Eomix Galaxy Books: Identity (Book 2 of 2)

by Yelich-Koth,Christa

  “Okay. I agree to your terms.”

  “How exciting!” Nuis said. “I can’t wait. In fact, I won’t. We’ll set up now and play after dinner.”

  Torrak followed Nuis out of the office, through the room filled with pillows, down a short hallway, and into a lavishly furnished dining room. Mounds of food spread across an intricately carved stone table, decorated with cream and silver scarves. Most everyone had already sat down, although Torrak noticed that Kalil wasn’t there. Silver, twinkling lights chimed quietly above them.

  “Where’s my friend?”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be around shortly. He’s a little…busy at the moment.” Nuis nodded to the table. “Please, sit and enjoy yourself.”

  Even though Torrak’s stomach rumbled with hunger, the ball of nerves clenched inside made it impossible to eat. If he lost at nah-tsu, he would never find out what happened to Daith. And he hated the idea of wearing some sort of ridiculous costume while prancing around the estate for Nuis’s pleasure.

  A short while later, Kalil entered—hair mussed, clothes askew. A lopsided grin accompanied his disheveled appearance.

  “What happened to you?” Torrak asked in alarm.

  “Huh?” Kalil looked at him, dazed.

  “I asked what happened. You look like you fell down twelve flights of stairs.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What?”

  “It was the most amazing experience of my life.”

  Torrak realized Kalil wasn’t listening to him. He reached over and tugged him down into a chair. “What happened?”

  Kalil came out of his stupor. “She did.” With these words, Kalil glanced up at Preeaht.

  “Her?”

  “Yup.”

  Torrak shook his head. “Here we are in some strange place where I may end up a dancing slave and you go off and let Miss Golden Purr ‘take care’ of you.”

  “I’m simply enjoying their hospitality.” Kalil stuffed a chunk of food in his mouth. “Wait... a danshing shave?”

  Heavy eyelids protested opening. Daith’s head felt stuffy while she lifted it from the pillow. Saliva streaked across her hand as she wiped her face. With measured movements she pushed aside the grey blanket and swung her legs over the side of her bed. Her timereader read oh-nine hundred hours. She’d slept solidly through the night.

  Memories of the day before seeped into her mind. The situation had been so real—Poka on the bridge, Trey’s raging temper. How could it have all been a dream? Were the Controllers really so powerful they could reach into her thoughts from across the cosmos?

  Or were they closer than everyone thought?

  The idea wedged into Daith’s mind. What if the Controllers were closing in?

  Daith changed and left her quarters, her stomach rolling with hunger, too famished to think straight. She made her way down one floor to the mess hall. She didn’t even realize she’d gone there instead of ordering something from the chute in her quarters until she walked through the door.

  Once inside, she spotted Ishia sitting at one of the tables.

  Relief flooded her. Someone she could talk to. Smiling, Daith strolled over. She signaled to one of the mess hall attendants to come take her order. With an air of ease, she pulled up a seat.

  “Morning, Ishia!”

  Ishia’s amber eyes widened. “Hello, Miss Tocc.” She paused, putting down her utensil. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “No. Just wanted to say hi. Any more problems with the piloting console?”

  Ishia’s brow furrowed. “No. Is there a reason there should be?”

  Daith placed her order. The little server scurried away on its three legs. Daith watched the bright blue being return behind the counter, its white bumps reflecting the harsh light. “I suppose not,” she answered Ishia. “I guess I wanted to make sure. I’m still pretty new at my abilities. I worried maybe my fixing it didn’t work.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean. You fixed my console? When?”

  Daith stared at her. “Uh, yesterday? You asked me to fix it. Remember? I got into that fight with Poka?”

  Ishia’s squinted her face. “Yesterday? I don’t recall. And who is Poka?”

  Daith sat, stunned. Two long, flexible arms from the server placed her mosana meat dish in front of her, removing the dish from its flattened top. The server squeaked before toddling away. The large lump of meat steamed, but Daith ignored it.

  Ishia didn’t remember Poka? Impossible. Except… except Trey said Poka wasn’t a crew member. That Daith had been dreaming—controlled by a Controller. Had the whole incident been a set-up? The conversation with Ishia? The console incident on the bridge?

  She needed to be sure. Tentatively, she let the warmth inside her surge forward and she propelled the energy toward Ishia, searching her mind for thoughts tied to the bridge incident, to Poka, any of it.

  Nothing. The memories didn’t exist. Ishia wasn’t lying. Their meeting had never happened.

  An embarrassed flush warmed Daith’s face.

  “Are you all right, Miss Tocc?”

  Concern mixed with fear flooded out of the young cadet. Daith retracted her connection, severing the bond.

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “I guess…I must have been thinking of something else.” She stood. “I’m sorry for interrupting your lunch.” With a quick turn, Daith left the table, her mosana untouched. She strode to her quarters, willing her eyes to stay dry until she could reach its confines.

  Once inside, she brushed away the falling tears, ashamed at crying over something so stupid. But her body didn’t listen and the tears came anyway. Daith genuinely liked Ishia and the Controllers had planted an entire dream to get Daith to open up—to talk about the mission.

  Anger swelled inside her chest. These monsters created something inside her—a friendship, a belittling, a murder—simply to get into her mind. Would they stop at nothing to get her? And how much did they really know? Obviously they had knowledge about the crew and her insecurities. Or had they learned about her through her subconscious?

  Daith’s head spun, tired of feeling all these conflicting emotions. The only one she wanted to talk to had been killed by the same individuals trying to invade her mind.

  Daith sat on the bed and rubbed her temples.

  Her door chime rang.

  “Come in.”

  The door slid open to reveal Trey. He entered, hands laced in front of him.

  “I see you’re awake.”

  Daith nodded.

  “May I sit?”

  “Sure.”

  Trey took a seat on the edge of the bed, his back rigid, his feet flat.

  “Do you think you’re able to talk about your dream?”

  “I think so.” Daith paused, her gaze meandering around the room. “The whole thing must have started before I left my quarters. I felt trapped, panicked, and made my way to the mess hall. Guess that should have been a sign it was a dream—I usually don’t go to the mess hall. I’m not really comfortable around the crew.

  “I met Cadet Ikar and she told me her piloting console on the bridge didn’t work. I went to fix it, using my abilities. While on the bridge, Cadet Poka called me a fraud and I-I lost my temper.”

  “Go on,” Trey encouraged.

  “Anyway, I came back to my quarters and Ishia showed up. We talked for a bit and then you came in. Ishia left, then Poka arrived, yelling for me to come out. You opened the door and threw…I don’t know, some sort of small device that attached to his face and killed him.”

  Trey kept silent for a few moments. “Do you remember what you and Cadet Ikar spoke about? Did you reveal anything about our destination or plan?”

  “We spoke about what happened on her homeworld and why she’d chosen to join the Aleet Army. Then she said the Controller’s main base is on Sintaur.”

  Trey’s eyebrows rose. “She said that?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Trey stood and paced the small room
. His face had paled and looked chalky under the harsh lights. Daith reached out to sense what he felt, but she couldn’t read him.

  “Does this mean our mission is over?”

  Trey stopped. “No. Try as I might, I knew there’d be a chance they might find out we’re coming to Sintaur. After Doctor Ludd betrayed us, I assumed they would know everything he did. But he didn’t know our exact arrival date. We still have that element of surprise. I believe we will be there sooner than they can mobilize a counter-attack. The fact that they are trying to search your mind for clues tells me they still need more information.”

  Her skin prickled at the idea of giving away vital information. “This is all my fault.”

  Trey placed a hand on her shoulder. It lacked the warm energy of his brother’s, but the pressure reassured her.

  “It isn’t your fault. You’ve been running yourself ragged trying to help us with your gifts. You’ve over-extended yourself and the stress of everything has caused erratic sleep patterns. You fell asleep without a dose of dream-deflectors by accident. I only wish the Controllers had revealed something to you about their plans.” He squeezed her shoulder. “For now, let’s concentrate on keeping you strong and healthy.” He gave her a smile and left her quarters.

  Daith drew her knees into her chest. If only she had learned some of their plan. It wasn’t fair they could infiltrate her mind and she couldn’t theirs.

  Or could she?

  After dinner, everyone moved outside. Torrak went to his side of the nah-tsu court and picked up the equipment provided for him. He swung his racket back and forth, listening as the breeze rustled the tightly wound springs screwed in a crisscross shape across a square metal frame.

  Torrak saw Kalil lean over toward Preeaht. They’d both chosen to watch from his side of the court.

  “What’s this game again? Gnat zoo?” Kalil asked, eyeing the two courts with two nets and a slab of flat material hanging above it.

  “Nah-tsu,” she corrected him.

  “Oh.” Kalil said. He waited a moment before awkwardly asking what that meant.

  She smiled. “Nah-tsu originated on Nuis’s home world. Each opponent has a ball and the goal is to hit the ball over the first net with their rackets, bounce it off the net stretched above them,” she said, gesturing above the court, “and then get the ball over the second net on their opponent’s side. The opponent then hits the ball back in the same manner.

  “The point system is a little tricky,” Preeaht continued. “If your opponent misses the ball, you gain a point. You lose points if you hit your own net, miss bouncing the ball off the upper net, or fail to get the ball over your opponent’s net.”

  Kalil scrunched his face in confusion. “If you are able to lose and gain points, how do you know when someone has won?”

  “Each player starts with twenty-five points. If you reach zero you lose, fifty you win.” She entwined her hand with his.

  Kalil’s cheeks flamed.

  Torrak fought off a grin and focused on the game.

  A ball appeared from a small hole below each player. The balls hovered for a moment on a jet of air—a golden one in front of Torrak and a silver one in front of Nuis. A projection of their scores set at 25-25, floated above the court.

  Torrak grabbed the golden ball at the same moment Nuis grabbed the silver one and the game began. Nuis served right away. Torrak counter-served, deciding to get the feel for the court and his racket before he tried any tricks. The silver ball shot over Torrak’s net in a fast, low arc, a tricky shot, but worth it for the difficulty in the return. Torrak swung and missed. The sign changed as Nuis’s score increased by one. Torrak didn’t have time to think about it before his own ball came back at him on the return. Torrak made contact this time, but the ball went flying in the wrong direction, nearly hitting someone on the sidelines.

  Nuis smiled as Torrak’s score lowered by one point. Torrak had barely grabbed his ball when the silver one came flying over his net. Torrak swung and missed again, unprepared.

  “I thought you would be some good competition, but if you lose, I will still be satisfied,” Nuis said with a wink.

  Torrak’s stomach dropped. Don’t think about that! Focus!

  Nuis smirked. Torrak’s golden ball approached him and, right after hitting it, he served his own ball.

  With a quick calculation, Torrak switched the racket to his left hand. He hit the golden ball, spun to gain momentum, and whacked the silver ball with greater force. They ricocheted off the hanging net in opposite directions. Nuis flung himself to the right and narrowly missed the golden ball as the silver one flew past him on his left. Torrak’s score increased by two points, making the score 27-26, in favor of Nuis. Cursing, Nuis threw down his racket.

  “I thought you would be some good competition,” Torrak mocked.

  A few snickers rose from the crowd, but quieted at Nuis’s glare.

  “Now,” he said, turning toward Torrak, “we play.”

  Torrak’s muscles ached. The racket’s grip slid in his hands and he had a stitch in his side. His body protested, but with the score at 5-3 in favor of Nuis, Torrak knew the end neared.

  Torrak returned the silver ball when a strange feeling passed through him. He felt like his mind was pulled through his skull. He stumbled. Words wanted to come, but before they did, he blacked out.

  Torrak stood in a surgical room. The room reeked of sterility. A body lay strapped on a table surrounded by silhouetted figures. Torrak spoke to the figures, but they took no notice of him. He felt jagged, out of place. Like a spectator watching from outside a room.

  He looked up and saw someone floating above the table. Daith!

  She looked different than the other figures—more solid. And she noticed him.

  Daith stared, puzzled. She spoke, but the words came slow and thick. He couldn’t understand her.

  “Tell me where you are!” he yelled. The words bubbled out like air pockets popping in mud. “I’m coming to find you. I can help you. I can find you if you tell me where you are!” The words rang through the air, misshapen. Torrak felt dread rising inside as the look of confusion deepened on her face.

  A yank pulled him away from the scene. His panic grew. He struggled to stay, desperate to make her understand, but the more he struggled, the faster the darkness grew around him.

  Torrak’s eyes flickered open. They blinked several times.

  “Torrak, can you hear me? Are you all right?”

  “I think so,” Torrak replied. His eyesight cleared and he could see Kalil and Nuis hovering over him.

  Kalil helped Torrak stand and the three of them moved off the court.

  “What happened?” Torrak asked, his steps unsteady.

  “I’m not sure. You sort of seized up and then your eyes rolled into the back of your head and down you went.”

  Nuis stood subdued in the background. “You really worried us.”

  Torrak turned toward Kalil. “I dreamt—Daith, but—but it wasn’t mine—I mean it was hers—and I was watching....”

  Kalil patted his back. “Deep breath. Start again.”

  Torrak inhaled and exhaled loudly. “I dreamt about Daith, but it wasn’t my dream. More like she dreamt and I happened to be there, watching. I found her in a room, floating over a body strapped to a table. I called out for her to tell me where I could find her, but the dream ended before she answered. I think... I think she wanted to contact me.”

  Kalil’s forehead creased. “Maybe you’ve been pushing yourself too hard to find her.”

  “No,” Torrak said roughly. “I know it sounds strange, but it wasn’t a simple dream. I saw her. I spoke to her. I’m not crazy.” Torrak said this more to convince himself than them. “She’s out there and I have to find her, before it’s too late.”

  Everyone moved into the dining room. Nuis told the rest of the spectators to retire and told one of his servers to fetch some tea. The four of them sat at the end of the long table. The server brought in a
large steaming bowl and four cups, all meticulously carved out of black stone. He ladled a large dollop of pale green liquid into each cup.

  “Drink this,” Nuis said. “It will help you relax.”

  “What is it?” Torrak asked.

  Nuis smiled. “I have no wish to harm you or your friend. It’s an herbal drink, a bit bitter perhaps at first. My mother taught me how to make it years ago, to help me relax.” Nuis proved the contents were safe by taking a sip from his own cup.

  The four of them sat and drank, Preeaht’s hand resting gently on Kalil’s knee. Torrak’s stress did seem to melt away. It felt good to sit after such a strenuous game, too.

  At that thought, Torrak’s anxiety spiked. “What about our game?”

  “Although I would have liked to see how it ended, I now realize you are on a quest that is more important than satisfying my ego. I have decided to tell you the information you wish to know, even though it will sadden me to lose your presence here.”

  Torrak eyed him with curiosity. So far, Nuis seemed like a spoiled rich kid pretending to be a thug. He knew there would be a catch, but until he found out what that was, he decided not to press his luck.

  “The buyer who talked to me is Faan Kaano,” Nuis told them. “I can give you directions in the morning.”

  Torrak gulped down the rest of his drink. “I don’t want to wait until morning.”

  Nuis let out a chuckle. “You don’t have much choice.”

  Torrak’s head spun. “Thank you for telling me what I need to know so I can go and not be so tired becauseIhavetoleaveand…” Torrak fell backwards out of his chair onto the floor, asleep before he hit the lavish carpet.

  Daith’s vision blurred.

  Where am I?

  She blinked slowly and the scene cleared.

  She floated over a long table with a body strapped to it. Daith tried to see the face on the body, but a large metallic helmet covered it. Figures entered the room, oblivious to Daith’s presence. They circled the table, tightening straps and adjusting the helmet. One figure injected the body with a bright yellow liquid and the body bolted upright. Its head slammed into the metallic covering, moving it aside.