"There is no need to light up organ failure on your suits anymore?" Aimee asked, knowing that the plague that assaulted these lovely nomads had finally been eradicated...thanks to her.
"We could never let go of that paranoia. The illumination of these garments is slightly more discreet." Raja's golden eyebrows hefted. "Romantic," she recited. "Idealistic. Passionate. Lover." Her high cheekbones glowed with a dusk that her outfit could never produce. She hesitated and regrouped.
"He missed you so much, Aimee. He was a lost soul after you left. He poured himself into his goal and rarely spoke to anyone. When he pulled me aside to deliver that last message—well, it wasn't something I could dismiss. Zak never had a request in his life. I had to heed this one."
Raja slumped back in her chair. "But, what if I've brought you up here and there is no hope that he is alive? I have taken you from your family." She glanced up imploringly. "Please consider Vodu's offer to have the Warriors take you back to Earth."
Not likely.
But Aimee did feel bad for the position Raja had placed herself in. She knew the woman was conflicted. Above all else, though, she was grateful to Raja for heeding Zak's last command.
"Thank you, Raja." Aimee's gratitude was so tremendous it squeezed her throat when she tried to speak. "Thank you so much for listening to him." She coughed into her curled fist. "Exactly how long do we have until we reach Ziratak?"
Raja cocked her head. "Half of a renna. Ummm, a little over one of your rotations."
A little over a year. Quick to recall her formula for time in space, Aimee calculated that to be a few months. After a five-year sojourn, the pain of waiting several more months sapped her. It would be an interminable delay, but she was already scheming. If Zak was in trouble he did not need a weak, lovelorn woman from Earth to come save him.
He needed a Warrior.
"Raja, I'm going to need your help."
* * *
Retaining composure during Vodu's feast, Aimee finally convinced the commander that she was prepared to stay aboard the Horus until its next pass to Earth. Five years. A ren. Time. What was time? Time could now only be measured by the seconds, the heartbeats—each breath until she reached Ziratak. She had to find Zak.
Alive.
Chapter Two
Ziratak
They were coming. It wasn't so much the sound that revealed them. It was the subtle vibration of the ground beneath his feet, like the percussion of a distant explosion. It was their march. The dead tread of stone against sand. A ghostly gait of menace.
Zak swiped his forearm across his brow. The sun showed no mercy, and this desert vista offered little refuge in which to hide.
Judging by the increased reverberation and the trickle of sand cascading down the closest dune, he guessed them to be on the other side of the coral knoll. Hefting the burdensome solar ray, he aimed it at the line where shadow met light, waiting for their grotesque silhouettes to appear. He would use their own weapon against them and depending on how many of the Korons there were, he would destroy each one until they claimed his life.
Perspiration trickled into his eyes, clashing with the glare of the suns. The deadly blend blinded him as thousands of diamonds cascaded across his field of vision. In that shower of gems he saw someone approach. It was a feminine silhouette. Lean. Tall. Beautiful. His body jerked in shock as the sun radiated off the flowing auburn hair.
“Aimee,” he whispered with desperation.
She was exquisite, as if the suns had stirred the sand into over five feet of gold and rendered this woman that he had missed so fiercely. He took a faltering step towards her. Aimee could take his exhaustion away. She could take the pain away. Her touch would make him feel whole again. How desperately he wanted to feel her touch.
“Aimee,” he called, his voice hoarse from thirst.
Zak blinked only to find that the phantom was a trick of the light, another bantam effect of the madness that wormed into his soul.
Aimee was gone, and in her place the shadows grew. They became tall, macabre caricatures of men, deformed and still increasing in size until the suns were obliterated and only blackness remained.
Zak held tight his weapon.
* * *
Aimee had a plan. And, at the moment there was only one person—or thing—that she could trust to assist her with it. But, where the heck was he? In the past, she couldn’t take two steps without bumping into one of the floating computers named JOH. JOH was an advanced, nearly life-like version of the internet on the Horus. His bright blue face passed through corridors eager to assist with information and impart his own spin on the goings-on of the ship.
Feigning fatigue from stress, Aimee escaped Vodu and Raja’s supervision by retiring to her assigned quarters. Marching down the stark white corridor, she was astounded to have not yet run into one of the ubiquitous blue-faced tablets.
As she was about to cross through an intersection and enter the linear transport, a metal skeletal leg stepped out from the junction to her right. Its clawed aluminum foot hit the marble with a chilling screech. It startled her because they didn’t have robots when she was here five years ago.
When the second leg rounded the corner there was no torso atop it. There were no arms, no neck, and no head. There was merely a familiar computer tablet with two legs protruding from beneath it.
“What the—” she whispered.
The metal legs halted. The monitor resting atop them flashed a blue orb, something akin to a vibrant crystal skull. Inside that skull, black sockets grew larger by the second.
“Aimeeeeeeeeee!”
The legs kicked into action. Clang. Clang. Clang. His movement was as fluid as a rusted gate.
“Aimee, I just found out you were on board. Raja tampered with my data feed.” His black mouth puckered into a pout. “I knew we were above your planet, but she scrambled my packets so that I could not tell you had been beamed up. Why would she do that, Aimee?”
“JOH, you have legs!”
Aimee still gawked at the metal limbs that looked straight out of Terminator.
JOH lifted one leg and wiggled his three celluloid toes. “Before you left, you told me I needed legs.” He bent his metal kneecap. “I’m still trying to figure out what benefit these things hold. They slow my progress tremendously.”
Crossing her arms, Aimee gave him a bemused smile. “They make you look more—grounded.”
“Grounded.” Black eyes blinked. “The curse of gravity. Not every JOH has been encumbered with these anchors. Only a few betas.” His enthusiasm returned. “I am so happy you have returned!” And then his mirth waned. “Zak was never the same after you left.”
It wasn’t like the old days where she could lift this JOH to eye-level, so she hunched over to whisper into the monitor.
“What do you know of Zak, JOH? Did he say anything to you before he left?”
Obsidian orbs sliced left and then right before returning to her. “He said he would be back. He lied. He is not back.”
Aimee surged her fingers into her hair, drawing it away from her face as if it could ease some of the strain. The strength in her legs failed and she tucked against the wall, sliding down it until she sat on the floor with her face in her hands.
“I want him back,” she whispered. “I want Zak.”
There was a soft scrape of metal as JOH zeroed in, hovering over her on his crooked legs.
“In half a ren we will be in Ziratak’s solar system. They are going to send out a search party to find him, but the mission will be set up for failure again.”
Through blurred vision she glanced up at the blue face. “Why so?” she challenged.
JOH’s legs flexed as he peered around the corner and jerked back before her. “Even though the terra angels have been re-engineered for long distance hauls, Ziratak is a big planet. A diminutive search party will not be able to check everywhere in the limited time they are offered. It will be just like last time. Unless they get extremely lucky and locate Zak imme
diately, they will be forced to withdraw.”
Withdraw.
There was only one choice.
“JOH, I want to be on board one of those search missions.”
Azure crystals chimed as they scattered and reformed into a face. A face cast in disapproval. “Not possible,” he admonished.
Hoisting her back up the wall, Aimee rose to look down at the three-foot figure. “I have waited five years to be back with the man I love. I have had my body ripped into millions of pieces and transported through the stars only to reform here on the Horus and be told that it is not possible for me to go after Zak. Maybe something got lost in the translation, but I did not ask, JOH. I am going to be aboard one of those missions. I am going to find Zak and bring him back here with me. It’s not a matter for negotiation.”
JOH tapped one of his aluminum toes. It might have been comical if she wasn’t so charged with anxiety and adrenaline.
Onyx orbs stared at her. She could see her worried expression reflected in them. Even in that brief glimpse, she recognized the deluge of tears that waited to be shed later.
“Aimee,” he began in a cajoling tone. “There is only one terra angel with the capabilities to spend an extended period away from the Horus. That ship will be staffed by two of the most efficient Warriors we have. It is not big enough to accommodate more.”
Before she could interject, he continued. “Any other ships joining in the mission will have the period of one of Ziratak’s rotations—several days before they are forced to return. If—if—we could get you on one of those recons, that is all the time you would have.” Again he interrupted her. “Vodu will forbid it, you know. And you do not have the training needed for such a mission.”
Aimee crossed her arms and waited. “Are you through?”
JOH blinked. Several times.“For now.”
“I thought you all were supposed to be technologically advanced. What type of lame spacecraft can only stay away for one lousy rotation of a planet?”
There was no time to recognize the humor in her disparaging statement. She wanted answers.
JOH’s eyes narrowed. “You combine the time it takes for that huge planet to rotate—Ziratak is much larger than Earth,” he was quick to add. “And then you equate the progress of the Horus itself.”
It’s not as if the Horus is going to pull up in a parking space and wait...
Zak’s words and the recollection of his grin distracted her. She focused on JOH’s litany.
“We use an ore that is artificially produced in the Jay-four satellite. It is an abundant mineral on Anthum, but easily manufactured here.”
Manufacturing. Now, he was talking her language. After graduation from college, she had spent a year as a project engineer in an automotive manufacturing plant. It was a position that made her father proud.
“JOH, can you take me to your manufacturing satellite?”
The change in her demeanor startled the computer. His black eyes narrowed.
“Might I recommend visiting the Jay-four satellite after you have had a decent rest? You look a bit—”
Her eyebrows hefted in challenge.
“You look lovely,” he quickly added.
Aimee almost laughed. How many computers had charm? Tact aside, perhaps JOH was right. Ready to head a one-woman militia to save Zak, she recognized that she needed to think clearly. Being irrational was not going to save him. And, no matter what obstacle presented itself, that was what she was going to do. Save Zak.
* * *
Alone.
JOH had returned Aimee to the very same accommodations she occupied during her previous tenure on the Horus. Disregarding the tiny pool that shimmered behind opulent columns, she walked directly towards the bowl-shaped window and placed her palms flat against the glass surface. She leaned forward, resting her forehead there. It was neither warm nor cold to the touch. The wondrous vista of stars and celestial marvels seemed bleak to her. She searched the closest planets, a pair of crimson orbs that played tag behind the Horus.
What did Ziratak look like? She needed to know because every night she was going to stand here and search for it.
There was no audience now. No one eager to welcome her back. She was alone, staring at the stars, left to wonder and worry about Zak. These very same tasks consumed her every night on Earth, but there, she was helpless. Here, she was closer. She would find him, and she would not accept any of the wordless fears expressed on the pale faces of these passengers. Zak was alive. The alternative was too grim to accept.
In the glass she witnessed tears coursing down her cheeks. The burning liquid illuminated her eyes, or perhaps it was the reflection of a thousand stars.
What had the poet said? “Do not go quietly into the night...” As beautiful as the perpetual night of space was...she would not go quietly into it. She would fight for the man she loved, and she would bring him back.
Chapter Three
A soft staccato against her door roused Aimee. She was already awake, and had been for some time, but the new garments proved an obstacle. The slim, sparkling blue pants slipped up her thighs and hugged low on her hips showing off her runner’s body. She was not the awkward adolescent that once walked the opalescent corridors of the Horus. Tall and thin, Aimee now looked more like an athlete, and the slim pants made her legs seem endless. It was the top that was giving her a battle. She stood in her cotton bra and stared at her frown in the bathroom mirror.
The staccato rhythm at the door repeated.
You’re just going to have to wait, whoever you are. It was probably JOH. JOH had not evolved from his puppy-like enthusiasm.
Aimee’s forearms were stuck in the tight sleeves of the blouse. Again she hiked the garment over her head and tried to shimmy it past her shoulders. Her head poked out, and her auburn hair swayed to a static waltz above her head.
“Aimee?”
Raja. Thank God.
With her arms still stuck in the shirt, Aimee walked behind the door and jerked her hand to open it, quickly stepping aside so as not be seen.
Raja entered, casting a curious glimpse around. Her sloe-eyes landed on the misfit in the corner, and she let loose a very unladylike snort.
“Are you stuck?” she asked the obvious.
Aimee wrinkled her nose at the amusement on her face, and offered her arms up in defeat.
“Help.”
Raja waited until the door snapped shut and walked over with a smile.
“The garments need to be form-fitting in order to get the most accurate reading of your vital statistics.” She crossed behind Aimee and reached for the hemline of the garment. “Now duck your head.”
Obeying, Aimee grunted as she felt Raja tug the shirt over her head and down her back. When the dreaded task was complete, she could feel the static electricity wreaking havoc with her hair.
“Seriously, how does anyone manage that by themselves? Does everyone have an assistant to get them dressed? Or is JOH about to sprout arms and take over the deed?”
Raja chuckled and studied her. “You have lost weight.”
Aimee glanced down at the shiny navy pants and tight white shirt. “These things suck in about ten pounds of body weight. Of course I look thin.”
Taking a moment to appreciate the glitter in the material, Aimee looked up. “Don’t you ever just want to throw on something loose?”
Raja looked wistful. “This is all I know. I’ve seen old paintings of Anthum, where women wore flowing gowns sometimes, but that was a costume associated with the affluent, and my parents were simple physicians.”
Raja had never known her parents, Aimee recalled. She was taken aboard the Horus by surviving relatives when her parents’ lives were claimed by the deadly virus that besieged their planet, and later this very ship.
“They would be so proud of you,” Aimee said softly.
Raja’s pale hair slid across her shoulders as she jerked her gaze towards the windows. “I am nothing but an assistant. I have done not
hing to make anyone proud.”
“You helped to save my life. You stopped Sal—”
Aimee’s lips clamped shut. She did not want to say the name. Was he still locked away? She just did not want to know what became of the evil scientist that had nearly dissected her. Ignorance is bliss, right?
Astute eyes saw through her, though. Raja studied her thoughtfully, but held her tongue. After a measured pause she took a deep breath and asked, “Okay, Aimee Patterson. What is it that you need my help with?”
The blunt phrasing and use of her full name made Aimee smile. She decided to be equally as direct.
“I want to be a Warrior.”
Expecting laughter, maybe even shock, Aimee was startled by Raja’s measured nod.
“I’m not surprised,” Raja stated.
“You’re not? Why?”
“Well, nothing really surprises me when it comes to you. If you want something bad enough you don’t recognize obstacles or barriers. I envy you that trait.”
“You are no different than me,” Aimee countered.
“I am still an assistant.”
“Are you? You took control when the virus broke out on this ship. You did not report to anyone.”
“Most of the scientists had fallen ill,” Raja argued. “I had no choice.”
“You had fallen ill as well, and yet you refused to accept it. Without your guidance that situation could have turned into chaos.”
“Without your saliva we would all be dead.”
“Enough.” Aimee’s knees buckled and she flopped down into the closest chair. “The recollection still bothers me. Right now I have one goal, and you are absolutely right—I refuse to accept any obstacles or barriers.” She looked up plaintively. “I want him back, Raja.”
Raja’s eyes rounded. “I know you do. That is why I brought you up here. And that is why I am going to help you.”
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