What she had seen had caused her fear to spike. Xavier was surrounded by blaster fire. She assumed he had been captured. A blast made the desk in front of her shake. The man went around Sparrow, looked out of the window, and quickly locked the office door. He backed away from it with wide eyes.
“Is there another way out of here?” Sparrow asked.
He turned his head to her and took a moment before gathering himself enough to motion her to the back of the office and to another exit. Large dents began to appear in the office door to the accompaniment of loud booms as the AIs pounded against it to get inside.
“You don’t have to come with me. I don’t believe they will harm you.”
“I’d just assume not to test that theory, ma’am.” He held open the door for her and then locked it behind them with a palm scan before taking her by the hand and running across a fine, white, sandy dusting of ground and into a two-story structure. The door was locked behind them and then barricaded by other men. “Those robots are after you,” he said.
The miners looked at her, but she didn’t know how to interpret those stares.
“Yeah, are you going to send me out?” Sparrow asked.
“Hell, no. Talk fast and tell us what we’re dealing with,” a huge man said.
Sparrow explained how to deactivate or destroy the AIs.
“Why are they chasing you?” the office manager asked. He was a small balding man.
“I’m an escaped tech slave. They want to take me back.”
The wall of the building shook as the AIs struck it.
“How are they tracking her?” one of the men asked. He had a long black beard.
Another man pulled out a scanner. “Here,” he said as a tracking device blipped on his screen.
Had Xavier known about the device? Had his intention been to use her as bait all along? Was that all she was to him?
“Remove and destroy it,” Sparrow ordered.
“Can’t. It looks like it is fused to the base of your skull. Someone sure doesn’t want to lose you,” the miner with the black beard said.
“Take her down through the emergency tunnel. Don’t come out until you hear the all clear signal,” the big man said.
“Gideon! They’re breaking through!” a man yelled.
Light from the outside began to show along a crack at the top of the door. The office manager took Sparrow’s hand and ran.
“I’ll protect them,” another miner said as he ran after them.
They ran through a room Sparrow recognized as being a gym of sorts and into another room off of it that contained showers and waste units. Bending down, the office manager lifted a floor panel and revealed a set of metal stairs. Emergency lights had flickered on having sensed their movements.
“Hurry!” he said as he motioned Sparrow to follow him down.
Running down the steps, Sparrow stayed close to him. The miner behind them closed the hatch and secured it with a bolt. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, the miner said, “Sorry about this, Brad, but the lifestyle here on Malta ain’t much to my liking. Turning Miss Bishop here over to her Pa will set me up with enough credits to live comfortably for years.”
Outraged, Brad said, “You can’t turn this woman over to be forced into a life of servitude!”
“I take it you’re out?” the miner asked before he blasted him.
Brad jolted back against the wall before falling unconscious to the floor. Sparrow drew her own blasters and fired, but he evaded her blasts and used his blaster like a club and knocked them from her hands. Sparrow clutched her stinging fingers to her chest as her eyes began to fill. No one had ever hurt her before. The miner grabbed her roughly by her arm and yanked her along the corridor. Then, he shoved her into a lift and took them up into a mine.
Angry, Sparrow kicked the man hard between the legs and tried to take the blaster from him. He backhanded her and sent her flying into the wall of the lift. Sparrow tasted something sharp and metallic in her mouth. She remembered the taste vaguely from when she had lost her last baby tooth. With her fingers to her mouth, she pulled them away and saw blood on her fingertips. Shocked into compliance, Sparrow stumbled along when he shoved between her shoulder blades. He continued to push her along until they were outside.
A transport waited there. A door opened, and the man in the pale-blue suit from the shuttle stepped out. “You have made me waste a lot of credits, young lady,” he said. He paused taking in her bloody lip, tear-streaked face, and hands that she clutched at her chest. “Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly.
Sparrow nodded.
The man in the suit drew a weapon and shot the miner who dropped to the ground and began foaming at the mouth and shaking.
“Come, dear. He won’t hurt you again. I just sent enough energy through him to power a colonized dome for a week. Come on. You need medical attention.” He gestured her forward to the transport. He hadn’t yet put the energy weapon away.
Sparrow sat where he indicated, unable and unwilling to resist.
“Look at me, dear. Let me see your hand.” Obediently, Sparrow held out her hand. His eyes were almost solid black inside of the transport. He put a pain patch on each of her hands. “There, that will help until a doctor can see to you. Put your head down on the seat. Good. Now, close your eyes for the ride. You are so very tired.”
Sparrow fell asleep to the hypnotic sound of his voice. When she woke up, she was in a private room on a starship. Her blasters and vid-screen were gone. “Xavier,” she said hopelessly.
The door opened, and the man entered. He had cleaned up and changed into a fresh suit, dark-blue this time. “Aw, you are awake. Good. You have thirty minutes to shower and change before dinner. Go on,” he said.
Sparrow entered the bathroom and looked at her reflection. While she had slept, she had received medical attention. A sealant had been used to mend her lip. A purple bruise, of a lighter shade than the gown she had purchased, covered the lower half of her face. She showered and dressed in the clothing that had been provided for her. It was a dark, knee-length, patterned dress.
“Come along,” the man said. He had waited for her. She realized that he was controlling her mind, but she was unable to break free. He took her hand, and it made her cry because it wasn’t Xavier’s hand. “Don’t cry. I had meant to tell you how beautiful you looked at the ball. I know you feel alone, but don’t. Your father searches for you, but he was so neglectful of you that I hesitate to return you to him. Parker never encouraged you to do any of the things other young ladies do. I see you have been discovering those things for yourself. Your hair is lovely, Sparrow.”
He pulled out her chair at the dining table. The starship was opulent in comparison to the other ships Sparrow had been aboard.
“I apologize for the small patch of it that is now missing, but the tracking device had to be removed. On the shuttle, I began to realize your desperation to escape your father’s oppressive control and decided to help you. Please, allow me to formerly introduce myself. My name is Trevor Ocet. I propose that we go into business together and cut Parker Bishop out of the equation.”
Sparrow looked up at him. Then, she looked out of the viewport at the stars streaking past. “Take me back to Malta, and I’ll think about it.”
Trevor smiled. “I have concluded my business on Malta. There is nothing there for you. Our next stop is Amphictyon. While we are there, you will have time to decide if you will stay with me or return to Parker.”
“What if I don’t choose either?”
He picked up his napkin and spread it out over his lap. “The man you were with is a Parvac operative. His Empire considers you an enemy. Xavier has reported to them who you are and what you are capable of. They will continue to hunt you. He kept you calm and under his control, easily managed, until the time when he could turn you over to Parvac’s Inquisitors.”
Deep within her mind, a feeling brushed against her awareness, but then it vanished.
“
Sparrow,” he said, compelling her to look up at his solid black eyes. “Bishop forces your ingenuity into a mold of his will. He allows you to create thermo-resonator missiles and some shielding. You could do so much more. Did the weapon I used to protect you from that vile abusive miner intrigue you? If you were to agree to my patronage, you would have unlimited resources at your disposal, teams of engineers at your service, and the freedom to explore your own projects. Wouldn’t that be preferable?”
A woman brought platters of grilled fish and vegetables to the dining table and served them.
“Thank you, Avanda,” he said as he stroked his fingers across her wrist.
Avanda smiled, and her eyes lightened around the edges before she curtsied and left the way she had come.
“Bishop will either come for me himself or keep sending AIs after me until he has me back,” Sparrow said.
“Parker Bishop is a small fish attempting to survive amidst sharks. You could be more powerful than he ever dreamed of becoming. Well, enough talk of business. Please, enjoy your meal. We can revisit this conversation whenever you like.”
Chapter Twelve
It had taken more effort than expected to pull the codes from the madam’s mind. She had been preoccupied when he had arrived, but that was no longer the case. Entering the basement, Xavier quickly scanned the contents of the crates while simultaneously sending the data along with a live feed to Inquisitor Eli Beck. The contents of the crates could be used in the construction of several missiles, enough to lay siege to Talpa.
Waves of fear and panic doused Xavier’s mind as the redhead was discovered and roused from his mental construct. Having proof of the brothel’s duplicity, Xavier thought it wise to leave. However, at the basement door, he was surprised by four negligee clad prostitutes who began firing blasters at him. Xavier chuckled to himself while taking cover.
The Madam had her long, glossy brown hair up in a sleek ponytail. Her red lips matched her short, red, sheer nighty. Xavier internally debated how best to handle the situation. He returned a few blasts to keep the women at a distance and called the local Enforcers. Then, he stalled for time. He didn’t want to hurt the whores. Injuring even such duplicitous females was against his nature, but then he sensed Sparrow’s abject terror. Through her eyes, he saw an AI grab her and jump through a hole where before a wall had been.
Setting his blaster to a lower level, he began systematically to drop his female adversaries. He moved silently around crates to line up his shots. It had taken longer than he had hoped. Stepping over long, shapely legs and sets of generous breasts, Xavier ran from the brothel to his hover bike. Telepathically, he encouraged the Enforcers who had arrived to let him leave without giving them a report. Thinking fast, Xavier sped to the land port. He would never make it to her in time on the bike.
His ship had been refueled and was ready to depart. He went to the bridge, activated the command console, and pulled up the tracking software. Someone began signaling him.
“Xavier here,” he answered.
Solid black eyes and short blonde hair filled his vid-screen. “I’m tracking the flight of your little bird. The shuttle she was in went down. She’s on her way to the Cavanaugh Mine. Our course is laid in for Amphictyon. We will be watching and waiting. Bosh out.”
Xavier lifted off of Malta’s surface. Locking onto Sparrow’s coordinates, he watched and recorded as one of the Laconian Sector’s most notorious and unreachable crime lords absconded with his wife. Cold fury came close to controlling him, but he mastered it. Through Sparrow, he could control his rage. Visual proof of Ocet murdering a miner would be enough of a reason to keep him under surveillance. However, he could avoid punishment by arguing that he was defending a female. Ocet’s proximity to the brothel and its illegal contents wasn’t enough for a conviction. The male was smart enough to keep his hands clean. Ocet attempted to control Sparrow’s mind but was only able to send her to sleep.
“Can’t take control of her. Can you, you bastard? That’s because the female is mine.”
Into his thoughts, Izaac whispered, “Control yourself, brother. Remember your mission. You will have her back soon. Is she in danger? Patience.”
Xavier growled in frustration. Careful to keep his vessel hidden, he trailed after the ship in which Sparrow slept without him. Checking for an update from Malta’s Enforcers, he learned that the prostitutes had been taken into custody, and their contraband had been seized. It wouldn’t be long before their accomplices in the mines were arrested.
When Sparrow awoke, he saw and heard all that she did. Unfortunately, anything Ocet said of a compromising nature would be considered hearsay. They needed solid evidence against him. He kept Ocet’s vessel under continual observation until it docked on Amphictyon.
To those who were innocent of his corruption, Trevor Ocet was an affluent Laconian businessman dealing in luxury starships and shuttles. His ships could only be afforded by the wealthiest citizens who had credits to waste. However, this business was a front. What better way to hide a weapons smuggling operation right out in the open than to send the weapons to other systems within the starships he was selling? It explained the exorbitant prices that he set. After a close inspection, Xavier was certain to discover cheap components in a luxurious-looking shell. The ships weren’t being made to last.
With strong telepathic abilities, Ocet could easily manipulate land port authorities into believing his dealings were legitimate. Xavier was eager to question a few of Ocet’s captains. He was also eager to find out to whom Ocet had been selling his luxury starships.
Xavier watched from the back of his hover bike as Ocet took Sparrow from the land port in a shuttle. He followed. The shuttle landed on the roof of a high-rise tower. Xavier observed through Sparrow’s eyes the security scans required for entrance and let out a low whistle. Palm and retinal scans weren’t sufficient. To enter the penthouse, a full-body sonic imaging scan was required. Xavier didn’t know of anyone who could fake a skeletal system. He’d have to gain entrance through the front doors of Ocet Industries.
He parked his hover bike in a parking garage a few blocks away. Just as he secured his helmet, surprise jolted him when he found himself surrounded and the target of several blasters. The men circled around him were all full-blooded Eriopis with solid black eyes, dapper haircuts, trim suits, and shiny shoes.
“Well, aren’t you boys just adorable,” Xavier said with a smirk.
“Our employer wishes a private word with you,” one of the men said.
“Then, he shall have it,” Xavier said with a smile as he raised his hands up in surrender. It was a ploy for which they fell. Xavier grabbed the closest man’s blaster and then used him as a shield.
“Xavier! Stop! You’re hurting me!” Sparrow said.
Horrified, Xavier loosened his grip and received a jab to the throat and a knee to the kidney for it. The boys were better than he had thought. Xavier spared a moment to mentally praise their telepathic trickery. The telepaths attacked as one, like a hungry school of piranhas. Xavier centered his mind. At his full telepathic strength, he knew each of their attacks before they made them. He struck out with a spinning kick and contacted with a man’s skull. Ducking under another man’s attempt to kick him in the head, Xavier delivered a powerful strike to a sternum. Once a few of the men were down, he began sending the others into mental constructs. It was over in seconds.
Xavier shook his head at the men. Picking out the man closest to him in size, he switched clothing with him. Then, he got the man to climb into the trunk and take a nap. Into the minds of his attackers, he created a false memory of them capturing their target and placing him into the trunk. Illusions based upon reality were the simplest. Xavier took his place inside of the transport and rode with the bodyguards to an underground parking garage beneath Ocet Industries.
This wasn’t the first time that Ocet had sent his telepathic bodyguards out to forcefully invite a reticent guest for a visit. However, it was the first t
ime they had failed and had their ranks infiltrated. Believing their bound colleague to be Xavier, they roughly dragged him from the trunk.
“Reports made a big deal of him for nothing. I thought these hybrid mercenaries who we have all heard so much about were supposed to be badasses,” one of the men said.
“Just goes to show that you can’t believe all of the hype,” another man said with a snicker.
They entered the lift while supporting their unintentional prisoner. When the lift doors opened on a floor near the top of the tower, the men led their captive through an elegant waiting room where two secretaries sat at desks to either side of a set of tall chrome doors. They entered the executive office.
An angry voice asked, “What is the meaning of this?”
Xavier drew his blaster, shooting in rapid succession. Then, he stepped over the neat pile he had made of Ocet’s bodyguards. “Your men said that you wanted to see me. I trust they were sincere when they extended the invitation.”
“I warned them that you weren’t to be taken lightly,” Ocet said as he reached for something on his desk.
Xavier fired a blast over the desk’s surface that sent a vid-screen and everything else clattering down to the plush blue carpeting. “You should take your own advice.” Xavier pressed a communications link on his small vid-screen. Then, he spent a few moments strolling through Ocet’s thoughts.
Through clenched teeth, Ocet said, “You are violating my mind. There will be severe consequences for your actions,” he growled out while struggling to fight Xavier telepathically. He was angry that his neural blocker had failed him.
Furious at having found what he wanted, Xavier said into his communications link, “Level forty-seven.”
An alarm began to sound within the tower. A secretary signaled Ocet and reported, “Sir, Galaxic Militia have entered and are locking down the building….” Her words were cut off unexpectedly.
“Where is my wife?” Xavier asked.
Xavier: An Omnes Videntes Novel Page 10
