LINDSEY Johanna - Heart of Warrior

by Heart of Warrior (lit)

  “Your silence was appreciated,” Dalden felt the need to add, after spending several days with Martha’s constant input, wanted or not.

  “I know when not to distract, warrior,” Martha said in unmistakably smirking tones. “And now you need to gather up all remaining evidence of our presence here, before we depart for our sector of the universe.”

  “What of the mayor? Is he still under Jorran’s control?” Dalden asked.

  “He was moved safely back into his office soon after the fight began, but Corth II got to him first with the forget‑Jorran suggestions, as well as a few others. Amusing that some of the people present actually thought their mayor was pulling a publicity Stunt, since they’d been rod‑told that Jorran was the mayor already. Corth II will do a little more clean‑up in that regard later today, while we’re collecting the rest of the rods from Jorran’s people.”

  “What other evidence, then, do you speak of?”

  “Unfortunately, your entire fight was recorded by the news crews. We can’t leave these people anything that’s beyond their own technology to understand. Those here will discount what

  they’ve seen as illusion, like a disappearing act in a magic show, but any experts who could study those tapes would know better. So get rid of the tapes before I take you out of there. There are two of them, from the two shoulder‑held cameras. The big television camera you don’t need to worry about, it’s still inoperative.”

  Dalden glanced toward the newspeople, but first saw Brittany, standing behind them. She was staring at him as if he weren’t real.

  “Is my lifemate all right?” Dalden asked Martha, his concern rising.

  “She’s fine, just a bit amazed over the violence she just watched you dish out. She’ll get over it.”

  “Take her to the ship now, in case I need to get violent again in the recovery of evidence.”

  “I really don’t think you’re going to have any more trouble, kiddo. These locals are pretty much in awe of you at the moment. But you’re right, the rest of Jorran’s crew is going to disappear in seconds, and with her standing among them, she won’t be able to help but notice. Better just one nervous breakdown than a bunch of little ones.”

  “You will explain and calm her, yes?”

  “Sure I will. Don’t give it another thought. She’ll be waiting for you in your quarters.”

  Martha’s glib reply, for some reason, was not very reassuring. But the sooner he finished here, the sooner he could see to Brittany himself.

  He watched her Transfer, along with Jorran’s remaining people. Corth II and the half‑dozen warriors at the exits remained, in case they were still needed. He then turned toward the newspeople.

  Their cameras were still pointed at him. They tried to back up as he approached them, but there wasn’t much room for that. And they were still recording, even when he stopped in front of them.

  One of them, though obviously nervous, said, “Man, that s about the best special effects I’ve ever seen. Want to clean up some?”

  A cloth was tossed at him. He looked down at his torso to find

  what might need cleaning up. He hadn’t felt the cut that ran from his upper left side across his abdomen to his right hip until he saw it now. He patted the cloth along the line. It did no good. More blood immediately oozed out to flow down and soak into his jeans.

  The cameraman, however, had expected the line and blood to be gone, was staring wide‑eyed at the new flow. “That’s‑real, isn´t it.

  Dalden looked back at him, and said only, “I require the evidence you have recorded. If it can be removed from your camera and given to me, then I will not need to destroy the camera.”

  “Ah, sure, whatever you want, guy. No problem.”

  The man couldn’t get the film out of his camera and into Dalden’s hands fast enough. The other camera holder was still backing away, though not in nervousness. He was apparently looking for an exit. He had no intention of giving up his evidence.

  Corth II became a solid, immovable wall at his back. “The big guy requires your film, bud. His option was to not destroy your camera to get it. My option is to not destroy you to get it. Which of us do you wish to deal with?”

  “Okay, okay,” the man tried, stalling until he could turn around to take a swing at Corth II. Big mistake, that. He ended up with broken knuckles that hadn’t budged the face they struck, and wailed, “What the hell is that, a steel plate in your jaw?”

  “Toreno steel to be exact, and not just the jaw, but the whole body. Welcome to your worst nightmare, friend,” Corth II said as he prepared to flatten the guy.

  “Enough with the showing off, children.” Martha’s voice rang out loudly with distinct displeasure. “Must I do everything myself?”

  Not surprisingly, the heavy video camera disappeared from the man s hand, Corth II disappeared next, then Dalden and the remaining warriors followed. Martha was, after all, capable of doing almost everything herself.

  A shocked silence remained in City Hall. It was finally broken by a chuckle from the fellow who still possessed his own camera,

  minus any film. “I’d sure like to be there when you try to explain what just happened,” he told his friend. “And why you shouldn’t have to replace that camera yourself.”

  “I’m not the only one who saw things poof around here,” the other man snarled.

  “What you saw was one hell of a performance that you shouldn’t have gotten involved in. But if you’re lucky, those magic people will return your… ” There was a pause due to the camera reappearing on the floor between them. “Wanna bet the film’s not in it?”

  Chapter Twenty‑eight

  HE FOUND BRITTANY WRAPPED IN A TIGHT LITTLE BALL on the floor of his quarters aboard the Androvia, her back against the padded wall, her face tucked against her raised knees, her long copper hair spread like a cape around her. She didn’t look up when the door slid open and then closed behind him. She was

  rocking slightly, and making sounds of angst.

  Dalden felt a constriction in his chest. Her pain was not physical, it was mental, and he wasn’t sure how he could help that.

  Martha had warned him that the shock from the Transfer had put Brittany into a refusing‑to‑believe‑anything mode. Most people had warning beforehand, knew what Molecular Transfer was,

  knew it was going to happen prior to it happening. And even if they didn’t know it was going to happen, at least they could guess

  what had happened to them if they suddenly ended up in a place other than where they had been. That required knowledge of

  Transfer, which most of the known universe had, all except undiscovered planets like hers.

  “Brittany.”

  She looked up instantly, her dark green eyes wide, full of fear and confusion. But then she shot to her feet, flew at him, clung to his chest. And in a small voice that steadily grew louder, said, “I was beginning to think you weren’t real, that I’d dreamed you, too. You are real, aren’t you? Tell me you’re real!”

  “Very real, kerima.”

  “You aren’t going to disappear on me again?” she demanded sharply.

  “You will never be far from me, not ever. I would not allow it.”

  She relaxed somewhat, leaned back to stare into his eyes, as if she might find all her answers there. She found none, but she did seem to find the reassurance she’d been in need of. She stepped away from him, agitation now taking the place of her fear, though the confusion was still rampant.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “I know,” he agreed.

  “You can start by telling me how I got here, and where here is.”

  “Martha has already told you‑”

  “Don’t even think of feeding me that same line of bullshit that she did! It’s all been a dream, and I’ve just woken up from it, right? I can buy that. But how did I get here to begin with, and when? Last night? So everything that happened in City Hall today didn’t really happen,
you didn’t fight Jorran with swords, didn’t get wounded‑no, of course you didn’t. There’s no cut on your chest.

  She was staring at his chest triumphantly, thinking she’d Just managed to confirm everything she’d just said. “The cut was there, but is now gone,” he was forced to tell her. “Such is the amazing ability of a meditech, which I was Transferred into upon arrival here.”

  “Dalden, are you okay‑mentally? You don’t really believe that nonsense, do you?”

  He smiled at her concern for him. “You were told that all would be revealed to you after our task was completed. The time for answers is now.”

  “Then start telling me the truth, because this science fiction crap just doesn’t wash. And you can start with where we are.”

  “In my quarters aboard the Androvia.”

  “Aboard as in‑on a ship? Quarters without a bed or bathroom? Sure.”

  In this case, it was much easier to show her than convince her. He took her hand, pulled her over to the Sanitary wall, and pressed a button there. Walls immediately enclosed them in a small area, a toilet and sink slid out, the circular shower rose up from the floor to fill the corner, and a ledge dropped down with other amenities, including access to the dial‑up closet. He took a moment to dial a light blue tunic. It was delivered in less time than it took to don it.

  While she was staring incredulously at everything that had been revealed, he pressed the button to send it all back into concealment and dragged her over to the other corner of the room. Pressing the button there slid out new walls, and a section of the floor flipped over, leaving a narrow bed in its place that would adjust in size once someone laid down on it.

  These, too, he sent back before he said, “I feel confined here, which is why I do not leave these things out, but send them away until they are needed. I am told it is designed to make these rooms seem bigger than they are.”

  “I get it,” she said, finally looking at him again. “This is a movie studio, right? Props, make‑believe stuff that isn’t really real.”

  He sighed. He had known this would not be easy, but he hadn’t thought it would be impossible.

  “You search for any answer but the truth,” he told her.

  “Show me Proof! ” She was getting agitated again. “If this isn’t a studio made to look like a ship, show me what’s outside of it.”

  “This room has no windows.”

  “Correction.” Martha’s voice came through on the audiovisual ship’s intercom on the wall, proving she was in standby

  assistance mode. “Knowing how much you hate being reminded of what you’re traveling in, Dalden, the windows were never revealed to you.”

  The walls began to move again, in Martha’s control this time, opening up a long bank of windows made of something other than glass that revealed nothing but water and a lone fish swimming past.

  “A submarine?” Brittany said in surprise, but then she frowned and added skeptically, “Or a large tank of water. You call this proof?”

  Dalden growled in exasperation. Martha chuckled. “Give it up, kiddo. She doesn’t require proof. She already knows what she’s dealing with, she just refuses to accept it, and no amount of words will change that.”

  “Because aliens are a myth, perpetrated by the UFO craze!” Brittany shouted for Martha’s benefit, but then she rounded on Dalden and slapped her palm against his chest. “Look at you, you’re flesh and blood, you’ve got all the right parts in the right numbers, even if you are a bit big. There’s nothing alien about you!”

  “It pleases me to hear you say so,” he replied. “This name you have for off‑worlders is only slightly more tolerable than what I am usually called.”

  “He’s referring to the name barbarian,” Martha supplied. “It’s how the rest of the civilized universe views his world, not because of the way his people look, dress, or even that they still fight with swords. It’s their overall outlook, their primitive laws, their stubborn adherence to tradition that’s outlived its time.”

  “You are not helping, Martha,” Dalden said.

  “Just telling it like it is, warrior. Why go through this stonewall disbelief twice? Besides, her idea of an alien is something bizarre looking that isn’t humanoid‑another reason why she’s having trouble grasping reality here. If you looked like the Morrilians with their oversized heads that accommodate their magnificent brains, she’d have no problem pointing at you and saying you´re an alien.”

  Brittany wasn’t listening. She was gripping the hair on both sides of her temples and saying to herself, “There has to be a logical explanation for this. There has to be.”

  Dalden moved to put his arms around her. “Kerima, your distress pains me. What must I do to ease it?”

  She leaned into him, trying to accept the comfort he offered. “Just tell me there’s a really good reason for lying to me.”

  “Talk about a double‑edged request,” Martha said in one of her more distinct you’ve‑annoyed‑me tones.

  Brittany swung around, searching for Martha’s voice, since Dalden was no longer wearing his communicator. “The audiovisual monitor on the wall,” he pointed out with a sigh. “She controls the ship, thus she has eyes and ears in every room.”

  Brittany marched to the monitor on the wall, which was presently blank. “Show yourself to me. I want to see the woman who has the gall to try to convince me I’m on an alien spaceship.

  “I’ll do better than that,” Martha purred.

  Dalden stiffened, but before he could warn Martha off, Brittany was transferred out of the room. He swore, knowing where she’d been taken, and that he couldn’t get there in time to prevent Brittany from further shock.

  Chapter Twenty‑nine

  BRITTANY WAS IN SHOCK. IT HAD HAPPENED AGAIN, THAT moment of tingling, then waking in a Completely new location. Waking? No, she was standing up. Even if they’d been able to put her to sleep somehow to move her somewhere else, she wouldn’t wake up on her feet.

  It had to be illusions, or perhaps rotating walls. She’d seen enough moving walls since she got here to know they had that process down pat and in high speed, so she could be in the same room, just with new walls and‑and a really big computer console in the center.

  “This is the command center.” Martha’s voice seemed to come at her from all sides. “If I weren’t here, this room would be filled with the specialists needed to run a ship this size, all made obsolete with a Mock II on board. I’m the Mock II, by the way.”

  “What is a Mock ll?” Brittany demanded. “And where are you hiding this time?”

  “I’m currently housed in the console you’re looking at. That’s right, doll, I’m a computer, one of the most highly advanced computers ever created. Dalden let that slip the other day, but fortunately you decided he was just pulling your leg. Not an unrealistic conclusion on your part, since the computers you have on your planet are prehistoric dinosaurs compared to me, and those are all you’ve had for comparison‑until now.”

  “More bullshit?”

  “Your disbelief is wearing thin, child,” Martha said with a sigh. “I’m going to make this brief before Dalden barges in here to retrieve you. He’s not too pleased with me at the moment. You’re causing yourself, and him, a lot of grief over nothing. He did good today. He should be celebrating his victory instead of having to deal with a hysterical woman who can’t get past one simple little fact.

  “A simple fact!?”

  “Why don’t you try using the logic you were crying for a few minutes ago? It’s rather egotistical of your people to think that your insignificant planet, tucked away in this sector of the universe, is the only planet that supports life. Look at it this way: your solar system has moved into a well‑established neighborhood, sorta like the new kid on the block. But there were other systems on the block first so much older than yours that the species in them were exploring far into space while you still had dinosaurs roaming.”

  “You don’t get it. I’d have to be dre
aming for this to be real, but I’m not dreaming. I know I’m not, because I pinched myself and it damn well hurt. So stop trying to mess with my mind.”

  “We’d have to be pretty cold‑blooded to try to pull what you’re accusing us of trying to pull. Is that really how you see Dalden?”

  Of course she didn’t, which was why none of this made sense. There had to be a reason for these lies, but she couldn’t hope to guess what it was and was driving herself crazy trying to find a plausible explanation.

  “Just take me home already,” she said wearily. “My job is done. You’ve captured your thief. You don’t need me anymore. I want to go home.”

  “It’s too late for that. It became too late when Dalden made you his lifemate.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You were already told what it means. You chose to see that as a joke, too. It wasn’t. And you’re still not taking it seriously yet, but for him, it’s about as serious as you can get. You’re now his to protect, his to have and to hold, for life. There’s no getting out of it, like you people do around here. There’s no breaking it. It’s a done deal, and it’s permanent. So you go where he goes, doll, no ifs, ands, or buts. And where he’s going is home to Sha‑Ka’an, a planet in the Niva star system, light‑years away from here.”

  “You just slipped up,” Brittany said, pouncing on it, and pointing out triumphantly. “Light‑years would take more than one lifetime to travel.”

  In response, chuckling filled the room. “With anything your planet can currently produce, yes, but the rest of the universe runs on different sources of power. This spaceship is powered by gaali stones, the newest and most impressive known source, so it win only take us a couple of months to get home. But even crysillium, the last, now obsolete power source, was capable of similar speed, as well as the one before that. Your planet hasn’t come close to knowing what real power is yet.”

  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Brittany said bitterly.

  “‘Course I do, I’m a Mock II. We don’t stagnate, we grow with age.”