Her Darkest Beauty: An Alien Invasion Series - The Second Generation

by Patricia Renard Scholes

  Laren decided she liked his lips.

  As she worked that handspan in the King’s office the next four days, Karra allowed the beast to separate her persona from Laren’s. Laren possessed the patience to deal with the King’s demands. The problem was, Laren arrived home so tired, she went right to bed. Karra found that during those four days, she had scarcely existed at all. Then in Laren’s dreams, the tall Nevian in the dark blue suit seemed to watch her as though he was both surprised and interested in something about her. They spoke together easily over dinner or a drink in words Karra never remembered upon awakening.

  But Laren seemed to. Sometimes Karra caught Laren in a fantasy that had originated in a dream from the night before.

  When Laren’s in charge I don’t exist. I don’t even know what she thinks or does, she complained to the beast.

  It laughed at her. Would you rather deal with the King yourself, all by your very vocal, independent self?

  No. She didn’t want that. She just hadn’t realized the split would be so complete.

  Let me add this one thought, the beast said. All this handspan, the King has been training Laren in her job. You cannot do it. You never heard his instructions. I do not want to hear you protest again, or I will send you to work some morning completely unprepared.

  At least on my day off I can be myself, she countered.

  The beast laughed. Perhaps.

  The following handspan while walking to the Garden, this time without Marleen, she saw the Nevian again. I dreamed about you, Laren wanted to tell him, but Karra squelched the thought. This was not Laren’s day. She did find it strange that on her one day she could hear Laren’s thoughts, but not during any other time.

  Regardless, it would do no harm, she decided, to agree to Laren’s desire to pretend to be window shopping while her alternate watched the attractive Nevian. He and a couple of men in long business suits, similar to what Karra's brother Carlon wore to work, stopped at a newsstand. He bought a paper, and as he stuck it under his arm, she noticed his reflection in a gift shop window.

  As he glanced her way Karra realized Laren was in public—unescorted—a thing a lady of breeding would never do. If Jem needed Laren to present herself to this man as a lady, she had failed.

  He moved behind her. "Are you planning to go to another Vitro-Vision soon?"

  Laren spun around as though startled. "Oh! You're the one who helped me with my friend."

  He glanced around. "Is your friend well?"

  "Yes. But she planned other business for today…"

  "Not a very reliable companion," he said, evidently not pleased. The Nevian's frown softened. "I hope I am not keeping you from something important."

  Laren smiled. "Not really. Just lunch at the Garden, even if I needed to go alone."

  "Alone? Unthinkable. Allow me escort you, since I plan to dine there also. Would you mind my company?"

  "Oh." Laren lowered her lashes in indecision. To dine un-chaperoned with a casual male acquaintance was just as unthinkable as to wander around unescorted.

  "I have made a terrible blunder. Please, Mistress, forgive me?"

  She returned his helpless stare with one of her own. "I honestly don't know what to do."

  "Let me take you to lunch and we can work through this awkwardness, but you must call me Del."

  She laughed softly to hide her relief. "Yes, Del. As long as you call me Laren." As though they had just been formally introduced, she bowed to him.

  He returned it. "The Garden it is, Mistress Laren. Which floor? Do you have a preference?"

  "The fourth." Jem would already be waiting for Karra. Laren worried about his reaction to bringing her casual acquaintance to their meeting place. Her palmfilms seemed to tighten suddenly. Within minutes he could ruin everything between Laren and Del.

  They entered the restaurant, passed the Security, and took the elevator to the fourth floor, in silence. Just as expected, Jem waited, but not at the table. Looking bored, he leaned against the archway leading into the main dining room. As she and Del came nearer, he stepped away from the archway. But with a glance at Del, he winked at her and left.

  Del, signaling the hostess, never saw the man at the archway.

  The hostess led them to an alcove. The same two men who had been at the newsstand, trailed them. Coincidence?

  Del glanced at the foliage dotted with occasional blooms. "Yes, this will be fine."

  The two men were seated in the alcove across from them, just visible.

  He turned his attention back to Laren. "I had no intention of compromising you," he said. "Are you orphaned? Widowed, perhaps?" Either would explain her lack of an escort.

  "Orphaned,” she told him. The truth.

  He seemed just about ready to ask yet another question, but at that moment the restaurant turned its colored lights onto the waterfall and the fountain.

  "Oh, Del, look at the lovely fountain!" She had no desire to invent stories she would need to remember later. Hopefully Del believed she had changed the subject because it was painful.

  "Yes, a very lovely fountain. Do you come here often?"

  "When I can. Do you?"

  "Never before."

  She gave him a mischievous grin. "Then you were lying about planning to come here, weren't you?"

  "Not exactly. I planned to take my lunch wherever you did, even if you brought along your garish friend. Are you angry?" His eyes begged forgiveness.

  "I should be. Now you're going to think I let myself get picked up by strangers."

  "And you're going to believe I always invite myself to lunch with beautiful women."

  "You don't?"

  "Never before. And I refuse to ask you if you allow yourself to be picked up by strangers."

  "But I just did."

  "True. You did."

  "I simply wasn't sure what else to do. How does a woman get to know a man she finds attractive when she lacks a guardian?"

  "I see your problem. But we no longer have the problem, do we? It is solved. And I assure you, your virtue is safe."

  "So is yours," she returned, wearing an impish grin.

  He laughed.

  "Where do you usually eat lunch?"

  “The Ambry."

  "I heard it's nice." An understatement. It was an exclusive Third Level restaurant, very expensive and very private. Most Nevians could not afford the place at all. This man was no ordinary Nevian. What was a person who could afford Third Level luxury doing in the Second Level?

  "It is. But how would you have heard of it?"

  Good question. It had no name emblazoned on its front. It sent out no advertisements.

  "A friend told me about it," she said.

  Del became very quiet, as though on the verge of posing a question. She could guess what was on his mind. Although Laren had never been there, Karra had. The only human women Karra noticed dining at the Ambry were Hostesses, expensive paygirls with yellow certificates like hers. The last time he had seen her, she had been with the "garish" Marleen. What kind of friends do you have, Mistress Laren?

  "Nevian or Homelander?" he asked instead.

  "What?" She had not been prepared for that one.

  "Was it a Nevian friend, or a Homelander?" he explained.

  "Oh. I don't remember. Does it matter?"

  "I suppose not. For a moment I thought we might have mutual acquaintances."

  She breathed an inward sigh of relief. Laren, the beast hissed at her. Be careful! You do not wish him to know either your occupation or where you live.

  Karra agreed with the beast. The attractive Del did not need to know where Laren worked.

  But Del kept his eyes fixed on her in question.

  "Why are you staring at me?" she asked him.

  "Sorry. I do not mean to be rude, but I find you fascinating. I want to know everything about you. Everything. I want to make sure we dine together again, or perhaps tour an art gallery together. Anything. If I take my eyes off you, will you suddenly disa
ppear?"

  Laren laughed without accusation. "You are forgiven, and I promise I won't disappear."

  "Then, please, allow me to be your escort. We could have lunch together again. Tomorrow?"

  "I would enjoy dining with you again, Del, but I can't tomorrow."

  "Next handspan, then. Here at the Garden."

  She shook her head. Next handspan Laren needed to meet with her brother Sami. "But we could meet in the library in the pad above us the following handspan. Say around fourteen hundred?"

  "Agreed. Are you a student?"

  "No. I enjoy reading."

  "You know this level well," he said in a transparent attempt to learn more about her.

  "Fairly well," she said, telling him too little.

  For a while she was afraid Del would persist with his questions. But through the remainder of their lunch, he turned their conversation to popular literature, inspiring a lively discussion. Jem had always encouraged Karra to be knowledgeable on many subjects. Borrowing on Karra’s knowledge, Laren knew Del would not find her lacking. To her pleasure, Del himself was far from boring. She enjoyed the whole time.

  After Laren left Del, Karra considered Jem’s response. For the first time in her life, Karra regretted the possibility that a Nevian might be her next target.

  Chapter 17

  A'NTON B'SHEER, COUNSELOR, the sign on the office door read. She opened the door to face his receptionist. “There’s someone in the facility down the hall who’s in a bit of trouble. I’m not sure what it’s all about, but she asked for you.”

  The woman nodded. “Just have a seat. I’ll be with your shortly.”

  Karra sat as instructed until the woman left. The she walked to B’sheer’s office door and gave it a few light taps.

  "Enter," a voice from within said.

  "Privileged counsel, please," she said as she entered.

  He glanced up from an assortment of papers, startled. "Mistress Willo! How could you enter this building? Where’s Elonne?"

  “In the facility.” She held out her hands and pulled up her sleeves to answered his first question.

  "Palmfilms," he said, resigned.

  "Are you going to turn me in?"

  "I cannot." He regarded her sternly. "As your counselor I am required to advise you to give yourself to the authorities."

  "I know, but I don't think anyone would listen to my story without prejudice." Had she not met Del, she doubted if she could have gathered the courage to face her financial advisor. But it just occurred to her that this was another Nevian she trusted, at least with a few things.

  He shoved aside the papers in front of him and retrieved her file from a drawer to the left of his desk. "Did you kill the Administrator of Education?" By law he was required to ask.

  "Yes. Would you like the whole story?"

  "I must insist upon it. I will also insist you tell me exactly why you expect prejudice. Sector Five laws are designed to cover all citizens."

  "Some more than others, it seems." This time she left nothing out. She admitted to Barnis Ves' murder and how the pills he had left caused her reaction to Walliz. But she emphasized Walliz's difficult behavior and his threats.

  "I couldn't have given him the books and papers he wanted," she concluded. "That would have betrayed everything my father fought for."

  He inclined his head. "Although I cannot agree with your decision, I understand why you will not go to the authorities. What was your purpose in coming to see me? Surely not for advice. You knew what I would say."

  She handed him a sealed folder. "This is for my daughter in case I, ah, die."

  "Mistress Willo!"

  But she silenced him with a small shake of her head. "Please listen. I've made most of my money as a hired assassin, seldom asking who paid or why the job needed to be done. But I have found a man I like very much, and I refuse to kill him, even if my present employers ask me to."

  "Would they? Who are your employers, if I may ask?"

  She hesitated. "The Homelander Front." Her composure faltered.

  He stiffened, but otherwise showed no alarm. “Please continue.”

  "I want out.”

  She knew better than to search his face for either understanding or sympathy, but when she met his eyes, she found both. Instead of her usual restraint, she surprised herself by blurting out what she had never intended to share.

  “I realize you probably won’t believe me, but I also want out of my line of work entirely. I tried, and might have succeeded, except for the incident with Hannok Walliz. I…I’m skilled, Counselor. Had I been in my right mind I would have found a way to lie my way out of the trap he laid for me…”

  “But the Homelander Front, Mistress!” B’sheer protested.

  “Yes. Well, they promised me palmfilms, and it was the only way to see you without getting caught.”

  “A vid call…”

  “Would have gone through Mistress Elonne, your receptionist, with my legal name attached.”

  He nodded. “So that was why you left your palmfilm name only, and found a way to get her away from her desk before you walked inside.”

  “Yes.”

  “So what is it you want from me, Mistress Willo? You have skillfully managed to get past my receptionist. Am I in any danger?”

  “Not from me, Master B’sheer. You can’t rescue me from the Homelander Front any more than I can undo the murder of Hannok Walliz. One doesn’t leave the Front, at least not alive, and neither of us can restore Walliz to life.”

  “Then what may I do for you?”

  “Aside from her inheritance, my daughter may need to read the contents of that folder, if only to know who her enemies are." She placed her hands in her lap with deliberate effort. "I also need a way to get into my accounts without my legal identity. Can that be arranged?"

  He smiled. "Yes, to your last request. We can make the necessary arrangements using your palmfilms, which are not illegal in themselves, by the way. Many people use them for hidden accounts, such as the one I can set up for you. I can also see that should you meet an untimely death, all moneys, both liquid and invested, will go to your daughter as planned."

  She nodded, relieved.

  "For your information, your investments have grown, probably more substantially than you realize. Do you recall that during our last meeting I wished to go over your accounts with you?"

  "I was late for school." She had said as much then too.

  “Yes, the Public Academy. Unnecessary, in your case. Redundant, I should say. Let me explain your investments this way: should you wish to further your education, you would do well to major in law, finance or political science, during which you and your daughter could live quite comfortably in a Third Level apartment."

  "Third Level? I had no idea…"

  He waved her silent. "May I add something?"

  "Of course."

  "From the first day you came into my office, stating your profession was prostitution—were you only fifteen then?—I noted a quality in you uncommon in most people, Nevian or human. I suppose I would call it an unusual determination to succeed. I cannot pretend I am not shocked by your admission of the source of your income, but your desire to leave it is noteworthy. I don't usually do this, but I may be able to help you leave the Homelander Front."

  "All I have to do is turn everyone in. Right?" She gave him a rueful smile. "No. Thank you, Counselor B'sheer. I appreciate your concern, but I can't allow that."

  "You must get your daughter out of the Area," he told her, being more blunt than he had ever been with her before.

  "I know." She felt exhausted. "I know. But I can't betray certain people either. If you can find another solution, please tell me. I think I need all the help I can get."

  May your way through this be illuminated by the Path, B'sheer told her in silent mind speech.

  She blinked at the unexpected frisson, aware that she had heard him, and realized she was in the presence of Talent. A shiver of fear ran down
her back.

  During the following handspans, Jem confused her by being noncommittal about her relationship with Del. He seemed pleased, but acted as if her work at the King's Palace was more important. At least he had not forbidden Laren to see Del. She decided to schedule future time with Laren's Nevian away from both Jem and the Garden, afterwards at the library.

  Today Jem questioned her at length about the Palace, particularly regarding specific clients. He showed her pictures, insisting she memorize certain facts about them. It was taking too long. Laren squirmed with impatience fearing Del would be gone before she could reach the library.

  "How are you and your lolliboy getting along?" he asked suddenly as if he sensed the reason for her impatience.

  "Fine," Karra said, recovering poorly. "But he's not my lolliboy." Afraid he would cancel future meetings, she refused to tell Jem that two men always accompanied Del. Their presence was not coincidental—Del had bodyguards.

  "He doesn't know about your work at the Palace, does he?"

  "No." She also refused to tell him that her invented personality found the Nevian attractive, becoming more and more assertive regarding the Nevian. Karra found Laren's desires threatening, much to the beast’s delight, unfortunately.

  "Good."

  No further comment? Karra almost shook her head in confusion.

  A few minutes later he left.

  It was all the opening Laren needed. Laren shoved Karra aside as she rushed to the library. Her relief in finding Del still there turned to alarm when she saw him speaking to someone in an aircar parked in front of the building.

  "Laren!"

  "Sorry I'm late."

  “I would have waited for you for hours.” He kissed her cheek. Lately the Nevian had begun to slip from his role as mere escort. “Do you have a restaurant in mind?”

  "No. Do you?"

  "Yes. On the Third Level is a quaint Homelander style restaurant I think you will enjoy. Berti will fly us."

  Berti will? Karra recognized Berti as one of the men who always followed him. Shocked out of her role as Laren, Karra stared at the aircar, then back at Del who smiled at her expectantly. Even wealthy Nevians, as a rule, traveled through the airway system.