Solar Heat

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Solar Heat Page 11

by Susan Kearney


  “I don’t do guesses. I have a daughter of my own. At that age, they’re all melodramatic. She might want to fly to the capital to see the newest hot hand. Or she might want buttock implants.”

  “What?”

  “They’re all the rage.”

  “Buttock implants?” How whacked was that? Every time he came dirtside, the planet’s fashions shocked him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised that slaves would find the means to make themselves the perfect bodies they’d missed out on through salt deprivation. But butt implants? Sheesh. What would the docs think of next?

  “Or she might want to make a down payment on a hovercraft.”

  Vigo forbid. “She’s not old enough for a license.”

  “Or she might want new threads. You can’t believe what a teenage girl can spend on clothes. Or these stupid hair clips tricked out with diamondites.”

  Derrek looked out the taxi’s front shield, unimpressed by the huge skyscrapers that had risen in just a few cycles. Or the many hovercraft blocking their route and adding to the pollution problem. “She sounded . . . desperate.”

  “She’s probably learned the best way to entice credit from a parent is to sound as if all life as she knows it is about to end if she doesn’t get the newest whatever it is that she wants.”

  “See if you can find out how she’d spend the credit if I send it.”

  “How?”

  “Ask one of her friends. Bribe a teacher. I don’t care. Just find out.” He snapped the link closed.

  Derrek had to give Sauren credit. He sat in the taxi beside him and had listened to the entire conversation without raising an eyebrow. Not a question did he ask. A good thing since Derrek was lost in a mental tailspin.

  Holy hell. He’d just spoken to his daughter. And she’d been a wave of trouble. A wave so deep and wide she’d swept him off-kilter. He felt as if all the emotions he’d repressed for so many years had just been yanked from his chest, then sliced, shredded, and smashed. And like a secret told and retold, he could never put them back.

  It was one thing to deal with a family that he knew through a paper trail, quite another to have to cope with them in real life. He was oh so tempted to just wire the credit. Give Tish what she’d requested. Yet, Derrek hadn’t made it to his position without learning about people. And he knew that earning credit was tied to self-respect, being given unearned credit did the reverse. If he became part of his daughter’s life, he intended his influence to be a positive one. And handing out freebies might be the wrong way to go.

  So Derrek set up the bank wire, so he could transfer the funds. But he held back.

  And oddly he didn’t worry about what his ex might think of his actions. Instead, he thought of the newly escaped slave and wondered how she would have dealt with his spoiled Tish.

  The hover cab swooshed into the Granitite District. When the first slaves had landed and seen the natural resources, they’d decided to build their capital here and had taken advantage of the gorgeous granitite to build solid structures. Because the best and brightest slaves had escaped along with artisans and craftsmen and tradespeople, the city was a testament to freedom.

  Architects and builders worked alongside electricians and stonemasons. Many of them worked harder than they ever had as slaves. But their hearts were light, and they slept at night as free men.

  But there was also a darker side. New to self-governing, the slaves had created a political system with hitches. Corruption. They had to figure it out. Because if the Ramans returned, the Zorans would need a strong leader.

  Perhaps by then, Cade would be willing to run for office. The man would make an excellent leader, and with Derrek funding the campaign, he had no doubt his brother would win. However, Derrek had to deal with the here and now. His brother was away on a second honeymoon, and Derrek had to deal with President Laurie.

  As the hover cab stopped on the steps to Laurie’s offices, a group of people hurried around the corner. For a moment, his pulse skidded and skipped as he glimpsed a man and a woman crossing the street, their backs to him. Surely that couldn’t be Azsla?

  Sweet Vigo, he was a mess. First he’d been hearing things. Now he was seeing things.

  Still . . . as he exited the hover cab and tipped the driver, he cranked his neck around to catch another look. But the woman and the man were gone.

  9

  PRESIDENT LAURIE kept Derrek cooling his jets for over an hour in the anteroom of black-and-white diamond granitite, with its domed ceiling that let in lots of sunshine and blue sky that did nothing to calm lots of impatient people. Supposedly the pres was in some high-level meeting with oil industry folk. Derrek looked at his chronometer for the tenth time in the past few micronbits. If the pres was trying to make him antsy by the delay, he was succeeding. Derrek was eyeing the guards to the “big office” where Laurie held court, wondering if he could take them out without being shot when a young aide stepped through an archway. “Derrek Archer.”

  Derrek and Sauren followed the young woman past the guards, who gave him the once-over. A second pair dressed in formal whites and ceremonial rifles stood at attention on either side of Laurie’s office. One stepped forward. “Sir. Are you carrying any weapons?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll keep them for you until after the meeting.” He held out a white-gloved hand, and Derrek would have grinned at the silly gloves if he hadn’t been annoyed.

  “Suppose I don’t want them kept for me?”

  Turn over all his weapons? He didn’t think so. He might as well walk around naked. Derrek handed over a blaster and the knife up his sleeve and glared menacingly at the guard to distract him from asking about what else he might be carrying.

  “We’ve instituted new policies. No one sees President Laurie if they are armed.”

  Beside him Sauren handed over two blades and a stunner. But following Derrek’s example, he kept the one in his boot and the tiny but deadly shooter holstered at the small of his back. Derrek glared harder at the guard. “Have there been any assassination attempts?”

  “Death threats. I’m not at liberty to say more.”

  If Laurie treated his other “friends” like he’d treated Derrek, he could see why the man needed security. Derrek despised politics and hated politicians even more. And he wanted to turn his brother into one?

  Damn it, his people deserved competent leaders, not wishy-washy presidents who had to take a poll before they made a decision. Hiding his thoughts, he smoothed annoyance off his face.

  Striding into Laurie’s office, he offered the pres his forearm. The room, built to impress with huge marble columns, hand-woven silk rugs, and master-carved furniture with cherry paneling, overshadowed Laurie, who looked haggard. “So sorry to keep you waiting.”

  Either he was a good actor, or he meant it. Derrek no longer gave a damn. Laurie had used him, then abused him. After the ritual shake and the offer of whai, which he turned down, Derrek leaned over Laurie’s desk. “Why hasn’t there been any news of our new friends? You know, the ones I plucked out of space and almost got my ass kicked over?”

  “I sent ships to watch your back.”

  “Ships that could have picked up those escapees just as easily as I did.” Derrek eased back and pounded down his tone so he wouldn’t growl. “What’s going on?”

  “I brought the slaves back here to clean them up for a big unveiling.”

  “You mean you wanted to claim the credit?”

  “That, too,” Laurie admitted. “My advisors asked me to wait until we planned exactly how to release the news. You have to understand that the political consequences and ramifications are enormous. This is the first contact we’ve had with Rama since the great escape.”

  “So?” Derrek didn’t care about Laurie’s political aspirations. Except when it came to saving his own
neck, the man was way too indecisive.

  “So once it’s common knowledge that slaves escaped and the Ramans pursued, Zorans will be building bomb shelters.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Derrek had his own hidey hole, well stocked to ride out a war.

  “If our citizens believe we are at war, they may panic and loot the grocery stores.”

  Derrek snorted his skepticism. “They’ll panic because they don’t trust you to tell them the truth.”

  “That’s debatable, and I don’t have time to argue. But consider this—if there’s panic, the economy will grind to a halt. I’ll have to divert soldiers we need to defend ourselves to keep down unrest.”

  Maybe Laurie had a point. “So the facts must be presented with care. Why haven’t you done it?”

  “Because . . .” Laurie squirmed and looked down at a message on his com link.

  “You mean you want your spin on it. I get it. What’s taking so long?”

  “These things take time. Gironell and his men needed to be briefed, then sent on long-term assignment.”

  Damn. Laurie was covering his tracks. Did he intend to keep the Rama attack secret? “You sent Gironell away so there would be no one around to contradict your story? Is that why we were disarmed at the door? You going to make me disappear next?”

  Laurie sighed. “I was hoping for cooperation.”

  “I’ve always been cooperative.” Derrek’s tone suggested that state was about to change. He’d tamped down his anger for what seemed like hours. Laurie had played him. He was still playing him. And he was no closer to finding out what was going on than before. Under normal circumstances, Derrek would have covered his annoyance and asked Cade to see what he could do. His brother was well connected. But Cade was gone. And these circumstances were far from normal. “Too bad I can’t say the same in return.” He gave Laurie time to feel the bite of his insult, then pressed, “Where are the Raman slaves I saved?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Liar. Laurie knew more than he was saying. Derrek could read it in his eyes. No fripping way was he leaving here without answers. Derrek’s anger seethed like a volcano that had built up too much pressure. If Laurie had been a smart man, he would have seen the fire in Derrek’s eyes, felt the heat radiating off him, heard the rumble of rage that started deep in his bones and blasted outward.

  “You don’t know where they are, or you won’t say?” Derrek leaped across the desk, grabbed Laurie by the throat and backed him against the wall. Not exactly a normal reaction for him. Since he’d met Azsla his emotions were over the top. He really needed to get a grip on himself.

  Two guards rushed in. When Sauren aimed the shooter he’d hidden behind his back at them, they stumbled to a halt.

  “We’re fine here.” Sweat broke out on Laurie’s forehead, but he waved the guards back and stared Derrek down. “I don’t know where they are.”

  “What happened?” Although Derrek yearned to slam his head against the wall, he forced himself to loosen his hold, then stepped back.

  Laurie rubbed his neck. “I never pegged you for a hothead.”

  “And I never pegged you for a fool. What happened?”

  The guards exited, and Sauren put away his weapon. At least Laurie had the good sense not to mention that he wasn’t supposed to be armed.

  Laurie sighed and pulled up a diagram of the building on his vidscreen. He pointed. “We had them here. In a holding area. They left.”

  Derrek crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean, they left?”

  “Apparently we failed to tell them we were waiting for the last two members of their crew to get well so they could all speak with the press.”

  “And?”

  “They came here for freedom and didn’t understand we had them under guard for their own protection.”

  “They didn’t understand because you didn’t tell them?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  He and Sauren exchanged a long glance of frustration. “And they escaped?”

  “Yes.”

  Derrek didn’t know how anyone who was so stupid had gotten to lead their people. Then again, Laurie probably hadn’t handled the slaves personally. One of his people had fripped up. But Derrek believed responsibility came from the top.

  “So what are you doing now? You’re looking for them?”

  “Yes. That was the reason for the delay. I was hoping my people would have found them by the time we met,” Laurie admitted.

  Derrek swore. Because of Laurie’s incompetent leadership, Azsla now had over an hour’s head start. The man might appeal to the masses with his paternal face and genuine warmth, but he had no business running a government. He wasn’t corrupt or a law breaker, but he did want everyone to love him.

  Still, Derrek didn’t understand how four slaves could just up and leave. They had no friends, had never set foot on this world, and had no resources. How could they just disappear?

  Now that’s insane. The damn voice in his head was back.

  He would forget about the voice. And he would forget about Azsla.

  That won’t happen.

  He said a quick good-bye to Laurie, and they collected their weapons before heading out of the building. Derrek told himself he was done with Azsla. She wasn’t his concern. He had business to—

  The voice in his head sighed. She’s more important than business.

  I told you to go away. He couldn’t fripping believe his day. Out of the vacuum, his daughter had talked to him. Then Azsla, the first woman to interest him in years, had pulled a disappearing act, and now the voice was back in his head, interrupting his own thoughts.

  There’s no need to swear.

  Why fripping not? Derrek challenged. It’s not like you’re helping out.

  A low chuckle reverberated through his skull. Not an evil chuckle, but one full of playfulness. For some reason Derrek attached a bright light to the voice. Talk about weird. He probably should be flying back to Doctor Falcon for a full psych checkup. Instead, he and Sauren headed out of the building and down the boulevard, looking for a hovercraft to flag down.

  Perhaps you need a glimpse.

  A glimpse?

  Of what might be.

  Great. Now the damn voice had gone cryptic on him. The last thing Derrek needed was another puzzle. He’d had his quota today, thank you.

  Derrek and Sauren strode along the crosswalk. And the busy city street disappeared. Whoosh. The road vanished beneath his feet as if he’d changed the vidscreen channel. Sauren was no longer with him. For that matter, all of planet Zor was gone. The mild balmy weather. The government buildings. The hovercrafts zipping along overhead. The entire sky.

  In place of Zor was a bluish-white ice tunnel. Derrek’s warm breath left his mouth and formed white, cloudy wisps, and when he took in his next gasp of air, it was cold and crisp. Staggering, he reached out to touch the blue-tinged tunnel wall that let in a limited amount of outside light. Frosty and dry, the wall’s temperature was cold enough to cause frostbite and narrow enough to make him feel slightly claustrophobic. He peered up, then down the tunnel but couldn’t see very far. It zigzagged ahead. A wall of ice behind him blocked his back.

  There appeared to be only one way out.

  Yet he didn’t move. He couldn’t. Either he had totally flipped off his axis and was truly insane . . . or he was caught in a vision. This ice cave couldn’t be real. And yet, it hadn’t come from his memories. Rama didn’t have ice tunnels. Neither did Zor or the asteroids he’d been on. No way had he been here before.

  Derrek closed his eyes, wished himself back to Zor. Offering a short prayer to Vigo, he convinced himself when he reopened his eyes he’d be back dirtside. But when he finished the prayer, he was still in the ice cave.

  His weight wa
s too light for Zor. Too heavy for Alpha One. Wherever he was, this place had gravity—but not enough for a planet. He guessed it might be a moon.

  “Derrek?” A woman called out his name, and his heart skittered like oil across a hot pan. For a moment the voice had sounded like Azsla’s. But why not? He’d been obsessed with her from the first second he’d seen her. If he was freaking out, why wouldn’t she be in his vision?

  “Derrek. I’m getting cold.”

  She didn’t sound cold. She sounded tempting and warm and very close by. Derrek glanced over his shoulder once more and checked the dead end behind him. It was still a dead end. Shrugging, he strode forward, thinking he was ready for anything. He wasn’t.

  He rounded the bend to find Azsla lying naked on top of a bed of furs. Sweet Lord, she was gorgeous, and he sucked in a breath, stopped in his tracks, all the blood in his body heading to his longo.

  Her skin was creamy pink, her breasts rising and falling with every breath, her nipples tight and budded in the icy air. His mouth went dry, and like a man with a desert-parched throat, he drank in his fill. He’d always known she was fit, but without clothes, the healthy tone of her muscles emphasized her femininity. Her sleek legs and tight stomach that nipped in her waist were perfection. If she had any flaws, he sure didn’t see them.

  This was one heck of a vision. In fact, if he was crazy, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Not bad at all.

  Never before had he had a fantasy this good. If he’d drunk or eaten anything while he’d been with Laurie, he would have suspected the man had slipped him a freak-out pill. But Derrek had taken no sustenance for hours.

  As he gazed at Azsla, he hungered for much more than food. Something more substantial. Something to fill his soul.

  Azsla held out a hand to him and grinned. “Come warm me up.”

  Derrek kneeled at the edge of the furs. One moment he’d been rational and in control of his emotions, the next, he could think of nothing besides being with her, holding her, tasting her, having her. It was as if he were a river with a huge dam holding him back until the floodgates opened. Only they hadn’t just opened, they’d burst, and he was being carried away by forces over which he had no control—no wish to control.

 

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