gaian consortium 06 - zhore deception

by Pope, Christine

  Trinity sank into his mind then, getting every useful piece of information she could extract. The station was out in the middle of nowhere — she didn’t even recognize the sector designation — and while, because of security reasons, its staff didn’t seem to rotate out on anything like a regular basis, they did have a supply ship come out every three standard months to bring food, equipment, spare parts, and whatever else might be needed.

  That ship was not technically a Consortium ship, but a private vessel subcontracted for the job. And it was going to be here tomorrow.

  Was it bringing the surrogate as well, or would she be arriving by a different ship? Trinity guessed the surrogate must be on board, because otherwise that would have been too much of a coincidence. Either way, it didn’t matter all that much, because she realized that the supply vessel was her only true hope here. Somehow she would have to find a way to get on it, and be away before anyone even noticed that she was missing.

  No problem.

  She wanted to grimace, but couldn’t, because Blake was saying, “So I guess once she’s rested after her trip here, they’ll do the…procedure.”

  “Great.” She paused, then asked, “Do you think it’ll hurt?”

  He gave her a scornful look. “That fetus isn’t even the size of a fingernail yet. Of course it won’t hurt. You won’t even notice a difference.”

  Except that Zhandar’s child will have been taken from me. I think I’ll notice that a good deal.

  “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” She slanted a look at Blake. His expression was fairly neutral, but she noted the slightest lift at one corner of his mouth. It didn’t take a mind reader to guess what he was thinking right then.

  He was thinking about what Gabriel was going to do to her once he didn’t have to worry about interfering with the half-Zhore child’s development.

  Trinity swallowed. She had to find some way to sneak on that shuttle tomorrow. Or else….

  Or else Gabriel would have won. And after that, she wasn’t sure if she’d still have the strength to resist him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Lirzhan led Zhandar to the room where he would be staying. It was large and airy, with a fountain in one corner surrounded by lacy ferns. He might not be able to rest while he was here, but that wouldn’t be because the room wasn’t comfortable.

  Apparently picking up on some of what Zhandar was thinking, Lirzhan said, “I know it’s difficult, but do what you can to get some sleep. I will bring some necessities for you and leave them outside your door.”

  “I thank you for your hospitality,” Zhandar said formally.

  “It is yours for as long as you need it,” Lirzhan replied. He hesitated for a second or two, then went on, “Believe me, I know what it feels like to have the woman you love in the hands of those who appear to have no morals, no scruples. I know nothing of this Gabriel Brant save what I have been told, but I do know he values the child that Trinity carries. He will not do anything to endanger either one of them. That may be scant comfort to you, but scant comfort is better than none at all.”

  Actually, Lirzhan’s words did reassure Zhandar somewhat. Brant clearly would do anything to get what he wanted, but now that thing he wanted was a human/Zhore hybrid to study. Doing anything that might hurt Trinity would only damage his prize as well. No, for now she was probably safe enough, if chafing at her captivity.

  “Thank you for that,” Zhandar said. “Trinity is a resourceful woman, and intelligent. I am sure she is doing what she must to bide her time until help can come to her.”

  “Precisely. So sleep now, and with any luck, we will have some news for you soon.”

  Zhandar nodded, then bade Lirzhan good night and shut the door to the guest room. He had not brought a change of clothes, but perhaps that would be part of what his host had said he would provide. In the meantime, it was enough to take off the heavy robes and drape them over a side chair, then pull the clasp from his hair and shake it loose. After having it pulled back tightly all day, it felt good to let it fall over his shoulders, free at last from the confining clip.

  Then it was time to remove his boots, and lie down on the bed. He tried not to think of Trinity, but the more he attempted to force her from his mind, the more she was there — the pleading in her blue-green eyes the last time they had spoken, the worry and the fear that she had tried to barricade from him. At the time, he had thought himself completely justified in his anger, but now he could only berate himself once again, wishing he’d been able to look past the hurt and the betrayal and be just a little more understanding.

  Right then, he would have given anything to be able to hold her in his arms again. He could only pray that his stubbornness hadn’t stolen the one thing he realized was more precious to him than anything else.

  * * *

  It was still quite dark when the door chime sounded. Zhandar sat up in bed, blinking at his unfamiliar surroundings. For a second or two, he couldn’t place where he was. Then he remembered — Lirzhan and Alexa’s homestead.

  His host’s voice came from beyond the door. “My apologies, but Alexa has some information for you.”

  That was the only spur Zhandar needed. In a flash, he was out of bed and reaching for his cloak. He’d barely finished fastening it around his throat and pulling the hood low before he was pushing the button to open the door.

  “What is it?” he asked, then stepped out into the corridor.

  “Good news. Come with me.”

  Hoping — and wondering if he was foolish for allowing himself to hope before he’d heard anything else — Zhandar followed the other man down the hallway to another room, clearly an office. Alexa sat at a desk, facing a comm, although the screen was dark. Nevertheless, a man’s voice was coming from the speaker.

  “…always think they’re so clever, but they’re not as good at covering their tracks as they think they are. Especially if you know where to look.”

  The voice was clearly Gaian, speaking Galactic Standard. The man’s tone had a faintly ironic quality, the words drawled, as if he were simultaneously bored and amused by the current topic of conversation.

  “So anyway, yes, there has been an unusual amount of money funneled into a station in Sector 1754, including a good deal of appropriations for medical equipment. Why someone would need that kind of equipment for a space station out in the middle of nowhere, one that’s not servicing a colony or a fleet or something along those lines, I have no idea.” The voice paused, then continued, “Well, actually, I think we all have an idea.”

  “So you’re sure that’s it, Jackson?” Alexa flicked a brief glance over her shoulder to acknowledge Lirzhan and Zhandar as they came in, but quickly turned back toward the comm.

  “Am I one hundred percent positive? No. But I’d say we’re in the ballpark of around eight-five percent. And if I were a betting man, I’d bet on those odds.”

  “You’ve found her?” Zhandar murmured.

  “We think so,” Alexa replied. “That is, Jackson did the analysis, and there’s just nothing else out in that range that’s showing any kind of activity. In Sector 1759, there’s some mining going on in a system with a number of satellites that contain unusual concentrations of heavy metals, but it was fairly obvious that Trinity was on a space station, not a planet. Anyway, all the traffic in Sector 1759 is above board and accounted for. But in Sector 1754, which is supposed to be completely empty — there are only two systems that even have planets in that sector — he’s tracked traffic that has no business being there.”

  “Yes,” drawled the voice from the speaker. “And more to come. There’s a supply ship — the Cote d’Ivoire — that’s on its way there right now. ETA is around 22:00 hours their time tomorrow.”

  “We’ll have to intercept that ship,” Zhandar said. Surely if they were able to stop it, board it, then they could use the supply vessel as a way to get into the space station.

  “Two steps ahead of you, cowboy,” Jackson Wyler said. Bemused by the
Gaian’s off-had tone, Zhandar wondered what in the galaxy a cowboy was. He didn’t have time to pursue the question, however, because Wyler was speaking again. “I’ve already sent the coordinates to Alexa, along with the codes to show that you’re with the Gaian Defense Fleet and have orders to board their vessel, due to its carrying contraband.”

  “But” — Zhandar looked from the empty screen where Jackson’s face should have been to Alexa, who seemed more or less unruffled by his declaration — “if this supply ship is carrying cargo for a Consortium space station, why would the Gaian Defense Fleet have any reason to stop it?”

  “Typical bureaucratic snafu,” Alexa said. Then, appearing to take pity on his continuing confusion, she went on, “The Consortium is so large, and so complex, that contradicting orders are given all the time. Since the supply ship is piloted by subcontractors, they’re not going to be totally sure of what’s going on. They’ll be a lot easier to intimidate and board than an actual ship of the GDF’s support corps.”

  Lirzhan spoke for the first time. “I hope you’re not planning on being one of those who intend to intimidate and board that supply vessel.”

  Alexa sent a rueful glance in the direction of her swollen midsection and chuckled. “No, I don’t think I would be very effective. And obviously neither you nor Zhandar are going to pass muster, either.”

  “I don’t care anything about ‘passing muster,’” Zhandar protested. “But if you think I am going to stay here when I should be going to Trinity — ”

  “Hold your horses,” Jackson broke in. “I know some people who can help. I’ll set up a rendezvous just outside Zhoraan’s system. You can meet there, and they’ll take you in the rest of the way.”

  “People?” Zhandar wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. Yes, Alexa had said they could trust Jackson, that he was no longer a servant of the Consortium. Even so, he didn’t like the idea of completely handing the rescue mission over to a group of strangers.

  “Trained professionals who’ll be able to extract your girl. You ever attempted a rescue of someone held in a Consortium facility, Zhandar?”

  “Of course not,” he replied, liking even less the aura of subtle sarcasm that seemed to pervade Jackson’s words.

  “Well, then. I’m not saying you can’t go along, but you’ll have to keep yourself safely hidden until the time is right. Last I checked, the GDF didn’t have any Zhore on its duty rosters.”

  The hacker had a point. As much as he hated to admit it, Zhandar knew he was more than conspicuous. Even if he sacrificed his privacy, rid himself of his bulky robes, and put on a stolen uniform, he could never pass himself off as a Gaian.

  “I understand,” he said stiffly.

  “Great. Then I guess we’re all good to go. I assume you can arrange passage from Zhoraan to the coordinates I’ve given you?”

  “Yes,” Alexa replied. “I’ve passed the word along to those in the government here who are helping us. They’ll have a ship standing by.”

  “Okay. Twenty-two hundred hours their time gives you” — a pause while Jackson apparently did a few calculations — “a little more than twelve standard hours to get to your destination. You have a little slop time, but not much. So don’t waste it.”

  “We won’t.” Alexa paused, then added, “Thank you, Jackson.”

  “Thank me later, after you’ve gotten your girl back. In the meantime, give ’em hell.”

  The transmission seemed to end there. Alexa swiveled her chair back toward Zhandar and Lirzhan. “All right, we have three hours. Nalzhir is already on his way here with a shuttle, and there’s a ship at the base on Kelzhar that’s being fueled and readied as we speak. They’ll take you to the rendezvous point.”

  “You were able to coordinate all that already?” Zhandar supposed it wasn’t outside the bounds of possibility, but something about Alexa’s smooth efficiency was a little intimidating.

  “Well, most of it was Nalzhir’s doing. I just sent him the latest updates, and he got things moving along the proper channels.”

  “Still — ”

  She waved a hand. “It’s the least I could do. Anyway, there’s no time to waste. As Jackson said, it’s time to give ’em some hell.”

  * * *

  Trinity knew they had surveillance cameras covering every inch of the suite where she was confined, and so she had to make sure she didn’t do anything that would attract any particular attention. Whoever was watching the feed wouldn’t see much right now, since she was merely sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, eyes shut and her hands resting lightly on her knees.

  To an outside observer, it would simply look as if she was meditating, but anyone who knew her well would have also known that she didn’t meditate. Then again, no one did know her well. Not even Zhandar. He loved her, or thought he did, but he didn’t truly know her.

  That was all right. Some days, she didn’t even want to know herself.

  This was something she used to do back when she was first coming to terms with her gift, with what it could and couldn’t do. Most days, all she’d wanted to do was push it as far back in her mind as she possibly could, because it was all too overwhelming. All those thoughts, all those minds, beating at her. What person could possibly put up with that?

  But she’d also learned that if she sat very quiet and very still, didn’t fight those intruding thoughts but instead allowed them to flow through her mind, she could learn a great deal. That was how she’d discovered that her mother truly didn’t know who Trinity’s father was — she’d thought it was a man named Dominic Alton, but it could also have been Roman Cole, since their coloring wasn’t dissimilar, and….

  Trinity had shut down that particular thought tendril, because the last thing she’d wanted was to discover any more sordid details than she already had. Since she resembled her mother except for her coloring — Acantha Knox was blonde, with hazel eyes — Trinity knew the particulars of her features wouldn’t provide any clues as to who her father actually was. She could have tried to track down those two men and attempted to learn for herself after her mother was gone, but in the end she’d decided it didn’t matter. Neither of them had been around to see her grow up, so why should she bother now that she was an adult?

  It wasn’t just her mother’s thoughts she’d sensed in that moment, though, but everyone in their building: the Tsao family next door, the Garcias down the hall, the McKenzies and the D’Ambrosios and everyone else. Tom D’Ambrosio was cheating on his wife. The oldest McKenzie girl, who was a year older than Trinity and always seemed impossibly worldly and glamorous to her, was two weeks late for her period and freaking out that she might be pregnant, even with the hormone shots. And so on.

  The intensity of the experience always wrung Trinity out, and so she tried to avoid casting her thoughts so widely unless it was absolutely necessary. In fact, she hadn’t done it for years, more out of self-preservation than anything else. Most of the time, there wasn’t much useful to be gleaned from delving into so many people’s minds, unless discovering sordid details about their lives was something a person like Blake might find amusing. Trinity never found it amusing, though. Sad and scary and overwhelming was more like it.

  Now, though, ranging through the station and attempting to learn where everyone was and what they were doing might offer Trinity her only chance of escape.

  She caught the echo of someone who had to be Blake. His thoughts were impenetrable; clearly, he kept his guard up at all times, not just when he was in her presence. That discovery didn’t surprise her too much, since she did more or less the same thing. It was the only way to stay sane when you were gifted — or cursed — with psychic abilities.

  And then there were the medical techs, including the doctors who’d operated on her. It seemed they were in the process of analyzing her blood. Trinity didn’t even remember giving a blood sample, but she’d been knocked out for a good long while when she was brought here. It could have easily been taken from her then. There w
ere ten in that group, from what she could tell, but it also seemed as if they generally didn’t venture far from the level, three down from where Trinity now sat, that had been designated as the med center.

  Guards, too. She’d never seen any of them, but there were twenty assigned to the station. A small support staff — two people working in the kitchen, three technicians whose jobs entailed making sure the systems regulating the station kept operating efficiently. Since she couldn’t sense anyone else, she guessed that all other duties, including janitorial, must be handled by mechs of various types.

  And then…Gabriel. He was on the level above hers, but almost on the opposite side of the station. At the moment, he didn’t appear to be doing anything to mask his thoughts, probably because both she and Blake were far enough away that Gabriel must have decided they couldn’t offer any kind of threat.

  Right then, Trinity wished he still had his barriers up, because her handler was thinking about her. And not in a logistical sort of way, such as contemplating the details regarding the surgery that would hand off her child to the surrogate who was about to arrive, or how long the recovery time afterward would be. No, in that moment he was indulging a fantasy of forcing her to her knees, then holding her by the hair while making her suck his cock.

  Bile rose in her throat, and her eyes opened. The concentration — the trance, or whatever you wanted to call it — was gone. She made herself take a breath, and then she unfolded her legs and got up from the bed. A glass of water certainly wasn’t enough to erase that image from her mind, and yet right then, it was the only thing she had.