by S. E. Smith
Destin turned to see their grim faces. There was no proof that the missing women Tim had just told him about were victims of a crime, but he wanted to make sure.
“What do we know? I want facts only, no speculation – yet,” Destin said.
“They were working in different parts of the city under construction. Six were working with the rebuilding. They were near the old downtown area. Three more worked in Food Services and Clerical Support, so they commuted every day to the Trivator base,” Tim said, nodding at the map showing the last known location of the women.
“What about the last one?” Destin asked, walking closer to the map to study it.
“Her name is Alissa Garcia. She’s a thirty-eight year old Hispanic female with about ten years under her belt with the Chicago Police Department before the world went to hell. I worked with her on several cases when I was with the force. As you know, over the last year, I’ve been able to recruit those in the force that haven’t fled or died. We’ve got about one hundred and fifty of our old force back together and about two hundred new recruits that we’re training. I hate to admit it, but Cutter was a huge help in that. He sent men to help train us on the new transports and other equipment. Alissa was working closely with the Trivators to train the recruits. She disappeared a couple of days ago. No one has seen or heard from her since.”
“Who was the last person to see her?” Destin asked.
Richard hesitated and glanced around the table at the other men. His lips tightened for a moment before he released a deep sigh and glanced down at the table.
“Cutter,” Richard finally admitted with a grimace. “She was last seen with the Trivator.”
“I knew it! None of them can be trusted,” Jason exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the dark table. “They give us all of this while kidnapping women from right under our noses.”
“We don’t know if he had anything to do with Alissa’s disappearance. Cutter was a huge supporter of the rebuilding of Chicago and our law enforcement,” Richard protested, turning to glare at Jason.
“Each of those areas is littered with aliens,” Mike pointed out.
“Yeah, and there are a lot of humans working there, too. We could be dealing with a serial killer for all we know,” Richard argued.
“Why are you defending them, Richard? You know what they did over on Colbert’s side. The women were shipped off world as fast as they could grab them,” Troy pointed out.
“And we have found more than half of the missing women and returned them,” a steely voice from the door stated. “Destin.”
Destin drew up to his full five foot eleven inches. While he wasn’t as tall as the Trivators, years of hard work had made him almost as broad. One thing he’d learned during his trip across the galaxy and back: he could hold his own against most of them.
“Cutter,” Destin greeted.
All of the men stood and turned to face Cutter. The man glanced around the room, his face a calm mask. Destin had no doubt that Cutter had heard what they were discussing. A Trivator’s senses were more sensitive than a human’s – something that Trig had unhappily pointed out several hours ago.
“Where’s Trig?” Cutter inquired, glancing around.
“I’m here,” Trig said, stepping into the room.
“Where’s Beth?” Mike asked, frowning when he didn’t see her behind Trig.
“She is with Councilor Ikera,” Trig replied. “The apartment upstairs didn’t have any food.”
“Shit, I forgot about that,” Tim muttered, running his hand down over his face. “Sorry about that, Destin.”
“I should have checked it. It isn’t your fault, Tim,” Destin reassured the other man with a grimace. “Cutter, what are you doing here?”
“Councilor Ikera requested transport to the base. I was in the area. I wanted to discuss several things with you, now that you’ve returned,” Cutter explained in a quiet voice. “It would appear that I came in at the appropriate time.”
“I would like to take a ten minute break first. We’ll meet back here,” Destin replied.
“Who is Councilor Ikera?” Justin asked under his breath.
“A blue bitch like the Usoleum bastard Badrick,” Mason replied.
Destin reacted without thinking. He moved around the table, invading the large, older man’s space. His face was tight with anger and he didn’t bother to hide it. His fist wrapped in the front of Mason’s shirt and he stared the man down.
“That ‘blue bitch’ is my woman,” Destin warned in a voice devoid of all civility. “You will address her with respect. Her name is Princess Jersula Ikera.” He released the front of Mason’s shirt, slightly pushing the man before he stepped back and slowly turned to make sure each man in the room knew he was pissed. “If you can’t be civil to her, stay the hell away from her. You insult Sula, you insult me. I’ll meet you back here in ten fucking minutes. Don’t be late.”
Destin didn’t say anything else. He was afraid if he did, it would be with his fists. He strode out the door and headed down the hallway toward the break room. He didn’t know how Beth would handle Sula being around.
Turning the corner, he slowed when he heard the soft sound of laughter and Beth’s bubbly voice. Pausing outside of the break room, he leaned back against the wall and listened. It was hard to hear what they were saying above the sound of music playing in the background.
“So, you’re a real live princess, like in the movies?” Beth was asking in a voice filled with awe.
“What is a movie?” Sula asked.
“Movies are videos where you can relax, eat popcorn, drink soda, and lose yourself in people acting out things on a large screen. My grandma and I used to go to the dollar matinee on Wednesdays during the summer. My favorites were the classics. Don’t you have movies where you come from?” Beth asked.
“Oh, yes. Entertainment plays,” Sula laughed. “I enjoy them very much. Chelsea gave me quite a few of them the last time I was here.”
Relief flooded Destin at the sound of Sula’s warm laughter. Beth had the type of personality where no one was a stranger. Straightening, he stepped around the corner and into the break room.
“Thank you for helping out, Beth,” Destin murmured with a nod.
“No problem. I’m good with wild animals and aliens,” she teased, winking at Sula. “You’re the alien. I’ll classify Trig as the wild animal.”
Sula laughed again, unable to resist the infectious personality of the other woman. Destin watched Beth rise gracefully out of her seat.
“I’ll let Grandma know you’re back. She and Mabel have been worried about you, and they wanted to know about Kali, too,” Beth said, glancing back and forth between Destin and Sula with an amused smile.
Destin nodded. “Tell them that Sula and I will be by later to show them pictures of Kali and Ami,” he added, stepping to the side so Beth could exit the room.
“I will. See you later, Sula. It was nice meeting you,” Beth said with a smile.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Beth,” Sula responded.
Destin reached over and closed the door behind Beth.
“Cutter said you requested transport over to the base,” Destin said in a quiet tone, walking over to sit down in the chair next to her.
Sula’s gaze softened and she nodded. “Yes. I’ve been doing some research on the missing women,” she murmured.
Destin’s lips tightened. “I want to assign some security to you. I don’t want you traveling alone,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Even with all the new construction and rebuilding, there are a lot of people who aren’t happy with the fact that aliens are still on the planet.”
“They lost so much. I can hardly blame them, Destin,” Sula murmured.
Destin gently squeezed her hand and released it. The confrontation with Mason and the others disturbed him, but he understood their feelings. Hell, he had felt the same way, but after spending so many months on the spaceships and then on Rathon, he had a better
appreciation for just how naïve he was in his understanding of the universe he lived in.
Sitting back in his seat, he noted that she looked a little pale. He didn’t have much time left before he was supposed to meet with the others. It would be nice if he could assign one of them to Sula, but after the reaction he’d just seen from them, there was no way he would let them near her. That left only one person he could trust at the moment – Beth.
“I’ll have Beth stay with you when I can’t. She knows this city like the back of her hand and can fight,” Destin said. “I’ve got to return to the meeting. I’ll let her know.”
“I’m not sure how long I will be gone. I’d like to see if Chelsea is still at the medical unit as well. I enjoyed her company the last time I was here,” Sula said, stirring the spoon in the cup of soup in front of her.
“Make sure you have your communicator with you,” he instructed, still leery about letting her out of his sight. “Sula….”
“Yes?” Sula responded.
“I…,” Destin began before he released a frustrated sigh and stood up. “Be careful.”
Destin bent and pressed a hard, possessive kiss to her upturned lips. For added measure, he teased them with his tongue. She immediately opened for him like a blossom seeking the sun. A soft moan escaped her and he lifted his hands to frame her jaw while he deepened the kiss. They were both breathing heavily when he reluctantly ended the kiss. His thumbs caressed her cheek, sliding over the smooth, silky skin.
“I’ll see you later this evening,” he murmured, straightening. “Cutter is here. He’ll take you back to the base. I need to speak with him first, though. In the meantime, I’ll have Beth meet you back here and let her know that she’ll be assigned to you when I’m not available.”
“Thank you,” Sula said, watching him walk back to the closed door. “Destin…. Will my being here – with you – compromise you in any way among your men?”
Destin turned, his hand on the door.
“Why would you think that? Has anyone said or done anything?” Destin asked in a calm, controlled voice.
“No… It’s just….” Her hand lifted and she played with the end of the braid lying over her shoulder. “I saw the way those two men looked at me when we arrived. I don’t want to cause you any difficulty. If necessary, I can stay at the base.”
“Is that want you want?” Destin asked, gazing back at her with an emotionless mask.
Sula’s lips firmed and she shook her head. “No. I would prefer to kick their asses if they make your life difficult, but something tells me that wouldn’t help my cause any,” she admitted with a rueful smile.
Destin released an unexpected chuckle and his eyes glittered with amusement. He smiled back at her, his shoulders relaxing. This is what he loved about her, her ability to surprise him and make him proud.
“It might not, but I would prefer that over you staying at the base. Don’t worry about my men. They know you are mine,” Destin replied. “I’ll see you later.”
Destin pulled the door open and stepped out of the break room. He drew in a deep breath, his mind churning. He loved her. He loved Sula.
“So it is true,” Cutter replied, straightening from where he was leaning against the wall outside of the break room.
Destin scowled, wondering how long the Trivator had been standing there – with Trig. Destin seriously contemplated a large roll of Duct tape for Trig’s mouth.
“I didn’t say a thing. You did that earlier in the other room,” Trig stated as if reading Destin’s mind.
Ignoring the statement, Destin turned his gaze back to Cutter. Over the last two years, the Trivator and he had formed a tentative truce. He knew the man was here for more than a social visit. Something else was going on.
“Richard said that Alissa Garcia was last seen with you. What do you know about her?” Destin asked, continuing down the hallway when Cutter stepped beside him.
“It was when I stopped by to see how her new security forces trainees were doing. She asked to speak to me in private and explained that she was investigating the disappearance of several human females. The location made her suspect alien involvement. I assured her I would look into it and stepped up patrols in those areas,” Cutter replied. “Razor contacted me to describe what happened on Rathon. The attack on his and Hunter’s residence was disturbing.”
“I agree. If Kali had been there alone with Ami, it could have had a completely different outcome,” Destin replied. “Those were skilled assassins.”
“Be thankful they weren’t Drethulans,” Cutter muttered, glancing over his shoulder at Trig who followed them in silence. “How is Dagger?”
“Dangerous,” Trig answered in a clipped tone. “Jordan is the only thing that keeps him grounded.”
Cutter nodded in satisfaction and turned to face forward again. “It is good he is alive,” he said before he slowed to a stop outside of the conference room.
“What is it?” Destin asked with a frown when he saw the steely expression in Cutter’s gaze.
“I’ve gone over the Waxian warship incident with Jag. We both felt something was wrong. Even outmatched, they should have put up more of a fight. Jag took the Star Raider to the location to investigate the wreckage. Until he files a report, we are on high alert. Razor believes there is a larger assault amassing against Earth. If it is true that the Drethulan and the Waxians are working together, we will have a battle on our hands,” Cutter informed Destin in a terse tone.
Destin glanced through the door at his men sitting around the table. They had a right to know what was going on. If the Drethulan and Waxians did attack, they would be in the middle of it.
“How soon will you know?” he asked, glancing back at Cutter.
“A few days. There is a lot of space out there and a lot of debris to sift through,” Cutter replied.
“Thank you for letting me know what is going on,” Destin said.
Cutter gave him a brief nod. “I’ve informed the human leaders of Earth and put our ground troops and ships on alert….”
“But…,” Destin inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“I received a message earlier,” Cutter admitted, lifting a hand to rub his jaw, his gaze moving from the conference room back to Destin. “It flashed for a brief moment, then disappeared.”
“What did it say? Who was it from?” Destin asked with a frown.
Cutter shook his head. “I don’t know who it was from and could not trace it. It was as if it never existed. The message consisted of three words. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I had imagined it,” he admitted.
“What did it say?” Destin asked in exasperation.
Cutter dropped his hand and stared intently back at him. “It said ‘protect Destin Parks’,” he replied.
Several hours later, Destin punched in the code to his living quarters that Tim gave him, then slid in a disk that would install a range extender and a new program for the sensors. With this he would be alerted when anyone approached the door, not just when they put their palm on the scanner or punched a wrong number into the keypad. Next he changed the code to one unique to him and Sula. It was the same one they used on board the Star Raider. He ejected the disk and pocketed it.
It had been a long but informative day. Destin walked across the gleaming tile. The apartment was dark, lit only by the soft glow of the moonlight shining through the windows. With a murmured command, a set of accent lights came on. Most of the city finally had some form of power restored to it. The only areas missing were those still too heavily damaged to safely activate it.
The power grids were different from before. This time, alien technology was employed. Destin was still trying to wrap his head around it, but each building, whether a home or a business, would have a self-contained energy source. The technology was a product of Trivator and Kassisan engineers working together to create something new.
In the early years when electricity was first used, most buildings and stre
ets had to be retrofitted with power lines and cables to a substation which received power from one major power plant.
Destin understood the hazards of that. It meant miles and miles of cables that would need to be maintained and upgraded to handle the additional load as the country grew. It also meant an area of weakness. A devastating storm, a demand overload, extreme temperatures, or an attack on the power sources could all lead to critical failure and mean days, weeks, months, or in the case of what happened when the aliens appeared, years of disruptions. The aliens already discovered that was not a good idea.
“It is amazing that we made it as long as we did,” Destin murmured, walking over to stare out at the city far below him.
Low, shielded lights illuminated the streets, but he was unable to see them from this far. The idea was to preserve the natural balance of light and dark. Once humans discovered artificial light, they wanted to light up their world. Often driven by fear, misconceptions, and excellent marketing, homes, streets, and businesses lit up the darkness, drowning the brilliance of the night sky. The most densely populated areas had not been hard to see from space, which had helped the Trivators decide where to contact first.
In contrast, Destin remembered the first time he’d seen Rathon from space. It had been nighttime there and despite having two moons, the planet was devoid of light. He had wondered if it was even inhabited until the shuttle he’d been in landed on the base. Their lighting was designed to preserve their night vision. He knew deep down that it would take a generation or two before humans fully adapted to the concept, despite the fact that they had lived without electricity for thousands of years before that.
In the distance, he could see the continuing construction. That was another thing he and the others had learned. Once Destin and his people agreed to work with Cutter on the rebuilding of the city, the Trivators had not wasted any time. Large machines scooped up the debris, filtering, crushing, or incinerating it while transports and workers swarmed over one section of the city at a time.
