Aimee watched his forehead knot in consternation. “The big question," he continued, "was where were you? For that we worked with JOH to track down your DNA. Salvan still had a trace of the cloaking serum in him, but he forgot to hide you. He was too obsessed and too arrogant to sort out the details.”
“What about the deck?” Aimee asked. “You couldn’t just leave it. They need you up there.”
“There are enough people remaining at their stations to assure me that we have control. And there were no Koron ships tailing us,” he added with a grin.
Aimee smiled at that, and then sobered at the sight of the charcoal scar just beneath her ribs. She wanted to touch it but there was not enough strength in her arm.
“You saved my life, Zak. He was just about to slice me open.”
Zak released her hand to rub his own over his face. It did not conceal the glimpse of ire beneath. He cast a lethal glare at the inactive figure on the floor.
“The only reason he is alive right now is because I made it here in time. I’m still struggling, Aimee.” A simple head shake could not banish his demons. “I’m struggling not to reach down there and put my fingers around his neck.”
Aimee moved her own fingers, using them as claws to drag her arm closer to him. She touched him and the connection proved enough of a distraction.
“You don’t kill your own, Raja said.”
Black eyebrows descended. “But—”
“Hush,” she interrupted. “My planet has too much racism. These are your people, Zak, and you know it. That is why it was so important for you to reach the main deck in their time of crisis. That’s why you needed to lead them. You will not let anything happen to anyone on this ship. Anyone.” She purposely stared down at Salvan.
For a while Zak remained silent and she shared that silence with him in comfort.
Still in conflict, his gaze settled on her side. "Are you hurt?" Hoarse concern deepened his tone.
"No. It burned for a second, but now it just itches and it's driving me crazy because I can't scratch it."
He reached over and pinched the fabric of her silver suit about an inch above the black scar and then pulled the material back so that it wasn't chafing her skin. "Does that help?"
"Oh my God, that is heaven." Her eyes rolled with relief.
"The material is burned. It's digging into your skin. We'll get you a new suit as soon as you can move."
Aimee concentrated and swayed her feet as they dangled over the edge of the bed. "See, it's getting there. I can move my legs…and my fingers too." She wiggled them. "My arms just feel like cement."
"Cement?" Zak hesitated and then lifted his eyebrows. "Ahh, we had a composite like that. It was what our dwellings were made out of. Liquid rock. I remember as a child asking my mother if I could go swimming in it."
"I'm guessing she wouldn't let you."
"No. But she said that knowing me, I’d find a way out of it." His smile was poignant.
"Zak, do you think I really have the power to cure this disease?"
Zak hefted off the bed and turned around to stand before her. His palms fell flat on the surface on either side of her thighs. With his dark features and riveting eyes, and that wicked grin—it was enough to make Aimee’s skin prickle with goose bumps.
"I can't tell that, Aimee. But I wouldn't mind if you experimented on me some more."
This playful side of Zak was irresistible. She loved the brooding, intense man—but this mischievous, sexy guy was just irresistible.
Wait a minute, did she just say, loved?
Before that thought could register, Zak's lips were on hers and she couldn’t think. Her arms wound around his neck and she sat up straight into his embrace.
Zak's mouth pulled away from hers, just far enough that he could whisper, "I think your arms are working again."
And then he kissed her, and she was lost, clinging to him with renewed strength.
When Zak finally drew back, she could tell it was with great reluctance. She whimpered from the loss of his touch.
"I want to show you so much," he declared in a husky voice. "It scares me, Aimee. I don't share with people. I never shared with people. I am dependable. I am loyal. I do everything in my power to protect the citizens of this ship—" he looked her in the eyes, "—but I have never shared anything of myself with anyone. And I want to now."
His hands dropped off the bed and he stepped back. "It's very alarming."
Forlorn, Aimee glanced down at the floor, wondering if she would be able to stand if she slipped off the bed.
There was only one way to find out.
Her feet hit the ground, but her legs felt like spaghetti noodles. Propping her elbow against the bed, she used her upper body to support her, and gradually the numbness receded enough to enable her to stand.
She took a step towards Zak, knowing that he would catch her if she stumbled. He was letting her do this on her own, though. The confidence in his glance motivated her. She managed one step, followed by another, and then she planted her palms against his chest and smiled up at him.
“I’m back,” she professed.
“Yes you are.” He smiled.
They were interrupted by the arrival of the guards. Brawny men in crisp silver uniforms. Two out of the three men exhibited red-tainted abdomens. They bent to haul Salvan to his feet as his head lolled atop his shoulders. Pallid eyes fluttered open and latched onto Aimee. There was a maniacal avarice in them—as if he was a homeless man who had not eaten in weeks and she was a rare steak.
In that instant, a JOH flitted into the room and bobbed up and down to draw attention.
“Raja needs you,” he rushed. “In the C-3 chamber of the Bio Ward.” He paused a second and added, “the real Raja.”
“Can you make it?” Zak reached for Aimee’s arm. “Are you okay to walk?”
“If it’s good news, I can fly!”
But what if it was bad news? Either way, she had to know.
“Aimee—”
Salvan’s chilled voice froze her. Her body jerked under the assault of that simple summons.
“I am not through with you.”
Zak filled the gap between her and Salvan.
“I let you live,” Zak fumed. “Don’t make me regret that.”
Aimee peered around Zak’s shoulder to see Salvan's face pinch with aversion. “You are not with her all the time. You have a ship to command, don’t you? She will be vulnerable. And if you are so patriotic, why would you deprive the Anthumians their opportunity to learn more from her composition?”
A shiver ran down her spine and she slipped behind Zak to avoid connecting with the manic blue eyes of the scientist.
Thick shoulder muscles bunched before her as Zak reached forward. She could see his hand traveling towards Salvan’s neck and she could hear Zak's lethal threat.
“They tell me that it’s not right for me to kill you. Maybe I am too patriotic." His hand wavered. "But if you ever touch her again, I will cut off your hands.”
With no more regard for Salvan, Zak turned and muttered, “Come on. We have more important places to be.”
* * *
They entered the main laboratory, a giant vaulted structure packed with industrious scientists huddled over exotic instruments that looked capable of performing anything from neurosurgery to deep sea diving. Raja leaned over, her golden hair cascading in front of her shoulders. She sensed their approach and glanced up. She wore safety glasses, and inside those lenses Aimee witnessed a kaleidoscope of whirling particles. Cells, perhaps? Chromosomes? The goggles were like a microscope strapped to Raja’s face.
Raja lifted the goggles atop her head and beamed. She pinned her shoulders back to show off the front of her suit. It was a heavenly shade of silver from head to toe.
“Raja!”
Raja, who normally looked so pretty and reserved, now stood with the goggles on top of her head, looking like a frog. The straps caught in her hair and the static made the fine
strands spike out around her head.
"Aimee—" She stepped up and grabbed Aimee's arms, squeezing them. "I was the first trial. There was no time to go through the proper channels. What was the worst that was going to happen? My fate was already sealed." She drew in a deep breath. "But the effect was instantaneous. The damaged cells were repaired within seconds of the injection."
Raja shook her head in wonder, and then looked at Zak. "There is a material in Aimee's saliva that we've been able to tap into. We produced enough serum to disperse in the Jay-nine. If they report back what we are expecting to hear, the remainder of the ship will be given a dose, and we will be able to manufacture the serum synthetically now."
Zak crossed his arms. His face expressed cautious enthusiasm.
"And Aimee? All you require from her is that small sample given in the vial? You won't be searching for a way to get inside her?"
Raja's lips thinned. "Not all scientists are like Salvan. As best we can determine, the anti-oxidant stems from something that Aimee ate once—or repeatedly—to the point that it has worked its way into her glands."
"Wouldn't it be easier to determine if you were to slice me open?" Aimee's voice wavered. She wasn't really suggesting it, but she wanted to hear Raja refute the offer.
The zeal in Raja's glance waned. She offered a discreet smile. "No, Aimee. We are not going to dissect you. You will be able to help us voluntarily if you choose, and it will in no way be invasive." She paused. "If Vodu recovers from this disease...if we didn't reach him too late, he will dole out Salvan's punishment. If it is too late," she flicked her gaze towards Zak, "you will determine his fate."
Zak didn't say anything. He glanced at Aimee and his gaze lingered on the singed material beneath her ribs. He took a deep breath and declared, "Let's all hope Vodu lives, then."
* * *
The wait was not long. Reports were coming back via JOH that all the cases of administered serum in the Jay-nine had repaired the damaged cells, and the disease was completely eradicated. Very shortly thereafter, Vodu himself appeared in one of the windows along the wall. He looked tired, but his skin bore a healthy pigment and his eyes were as vibrant and commanding as ever.
"Aimee," he began. "I cannot apologize enough for the acts of Salvan. If we had lost you—" He shook his head to negate the thought. "But his mistake in taking you from your planet, be it intentional or not, has saved our race. Our gratitude cannot be measured. I am on my way back to the deck now—" he glanced off the right of the screen and Chara's face joined him. Her hair was lustrous, her skin flushed, and her violet eyes could seduce a monk.
"Zak, I would like you to meet me there," Vodu continued. "I have checked our coordinates." He looked directly at Aimee as he added, "We have less than half an orbit until we reach your solar system. Our greatest gift that we can offer is to return you to your home."
Aimee's eyes locked with Zak's. She could no longer hear Vodu or the metallic clangs of the scientists at work. She was only aware of a buzzing inside her ears—the sound you heard right before you were going to faint. But she wasn't going to faint. Fainting would mean she would lose that connection with Zak. His gaze harbored shadows of pain, resolve, and some unnamed emotion. It was that elusive facet that she held onto. She wanted to cry out, say something, Zak. Say you don't want me to go.
"Zak," Vodu called, "the deck."
Zak blinked. He stood erect and nodded at Vodu. "I'm on my way."
Vodu and Chara disappeared. Zak looked at Aimee. He didn't speak, but it was as if she was aware of his heart pounding. It beat as heavy and solemn as hers.
Raja cast a discreet glance between them and murmured something about needing to get back to work. She bowed and retreated. Even JOH spun around and trailed after her.
Still, nothing was said. A few scarce feet separated them, but Aimee was wholly aware of him. She could feel the weight of his thoughts bearing down on her. She wanted to go to him—to feel his arms around her and hear him murmur words that would assure her that everything was going to be alright. But he stood resigned.
"I have to go," he whispered.
Aimee nodded. "I know."
She cursed the tears that worked their way behind her eyes. Why was she crying? She would see him again. Probably within the hour. After his meeting with Vodu.
"Aimee—"
That was why she was crying. It was that hoarse tone of finality with which he said her name. The tears started to fall unchecked now until his face blurred before her.
"Don't." She heard him say. And still he did not touch her.
"Aimee." His husky call came again, but she just shook her head and stepped back. One pace. Two.
Distance. She needed distance before she lost it.
Chapter Fifteen
Aimee sat on the ledge of the pool inside her room. Her finger traced a pattern in the water as she watched the ripples tickle the border on the far side. She had donned a new suit and now sat facing the window. Space provided a stark black curtain mottled with brilliant fragments, like floating shards of glass.
JOH was nearby with his mouth clamped shut. He looked impatient, but he knew enough not to speak to her now. Still, he practically vibrated with the need to do so.
Aimee stood up and approached the celestial vista. She squinted at the pulsing orbs in the distance. Was one of them Earth? A half-orbit. How long was that? Time was so undefined here. Nearly five years had passed since she walked behind that pond. She was almost twenty-three-years-old. Her body might reflect that, but her mind felt much older. Much wiser. And such enlightenment pained her.
She placed her palm flat on the glass. It was not cold to the touch.
Staring at her hand on that clear plane, she noticed how pale it was. They were all so pale on the Horus and now she had become one of them. Zak was not pale. It was not that he was a bronzed California lifeguard, but his skin was the tone of a man who had lived in the sun. How did he retain that?
What did it matter? She was going home.
JOH bobbed beside her as if he was riding the Bonsai Pipeline. She tapped his screen and his eyes slid in her direction.
“You know you don’t have to hit me like that,” he challenged, sounding miffed. “You can just say my name.”
“Well, why the heck didn’t you tell me that long ago?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Aimee shook her head. “Why did I expect that answer?”
“Because you predicted that I—”
“Bah, it was a rhetorical question. Stop!”
JOH clamped his mouth shut…for a minute. “You seem depressed, Aimee. I thought you would be happy to be returning to your parents.”
“Now you psychoanalyze as well? What kind of computer are you, anyway?”
“Stop calling me a computer. I cannot adequately translate what the symbols J.O.H. represent, but I am an integrated forecaster majoring in dialect, historical, and informational storage. My reference base scopes the majority of the universe. I am the communications host of this fine ship. I use genetics for identification, although I accept that I recently erred with that attribute. You can be assured that I am restructuring that identity practice as we speak. I am capable of operating most every synthetic function on the Horus with the exception of some rudimentary culinary tasks."
"You don't cook? Do you do windows?"
"Which windows, the ones we use to view the events of the ship or the exterior plated alorium panels?"
Aimee sighed. "Alright, JOH. I won't call you a computer anymore."
His frown morphed into a smile.
"But you'd be a little more credible if you had legs," she added.
His black eyebrows crisscrossed. "Nothing more than mecaw inconveniences those limbs are."
"JOH, how much time do I have?" She paused. "How much time before we reach my solar system?"
"A little less than half a rotation of the Alphi universe. The Alphi universe moves like what you would call a cyclone. So that wo
uld be the equivalent of—" his eyes flat-lined, "maybe a quarter of your years."
90-some days in a universe that moved as fast as a tornado. She had already begun to formulate her own time-translation during her spell on the Horus. 90 Earth days was something like a week on the Horus. One week and she would be back home.
She had been gone for five years.
Had her parents changed? Would they accept that she had changed?
"JOH, I'm going to go take a walk."
He glided towards the door and waited like a puppy with his tail wagging.
"Alone."
If he had a tail, it just stopped wagging.
* * *
Aimee traveled the corridors of the Horus with confidence. What had initially been an intimidating, sterile world was now vibrant with color and activity as she peered through the diaphanous walls, sometimes seeing three chambers deep. The murals were what fascinated her the most, though. Today she slowed her pace. At least it was some modicum of speed that she had control over.
She studied the images of life on Anthum. As best she could relate, they looked like works of art from ancient Greece. The buildings. The gardens. All the women had long, shimmering hair. Some wore flowing gowns, and some the traditional bodysuits. Men were adorned in outfits similar to the ones they wore on the Horus. Their bodies were bigger though. Stronger. And the murals depicted them in various states of construction. One graphic looked like a group at work on the Horus itself. The mural scaled the length of the corridor as she stepped back to take it all in. Platforms were stacked as high as the eye could see, and each platform was loaded with men and women toiling over the exterior of the ship. Both sexes worked in tandem to lift and haul. There seemed no delineation between genders when it came to labor tasks, but there was a very obvious contradiction in physical forms.
Aimee slipped into a lateral transport and tapped the blue crystal on the console. The outside panel dropped open.
Alorium. She should have asked JOH more about alorium. It would be a cinch to pass engineering school if she knew the composition of the material her planet referred to as glass.
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