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

by Patricia Renard Scholes

  "Laren!" Del's muffled voice reached her through the door.

  She flew around a corner just as the door opened behind her.

  With clothing too conspicuous for the service halls, Karra knew better than to leave by the kitchen. She opened a door leading to the main stairs and slowed her flight to a walk. No one even glanced at her.

  But her heart pounded in a red urge to hate…. and hurt. And kill.

  Chapter 28

  A'nden awoke with a start. After he left the restaurant, he had returned to the apartment, hoping Laren had simply run home, but the apartment was empty. He had even called Von, in the event Laren had sought her out. But Von had heard nothing from her. With a sense of loss in addition to his confusion, he asked if Lieutenant Motz would stand guard until she arrived. He paced, then finally sat in a chair to await her arrival.

  Motz’s knock at the door awakened him. On his lap, pages twisting, lay the book he had been unable to read. As he turned from his awkward position to see the digital, A'nden groaned. He would have been more comfortable in any other piece of furniture.

  After three hundred, he noted.

  "Commissioner A'nden?" Motz opened the door and pushed someone forward.

  "Laren!" The dress, which had been so elegant hours before, was now torn and wrinkled. Her hair straggled away from the perfectly upswept style of not long ago.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant," A’nden told his guard, hoping his expression of dismay had not shown.

  Motz nodded and left, securing the door after him.

  Furious, Del rose from his chair to confront Laren. "Where did you go?"

  "Out," she threw back with an unsteady jerk of her head.

  "I can see that." He wrinkled his nose. "You have been drinking!"

  "Brilliant!" She laughed. "You could win a prize for brilliant deductions!"

  "Quit it. Where did you go?" The words sounded like those of an angry father to his wayward daughter. He hated himself for using them, but he could not stop. A flare of jealousy jabbed at him. In addition to drinking, had she been seeing other men?

  "Walking. To cool off. I needed time to think."

  “Time? Until three hundred?”

  "Is it that late?" She peered at the digital, squinting, leaning forward until she nearly lost her balance. "Can't read it."

  "It's after three hundred," he repeated. "What have you been doing all night?"

  "Walking. And getting drunk. That’s all.”

  “All? Look at you!”

  She shrugged. “So I got in a little trouble.” She squeezed her finger and thumb almost together. “Little, bitty trouble,” she said in a baby voice.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Straightening, she stared directly at him. She almost appeared sober for a moment. “Let it go, Del,” she warned.

  “Laren, I want to know what happened.”

  “All right, freet you. Some backside thought I was too drunk to defend myself. I wasn’t.”

  “Someone attacked you? Why?”

  “How should I know? Maybe he thought I was rich, or gave freebies.” She smiled past him, eyes half closed. “Anyway, he won’t be bothering anyone for a while. I left him crawling.”

  A’nden had no idea what to say. He did not know this stranger. Unlike his lovely Laren, this woman could easily be from the Outer Area. “I don’t understand,” he said, his words sounding lame even as he uttered them.

  “What was I supposed to do, let him assault me or something?”

  “Of course not!” he said, horrified. “But tonight you sound so unlike yourself, almost a different person.”

  Karra squinted at Del. Because Laren loves you, I saved your freetin’ life by running away, and you finally notice I’m a different person?

  Del could not hear the beast laugh. But Karra gritted her teeth against its mockery.

  "How, by the seven winds, could you know what I'm like?" Her eyes lingered, staring at him in a nearly blind manner.

  All he sees is Laren, do you want him to see Karra, the beast asked sweetly, relishing in the drama. Tell him what you did to the man in the bar, tell him the details, down to the minute, show him what or who you really are…

  "I thought I knew." Del watched her in evident confusion.

  "This is me too," she said, eyes lowered. "I'm sorry. I couldn't face them, those stupid fat dogs, so secure in their fat incomes, daring to judge me for surviving in the only way I could at the time."

  But when she glanced up at Del, all she saw was another Nevian. She had to remind herself who he was and that Laren cared for him. "I'm sorry I got drunk." She should have stayed out a few more hours.

  "Laren," he whispered as he moved to stand beside her. "Will I ever understand you?" His fingers touched her cheek and drifted across her hair.

  She shook her hair, head bowed, so he could not see her face and know that she did not want him near her. She had no doubt how gently he would treat her once he knew her as Karra. Unshed tears burned her chest and twisted her stomach.

  "Promise me," he was saying, "Promise me you'll never run again."

  Karra raised her face to kiss him, to cover any promise Laren might make.

  By the time Karra crawled out of bed, Del had already left for work. Her listless hand attempted to pull a brush through loose strands of hair. She intended to print a message on that old press. She waited a bit before she realized that Laren was not going to show. It looked like she was going to have to take Laren’s place at the class she had promised Gradi she would attend this afternoon.

  Waves of nausea threatened. Karra pulled on thickweave clothing. She could always buy herself something more appropriate at Emeri's before class. As for her hair…

  She sighed at her reflection. Karra settled on a braid wound around her head, not as elegant as last night, but still Nevian enough to suit Del.

  An hour later she had managed to get to Gradi's building. She entered by the side door, not ready yet to face anyone.

  Her makeshift room pleased her. The curtain, no more than a series of old blankets, hung nearly to the floor. Gradi's supplies, stacked toward the front, made it difficult to enter the couple's apartment from the inside hall. The place only lacked the couple.

  Satisfied, she pressed the panel that released the trapdoor. You're going to work today, she told the press as she pulled on a pair of work gloves. She drew her knife to dig away some of the old residue, and took a jar of grease from her trousers pocket to lubricate its stiff joints. The message would be short, though. She had no energy for a long one.

  The job took hours. Once finished, she barely had time to buy the necessary change of clothing. But even though late, she stopped outside of Emeri’s Shop of Fine Clothing at a payvid to call the number Jem had given her, giving the location of a particular stack of leaflets.

  She changed clothes in the storeroom apartment, and left out the side, entering through the double front doors of the building as if she had just arrived. Everyone stared at her as she entered.

  “Welcome, Laren,” Gradi said. “Now that we are all here, we will begin by introducing ourselves. State your name and one sentence about yourself. For example: my name is Gradi and I am an old man.” He nodded to the woman on his left.

  She giggled self-consciously. “I’m Amadina, just a paygirl, street type, nothing special.”

  “My name is Dawn,” the next one said. “I work nights as a waitress. It pays the bills,” she added with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “Jessa,” the woman next to Dawn said. “I guess I’ll have to work like Amadina does. I just got fired because they found out I was registered.”

  The next one glanced both right and left before she spoke. “I, ah, I’m Melann. Ah, I’m doing all right, I guess.”

  “I’m a grandmother,” the woman between Melann and Karra said proudly. “My name is Meta.”

  “Laren,” Karra told them. “I guess I’ve done about everything except be a grandmother.”

  Am
adina giggled at that. Smiles also came from Melann, Jessa, and the one who had not introduced herself yet.

  “I’m Kella,” she said, the grin still on her lips. “And I think I’m gonna like this class.”

  Gradi gave Laren a slight nod. “Now think about one wish or one goal you would like to see come true. Make this personal. In other words, no goals like an end to crime. Dawn, we’ll start with you.”

  “I erren’t plannin’ nothing. As long as I can keep my job and keep my kids single file, I’ll be doin’ all right.” She glanced at Laren.

  “Jessa?” Gradi asked. “You seemed about to say something.”

  “Well, the way I see it, we’d all like to go single file, but sometimes it erren’t possible.” She also glanced at Laren.

  Karra knew why she was getting all the sideways glances. Her clothing announced she belonged to an Other, a rich one.

  “Me, I don’t care about keeping single file, just staying alive,” Amadina said, without her former giggle. She looked at Laren for support. “How about you, Laren?”

  “I’ve worked real hard at staying alive,” Karra said. “Right now I’m doing all right, but I’m always worried things will change and I’ll be back on the streets.”

  That was a lie, Karra realized. She would give practically everything to live on the streets again if it meant living with Chalatta.

  “So, are you saying, Laren,” Gradi put in, “that your goal is to keep your life going as it is?”

  It would be Laren’s goal. “Yes.”

  “And you, Amadina. What is your goal?”

  “Making it,” she told him without hesitation. “Like Laren has.”

  “Is that your goal, Amadina?” Gradi persisted. “Where do you think Laren has made it?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Her lips drew tight and thin. “I’m just tired of always scratching to keep going.”

  “Then, is your goal money?” Gradi persisted.

  “Yeah! Lots of it!”

  “What would you do to get it?”

  “Anything. Why all the stupid questions?” No one asked a person from the Area how she made her money. Gradi had stepped over an invisible line.

  If he were aware, he showed no sign. “Anything? I hear that quite a bit. How far would you go? Would you sell drusa, for example?”

  “Maybe on the Third Level,” she responded quickly, a malicious grin forming.

  There were chuckles around the table.

  But Gradi cut them short. “Is harm your goal?”

  “Only if it gets me where I want to go,” Amadina replied, her mouth a thin line. “What about you, Laren?”

  “I don’t touch drusa, not to buy and not to sell,” she replied. “But I understand wanting to bring down those who want to keep us clutched in their fists.”

  “For someone who wants things to stay the same, you sure have funny ideas,” Dawn threw at her.

  Karra felt the familiar pull of rage enticing her and heard the sickening purr of the beast.

  “You have a right to your opinions, Laren,” Gradi said. She felt a tug at his words. “What were you trying to say?”

  “I’ve said enough already,” Karra said, afraid to go further with her thoughts. The beast waited, right around the corner, for the chance to flame her into action.

  “I know what she means,” Melann volunteered, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve all been treated as less than nothing. But if she says what she thinks, especially to her Nevian, then she loses everything. If she can’t talk to us, then she has no one at all.”

  “I agree,” Jessa said. “We’ve got to support each other, not tear each other down.”

  Meta nodded her head in vigorous agreement. Even Kella, who had said very little, was slowly nodding her head.

  Karra noticed a grin of approval on the old man’s face, and frowned. She finally realized how hard it was going to be to hide from this group. They accepted her, so they thought. But if she allowed herself to speak, she could cost Laren everything, if the beast let her out of the dark box. When the beast tittered, she felt a sense of foreboding.

  Someone picked up a stack of printed pamphlets piled outside a magazine store. By late that afternoon they were all over the city. Nearly everyone had either read one or had heard about the message.

  The simple message read: WE BEGIN AGAIN. — KARRA

  As soon as she arrived home, she walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. What a marvelous food, she thought to herself, taking a long drink that emptied half the glass, grateful that now she could drink it anytime she wished. Back on the streets would not be better at all.

  But back with Chalatta would, Karra thought with a suddenness that shook her hand.

  She set the half-full glass on the counter. Be careful of your responses. If you’re to successfully play the part of Laren, you’ll need a much cooler head.

  Ice, the beast promised.

  It took all her strength to ignore the beast.

  Del stormed into the kitchen. "Have you seen these?" he demanded, holding up a leaflet.

  Startled, Karra spun around, her hand flying out in a gesture of defense, and knocked the glass to the floor. It shattered. Spilled milk ran across the tile.

  "What?" she said, heart thumping.

  "Let me read it to you. 'We begin again. Karra.' I thought we had heard the last of her, now this. What am I going to do with that maniac running loose destroying everything I have set out to accomplish?”

  Unable to respond, Karra reached for a cloth. She began to clean up the spill, cutting her finger in her nervousness.

  "It's a declaration of war against us, and I do not even know why."

  "A declaration of war?" She hoped Del would not notice her shaking hands.

  But he was too involved in his tirade. "Yes. War. She, her brother Jem, before them her parents, and the rest of the Homelander Front, have never accepted our rule." He pulled her to a standing position, facing him. "Laren, how do I reach such people?"

  “I don’t know,” Karra said. Would he ever be able to reach her people with his temper so close to the surface? Would she ever be willing to listen to a Nevian’s position without the same result? She truly did not know.

  He let go. For the first time he seemed disappointed in her. "Do you have any opinions?"

  "Yes." Karra rinsed the cloth in the sink and bent down to pick up the glass. "But they wouldn't profit you."

  "Tell me anyway."

  She finished with the spill and the broken glass before speaking. Even after she was done she had no idea what Laren would say. She ignored the beast’s amusement and sucked on the cut finger.

  "Well?"

  "I've never understood it, Del. Why did you Nevians come to this planet, anyway?"

  "Why," he said in surprise. "Were you not told in your history classes why my people came here?"

  "To save us from savagery and feudalism." But not why you insisted our own history needed to be destroyed in the process.

  Ah, yes, the beast purred. He would love to hear your opinions, Karra. Why don’t you just turn yourself in and save him the trouble of guessing.

  “And?”

  “I still don’t understand why. There isn’t enough evidence you came out of the goodness of your hearts. Sometimes all I can see are a lot of hungry, angry people.”

  "But the Outer Area is not the only part of this city. What about the largas upon multiple largas of rebuilt places, the airways, the lovely new apartments, and all the new job opportunities?"

  "Yes," she said using a quiet voice she hoped sounded like Laren’s. "Where are all these lovely apartments and wonderful jobs? I never saw any of them except from far away. Are you one of those politicians who think that if they lie long enough people will believe them? Are you one of them, Del?"

  "Then you do not believe what you read in the papers or see on the screen."

  "I believe what I see."

  "Do you believe this Karra Willo and the Homela
nder Front?"

  "As much as anything else I see or read," Karra said, fearful that an errant emotion would betrayer her to Del.

  "But she will try to incite the people to riot," he protested. "And what will I do with a riot of thousands?"

  "Listen to them." Karra suggested.

  What are you doing? the beast challenged.

  Telling the truth, she replied. Laren refuses to confront him with it, and he needs to hear if any changes are going to be worthwhile.

  Do you think it wise to antagonize the High Commissioner further? Do you want an incident with him in his well-guarded personal apartment? Is this where you want to act?

  No, but…

  Let me provide a better place for you to act. Free reign, Karra.

  But Karra knew that no matter the release of her emotions, if she followed the beast there would be no turning back. She could not shake the image of the firestorm, with Chalatta sobbing for a mother who would never return.

  Do you honestly believe you can be Laren for much longer? Act, and I will release her as well.

  Karra could not respond. She felt Laren’s desperation in the confines of the dark box where the beast had placed her. She wanted, with almost the same fervor, release for herself, but all her words would be twisted.

  I have won, the beast reminded her. You cannot be Laren. You cannot even pretend to be Laren for much longer. Very soon now I will be able to point you in any direction I choose. It is only a matter of time.

  Karra knew it to be true.

  Chapter 29

  The next morning Karra, still warm from her confrontation with the Commissioner, found herself humming one of Su’s praise songs as she cleaned the apartment. One phrase stood out:

  You never reject those who truly seek you,

  O Maker of All;

  Your child can run and slide and fall,

  But none can slip so far away

  that they fall beyond your call.

  She doubted it was true. Some people, like her, had fallen so far away that not even a Maker, should one exist, could find them, but it was a nice tune.