“Of course they do,” he said smoothly. “That is, regular upstanding, law-abiding citizens of the Consortium. But you, Ms. Knox, aren’t either of those things, are you? It seems there’s an outstanding warrant for your arrest. Magda, could you show Ms. Knox?”
In response to his request, the mousy-looking woman got up from the sofa and came over to the conference table. She held up her tablet so that everyone could see what currently occupied the screen — the booking image of Trinity, with the word “wanted” flashing in Galactic Standard underneath.
Son of a bitch….
In the seat to her left, Nalzhir didn’t so much as twitch. “Well, that is unfortunate, but I do believe the Consortium’s laws guarantee that a person is innocent until proven guilty, do they not?”
“Yes,” Brant replied without blinking.
“So has Ms. Knox been convicted of any crimes?”
“No, but neither is a person accused of anything greater than a misdemeanor allowed to leave the Gaian system without permission. Her identification would have been annotated to show that, if she had in fact requested and received that permission.” He turned toward her, eyes glinting. “Perhaps you could show us your identification, Ms. Knox, so we can get all this cleared up.”
God damn him. He was enjoying this far too much, and she knew she didn’t dare react either outwardly or inwardly, since Blake Chu had her fixed with his own impassive stare from behind those ridiculous glasses of his. The second she’d seen him, she’d clamped down her barriers as tightly as she could, but if they kept pushing her….
“I don’t have any identification,” she said. “It was…misplaced.”
“Indeed? How unfortunate. You should have contacted the embassy here on the base as soon as you realized it was missing. As to that, I must confess that I am a little curious as to what you were doing on Zhoraan at all, a world that allows no one who is not a Zhore to set foot on its surface.”
Of course he knew exactly what Trinity was doing there. And who she was doing it with. This was all part of the charade, but damned if she could figure out what the hell his endgame was. Maybe he was just trying to see if he could provoke her or Nalzhir into the sort of outburst that would reveal more information than either of them wanted to let slip.
“She was occupied with personal business,” Nalzhir said, his tone mild. “As for the rest, no one here knew anything of it. Was that why you requested her presence at this meeting, Mr. Brant? So you could take her into custody? I’m afraid I cannot agree to that.”
“And why not? She is not a citizen of your world. Not to be rude, but you have very little say as to where she goes or what she does.”
The Zhore did shift in his seat them. Just a fraction, but enough that Trinity knew he was being backed into a corner. If the Zhore were capable of lying, then he could have said any one of a number of things. She doubted he would mention the child unless there were no other options left to them, because doing so would reveal that they’d known all along what Gabriel had been up to. Right now they were all playing the innocent, trying to see who would make the first misstep.
Fine, then. Since Nalzhir couldn’t lie, she’d step in and do the deed. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been lying to herself and almost everyone around her ever since she was a young girl.
She crossed her arms and looked Gabriel directly in the face. “I requested diplomatic immunity.”
That did take him aback; at least, a muscle twitched in his cheek, although he didn’t show much more reaction than that. “I beg your pardon? On what grounds?”
“The charges against me were trumped up. The real criminal made me his scapegoat. So I thought I should come someplace where the Consortium couldn’t possibly track me down.”
A glint entered his eyes, and a corner of his mouth lifted so briefly that Trinity wasn’t sure she wasn’t imagining things. But no…he had tight controls, but every once in a while he let something leak out. Whether that was on purpose or not didn’t really matter. Right now, that little flash told her something.
He was actually amused by her playacting. He wasn’t going to call her on it. No, he seemed as if he would be content to watch her keep spinning yarns, just to see what happened. Which meant he was definitely plotting something. He wouldn’t let things get this out of hand if he didn’t have some sort of endgame in mind.
Leaning forward slightly, he said, “Well, that certainly was very…resourceful of you, Ms. Knox. Most of the time when criminals flee Gaia, they go someplace where they can blend into the population, like Iradia. Not much chance of your blending into the population on Zhoraan, is there?”
“I don’t know,” she retorted. “These robes can hide a lot.”
Nalzhir’s hood had been swiveling back and forth between the two of them, as if he was bemused by the entire conversation and didn’t quite know how to interject himself into it. “Mr. Brant,” he said, “because of Ms. Knox’s particular gifts, we decided we could bend policy a bit.”
“Gifts?” Gabriel repeated. “What gifts?”
“It’s all in my file,” Trinity said distinctly. “Unless that part has been redacted. It’s possible you don’t have the clearance to read it.”
Across the table from her, Blake grinned briefly, then turned sober again as soon as he realized his superior was beginning to frown.
Both her remark and Blake’s reaction to it had clearly annoyed Gabriel; the amused glint disappeared from his eyes, and his mouth pursed slightly. “I assure you, Ms. Knox, I have sufficient clearances to read your entire file. If you’re referring to those so-called psychic talents of yours, I’m afraid I don’t believe that particular fairytale. You’re a gifted…well, let’s just call it a ‘storyteller’ and leave it at that.”
“I don’t think that is necessary — ” Nalzhir began.
But Gabriel rolled right over his words, saying, “I believe I’ve heard enough. While you might think you’re doing the compassionate thing, Nalzhir, the truth of the matter is that Ms. Knox here is a fugitive and a known criminal. She’s not the sort of person you want on Zhoraan, even if you were to, shall we say, open yourselves to more interaction with aliens.”
The leer in his voice was more than apparent to Trinity, and she guessed it was to Nalzhir as well, because he sat up a little straighter. A wave of irritation seemed to emanate from him, then subsided.
Don’t feel too bad, Nalzhir, Trinity thought. Gabriel has that effect on everyone.
“No,” he went on, “I really think it best that you allow Ms. Knox to come with us. In the future, you might want to be a bit more selective about the sorts of people you allow down on your planet.”
Nalzhir planted his hands on the tabletop and rose to his full height, which was an inch or so taller than Gabriel. “I fear we are at an impasse, then. For we cannot give her up, not when she has been offered sanctuary among us.”
That wasn’t even a lie. Because the Zhore had offered to shelter her from her Consortium handlers, even if she hadn’t precisely requested asylum.
“You know,” Gabriel replied, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” His gaze flicked over toward Magda, the assistant. She still stood a pace or two behind Trinity, tablet clutched in her hands. Incongruously, Trinity noticed that the woman was wearing nail lacquer in a very unflattering shade of dark gray.
“Magda, I think it’s time,” he said, and she nodded, then tapped something on her screen.
It seemed as if the air circulator switched into overdrive, hissing through the vents. Gabriel calmly reached into his pocket and pulled out a clear plastic mask, fitting it over his nose and mouth. Blake did the same, while Magda pulled a mask from her own pocket and slapped it on.
That all happened within the space of a second. Trinity realized exactly what was going on, and began to push herself away from the table. But then it was as if her muscles had rebelled and refused to do anything her brain was telling them to do. Her knees buckled. Next to her, Nalzhir slum
ped in his seat.
And then she was falling, hitting the carpeted floor as darkness began to swirl around her. The last thing she remembered was Gabriel staring down at her, a smile of triumph on his lips, as her world went black.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Zhandar was feeling — well, not relieved, precisely, but somewhat heartened that he had passed an entire afternoon working with Leizha, and nothing untoward had happened. She had just bade him good evening and gone out when his desk comm buzzed.
He glanced at the code, but it wasn’t one he recognized. No matter. He often received calls from people in other departments, or managers of buildings who wanted to retain his services. In the cities, all the buildings were owned by the government and leased out, since most people did not wish to spend their entire lives trapped in places of stone and steel, despite all the work that was done to make them as green and growing as possible. But those buildings must still be maintained and managed, and it was the people tasked with that responsibility who generally reached out to him.
“Zhandar,” he said.
The female voice that came over the comm was unfamiliar to him. “Zhandar, my name is Rinzha. You have never met me, but I was assigned to watch over Ms. Knox.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked, tone sharpening despite himself. Why was it that the very thought of Trinity could send his pulse racing, even when it arose from something as innocuous as a stranger uttering her name?
A pause. “Unfortunately, yes. I am with Agent Nalzhir at the Irizhan Medical Center. Could you please come over at your earliest convenience?”
That was the same medical center where Trinity had undergone the procedure to turn her back to her human self. “What has happened to Nalzhir? Is Trinity with him?”
“Zhandar, it would be best if you came here immediately. These are matters I don’t care to discuss over the comm. He is in room 480.”
“I’m coming over now.” Zhandar ended the call, his hand shaking slightly. What in the world was going on? It must be something terrible, if Nalzhir was being treated at the medical center. And Trinity? What could have happened to her?
Zhandar didn’t even bother to shut down his computer, but instead settled for closing the door to his office as he hurried out. Luckily, everyone else had gone home, so no one could see his haste or sense the worry that must be radiating from him.
The medical center was on the other side of town. Because he knew he would have broken all manner of laws against excessive speed if he drove, he left the car on auto and allowed it to guide him through the busy streets while he tried very hard not to stare at the chronometer on the dashboard and think of the minutes ticking past.
Eventually he did get there, practically bounding out of the car as soon as it had parked itself. He realized that running through the corridors of the medical center was probably not a very good idea, and so he forced himself to slow down, to walk at a brisk pace that would get him where he needed to go without attracting too much attention.
Room 480 was on the right-hand side at the end of the hallway. The door was closed, and Zhandar hesitated for a moment, then knocked.
“Come in.” Rinzha’s voice.
He pressed a gloved finger against the touch pad next to the door. It opened silently, and he took a step inward before he froze.
A hooded figure he guessed was Rinzha stood on the opposite side of the hospital bed, but that wasn’t what had stopped him. No, it was realizing that the man lying in the bed did not have his hood pulled up, exposing him to anyone who might enter.
“A thousand apologies,” Zhandar said at once, averting his eyes and preparing to exit the room at once.
“No,” returned the man on the bed. Nalzhir, although of course Zhandar had never seen his face before. “You may look on me in my shame. It is nothing more than I deserve.”
Something was very wrong here. Yes, it was an ancient custom to reveal oneself in this manner, if a person had done something truly beyond the pale. It was a way of saying that they did not deserve the honor and protection of the robes.
Unwillingly, Zhandar raised his head. A Zhore could not go pale, not the way a human could, but there was a taut look to Nalzhir’s mouth, and heavy shadows under his pale green eyes.
“What has happened?” Zhandar asked.
Rinzha reached for a tumbler of water on the side table next to the bed and gave it to Nalzhir. He drank, then nodded.
“I will wait outside while you speak,” she said.
She slipped past, dark and silent as a shadow. After she had shut the door behind her, Zhandar redirected his gaze to Nalzhir. It still felt wrong to look on him thus, but the other man had requested it.
“I failed her,” Nalzhir said, and cold began to trickle its way down Zhandar’s spine, moving out toward his limbs. It did not require a great leap of the imagination to deduce who the “her” Nalzhir was speaking of might be.
“What has happened to Trinity?” he demanded.
“She is gone. That man — that Gaian, Gabriel Brant — has taken her.”
At the mention of Brant’s name, the cold trickle became an icy flood, washing over Zhandar. He clenched his hands into fists, willing himself to remain calm. “How could he have taken her? Did he have the brazen nerve to come down here to Zhoraan to steal her?”
Nalzhir shook his head. His heavy black hair had been pulled back with a simple elastic band, rather than the elaborate metal holders the men of their people preferred. “No. We were on Kelzhar, for a meeting he had requested.”
“Wait,” Zhandar cut in, and held up a hand. “What meeting? What are you talking about?”
“Our diplomatic services bureau was contacted by this Mr. Brant. We all know that he is not an ambassador, but that was how he was presenting himself — with the backing of his government, which did not leave us many choices. They were accusing us of holding Ms. Knox against her will, and he demanded to see her in person. So I went with her to the second moon, to have this meeting and let the Consortium government know that she was here on Zhoraan voluntarily.”
“And you allowed yourself to be gulled by such a ruse?” Zhandar asked, not bothering to keep the incredulity out of his tone. “Do you have any idea what Gabriel Brant is capable of?”
“A good deal, thanks to the information Ms. Knox has passed along. We knew it was a risk. But it also offered the opportunity to defuse the tensions, so to speak, and to let Brant and his superiors know that we would not meekly hand her over to them.” Nalzhir let out a weary sigh then, and shook his head. “An outright refusal would have made matters so very much worse. It could have led to an escalation. I had guards with me, and we were technically on Zhore territory.”
“All of which obviously mattered very little, since Brant got the better of you and stole Trinity away despite your precautions.”
Nalzhir closed his eyes. To hide from what, Zhandar couldn’t know. It wasn’t as if the other man could see his expression. But perhaps the agent could feel the anger radiating from him. Zhandar wasn’t trying very hard to block it. Not now, when this man had allowed Trinity to be taken by that beast Gabriel Brant.
“I am well aware of my failings, Zhandar,” Nalzhir said at last. “And believe me, if I could somehow go back and change things, give up my life for hers, I gladly would. But that absolution is not allowed me.”
“So what happened?”
“Some kind of gas in the ventilation system. It caused all of us to fall unconscious. Brant and his cohorts were prepared, of course, and put on masks. But it happened so quickly that there was nothing any of us could have done.” He pushed himself up on the pillows, then coughed, an ugly rasping sound. “Apparently, the compound they used has some unpleasant after-effects, which is why I am here.”
Once again a ripple of fear moved through Zhandar’s veins. “He would use something so dangerous on a pregnant woman? I thought the child was what he truly wanted.”
“No, from what the doctors have bee
n able to ascertain, it affects Zhore more adversely than it does humans. Yes, Trinity must have been rendered unconscious like the rest of us, but she should not be experiencing any long-term effects from the gas.”
That response should have made Zhandar feel a bit more relieved, but he wasn’t. Not really. Because even if what had been done to her wouldn’t send her to the hospital, she was still in Gabriel Brant’s hands. From what Trinity had told him, Brant had no scruples. He would do whatever he wished to achieve his ends.
They had to get Trinity away from him.
“Where did he take her?” Zhandar demanded.
Nalzhir’s gaze shifted to the window, where the sun had just dipped behind the building next to them. “I don’t know, Zhandar. No one knows.”
* * *
Her head was splitting open. Trinity put her hand to her forehead, then realized it hadn’t literally broken apart…it just felt that way. With a groan, she opened her eyes, then immediately wished she hadn’t.
Gabriel Brant was standing at the foot of her bed, watching her with greedy eyes. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“Jesus Christ, Gabriel.” She pushed herself upright, noting at the same time that she still wore the close-fitting tunic and pants she’d had on at their supposed “meeting.” Well, thank God for that. At least he hadn’t undressed her and put her in a hospital gown while she was passed out. “Where am I?”
“Back at the base. The anesthetic gas only would have knocked you out for a half-hour or thereabouts, so we gave you a dose of a little something extra to keep you asleep until we got you here.”
Almost by instinct, her hand went to her stomach. If he’d given her something that would hurt Zhandar’s baby —
His eyes seemed to follow her movement. “Oh, no worries, Trinity. It wasn’t anything that could do any permanent damage. We wouldn’t take that risk with our precious cargo.”
She wanted to tell him the child wasn’t “his” cargo, but realized she wasn’t in any position to make that kind of argument. Instead, she set her jaw and looked away from him. This room had a window, and so she could see that same glowing nebula from a slightly different perspective. It was beautiful, but it did nothing to calm her soul.
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