by L H Whitlock
The Keeper gave her a sympathetic look and shook her head. “So tragic,” she said then slammed the door behind her.
Lily waited until the woman left the suite then pulled out the pick she hid in her shoe and easily worked the lock loose. So simple. The generals often had low security and insufficient restraints. Dumb bastards. Maybe we should just bust through Golan’s base ship next. She left the room and entered back into the bedroom. A stripped bed sat up against the wall in the center of the room with a pile of neatly folded linen placed on top. The room lacked décor, the window provided the only light and its brightness was fading quickly. The window was high and long, making Lily wonder what the purpose of this room once was. Beside the bed was a nightstand and a thin, lumpy white carpet accented the porcelain floor.
Lily rummaged through the nightstand until she found a metal box she could use to break the window. Dragging the table beneath the window, she held her breath as squeals filled the room. She hopped onto the table, clutched the box firmly and slammed it into the glass over and over again. The window cracked and chipped beneath her attack before finally shattering, littering the ground outside in shards of glass. Adjusting the box, she chipped away at the shards that clung to its perimeter.
The elevator door slid open with a slight ding. Lily glanced up just as Ulrick stepped out. His eyes locked onto her and with a startled curse, he ran toward her.
Lily grabbed onto the ledge and launched herself out. She gasped, her stomach lurching as she realized how far the drop actually was. Tucking her knees to her chest, Lily curled up and waited for the impact. Warmth embraced her, wrapping her in a cocoon of power and she was placed gently on the sandy ground. Lily lay dazed on the ground staring up at the window. Ulrick watched from the opening with a heated gaze, his body too large to fit through.
Shame and embarrassment swept over her as she pushed herself to her feet. She stared up at him, her fingers smoothing over the box still clutched in her hand. What the hell is wrong with me? Stop staring at him and move! Tucking the metal box into her shorts, she pulled her eyes off Ulrick, turned, and sprinted toward the crumbling city.
18
Lily ran, each step feeling as though she were stuck in mud. An inward battle claimed her, her mind told her to get the hell out of there, but her heart told her to return to Ulrick, that she was meant to be at his side.
She leapt over a fallen stone column, landed awkwardly, and fell. The impact sent jolts of pain up her hip and her elbow stung as a rock sliced into it. Come on! Pull yourself together!
Standing, she shook off the feelings of guilt, shame, and an overwhelming sadness. She needed to focus. The first sun had already begun to dip below the horizon and she would have to move quickly to make it to the meeting point before the Varlies came out.
The second sun was fading away as she reached the hide-out. Her eyes watered, her sweat-drenched clothes clung to her skin and her legs burned from hours of running. She wasn’t only physically exhausted but she was in emotional turmoil as well, though she didn’t know why. She threw herself through the wobbly revolving door and into the crippled hotel. The door spun with a high-pitched groan that bounced off the vaulted ceilings. She paused, her heart seizing as she waited for the echo to stop.
Looking across the chipped marble, dusty tables, and deserted desks, she determined that she was alone and made her way to the stairwell. Yanking open the door, she climbed with tired limbs. Why did Brock have to choose the 50th floor? They would be just as safe on the 25th. Damn cyborg is out to kill me.
As she reached the hideout she broke down the already unlocked door, just for good measure. Looks like the same shit as level twenty five. She grumbled to herself and made her way down the hallway of dusty blue carpet and peeling wallpaper.
Brock and Vincent looked up at her from the floor as she entered. The room had an overall tan appearance, not because the color scheme was monochromatic, but because a thin layer of dirt covered every surface. The carpet was thick, leaving a slight indent with each step she took and the smell of mildew and dust clogged her senses. A floral-patterned sheet covered the window and the glow of Brock’s RAB cast elongated shadows over the room.
Vincent lay on the floor, his long black hair splaying around his head in a halo and his pale skin tinted pink where blood once flowed. Dark bags drooped beneath his eyes and his chapped, swollen lips burned a deep red. His left leg was wrapped in a makeshift cast designed using slivers of wood and torn clothing.
Lily fell to the floor, wrapping her arms around the bruised man.
Vincent laughed weakly. “Lily…I’m so sorry…I-I tried but...” His voice was raspy, his eyelids fluttering with fatigue.
Lily brushed a strand of hair out of Vincent’s pale face. “No! Don’t apologize. I saw what they did to you! It is okay, we survived the ambush. It wasn’t your fault.”
Vincent was silent for several moments then streams of tears fell from his eyes. “I didn’t tell them anything else, I swear it. I wouldn’t do that to you. I didn’t tell them a damn thing more.”
Lily leaned over and kissed his forehead, then folded a dusty towel and tucked it under his head. “Shh. Shh. It’s okay. Just get some rest.” She tried her best to hide the worry in her eyes, but knew her long-time friend could see her every emotion.
Nodding he closed his eyes, his breath deepening almost immediately.
Lily sat down next to Brock and looked out of the window. “How is he?” she asked.
“Not good and we won’t be able to make the trip tomorrow.”
“Shit. Have you spoken with Gloria?”
“Yeah, I still can’t hear a damn thing,” he said, twisting his pinky finger in his ear.
Lily chuckled thinking of how high-pitched Gloria’s squeal must have been. “I bet she was super excited.”
“So…he is the one who told Golan we would be on Alvernon?”
Lily sighed. “I don’t know. It seemed like it. I saw him get tortured. He kept saying he told them everything he knew…”
“Fuck. I knew something had to have happened. Well, if he had told them anything more, something would have happened by now.”
Lily stared at Brock for several moments, trying to read his eyes. “So you believe him then?”
“Of course, you don’t?”
“I didn’t say that,” Lily mumbled. “I have to call Gloria, let her know where to meet us tomorrow.”
“Can she even fly the ship? Oh, your bag’s over there, by the way.” Brock motioned to his left.
Lily dug through her bag. “Hopefully.” She secured her RAB onto her arm, reveling at the instant feeling of relief and control, and punched in a message to Gloria. “I’m going to get changed,” she called over her shoulder to Brock.
Once she entered into the small bathroom she pulled off the muddy crop top, wiggled out of the sweaty shorts, and sighed, thankful to be free of the smelly outfit. She dipped a towel into one of the water buckets and wiped her face. The cuts on her arms and legs stung beneath the rough towel as she wiped herself clean. She was brought out of her thoughts when a cold metallic arm wrapped around her waist.
“Not now Brock,” Lily said, suddenly feeling anxious.
“Don’t worry, Vincent’s passed out. He won’t see a thing.” He placed a wet kiss on her neck.
“I’m sore and tired. I just want to lie down.” As soon as she said it, she realized it wasn’t just an excuse.
“Fine. Can you take first watch?” Brock strolled away with a huff, not waiting for her answer.
“Uh, sure.” She rolled her eyes. Why is he being such a jerk?
She walked across the creaky floor, stopped briefly to check on Vincent’s bandages, then ducked behind the window curtain. She activated her site lenses and looked out toward the prison. The guards were retreating back into the fortress to avoid the Varlie, their growls, howls, and roars sliced through the crisp night air.
She sighed, her body felt hypersensitive and achy an
d her mind was distracted by memories of the kitchen and the box she had stolen. She waited silently until she could hear Brock’s soft snores then darted across the room to retrieve her souvenir.
Guilt settled heavy in her stomach, making her feel nauseous. What is wrong with me? I know I’m not feeling this way because I stole the box. So what is it? Her fingers trailed over her arm as she remembered Ulrick’s markings merging with hers. How do they even do that?
She grabbed the shorts from the bathroom, sat in front of the window and dug out the antique box. It was old, with ornate engravings and the corners were tarnished with age. The latch had broken open and she gently lifted the cover, careful not to dump the items all over the floor. She lined them along the windowsill before examining each closer. There were three gem coins, a note written in ancient Hilian, a necklace, and a map. The note was written in ancient curvy symbols. Ja’ Keo Gruna. The word cycled through her head again and again and she scanned the document for anything resembling the phrase. Maybe Gloria can read it. She shrugged helplessly then folded the note back up to tuck safely away in her pocket.
Picking up the map she studied the worn ink and brittle paper. Stars, planets, and coordinates littered the page. She was able to make out a few of the names but none seemed familiar to her. Slipping the map into her pocket, she picked up the necklace and ran her fingers over the thin slices of rock that were strung, pressing close to one another on a string. She found herself counting them as she examined the different colors and textures. Each appeared to be from a different place. One caught her eye: Fuchsia. There was only one place she knew that had Fuchsia rocks, a moon to the planet P-908; a popular romantic getaway. Another had spirals of green inside orange granite. This was from V’ugra, a planet that was harvested over one hundred rotations ago. Beautiful. It was as if the necklace had chips of rock from every planet. She latched the colorful necklace around her neck and felt a strange comfort in its weight.
19
Ulrick paced across his room, yelling at the Keeper. The short plump woman stood between two K’lors, her head bowed. A few guards lingered next to the door, their bodies pressed against the wall as though they hoped to blend with it.
“I’m so sorry Master Ulrick. I had no idea she could escape.” The woman’s voice gave away her confusion.
“Not only have you allowed a commander of the Renegade to escape, you failed to follow my specific instructions. I told you to secure her in my chamber.”
The Keeper dipped her head even lower. “But I-I cuffed her in your chambers, to a pole…How did she…”
Ulrick growled, his fists clenched at his sides. He took a moment to breathe. He wanted to kill the woman, he rightfully should. His nails dug into his palms as he glanced over to Lily’s holographic form, her aqua eyes burning into him, and her innocent expression making his knees weak. He ground his teeth. He couldn’t kill this idiotic woman. He couldn’t bear the look his mate would give him, even if it were just a hologram. He had done many things he wasn’t proud of and it turned his stomach to think of disappointing Lily. “Have they retrieved her?” he asked the guards.
They shook their heads.
“Get out.”
The three crowded out of the door. Ulrick didn’t calm down until he heard the elevator close and he was alone. He walked over to the shattered window. The narrow opening had prevented him from following, not that he needed to. The tracking beacon he had placed on Lily in the kitchen would keep him informed on her location. Luckily she hadn’t noticed the micro-bug crawling up her leg and attaching itself to the back of her thigh.
His Kenslieg had stopped moving, leaving him feeling agitated and empty. She must be out of range. When he saw her, his markings had flared to life in a rush of heat that spread across his entire body. That was how he was able to see past her disguise. He had felt her in the torture chamber as well, but couldn’t risk the chance of exposing her. Yanking open the end table, he searched for the metal box that held the Grun’Jari. It was missing. His nostrils flared. How are all of Golan’s servants incapable of even the simplest of tasks?
“Ulrick, may I enter?”
Ulrick turned to see his friend Mickaal standing in the doorway and nodded briefly to him.
“You have been acting strange, my friend. What bothers you?” Mickaal asked as he entered the room.
The men took seats around a coffee table. “That girl, the one from dinner,” Ulrick said, “is my Ja’ Keo Gruna.”
Mickaal stared at him for several moments, his grin slowly growing until it dominated his face.
“My friend! This is great news.” Mickaal slapped Ulrick’s arm. “I thought you would be Jen’Kroga, without a mate. Who is she?
“She is with the Renegade. Her name is Lily.” He rolled her name off his tongue, savoring the taste.
“The girl you had me pull files on?” Mickaal asked. “You dirty bastard.”
Ulrick grinned. “Yes, I apologize I could not disclose why I needed the footage.”
“So, she’s with the Renegade then?”
“Yes, they recruited her from a refugee camp when she was a youngling.” Ulrick gazed at the broken window and wondered how far his little mate had gotten, or if she was hurt.
Mickaal eyed the window. “My…she certainly is destructive, a quality you two seem to share.”
Ulrick grinned. “I am not destructive. I believe that is a trait my mate has on her own.”
Mickaal raised a brow. “Then what happened in the dining room? They are still cleaning up after the mess you made.”
A smile pulled at Ulrick’s lips. “I may have lost my temper for a brief moment.”
Mickaal frowned. “We should search for her tonight. She will not expect you to come for her this quickly. I’m surprised you let her get away.”
“She jumped from the bloody window,” Ulrick growled. “I barely had time to cushion her fall.” With a negligent wave of his hand he said, “I secured a Micro-bug to her.”
Mickaal’s eyes widened. “Is she ill in the mind? She could have gotten herself killed, jumping from a window like that. You must reprimand her.”
A fantasy played out in Ulrick’s mind. “Oh…I already know the perfect punishment.”
Mickaal laughed. “Who are you kidding, she’ll have you wrapped around her finger, just as Silra has me.”
“Do not!” Silra said, her voice light with laughter. “Good evening, Ulrick. Sorry to intrude, but I missed my mate.”
Ulrick nodded to Silra and motioned for her to sit down.
Silra avoided the chair he offered and sat on Mickaal’s knee, giving the tall man a kiss on the cheek. Ulrick was happy his friend had found her, they complemented each other perfectly. Silra had a sweet, round face surrounded in an abundance of light brown hair. She wore a dress that flowed around ample curves and soft, gray eyes.
Silra smiled at Ulrick and said, “I heard a slave escaped from your suite.”
“Not a slave, his Ja’ keo Gruna,” Mickaal corrected.
Silra squealed. “Ulrick! This is wonderful! I can’t wait to meet her. Oh, I hope she can handle you.”
“Don’t worry,” Mickaal said motioning to the window. “I think it’s Ulrick who will have his hands full.”
Silra laughed. “What did she take?”
“She took a box that held a few relics from my home world and my Grun’Jari.”
“Oh no!” Silra gasped.
“It does not matter. It is meant for her. I will add the next few stones when I find her.” Looking up he asked, “Silra, would you allow Mickaal and me a moment.”
“Of course.” Silra slid off Mickaal’s knee, planted a kiss on his forehead, and headed out the door.
Ulrick waited until she left. “Inside the box was also a map of Aray-1038 and a copy of the treaty with the Developers.”
Mickaal’s brow creased with concern. “Have you alerted the Developers? If there has been a breach in confidentiality we need to have them move the planet
. If Golan hears anything and grows suspicious we will lose any advantage we may have had.” Mickaal pulled out a Holo-tablet, entered in a pass code, and pulled up a map of Aray-1038. The engineered planet floated in front of them, its image obscured every now and then when its moon passed in front of it.
“If we move the planet then our efforts would be delayed,” Ulrick mused.
“Delayed is better than destroying the colony,” Mickaal replied.
“I think it’s about time we approached Rowan and the Renegade about the mission and see if they are willing to assist.”
Mickaal paused, hands cupped under his face as he thought about the wayward alliance. “Actually, allies wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I know we wanted to keep it internal but my calculations still show that we will be outmatched. We are relying on surprise to fuel the mission. Having the Renegade alongside us will only better our odds.”
Ulrick nodded. “I agree. It will be difficult getting a meeting with Rowan.”
“You need to try to retrieve your mate. If you can convince her to join our efforts then we will have a better chance at getting an audience with Rowan. I’ll leave with you tomorrow to help you locate her and I’ll put a no-kill order out to my troops with a handsome reward if they bring her to you unharmed.”
“Thank you, my friend. We will have freedom for our people soon.”
Mickaal nodded. “Meet at the dock in four hours,” he said as the elevator closed behind them.
Ulrick leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. Freedom, alliance, and a mate, the words seemed foreign to him. When he had joined Golan he was suddenly cast into a life where he was forced to fight alongside the enemy, but his people would be safe and prosper. Even back then Golan’s army was unmatched. The strength, numbers, and technology did not exist to defeat him. He had been forced to align with Golan to save Hilia. His people could grow powerful and build alliances until they would one day be strong enough to destroy Golan. It was the only way to beat him.
