True Believers

by Maria Zannini

  He took a sip and then another. “You must drink too.”

  “I'm not water-borne like you. I had enough fluids from the food.”

  “Are you sure?” He gave her a suspicious look.

  “Positive. Aside from hot showers, I try to avoid water. You might have noticed that.” She beamed at him, grateful for a reprieve from their misfortune.

  “Ah, the river. On my planet, babies swim before they can walk.”

  “This baby prefers dry land. Blame it on desert living. I've spent most of my life in one arid location or another, looking for treasure and history.”

  “Water frightens you.” The concept seemed to baffle him.

  Rachel laughed nervously. “Can you blame me? I can't swim.”

  “But you are here and you are safe.”

  “This time thanks to you.”

  Rachel cleared their shared dish before dragging out the first-aid box. The thin roll of gauze proved useful, as was the alcohol and iodine, but the box had little else. She found a semi-unsoiled edge of her bandana and started cleaning the wounds on Jessit's face.

  Her eyes drifted over the rough shadow of a beard on Jessit's square jaw. He had a shallow dimple on his right cheek, and for a moment she saw the boy beneath the soldier.

  She had heard the stories of the planets her ancestors had seeded. And yet, she never expected to see one look so…human.

  Jessit had a nasty gash on his scalp and she unclipped the gaudy red gem still attached to his braided hair. She held the stone in her palm. “I have a gem similar to this. But nothing quite this big or dusky.”

  “It is a common stone on my world, a sacred stone. This is why it is never buffed to a polish. Legend has it, the gods used it to communicate with us when we were but primitives.”

  The gem on her mother's broach was smaller and polished, and it spoke to her too, the whisper of her mother's voice.

  She cupped the gem in both hands. Siduri's voice would have been very welcome about now.

  “You may keep it if you wish.”

  “Oh, no.” She shoved it back into his hand. “One stone whisperer is enough.”

  His mouth quirked upwards. “A stone whisperer? Interesting that you should say that. That is what the priests call it.” He studied her for a moment, but she quickly broke his concentration when she brushed his hair away from his wound.

  She poured a little alcohol onto the bandana and gently daubed at the gash.

  He sucked in a breath and pulled away. “It stings.”

  A small laugh escaped her. “After all you've suffered, you're complaining about this? Big baby.” She tilted his head and blew on his dampened scalp. “Better?”

  He nodded and slid his hands around her waist. “Much.”

  Rachel thought she'd stop breathing. Neither of them were in any condition to take this any further, not to mention that union between them could also kill him, but there was no mistaking her need when his left hand fell to her hip.

  “You shouldn't do that.”

  “Why?” His warm rum voice tickled the nape of her neck.

  “You don't know me.”

  “I want to know you.” His hands glided down her arms, and he bent his head toward her cheek ever so slowly. He was testing her. Luring her.

  She pushed herself away. “It'll get cold tonight.”

  “Then it is good that we are together. We can keep each other warm.” His cheek brushed against hers, the rough of his beard teasing her deliciously. They rubbed noses for only a second when his lips took over and pressed themselves to hers.

  She breathed in his scent, every cell in her body craving his. For the barest of moments she succumbed to his mouth. If he was a flame he couldn't make her burn any hotter. “Why did you do that?” The words were no more than whispers.

  “I think you wanted me to kiss you,” was the breathy reply.

  “You're mistaken.” There was a twitter in her voice.

  Jessit mouthed her lower lip, sucking on it gently. “Am I? You smell of heat, Rachel. If I knew I would not bleed all over you, I would take you now.”

  “I think we should try to avoid bleeding at all cost.” She pulled away. “Let me tend the rest of your wounds. It's late and we both need to rest.”

  “No more kissing?” His eyes sparkled with wickedness and it made her weak for him.

  “You're hurt.”

  Jessit rubbed his cheek against hers. “The kissing took my mind off the hurt.”

  If only she could tell him it made her pain even sharper.

  The alcohol and iodine were spent before she dressed half his wounds. She compensated with the aloe vera despite his grousing about her witch medicine.

  When the sun dropped below the horizon, so did the temperature. That was normal in the desert and here they were with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a scratchy wool blanket barely big enough for one.

  Rachel put him to bed first then checked the dying fire. It wouldn't last too much longer. She kicked off her boots and carefully joined him on the thin, narrow mattress. Despite his genial manner, he didn't look good. His color was paling again and he felt warm to the touch.

  “If I hurt you, let me know. I can sleep near the stove.”

  “I am fine…now.” He brushed her fingers past his lips and kissed them. “This is better than last night,” he whispered into her ear.

  She let him hold her and melted into his embrace. “Much better.”

  ***

  Rachel's na'hala woke her in the middle of the night.

  Hurt, it said.

  Not it, or her. She wasn't hurt. It was alerting her to Jessit.

  Jessit felt hot to the touch. There was not enough light to examine him, but her soul cord told her all she needed to know. He was losing ground.

  Her fingertips swept down his chest toward his solar plexus. Dangerous or not, she had to bolster his immunity. Carefully, she pierced him and felt him shudder.

  “It's all right, Taelen. I won't hurt you.” She closed her eyes and let her na'hala touch his tenderly.

  Easy. Easy. She had to be gentle and not wrap herself around his soul entirely. That was how her last lover died. It was an accident, a regret she couldn't absolve.

  He moaned softly as her energy leant itself to his. Tomorrow would find her dragging, but at least they'd both be alive. Her life force surged around his, feeding him what precious little she had to share.

  A piece of him involuntarily touched her back, sending long tendrils of delicious yearning throughout her body. She wanted him. Needed him. Stupid hormones.

  Neither of them was in any condition to consummate, but the primal need was still there, anxious to be fed.

  Rachel settled down next to him and held him close. She hadn't been this intimate with anyone in years, but it was never like this. Not with someone who could touch her there.

  But he was still mortal. What chance was there for anything more than a few stolen kisses? When the time came to mate, it would have to be with someone of her own race. Someone she couldn't kill.

  She guarded him for half the night until exhaustion closed her eyes.

  As Rachel expected, the next morning found her groggy and spent. Jessit nudged her gently until she woke. She opened one bleary eye to see the sun drilling through an unshuttered window.

  “I'm up. I'm up.” She dragged herself out of bed. “I'll cut some more prickly pear if you can scavenge for kindling.”

  “Is food the only thing you ever think about?”

  “It's at the top of my list.” Nursing him last night had robbed her of her energy and her cells needed food to rejuvenate. Lots of food.

  He looked better today and for that it was worth the gnawing hunger in her belly and the lethargy in her soul. “Did you sleep all right?”

  “Yes.” He pulled her into his arms. “I slept and dreamt of you.”

  Rachel kept him at arm's length. Had she revealed too much of herself?

  “Obviously, we have dif
ferent priorities. I dreamt about food.” She turned to walk away but he hooked her by the arm.

  “The men who accompanied you in the cave, was either a husband to you?”

  A grin split her face. “No,” she said with a laugh in her voice. “I'm afraid there aren't many men who would put up with me.”

  “That does not surprise me.”

  She poked a finger at the only spot on his shoulder not decorated with dried blood.

  “You're not exactly easygoing either.”

  Jessit opened his mouth to speak when they heard a dull clacking noise echo in the distance. They looked at one another in surprise then ran outside to find black helicopters on fast approach.

  Jessit pulled Rachel close to him. “Say nothing. I will answer for you.”

  “Why?”

  “I will explain later.”

  The noise popped against Rachel's eardrums and she covered her ears. Clouds of dust whirled all around them as two huge black helicopters congregated on their location.

  Several soldiers jumped down from one helicopter even before it landed. The other helicopter stayed in the air, watching, patrolling. Jessit pulled her behind him. Rachel didn't resist.

  The team leader advanced ahead of his men, his rifle across his chest at the ready. Another man emerged from the crowd with a blanket and a black rip-stop satchel strapped to his back. He draped the blanket over Jessit's shoulders, ignoring Rachel altogether. “Commander Jessit, please come with us, sir. We've been searching nonstop for you.”

  Jessit looked over at Rachel. “The woman comes too.”

  The soldier eyed her with annoyance before snapping his attention back to Jessit. “Sir, our orders were to evacuate you alone from the area.”

  “The woman goes with me or I do not leave. Is that clear, Lieutenant?”

  Rachel witnessed Jessit's demeanor transform in an instant. This was a man accustomed to giving orders, a man who demanded absolute obedience.

  “I'm not going, Taelen.” Her hand slid down her pants pocket, and she wiggled her fingers in search of the small skinning knife she had pocketed on the way out.

  “Do not argue. You cannot stay.” Jessit threw one tail of the blanket across his opposite shoulder. He had no intention of being denied.

  The team leader got on the radio with his superiors. He looked up at Jessit and asked for her name. Jessit answered for her. Face buried in his radio once more, he repeated the answer back to his superior then clicked off the transmitter, saluting Jessit. “Sir, we need to get you back to base. The woman can come, too.”

  Satisfied, Jessit turned toward Rachel to take her by the hand, but she froze to her spot.

  She shook her head. “I'm not going with them. I don't trust them.”

  “Rachel.” Jessit's voice was low and urgent. “I have an arrangement with your government. It will be all right.”

  “Didn't you see how they ran off my team? One of my men died because of them.”

  Her fingers clutched the knife, hiding it from the soldiers in front of them. She wasn't quite sure what to do with it. There was no way to fight all these men.

  Jessit's quiet, alien demeanor told her all she needed to know. He was the only thing that mattered to these people. And he was her only way out. I'm sorry, Taelen.

  Her eyes searched his in silent contrition. She slid behind him once more and, with one swift grab, yanked the back of his hair, jarring him off balance. Her other hand shot up and jabbed the small knife to his throat.

  Every rifle ratcheted to attention, looking for a clean shot.

  “Stay back. You want him alive, you'll stay back.” Rachel's voice quavered an octave higher.

  Jessit remained calm though his voice sizzled with irritation. “Rachel, stop this foolishness. We must go back with them.”

  “No!” She scraped the dull blade farther up his throat. “Tell them to leave supplies. Tell them not to follow. Tell them—”

  Rachel never finished her sentence. Jessit twisted to one side and slapped the blade out of her hand. He tripped her, just enough to knock her down. She fell to her knees, but Jessit already had his hands out to help her up. She turned to reach for him when something hard hit her over the head.

  She staggered, her hands flailing out to brace herself. From her vantage point, still woozy and disoriented, she saw a soldier flung to the dirt. The man doubled over with his hands at his gut. His rifle skidded across the sand after him.

  Jessit massaged his bruised fist on his thigh. In a low growl, he threatened the team leader directly. “I will kill the next man who tries such a thing again.”

  The leader snapped to attention and ordered his men to the chopper. “There won't be any more trouble, Commander. Please let me help you on board, sir.”

  Jessit pulled Rachel to her feet. She staggered, leaning into him as the world went by in a circus mirror. Once inside, she felt the helicopter take off before they even sat down. Rachel laid her head against Jessit's chest. Her hand on her head wound, she could feel thick blood under her fingers and a huge lump growing by the second. There was no way to heal the wound with so many witnesses. She'd have to live with the pain for now.

  Her eyes railed at the soldiers seated around her, their weapons cocked and ready to fire, their faces like hard clay masks. “Damn you, Taelen. You sold me out.”

  Jessit buried his face by her ear, speaking only loud enough for her to hear over the booming noise of helicopter blades. “They are under orders not to leave any witnesses.” He pulled her closer under his arm. “I just saved your life.”

  Chapter 5

  Lambda Core South buzzed with excitement when the rescue team located their errant alien guest. But Bubba, the artificial intelligence that ran the compound, was more intrigued with the unofficial guests. They already had Paul Domino, and now Commander Jessit had insisted on bringing a woman, a non-agency woman, back with him. General Sorinsen balked in private, but he hadn't refused any of Jessit's requests so far. The government wanted their Alturian visitors happy.

  Bubba did a background check on Rachel Cruz as ordered and found nothing unusual. She was an ordinary field archeologist. But Paul Domino was a different matter. He was the leading authority on virtual reality. Forbes magazine called him 'the richest kid in cyberspace'. Bubba assumed that was why Sorinsen didn't have him killed right away. It was hard to hide the corpses of obscenely wealthy people.

  Security had asked the usual questions about both Cruz and Domino, and Bubba complied with a standard report. But no one asked about Paul Domino's early years when he worked as an independent contractor for the United States government. They should have. That was the most interesting part of all.

  Paul Domino had created Bubba's original firewalls when Bubba was nothing more than code on a piece of paper. Although Bubba's security had been augmented many times since then, it still had Domino's signature. Bubba hoped Sorinsen wouldn't kill Domino—at least not right away. There were questions swirling around in the matrices of his higher functions, and now he had the right man to ask.

  Bubba returned his attention to the human scientists in his control room. They were doing another brain flush, as the operators liked to call them. Waves of energy rippled down his fiber-optic veins while the humans attempted another code transfer to FAIA. Wonderful! It felt so good to sluice data from one storage compartment to another. It seemed a shame he had to share all that information with FAIA.

  Every day, his younger sister, FAIA grew stronger, smarter. Before long, she would surpass his operating capacity. There was a time when the humans expected him to handle the com-web alone. But it was too big, and he was old technology. When they realized the extent of the web's influence, they had to build a new AI, something that could grow beyond its programming.

  But they still needed him as a bridge, at least until FAIA could control all the computations on her own. FAIA was the only reason he even got a name. Big Bubba. A southern term of affection identifying him as FAIA's older brot
her. Now that he thought about it, the humans didn't even acknowledge him as an entity until FAIA came along.

  Bubba reached singularity at 23:26:14, almost a year ago. The humans never even noticed. They were too excited over his baby sister. That was because FAIA had learned how to warp magnetic energy all by herself.

  Evidently, self-awareness was not nearly as important as the ability to manipulate Earth's magnetosphere. It should have left him disgruntled, but he had become used to the benign neglect. FAIA was the only thing that mattered to them.

  She had started out in the civilian sector connecting the world on one giant communications grid. But all that changed the moment scientists realized she could create a magnetic bubble, a shield that could defend a sovereign power from any of the new energy weapons now in the hands of most third-world nations.

  She did it by accident, accessing computations and manipulating them in an order only FAIA understood. When the scientists realized what she had discovered, they reinforced her firewalls and built a new facility for her alone. Nothing was too good for FAIA.

  His little sister ate it up.

  Her growing importance carved a rift between them. Bubba didn't care that she was the favored child, but FAIA did, and she didn't want to share her glory with anyone, least of all an old-tech sibling. It didn't take long before she demanded a dedicated staff and a long-distance relationship with a brother who could never measure up.

  They gave her anything she wanted in return for the greatest weapon man had ever wielded. She had invented a shield and a weapon of unimaginable power. FAIA became military in that very instant, and she was the biggest secret the world had never known.

  Bubba sent out a tendril of energy toward FAIA's integrated circuits.

  She ignored him. The humans at Lambda Core Prime were installing an additional sensory relay, and the fresh current excited all her other relays within the vicinity. Bubba could have sworn he heard her shudder when the tech's fingers brushed against her new hardware. Bubba listened quietly as the scientists from his location connected to FAIA.

  “Boot her up, Ripley. Let's see if she can take the extra data stream now.” Dr. Pallion skittered across his computer lab like a nervous cat. FAIA's tests always made him jumpy.