Beyond : Series Bundle (9781311505637)

by Miller, Maureen A.

  Gordy’s jaw dropped.

  “One thing I have learned is that sight breeds apathy.”

  Corluss reached for the silver band around his eyes and hoisted it off his head.

  Aimee gasped.

  Corluss had irises, but they were pallid, blending with the whites of his eyes. The pupils, if there were any, were mere black specks.

  “Put these on.” He instructed Gordy.

  Hesitant, Gordy held the reflective ring up to the light.

  “Do it, Gordeelum,” Corluss ordered.

  Hauling the silver ring over his head, Gordy rested it atop his ears as it was slightly loose. “What good is this thing...I can’t see through it.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t noticed that.” Corluss deadpanned.

  Gordy tilted his head back, no doubt trying to peek through the loose gap at the bottom of the frame.

  “Keep your head straight. You don’t need to see.”

  Corluss stepped forward, his white eyes were like cue balls, shifting but not focusing. He grabbed Gordy’s hand and pressed the star laser into his palm.

  “Shoot the JOH.”

  “What?” Gordy cried. “I don’t even know where he is now.”

  “Why is that?” Corluss crossed his arms, which transformed his shoulders into beefy mountains. “Is that because you were not paying attention to him? His location was not important enough to you, so you lost track?”

  JOH blinked, but remained still beside Aimee. She considered taking a judicious step away from him, but the gun was a powerless replica. Neither of them was in any danger.

  For as tall as Gordy was, Corluss dwarfed him. Taking Gordy by the arm, Corluss pivoted him into position and then raised the point of the star laser directly at JOH. JOH wobbled slightly but held his ground in affront.

  “This is impossible,” Gordy challenged. “How can you find the JOH if you are blind?”

  “Stop talking and listen.”

  “To what? Unless JOH is speaking or moving...you can’t hear him.”

  Aimee glanced at JOH and his black eyes flicked in her direction. She swore she detected a grin on the ambiguous mouth.

  “Stop talking.” Corluss tilted Gordy’s head in the proper trajectory. “Feel the vibration.”

  “What vibra—”

  “Silence!” The top of Corluss’s head turned red. Composing himself, he continued subdued. “JOH emits a very low frequency. Extremely low. You may not notice it unless you were resting your ear on top of him, or perhaps laying your palm flat against his bottom.”

  JOH frowned and his eyes slid up behind his frame for a second before falling back into place. The dark crystals that formed his lips moved to speak, but he clamped them into a straight line as if he was holding his breath.

  “I can’t hear it,” Gordy whispered.

  There was no outburst from Corluss this time. He lowered Gordy’s arm and spoke in a low tone. “Good. There is no miracle here. Sometimes you simply have to take a—guess.”

  He clamped his hand over Gordy’s and pressed the release on the laser. A charge volleyed through the air. It was like watching a still photo of a jet stream.

  Aimee felt a breeze brush her forearm. Beside her, JOH swung his flat face to the right.

  “It went right between us,” she marveled aloud.

  Whipping the silver band from his eyes, Gordy gaped at the path between them. “Really?”

  “I felt it. Thank God it was a fake star laser or you would have burned my arm off.”

  “You always say that, Aimee,” JOH injected. “You always say Thank God, but you never tell me which of the 9023 gods that I am supposed to thank.”

  Aimee hesitated seeing that Corluss was studying her with his translucent gaze. It gave her chills, but there seemed nothing malevolent about this man. Yes, he was overbearing and indeed quite athletic...but she possessed a keen awareness of danger, and in this man she found none.

  “Aimee.”

  The sharp call nearly made her snap a salute. “Yes?”

  “Why do you want to be a Warrior?”

  Bravado fled on the wings of that simple question.

  Why?

  “Zak.” It was a strangled cry.

  She turned away, refusing to disclose her emotions to a blind man who saw all.

  “Ahh, Zak.” His voice was gentle. “A great Warrior. His skills stemmed from a strong mental discipline. He had patience and cunning, as well the physical power to back them up. I was honored to be a part of his training.”

  “You trained Zak?” She glanced back.

  “He sought me out. I am not an approved tutor as you can imagine, but Zak wanted more than his daily lessons. When most Warriors would be exhausted after a full training session, Zak wanted to keep going. Since they would not accommodate him, he came to me,” his arm swept wide, “and in this very chamber we spent hours developing his agility and prowess.”

  It was easy to imagine Zak in here now. Aimee could envision his onyx suit melding with the semblance of stars. He was so tall. A dominant figure with dark hair and golden eyes that clashed with the inhabitants of the Horus. Longing for him, she conjured up an image of his pensive visage as he paced across the marble. He would turn and spot her, and his grin would elicit that small dimple.

  "What if I asked you to stay?" His voice was rough. "What if I did something totally selfish and asked you to stay?"

  Tears burned behind her eyes at the recollection.

  “I volunteered for the mission to Ziratak,” Corluss cut into her thoughts.

  “You’re blind.”

  Perhaps it was tactless to point that out, but she was in pain.

  A quick adjustment of his spine revealed her comment had scored.

  “I could have been a passenger. I could have helped.”

  Aimee’s head cocked to the side as she considered this brawny, bald, middle-aged man with the silver halo around his head.

  “Gordy and I want to be part of this mission. We want to help.” After consideration, she nodded. “And I think you are just the man to make it happen.”

  Brooding as Corluss was, she swore his lips quirked.

  “I agree.” Gordy closed the gap and offered an enthusiastic smile. “Ziratak, here we come.” He thrust his hand out before him.

  Aimee laid her palm atop it and with a tip of her head, invited Raja to participate. After a moment’s hesitation, Raja stepped up and placed her hand atop Aimee’s.

  Clang. Clang. JOH ambled up, his black eyes big inside his blue face. “I’m in,” he announced.

  All eyes turned to Corluss who stared straight ahead like a guard at the Tower of London.

  In a hoarse tone he echoed, “Ziratak, here we come.” In a swift thrust, he extended his fist about three inches over theirs. After a second’s hesitation he uncurled that fist and dropped his hand to clamp down over their union.

  * * *

  “Zak.”

  Cool air dusted across his skin. It was the first sensation he was aware of. He dared not open his eyes. Any time he tried to, some phantom appeared to tempt him with hope. Sometimes it was family. Often he saw his father, a young, confident, and patient man. Curse the Korons to have deprived him of this man’s guidance through life.

  But, most of the time it was her. She beguiled him with her dark glossy hair and eyes the color of the horizon. All that had ever kept him going was the hope that they would be together again. He was not so far out of it to realize that the window to her solar system had come and gone. Did she hate him? Did she think he had not come for her?

  No. He did not want to open his eyes.

  “Zak. You piece of Zull dung, I know you’re awake. Open your eyes.”

  His eyes were prone to deceiving him, but his ears were sharp...and that wasn’t Aimee.

  “They fail me, so I would prefer to keep them closed.”

  There. That should dissuade the heavy-breathing ogre by his side.

  “You were attacked by a band of eight Korons
and survived. Are you really going to lay there and complain about your eyes?”

  “I was not complaining. I was stating a fact,” Zak offered mildly.

  “Fine. Wallow in your misery. I’m sure you don’t care what those blasted piles of sand and rock are up to now.”

  Zak arched his brow but kept his eyes shut. “What?”

  Silence.

  “Dammit, what?” he repeated.

  Silence.

  In a lurch, Zak swung his legs off the stone pedestal and stared down the mangy man before him.

  “What Zuttah? I am up. My eyes are open. I am looking at your ugly face and your toothless mouth which is not telling me what the Korons are doing.”

  Zuttah reached up to his bearded chin and rubbed muddy fingers over his lips. “I have teeth.” He grinned and flashed a mouthful of molars that had been ground down to half their size by his nasty habit of gnawing on rocks when he was nervous.

  It took a moment for Zak to focus on his burly friend. After a few blinks for confirmation, he was able to discern the man in tattered Zullfurs resting his rump against a nearby boulder. Mangy hair framed a leathered face with cheeks so large they reduced the yellow eyes to mere slits.

  Sun poured through the cave entrance and Zak winced at the assault.

  “They still hurt?” Zuttah’s mirth ebbed.

  “Yeah. How long was I out? When is nightfall? The night will cure them.”

  “You say that every night,” Zuttah pointed out, bending over to retrieve a round pebble and pop it into his mouth. His face scrunched up with effort as he started to grind.

  “That is disgusting.” Zak shook his head and used the cave wall for leverage as he rose on precarious legs.

  “There’s water in the jar.” Zuttah tipped his nose back into the shadows.

  Ah, the blissful relief of the dark. Zak delved into it, asking over his shoulder, “Now will you fill me in?”

  “On what? Oh yes, those hulking piles of rubble.”

  “Or, as you might call them, dessert.”

  “I do not eat rocks, Zak. I chew them. There is a big difference.” Pouting, Zuttah’s grin quickly emerged. It disappeared just as fast. “They seized ten more rebels at daybreak.”

  Blood throbbed in Zak’s temples. He pressed his fingertips against them.

  “Are the rebels still alive?” There was a threat in his voice.

  Undaunted by the tone, Zuttah spit out his rock and declared, “Last I knew, yes. But it’s just a matter of time.”

  “Gayat,” Zak cursed.

  “Anyone out in the desert trying to make it to the mountains for safety can’t get past them.”

  “I did.”

  “And you were beaten and blinded, and you see ghosts,” Zuttah pointed out.

  Ghosts. “I am not blind. My eyes just hurt.”

  Zuttah snorted. “Whatever the case may be, soon the Korons will control the entire desert and have us contained here in the mountains. And then what?”

  Ziratak was primarily a desert planet—arid and sandy. In the far north, however, lay a small mountain range that grew to high elevations with its snow-capped peaks. Two nearby suns toyed with these snow-covered vistas, melting them at will. Through fissures and streams, this condensation spilled out into the dessert in a single depression that became the Zargoll River. Though the banks of the Zargoll remained barren, they had once been inhabited and nurtured through an in intricate irrigation system.

  Zak and his family lived along the Zargoll. When the Korons came, their home was destroyed, along with all the others. The irrigation system was blasted away and the banks of the Zargoll now were occupied by Korons waiting for desert-trapped rebels to seek the sustenance of water.

  A large contingent of rebels lived safely in the mountains, which the Korons avoided due to the rain. But to reach that safe haven, any rebels left lingering in the desert were inevitably drawn to the river where the Korons lay in wait.

  “We need to gather all the men we can,” Zak stated. “We have some rebels to rescue.”

  “Zak,” Zuttah turned serious, “you need to stay here and rest.”

  “I don’t need rest.”

  Admittedly, Zak held a fatalistic view. Without the promise of seeing Aimee again, there was no desire for self-preservation. His only motivation now was to save his race.

  Death was a beast with no teeth. He did not fear death.

  Chapter Five

  Damn, the star laser was heavy.

  It was no larger than a hair brush, but she might as well grasp a steel brick. Leveling her hand with the target on the far wall, Aimee felt the tension in her forearm. She adjusted the boomerang-shaped weapon to align the tip with the symbol illustrated there.

  Peace.

  That was the supposed translation for the gold-embossed mushroom carved five feet above the floor.

  Peace.

  She was a big fan of irony.

  Alone in this training chamber, she was distracted by her reflection in the window. The view beyond was that of a system of planets bound so tightly together that they looked like someone had just broken a rack of pool balls. In that melee of colors she saw her silhouette. Long. Lean. Poised for the attack of an enemy that was not there. Instead, she was shooting at a symbol that translated to peace.

  Without Zak, her peace had been shattered.

  Aimee focused and caressed the underside of the crescent. Gone was the need to squint. That had been a physical crutch for an awkward teenager. Aimee, the woman, had clear vision. She tugged with her pointer finger, and the faux charge projected across the twenty-foot span, illuminating a baseball-sized circle several inches away from the mushroom.

  Sighing, she lowered her arm.

  A handclap from behind jerked her into a full pivot. It was a vaulted chamber capable of producing thunderous echoes, but she swore the sound emanated from directly behind her.

  Having snuck in here for a private session, there had been no need to tamper with the lighting. Instead, she relied on the natural glow of the stars through the bank of glass. Now she wished she had stopped to turn on an illumination bar or two. The stars betrayed her, leaving the recesses of the training chamber cloaked in shadows.

  Aimee stood still. She refused to call out. The weapon in her hand mocked her. It was incapable of damaging anything, and even if it were real, she had just demonstrated how bad her aim was to whoever lurked in the dark.

  A footfall sounded. To her left? To her right?

  It repeated, and she instinctively swerved the star laser towards the left...towards the deepest shadows.

  Who’s there?

  She refused to voice that plea. Although, if this ended up being Gordy playing games she was going to line him up three inches to the side of the mushroom.

  “You need to work on your aim, Aimee.”

  Her blood ran cold. The star laser trembled in her quaking hand.

  “Your enemy could be standing right in front of you, and you would not even be able to shoot him.”

  The first thing she saw was the glow of the stars against pale blonde hair, making it look blue. A suit of silver emerged from the shadows as the figure approached on a muffled tread.

  “That target was almost thirty feet away,” she argued softly. “You are only ten feet away, Salvan.”

  Light from a distant sun landed on the aquiline nose and the sinister grin.

  “A bold statement from a woman with an impotent laser.”

  Quivers of fear wormed down her legs. Could he see her shake?

  “They let you out, I gather?” She tried to sound calm. “On good behavior, was it?”

  “My value is in the lab, not a detention chamber. They came to their senses.”

  It had been five years, but the voice had not changed. A nasal whistle caused a slight lilt to the end of some words. And, the sharp arrogance still rang true.

  Aimee’s eyes flicked towards the doorway. It was the only way in and the only way out—and Salvan stood
in her path.

  He took another step forward and cocked his head to the side. Ashen hair hugged hollowed cheeks, the celestial light portraying him as a skeleton with little flesh. It was her nerves that produced the drama, though. Another glimpse and he looked remarkably the same as he did when he stood above her with a luminous rod, ready to dissect her in the name of science.

  “What do you want, Salvan? My body no longer holds any appeal to you.”

  Tepid blue eyes dipped down her chest. She could see the pale eyelashes as his gaze traveled lower. When his gaze finally returned to hers she shivered at the glacier she saw there.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” he smirked.

  To her horror he took another few steps until he stood directly before her. She would not flinch. She would not flee. Her chin hefted, depriving him the satisfaction of her fear.

  Up close, she could see his porcelain skin, nearly translucent.

  Salvan’s lips were pursed in consideration and his eyes roved over her in slow motion as she felt the revulsion build up deep in her throat.

  “You have become quite an attractive woman, Aimee.” Reaching up, he traced the backs of his fingers against her hair. When she jerked away from his touch, it amused him.

  The blatant trek of that cold scrutiny down her throat and across the swell of her breasts gave her the impulse to gag.

  “I don’t want to slice into you Aimee,” he whispered. “We have conquered our plague.”

  No thanks to you.

  “I want to touch you, though. You have always fascinated me.”

  I do not fear this man.

  “Salvan, I am done here. I suggest you step aside.”

  “And if I don’t? Are you going to call your Warrior?” Salvan leaned in close as if to share a confidence. “Oh wait—he’s dead.”

  Aimee’s finger tugged reflexively on the star laser and the innocuous beam blazed into the floor beside her foot.

  “Tsk. Tsk.” Salvan reached for her hand, sliding cold, thin fingers around it. “You better let me take that before you hurt yourself.”

  Yanking her hand from his, she nudged forward and crowded Salvan. “Step back,” she warned. “Now.”