gaian consortium 06 - zhore deception

by Pope, Christine

  “Ouch!” he exclaimed, then pushed his chair away from hers. “Subtle, Knox. Real subtle.”

  “Sorry,” she said, although she really didn’t mean it. Anyway, trying to get into Blake’s mind that way hadn’t worked at all. It had felt like swinging a mallet into shatterproof glass. Her attack had bounced back, shaking her as well.

  “Obviously, that approach isn’t going to work.” He shifted, moving so he was perched more or less on the edge of his seat. “You try pulling that crap on a Zhore, and they’re going to feel it and be on you so fast, you won’t even realize what’s happening until you’re locked up in jail. Or whatever they use for jail, I guess,” he added, with a scratch on the side of his nose. “Anyway, the last thing you want is to do something that’s going to attract everyone’s attention. So try again.”

  Trinity frowned, doing the exact opposite of Blake and instead settling against the back of her chair. She could tell she wouldn’t be able to brute-force this, so she had to figure out something else. The whole trick was to pick up his thoughts in a way that he wouldn’t notice. She needed to be as invisible as the air he breathed.

  Like air….

  All right, maybe not air exactly, but like the finest of mists, something so delicate and unsubstantial that she could drift through the tiny chinks and cracks in his mental armor, openings so small he probably didn’t even know they were there. For all she knew, she had the same sort of defects in her own defenses, but Blake hadn’t yet figured out how to exploit them. Hopefully, he never would.

  Her intention drifted on the air, settling down on the surface of his mind and seeping through, in the same way the spray from the misters in a greenhouse would gently penetrate the earth in which the plants were growing. He was sitting very still, but she didn’t see him startle or make any kind of movement at all. There was even a lopsided smile on his mouth, as if he was laughing internally at her ineptitude.

  Yes, that was it exactly. He didn’t think she would ever be able to master these skills enough to successfully conceal herself in Zhore society, and he was wishing he’d been tapped for this project instead, even if that meant looking as creepy as she did now. And below that was impatience, because he didn’t want this all to drag out too long, since he’d just gotten an upgrade on his VR equipment, and the new model he’d programmed as his companion was even hotter than the last, and….

  “And you think I’m a loser,” she remarked, pulling herself out of his thoughts and thinking she’d like a shower right about then. “At least I sleep with real people.”

  Blake’s eyes widened in shock, and then he scowled. “Yeah, see where that got you. Computer-generated girlfriends are a lot more trustworthy.”

  Well, Trinity couldn’t really argue with that. And even as she lifted her shoulders to give a fatalistic shrug, Blake seemed to pause, realizing at last the actual implications of her comment.

  “You got in.”

  She nodded.

  “All the way in. And…I didn’t feel it.” He jabbed at his glasses with his index finger, pushing them farther up his nose. “How’d you do it?”

  “Trade secret.”

  His frown deepened. “You shouldn’t withhold that kind of information. It may be a technique I could use as well.”

  “I doubt it,” she replied. Maybe he was right; maybe she was breaking some unspoken rule by not telling him everything. But unless Gabriel came in and forced her to divulge how she’d managed that infiltration of Blake’s thoughts, she wasn’t going to say anything. The last thing she wanted was to give him a weapon he might use against her.

  “Trinity — ”

  The door opened then, and Gabriel stepped in. Trinity stiffened at once, thinking for sure he was going to compel her to explain how she’d gotten past Blake’s defenses so easily. But he surprised her by saying,

  “Well done, Trinity.” His gaze shifted over to Blake. “You can’t really expect her to give up all her secrets, can you? But then, I suppose you don’t have a lot of experience with women who aren’t of the virtual kind.”

  Blake bristled. “Refusing to share information with fellow team members isn’t in anyone’s best interests.”

  “Perhaps.” Gabriel gave a negligent wave of his hand. “Leave it for now. I’d like to take Trinity to show her something.”

  She wasn’t sure if she liked the sound of that, but she knew she had no real choice. Rising from her chair, she gave Blake a sticky-sweet smile, then went over to meet Gabriel by the doorway. He watched her closely as she walked toward him, and a shiver went through her. Something about that intent stare made her want to turn and run in the opposite direction.

  Stop trying to scare yourself, she thought. He’s probably just looking you over to make sure there isn’t anything about your walk that’s too un-Zhore-like.

  Then again, how would he even know the way a Zhore female might walk? No, there must be recordings of some kind. The Zhore didn’t come to Gaia, but there were other worlds and space stations they did visit occasionally, and it must not be that difficult to get surveillance footage from the cameras in those locations so it could be thoroughly analyzed.

  She stopped a foot or so away from Gabriel. He looked past her to Blake. “Write up your findings from this session and send them along to me. I’ll expect them within the next two hours.”

  “Sure, boss.” There was such a sneer in Blake’s voice that she expected Gabriel would call him on it, but he didn’t. Instead, he pointed down the corridor toward their left, saying,

  “This way, Trinity.”

  There was nothing for it but to head in the direction he’d indicated. The hallways were empty, but that didn’t surprise her. They were always empty whenever she ventured out of her rooms. After two days in recovery, the doctor, whose name Trinity never learned, said she was healed enough to go back to her suite, and so that was where she’d spent the majority of her time, resting, reading, watching whatever vids Gabriel had determined were safe for her.

  And now, going wherever he directed her. Was this it? Had he determined she was ready? She prayed that wasn’t the case; although each morning she woke up feeling a bit better, and every day became a bit more accustomed to seeing that alien face in the mirror, she knew she was not prepared for the ordeal of being surrounded by Zhore on all sides, with no friends, no support system, nothing but her own desperation and Gabriel’s threats to keep her on course.

  The corridor ended in a wide door. Gabriel went to the control pad in the wall next to it and lowered his head so the biometric scanner could read his retinal patterns. Then the door slid open, and Trinity gasped.

  She’d assumed they were still somewhere in the large building she’d first been brought to, concealed in plain sight within one of Gaia’s many metropolises, although she hadn’t recognized the actual location at the time. But they stood now in a lounge area that boasted an entire wall of windows, and beyond those windows was no cityscape, nor anything of Gaia at all. Instead, the glory of an unknown nebula blazed out of the darkness, shimmering in shades of purple and red, pearlescent white and palest gold.

  “Where — ” she began, then stopped. Maybe she really didn’t want to know the answer to that question.

  It was too late, though. Gabriel had heard that one syllable, and came up beside her, reaching back with one hand to shut the door behind them.

  “One of our bases,” he said. To her relief, he kept moving, apparently focused on a long bar of burnished steel to one side of the chamber. After stepping behind the bar, he went on, “We thought it best to perform your…procedure…far away from anyplace where the procedure might be discovered. Besides, we are now located a little more than halfway to Zhoraan, which means a shorter trip when it comes time to send you there.”

  A shorter trip. Trinity exhaled, thanking whoever or whatever might be looking over hapless creatures such as she for that reprieve, however brief it might be. At least she was not about to be immediately bundled onto a shuttle an
d sent off into the unknown.

  “What would you like?” he inquired, rummaging through one of the cupboards under the bar and producing two glasses.

  He’d brought her here for a drink? If it had been someone else, she might have said he merely wanted to have an innocuous celebration of her astonishing recovery, but she doubted that Gabriel Brant ever did anything that could be labeled “innocuous.”

  Warily, she replied, “Are you sure I should be drinking so soon after…well, after?”

  Smiling, he brought out a smooth ovoid bottle of some purple liquid and poured a few inches into one of the glasses. “You’re doing remarkably well, Trinity. The doctors have given you a clean bill of health. I doubt one drink will do anything to affect your progress.”

  She still didn’t think she agreed with that observation, but she also knew that arguing with him wasn’t a very good idea. “I’m not much of a drinker.” How could she be, when she had to keep such a tight grip on her mind’s defenses at all times? True, she’d never met anyone like herself, up until now, but she’d always lived with the fear that she might run across someone with similar talents and that they’d be able to see into her thoughts. It was better to stay in control, just in case. Since Gabriel was still staring at her expectantly, she added, “What’s that you just poured?”

  “‘That’ is Eridani volshir. Would you like some?”

  “It’s a pretty color.”

  He grinned and shook his head at her response, then poured just a hair less into her glass than he had into his own. When he was done, he lifted it toward her.

  It was an invitation she wished she could refuse. However, her feet somehow carried her across the room and over to the bar. At least its not inconsiderable steel bulk was between her and Gabriel Brant as she reached to take the glass from him.

  Their fingers never touched, and relief rushed through her. That was something. If he’d wanted to, he could have made sure she had to touch him to retrieve the glass of volshir. Whatever that was.

  Maybe he really didn’t want to touch her. After all, her skin was no longer human, nor the rest of her. Well, the exterior. Inside, she was just as human as she’d ever been. She wouldn’t let them change that about her. She had to cling to that, so she wouldn’t forget who she really was.

  “To exploration,” Gabriel said, and again one of those nervous little shivers flickered its way down her spine.

  But she had no choice. “To exploration,” she echoed, then lifted the glass to her lips and took an experimental little sip.

  Sweet, like the fruit ices her mother used to buy her on hot summer days. The similarity ended there, however, because as the liquor trailed down her throat, it seemed to turn to fire, burning its way down, lighting a flame inside her.

  Coughing, Trinity set down the glass. The whole time, Gabriel was watching her, an amused tilt to his eyebrows.

  “I suppose I should have warned you about that,” he said casually, then reached under the bar and brought out a pouch of water. It was cold, and Trinity realized there must be a refrigeration unit tucked under there somewhere.

  “You think?” she gasped, then seized the pouch and flicked the tab to open it. After a few swallows of cool water, she thought she might be able to feel sensation in her mouth again. “That tastes like something a Stacian might brew up, not an Eridani.”

  “Actually, it’s distilled, not brewed, but I take your point.” Gabriel lifted his own glass and took a measured swallow. He must have had a good deal of practice drinking the stuff, because he didn’t even flinch. “Try again.”

  That was perhaps the last thing she wanted to do, but she knew better than to refuse. She wrapped her fingers around her glass and brought it to her lips, then allowed herself a very small sip.

  This one burned, too, but not as badly as the last one. Maybe she’d damaged some nerve endings with that first swallow. And now that it didn’t hurt as much, she could feel the heat of the drink moving through her body, seeming to warm her right down to her toes.

  “Better?”

  She nodded, then sipped again. All right. She could do this.

  He moved out from behind the bar. “Come with me to the window.”

  Again, his words were more of a command than a request. Glass in one hand, she followed him across the room, which she now realized truly was a lounge, with low divans and tables, all designed for viewing the amazing sight of that nebula hanging just outside. All right, not actually just outside. It had to be millions of miles away. Still….

  They paused there, an inch of duraglass the only thing separating them from the vacuum. Gabriel stood watching those glowing, shifting colors for a moment, then turned back toward her and plucked the glass from her hand before setting it down on the low table directly behind them.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “It’s beautiful,” she replied. Of course she’d seen holos of celestial phenomena like this before, but knowing it was real, hanging in space, so close it seemed as if you could touch it…well, that was something entirely different.

  “Yes, it is,” Gabriel said. He wasn’t looking at the nebula, however. He was staring down at her.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes. That would be disastrous.

  “That skin we gave you. It has all those same colors flickering in it. Purple and gold and bottle green and red, shimmering over black.” He moved closer, then ran a finger along the skin of her forearm.

  Don’t flinch. Don’t shiver.

  Don’t react.

  He didn’t seem upset by her lack of response. No, he only moved closer, so close that his arm was brushing against hers.

  Still she didn’t move. It took everything she had to stand there and not pull away from him. But if this was a test, some form of psychological torture, then she was going to prove that she could handle anything he flung at her.

  Well, almost anything.

  With one hand, he reached up and touched her hair, which had one lock lying loose on her left shoulder, the rest falling down her back. Then he bent and pressed his mouth against hers.

  She tasted an echo of the volshir on his lips, the sweetness and the heat of it. At the same time, she tried to push away. This — whatever “this” was — had gone much too far.

  His hands grasped her arms, though, holding her in place as he continued to kiss her. Almost as if she was observing the whole scene from outside herself, she noted coolly that his technique was flawless. Some parts of her body were responding, heat flushing through her, even as her mind was screaming that she had to get away.

  And then he did let go, and she staggered back a few paces, gasping and wiping at her mouth.

  “Excellent,” he said, before she had a chance to demand what the hell he thought he was doing. “We were concerned that perhaps the application of the alien epidermis would have damped or even blocked your sexual response. But it seems that everything is working as it should.”

  “That — that was a test?” she finally spat out.

  “Of course,” he replied, voice calm. “You couldn’t think that I would actually want you as you are now?”

  She stared at him, shocked to speechlessness. Nothing she could say seemed sufficient to the occasion, so she only remained as she was, glaring at him as he came closer to her once again, then bent toward her ear and murmured,

  “But after this is all over…once we’ve returned you to your natural appearance…then I think I will want you very much.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Whether out of stubbornness or merely a desire to see how long the strained relations between them might continue with no resolution, Leizha did not go on leave, or request a transfer, or do any of the things Zhandar hoped she might. They continued to work side by side, acting as if nothing had happened, as if nothing could happen.

  And if he had his choice, nothing would.

  Several times a week, Jalzhin would send communiques to Zhandar’s private account, asking if he had yet made a
decision, or passing along a new batch of candidates for him to consider. Not that there was anything much to see. Their interests and ages and educational backgrounds might vary slightly, but otherwise those messages contained only another parade of dark hooded shapes.

  Perhaps that was Jalzhin’s subtle way of pointing out it truly didn’t matter all that much which woman Zhandar ended up choosing. The drug the Ministry’s scientists had concocted would create chemistry where there was none, and once a child was conceived and brought to term, then…what? Jalzhin had never explained that part of the plan very clearly. Would the child be raised by its mother? By Zhandar? By the two of them together, even though they had no true bond to seal them as a couple?

  He had a feeling Jalzhin and his superiors didn’t much care, as long as the child was healthy and lived to ensure that there truly would be a new generation to carry on their way of life. But would that way of life really continue, when such a child would have been conceived in a way so completely antithetical to the tradition the Zhore had followed for millennia?

  It was the end of the day…yet another in a long series of very long days. He knew he would have to make some sort of decision soon. And then everything would change.

  Leizha entered his office, tablet in hand. He always left his door open, so that she and the others who worked in their department could come and go as necessary. Even though it was late, he assumed she had come in to get his approval on the modifications to the rooftop garden on the Tranzhir Tower in the Ranizhar District.

  But she waved her hand over the controls, and the door closed quietly behind her.

  Even though he knew she couldn’t see them, Zhandar’s eyebrows lifted. “What is it, Leizha?” He might have instigated their last conversation on the topic, but he found himself hoping they would not be going over the same ground again this evening. All he wanted to do was go home. He was tired.

  His assistant stood there for a long moment. Then she set the tablet down on his desk and backed away. A long pause, and her hands were reaching up to the clasp of burnished metal at her throat.