Authors: Tracy St. John
In addition to all the security that kept the tracker from being removed, its signal could be picked up anywhere on the planet. Then instant Noelle’s disappearance had been learned, someone should have been able to detect her whereabouts as long as she within 50,000 miles of the sensors. With the Royal Guards set to check in on her every hour, they would have known in plenty of time to search for her before she got out of range.
Yet somehow that scenario hadn’t happened. The situation was so unforeseen, so unbelievable, that Tasha didn’t know how Emperor Bevau or even the entire Global Security force might find them. Would it cross their minds to search for Noelle on Lobam?
Keeping her tone far more optimistic than she felt, Tasha told Noelle, “Everyone will be looking for you, Noelle. They will tear the galaxy apart to find you. It may take a little while, so I need you to be patient and brave.”
“Will they find me tomorrow?” Noelle’s unhappy glance around the containment area said she thought that amount of time would be an eternity.
Tasha tried to stay upbeat. “Maybe not tomorrow. But soon, I think.”
She looked at the poles powering the containment field again. Tasha couldn’t count on help, not in the face of the astounding abduction. She’d have to get Noelle out on her own somehow.
The blond woman had joined them. She watched Tasha carefully, as if weighing her mood.
“What’s your name?” Tasha asked.
“Sonia.”
“How long have you been in this place?”
“I think close to two years.” Sonia’s voice was flat, as if the length of time in captivity had stolen her soul.
Tasha saw the attention she continued to receive from the patrolling Nobeks. They leered at her, their gazes running up and down her body. She swallowed and lowered her voice. “How close are we to any settlements?”
Sonia crooked a brow. “Not close enough that anyone has found us in all this time. I think one of the guards once said Nalta City is about 30 minutes’ flight away in a standard shuttle.”
“No homes nearby? Nothing?”
“The Basma’s property is in an exclusive area. No one comes around here. If he’s got neighbors, they keep out.”
“That doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” Tasha mused. “Maybe even close by. If we escaped, we might find help.”
Sonia looked at her but said nothing. There was no hope on that worn face.
Tasha saw the patrolling Nobeks come to alert attention. Their pacing as they walked up and down the perimeter became more purposeful. They glared at the few women who had come outside, growling softly, as if to warn them off.
“What’s with the display?” she muttered to Sonia.
“Someone important must be coming. Yep, the Basma’s right hand man is coming this way with Ket.”
Tasha looked in the direction Sonia stared. She saw a handsome Nobek striding down a path to the right of the shuttle landing pad. He was tall, close to seven feet. His sleek sheet of black hair hung down almost to his elbows. He wore a smirk that Tasha thought looked full of self-satisfaction.
It wasn’t the Nobek that drew a gasp from Tasha, however. It was the man with the familiar face walking at his side.
She said, “Dramok Sitrel? Councilman – I mean the former Councilman Maf’s aide?”
Hatred disturbed Sonia’s bland expression for a moment. “We’re on Maf’s property. He owns a huge amount of land here on Lobam. He’s the Basma.”
Tasha thought Sonia must be trying to joke. “You must be kidding. That poor, bent-up man—?”
Sonia’s face resumed its expressionless look. “From what I’ve been able to gather in the two years I’ve been here, that ‘poor, bent-up man’ has followers who treat him like Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed all rolled into one. He’s not just the leader of the revolt, he’s their fucking messiah.”
Tasha thought of Dramok Maf, one of the most respected men of the Empire. True, he’d walked out of the Royal Council with several other elected officials. They’d done so in protest of the rest voting to pardon former Emperor Yuder after he’d been convicted of treason. Maf had also been an advocate of keeping Kalquor pure of Earther influence. But he was seen as a basically reasonable man, one who was willing to listen to all sides before drawing any conclusions. A man passionate about defending those conclusions once he’d made them, but still rational just the same.
Maf could not be the Basma. It was as unthinkable as Noelle being abducted from Kalquor.
Tasha spluttered her disbelief. “This can’t be!”
Sonia’s hand on her arm squeezed tight. “Keep your voice down! Trust me, you do not want to attract anyone’s attention. Especially not Nobek Ket. He’s in charge of this place and crazy loyal to Maf.”
In her shock, Tasha didn’t spare the tall Nobek nearing the enclosure a thought. Her mind still whirled around the revelation that the brilliant Maf could be the leader of a deadly revolt bent on destroying the Empire. “But – but even though Maf’s on the outs with the Royal Council and Imperial Clan, he’s still esteemed by most of the Empire.”
Sonia gave her a derisive snort. “Yeah, well he’s got a gift for fooling people, don’t he? Grabbing the princess and nobody knowing it’s him is going to put him in the driver’s seat for sure.”
Tasha had not thought she could be more horrified than when she’d discovered they had been taken from Kalquor. She could not imagine the situation being any worse. However, as Sitrel walked by, sneering at her from the other side of the containment field, she had a new, unwelcome awareness.
If Sitrel was not afraid to show himself to her and Noelle, if he had no fear that they knew Maf was the Basma, then that could only mean one thing. The Basma had no intention of returning them to Kalquor.
He might even be planning to kill Tasha and Noelle.
Dramok Falinset sat working at his wide, curved wood desk in his office. All was quiet save for the sounds of nature outside, fed in by the window vids set in the walls. The high-pitched call of the leathery-winged vasis were a musical counterpoint to the breeze sighing through the trees. Vents brought in the scent of the sea, only a mile away. If Falinset couldn’t be outside, he would at least give himself the illusion that he was.
Not that his office was uncomfortable. It was in his home and as private as a man could wish. His clanmates were somewhere else in the house, granting him the solitude to do his work. Falinset would not have minded their company. While he strove to keep most others at bay, Nobek Wekniz and Imdiko Nur were always welcome.
However, he tended to be boring when he researched a fresh prospect. Wekniz and Nur did not share Falinset’s love for discovering a new business venture, investigating its potential for success, and anonymously investing if it looked promising. Possessing an uncanny instinct for such things, Falinset liked to tell his clanmates he could smell success in the making. With accounts that allowed his clan to live sequestered for the most part, there were few who would challenge his assessment of his abilities – had they known what he was worth. Falinset let his few mistakes slip out to those who were interested in such things, but he kept quiet the multitudes of winning gambles he took.
Clan Falinset was only poor in the way it mattered most. Material possessions were not among the things they lacked. The home was modest but well-built on Lobam where free-standing structures were allowed. Their parcel of land was large and ended half a mile from the beach. Wekniz often found game to hunt in the thick woods that took up most of the acreage. When he wasn’t on duty at the fire prevention headquarters in Nalta City, he enjoyed roaming among the trees, tracking and catching much of the meat they ate.
Nur enjoyed luxury more than the other two men, but even he took more delight in finding a bargain than paying for things at full price. His ‘treasure hunts’ at consignment and second-sale stores were the source of great delight for the Imdiko. Such places in Nalta City knew him by name and often put things aside for him to buy and carry home. Finding a rare piece of art or classic piece of designer clothing in his or Falinset’s sizes never failed to give Nur a sense of triumph.
Though it was clear the clan lacked for nothing, few people acquainted with them had any idea how well off they were. They preferred it that way. Keeping secrets was a way of life for the three men.
Falinset narrowed his eyes at the description of a company that had caught his eye. They promised that within two years they could completely terraform a planet lacking atmosphere within a star’s lifebelt range. How could that be possible? Terraforming was a chancy and expensive matter. If a planet or moon had no atmosphere to start with, the odds were not good within even a decade.
If this company had found a way, it would be worth an insane amount of money to investors. Not that Falinset cared about money. He just enjoyed being one of the first to see the promise of a new endeavor and being a part of making it happen.
He read over the proposal. His eyes widened as he saw the first project the company proposed.
“Earth Two? A new home planet for those people?” he whispered wonderingly.
Falinset quickly paged through the documentation on his computer, wondering who else was in on such an insane-sounding scheme. His heart went into overdrive to see familiar names among the sponsors.
“Dramok Ospar and Dramok Rajhir. So that’s what you two schemers have been up to since you were barred from public service. Dramok Diltan too? Ancestors, this is huge.”
If men like Ospar, Rajhir, and Diltan were on board for this Earth Two project, then it was almost certainly a done deal. The Imperial Clan might also be in the thick of such a plan, though they would pursue such an interest quietly. Huge didn’t begin to cover it.
Falinset paged back to the scientific specifications of the company’s first project, but he already knew he’d take a stake in it. He knew the other investors by reputation only – particularly the wily Ospar who always seemed to be barely one step ahead of trouble. He and Rajhir had been fingered in the charges of abducting Earther women, the same charges that had put the Empire in so much conflict as of late. Despite it being clear to anyone with half a brain how guilty they’d been, the pair had walked with no more than losing some money and prestigious government positions. Maybe they had done what they had with the best of intentions, as they’d sworn. That didn’t change the fact they had helped bring on a war with Earth. The planet was now a dead rock in the universe, incapable of sustaining most forms of life.
Falinset grinned. Even a guilty conscience wouldn’t convince a rogue like Dramok Ospar to sink a small fortune into a project like a new home planet for the displaced Earthers who’d survived. The science and company had to be rock solid. Falinset would do his research, but there was no doubt he was in. His heart galloped with excitement to think he’d be part of bringing an entire planet to life.
He settled into his hover chair, bringing up the leg rest and taking its temperature down a couple of degrees for comfort. He sighed and started to read about the newly created AED – atmosphere establishing device – that would be part of the first steps of creating Earth Two.
He’d no sooner brought up the specifications when he heard the sound of the front door’s announce. Nur’s voice drifted to him and a lighter, female voice responded. Falinset froze.
She didn’t dare come here, not after last time. Falinset had made it abundantly clear she was no longer welcome in his home.
Yet the light footsteps coming down the hall were not Nur’s tread. As Falinset’s mother Feyom breezed into the room as if she thought herself a wanted guest, Falinset rose to his feet. He did not bow however, purposely insulting her.
Feyom wasn’t looking at him anyway. As usual she took in the state of his office, the well-made but secondhand furnishings Nur had gleefully collected, the computer with its multiple readouts hovering in the air over the cluttered desk, and the large window vids that afforded Falinset of the many views of woods and dunes and trails surrounding his home. The way her nose wrinkled said Feyom was not impressed.
With a long-suffering sigh, she finally turned her gaze to her son. She was greeted by his glare. It was her turn to freeze, a moment of unease flickering in her eyes before she switched to the cold expression Falinset knew all too well.
As if they hadn’t parted with shouts the last time, she gave him a put-out tone. “Well, my son. No greeting for your mother?”
“Hello. Now goodbye,” he bit out.
She rolled her eyes. Instead of getting the hell out of his life as he wanted her to, Feyom sank daintily in the overstuffed seat in front of his desk. She didn’t so much sit as float down.
Graceful. Stunning in her aloof manner. As usual Falinset had to marvel at how a despicable creature like Feyom could present such a lovely front. His anger surged at himself for admiring the image she projected despite knowing what the woman was.
She gazed up at him, her confidence in her unassailability as a rare Kalquorian Matara firmly in place. She sniffed at his offense. “After all your fathers and I paid for tutors and manservants to raise you with some notion of decorum—”
Falinset spat out, “They aren’t my fathers, and you’ve never paid for anything in your life. I owe you nothing. Get out.”