Forever's Not Enough (Galactic League of Planets) (17 page)

Choosing a loose pair of slacks, he got dressed and slipped a small hand laser into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He’d checked the chairman’s schedule and when he saw the Princess of Meline scheduled for a meeting, he’d smiled. Yes, he knew exactly what would stop them.

He was actually whistling as he walked out his front door.

* * * *

Hill could feel her. It wasn’t like before when he first met her. It was clear, defined. A presence. It was as if she were standing beside him. It was so strong, he turned twice thinking he’d find her standing beside him.

The overwhelming feeling of presence morphed into one of sadness, and it made his chest ache.

“What is it?” he said to the wall. When there was no answer, he balled his fist and slammed it into a cabinet, then yelled like a trapped animal.

“Hey, Sergeant, you okay?”

When he looked up, he found Radd and Lucy standing in the doorway. He resented the intrusion.

“Okay, cowboy.” Lucy pushed past Radd. “Much as I hate it, here’s a uniform.

He turned away from them to pull his khakis on, not out of modesty, but because he thought his tear for Peenzan was too private to share.

Pulling his shirt on, he turned, rubbed his hands together, and said, “Boy, am I glad to see you!”

“Singapore 4? Hell, I was sure it was you. I still remember that night in Singapore we met up with those four…”

“Sorry, Radd. A lot to explain and not much time. And you have to know, this is dangerous. That means we might not make it to Singapore. Ever again. You with us?”

“Hell, asshole, you think I wanna miss out on all the fun? Assholes and elbows, that’s a UC Marine!”

Chapter Seven

Peenzan was surprised. The room was full. All twelve board members were seated, chatting animatedly, the chairman sat stoically at the head of the long table, and she cringed when she counted six fully armed Marines stationed around the huge room.

Standing a little straighter, pushing her shoulders back, fixing the chairman with a stare that said, “Don’t fuck with me Mister,” she strode to her place opposite the director at the long table, Pran a few feet to one side, and stood waiting, watching, and taking measure of her enemy.

The man looked even worse than he had just a few days earlier, if that was possible. His eyes set in black hollows, his cheeks seemed to sag and had a gray tinge to them, and his hands looked unsteady.

Protocol dictated she wait and speak only after being recognized by the secretary. Looking around, she realized the secretary wasn’t present and stifled a moan of impatience.
They’re trying to kill us with the blunt end of bureaucracy. How absolutely cowardly,
she thought.

Looking from Marine to Marine, she tried to read their alertness, tried to measure how quickly they’d react. Reaching into the folds of her robe, she pulled out a sheaf of papers. Her ticket to the head of the table, she hoped.

On each sheet the words, ‘We will not be conquered,’ was printed repeatedly in both Meline and Zandill. It was garbage. An excuse to walk to the other end of the long board room table and get close enough to the chairman to vaporize his head.

She didn’t know who Zad’s spy was. She only knew it was a woman. She surveyed the clerical staff sitting along the outside wall and found no worthy candidates, and just as quickly decided a good spy would never be obvious.

Then she saw him. Standing in a corner with a stupid grin on his face. Crenshaw was watching her every move. It was in his eyes. She recognized it immediately—he’s here to stop me. It only galvanized her resolve.

The chatter around the table swelled into an annoying din and she shut it out completely, turning instead to the soft ripple of her purr. He’s near, she realized, and she looked around the room with renewed alertness. He’s calm and full of purpose and moving. Like a knife, it stabbed her heart—he can feel me. He’s concerned.

“Don’t be,” she whispered and hoped to Bast he heard.

* * * *

He’d heard a sound like it once when he was a child visiting an aunt and uncle on earth. It was like a wisp of wind blowing through leaves. A whisper so faint he thought he’d imagined it. But it still made his heart pound.

Radd and Lucy had taken the lead and he slouched along close behind to keep his face hidden as much as possible. Radd had explained that he’d been cleared of all charges of terrorism and murder, but just so they could keep looking for him, he was now wanted for going AWOL.

The plan was forced on them by time constraints and was rudimentary at best. Lucy knew that a small fleet of lightbeam ships had already been sent to both planets carrying nuclear-based explosive devices big enough to crack a planet wide open. They were affectionately known as planet busters. She also knew that if they didn’t stop the Corporation immediately, there would be no reason to try.

Three people, three weapons, and four people to kill. At least. Lucy also explained that there was a meeting of the complete board this morning and that this would be their best opportunity. They’d agreed that once the first shot was fired, everyone was on their own. Once they had four kills, they would each retreat as best they could and try to make it to Meline or Zandill.

So far so good, he thought when they waltzed through the main corporation reception area, Lucy smiling and saying something about being late. When they stepped into the long hall that lead to the boardroom, Radd swung a hand behind his back and snapped his fingers. The call to snap to attention, to be careful. Glancing around Radd’s head, he saw two UC Marines stationed outside the door to the boardroom.

He ducked back and they kept walking.

“Morning, Sir!”

“At ease, men.”

This was the tricky part. This was when they could lose the advantage of surprise.

He saw Lucy’s hand leave her side and knew she was flashing her ID card. He kept his head down and stopped behind Radd.

“Oh, they’re with me.”

“Sorry, ma’am, orders. Special meeting…”

The moment Radd stepped right, Hill stepped left, both of them landing stun chops to the base of the neck of their opponents. When the two Marines slumped, they caught them before they could make a lot of noise when their equipment hit the deck.

“Give me five minutes, then come in shootin’,” whispered Lucy. She was gone and the heavy doors clicked shut behind her.

Radd looked at his watch, held up five fingers, and grabbed one of the fallen guards, looking for a place to hide the body. One minute later, Radd held up four fingers and they both took up position where the guards had been standing.

* * * *

She watched the woman rush past and stop to lean close to the chairman and whisper something in his ear. The man smiled lecherously and rocked in his chair.
The man is filth incarnate.

Was that a grimace, an involuntary flinch? She followed the woman’s eyes and found Crenshaw smiling blithely.

“Yes, sorry I’m late. This meeting of the board of directors of the United Corporation is now officially called to order. As our first order of business, we will now hear from Princess…” she said, and the woman stopped, looked up from her notes in surprise, before going on as if uncertain about something, “…Princess Peenzan of the planet Meline, who is here to discuss the unjust invasion of her planet by the Zandill people. Princess, if you’d like to begin.”

“The Meline people thank the UC board once again for their patience and diligence in this matter. Before I begin, I have some reports I’d like to have distributed if I…”

“Princess, I see no need for reports,” the chairman’s voice dripped with impatience. “Just more Meline propaganda, if you ask me. I think we all know…”

No, I have no problem whatsoever with killing this man.

“Mr. Chairman, I apologize for interrupting,” she returned, and she drummed her nails on the hardwood table top impatiently. “But I believe I’ve been recognized by this board, and by law have a right to finish my plea.”

She unblinkingly stared the chairman into submission, and smiled inwardly when he waved his hand and barked, “Well! Get on with it then!”

Picking up the stack of papers with her left hand, she started around the corner of the table and allowed herself one last selfish moment as she enjoyed the gentle purr in her chest.

Two strides later, right hand slipped inside her robe where her fingers found the end of her lightstick, she tugged gently.

Then everything seemed to slow down and jump out at her in close relief.

Just as she made it to the head of the table, her eyes swept the space around the chairman. Empty but for the woman that had come in late and opened the meeting. She looked into the woman’s eyes and read concern.

She heard the boardroom doors open with a loud bang and saw concern turn to urgency, and looked away from the woman.

Then she heard heavy boots running just as she turned the corner of the table and raised her stack of papers to place them in front of the chairman. Finding the man’s eyes, she saw him looking down the long table and saw fear.

Pulling the lightstick into the open just as she turned her head to see what was happening, she saw two Marines, one on each side of the long table, weapons up and pointed, running toward her.

She turned back to the chairman just as a shot rang out and the man’s head exploded in a shower of blood and bone.

She froze, and out of the corner of her eye she caught Crenshaw jumping to his feet, his hand digging inside his jacket.

Her head jerked back and she looked at the Marines a second time. This time she saw him, and in her excitement, her lightstick slipped from her fingers.

The movie moved so slow in her head that it was all a swirl of bodies floating around her in freefall. His jaw was set and his soft gentle eyes took on an edge. She marveled at the strength in his arm as he raised a small shiny handgun and carefully, even patiently, took aim.

With the next shot another head exploded halfway down the table.

She found his eyes and when he looked up she smiled. His mouth moved, his lips angry curls, and he looked past her.

Then another shot and the Marine on the other side of the table, the one she didn’t know, fell.

A hand on her arm and she spun to find Crenshaw’s face inches from hers. Her lightstick gone, she struck with the only weapon left and took pleasure in his grimace as her nails raked across his face leaving bloody furrows in their wake.

Another shot, another board member died.

He was at her side, his face twisted in rage, his weapon raised, a shot rang out and Crenshaw’s head exploded.

His arm was around her waist and he was dragging her. Her purr was deep and constant, and in the midst of bedlam, she smiled contentedly and raked her fingers through the hair on his bare arm.

The woman behind the chairman was on her feet, a gun in hand, and another board member’s chest erupted in a deep crimson bloom beneath his starched white shirt.

Hill was hugging her to his body and running back down the long table.

Then she saw the wicked black barrel of someone else’s gun come up and point. She couldn’t let it happen, she couldn’t let her one true love, her mate for life, die at the hands of her enemy.

Pulling on his big hand she twisted from behind the protective shield his arm and stepped to the right just as the angry black barrel glowed with a burst of super heated plasma that tore into her chest and Peenzan, Princess of Meline and loving mate to a simple earthling, thanked Bast for making her quick enough to save him.

She managed to look up one last time and smile into his eyes before the life left her own.

* * * *

Hill watched the proceedings without interest and listened without hearing. It had no meaning. Nothing had any meaning. No matter who he asked, God or Peenzan’s beloved Bast, he found no meaning to any of it.

He’d sat in a cell for two days and thought. Not empty thoughts, not thoughts of escape or revenge. He didn’t even contemplate his own death, which he was sure, would come quickly.

He thought of her, of his Peenzan, and spoke with her quietly.

The guard’s D ran incessantly and he was, once again, the center of attention throughout the galaxy. His stature had gone from mere terrorist to mastermind. Given the death of Radd and Lucy, he knew they needed someone’s face to put behind the heinous deed.

And now he sat shackled to the floor watching a bunch of bureaucrats argue over whether he should be tried on UC-1 or shipped back to earth. He knew it had nothing to do with jurisdiction, or for that matter, what the law might dictate. It was all about media coverage. Where could the Corporation get the most favorable media coverage?

He hadn’t seen her come in, and when Pran caught his eye and smiled, he couldn’t help but smile back. It wasn’t his Princess, but it was a Meline and it made him happy.

Then it was over. He had no idea what had been decided and didn’t care. His shackles were released from the floor and two guards poked him until he moved toward the back of the room where he’d be rushed off and locked up.

Just before he got to the exit, he felt a hand on his forearm and looked down to find a smiling Pran being shoved away.

“Not worry, all be okay.”

He smiled at her accented English and trudged through the doors into the relative quiet of the holding area.

Once safe in his cell, his shackles removed, he lay on the scratchy wool blanket that covered his bunk and stare at the ceiling, conjuring her image in the smudges and scratches he found there.

Late at night, when the guard finally turned off his D, propped his feet on his table, and let his head nod against his chest, he would hear her laughing and whispering softly to him.

“You mustn’t worry, my love.”

He’d smile and listen again. He knew what she’d say next. She always said the same things.

“You must come to me, my love. You must bring your heart to me.”

“Yes,” he’d whisper, “I’ll be there soon.”

Then, sometime between the shadows of the night that never fell on a beam-ship, and the first glimmer of sol, that, in kind, never warmed his face, he’d make himself go to sleep just because he knew she was waiting there for him. There in his dreams.