“I could never pass up a good show,” Nuis said. “Would you care to join us, my lady?” he said, half-bowing to Faan.
“Normally I wouldn’t be able to resist your charms, but I have other business to attend to this evening.” Torrak saw Faan deftly twirl a small blade and slip it under her black cloak. She turned and looked at him. “I will see you tomorrow.”
Faan left quickly. Torrak ran to the door to ask what time, but she’d already moved out of sight.
Nuis’s eyes twinkled. “Faan’s a fast one. You’ll get used to it.”
Torrak edged toward his room.
“Oh, no. We are going out.”
“I don’t want to,” Torrak said.
“Yes, I understand that. You made it quite clear with your tantrum back there.”
“My what?”
“Oh relax. There’s nothing you can do tonight except worry. Might as well distract yourself. You coming Bewetru?”
“I prefer the realm of imagination.”
“Always the dreamer.”
They left the hotel and headed toward the Rewin. Fire pits glowed around them, lighting the busy walkways, reminding Torrak of the artificial fires lit in the libraries of Fior Accelerated Academy. He and Daith spent many an hour sifting through their class notes, studying for exams. A pang of homesickness hit his stomach. “How long have you known Faan?” Torrak asked, forcing himself away from the past.
“I met her about two standard years ago through a business endeavor. We had similar interests at the time.”
“Why is she interested in the Aleet Army?”
“Nine years ago, her parents were killed in a vehicle collision while driving to their hotel. Faan believes the Aleet Army arranged the ‘accident.’”
“Why?”
“Her parents were two leaders of the Liberators. They’d gone to the city of Cand to meet with the government about the unfair treatment of workers in factories. At the time, the Aleet Army exterminated anyone connected to the Liberators. Although the Army denied involvement, Faan is convinced her parents were targeted because of their political affiliations.”
“Do you really think she can help me?”
“It’s not like her to strike a deal if she can’t. She’s been tracking the Aleet Army for a long time.”
“If you knew she had information, why did you tell me she only buys scrap metal?”
Nuis pushed open the thick fabric door to the Rewin. “Faan’s business is her own and her choice if she wants to divulge it. During our walk back to the hotel, I asked if she minded if you knew about her parents—she didn’t. She’s just as interested in gaining information about the Aleet Army as you are. I think you two will be good for each other.”
Torrak spent the rest of the walk thinking about how “good” they could be together.
The two of them entered the Rewin and found Kalil and Preeaht sitting close together at a table in the corner, facing a large stage. Kalil waved them over while the server cleared their dinner plates. Torrak quickly filled Kalil in on what happened before the lights dimmed and the stage lit up.
On the platform stood a very tall, bony woman with deep brown skin. Barely covered in cream veils, her hair floated all around her, as if suspended underwater. Three mouths located along her jaw line stretched from her ear to her chin. The other side of her face had three slits, like gills. Each mouth sang a different line of music, creating an intertwining three-line harmony.
Though he didn’t understand the language, the singer evoked the feeling of a lost love and heartache.
When the Voltag finished her performance, the four companions made their way back to the hotel in silence. After climbing into bed, Torrak fell asleep with the haunting music still floating through his mind.
“Two days,” Cenjo said while he strode back and forth across Trey’s office. “She hasn’t come out of her quarters in two days.”
Trey watched the man’s movements with growing impatience. “I’m well aware of that, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Well you need to do something about it. It’s not healthy. It’s not safe.”
Trey’s jaw twitched. “I’m open to any suggestions.”
Cenjo stopped. “Apologies, Commander. It’s...frustrating. She shouldn’t be on her own at a time like this.”
“She is grieving. I’ve spoken with Doctor Milastow. She assures me that it’s perfectly reasonable for Daith to take some time for herself. The death of my brother has been hard on all of us.” Trey swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.
“We will be in the Fracc system in a little less than one standard week,” Cenjo said. “I know you want Daith to help us in our mission against the Controllers on Sintaur, but I’m not sure she’ll be of any use to us by then.”
“No need to worry about Daith. I’ve been monitoring her closely. I believe this time is therapeutic for her and she will emerge all the stronger.”
Cenjo’s shoulders drooped. “Commander, do you really think we need her? Most of the crew is terrified of her. And none of them really remember what Jacin Jaxx was like, except you and I. She seems more out of control than him. Do you think she’ll be any more stable by the time we arrive?”
“I can assure you she will be ready for what she needs to do once we arrive. The destabilization of the Controller base will not take long. We will finally show the galaxy their true nature.” Trey nodded a dismissal and Cenjo exited the office.
Moments later Trey’s communications console beeped.
“Yes?”
“Commander Xiven, you have an incoming transmission from Kircla.”
“Send it through.”
“Commander Xiven.” The vidlink monitor filled with her aquamarine face. “You have provided me with a worthy target.”
Trey’s tension trickled away. “I’m glad to hear it. Are you ready for your final payment?”
The Orcla female hissed through her pointed teeth. “No. I believe the target lives.”
Trey’s jaw tightened. “What? How?”
“I disposed of the other twenty-eight possible candidates. When I searched for the twenty-ninth, I could not locate him in the target city. Upon further search, I discovered he recently purchased a ship, using a retinal scan. I retrieved his records—his name is Torrak Spirtz and he left Fior with a secondary passenger.”
Trey couldn’t breathe. “He’s off planet?” he wheezed. This couldn’t be happening. If word somehow got out that Daith had been kidnapped, it could jeopardize everything. “We’ll never find him now. He could be anywhere!”
Kircla flipped one of her blue twisted chunks of hair over her shoulder. “Do not panic, Commander Xiven. It is unbecoming.”
Trey recoiled at her scold. Fury broke through the surface. His teeth ground.
“If you think—”
“I know where he is,” she interrupted.
Trey snapped his mouth closed, his anger ebbing. “You do?”
“Yes. I tracked his flight path. The craft docked on C-Sector Nine. I contacted an associate of mine to locate him since it would be a few standard days until I could arrive. Torrak Spirtz contacted a low-level gambler, Nuis Weir and they left together. My associate placed a tracking device on their ship before they departed. They left one day ago and docked in the city of Jenma on the planet Juha. I am en route to intercept.”
“Very well. Call me only when the job has been completed. And Kircla, dispose of anyone else Torrak has contacted. I don’t want this to reflect poorly on your hiring status.” Trey ended the call. He slammed his fist onto the desk, wincing at the pain.
So close. He’d calculated everything down to the last detail. But he couldn’t have known a witness would have been left behind. Or that his brother needed to be killed sooner rather than later, Cenjo would ask questions, and Dr. Ludd would develop a conscience and leave the ship.
The level of lies he weaved was getting harder to maintain, but he had no choice. He knew Daith had tried to invade his mind durin
g her time in her quarters. She’d probably done the same with the rest of the crew.
Luckily for Trey, no one else knew the whole plan except him. The crew believed their only mission was to sabotage the Controller base to destabilize the organization. No one knew about the space fleet reinforcements he’d hired, headed by Exarth, to meet him at Sintaur. Or about the rogue witness to Daith’s abduction and the hundreds of others he had in play on dozens of planets. And especially Daith’s true role in everything.
If Trey could keep his mind sealed from her until they reached Sintaur, no one in the galaxy besides himself would know his true plan.
*
Daith’s mind whirled with thoughts—thoughts that weren’t her own. She decided to mentally probe the crewmembers to see if they were lying. She knew so many things now about them: rivalries, jealousies, affections, fears. But each member seemed completely loyal to the cause. To Trey.
Other images passed through Daith’s mind while she concentrated, while she focused on the minds around her. Images from those who were no longer on board—echoes of memories.
Bits and pieces from Dr. Ludd before he left.
And a moment of Dru.
She hadn’t been prepared and broke into sobs, her tears mingling with the blood from her runny nose.
She remembered Dru had once described telepathic connections as “energy fingerprints”, an impression left behind by all living things. Somehow she tapped into those residual traces.
A quick flash—like an electric spark during a storm. He’d been looking at her during one of their sessions, when Daith first learned about her abilities. They’d been in one of the simulation rooms and the program had them sitting in chairs on a small patch of sand, surrounded by ocean. Dru looked at her with her eyes closed, the breeze ruffling her hair, her brow furrowed in concentration, and he thought he could truly be happy with her. He could open up and let her in.
The feeling had been so warm and inviting it pierced through her veil of focus and tore at her heart. To have been so close, to never know, to almost have something unique and beautiful in such a tumultuous galaxy.
And it had been ripped away before she could ever know what might have been.
Daith composed herself and returned to searching through others’ thoughts, but her mind wouldn’t focus and fatigue beat down on her. She didn’t know if she had the strength to fight the upcoming battle against the Controllers, those who’d murdered her family and killed Dru.
She wondered what her life would be like if she could spend time with her family. If she could find solace in Dru’s voice again.
Then the image came she feared so much—Dru’s death. Usually it came to her during her sleep, but this time she saw the image while awake, projected before her eyes like a broadcast, and she couldn’t look away. The burst of light, the sizzling flesh, the blackened hole in his abdomen.
Daith vomited. She looked around her. The lights above her blurred in and out of focus. Her blood splattered the floor, most of it dried. Sweat-soaked clothing clung to her body. Her heart raced. Her body shook.
Daith gasped for breath, spasming into a fetal position on the floor.
She knew she was dying. This is what it felt like to die.
The next evening, Torrak paced while he waited for Faan. Someone knocked on his door. Disappointment flooded him at the sight of the hotel employee on the other side.
“Yes?” Torrak asked.
“A package has arrived for you. The woman who dropped it off asks that you meet her downstairs in the lobby in one standard hour.”
“Thank you.” Torrak unwrapped the package. He gawked at the outfit, easily worth more than his tuition to the Academy. He slid into a midnight blue jacket accented by a pair of sparkling silver cuff links, a silky ivory-colored shirt that fit snugly over his toned body, and charcoal gray pants which hung from his waist like flowing drapes. A carved bone cane, flecked with swirls of a midnight blue stone, completed the ensemble. The note attached to the cane read “Lean on Left.”
“You clean up nicely.”
Torrak spun around to find Nuis in the doorway. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for us to have access to every room in the hotel.”
“I’ll knock next time,” Nuis said with a smile.
“I feel ridiculous.”
“Well you look great. Let’s say I’m sorry you’re not in my market.”
Torrak grinned. “I’ve got to get going. You headed out tonight?”
“No. I have some paperwork to take care of. Who knew there were so many forms to fill out when changing addresses—and names for that matter!”
“What about the bounty hunter, what’s her name…Kircla? Aren’t you worried she’ll find you here?”
“Not really. No one knew I planned to leave. Besides, we’re only going to be here for another night. After that, I’m a new man. At least on paper.”
“I’ll see you later then.”
“By the way,” Nuis added, “Bewetru wondered if the two of you could switch rooms. He had a terrible allergic reaction to the carpet. Since your room has marbled floors…?”
“No problem,” Torrak called over his shoulder. He walked downstairs to the lobby and felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and hoped his eyes hadn’t actually fallen out of his head. Faan, no longer dressed in black pants and a hooded cloak, wore a satiny pale blue dress, which matched her eyes. The dress, formfitting and ankle-length, hugged her body, leaving little to the imagination. The square-cut bodice showed off her curves and iridescent skin. An off-white fur lay across her shoulders. The final piece, an off-white ribbon studded with a pale blue stone lay across her throat.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Faan said.
Torrak felt heat rise in his cheeks. He composed himself and held out his arm. “Shall we go, my dear,” Torrak said, cringing as his voice cracked.
“Of course.” Faan took his arm and the two of them left. Once inside their transportation, Torrak asked about their fake personas.
“We are Lord and Lady Merr. We own a large house in the northern outskirts of the city of B’kri on Jetur. You are a local businessman who owns several banks. I head the Museum of Antiquities in downtown B’kiri. I warranted an invitation to this auction to see if the Museum wanted to acquire any new pieces.”
“And this couple we’re pretending to be? What if they show up?”
“They are…unable to attend.”
Torrak arched an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “I didn’t do anything permanent.”
Her remark reminded him of her ruthless reputation. While they quietly sped through the streets, he hoped he wasn’t in over his head.
When they arrived at the auction house, Torrak caught a glimpse of himself in the vehicle’s window and was impressed at the change in his appearance. During the ride, Faan had darkened and added streaks of grey to his hair. A full beard accompanied bushy eyebrows. Faan also applied makeup to fill in some of Torrak’s natural creases, giving the effect of deepened wrinkles. Torrak easily looked ten years older.
“You know, you don’t look half bad for an old guy,” Faan teased.
When they entered, Torrak’s eyes widened. Paintings and sculptures lined the back wall, while glass cases containing jewelry, stones, and fragile artifacts ran along the front. The side walls were covered with rugs, urns, vases, and other large items. The two of them circled the room, eyeing the beautiful artwork and stunning craftsmanship.
“What are you bidding on?” Torrak asked.
“This piece coming up.” The two of them approached a painting that hung in the back. Blue and purple swirls jumped from the canvas in a three-dimensional projection. “It’s a very old style called Mimicked Three-Dee Art. The artist goes through the motions of painting in the air, and a computer program records the movements and transfers them into a simulated program,” Faan explained. “It’s exactly the kind of piece that Lady Merr would be interested in
for her museum.”
They found the chairs reserved for Lord and Lady Merr about four rows from the front. Torrak nervously tugged at his fake beard.
“You look fine,” Faan reassured him. “Now leave it alone before it falls off.”
A standard hour later, their lot came up on the block.
The auctioneer, a short, pudgy man with a long mustache and small, beady eyes, grasped the painting delicately with his sixteen fingers. The bids rose quickly. Torrak watched as Faan repeatedly pressed the button in front of them to indicate her interest.
At a seemingly random number, Faan stopped. She nodded to the two remaining bidders. Torrak began to rise to leave, but Faan placed her hand on his arm to hold him back.
“Wait,” she told him.
Torrak turned his attention to the other two bidders.
The first bidder was a male Aq, an aggressive species from the Kowsa sector. His red skin gleamed with a special oil mixture. The Aqs lived on a moist planet, and since Juha lacked the level of humidity needed, their skin dehydrated very quickly. A container of oil hung from his neck, nestled against his bare, red chest.
The other bidder was a member of a species Torrak had never seen before. The being towered over those around it. It had very dark, almost black skin, which continually flaked off its body, and huge pale brown eyes. It had no body hair and periodically snapped its mouth open and closed. It reminded Torrak of a reanimated, charred corpse.
The darkened being outbid the Aq, who noisily left the room in disgust. When the auctioneer announced the end of the bidding, Faan turned toward the purchaser and bowed her head.
Torrak and Faan left the auction house and entered their vehicle, but didn’t drive away. Several standard minutes passed before the door opened and the darker being who won the bid climbed in.
“Good evening, Ha’re,” Faan said. “I’m glad you could come.”
Ha’re clicked a response and nodded toward Torrak.
“He’s clear.” Faan leaned in. “Now, what can you tell me?”
Eomix Galaxy Books: Identity (Book 2 of 2) Page 13