Eomix Galaxy Books: Identity (Book 2 of 2)

by Yelich-Koth,Christa

  The figures rushed around trying to restrain the individual. But Daith had already seen enough. The face on the body belonged to her.

  An injection of cloudy liquid caused the Daith below her to stop struggling. The helmet repositioned over her head. It glowed magenta.

  The scene mesmerized her. But something caught her attention. A figure, clear and sharp in the darkness. A young, blond, darker-skinned man. The man spoke, but his words came slow and garbled. She could only make out bits and pieces.

  Daith remembered her original intent—to search for a Controller. And here he was, in her dream again, sending her confusing images. She screamed at him, ordering him to tell her his plan. The words sounded trapped, like yelling into a glass.

  The scene dimmed. The blond man stared at her, his eyes full or sorrow.

  “Tell…me…coming…find…where…you…are…”

  An invisible source sucked her upwards and she rocketed out of the room, into complete darkness….

  Daith awoke with a start. Flinging her grey blanket aside, she jumped out of bed. Terror manifested itself and streaked across her skin in ripples of goosebumps. Her breath came in short gasps.

  What was that?

  Daith grasped onto the images of the dream. Had she been in someone else’s mind? The Controller’s? Or her own? And that huge machine? Was that real? Had that really happened to her?

  Too many unknowns. She’d been foolish to try to reach out to the Controller in a dream. What experience did she have with this concept? She never worked on it with Dru. Another thing she wouldn’t get to learn from him.

  Daith dressed and made her way through the corridors, shooting suspicious glances at other crewmembers. If Poka had only been a dream, what if no one else here was real? What secrets might she reveal through harmless conversations? The Controllers may be in her mind right now!

  Daith’s chest tightened. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. She slowed, putting a hand on the wall for balance. With a quick look, she found herself on the third floor, standing outside Dru’s old quarters. Desperate for some privacy, she entered into the empty room.

  Daith sank onto the carpeted floor and rested her back against the wall. She wished more than anything Dru would walk in from the back room and talk to her. He felt so far away—as if years instead of days since his death. The bare surroundings taunted her, teased her into thinking he hadn’t been real either.

  Daith’s heart thumped in her chest. A film of sweat prickled her brow and under her arms. Ragged breaths filled her lungs. What if he had been fake? She had nothing of him to prove he’d been real. Not one thing.

  Daith jumped up and strode through the room, searching for something she’d missed before, anything to make his existence a reality. The room, starkly clean, gave the impression it had never been used. But Dru had been messy and disorganized. Surely a food stain or a crumpled piece of clothing lingered somewhere.

  She marched into the back of the suite. Bed made. Closet empty. Table clear.

  Daith’s body shook with panic. He couldn’t have been fake. He couldn’t. She remembered his scent, earthy and safe. His grey eyes like a soft storm. His tousled brown hair, which he constantly flicked from his eyes.

  Daith plopped onto the bed. She recalled when they went out to dinner and laughed at stories of his childhood. How the warmth of energy surged between them without her having to try. How he arranged a game for her to find him on the ship, leaving datapad clues all around....

  Daith held her breath. The datapads. She still had them in her quarters.

  Hurrying, she left the room and raced back to her own, flying past a few crewmembers who gave her a wide berth. Pushing aside her clothes on the floor, she reached under her bed and retrieved the stack of datapads. Firing the first one up, her muscles melted with relief as the words from the first clue appeared on the screen. Now she had proof. He’d programmed these datapads himself.

  Laughter fell from her lips. He’d been real.

  Daith lovingly read through each datapad, sealing the memories of the game in her mind. When she turned on the fifth and final clue, her breath caught in her throat.

  She had forgotten.

  Different words once filled the screen. Someone else left her a message.

  She struggled to remember what it said.

  “Nothing is what it appears to be//you’ve realized this through your time here. There are many who lie, deceive, and trick// preying on doubt and fear. You’re being betrayed, it’s all a lie// your life is just an illusion. In your mind is the truth //to break through your confusion.”

  Daith lowered the datapad to her lap. Who could have sent this to her? And why? Another trick? A Controller spy on board?

  Daith pulled the datapads into her chest, squeezing them as if she could squeeze energy from them to comfort her. She had no control over her own destiny. Now she didn’t even know the truth from the lies.

  But perhaps there was a way. With her abilities, she could sense others’ emotions and thoughts. Maybe through practice, the traitors would be revealed.

  Daith let the datapads slide to the floor. Adrenaline drained out of her. She yawned, but ignored the inviting bed. Feet tucked under her butt, she closed her eyes. Slowing her breath, she concentrated, letting the warm energy fill her, stretching out with her mind into her surroundings, into the minds of the crew.

  *

  Cenjo ran through his routine again. Breathe in, punch, kick, roundhouse, breathe out. Switch sides. Over and over until his muscles seared in protest. Finally he stopped, wiping his face with a towel that lay on the floor next to him.

  So many changes in the past two standard weeks. Daith on the ship, dismissal of multiple crew members, Dr. Ludd’s betrayal and departure. Things were getting out of control.

  Cenjo ended the program and left the simulation room. He also couldn’t believe Daith never asked anyone about her past. He thought his datapad message would have made her ask questions, but she seemed more confused and closed off than ever.

  And that will just put her more out of control.

  Cenjo couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t watch everything the Aleet Army worked for fall apart.

  A quick detour brought him to the above deck. He rang Daith’s chimes.

  “Who is it?” Daith called out from inside.

  “It’s Cenjo. I thought maybe we could meet for dinner later?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry Cenjo. I’m pretty busy at the moment. Maybe tomorrow.” Daith’s voice sounded high and tense.

  “Are you sure? We all have to eat.”

  No answer.

  “Daith?”

  “I’m really busy.”

  Cenjo ignored the knot in his chest. “Alright. I’ll check back tomorrow.” He strode away. What else could he do?

  Torrak woke the next morning on a large, soft bed. Flowers petals covered his blanket, giving off a fresh, floral scent. Once he regained his bearings, he went in search for someone to give him an explanation.

  Torrak found Kalil and Nuis sitting at a small table in an elaborate room of midnight blue and peach. Upset, he barely noticed the flowing drapes and crystal blue fountain that circled the table, and marched straight up to Nuis.

  “Why did you drug me last night?” he demanded.

  Nuis calmly put down his embossed napkin. “The thought of you leaving unprepared concerned me. You were obviously exhausted by our game, weakened by your blackout, and yet determined to leave that very instant. I couldn’t allow that. So I had my server, Bewetru, add something to your drink to help you sleep.”

  “But I saw you drink some, too. Why weren’t you affected?”

  “I was. I fell asleep soon after you did, and I must say I haven’t slept that well in weeks.”

  “Neither have I,” Kalil chimed in, hurriedly stuffing his mouth full of food during Torrak’s piercing glare.

  “I don’t appreciate being lied to,” Torrak said.

  “I didn’t lie to you.
I told you the drink would help you relax and it did. I wanted you rested and restored before running off on some wild chase.”

  “Why do you care so much about what we do? Before Torrak’s blackout, you weren’t willing to help us at all,” Kalil pointed out.

  “True enough, but I thought about how your situation could benefit me as well.” Nuis motioned for Bewetru to clear his plate from the table.

  Here’s the catch. “What do you want?” Torrak asked.

  “I need to get off this planet—today. I want you two to take me.”

  “Why should we? You already told us what we need to know.”

  “True. However, Faan is quite dangerous and deceptive—and isn’t fond of talking to strangers.”

  “That’s what we heard about you,” Kalil sputtered through his full mouth.

  “A lot of that is reputation, I admit. Who would take me seriously if I didn’t have a little bit of a dark side? My fun is in gambling and games, not pain and torture. But make no mistake, Faan falls into the latter category.”

  “What do you want from us exactly?” Torrak asked.

  “I will accompany you to Juha and introduce you to Faan. From there, you can work things out on your own. In return, you will take me, Preeaht, and Bewetru to Jetur, which is the planet next to Juha, and leave us there. Silence about our whereabouts is required, of course.”

  “Why the sudden need to get off this planet?”

  Nuis sipped from a silver goblet. “I suppose I can tell you. When you fell unconscious on the court, one of my servants informed me that a bounty hunter, Kircla, had sent out a request for any information pertaining to my whereabouts, probably over some silly debt I owe. Although I’m surprised she’d come after me.”

  “Why is that?” Kalil asked.

  “Kircla,” Nuis explained, “is one of the most ruthless, animalistic assassins in the galaxy. Business must be slow for her to take me as a contract. Still, if she’s sent messages ahead, it gives me time to leave.”

  Torrak thought about Nuis’s deal. “I agree to your terms, Nuis.”

  Nuis smiled. “Excellent! Preeaht is already packing my bags. As soon as we’ve finished breakfast, we’ll head out.”

  Torrak rubbed his forehead. I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me later.

  Torrak, Kalil, Preeaht, Nuis, and Bewetru, arrived at Torrak’s rented ship in late afternoon. The five of them departed for their two-day trek to the planet Juha.

  They arrived at the planet’s night side, but much to the discontent of the sleep-deprived passengers, Torrak orbited around to the day side.

  “I can’t function on only a standard hour of sleep,” Nuis complained. “How do you expect me to stay awake? I have so many forms to fill out, not to mention—”

  Torrak cut him off. “Sorry, but the city of Jenma is in daylight right now. We’ll sleep during the day and look for Faan at night. Or would you prefer I take you back to C-Nine?”

  Nuis opened his mouth then shook his head. “Until I’m safely on Jetur, I’m part of your group. Sleep during the day it is.”

  As the sun set underneath stacks of layered colors, four of them set out, leaving Bewetru behind at the hotel. They all obtained separate rooms, but Kalil rigged the electronic keys to open any door in the hotel, in case they needed to make a quick exit.

  Since only Nuis knew Faan, he and Torrak would look for her. Preeaht and Kalil went to collect supplies and refuel the ship.

  Torrak let Nuis take the lead. He could tell, however, Nuis had only been to Jenma a few times because more than once they hiked to a tavern he half-remembered or a gaming hall he’d once patronized. No one really seemed interested in divulging any information about Faan, although Nuis dropped a few monetary credits here and there.

  “We’re getting nowhere,” Torrak murmured, after the two of them exited a rather seedy bar. “I thought you knew this guy. Got any other ideas?”

  “I might, but it will have to wait.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because ever since we left that tavern, we’ve been followed.”

  Torrak casually looked around at the buildings and caught a glimpse of a hooded figure about ten meters behind them. He mentally cursed himself for not noticing. Why are my instincts still so off?

  “Should we worry?” Nuis asked, his reddish face mottled under the harsh streetlights.

  “I don’t think we have time. Whoever it is, they’re coming up fast.”

  Torrak grabbed Nuis and they slipped between two of the buildings. He clenched his hands, wishing he had a weapon of some sort, but couldn’t find anything useful.

  Torrak crouched, alert, until the pursuer came around the corner. He dove as feet came into view.

  Their follower went down, but somehow twisted out of Torrak’s grip and ended up on top of him, pinning him to the ground. A sharp, cold piece of metal stuck into his chin. Torrak lay still.

  “All right, Faan. You’ve had your fun. Now, let him up,” Nuis said through a chuckle.

  Torrak saw the flash of a smile from Faan’s shrouded face, before rising.

  “That was an incredible move,” Torrak told Faan. Torrak turned his attention to Nuis. “You knew it was him, didn’t you? You could have warned me!”

  “I suppose,” Nuis said with a grin. “But life is more fun this way. Besides, I didn’t know at first she was the one following us.”

  “She?” Torrak gaped.

  Faan removed her hood. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  Torrak’s heart skipped. Faan’s short platinum hair hung to her chin, perfectly straight. Her ice-blue eyes sparkled with specks of silver, which seemed to accent the iridescent tone of her pale skin. How could he have not seen that face underneath her hood?

  Nuis came over and put a hand on Faan’s shoulder. “I never stand a chance when you’re around.”

  Faan’s gaze shifted to Nuis. “I believe your own blue eyes stole away a few of my prospects in the past. Let’s not forget about Quilaan, shall we?”

  “How could I forget about him?” Nuis sighed dramatically and then laughed out loud. “But we can talk about old times later. We are here to discuss business. Would you like to come back to our hotel to talk? Bewetru’s there, too. I’m sure he’d love to see you again.”

  “Lead the way.” Faan hooked her arm inside Nuis’.

  “Hold on a second,” Torrak cried out.

  The pair turned.

  “What’s wrong?” Nuis asked.

  “You two are friends?” Torrak turned toward Faan. “I thought you were a ruthless killer. Some big, creepy guy. You pinned me like a rag doll and, poof, now you’re this...well... look at you!”

  Faan paused for a moment. “Didn’t mean to disappoint.”

  Torrak stuttered in embarrassment.

  Nuis winked at Faan. “Quit teasing. Let’s get out of here. It’s starting to get cold.”

  *

  Once he reached the hotel, Torrak felt like he might burst. Nuis had insisted they split up to look less ‘conspicuous’ before whisking Faan away on his arm.

  Torrak waited awkwardly at the foot of Bewetru’s bed in his room, where they agreed to meet, until Nuis and Faan sauntered in several standard minutes later.

  Ignoring Nuis, Torrak directed his words toward Faan. “Nuis told me you’re interested in buying scrap metal of Aleet Army ships.”

  “Yes,” Faan said, noticing Bewetru on the bed. “Hello, Bewetru. Long time.”

  Bewetru lifted his head from his reading material. “Miss Kaano. A pleasure as always.”

  Torrak’s fingers tapped impatiently against his thighs. “So you are aware of recent Aleet Army activity?”

  Faan returned her attention to Torrak. “Why would buying scrap metal make you think I would know anything about that? It’s a collector’s hobby.”

  Torrak felt his hope sink into a black hole. She was right. Why did he assume that? He shouldn’t trust his instincts with how shaky they’ve been late
ly. “Now I’m never going to find her.”

  “Find who?”

  Torrak hesitated. He barely trusted himself. He didn’t want to reveal more than he had to. “Someone kidnapped my friend. I believe remnants of the Aleet Army may have been involved.” Anger swelled inside him. “Now this is just another dead end.”

  Faan put her hand on Torrak’s arm, which tingled at her touch. “It’s not quite a dead end.”

  A flicker of hopeful warmth lit inside his chest. “You know something?”

  “Perhaps. But there’s something you have to do for me first.”

  “I don’t have a lot of money, if that’s what you want.”

  “No, nothing like that. I need you to join me at an auction tomorrow evening. My identity in this city is that of a married woman, and it would be…better for me to show up with my husband at my side.”

  “An auction?” he said. He glared at Nuis. “What is this, some sort of joke with you two? Nah-tsu games and a shopping spree? My friend is in danger.”

  “I’m sorry for your friend, but this is business. At the auction , we will connect with someone who knows about the Aleet Army,” Faan said.

  Nuis placed a hand lightly on Torrak’s arm. “Give this a chance.”

  Torrak’s anger abated slowly. He hated depending on others, but he really didn’t know what else he could do. Any delays searching for other leads would waste more time.

  “Fine. I’ll go to the auction with you.”

  Nuis clapped his hands, letting out a nervous laugh.

  “We have all been too tense. I bet Preeaht and Kalil are enjoying themselves and not letting serious matters ruin their time together. Speaking of, where are they?”

  Bewetru lifted up his head from his reading material. “My apologies. I forgot to tell you they called about a standard hour ago. They said they finished collecting the supplies needed and were going to see a Voltag show. If interested, they said to meet them at a restaurant called the Rewin.”