Beyond : Series Bundle (9781311505637)

by Miller, Maureen A.

  Overwhelmed by Raja’s sincerity and the anxiety of Zak’s disappearance, Aimee dipped her face into her open hands. She did not weep. She would not weep in front of Raja. Both women fought public displays of vulnerability. It was an unwritten rule, and a sign of mutual respect.

  There were many similarities between Raja and herself. They both were quiet. It was not shyness per se, but rather that they were always thinking, always contemplating. Physically, they had similarities in age and stature. Both women were slim and tall. Their only contradiction came in hair color. Raja possessed beautiful, gleaming blonde tresses and Aimee was crowned with shiny auburn locks. The styles were similar, worn long—well below their shoulders. Aimee was going to have to introduce Raja to the concept of a ponytail. They both had blue eyes, but the shades differed. Raja possessed orbs the color of a Caribbean sky, while Aimee’s bore the dark hue of the ocean depths.

  “There is one other who seeks Warrior training,” Raja mentioned. “Like you, he is not qualified to be in the program. Most Warriors are descendants of Warriors. Genetically they are the best gifted for the program.”

  “Genetics,” Aimee snorted with her face still down. “It’s all about genetics around here. “Zak was not the son of a Warrior, but I guess his genetics were too hard to pass up.”

  An image of his muscular shoulders and the recollection of the rugged band of muscles across his abdomen validated her comment.

  “I agree. Those stereotypes did not exist on Anthum, I am told. They were born by discrimination on the tight quarters of the Horus.”

  “Tight quarters! This ship is the size of New York City.”

  Raja smiled. “I know what New York City is. I asked JOH. And, as big as it may be, it is still a spec on a planet.”

  Peeking out of her bangs, Aimee managed a slight grin. “Well, when you use that perspective—” She sat back up. “Who is this other one that seeks Warrior training?”

  Instead of glancing at a watch or a clock on the wall—neither of which existed on this ship—Raja stared through the huge plate of glass as if the alignment of the stars could give her a perspective on time.

  “Hurry,” she encouraged. “I need to get you both to Corluss.”

  “Corluss?” Aimee hastened after her. “Is that a person or a planet?”

  * * *

  Whipping along the exterior wall of the Horus in a linear transport, Aimee glanced down at her wrist. A silver-faced watch still hugged it, but the device had stopped ticking the moment she arrived aboard the Horus. Even after changing into the new clothes she had neglected to remove the timepiece. Glancing at it now she was reminded that she departed Earth at 12:26pm.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, glancing through the wall-length pane of glass. “There isn’t much ship left?”

  Raja tapped her fingers on the closed door as the chamber gradually decreased in speed. “You haven’t been to our training center. It’s huge. It spans multiple levels. Some levels require special access only permitted to the highest-ranking Warriors. Even watchers are trained back here.”

  As the doors to the transport slid open, Aimee’s eyes widened with marvel. A two-story grand arc of beveled stone marked the entrance to an amphitheater. This vestibule looked gothic, like something you might find on the campus of Oxford University. As she passed beneath it, she marveled at the texture of the chiseled rocks, scarred with veins of blue and green.

  The sound of men in combat drew her attention. On a stage at the center of the arena, two men in silver lustrous suits exacted moves akin to karate. Their prowess in such a tight space was well choreographed. This was not a fight. This was an exercise in training—a flamboyant dance of skills. Involuntarily, Aimee was drawn closer to better study their synchronized moves, but a hand tugged on her arm.

  “No.” Raja cautioned in a hushed whisper. “It is better to not draw attention. You do not belong here, remember? Your training is to remain clandestine.”

  Aimee joined Raja in the shadows, hugging the back wall of the amphitheater as they passed by rows of empty seats. In the corner of her eye she continued to watch the men in combat. It was a form of art, a ballet of strength and finesse. She could easily imagine Zak overpowering anyone who ventured into that ring.

  Wherever you are, Zak, if anyone dares to touch you...fight them. Fight them and stay safe.

  “This way.”

  Raja’s call startled Aimee as she hurried to catch up. Ahead, the fair-haired woman slipped into a doorway. They were now ensconced in a narrow corridor, walking single-file to the sound of their heels snapping against marble. Aimee drew in a deep breath and searched the stark white walls, relieved to see the outlines of shadowed chambers behind them. She had not lost her touch.

  “Where—”

  Raja’s hand flipped up to curtail her. She turned to face Aimee in the tight confines. Fine lines about her eyes and lips hinted at her stress. “Listen to me,” she whispered with urgency. “This is serious. You are not a Warrior. You are the furthest thing imaginable from it.”

  Aimee frowned.

  “Aside from not being bred into it,” Raja explained, “you are a female. Neither of us is permitted back here. I may be able to get away with it if I’m caught by claiming that I was beckoned for medical services, but you—”

  “Why can’t a woman be a Warrior?”

  Raja sighed, although the hint of a smile lingered. “That is all you could take away from my warning?”

  Aimee’s forehead wrinkled. “Yes. I find it absurd that there is a sector of the ship where women aren’t allowed. How archaic.”

  “Trust me, they find the fact that you are not a Warrior more offensive than your gender. This is a tight society, and their camaraderie is justified. These men exist to protect us. Who are we to tamper with that?”

  “But,” The concept still irked her, “Zak was not like this. He did not possess such arrogance. He did not portray himself as being from a select caste.” It still pained her to utter his name.

  In respect to that distress, Raja cast her glance down and nodded. “I think we’ve established that Zak is different.”

  Tears pressed against the back of Aimee’s eyes. “Yes. That we did.”

  “Come on,” Raja urged. “Let’s get inside and then we can talk freely.”

  Raja tugged Aimee into the dark as the door slipped shut behind them. It took a moment to acclimate. In the distance was a faint glow. They shuffled through the shadows until that light expanded into an open arena as spacious as a basketball court. One wall was made of glass, and through it a majestic vista of the cosmos provided a formidable backdrop for the solitary figure in silver.

  In her periphery, Aimee caught Raja holding her finger up to her lips to indicate silence. Together, they watched the man raise a weapon—a laser of sorts—and aim it at a JOH standing on its two metal legs, its blue face nonplussed by the task.

  “He’s going to shoot a JOH?” Aimee whispered incredulously.

  “Shhh. It is a mock star laser used for training.”

  As he assumed a practiced stance, even from this distance Aimee could tell the young man was lean and sinewy beneath his snug silver suit. His pale hair was cropped short, in military style. He looked every part the Warrior as he leveled his star laser and prepared to fire.

  After a slight jerk of his wrist, the diaphanous wave shot from the gun and drove a hole in the pliable wall five feet adjacent to JOH. The black crystals that made up JOH’s mouth emitted a sigh, and the young man let loose a curse, holding the weapon up to his face as if it was the culprit for his poor aim.

  “You try too hard, Gordeelum,” Raja admonished.

  “Gordy?” Aimee cried out.

  Flinching, he turned. At that moment she caught the resemblance in his maturing face. When last she had seen Gordy he was a boy giggling with a playful JOH. Now, a tall young man in his late teens approached her, his keen blue eyes probing her face as intently as she searched his.

  “
Aimee?”

  Where was the young voice? This was the deep timbre of a man.

  To hell with it. She launched her arms around his shoulders. “Gordy, it’s so good to see you!”

  His frame remained rigid until she heard him chuckle, and a ghost of the boy returned. “I wish you didn’t have to see that. I really am getting better.”

  As he stepped back there was a blush across his prominent cheekbones.

  Five years might have passed, and Gordy was not a child anymore, but the childhood defenses still beat strong.

  “Well heck, if I tried to fire that thing I’d probably shoot my foot off.” She laughed.

  Gordy shook his head, torn between frustration at his wayward shot and enthusiasm at seeing her. “I doubt that.”

  Still marveling at how Gordy had matured, she realized that his smile had dropped.

  “You came back for him.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Aimee’s throat constricted. “Yes.”

  A discreet glance passed between Raja and Gordy. Aimee caught the collusion there.

  “What?” she snapped. “What was that look? Stop regarding this as a lost cause. I refuse to believe that.”

  Distracting herself with the vista of space, Aimee played connect-the-dots with a string of planets outside. One of them could be Ziratak for all she knew. Later she would check with JOH to learn more about the planet’s attributes.

  “My look wasn’t what you think, Aimee,” Raja cautioned. She glanced at Gordy and sighed. “Gordeelum, meet your new training partner.”

  Gordy’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s impossible. She can’t be a Warrior.”

  Crossing her arms, Raja cocked an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

  “She’s—she’s—” he stammered, “—a girl.”

  Aimee felt both sets of eyes converge on her.

  “Ummm, I’m almost twenty-seven now. Hardly a girl anymore.”

  “Twenty-seven what?” Gordy frowned and then nodded. “Oh, of your planet’s rotations? Yeah, well, I’m not quite sure what that means, but the point is that only men are Warriors.”

  Calculating, Aimee quickly volleyed, “Raja, you said that I was joining one other who was not qualified to be a Warrior. I gather I am not qualified due to my gender.” Her eyes narrowed on Gordy. “But, if this is the other who is engaging in illicit training, what is his disqualification?”

  The furrow of agitation across the bridge of Gordy’s nose revealed his adolescence.

  “Age,” Raja explained. “Heredity.”

  “Bah,” Aimee dismissed both ranks. “Technicalities.”

  “Exactly,” Gordy agreed. Dispirited, he glanced down at the star laser in his hand. “Okay, so neither of us is qualified to be Warriors, but the ones that are qualified aren’t doing their jobs.”

  “What do you mean?” Aimee came alert.

  “I mean that they aren’t out there trying to find Zak,” he condemned. “Zak was our hero. Without him, the Horus is just—vulnerable.”

  Cursed tears. They were undermining her again. She cleared her throat. “So it’s you and me? We are Zak’s rescue team?”

  Raja tipped her head back and made a silent plea to the lofted ceiling. “Don’t be so critical of our Warriors.” Though she was defending them, her tone lacked conviction. “They tried. And, in the end, they had to obey Vodu’s orders. Do you really think Vodu would not have exhausted every effort to retrieve Zak?”

  “No.” Gordy evaded her eyes.

  “No.” Aimee echoed.

  “Good.” Raja nodded. “If you choose to train for this mission, you are doing so without Vodu’s consent. You are doing this irrespective of the Warriors that will be returning to Ziratak. You do this out of—”

  Love.

  “Respect and frustration,” Raja continued. “You do this at your own risk, acknowledging that you will never ever reach the caliber of our highly skilled Warriors.”

  In Gordy’s expression Aimee saw her own belligerence reflected. Before either could protest, Raja hastened on.

  “You are sworn to secrecy to never share the names of those who have assisted you.”

  Compelled to raise her hand and pledge her allegiance, Aimee instead asked, “Raja, are you going to get in trouble for this?”

  “Not if you never saw me here,” Raja winked. Sobering, she added, “Listen to me.” Her eyes narrowed. “I mean really listen to me. Gordy, you are too young. And Aimee, as much as you think you can conquer anything, you are simply not strong enough for a hand-to—umm, if you had to engage in a personal battle.”

  “But I took on those tree creatures on Bordran.”

  “No.” Raja was adamant. “You did not. You used cunning perhaps, but you did not take them on.” She eased up slightly. “As biased as they may sound, there is a reason the Warriors are such an elite crew. Only the strongest and most-skilled will survive. What good does it do to send in a fleet of Warriors and have half of them die from frailty and ineptitude?”

  Gordy let loose a curse and Raja scowled. “Do you have something to say, Gordeelum?”

  He tapped the tip of his boot on the marble floor and then stood erect, looking her in the eye. “Yes. I am not frail. My youth will be my asset. I have more stamina than some of the elder Warriors.”

  “And if a Koron was standing ten feet in front of you, would you be as accurate with the star laser as you just were?”

  Opening his mouth to retort, Raja didn’t allow him the chance. “No, because you would already be dead if a Koron was standing ten feet in front of you. Or blind.”

  Trumped, the young man remained mute.

  “And you,” Raja rounded on Aimee. “If you found Zak, and he was injured...would your judgment be clouded?” Disallowing a response, she inserted, “Of course it would. But a Warrior’s judgment cannot be.”

  Pain curled up into a fist behind Aimee’s ribcage. It must have been evident on her face because Raja’s expression softened. “I was harsh. But I pack the punch of a sumpum compared to the man you are about to meet. You want to train to be Warriors? Then you shelve your emotions. Anger. Depression. They are all weaknesses. I am only trying to prepare you or offer you a chance to reconsider.”

  Aimee felt Gordy’s eyes on her. They were two misfits resolved to their fates.

  JOH’s metal toes clanged against the floor. “He is coming.” The black crystal orbs shifted towards the doorway.

  Who?

  Aimee held her breath in anticipation.

  Chapter Four

  A whisper like the breeze over autumn leaves in the neighbor’s cornfield alerted that a portal had opened. Heavy footsteps fell as a formidable figure emerged from the shadows. It was a man. Tall. Middle-aged. Although age was hard to estimate with the clean-shaven head and mirrored glasses that wrapped completely about his blushed skull. With the lack of hair, Aimee could discern muscles flex across his cranium. The man’s build was athletic inside his dark blue uniform made of the same fabric as her pants. A squared, clean-shaven jaw wrapped around a mouth set in a grim line.

  He stepped up alongside Raja and asked in a hoarse tone, “Did he hit the JOH?”

  “No.” Raja folded her hands across her abdomen. “But he was very close.”

  A snort sounded from the man’s flat nose. “You lie as bad as he shoots.”

  Aimee could not see the eyes behind the reflective shield, but she could tell that she was the subject of his next question.

  “And the other one?”

  “Aimee,” Raja offered. “She has yet to try.”

  “She,” he muttered and shook his head. “What will you bring me next, a swallor droid?”

  Clang. Clang. Clang. “Swallor droids are only good for menial maintenance duties,” JOH stated with obvious disdain. “Namely, latrine services.”

  Swallor droids were janitors, Aimee concluded, distracted by the stark man. He extended his hand towards Gordy and curled his fingers in demand. Obligingly, Gordy surrend
ered the star laser.

  In an unexpected move, the bald man swung his arm and blasted the ray in JOH’s direction, suspending the computer by the tips of its metal toes for a second before releasing the trigger.

  JOH’s black eyes bulged and then righted themselves. “Was that necessary?” he asked in a droll voice. “Could you not locate a swallor droid for your games?”

  “It’s more fun to aggravate you.” The man nearly smirked.

  “Aimee, this is Corluss.”

  Aimee held out her hand, startled when Corluss held out his...about six inches in the wrong direction. There was an awkward pause in which she maneuvered to clasp his firm shake.

  “Corluss was blinded by a fleet of Koron solar rays,” Raja explained.

  Beside her, Gordy frowned and stated the obvious. “And he is going to train us?”

  Raja sighed. “Corluss, this is Gordeelum.”

  Corluss thrust his hand out in Gordy’s general vicinity. The young man glanced at Aimee and then Raja, and finally down at the sinewy hand, which he shook with indecision.

  “Who hit the JOH?” Corluss challenged.

  “Who hit the JOH?” JOH mimicked, his crystal lips flapping in exasperation.

  He was ignored.

  Gordy’s cheeks began to burn. “I was distracted. I heard the door opening.”

  “What about the last eight tries—”

  “Quiet!” Gordy cut JOH off.

  “Corluss was a famous Warrior who protected us during the Koron invasion.” Raja explained to Aimee. “The Koron invasion was a concentrated attack of several hundred of their fleet. It took all the armada we had to fight them off. We lost many men in that coup, but thanks to Corluss and other brave Warriors like him, so did the Korons. And Korons do not reproduce easily.”

  “Thank you for the accolades, Raja,” Corluss said, “but these two have no idea what the Koron invasion was like, and they just think I’m an old, blind man.”

  Gordy nodded, knowing full well the man could not see the gesture.

  “I feel air rhythms, Gordeelum. I can feel the pattern that indicates you are shaking your head in agreement.”