by Nina Croft
Nothing! The tips of her ears burned. “You don’t like my room?”
“Hell, this isn’t a room. It’s a cell. A prison, where they lock bad people up so they can’t leave.”
“Except I’m not bad. And I didn’t do anything wrong.” If she said it enough, she might convince herself. She waved a hand around her room. “And this is for my protection.” Of course it is.
“Protection against what?”
She gritted her teeth. “I don’t know.”
He shook his head again. “You are one strange lady.”
“I am?”
“Oh yeah. What’s your name, strange lady?”
“I’m Destiny.”
“Are you indeed? Pretty name. Do you tell all the men you meet that they’re beautiful?”
“You’re the first man I’ve met. Though I did see others on the trip from the ship this morning. But none looked like you.”
He grinned. “I’m one of a kind, babe.”
“Babe?”
“It’s an…endearment. Has no one ever called you babe before?”
She couldn’t imagine Dr. Yang calling her anything but Destiny. “No. But I like it.”
He was watching her again, brows drawn together as though she wasn’t behaving as expected. She had no idea what was expected. How could she? But she wanted him to like her. Maybe she should try to explain. “You’re only the second person I’ve ever talked to in my life.”
His eyes widened. They were beautiful eyes, silver rimmed with black, and his lashes were long. “Who’s the first?” he said.
“Dr. Yang.”
“Is that the woman you were with before?” When she nodded, he said, “Is she the one who locked you up down here? For your own protection?”
“She is.” The way he’d said it, though, it sounded all wrong, and the need to defend her guardian surged within her. “Dr. Yang has always taken care of me.”
“What about your mother and father? Were they crew on the Trakis Four?”
“I don’t know.” A wave of sadness washed over her. She’d learned about normal family units in her schooling, but she had no clue what had happened to her parents. Or why they’d never taken care of her. Dr. Yang said it wasn’t important.
“How old are you?” Milo asked.
Good, something she could easily answer. “I was twenty-six when I went into cryo.” She studied him, trying to guess his age, but all she could gauge was that he wasn’t elderly. “How old are you?”
“I’m…” An expression she couldn’t decipher flashed across his face. “A little older than that.”
Though he didn’t look old, there was a sense of age about him, as though he’d done things and seen things she couldn’t even imagine. She’d bet he had experienced life, had climbed mountains, swum, flown. Made love. At the thought a shiver ran through her. She sighed. The things she wanted to do were building inside her, all mingling with feelings and hopes she just didn’t understand.
Her eyes pricked and she pressed her lips tight, looking away and staring at the wall, pulling herself together while she felt like she was falling apart. She wasn’t a child to cry for things she couldn’t have.
She was a grown woman with an important role to play.
Outside the cell, the footsteps had faded to nothing. The men had gone. She didn’t want Milo to leave, but he must have noticed the silence as well. He pushed himself to his feet, then took the couple of steps to the door and peered out.
“They’ve gone.”
She had an urge to beg him to stay just a little while longer. To talk to her—tell her about the world. The old one and the new one. At least she could experience things secondhand. All she knew was she didn’t want him to go. Didn’t want to be alone.
“Don’t go.”
He turned to face her, his expression serious. “I have to leave, but you don’t have to stay. No one has the right to lock you up like a prisoner and tell you some bullshit about protecting you.” He shook his head. “The door is unlocked.”
She could be free. All she had to do was step out. “I should go with you?”
“Not with me.”
“Why?” She frowned, and he stared at her for a moment before answering, the hard lines of his face softening a little.
“You wouldn’t like it with me. I’m not good company, and I work alone.”
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “Alone we are nothing. We have to work together for the greater good.” That’s what Dr. Yang had always told her.
“More bullshit. You might have to. Not me.” He glanced at the door again and back to her. “You should really think about leaving.”
For a brief moment, she considered the idea, but where would she go? And besides, she didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Yang. “I can’t. But you could stay. For a little while longer? I don’t like being alone.”
He shook his head, then took a step closer. “I’ve never met anyone like you. And I’ve met a hell of a lot of people.”
She hadn’t realized how big he was until he was right in front of her, looking down. She peered up at him, mesmerized by his eyes. Reaching out, he rested his hand against her shoulder, and heat seeped through her clothes and into her skin, warmth singing through her body. She swayed toward him, her lashes fluttering closed—
Then something buzzed.
What? Her eyes blinked open.
The noise was coming from the machine on his wrist. He glanced down, then stepped back, his hand falling to his side. He looked at her and turned away, spoke quietly into the machine and then listened. When he turned back, she knew he was leaving. His expression was rueful.
“I have to go.”
“I know.”
“Look, just…” He ran a hand through his short hair and frowned. “Just don’t believe everything you’re told.”
“Why not?”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Because people lie. All the time. To get what they want. I doubt your Dr. Yang is any different. You should get out of here.”
“I can’t,” she said, even though she wanted to. She wanted to get out and stay out this time. But what she wanted didn’t matter. “I have my duty.”
He snorted and turned away, crossed to the door, but paused and glanced back at her. “Take care of yourself, Destiny.”
Then he was gone.
Chapter Eight
“We are always in a hurry to be happy… for when we have suffered a long time, we have great difficulty in believing in good fortune.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
The door was pushed open from the outside and Destiny jerked upright.
“Why isn’t this door locked?” Dr. Yang’s sharp voice came from the corridor, and Destiny’s shoulders slumped.
Had she really thought Milo had come back? Why would he? He said he liked being alone. But then he probably hadn’t spent 95 percent of his life in his own company.
Dr. Yang was talking to someone on the other side of the door now, but Destiny couldn’t catch all the words—something about the lock being broken.
“Well, get it fixed,” Dr. Yang snapped. “Now.”
She hadn’t slept since Milo had left. Instead, she’d sat staring at the door, knowing it was unlocked and she could step outside at any time. The idea had made her almost light-headed. But as the hours trickled by, she hadn’t approached the door. Hadn’t walked out.
Was she a coward? No, it wasn’t fear that kept her inside.
How could she just walk away from her responsibilities? Whatever Milo had said, she wasn’t here because she was a prisoner. She was here because she had accepted her role in life. As they all had to do if humanity were to survive the changes and challenges facing them. And she was proud to be of service in whatever way she could. Not everyone got the chance.<
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All the same she was aware of her anger simmering close to the surface. Meeting Milo had made her yearn to experience life even more. What harm could it do? At least they could tell her.
Dr. Yang entered the room, her gaze going directly to Destiny.
She squirmed a little. She suspected she was feeling guilty. Up until now, she’d never really done anything to feel guilty about except maybe ask too many questions. Now she had a secret.
Should she tell Dr. Yang about her visitor? The urge to unburden her conscience lasted only a few seconds. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted to be found here last night, and she didn’t want to get him in trouble. Maybe he would come again.
So instead, she forced a smile. “Good morning.” If it even was morning. How was she to tell when she was stuck underground? She blew out her breath; she needed to relax, or Dr. Yang would notice something was wrong. Everything Destiny did was noted and recorded.
“Did you sleep well?”
“In my cell?” The words were out before she could think better of it, and she held her breath waiting for the rebuke.
Dr. Yang shot her a sharp look. “You’re being melodramatic, Destiny. It’s not a cell, just a safe place for you to stay.”
She opened her mouth to ask why she needed a safe place and then she went still. Another figure had entered the room behind Dr. Yang. A man.
He was big, as tall as Milo and broader at the shoulder. He wore a dark green jumpsuit, similar to the men Milo had been hiding from last night, and he had a pistol at his waist. She raised her gaze to his face. He wasn’t beautiful like Milo, but he was smiling. And, unlike most of Dr. Yang’s smiles, his was reflected in his eyes, which were warm and brown. His short hair was brown as well.
“Destiny, this is Silas Wynch. Silas has offered to walk with you for an hour a day so you can get some fresh air and see the new colony.”
She’d been staring at the man, and now she turned to Dr. Yang, a smile tugging at her lips. “I can go out?”
“Of course.” She sounded annoyed. “I told you—you’re not a prisoner. But you’re valuable to us and we care about you. Silas will look after you.”
She was going out. Even if it was just for an hour. She tightened her lips and held her face still; Dr. Yang didn’t like overt signs of emotion. But she was going out. Inside she was fizzing.
Maybe she would see Milo.
She shoved the thought aside. Her future did not include Milo. He’d made that more than clear. Pushing herself to her feet, she nodded to Silas.
“Hello, Mr. Wynch.”
“Call me Silas. And it’s a nice break to go for a walk with a pretty woman.” He held out his hand, and she looked at it for a moment and then stretched out her own slowly. It was engulfed in his bigger one and he shook it vigorously.
She liked Silas. She didn’t feel the same giddy sense of excitement Milo induced in her, but that was probably just as well. She was sure Dr. Yang wouldn’t appreciate giddiness.
“Can we go now?” she asked.
Silas shrugged. “Why not?”
“I will be accompanying you today,” Dr. Yang said.
Destiny was almost sorry about that. She sensed that Silas would be far easier to talk to if he were alone. She would certainly find asking questions easier without Dr. Yang’s disapproving presence—and she had so many questions she wanted to ask. But maybe tomorrow they would be alone.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled on her boots and she was ready to go.
Dr. Yang led the way and she followed, with Silas walking behind her. As they exited the cell, she glanced down the corridor where had they had been carrying the boxes last night. What was in them? What had Milo been doing down here? Obviously, he wasn’t supposed to be there, because otherwise, he wouldn’t have had to hide.
She could see nothing except the corridor leading away and no chance to investigate further as Dr. Yang was already striding in the opposite direction. Destiny hurried to catch up, following her up the stairs and through the doorway into the wide-open hallway with its windows and sunlight. She stood for a moment, looking around. Today there were more people, all moving with purpose. This was life. Things happening.
“You look like you’ve never seen people before,” Silas said, coming up beside her.
“I haven’t. Not really. Well, only yesterday when we came from the ship. It’s wonderful.”
He was looking at her in an odd way. Pretty much as Milo had looked at her last night.
Ahead of them, Dr. Yang came to a halt. She’d likely realized she was leaving them behind. She turned around and frowned. “Come along. We don’t have time to waste.”
Beside her, Silas grinned. “Hey, cut us some slack, Elvira. This is supposed to be fun.”
The frown deepened, which came as no surprise. Dr. Yang believed fun was frivolous. Destiny waited for her to make a comment, but she just turned and walked away. She looked at Silas. He shrugged and they followed.
Out into the bright sunshine.
And she stopped again, just for a brief moment, and raised her face to the sunlight.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was blue shading to violet. She’d seen pictures of the skies on Earth and this was different. So beautiful her chest ached.
This time, instead of the hybrid vehicle they had come in yesterday, they walked to a small dock where a boat was tied up. Silas jumped on board, then helped Dr. Yang, who stepped carefully onto the boat. Then he held out his hand to Destiny. She took it, he tugged, and she jumped, landing on the swaying deck. She fell against him and pressed her hand to his chest to steady herself.
“Destiny!”
She pulled back at Dr. Yang’s stern tone but could feel the smile on her face. This was fun.
Silas let her go then moved to the front of the boat and the engine purred to life. And they were moving, first backward, then they turned and moved gently forward. He looked at her and smiled.
“You want to go for a ride?” he asked.
Oh yes!
As she nodded, he pushed a lever forward, and they were flying across the water.
Chapter Nine
“God is always the last resource.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
Milo sat at the top of the ramp of the shuttle. Not far away, just off to the left, a group of men and women were working on the road that led to the island. They were supervised by more men in the dark green jumpsuits he’d come to recognize designated them as Kinross’s soldiers.
The guards were all armed. The workers wore beige jumpsuits, and most of them didn’t look happy. One, a small, wiry guy with Asian features, dropped the sack he was carrying and turned to the nearest guard.
“I demand to see who is in charge. I should not be doing this work. I paid good money for my place. I didn’t sign up for this.”
“You want to eat,” the guard said, “then you work. No work. No food. We all have to pull our weight in the new world.”
Destiny had said something similar the night before. About duty and pulling together. Milo didn’t agree with it any more now than he had then.
“Sanctimonious bastard,” Dylan muttered, dropping down to sit beside him. He took a swallow from the flask in his hand—Rico had sent them with a good supply of whiskey—and handed it to Milo.
He took a swig, then picked up his knife and the piece of wood he was whittling. Earlier that morning, he’d taken a trip to the forest on the other side of the lake. The trees here were different than on Earth—unsurprisingly—so he didn’t recognize any of the species. But they were trees, and it felt like wood. He’d selected a strong, straight sapling, felling it with his knife.
Much of his power back on Earth had been tied to the Earth elements. Air, earth, water, fire, and he used his wand to magnify and channel those powers, to focus the
m. He had no idea how the powers would transition to this new world. But he could sense an innate magic in the place. While Rico had failed to return his wand, Milo was hoping that if he made a new one out of local wood, it would work here. He had an idea that before this was over, he would be thankful for a bit of magic.
He and Dylan were silent until the road crew moved away, but Milo knew it wouldn’t last. Dylan was a pack animal and he liked to talk.
“So did you find anything last night?” Dylan asked.
“A little. There are tunnels beneath the main building. Looks like they’ve been there a long time—not something new. Kinross is storing something down there. I couldn’t get a look at what, but I’d imagine some sort of weapons. Among other things. I need to take another look.” He thought about Destiny. Locked in a cell for her own protection. And the really tragic thing was she believed that nonsense.
She’d said she was born on the Trakis Four. He hadn’t heard of anyone else born during the trip from Earth. Which didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
“Have you heard of anyone born on the ships since the fleet left Earth?” he asked Dylan.
“No. It would be against fleet regulations. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
She was a mystery. He liked mysteries. And there was something so appealing about her, as though she were a blank canvas that had never been marked. She’d told him that she’d never met anyone else. No one but the doctor who was in charge of her. How could that have been? Why had she never encountered any of the other crew members? Clearly, she had been kept isolated. But why?
Maybe she’d been sick, though she looked healthy now, and besides, that wouldn’t explain why she was locked in a cell beneath Luther Kinross’s castle.
That’s what it reminded him of—a castle.
“What did you think of our new friend, Luther?” Dylan asked.
“Total dickhead.”
“But a dickhead with an agenda. And he’s well prepared. He must have had things in place before the fleet left Earth to be able to take over this smoothly. My guess is the crew of the Trakis Four are on his payroll, and he had some sort of mercenary army on board.”