“Welcome,” she smiled and swept out her arm.
Hesitant, Craig passed through the portal and choked. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered.
A dome of water suspended over him, like one of those Sea World shark tanks. Churning water bubbled along the sides with their apparent descent. Four concave chairs sat in the middle of a chamber flanked by illuminated controls and hieroglyphs. Three faces stared back at him, their expressions varied. He saw Aimee first, who appeared enthused by his presence.
“Hello special agent, Buchanan,” she gushed.
“Craig,” he murmured absently.
“What is happening up there?” Zak started right in as if the circumstances were not insane at all. As if the being inside an alien vessel that was heading to the bottom of the lake was just ho-hum ordinary. As if that floating tablet with a crystal blue face that was speaking to the blond guy by the window was commonplace.
“They found out that the blood was mine,” Craig recited the details. It comforted him to drop into that routine. “I told them I had a bloody nose. Allergies from the damn weeds in your backyard.”
Aimee rested her bottom on a console that hugged the perimeter of the dome. “Ragweed. Seriously. It always killed my sinuses. Great call.”
Craig’s eyes kept drifting to the floating blue face that was now openly staring back at him. Fine, he could deal with a floating iPad, but what was with the crystallized mask that looked like the Cookie Monster? Its unnerving black eyes followed him when he moved.
“Are they looking for us?” Zak continued with urgency in his voice.
“Not with as much zeal. They have Diego. They have his brother. Alfonso explained that he shot me. I explained that his bullet went out the front door and the blood on the floor was from my nose.”
“Gayat.” Zak grinned.
He stepped forward and thrust his hand out. Craig pumped it obligingly. There was a charismatic power to the man that humbled Craig. Hadn’t Raja claimed that Zak was a warrior? Did that mean he flew around in one of these terra whatevers and attacked space aliens? The magnitude of everything was making him lightheaded. Almost immediately, Raja’s hand was on his back, supporting him. He glanced back at her and she gave him an encouraging smile.
“You didn’t get to meet before, but Craig, this is Gordeelum.” She tipped her head towards the brooding blond Nordic god staring up into the water.
“Gordy,” Aimee corrected.
Gordy turned around and crossed his arms, scowling.
“Gordeelum,” Raja threatened, “Craig saved our lives. He put his job—his welfare—his life on the line for us—for strangers. I believe that constitutes an element of trust, and your respect.”
Suspicion tightened the high cheekbones that looked similar to Raja’s. There were many similarities, Craig thought. Was this man possibly a relative and not someone who—someone who—
“Thank you,” Gordy finally spoke. He cleared his throat and leaned forward with his arm extended.
Craig accepted the handshake.
“So Aimee tells me that you like Raja.”
Damn, these people were blunt. “Well,
I—” Raja’s hand dropped off his back. Turning, he caught her eyes, and then reached for that fallen hand, reading the anxiety in her gaze.
“Yes, yes I do.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
Gordy hefted a golden eyebrow, his mouth twisted into a playful grin. “No one likes Raja.”
What the hell?
“For God’s sake, why not? She is beautiful. Intelligent. She has a quirky sense of humor that I don’t think she lets too many people witness, and she sees the world so much different than I do, and she makes me want to be better—”
Craig stopped, realizing that every rapt face in the domed chamber was glued to him. “I like her,” he added humbly.
To hell with all their inquisitive stares. He sought Raja’s eyes. Her expression was stony at first, and then a smile blossomed on her face, bringing it to light. She downright beamed after a moment.
“So there, Gordeelum,” she chided. “He likes me.”
Looking abashed, Gordy cleared his throat. “Well, don’t get me wrong. Raja is great. We would be lost without her. And yes, you are correct...she is very intelligent. I guess I can’t say anything about her looks because she’s been kind of like a mother to me.”
Raja rolled her eyes.
“Okay, more like a big sister,” Gordy hastened. “But she never speaks to people. On the Horus, we all pretty much look the same, so it’s the extroverts who usually connect. From what I’ve seen of your planet, humans are so diverse in appearance. Aimee with hair the color of the Ziratak desert, and you with your strange dark eyes. We don’t have that. We all look like me and Raja.”
“What about Zak?” Craig nodded at the tall man watching the exchange with a bemused expression.
Zak held his hands up. “Ziratak. I’m another strange person to Gordy.”
“Look,” Gordy defended. “I’m trying to say that if you like Raja, then I am okay with you. Just don’t ever hurt her.”
This man referred to Raja as a mother of-sorts. How come Craig felt like he was being interrogated by Raja’s father?
“Ehhhh-hmmm.”
Craig’s head jerked at the loud interjection. He jolted when the floating blue face whipped across two chairs to hover before him.
“Did anybody consider introducing me to the Earthling? Hmmm? Did you think that I might be interested in meeting him? Hmmmm?” The object’s voice grew progressively louder.
To his left, Craig heard Aimee sigh.
“Craig Buchanan, meet JOH.”
Craig looked down at what resembled a childlike animation recreated with shifting crystals. Black orbs grew wide atop azure chunky cheeks.
“Joe?” he asked incredulously.
“JOH.” Aimee repeated.
“Pleased to meet you, Craig Buchanan. Gordy was so gracious as to bring me along on his mission. I don’t know why it never occurred to anyone to take me travelling. My data just tingles with this influx of knowledge.”
Gordy crossed his arms and guilelessly explained, “He stowed away.”
Aimee reached over and nudged the tablet backwards. “JOH is almost the equivalent of what we call the internet. Except, as you can see, he’s—he’s—blue, and is often lacking in manners.”
JOH cleared his throat.
A computer cleared its throat?
“My apparent lack of manners stems from the lack of respect I receive.”
“Lack of respect? You’re lucky I didn’t open up the air shaft and jettison you.” Gordy winked behind the floating monitor.
“You see!”
“Not now, JOH,” Zak interrupted. “If Craig has time, I’m sure he’d love nothing more than to engorge your data banks, but right now we have important decisions to make.”
The amiable banter ceased. Even JOH’s black eyes dropped into straight lines. He literally looked like he was thinking. Uncanny, Craig thought.
“This is what I know,” Craig began. “If you were to resurface—” A hastened glance at the water outside prompted him to add, “—I mean figuratively—it would appear that you just ran away from the danger yesterday. Yes, you will be questioned about what you saw, but any other line of interrogation has unravelled. When Diego was still at large, the debate about your whereabouts for all those years was a hot topic because the theory was that you were one of Diego’s recruits.”
Frowning, Aimee inched closer to Zak who wrapped his arm around her waist.
“Now that Diego is in custody,” Craig continued, “combined with his off-handed admission that he’d never seen you before—the feds don’t really care where you were ten or fifteen years ago. You’re here now, and they have their drug felons. All is well.”
“All is well,” Aimee echoed incredulously. Staring down at her sneakers she mumbled, “I have been such a fool. I have
put everyone in jeopardy.” She looked up plaintively. “Thank God Gordy showed up. I think that we should put our tail between our legs and get back to the Horus.”
Beside him, Craig was aware of the tablet thumping up and down in the air. It drifted closer to Aimee. “You have no tail.”
“It’s a figure of speech, JOH. It means I failed and that I have to admit defeat and run back to where I can keep everyone safe.”
“No.”
Zak’s subdued declaration startled everyone.
“I came to this planet because it is your home, and I wanted to meet your parents...and I want to marry you.”
“We are bonded, Zak. We are married.”
“That is the ceremony on my planet. It’s only right that we partake in your ceremony.” Zak cupped both her shoulders. “Aimee, you ventured to Ziratak. Wasn’t that slightly more hostile than what we’ve encountered here on Earth?”
“I went to Ziratak—uninvited. If anything happened to me, it was my own damn fault. I brought you here, so if anything happens to you, it’s my own damn fault.”
In the corner, Gordy’s throat rumbled. “Women.”
“If this woman may speak,” Raja shot Gordy a sharp glare. “I think we are all entitled to make our own decisions. No one person makes them for us. My decision is to stay for a while. There is more on this planet that I want to see.” Her pointed look at Craig made his stomach clench.
“Yes,” Zak agreed. “And my decision is to stay with you,” he stared down at Aimee, “but I’m hoping that you want to remain here long enough so that we can have this honeymoon I’ve been hearing about.”
“Honeymoon?” Her head jerked up. “Where did you hear about a honeymoon?”
“From him—” Zak pointed at the floating JOH.
“What’s a honeymoon?” Gordy injected. “Do I want one? Should I stay for a honeymoon?”
A blush crept over Raja’s cheeks. Craig guessed that she must have known what a honeymoon was. If she didn’t, rashly he wanted to show her one in person.
“Well, another matter to consider—” Aimee’s voice made them jolt, “—is that I want to go over the TA with Gordy—”
“TA?” Craig asked.
“Terra angel.” Aimee waved her hand at the dome. “Gordy and I should review the power and confirm that we can make it back to the Horus. What if we all get stuck halfway there on some inhospitable planet—?”
A pensive silence descended.
“I might just be able to help with that,” JOH chirped sarcastically. “I mean, after all, I did participate in the design.”
“You worked with Wando?” Aimee arched a dubious eyebrow. “Seriously?”
The blue face cascaded into a straight line and then flourished into an amalgamated sphere again. “I offered my insight. Even if he chose not to acknowledge my presence, I can see signs of my suggestions in these controls.”
With an unladylike snort, Aimee shook her head.
“Anyway, if everyone is in agreement, and if Craig truly believes that it is safe,” she took a deep breath and plunged, “I say we stay—for a while.”
“Hooray!” JOH bounced. “Disney World. The Eiffel Tower. The Sphinx. Hollywood.”
“JOH,” Aimee hoisted him to eye level. “You are to remain on the TA.”
Crestfallen, his black eyes grew concave. “But Aimee—”
“She is right,” Zak nodded. “We have to stay—”
“Under the radar,” Aimee prompted.
“Under the radar,” Zak repeated. “We can’t chance any unwanted attention. Is the terra angel safe in the lake for the time being?”
“As best I can tell.” Gordy leaned over a console and peered out into the black water. A creature’s face appeared. A turtle. The dome was so thick that the thud of the creature’s horny head hitting the glass went undetected. “We are invisible from the exterior, but if someone or something touched us—”
“Got it.” Aimee stood up straight and jabbed a finger into Zak’s chest. “You. Me.
Chapter Sixteen
Two weeks later…
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Raja watched as Aimee smiled up at Zak. Sun eclipsed her, casting golden beams through her lustrous auburn hair. In the slim, satin white gown, she looked like one of the regal women of Anthum immortalized on the walls of the Horus.
Zak dipped his head, claiming her lips in a soft kiss.
Strangely, Raja felt her eyes moisten. Surely it was a sign of these sinus issues that Craig complained of. Dressed in a black suit and a crisp white shirt, Craig stood at her side. Raja thought him to be the most handsome man on the planet—not that she knew too many. But she was certain no one could stand as tall and as strong as this Earthen soldier. A temporary soldiery. He had already begun the resignation process from his post with the feebee. Instead, he sought to pursue his true passion—numbers. Raja could relate to that. Numbers were just another form of science.
On that night two weeks ago, Gordy and JOH had stayed behind in the TA while everyone swam to the surface. Drying out on shore, they waited for the single patrol car to leave. They showered, dressed, and after some debate, only Aimee accompanied Craig to the closest Federal Bureau office to give her statement. She was the one with the history, and she was also the only one with identification. But for so much hype, it took the clerk three tries to find a correlation between her name and any open cases. Craig worked his magic and made the transaction as smooth as promised with the disinterested agent on duty. Still remained the troubling fact that Aimee Patterson’s name would forever be an entry in the FBI transcripts.
But Aimee seemed unaffected. The ensuing two weeks were consumed with wedding plans. Aimee’s mother took them gown shopping and then out for lunch at a place called the Olive Garden, although Raja never actually located the garden. These excursions were such unusual experiences for someone who spent the majority of her time in a lab.
Raja glanced down at the dress that slid across her skin like the silky weave of a dorjan worm. It bore the same color as the blooms sprouting on the bushes found on the Patterson property. What did Aimee call them? Honeysuckle. Closing her eyes, Raja drew in the scent.
During the past two weeks she had also spent a considerable amount of time with Craig. Everything about the man intrigued her. For someone who dealt with all the unsavory individuals of his world, he was not a person who thrived on adrenaline. His adrenaline rush came from solving formulas that others might throw their hands up in the air over. In his last days with the FBI he had been pouring over Diego’s many offshore accounts, piecing together a bevy of other locations similar to the King farm that were used to distribute his opiates throughout the south. These small victories on paper brought a smile to his lips, which in turn brought a smile to hers.
The sound of music and cheerful voices broke her from her reverie. Craig dipped his head and his husky voice tickled her ear. “Do they have dancing where you come from?”
“Dancing?” She peered around at the couples shifting to the music across the sculpted backyard. There was no denying where Aimee’s father had spent his past two weeks. He had been busy building this fairy tale setting. A white wooden gazebo stood where an army of ferocious weeds had once grown. Garlands of white roses were strung from the banisters like animated ribbons. Tables covered with lacy white cloth dotted the backyard, while strung to each chair were two plump ivory balloons. It was not a large crowd. Aimee had restricted it to immediate family and close friends from the automotive plant. Raja was introduced to a woman named Carrie, who was an old school friend of Aimee’s, but Aimee said that the role of the Maid Of Honor was reserved for Raja. It was supposedly an esteemed duty, but it seemed that all she did was stand behind Aimee with a clump of flowers in her hands. The Best Man, a title that made Raja snort with laughter, was “an old friend of Zak’s.” That was Gordy’s designation. Yes, he dressed up nice in a suit, but surely the title, Best Man would go to his head.
&
nbsp; Craig extracted the clump of flowers from her hand, setting them on the closest table as he wrapped his arms around her. Perhaps dancing wasn’t so bad. If it involved his embrace, she felt that she was going to enjoy dancing. Very much.
“You know,” she responded to the sway of his long body, following his lead, “they have a sophisticated currency system on the Horus. People fled Anthum so quickly that all their assets were left behind. All we had to retain was our vocation, but other than that, everyone started on an even plane.”
“How did you create a new currency?” Craig asked with interest.
“I was very young, but from what I have learned, it took a great amount of discipline to appreciate value in something that initially possessed none. We had an ore in the storage tanks on the Horus. It was a component used in the dwellings on Anthum, and it was brought aboard with the hopes that we would settle on a planet and rebuild. But the virus that followed us kept us from colonizing, so that ore became the only thing of tangible value on the ship.”
“How did you appropriate it? According to Aimee the population on that ship numbers in the hundreds of thousands.”
“We developed a simulation ore in our manufacturing satellite. Again, the discipline was put in place to accept this simulated ore as viable currency.”
“But the truly rich on the Horus are the ones with the original,” Craig put the pieces together.
Raja beamed at his perception, but the subject was a dour one. “Power is mostly ugly.”
“Yes it is,” he agreed, drawing her in closer to his body so that now they simply swayed to the soft music piping across the yard from speakers mounted on the deck. “I left my passion of numbers because I wanted to stop the corruption that comes with power.”
“And now you don’t care about that anymore?”
“I do,” his chin brushed against her hair, “but I realize there is more I want out of life. I don’t want to be consumed by that corruption.”
“We have vaults where the ore of the individuals are held, ore that you can’t use in everyday transactions because of its sheer worth. They are seeking alternate means. I see your financial institutions and I can’t help but to think how ignorant we are. This is ironic because we are notoriously intelligent people.”
Beyond : Series Bundle (9781311505637) Page 63