The Lost Princess

by K Bledsoe

  She was faced toward the door, and he inserted himself behind her, a knife appearing in his right hand. For a wild moment, she thought he was going to free her until he put the blade to her throat.

  “Don’t move,” he breathed in her ear. Lenore did nothing and couldn’t talk as she surreptitiously manipulated the tech with her tongue to try to find the correct button. A heartbeat later, Diarmin came into the room, blaster drawn. He froze at the door as he saw the situation.

  “If you kill her, you are dead the next second,” Diarmin said.

  It had been a long time since Lenore had heard that specific tone.

  “That’s why we will all be reasonable here,” said her torturer.

  Lenore heard his left hand rustling, hidden behind the chair from Diarmin, and suspected he was preparing a knife to throw. She widened her eyes to warn Diarmin, but he must have already noticed since he extended his blaster arm and toggled a switch at his belt. The shield extended out to form a bubble with the tip of the blaster outside and able to fire.

  “Don’t even try,” said Diarmin. “As you can see, nothing will get through now and you will be just as dead.”

  Lenore momentarily forgot all else as she realized Diarmin was taking a huge risk. She knew it was just a bluff, and that the shield would fail at any moment. But it was enough for the man to hesitate, and then it no longer mattered.

  She had found the correct button.

  Lenore closed her eyes as her tongue pressed. Even so, she could see the flash of the white light of the electromagnetic pulse through her eyelids. Both men gasped as they were temporarily blinded, and she felt the knife pull away from her throat at the same time her hands sprang apart. In one fluid movement, her right elbow came up and connected solidly under the man’s chin. His head snapped back, and knives clattered to the floor as he sprawled in a heap, out cold.

  Lenore spit out the EM generator into her hand and stuffed it back into her bra. Suddenly, Diarmin was there, hands on her face and kissing her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Well, enough.”

  He paused only for a moment at her brusque tone but then nodded. They weren’t out of danger yet.

  “Hurry, help me out of these.” She began working at the leg cords and, with his help, was free in no time.

  “Watch the door. Sorry your blaster is useless.” She snatched up the knives and tossed them to him. “Use these if you have to.”

  Diarmin deftly caught both and angled himself to see down the hall. Lenore quickly put her gloves on and gathered her equipment. She stuffed most into the bag, not bothering to equip anything since the pulse had rendered most of them useless. It only took a couple moments to gather everything, but the man started groaning.

  “A lot tougher than his rich clothes would suggest,” she said. As he stirred, she reached down and gently placed her hand on his neck. The needle in the glove did its proper paralyzing trick. The fury in the man’s eyes was truly a sight to behold.

  “I should kill you, and indeed the thought has crossed my mind, but I think I can afford to be, hm, merciful today. Besides, I only kill those that I am paid to kill. Usually. I can always make an exception.” She waved a knife in front of his eyes and was impressed that his expression didn’t change a bit at the threat. “Well, not today. I hope you will appreciate me sparing your life and let me be. Next time I won’t be so accommodating. Now,” with her other hand she held up a dart, “this will keep you immobile for about thirty minutes so that you don’t have to try to follow. We will be long gone by then.” She jabbed it into his neck and removed her glove.

  He managed a twitch, but the drug was quick. His eyes never left hers.

  “Oh, and just to show you how agreeable I can be, I suggest you put your time to better use than following me. That pulse also deactivated any security on Timatay’s safe which, incidentally, is hidden there in his closet.” She smiled as his eyes lost their anger and instead took on an avid look. She laughed. “Yes, remember my generosity. It should more than cover the reward for me.”

  Lenore turned to Diarmin who glanced back at her with raised eyebrows. She shrugged and hefted her pack.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  They headed downstairs and out the front door where Diarmin paused to gather the blasters from the downed guards.

  “You didn’t…” asked Lenore, concerned.

  “They’re only stunned.” He tossed a blaster to Lenore. “Quinn should be landed by now.”

  They rounded the corner and nearly ran headlong into the shuttle. The door hissed open and Allison’s face peered out. As soon as it was wide enough, Lenore and Diarmin clambered in

  Allison yelled “Got ‘em,” then threw herself into a seat and grabbed the safety harness. Lenore had barely enough time to hold on securely as Quinn lifted the shuttle and shot away. As the pressure evened, Lenore made her way to the copilot’s chair. Quinn started to relinquish control, but Lenore stopped him.

  “It seems you are more of a pilot than we thought. You keep flying.”

  “You always say that desperation improves skill.”

  His grin was the best thing Lenore had seen in a long time.

  “Let’s go home.”

  ***

  “You were supposed to land outside the gates,” said Diarmin angrily as they all disembarked the shuttle.

  “I knew there was enough room and that I could do it.”

  “And he angled the door to the best spot, too,” added Allison.

  “What if you had crashed? Then how would we have gotten away?”

  “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure.” Quinn’s fists clenched, his voice rising with each word.

  “Hey, hey, everyone. Take a breath.” Lenore felt odd being the one to calm everyone down. That was usually Diarmin’s job. But then, she was used to the excess adrenaline after a mission and especially after escaping a dangerous situation. It had been a very long time since her husband felt that.

  “Diarmin, it worked, and we are back safe. Quinn, your father is working off his extra nervous energy.” Diarmin opened his mouth, but Lenore held up a finger. “No more. I am sure everyone is exhausted and hungry. Allison, how are you doing?”

  “I’m okay, Mom. Not hurt, but a bit shaky.”

  “Good. Will you go make us something high in protein and carbohydrates? We need to replenish. Quinn, secure the ship, and Diarmin will set our course back to Sulous.”

  With jobs to do, the family dropped their disagreements and left for their various assignments. Lenore headed to the cabin and took a very quick shower, changed and bandaged her various wounds. All of that only took a few minutes, but she knew everyone would be feeling the letdown about now.

  Sure enough, Allison was drooping as she exited the kitchen with a platter of finger foods. Lenore took the platter and thrust a handful of the snacks and an electrolyte drink into her daughter’s hands.

  “I’ll take it from here. You eat that and then go to bed.”

  “But—”

  “Now, young miss. I am sure you have had very little sleep lately.” She smiled. “And you did a very good job today.”

  Allison shoved a meat roll in her mouth and mumbled something but headed for her room. Lenore found Quinn on the bridge and did the exact same thing to him, squeezing his shoulder as he started down the ladder.

  She brought the plate to Diarmin, noticing his sunken eyes. She held out a drink.

  “Here. You look worse than the kids.”

  He merely grunted, eyes glued to the control board as he punched in the course. As Lenore devoured her own food, she watched him carefully. It was the first time in a very long time that he had been off the ship in an active role. She knew he was wrestling with inner turmoil and didn’t want to interfere, but she had to know.

  “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Really?” Lenore took a drink and handed him a tiny sandwich. He took it, still without looking at her.


  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No,” he said, but his voice was a little softer. They ate for a while in silence and finally she could take it no longer.

  “You said you didn’t,” she commented.

  He hesitated before answering which worried her considerably.

  “But I could have,” he finally said.

  “But you didn’t.”

  “But I could have, that’s just as bad.” He ran his left hand through his hair and stared at the drink as if it were the enemy.

  She kept silent, knowing he needed to work it through.

  “It’s been years. Seventeen years, two months and three days, to be exact. I had thought that part of me, those…emotions were gone.”

  “They never leave, Diarmin. They only hide until something brings them out into the open. At least this time it was for the right reason.”

  “Maybe.” But he didn’t sound convinced.

  “You’re tired. I am sure you haven’t slept since we started this mission and that was over a day ago. Get some rest.” She knew better than to suggest he sleep. The nightmares would probably return.

  “You need sleep, too.”

  “I had a good couple of hours more than you. It’s amazing how restful being stunned can be.”

  Diarmin merely snorted, rejecting her attempt to lighten the mood. Fortunately, she knew how to manipulate people, especially her husband. She hardly ever did, but he needed to focus on something other than himself.

  “Go. You know I won’t sleep well for a few hours anyway.”

  He finally looked at her and the haunted look in his eyes receded a bit as concern replaced it. “I am sorry. I didn’t think. Was it bad?” His fingers lightly brushed a bandage on her arm.

  “I’ve had worse.” She gave a little smile and patted his hand. “I know my brain is going to be rehashing events, figuring out what went wrong, and how I can plan better in the future. I might as well watch the bridge while my rescuers get some sleep.”

  Lenore could tell he really didn’t want to relax, but she noticed his muscles go slack as the last of the adrenaline wore off.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know. But at least now I know I can count on you and the kids when things don’t go as planned.” Immediately she regretted her words as he looked away again.

  “Yes.” He turned and left the bridge.

  Lenore followed him long enough to make sure he went to their room. Despite her stealth, he turned and smiled at her before he entered.

  “I’ll be fine. Come get me when you need to sleep.”

  She smiled back. “I will.” But she doubted if he was going to be fine for quite a while.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  A solid day of rest returned the family to normal. Or mostly anyway. There would be scars, physical and mental, but at least all were safe, and healing could begin. When Allison awoke, she went straight to her computer with the information they had downloaded. By the time Lenore woke up from a short nap, Alli had found and used the Chanis cypher code.

  They had a trail to follow.

  “I don’t believe it,” said Lenore as she deciphered where the slave records ended, and her search would start.

  “What?” the other three said all at once.

  “Remember how Timatay mentioned twins? That was the princess and her companion.”

  “They were surgically altered to look alike since they couldn’t be separated,” said Allison who had found the original entries.

  “Why couldn’t they be separated?” asked Diarmin.

  Allison scrolled through her data and stopped to read. “Says here, ‘Sulous products both sickened when put in separate facilities. Subject A nearly died for unexplained reasons until the doctors gave in to her begging to be returned to Subject B. Health returned to both shortly after being reunited.’”

  “Do you think that was the companion bonds?” asked Quinn.

  “Probably, though Lavan never hinted at such a deep connection,” said Lenore.

  “Well, twins are easier to track, although it would go quicker with pictures. Strange that the organization never photographed them,” said Quinn.

  “Photos make it much easier to find a person,” said Diarmin. “The organization wouldn’t want that. Neither would the girls after they escaped.”

  Lenore was eager to move on. “Allison, pull up the roster of ships that left the planet soon after they escaped, or I should say, after Timatay let them escape. It won’t be long now.”

  A couple more hours of hacking records brought an exclamation from Allison and Lenore simultaneously.

  “No way.”

  “What’s going on?” said Quinn as he entered the bridge, damp towel on his shoulder that he kept blotting his sweaty face with. Lenore was glad he was keeping up with the exercises she had shown them.

  “We finally have a picture of the twins, well, pictures,” said Lenore.

  “After tracking them to three different planets,” said Diarmin, shaking his head.

  “But their fourth stop, Melanalerrie, weird name for a planet if you ask me,” piped in Allison, who was printing something out, “they applied for ID cards, and a still photo was taken. On an old-fashioned camera because the new one wasn’t working.” She held up the paper with copies of the new IDs, and Quinn’s mouth fell open as he saw the photos.

  “No way.”

  ***

  All day, Jonah was distracted at work. He felt he should be able to guess why Raahi had run away like that. Something was worrying in the back of his brain, but it wouldn’t come to the forefront. Absently he scrolled through the few pictures he had of her on his personal data stick. Nothing new, although that one was quite blurred. Not as bad as the one from the Baroness’ ship…wait. That was it. The images.

  He pulled up several pictures of himself within the palace and noticed they were clear. Indeed, any coming through the palace computers were quite unscrambled. Yet he knew that cameras outside the palace couldn’t unscramble his features; they didn’t have the programming. He hadn’t realized that his pictures of Raahi were being unscrambled since he only saw them from the palace. He was such a fool not to put the pieces together. The girl on the ship who was so good at computers even pointed it out, but Jonah had forgotten. The program to decode the scrambler would exist from those who had implanted it.

  Jonah called his shift replacement and asked if she would come in early. He couldn’t wait to return home to check on what he now suspected. Waiting for Ginette was the longest ten minutes of his life.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as she walked in. “Couldn’t hold on the last couple of hours?”

  “I don’t feel well. Need to go home.”

  She peered into his face as if she didn’t believe him, but her brow furrowed. “You do look a bit pale. Are you sweating? I’ve never seen you sweat.”

  “Thank you, Ginette, for coming. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Not if you are still sick. I don’t want to catch it,” she hollered as he left, her voice echoing down the hall after him.

  Jonah rushed home trying to look normal, but his heart was racing. He arrived and went straight to his personal terminal. He had barely pulled the data stick out of his pocket when there was a soft knock on the door.

  Damn! He’d wanted to check his theory before Raahi came, but she must have been watching for him. He would have to improvise.

  Jonah opened the door, and a gloved hand shot forward holding out a small box the size of his fist. Reflexively he took it.

  “It is of medium quality and should fail after two uses.” Raahi pivoted and walked away, catching Jonah completely off guard.

  “Wait, your money,” he said.

  “Forget it,” she called over her shoulder, not stopping. “Consider it a favor for all you have done for me.” She was nearly to the corner, and Jonah hurried after her.

  “Wait. Stop.”

  �
��I have to leave. Goodbye Jonah.”

  “Nirav misses you.”

  She stopped so abruptly he nearly ran into her. She slowly turned to him, her face completely devoid of expression, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed her tension to Jonah.

  “What did you say?” she whispered. Her reaction gave Jonah all the confirmation he needed.

  “I said, Nirav misses you. Or should I have said ‘Your father, King Nirav, misses you?’”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Raahi as she turned away and headed for the elevator.

  Jonah grabbed her arm.

  “Yes, you do. Your reaction told me that you recognized the name of the king. Very few know his personal name.”

  “And how would you know his name, a mere security officer?”

  Jonah felt a blush but held his head high. Nothing but honesty would work here. “I apologize for the deception, but I am not law enforcement. I work at the palace as the Chief Reviewer and have been close to the king for many years. Ever since Princess Maya, or I should say ‘you’, disappeared.”

  “You’re crazy,” she said. With her next words, her voice dropped, and a smoldering anger suffused her eyes. “Let me go.” The menace in her tone and tension in her stance made Jonah loosen his grip on her arm.

  She wrenched herself out of his hold and stepped away, face unreadable.

  “I am not who you think I am.”

  In the next breath, she was gone, down the stairs, not bothering with the elevator.

  Jonah stared, unable to move, feeling as if she had punched him in the gut.

  Chapter Fifty-two

  After another inattentive day at work, Jonah returned to the apartment with absolutely nothing any clearer in his head. He tried to keep himself busy by arranging an anonymous messenger to deliver the package containing the scrambler directly to Lavan. Though he took care to be sure it could not be traced back to him, oddly enough he found he didn’t particularly care. Without Maya to challenge the right of succession, the prince would have to do something truly horrific, such as killing someone, to be removed from the hierarchy. Bad as he was, Jonah didn’t think he was a murderer.