The Alien's Glimpse (Uoria Mates IV Book 5)

by Ruth Anne Scott

  Everything would change the moment that he opened the journals, rifled through the files, or read the papers. Once he delved into them, he would know what he had found and if they made any difference. The potential would be gone and he would have to face whatever it was that he found hidden away in those words, even if they meant nothing to him. Even if they meant nothing to the planet, or the war, or the people who had already suffered so much on the dusty, searing surface of Penthos had had returned for vindication.

  Maxim took one of the loose papers first, scanning his eyes over what looked like a list of names. He picked up one of the journals and opened it. He had flipped through several pages when he slammed his hand to the open page, his heartrate increasingly slightly at what he saw.

  Chapter Eight

  Rilex barely even heard the music around him as the woman gradually relaxed more and more in his arms and they danced at the edge of the others. Everything around them disappeared and he only cared about the strange but beautiful creature that he held close. Soon it seemed like some of the others were starting to drift out of the room, ready to take advantage of the time that they had left on the journey to get some rest. The woman stepped back away from him and glanced down at the floor as if she didn’t want to meet his eyes. He didn’t know if she was embarrassed by the closeness that they had discovered, or if this was something that she had been taught, a lingering reminder of the regimented, torturous life that she had led until they found her. He could only hope that it was the former. Time would make their interactions easier and more comfortable for her, but he didn’t know if she would ever be able to get over the scars that were left from what she had gone through when she was still under the control of Ryan.

  “I should go,” she said so softly Rilex almost didn’t hear her.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “People are starting to leave.”

  “So?” Rilex asked. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want to go somewhere.”

  The woman looked slightly startled.

  “Where?” she asked.

  There was nervousness in her voice that made Rilex’s stomach turn. He wondered how many times she had been told where to go, and how often it had gone horribly for her when she went along with the command. He slid his hand down along her arm until it rested against hers, again not latching on or forcing the touch any further than she wanted it.

  “You are safe with me,” he reassured her. “I might not know what will happen or what we are going to be facing when we reach Penthos, but what I can promise you is that I will do everything in my power to protect you. You will be safe when you are near me and I will never put you in a position to get hurt again. I just meant that we could go to one of the lounges if you wanted to spend some more time together. If you would rather just go to one of the bedrooms by yourself to rest…”

  “No,” the woman said, cutting him off. “I’d like to go to the lounge with you.”

  Rilex smiled and nodded. He could feel her hand close slightly around his, not quite holding it yet, but transferring more of her touch to him than before. They started out of the room, leaving behind the remnants of the party that was still going on, and headed toward the nearby lounge. As they stepped into the lounge Rilex tried to imagine what the room would have been like if they had been on one of the leisure cruises that this ship was used for. He knew that it was designed to use for any type of transportation and had been used frequently for transport of researchers and teams between planets, but there were characteristics of the ship that made it clear that its purpose was not purely academic. This room had obviously been designed for comfort and relaxation, not something that would be a priority when it came to a school, scientific, or military mission.

  As they walked further into the room to stand by the massive window that covered nearly the entire wall, Rilex imagined the happiness of those who would stand in this very position when they were on vacation, gazing out into the open space without a worry or a concern marring the view. It would be purely luxurious, the only thought in the mind of the person standing there likely being whether they should stand there for a few minutes longer or return to their room to sleep until whatever pleasures awaited them the next day. That thought made him wonder about the passenger pods and if any change would be made for those who had paid the premium price for one of the trans-galactic journeys rather than boarding the ship for work. Though they were fairly comfortable, he couldn’t imagine them being the only place for sleep for those on the trips that could last weeks at a time.

  “What are you thinking about?” the woman asked.

  Rilex chuckled in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to lose himself in the thoughts that were running through his mind and forget that he was standing there with her. He turned toward her and gestured toward the window.

  “What do you think of all this?” he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed at him.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I was thinking about what it would be like to go on a vacation, just to be so peaceful and carefree.”

  “A vacation?” the woman asked.

  Rilex realized that it wasn’t a word that she would have any reason to know.

  “It’s when people travel just for fun. They go somewhere and relax, spend time with their loved ones, see things that they don’t see when they’re at home.”

  “I can’t even imagine something like that,” she said.

  “Neither can I,” Rilex said with another soft laugh. “I never took one.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” the woman asked.

  Rilex nodded and looked at her.

  “Of course,” he said. “What would you like to know?”

  “What are you? I mean, how did you get here?”

  She seemed flustered and even embarrassed by the question, but Rilex understood. For someone who was created like a product rather than crafted out of the love two people shared, it was a completely normal and expected concept that she would wonder at the origin of others she encountered.

  “I came here by accident,” he told her. “I traveled through a portal in my home and ended up on Earth.”

  “Couldn’t you just return there?” she asked. “Didn’t you know how to?”

  “No,” he said. “It wasn’t just that I had traveled to another place. I was many, many miles, but also many, many years from the home that I knew. Though I knew that it was possible because I had been doing it my entire life, it wasn’t something that anyone here understood. I couldn’t tell anyone what had happened and had no way of reaching out for help. I was stranded. I had no choice but to just assimilate and start a new life here.”

  “You said that you went through a portal,” the woman said. “Why couldn’t you just go back through it?”

  She was asking the question in a way that told Rilex that she didn’t truly understand what he was telling her or even what she was asking, but that she was trying. He wanted to encourage her, to reassure her that she was allowed to use the new freedom of thought that being away from the facility afforded her.

  “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. The portals don’t just go from one place to another and back. I’d never used the one that I did to bring me here, and I didn’t know where it would bring me if I attempted to go back through it. There was a chance that it would bring me somewhere that I still didn’t know and didn’t know how to leave. Some of the places that the portals bring are extremely inhospitable. My only hope was that one day those from my stream would figure out what had happened to me and come for me. I settled in and started a new life here while I waited.”

  “And they never came.”

  It wasn’t a question, but a statement, an illustration of her immediate, resigned reaction to any situation. No matter what was happening, or what the possibilities that the situation held, she was quick to believe that nothing good could come out of it. She would never believe that t
here was hope, even after she was rescued. As much as he didn’t want to consider it, he knew that deep within her, she was likely still scared, still worried that at some point she would be back in Ryan’s possession and that her life would be even worse than it had already been.

  Rilex took a half-step toward her.

  “They did,” he said. “It took far longer than I expected, but they came. The son of my best friend, the man who I was trying to help when I went through the portal, ended up here with a human woman who traveled through the portals.”

  “But you didn’t go back with them,” she said.

  He shook his head.

  “No. I could have. They offered to bring me back, but I chose to stay here.”

  “Why?” the woman asked.

  “I had work that I needed to do here. It had been so long, I had made a life here. I was accustomed to it. Everything back in my own stream had changed so much, I didn’t have my same place there any longer.”

  She shook her head and turned her head to look out of the window at the blackness around them.

  “I would have gone back,” she said. “If I had a home somewhere, nothing would keep me from it.”

  “I did have a home,” Rilex said. “I had two homes. My home there, though, wasn’t the same as it had been. I wouldn’t have been able to just go back and keep going as if I had never been gone. I had a home here. Over the years I had learned to live here and had been doing important work that would ensure the home where I was born and the home I had chosen were protected and wouldn’t be destroyed.”

  “Destroyed by who?” the woman asked.

  Rilex felt a chill roll down his spine. He wished that he hadn’t said that. He didn’t want to explain any of this. It was something that he had put behind him and now that he thought there was a chance that it wasn’t fully behind him, he was terrified. Putting voice to it would only make it real, and he wasn’t ready for that. Instead, he tucked a finger beneath her chin and turned her face toward him.

  “Have you chosen a name yet?” he asked with a smile.

  She shook her head.

  “I asked you to choose one for me,” she said.

  “Why?” Rilex asked. “Don’t you want to decide what others call you?”

  “Does anyone choose their own names?” she asked.

  “No,” Rilex said, “but you aren’t just anyone.”

  “I know,” she said, “but I don’t know if the words that I would use to describe myself would be anything I would want others to call me. You choosing something for me would let me know how you see me, and how others might as well.”

  It was a bold and forward request, but one that Rilex felt honored to accept. He could feel himself drawing closer to her, something within her calling out to him at just the sight of her and the feeling of her presence near him fulfilled an ache that he had likely always had but had only just come to know. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms again. He wanted to touch her skin and feel her heartbeat. He had to be patient, to take his time and give her time and space to grow and learn to be herself within this new and strange context of life.

  “There are so many things that I could name you if I wanted to describe you,” he said. “I could call you Beautiful, or Wonderful. I could reach into my heart and my past and name you Starlight. But none of those would honor you properly. You deserve a name that is yours and yours alone.”

  “And what is that?” she asked. “What will you name me?”

  “Severine,” he said without hesitation. “It means traitor.”

  It was a word that had stayed with him after it fell so bitterly from the lips of the other hybrid on the battlefield at the University. He had meant it as a cruel and vindictive insult, but the truth was that it was the kindest thing he could have called her.

  “Severine,” she said, sampling the feeling of the name in her mouth and its sound in her ears.

  “When he called you that, he embodied you like nothing else could. You were everything that you were trained not to be; strong, courageous, powerful in your own right. To be called “Traitor” for the rest of your life will be a lasting reminder that you saved them all.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jonah put the file in his hands aside again and picked up another one. He felt like he had gone through each of these files a thousand times already, but no matter how many times he looked at them, he still didn’t understand what he was seeing. The information contained within them didn’t make sense. He remembered the examination that he had undergone prior to the mission very clearly. He knew exactly what they had gone over with him and the tests that they said that they performed, yet the information that was contained within the files didn’t correspond to what he remembered. Some of the tests and vitals that they had done weren’t accounted for, while others that they didn’t do were recorded with details that he knew hadn’t actually been taken.

  He put the file down and opened another, laying it beside the other so that he could compare them side-by-side, then opened his own and reviewed it against the others as well.

  “I just don’t understand,” he muttered to himself. “The height and weight are off. Not by much, but they’re still wrong. Why would they do that?”

  He read through the test results again.

  “I know that I didn’t have this test, but there’s results.”

  The sound of his own voice in the silence of the room was uncomfortable and he fell quiet again. It was like just hearing himself talking without the benefit of someone responding underscored the fact that he was largely on his own. As soon as that thought moved through his mind, he knew that it wasn’t accurate. Though there were others who were still in the basement with him, he knew that this journey that he was taking, the path that he was on as he tried to unravel the mystery of the files was his own. None of them knew what he had been through and wouldn’t be able to help him. He wouldn’t ask them to. They had gone through enough and were facing their own troubled and complicated journeys moving forward. They had already been forced into a war that meant nothing to them. They didn’t need another fight that wasn’t there placed at their feet.

  He ran his fingertips along the series of numbers that was supposed to be the results of a test that he remembered taking, but knew that they weren’t the results that he had gotten. Jonah sifted through the rest of the files and pulled one out. He flipped it open and read the same results from it. After a few seconds, he closed the file and turned it to check the name on the front to make sure that he had chosen the right one from the stack. He had selected it because he distinctly remembered the day after he had gone in for his examination when he sat down for lunch with Brandon and discussed their test results. This particular test had been presented to them as largely experimental. It wasn’t one that they had undergone before for any of their missions, but the doctor had told them that they needed to go through it now because of specific environmental concerns regarding the area of space where Penthos resided.

  As with nearly everything else that had to do with the department, none of them had questioned anything that the doctor had told them that they needed. As he looked back on it now, he cringed at how pliable they were, how willing they were to simply go along with whatever was said to them, whatever was expected of them, without question. It was as though they never even thought about themselves and what they were actually giving themselves over to, they were too wrapped up in the idea of what they might accomplish or who they might one day be. Now Jonah knew that he would never be that trusting or selfless. He would never be able to simply agree with what someone said without questioning what that meant for him and how it might turn out if he went along with it. Though he was happy to support and assist those who had come to mean so much to him on Uoria, he did so with caution, evaluating each step and each order before he followed it.

  Jonah reviewed the test results another time. It was as though he thought that if he looked at them
enough, he would be able to make the results change so that they better fit with what he thought that they should say. He knew that they didn’t properly record the results that he had gotten on the test, and also didn’t correspond with what Brandon told him that he had received. Though he knew that there was always a chance that Brandon had lied about his results, Jonah knew that when he looked at his own file he didn’t see the proper series of numbers. Even if his numbers did even vaguely correspond with his results, Jonah knew that there would be no reason for Brandon to lie about his own results. The true purpose of the test and what the results meant was something that was never revealed to anyone on the team. They only knew that they were undergoing a new, experimental test that would ensure that they had some undefined characteristic that ensured they would properly withstand the environment of Penthos. Since they had no understanding of what the results even meant, there would be no reason for Brandon to try to fabricate his own results.

  It was obvious to Jonah that the results were changed purposely, but why? What would be the reasoning behind putting the team through a strange experimental test, telling them their results without giving any explanation of what those results meant, and then changing the results when they recorded them in their files, especially if those files were just going to be hidden away for no one to see? He stacked the files carefully and tucked them against the wall so that they wouldn’t be disturbed and then gathered his bag and his lightstick and started back up into the abandoned medical ward again.

  This wasn’t the first time that he had entered the derelict hospital since the others left, but Jonah still didn’t know what he expected, or even hoped, to find when he explored the examination room. The glow of his lightstick filled the empty hallway and he let it fall on each of the closed doors as he went. He wondered why they had bothered to fill the rooms with the useless equipment before sealing up the hospital. Why didn’t they bring it out with them when they left the building for the last time? Or if they weren’t ever going to use it again, why didn’t they just leave it in place in its original rooms rather than taking the time and effort to divide it into the abandoned examination rooms and then close the doors, almost as though creating tombs for the remnants of the era?