Her thoughts returned to Greg. He had become terribly stressed and worn from his lack of rest and the disturbing dreams he was experiencing. She so much wanted to take care of him and she yearned for the closeness their duties prohibited. He would push his mental and physical capabilities to the limit often, but she had never seen him fail to rebound and come back after a while, looking renewed and ready to move on to the next problem. She felt something was wrong, and that he still was not telling her everything about the dreams.
She still had her other concerns about the way his abilities had been mutating ever since their indoctrination. Had the changes stopped? Even Greg didn't know that answer. How far would they go and what would they do to him and his mind? More questions without answers. This was turning into one of those times when she wondered what life would have been like if they had never gotten involved with the UCDW. However, she quickly rejected that question, for no matter what happened, their involvement was crucial to the development of this world and all its inhabitants. She couldn't think of just her own and Greg's feelings; there was too much at stake.
She closed her eyes and sent her thoughts to him.
::Greg, can you hear me?::
Several seconds passed without a response; she felt a cold chill shiver down her spine.
::Greg, are you there? Can you–::
::Yes, Sarah, I can hear you I was in the middle of a… Well, a bit of work and I had to finish… It's kind of hard to explain.::
::Is something wrong, Greg? Where are you? Do you feel okay?:: She sensed something unusual in his voice.
::Nothing's wrong, Sarah. I'm fine. I was just…wandering in my mind.::
::Huh?::
::Nothing. Just woolgathering, I guess. What's going on at your end?::
::We need to talk.::
Chapter Twenty-one
“When all else fails…tell the truth.”
President Edward Samuel
"There's only one way to put this Schume's claims to rest," Greg told Sarah and Edward when they returned to the UCDW headquarters. All three of them were seated at the conference table in Greg's quarters. "I'll come to Washington and address the reporters. Otherwise, he'll continue to use a lack of a response as a way to keep his story going."
"What about the other reporters?" Sarah asked.
"They're riding his shirttail at the moment. He falls and they all follow," Edward inserted.
"But this going head-to-head worries me," she said.
"I see no other way to get him off our backs short of kidnapping this guy and hiding him away," Greg joked, but then quickly resumed a serious expression. "However, I won't do it with you two. I'll do it alone, claiming to be responding to the accusation I've disappeared."
"Why do it that way? I mean, not admitting to knowing us," Sarah asked.
"In case something goes wrong. I won't drag you two down with me. But I don't think that'll happen."
"And what about the photo he has of you and me?"
"I'll just say you and I met after the similar experience we had, and we agreed not to pursue any media exposure. After that, we went our separate ways. You became involved with the president's campaign. I decided to pursue my dream of becoming a writer and moved to a secluded area in West Virginia. It's plausible and based on historical data that most people who have a near-death experience turn to writing. And I do actually own a home here. We purchased it in case something like this ever happened."
"Sounds like a plan," Edward said. "And I concur with doing it away from the White House and all. Makes it appear you're on your own and acting of your own volition. But how are you going to approach it?"
"Simple," Greg replied. "I'm going to give Mr. Schume everything he wants."
Silence fell as Edward and Sarah considered what Greg had just said and tried to imagine what he meant.
"Look, don't worry. I have it all worked out," Greg said. "I'll make the announcements for the press conference before I leave for DC, and then you two need to be ready for the next accusation this reporter guy will come up with."
"I still think he's just a puppet for someone else. We need to get to his source to put an end to all this," Sarah stated, then shifted topics. "Any word from Leumas yet?"
"No, nothing yet." His concern was obvious. "But it's still too early to get worried. I'll wait a while longer before we take any action."
"Let us know if you hear anything," Edward said. "I have some other business I need to take care of. I'll talk to you later, Greg. Sarah, I'll wait for you at the shuttle."
"How are you feeling, Greg?" Sarah asked once they were alone. She moved close to him and brushed his hair away from his forehead "You sounded kind of strange before, especially the way you said that you were wandering around your mind. What was that all about?"
"Just a little joke. And I feel much better. I finally got a good night's sleep." He tried to make it sound like the truth, which in a way, it was.
He did feel better, but it was not from a good night's sleep. It was from the anticipation he might get some insight into what was happening to him, and possibly what lay ahead in the future. He gently grasped her hands and held them in his.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it. You really had me worried. You're not just telling me that to make me feel better, are you?"
"You're such a worry-wart. All this fussing over just a few dreams. It's just a reaction to all the stress we've been under lately. I'm fine."
"I just miss you," she said as she placed his hands around her waist. "We haven't been together for more than a few hours for weeks."
"I know. I miss you, too. Remember how it was before all of this? We spent days together—some really fun times." Greg kissed her gently on the lips. As he pulled back, he gazed into her eyes. He allowed himself to be drawn into their depth as he felt his love for her fuel his desire for her. He kissed her again, this time deeply. After some time, they slowly drew apart.
"Now, there's the Greg I remember," she said as she hugged him tightly.
"You remember when we were stargazing a few months ago, the bottle of—"
"Greg! Stop! You'll make me blush," she said, feigning embarrassment. "You bet I do. It was one of the most wonderful nights of my life. I wish every day could be like that."
"Me, too. I love you, Sarah," Greg said as he hugged her again.
He closed his eyes and remembered that night. It was a rare thing for the two of them to be together and even more rare to be alone from the UCDW and its mission. This particular night, they had snuck off like two schoolchildren and stayed away for hours. They lay upon a hill as darkness settled around them. They made love under the starlight while they forgot, for a little while, that they carried the weight of not just one world on their shoulders, but hundreds.
"And I love you," Sarah said.
"Next time you're my way, I'll buy you dinner. I'll get hold of another bottle of your favorite wine. How's that sound?"
"You can count on me being there. The only question is when?"
"I know it's hard, but we'll get through this and make the time somehow," Greg said. He felt so guilty at times for the way they attempted to manage their relationship through all of their responsibilities. He kissed her again and then they held each other. The chiming of the clock caught Greg's attention.
"Okay, then, I guess I need to make some travel arrangements and get on my way so we can settle this," he said, reluctantly letting her go.
"Greg, please be careful. This guy always seems to carry a bag of tricks with him. We'll be watching from our end in Washington." Sarah kissed him. She touched his face and smiled. Greg saw the moisture glisten in her eyes. "One day we'll be together, all the time," she said, then turned and headed to the shuttle.
Greg's earlier feeling of contentment slowly faded as he watched Sarah leave. He wondered if the day she mentioned would ever come.
::Greg,:: a voice called in his mind. He recognized it as Vague's.
::Yes.::
::Time to go.::
::Where?::
::Close your eyes and think about the planet Saturn.::
::But–::
::Just do it. It will be all right.::
Greg closed his eyes and began to replace the image of Sarah with that of the planet Saturn.
* * * *
Leumas arrived on the thirteenth floor and hesitated as the doors to the lift opened. He tried to dismiss the earlier sight of the body being carried out from his mind, but the image replayed itself over and over. If one wanted to ensure someone had an accident or vanished, this was definitely the place it could very easily happen. He wished he had brought someone along with him. Strength in numbers was definitely a psychological benefit at a time like this.
Stepping out of the elevator, he checked to the left and right. There was no one else in the corridor. Trying to look as calm as he could, he cautiously proceeded to the room indicated by the Dracarian desk clerk. Leumas imagined his Dracarian friend was probably going to have a nasty headache for quite a while when he woke up—a downside to influencing. The effects varied, but most developed a headache that would throb unmercifully for quite a while. Still, some things were necessary to get the job done, he thought. And besides, the alien had needed an attitude adjustment.
The corridor was not well-lit. Only half the lights appeared to work, causing shadowed pockets where the corridor seem to be eaten up by the darkness. Although Leumas was unnerved by it, given the hotel's location and reputation for confidentiality, it was probably purposely lighted that way to ensure privacy of and for its guests. Still he stepped cautiously, his feet feeling the sponginess of the carpeting as he passed doors looking for the number he sought. Old paintings hung on the wall, a contrast to the more modern-day holographs that displayed continually changing views. The more he saw, the more he was beginning to feel he was in a museum rather than a hotel. The word "tomb" came to mind, but he wished it away quickly.
Leumas had performed much undercover work in his role as initial contact agent for the Council, but very rarely had it involved the searching out of an adversary or someone who could possibly harm him in return. Training was more about how to blend in and not be noticed—more defensive than the offensive tactics required at this moment.
Arriving at the room, he was unsure of what approach he should use. He checked his stun weapon and ensured the safety was off as he prepared to knock on the door. His stomach soured at all this cloak-and-dagger routine. He cleared his throat and then took deep breaths, trying to calm himself so he would be ready for whatever happened next. He knocked three times on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again in the same way and achieved the same results. He gripped the door handle, turned it and pushed. The door didn't open.
Taking his stun weapon, he set it on its lowest setting for a pulsating burst. He pressed the muzzle of the weapon up to the lock mechanism and pressed the trigger. A crackle similar to the static electricity sounded and a small arc of light appeared. He retested the door mechanism and it turned freely now.
Slowly, and as quietly as he could, he pressed the door open all the way to get as clear a view as possible. There was no movement. He proceeded into the room, silently closing the door behind him. He began his search.
He was in a sitting room, surprised to find that the room's furnishings, although old, still possessed a sense of elegance that he even found appealing. High-backed chairs surrounded a small table, and there was a sofa with intricate wood trim that curved along the its back reminding him of a serpent. There were some modern additions—communications portals and a vid screen—but, on the whole, the rooms maintained their old yet quaint appearance.
He scanned every foot of space looking for any telltale sign of an occupant. He saw nothing. No suitcase, papers, magazines, clothing or any other indication of an occupant. He moved toward the entrance into the next room. He flattened himself against the wall to the side of the doorway and listened. Nothing. He moved through the doorway and crouched while he scanned the room. Nothing. No sign of anyone.
The bedroom was simply furnished: a large wooden dresser, a bed and two night tables with lamps upon them. The bed was made and showed no signs of any recent use. No suitcases or clothing. He moved to the closet and opened the partially ajar door with the toe of his shoe. Empty hangers swayed back and forth on the pole, disturbed by the air he had let in.
A door led to another room, probably the bathroom. He repeated the same tactic he'd used entering the bedroom. The bathroom yielded the same results. No toiletries except for the usual hotel items on the counter. Clean towels sat on the shelf.
Lowering the gun, Leumas wiped at the sweat now dripping down his face and exhaled strongly. Pocketing the weapon, he opened some of the dresser drawers. Like everything else in the rooms, they were empty and showed no signs of use.
Could the Dracarian on the front desk have lied? he wondered. No, he couldn't have lied under influence. The only way that could have happened was if he had been given false information to begin with.
That could only occur if he had been influenced to provide me false information!
Just as he realized how easily he had been maneuvered into the trap, he heard a hissing sound. Glancing up he saw vapor exuding from each air vent in the room. Covering his nose with his arm, he moved toward the door. He found it difficult to maintain his balance; the room swam before his eyes and his legs felt numb. He withdrew the weapon from his pocket only to drop it as his motor skills evaporated. He collapsed to the floor and thought he heard muffled laughter coming from very near where he lay.
The laughter scared him and sent chills through his body as they reverberated off the walls and his mind. He thought that laughter was familiar. He struggled with the dream-state trying to drag him under so he could try and place where he had heard it before. Just before losing consciousness he thought he had it.
But that can't be true. He's dead!
With newfound horror, he succumbed to a dreaded sleep and the nightmare he knew it would contain.
Chapter Twenty-two
“I opened my eyes but refused to see.”
Leumas
Leumas slowly opened his eyes. He was still in the hotel room to which he had been so easily maneuvered and gassed to unconsciousness. He was lying on the bed instead of the floor. At least his captors cared somewhat for his comfort. He attempted to lift his head, found it ached immeasurably and took back the thought that anyone cared about his comfort. Must have been Sironian immobilizing gas; it always leaves a nasty headache afterwards, he thought.
Suddenly getting the skin-crawling feeling he was being watched, he rolled to his side and sat up on the edge of the bed. A very large humanoid shape sat in a chair about twelve feet from the bed; the backlight from the window behind darkened all but the outline of whoever it was. Leumas knew he was outmatched physically. Reaching for his stun weapon, Leumas was not totally surprised to discover he no longer possessed it. He remembered he had dropped it. He remembered laughter, and he recalled thinking he knew that laugh.
"And you might be?" Leumas tried to sound calm as he raised his arm to block some of the bright light in hope of seeing more of his captor.
"I am Carnis. But it is you I believe owes me an explanation, sir, seeing as how you are in my room," the shadowy figure said in a bland, almost robotic tone.
Leumas recognized the manner of speech. Carnis was speaking through a device that would make all voices sound the same, thereby eluding detection. Did he know this person? Is that why he was hiding his voice? His attempts to see any detail of his captor were useless and he lowered his arm. He didn't recognize the name Carnis, but he also doubted it was a real name in any case.
"I'm here investigating an incident you may've been involved with. You were bragging at a bar down the street about destroying an Arcturian ambassadorial vessel. As far as my name goes, I'd rather not reveal that at this point, if it's all the same to you."
"Dispen
se with your crap! I know who you are, Leumas! I knew you were coming before you even left Earth, and you fell for all the bait I planted. You're getting sloppy in your old age."
How did he know I was coming? Our suspicions of a spy within the UCDW must be correct.
"And I have every right in the world to kill you for being in this room," Carnis continued. "No one would ask any questions. The computer entry system would have all the proof necessary if anyone did care. And before you get any smart ideas of trying to escape, my associates are monitoring the room. "
"Did you have something to do with destroying that vessel?" Leumas doubted Carnis had any intention of letting him leave alive. But perhaps that confidence would make him talk. His last chance would be to attempt escape using his influence power.
"Of course, I did. Well, not directly. I did pay to have it done. Does that still count?" His voice quivered as if he were fighting back a hilarious outburst.
"Why?" Leumas asked. "You must've known the ship was ambassadorial and would not have any substantial weaponry. Why did you murder those helpless people?"
"Because they were there," Carnis said with an air of indifference. "The snooping Arcturian fools had gotten hold of some information I didn't want them to have. They could have interfered with my plans, and nobody will do that. Nobody will live one second after just thinking about interfering with my plans. Do you hear me?"
Even through the voice-disguising mechanism, Leumas heard the insane rage in the voice of his mysterious captor.
"So what are your plans? Some scheme to get rich? Terrorizing a sector of the galaxy? What?"
"My plans? You want to know them? Well, I have many; I have plans within plans. Where shall I begin?" His voice rose in volume. "I'm going to have a reunion with some old friends of mine, maybe travel a little bit. You know, visit some strange new worlds, have a little fun, maybe destroy some planets and, best of all, kill. I'm going to kill one hell of a lot of people if they don't see things my way, and even if they do, I might kill them anyway." He finished with a fervor that scared Leumas.
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