into hiding. Afterwards, Karra never mentioned Gradi again. Even when someone said his name aloud, she never seemed to hear. Now no one in the family spoke about Master Gradi or the presence or absence of Talent.

  He guessed it no longer mattered. Something during that year changed her from a child of promise into—Carlon stopped his next thought. Regardless of the words he just said aloud to Suzin, he didn’t want to call his little sister a monster, but something far from innocent seemed to direct her.

  "This'll be our last time together as a family," Su pleaded softly.

  Carlon listened to the entreaty, remembering how many times Su had calmed the children, even when no food existed, even when everything around them tumbled into chaos. He loved her sense of peace. And he didn’t really hate Karra, no matter what he said. For a long time he had agonized over her, wishing that Su’s natural embrace of affection would somehow nourish little Karra who seemed to have lost her ability to respond. She interacted with her younger siblings in a limited fashion, but only her daughter seemed to get her to return genuine warmth. It was as if something vital had been either stolen or shoved aside. Something dark and ugly now peered back at him every time he tried to speak to her.

  When had that happened? On the day of their father’s murder, or before? When had he learned to hate the darkness that seemed to shine from her deceptively innocent eyes?

  Regardless, it no longer mattered. Karra had chosen her life. Carlon planned to choose his own in spite of her.

  "How do I introduce them? 'Beloved, this is my brother Jem who runs the Homelander Front, who keeps the City in constant turmoil. But deep down he's really a nice guy. And this is my sister Karra who is wanted for murder right now, but as a family we tend to overlook each other's minor faults. They've both come to wish us well. Isn't that nice, dear?'"

  "Carlon, please."

  "Su, my fiancée is an Other."

  Chapter 8

  Near midnight, Karra crawled out of hiding and headed toward Peet’s Place. Not that she cared for its bouncing red lights and raucous noise, or even the assortment of misfits who spent their fantasies there, but at Peeti’s she could reach Jem, either directly or through one of his Friends. As usual, she chose the corner booth where she could watch both doors, even through the smoky, drusa-scented haze. If Security entered the bar before Jem did, Peeti would cause a distraction long enough for her to slip away.

  "Good t'see you again, Fancy." The top of his bald head reflected the flashing red of his establishment. His warm, cherubic grin hid a pirate's soul. "Can I get you something?"

  Even knowing his black heart, she grinned back. "No, Peeti. Not tonight."

  He leaned toward her, palms pressed on the table. "Y'oughta go," he advised. "Whole Security System wants you for the Big Number One. Under another name, of course.”

  "What is this Big Number One sass?" She wondered how many others knew about the “Big Number One,” especially under that other name.

  “Sass? You sayin’ no Council high-up got sliced?” He eyed her with suspicion.

  Karra stared at him in incomprehension. “Council member? Killed? What are you saying, Peeti?” How much did he know?

  “Security’s got you, under the other name, as the One. Sez you slit him good. Now me, I know how you use a knife, and I know you was at that school. Connect the dots.”

  “Who, Peeti? Give me a name. Who are you talking about?”

  “Don’t rightly know his name., but he was the Council high-up at that school you went to.”

  Karra shook her head. Now was as good as any to try her line. “Yeah, I was at that school. I wrote something the Administrator of Ed didn’t like. He called me into his office and told me I wasn’t what they were looking for in a student, and told me to leave, so I did. Someone killed him?”

  “Someone like you.”

  “Not me, Peeti. I had no reason to kill him.”

  “That’s what you’re telling me. That’s not the word.”

  “Are you saying so? Aloud?”

  He shook his head and crossed his arms over a massive chest. "Not yet.”

  “Yet? Would you turn me in, Peeti?”

  He shrugged. “Enough money is ridin' on you to make even the shyest come out an' take notice."

  Peet Scarsetto was not known for shyness. She had lost a safe refuge.

  "Y'here to hole up, erren't ya. Comin' to ol' Peeti when your life gets tough. Well, this time it'll cost ya. Solid gold trouble, solid gold solution." He peered from beneath bushy, black brows.

  "What's your solution?"

  He had tried, but never succeeded, in becoming her permanent sponsor. There were times when she agreed to work for him, as long as the agreement benefited both of them.

  "One of the back rooms erren't got a regular door, if y'know what I mean. Looks more like the rest of the wall when it's shut, see.”

  Does every freety toad in the Area own hidden closets?

  “'Course, me takin' a chance like this, th'cut would be ninety-ten." His gold tooth winked at her.

  "Yeah, and outa the ten I'd have to pay you stay and way, which would leave me zero. Right?"

  He shrugged. "You gotta live somewhere. Erren't Peeti always taken good care of you?" He jerked his thumb toward the back.

  But Karra shook her head. Not only did she run the risk of being held until a higher bidder, such as Sector Five Security, came along, the thought of working in his hidden closet of a storeroom brought chills.

  He sighed. When she
had been a skinny, hungry fourteen-year-old, Peeti had discovered her inner core of anger that enjoyed inflicting pain. With very little training, he taught her the special tricks that brought in the most money. He probably wished she could be manipulated as easily as his other girls.

  "Thanks, Peeti," she said. "But I'm just waiting tonight."

  He threw up his hands. "For him, right? Why are you so stuck on him? He never buys you anything special, or treats you better than any other girl. Why, I've seen him buy time with Patta Cakes often enough to make most girls jealous, yet y'wouldn't wait for any Drake in the world 'cept him. Your only lover. I taught you better'n that, didn't I?"

  "Yeah. 'Why settle for one when you can have 'em all?' You taught me real well, but…" She lifted her hands helplessly. She saw no need to tell him, ever, that Jem, known to Peeti as the Long Jon, was not really her lolliboy.

  With a sad shake of his head, he returned to his place behind the bar, serving drinks, sandwiches and girls, throwing her flitting glances as if he hoped she would change her mind.

  "I heard him call you Fancy," a man said as he seated himself, uninvited, beside her. "Are you?" His oversized hood shadowed most of his face, all except a hawk's beak, thin lips and a pointed chin.

  "Very," she said, trying to see his eyes under the hood. "When I work. I'm off tonight." From the way the back of his cape stretched over his arms and shoulders, he might consider forcing the issue.

  "I've never seen you here before," he said through perfect teeth.

  "Oh? Well, maybe that's because I choose my Drakes. By appointment only. See Peeti. I don't think you have my price." Karra's left hand brushed back the long curtain of her hair, a distraction, while her right slipped to her thigh.

  "How expensive can an Outer Area bar girl be?" He laughed.

  Karra's guard rose instantly. His reference to the Outer Area identified him as Inner City.

  "Expensive enough, buddy."

  Peeti's sudden presence startled the man. He jerked his bony jaw toward the round belly of the tavern keeper.

  "Look at th'hand in her lap," Peeti advised. "This one draws blood when she's not working." He grinned. "And sometimes when she is. Why do you think I call her Fancy?"

  Even in the scintillating lights, Karra saw his face pale. His chin jerked between the girl, and her keeper, in alarm as he rose to his feet.

  "I thought Fancy meant…" He left before he finished.

  But Peeti frowned a warning at her, stopping her smile. He gestured toward his hidden storage room, then shrugged when she shook her head.

  When another man wandered toward her corner booth, he motioned for one of his girls to distract him. She guessed he must have meant it when he said he would only accept her if she worked from his back room. She rose to leave.

  Jem entered.

  Karra relaxed against the booth, watching him move toward her with the grace of a predator.

  He placed his long, lean body opposite hers, letting his piercing brown eyes study her for several long moments before choosing to speak.

  "It's true, then," he said.

  "Well, there’s truth and there’s…"

  "Why?"

  Karra tried to explain the incident as well as she could, leaving out only the strange hallucinations, but she floundered. The stench of the murder filled her nostrils. The scene flashed as unrelenting as Peeti's lights. She remembered it as too red, like a bath of human blood being tied with twists of dark Nevian ochre, as if she had witnessed the slaughter of a thousand Homelanders, not the murder of one over-zealous Nevian.

  "But to kill a public figure while wearing your own name! None of it the way I taught you.”

  "He had the administrator of Barre's coming to transfer me as soon as she arrived. Do you think he would have let me walk away?"

  "You know how to stall, lie. There must have been some other way to handle it."

  "Let’s see.” She pretended to think it over. “I suppose I could have offered him Dad's books."

  "Better to offer him Dad’s old stuff. You don't kill a public official just because he's in your way." Jem stared at her in visible disapproval. "What do you plan to do now?"

  I want to disappear with Chalatta. I want to find us a safe place away from all of the killing, the lies and the political games. There was one place she could go…a place that she had called home a long time ago… Instead, she shook her head.

  "You know what I'm about to say."

  So much for Jem’s promise that Barnis Ves was to be her last job. "I’m not joining the Front."

  “We can get you a new ID. Computerized. We can even set you up in an Inner City job, start you in a whole new career."

  "With Chalatta? Or will I have to leave her behind?"

  "Maybe they don’t abduct children anymore, but they'll trace you through Chalatta," he said. "This way you'll both be safe."

  "You gray-lipped cretin! I could have had all that, and Chalatta too. One word from me, and Dad could have died twice, once in prison, and later as his work burned in Nevian incinerators. Chalatta and I could have reaped all the Inner City benefits we could ever use. If I can't have my daughter, I don't want to work for you or anyone else." But it was more than that. She wanted completely out of her way of life. She was too good. Someday Chalatta would see her as cold and hard and ugly, the way Carlon did, and she never wanted her little girl to see her like that.

  He regarded her in calm dispassion. Her words insisted she would not work without Chalatta, but Karra knew her body language gave her away. Make it possible, her body was telling him. Make something possible.

  Jem's expression softened. "Face it. That murder has changed your life forever. Don't tell me they won't use Chalatta to find you. They won't rest until they have you locked in."

  “I have contacts.” Her throat tightened, making it difficult to swallow. “We’ll disappear.” She stood, ready to run.

  "Sit down," he ordered.

  Reluctantly, she returned to the booth and crouched inside. She would find a way to keep Chalatta; she would make him help her.

  But suddenly Jem let out a weary sigh. "This is all premature anyway," he said. "It still needs to be put to the vote. The Board…"

  "Wait a minute." She sat straight up. "What's this Board sass?"

  He grinned. "You thought I ran the whole show. Big Jem taking over after Dad died, right? Isn’t public opinion wonderful? Lie often enough and the public believes anything. Someday I may run the Front, but not yet. Right now everything goes through a board patterned after the Nevian Council system. Can you believe we use something Nevian?"

  "Then you can't do anything anyway. I don't know why I waited for you." She snorted in disgust.

  "The Board meets in two handspans, which gives you that long to think about my offer. Just don't get caught doing anything illegal, not even stealing a red-dit bite of candy. If the Security finds you, now or later, you'll get no help from us unless you're in. Got it?"

  Karra refused to answer. But the desire to frost him with icy words nearly won. I'll get out of this somehow, she promised herself and Chalatta mentally instead. Someday I'll have so much money set aside, we'll be able to buy our own security, away from the Homelander Front, beyond Sector Five, away from Nevians.

  If there were such places.

  "Use your head. Honestly now, what will you do without us? Over the years we've paid you a small fortune doing little things for us."

  Little things, a bit of sleight of hand, stolen plans, extortion, con games, blackmail, and murder. And now you think I’ll work for free? "No, Long Jon, baby," she said quietly. "I'll work for you, just like before, but not be a part of you."

  "What imaginary world do you live in? Your credibility is shot. If we agree to buy you out of this, you'll owe us, and you know our price, if the Board even agrees to offer you a place. Two handspans, Fancy."

  She swallowed in spite of the thickening in her throat. This was just as much of a trap as the Chief Administra
tor's offer, except Jem was no enemy. She would have preferred, though, to remain on the outside, working for profit, autonomous. Once in, one did not quit the Front. But the advantages were obvious. They would provide her a cover, identification, palm prints matching another name and background. They would ignore her one indiscretion.

  But they would never erase it. It was their hold over her.

  Chalatta would never understand.

  Then he threw a last tidbit of information.

  "Carlon's engaged. Su talked him into inviting his lolligirl home to meet family, nineteen-thirty, in two handspans." A broad grin filled Jem's face. "The old brand's finally gonna do it. Let's be there for the party. I can tell you what the Board says then." He winked.

  Before Jem left the bar, he stopped to talk to Peeti. Between them there were many words and much arm waving, but Karra could hear nothing they said over the din of the crowd. The band played a wild beat that jarred nerves. A fight broke out and was settled by one of Peet's bouncers smashing both their heads together just before he tossed them out the door. A slower number, just as loud as the ones preceding it, encouraged the dancers clutching each other to move together and let their caresses linger awhile.

  Karra grew bored. Her mind returned to her survival. Unless she agreed to work for Peeti from his back room, she needed to find another way to stay alive for the remaining nine days—with Security patrolling every corner. By now, they surely owned a better description of her. Putting everything she earned from Barnis-darling into her investment account had not been the smartest move this time. Her financial advisor had been pleased, of course. He wanted to go over her investments with her, not in the least concerned that she was already late for school. And now, without a palm print or a new ID, she could not even speak to him. She cursed silently.

  "Second thoughts?"

  Peeti's sudden appearance startled her.

  "About what?"

  "Th'Long Jon. Y'don't seem so happy just now."

  “Oh, well.”

  "I guess that's devotion. No criticism for leaving you to the likes of me. He says I use you."

 

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