Fancy seeing you here? he thought to himself, his heart giving a little jolt at the unexpected event.
From her bag she produced a translation headset and placed it on her head. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, adjusting the mouthpiece. ‘You look a little shocked … have you never seen one of my kind before?’
‘It’s not that,’ Zeven clarified, ‘you just look so much like —’
‘My grand aunt Candace, I know.’ She waved off the fact. ‘I get told that all the time. Actually …’ She tilted her head curiously, and appearing a little startled, she decided to keep her observation to herself.
‘What is it?’ Zeven wondered as she eyed him up and down.
‘Nothing.’ She waved off her realisation as insignificant.
‘If you say so.’ He was curious and the grin on his face obviously said it all.
‘I just …’ She appeared a little flushed suddenly. ‘And I know this will sound odd, but, I feel like I recognise you.’
That’s a little freaky. Her comment sent shockwaves through Zeven. ‘From another life, perhaps?’ He could not stop himself from flirting, despite the little voice in his head asking him if he was a sucker for punishment.
‘I am Ibis-Swan, Princess of Tarazean,’ she announced, holding out a hand to him, ‘and you are?’
Princess? The title resounded in his mind, warning him to walk away immediately, but the seductive look on the exotic woman’s face had him enchanted. Ibis seemed more confident and game than Rory, and to Zeven’s mind that made her the perfect woman — the exotic features of her race only made her more attractive to him. ‘Zeven Gudren, bastard Prince of Phemoria,’ he replied, not to be outdone, as he took hold of her hand and held it, along with her fond gaze, until she reluctantly withdrew from his touch.
‘Phemoria,’ she queried, ‘the planet that Jazmay is from?’
‘Who is Jazmay?’
‘Another patient here,’ Ibis advised. ‘I thought you might have met?’
‘I’m pretty sure I’d remember seeing a Phemorian about the place, and I haven’t, I’m sorry.’ Zeven decided he should take his leave at this point, feeling that to stay and pursue the conversation would be a mistake — a mistake he’d made before.
‘I was actually here to see Jahan. Do you know where I might find him?’
‘I don’t really know anyone.’ Zeven shrugged apologetically, as he backed up. ‘I’m just visiting.’ He smiled in closing and turned to depart.
‘For how long?’
The princess’s query made his heart flutter, but he suppressed his excitement and turned back to reply. ‘A few days, a few weeks.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s hard to say.’
‘Are you ill?’ She was concerned for him.
‘No, no,’ he assured, ‘but I have friends recuperating here, so I was offered accommodation to be close at hand if they need me.’ He forced a grin.
‘That must be frightfully boring for you,’ she ventured.
‘It is, rather,’ he admitted, his gut churning with excitement that he really didn’t want to feel. ‘I’ve been secretly trying to escape and explore since I got here, but apparently I look too much like one of your past leaders to be let loose in public.’
Ibis found this amusing. ‘You do rather look like our late governor,’ she admitted. ‘But there are wonderful places on Kila that you could visit without risk of being seen,’ she suggested, ever so subtly.
Even though Zeven was now confident of where this conversation was heading, he made no attempt to divert its course, and he really should have. ‘But how would I find such places … a map?’
‘Most of the best spots aren’t on any map, only we Chosen know about them. But I’d be happy to show you,’ Ibis proposed.
‘What, now?’ Zeven was delighted as he was already bored with temple life. And what was the use of visiting another universe, if he didn’t get to see any of it?
‘If you like.’ Ibis beamed. ‘I can catch up with my friends later.’
‘But why would you trouble yourself, Princess?’ he wondered.
‘It’s no trouble,’ she advised, ‘I show visiting dignitaries around all the time.’
‘But you don’t know me,’ Zeven reasoned with her, ‘and as a princess, surely there are protocols about you accompanying strangers into the wilderness?’
Ibis had a good chuckle at this. ‘I can take care of myself,’ she said, but with a second thought, some of her confidence fled. ‘Or, maybe you’re right.’ She hung her head for a moment, and then forced a smile as she backed up.
Let her go, Zeven told himself. Not only is she the wrong woman for you, she is royalty! Going anywhere alone with her is just asking for trouble. But the look of disappointment on her face was plucking at his heart strings and he reached out to delay her. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you … and don’t get me wrong, I would love to get out of this temple for a few hours, especially with someone so lovely as yourself.’ The comment brought the smile and excitement back to her face. ‘But perhaps it would be wise to tell someone that we are going and when to expect us back?’
‘Good call,’ she agreed. ‘But who?’
‘Hmmm, let me think,’ Zeven considered — who could be trusted not to tell, but did not have enough authority to prevent him from going? He clicked his fingers and headed off through the gardens. ‘Follow me.’
By the pool, Telmo was typing reports into his communicator to send back to Maladdan, when Zeven found him.
‘Hey, Telmo,’ Zeven called to him on approach. ‘That’s your name, isn’t it?’
The scientist nodded, more intrigued by the lady in Zeven’s company.
‘This is Ibis-Swan, Princess of Tarazean,’ Zeven introduced the pair. ‘Princess, this is Telmo Dacre, science advisor to Maladaan.’
‘Hello.’ She smiled winningly. ‘Nice to meet you.’
As Telmo gazed into the bird-woman’s face, a string of memories from the past ran through his mind that told him, not only had they met many times before, but that Zeven and Ibis had met before and had been lovers in many lifetimes. ‘Princess,’ Telmo found his voice and nodded to her respectfully. ‘What can I do for you both?’
‘Ibis has offered to get me out of this jail for a few hours —’ Zeven began.
‘I don’t think that would be wise.’ Telmo stood to voice his opposition nervously — as Zeven was by far the stronger and more forceful of the two of them.
‘I’m not asking for your opinion,’ Zeven clarified. ‘I just needed to tell someone I was going, in case anyone is looking for either of us.’
‘But the governor —’
‘— will be tied up for the rest of the day,’ Zeven cut in. ‘Don’t sweat, I’ll be back in a few hours; no one will even notice I’m gone.’
Clearly there was no point in arguing. ‘If you say so,’ Telmo caved, wondering if he should warn Zeven about what he knew of his history with this woman.
‘So, shall I fly us out of here?’ Ibis suggested.
‘No need.’ Zeven thought he’d show off. ‘Just picture where we are going in your mind,’ he instructed, taking hold of her hand.
‘Okay.’ She played along, and in the next moment they vanished.
‘Whoa,’ Telmo gasped, suspecting Zeven had teleported himself and the princess elsewhere. He’d never known any man from his universe to have such a ‘Power’ — teleportation was fabled to be exclusive to the ancient female line of the Phemorians.
Telmo was mind-boggled. If Zeven Gudrun did possess such a ‘Power’ then he was not to be messed with, and Telmo resolved to do his best to stay on his good side.
Ibis and Zeven arrived back at the healing temple a little later than expected, but Zeven couldn’t have cared less if he got in trouble. ‘I had a really great time today,’ he said, and as he was holding most of his clothes in his hand he placed them aside. His trousers were rolled up and still wet from swimming in the ocean, and fine, white sand still clung to his feet and shins.
‘We must do it again, soon,’ Ibis agreed in a whisper, kissing him passionately, as she had done many times this day.
‘I think that I would get in serious political trouble if we did.’ He grinned, having controlled his urge to fully take advantage of Ibis’s overly amorous nature.
‘I love trouble,’ she emphasised, kissing him again.
‘Well, I’m that, to be sure.’ He forced his hands away from her lovely curves and backed up. ‘I really, really have to go.’
‘I know.’ Ibis swayed her body in a cute fashion, as she suggested, ‘But you can find me with a thought, right? So … think of me sometime.’ She smiled in invitation, and spreading her wings she took off into the night sky, blowing him a kiss as she did so.
‘Dear universe,’ Zeven appealed to the heavens as she departed, ‘how is any man supposed to resist that?’
‘He puts the greater good first and says no.’
Taren’s lecturing tone made the hairs on the back of Zeven’s neck stand on end; he hadn’t felt this busted since he was in his teens.
‘We called a mission meeting this afternoon …’ Taren advised.
Oh no … Zeven turned to face her wrath … of all the rotten luck.
‘… to discover you had decided to go sightseeing, against the express orders of the governor, with a princess from another planet! Need I say this is so bloody typical of you? There is so much more at stake here than just your love life!’
‘Easy to say, when you have one,’ Zeven bantered, trying to skirt around the issue.
‘Zeven, please try and see the bigger picture,’ she begged. ‘Don’t you think we have enough political ill will about, without you adding to it? Please tell me you didn’t take advantage of her …’
‘You always assume the worst of me, don’t you?’ A fact that really pissed him off.
‘Well, look at you!’ Taren motioned to his lack of attire. ‘If her father, the King of Tarazean and the governor’s own brother …’
Zeven was stunned by that news.
‘… had seen what I just saw, with you appearing thus, what would he think?’
‘We went swimming!’ Zeven stressed his innocence, perturbed that he had to. ‘And flying.’ His angry expression softened with the memory.
‘Sounds like fun.’ Taren was sorry to have to be the voice of reason.
‘It was,’ he said a little bitterly, before saying what he knew Taren wanted to hear. ‘I won’t see her again.’
‘You have one just like her at home, Starman,’ she said softly, as he grabbed up his clothes.
He shook his head to the negative. ‘Not like this one.’ His voice broke over the statement, whereupon he looked away to contain the pain swelling in his throat.
‘I’m sorry.’ Taren was sympathetic. ‘The mission meeting has been rescheduled for the morning.’
Zeven nodded, and with a deep inhale found his voice. ‘I’ll be there.’
‘Goodnight,’ Taren bade him.
‘Is it?’ He plonked himself down on a chair to fully wallow in the moment, and when he looked up again, Taren had gone.
Taren Lennox, Lucian Gervaise, Zeven Gudrun, Ringbalin Malachi, Telmo Dacre and Jazmay Cardea sat around a large garden setting in the poolside courtyard of the governor’s healing temple — Rhun was chairing the meeting. All on the final team for the Maladaan mission had been given the all-clear by Cadfan and were discussing their point of entry to the Maladaan Secret Service headquarters in Esponisa.
‘I say we just materialise in one of the MSS memory banks and access the mainframe from there.’ Zeven felt it was easy.
‘We’d have to know what one of these memory banks looks like,’ Taren said.
‘Well, you’ve been in one — don’t you know?’ Zeven was annoyed she was shooting holes in his plan.
‘Nope, they took that memory too,’ Taren informed and then gasped as Jazmay transformed into Chief Ronan across the table from her.
‘I know what the memory banks look like,’ Jazmay said from inside of the chief’s persona. ‘And provided the codes have not been changed in the wake of Ronan’s death, I know how to access the information you are looking for.’
‘Why would they bother changing the codes if Ronan is dead?’ Telmo asked. ‘Isn’t that why they kill people … so they don’t have to bother changing codes, locks etc? There’s no security risk in a dead person.’
‘We might be in luck,’ Taren agreed. ‘But the memory banks are sure to be monitored, which won’t give us much time to extract the information we want.’
‘Take out the guards in the security station and then there is no one to raise the alarm,’ Rhun suggested; from past experience he knew this was a good move.
‘Exactly right,’ Zeven seconded Rhun’s suggestion. ‘Do you know how many guards that might be?’ He looked to the Phemorian still wearing the chief of the MSS.
‘About ten men,’ she replied.
Zeven scowled. ‘Bad odds … for them.’ His grave expression dissolved into a cocky grin. ‘No problem, I’ll see to it.’ Starman was showing off for Jazmay’s benefit, but she was ignoring him.
‘So, we need two teams,’ Lucian summarised. ‘Taren and Jazmay will head straight for the memory bank and the rest of us will see to the security station.’
‘After someone telepathically confers an image of the said station from his memory.’ Zeven pointed to the chief.
‘I can help you out with that.’ Rhun waved a hand to acknowledge.
Jazmay assumed her true form. ‘So, when do we leave?’
‘Tomorrow, before dawn, will be the dead of night in the Maladaan capital of Esponisa,’ Telmo informed, having worked out the time differences between the two planets shortly after he’d arrived on Kila.
‘Then that’s when we should go,’ Lucian suggested and looked to the governor for final approval.
Rhun gave the deciding nod.
By the time they discussed weapons and protocol, the meeting didn’t come to a close until early evening.
Jazmay was feeling lighter now. The governor had told her that Fari had been seen by Cadfan. The healer had broken through the lad’s MSS programming, but in the process had churned up terrible memories in the boy. Fari had been placed in the care of the healing temple where he was currently dealing with the adverse emotions of his dark past. Jazmay, having met with Cadfan and Hatty earlier today, had the utmost confidence that Fari was in the best of care. She was also excited that she was to be a contributing member of society again. Being a warrior was what Jazmay was best at and now she could use those skills to further the cause of her adopted planet. She had purpose and life could not be finer.
Through the common rooms in the healing complex Jazmay searched for Jahan, and feared he might have got tired of waiting for the meeting to end and left. She was delighted when she found him by the fountain in the garden courtyard to the other side of the governor’s healing complex. Jahan was sitting with his back to the water feature, deep in thought.
‘You waited.’ She came to stand over him and Jahan looked up at her — his serious expression in grave contrast to her joy.
‘Of course I waited.’ He took hold of Jazmay’s hands. ‘I need to know what you’ve gotten yourself into.’
‘I cannot discuss that.’ She took a seat beside him.
‘When do you leave, then?’
Jazmay looked at him apologetically. ‘I can tell you that I am at leisure this evening.’ She nudged his shoulder playfully and Jahan bowed his head, now knowing the answer to his query was tomorrow morning. ‘Please don’t be like this.’ The Phemorian was brimming with excitement, which she really wanted to expend on her new lover in the bedroom. ‘I am thrilled about this mission! More thrilled than I have been about anything in half a decade!’
When Jahan looked to her, a little hurt, she grabbed hold of both his hands to clarify.
‘I meant professionally excited. I’m a warrior, Jahan, a soldier!’ She sto
od, compelled by her conviction. ‘I have to follow my own path, isn’t that the general philosophy of this fair city?’
It was painful for Jahan to nod in agreement — at least, it appeared it was. ‘But couldn’t you choose a path that doesn’t involve placing yourself in mortal danger?’
‘Look, I know I said I wanted to work for KEPA and be with you … but I love extreme danger! I thrive on it!’
‘So I’ll be more risqué.’ Jahan attempted humour, but Jazmay was not amused.
‘If the governor called upon you to risk your life for the good of Kila, you wouldn’t do it?’ she challenged.
‘There would be no risk to my life,’ he insisted and stood, ‘that’s my point!’
‘Well, there is a risk now,’ Jazmay disclosed more than she felt she should have, but he had to understand all her motives.
‘What are you saying?’ Jahan frowned, even more concerned than before.
‘My people have developed a weapon that can render the Chosen mortal,’ she told him in a harsh whisper.
‘No.’ He backed away, stunned by the implications.
Jazmay neared him to maintain her hushed tone. ‘Why do you think the Lord of the Otherworld is in a healing chamber?’
Jahan was floored by the news.
‘So the threat to us both is now equally great,’ she stated in her own defence. ‘You see now, my motives are not entirely selfish.’
Jahan embraced her and squeezed her tight. ‘I wish I was going with you.’ When he pulled back, he saw her tears.
‘I’m so glad you’re not,’ she told him in all sincerity, and ended their dispute with a kiss.
In the wake of the poolside meeting, Taren, Lucian, Jazmay and Rhun had quickly dispersed, having other places to be. This left Telmo, Ringbalin and Zeven still picking at the feast that had been laid out and devoured during their mission brief.
The sun had almost entirely set now. The exterior solar lights that had accumulated energy throughout the long sunny day shed a dim golden glow to highlight the pathways around the courtyard and the exterior of the healing complex.
The Universe Parallel Page 21
