Halcyon Nights (Star Sojourner Book 2)

by Kilczer, Jean

  Croteshit. Then why this little game? To be certain it was really me? And Lisa? Maybe deal, since he probably knew about the Humanity Award and my cash prize. Or was I getting paranoid? I pictured my mental shields, lowered them and closed my eyes as I probed.

  Lilies. An image of lilies. The woman in the coffin is white-haired, dressed in a white gown. A bouquet of gilded lilies lies across her chest.

  I opened my eyes and looked at Bjorn. He sat very still, staring at his place setting. There were hand-painted lilies on the dishes. He saw me watching and his expression hardened.

  “Elegant quarters,” I said.

  His features softened and he nodded. A shiny gold-plated 'bot rolled into the room with covered trays and set them on the table.

  “Yes, Mister Edwards.” Bjorn glanced at his watch and frowned at the 'bot. “You're four minutes late!”

  The 'bot bowed his head. “Forgive me, Master.” His voice was programmed much too high and squeaky for his bulky body. “My wheels froze and had to be oiled.”

  But Bjorn had already ignored the 'bot. “It has taken me years to collect the items you see here,” Mister Edwards. That clock, for instance, is – “

  Lisa climbed to her knees on the chair and leaned over the table to sniff the tray.

  Bjorn's eyes flickered wide.

  “Sit still, Heather!” I whispered.

  “I just wanted to see.” She slid down into the chair.

  The 'bot extended a burnished claw and lifted the tray's cover, revealing a plate of puckered sliced meat, mushrooms stuffed with something green, long vegetables, marbled pasty lumps and white grooved pulpy things. There was a pitcher of milk and one of coffee.

  “Yuck!” Lisa whispered to me as the 'bot filled her dish and poured her a glass of milk.

  Yuck indeed.

  “Heather, remember what I told you,” I cautioned. “We're guests here.” I'd eaten worse on Syl' Tyrria, and in some fashionable restaurants back on Earth.

  She lowered her head and softly kicked the table leg. ”Sliced beef tongue, Master Bjorn,” the 'bot bleated and pointed to the puckered meat.

  A smile creased Bjorn's cheeks.

  “Broiled stuffed mushrooms Pierre,” it squeaked and Bjorn's smile deepened. ”Pickled poached rhubarb, Master. Sautéed goose livers and oyster balls with chopped kelp.” The 'bot extended a delicate claw and pointed to the white pulpy stuff. “Baked lamb brains and eggs. And your personal Lafroygue.” He set a bottle of wine on the table.

  For breakfast? I thought, and wondered what he ate and drank for dinner. Bjorn's smile showed teeth. He flicked me a look, nodded to the food in a gesture that implied enjoy.

  I swallowed, nodded back as the 'bot filled my dish.

  “Daddy, I don't want – “

  “Be quiet!” I said. “Just…be quiet, Lisa. Eat the long vegetable.” How bad could pickled poached rhubarb be? Anyway, this too shall pass. I poured myself coffee. Bjorn nodded to his metal servant. It bowed from a segmented waist and rolled out noiselessly on its newly oiled wheels.

  Lisa poked her fork into the rhubarb. She pointed to the Lafroygue with her chin. “What's that pig drink, Daddy?”

  “Heather,” I warned through teeth, though I'd tried the liquor once. My connoisseur friend Jack Cole's treat. Stuff tasted like a burning peat bog. Should go well with this meal, I thought.

  Bjorn extended a poised hand toward the grandfather clock. “It's an original Ries Augusta, Mister Edwards. The pendulum is stabilized by a Potentializing Internal Transgravitational unit.”

  “Ah.” I nodded appreciatively and wondered what the hell he was talking about.

  He gestured toward the plants with his fork. “And those bonsai Brazilian wax palms are among the last of their species.”

  “Impressive,” I said. “That's why we're going to Halcyon.” I watched for his response.

  “Can I pet your bird?” Lisa hit the glass of milk with her elbow as she pointed to the bird. I heard Bjorn gasp as I made a grab for the glass. Caught it too.

  “You may not,” Bjorn said, a hand pressed over his heart. He took a long breath. His gaze lowered to meet Lisa's eyes. “The bird does not like to be touched.” He stared at nothing for a moment, then blinked his eyes to focus. “Halcyon, Mister Edwards? For the flora and faunae?”

  I rubbed Lisa's shoulder. “For the chance to work with a natural biosystem,” I lied. “I'm an astrobiologist. There's very little left on Earth for me. Or for a growing kid.”

  Bjorn looked off to one side, but his gaze strayed back to the vis and I saw the twist of a smile touch his lips.

  I wondered, as I chewed rhubarb and watched Bjorn cut his beef tongue into precise squares, then carefully chew with his mouth closed, if the vis was timed to come on with the latest news. Just what did Bjorn expect me to say or do? Pawns, after all, are limited, expendable pieces.

  I put down the fork, my stomach queasy, and peered into the obscurity of black coffee as I opened mind channels and tried for a more meaningful tel-link.

  A subliminal meandering of unconscious streams and a distinct curiosity to know… Damn! To know what? Bjorn was looking for information, but what information?

  He set down his glass and dabbed his mouth with the linen napkin, then stared at a wall painting of the white-haired woman. “I thought conceivably your interest in Halcyon might involve alien crystals.”

  “What?” I paused, the coffee cup in midair, caught completely off guard. “What sort of alien crystals?”

  He met my eyes. “The sort an I-DEA agent might be interested in, Mister Rammis.” His expression intensified. “Mega-dream crystals.”

  I sat back, not surprised he knew my real name. But Interstel Dream Enforcement Agency? Is that what he thought I was? Damn, then the dream crystals of Rocky Flats did come from Halcyon, and were somehow tied in with the silver being. And the ravager? I glanced at Lisa. She had stopped eating, intimidated by Bjorn's tone, and sat with her hands shoved in her lap, as though to make herself smaller.

  I gently rubbed her back.

  Was this ship on its way to pick up a cargo of crystals from Halcyon? A Syndicate ship? ChristLotus, I sure knew how to pick a ship! No, actually that crotemunging silver alien chose it for us.

  I shrugged, though bands of fear constricted my chest. “I'm an astrobiologist, Master Bjorn, not an undercover agent. My only interest in your ship is to get my daughter and myself to Halcyon.”

  “And your only purpose on Halcyon is to study the flora and faunae,” he said disdainfully.

  “That's right. To do science within my field and to bring up my daughter in a healthy environment. I don't know anything about crystals or Interstel agencies and I'm not interested!”

  He opened the Lafroygue, poured himself a drink and sipped it. “Environmentalists.” He mouthed the word as though it left a bitter taste. “Then tell me, Mister Rammis, just what interest an astrobiologist might have in locating the underground crystal warehouses of Lost Vegas?”

  “What are you talking about?” My heart began to thump.

  Lisa watched me. She got up quietly, picked up her stuffed bear and went to stand by the closed door. “I'm not hungry, Daddy. I'll wait here.”

  “OK, Lisa,” I managed in an even tone.

  “Daddy!” she whispered, “you forgot the game! You're supposed to call me Heather in front of Mister Born, remember?”

  I tried to smile reassuringly. “The game's over, Lisa.”

  Master Bjorn leaned forward. “My employers inquired into the Lost Vegas matter, after being informed of your hurried exit from the Flats. Their Vegas people told them the guards caught you sneaking around one of the underground entrances g to a crystal warehouse.” He lifted his gaze. “And that's the reason you fled from them. The story is all over the Flats.”

  “I've heard of the underground warehouses,” I said, and felt sweat bead on my brow. “Everyone has. But I was nowhere near them.”

  “Then you do know where they
are.”

  “I didn't say that!”

  He leaned back, crossed his legs and studied the glass as he turned it. “Unfortunately, you managed to get away, and cause the death of one of our security people in the process. My employers were not pleased by that. Now who, Mister Rammis, but an I-DEA agent, would be interested in the warehouses?” He stared at me.

  I stared back. “The Vegas people are covering their butts because they tried to rob and murder a paying customer. Me. The dons would love to hear that their Vegas front's being compromised by a threesome of greedy mega-dream guides, April Flowers and her two husbands, by name. Tell the dons for me that these three have decided to do business on their own. They tried to rob my credcount. And that's the truth and all there was to the Vegas incident.”

  He sipped his drink, but liquid shook as he set down the glass and cleared his throat. “It's an intriguing tale, but my employers have concluded that only an I-DEA agent would be willing to incur the wrath of the czar for the sake of locating the crystal mines of Halcyon.”

  Crystal mines? The source of the crystals themselves! I tried not to react. Jesus and Vishnu! Was my proposed mission from the silver being tied in with the crystal mines? After giving me that information, there was no way Bjorn was letting Lisa and me off this ship at Halcyon or anywhere else but planet earth and the dons' people!

  “I was in Vegas for a mega-dream, Master Bjorn.” I flicked a glance at Lisa, who stood, looking frightened, by the door. I smiled at her and lowered my voice. “A dream,” I told Bjorn. “Just to forget for a while that my ex-wife…” I shook my head as though I couldn't go on. “There was nothing more to it.”

  “And now,” he said, “you are off to Halcyon, of all planets, on a ship that keeps no records, to study the flora and faunae.” He lifted his glass to me in a toast, and drank. “Consider this scenario for a moment, Mister Rammis. You return to Earth as an interstellar hero for your part in the Loranth affair. I-DEA approaches you with an offer to do mankind another great service, by exposing the Dream Czar, and the source planet of the crystals so that the illegal mines can be closed down.”

  “With my daughter along? Try this scenario,” I countered, though I felt like throwing up. “Your ship was the only one bound for Halcyon.”

  “The environmentalist planet.” A chuckle jerked his shoulders.

  My mouth went dry.

  ”Perhaps that was Laurel's original intent,” he said cryptically and smoothed the ruffled tablecloth. “Where do you think the miners come from? Not the natives of Halcyon, I can assure you. That would be like herding cats. Most of them are former Laurel GreenWorlders who decided that crystals are a more lucrative source of income.” He folded his hands. “Now, Mister Rammis, if I could present my employers with some data on I-DEA which they do not already possess, such as names of undercover agents, their physical descriptions, their missions and future I-DEA actions as pertain to the crystal mines, perhaps we could discuss your final destination.” He glanced at Lisa. “And the child's.”

  “You mean Halcyon as our final destination.”

  “That depends.”

  I watched him for a few ticks of the clock, as though I were pondering the decision. Think like an I-DEA agent, I thought. A former I-DEA agent. Give the croteass something to relay to the dons in exchange for a one-way ticket down to the planet.

  “All right, Master Bjorn.” I sat back and rubbed my lips thoughtfully. “For my child's sake. All right. I'll be finished with I-DEA when I give you this information. I'm probably finished with the agency anyway after kidnapping my daughter. I haven't been in touch with Central.” I looked around as though checking that we were alone, and sipped coffee, my hand steady this time. “There's another intelligent life form on Halcyon, besides the native Kubraens and the Terran colonists. A silver being, possibly not indigenous to the planet.” I studied Bjorn for his reaction, but saw none. “NASA's probes discovered this alien and it's become the government's best kept secret. The crystal mines are small spikes compared to him.”

  Bjorn remained expressionless, the cool bastard.

  ”I-DEA is very interested in this entity,” I said.

  He lifted brows.

  “I was given the mission of first contact. I am an astrobiologist, and I-DEA wants me to study this powerful alien being.” I shrugged. “Now that I'm through with the agency for kidnapping my daughter, I'd be willing to lead you to him.” I leaned forward and smiled. “You see, I'm the only one who knows how to find him. And the only way to find him is with my tel power.”

  “And just what makes this figment of your imagination so desirable to find?”

  I sat back and smiled. “He – “A wash of sadness flowed through me. A door in my mind flew open. A sudden tel-link. The silver tag!

  He can fulfill man's desires without dream systems, and control the minds of the great masses of men.

  Can you really do that? I sent.

  No.

  Good. “He, uh, has the ability to – Why don't you just contact a telepathic agent at Interstel? I sent to the alien. They'd get rid of the czar for you, if he's the ravager you want me to kill.

  Interstel serves Interstel.

  Bjorn watched me. I locked eyes with him and took a breath. “With his tel power and his crystals, this alien has the ability to implant compelling subliminal commands in anyone on Earth, or the Interstel Force itself, through mega-dream systems.” I leaned forward and plastered an intense look on my face, hopefully of greed. “Think of the possibilities, Master Bjorn. Through him, the dons could control the minds of all the grassmoles in power, once mega-dream units are concealed in the victims' bedrooms. This alien represents one of the greatest powers in the universe!” I slammed a fist on the table. “Or one of the greatest threats.”

  Yes! the silver tag sent.

  The hair on my neck bristled. “I-DEA thought it wouldn't hurt if I checked out your ship on the way to Halcyon.” I managed a smug expression. “We don't really have to tell the dons or the czar about this alien, now do we?” I smiled crookedly. “It could be our little secret.”

  Bjorn's eyes flickered with a momentary gleam, then dulled.

  “I can play it either way, Bjorn. I'll deal with you, or with your bosses. But either way, I'm in for a cut of the profits in the crystal imports and exports.”

  Bjorn just looked amused, damn him!

  “I've already tel-linked with this alien,” I said. “I understand his psyche. He trusts me.”

  Don't overstep your bounds, the alien sent.

  “I, I can turn his loyalty from I-DEA to you, Bjorn. I'm the only one who can keep him happy and productive.”

  Would that you could.

  Stay with me! I sent. Cold sweat trickled down my hairline. I dared not wipe it, but I had played my last card. If you expect us to make it to Halcyon, I sent to the silver crote, you'd better offer some kind of help or some very good advice! I'm all out of ideas.

  “Daddy? Can we go now? I don't like Mister Born.”

  Bjorn turned to her. “Really, child? He's enamored of you.”

  “In a while, Lisa,” I said. “Be patient.” I leaned back and watched Bjorn dissect the baked brains with a fork and knife. “And the names, etcetera, of the agents, Mister Rammis?”

  “I need to keep some cards face down, to cover my… “I glanced at Lisa. “My derriere.”

  He set his glass softly on the table and stabbed an oyster ball with his knife. “The fate of your derriere is in the hands of my employers.”

  “Then I'll deal with your employers. Maybe they have the foresight to see an incredible opportunity when it's presented to them on a silver platter.” I lifted the coffee cup for a sip, realized my hand was shaking, and set the cup back down. “Then again, maybe you like this scow so much that you prefer to spend your life,” I flicked a look at the painting of the old woman, “alone with your scurvy crew and your 'bots. That's your call.”

  Bjorn played with the stiff edge of his napk
in. “Unlike you, Mister Rammis, I adhere to a policy of strict and complete loyalty to the organization that pays my salary.” He tapped his mouth with the napkin. “After the ship's scheduled deliveries and pickups, we will return to Earth and to my employers.” He brushed imaginary crumbs from around his setting and flicked them onto his empty plate. “Breakfast is over, Mister Rammis. It is time for your nap.” He folded his napkin, then his hands.

  I jumped up.

  “Daddy?”

  “Stay close to me, Lisa. Whatever happens. Just stay close!”

  “You and your spawn,” Bjorn said, “will awaken when we enter Earth orbit and the Rocky Flats spaceport.” He wiped his hands. “You should have eaten breakfast. It will be a month before lunch.” “Can we go now?” Lisa tried to open the door. “It's locked, Daddy!”

  I started for Bjorn. I'd hold the croteass as a hostage. It was a desperate move, but all I had.

  Bjorn grabbed his systems remote, pointed it at the door and clicked it before I could reach him. The door swung wide and I saw exactly what I hoped I wouldn't see. Two crew members and a 'bot behind them. One guy was red-haired, with a hatchet jaw he jutted out to look tough. The other, a bulky black tag, stood, legs apart, and stared at me.

  Dammit! Stop them, I sent to the alien tag. “Come here, Lisa!” I backed toward Bjorn as they entered. “Come here!”

  You ask that I destroy these Terrans? the alien sent. Have you considered who will fly the ship?

  “Run, Daddy!” Lisa tried to squeeze past the trio's legs at the door but the black tag picked her up, and got kicked in the knee for his trouble. She screamed and beat at his chest with small fists. He just held her lightly, though. “Master Bjorn?”