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Galen's Way: A Starquest 4th Age Adventure

Page 11

by Richard Paolinelli


  “Sounds like we had a great time,” she replied a bit impishly as she returned to the house. Galen watched her walk away.

  “Nice butt,” Cassandra quipped, but if she’d been expecting to be told to shut up again she was disappointed.

  “Yeah,” Galen replied, ignoring the incomplete tent at his feet.

  * * * * *

  Rhiannon walked back inside to collect the blankets and towels, but her mind was elsewhere. She’d thought she’d noticed him looking at her strangely over breakfast, right about the time he pointed out what she’d been wearing. But she hadn’t been certain then.

  She was certain now, after watching him as she walked up to him in this bathing suit. Stoic and unreadable as he could be when he wanted to be, she could tell that she was having an effect on him. It had been written all over his face out on the beach as she had drawn as near to him as possible without actually touching him.

  And why shouldn’t she disturb him, she thought, he was certainly having a similar effect on her as well. He’d been in her dreams all night and in her thoughts ever since she’d awakened that morning. Spotting the bear, she tried to figure out the contradictions that seemed to be at the heart of Galen Dwyn.

  A man with an artist’s soul who was capable of selling his gun or smuggling contraband or who knows what else he’d done all wrapped up in one package? How was that even possible? Why was it this man who stirred her blood in a way no other man she’d ever met had?

  And what was she doing even thinking this way? When they were literally running for their lives, when death could be waiting for them around the next turn, why was her primary thoughts on her attraction to this man?

  She should be worrying about staying alive. But even now, at this very moment, all she wanted to do was run out there, shove him into the half-erected tent, and have her way with him.

  It never occurred to her during her private soliloquy that his thoughts, as he finished constructing the tent outside, were running along the same lines. Had she known she wouldn’t have bothered gathering up the blankets and towels.

  * * * * *

  An hour later the “campsite” was complete.

  “Not bad,” Galen remarked as he gave the site one last look over. “Not bad at all. As long as we don’t get someone with an overactive curiosity gland that should do it.”

  “So what do we do now?” Rhiannon asked.

  “We wait,” he replied. “We hope they fly over and keep flying right on by. Then we can head for Arkon.”

  “In that case,” she turned toward the water. “I’m going for a swim.”

  She took a few steps, stopped at the edge of the water, and looked back over her shoulder.

  “There’s nothing dangerous in the water is there?”

  “We’re not far enough out from the mainland for that,” he replied. “The creatures out there in the sea that might select you for a snack won’t come close to the island, and the rest of the creatures in the water that will be near are going to be more scared of you than you’ll need to be of them.”

  Rhiannon waded out into the gentle surf then dove in.

  “You know it wouldn’t kill you to relax and have a little fun,” Cassandra prodded.

  “I’ll relax when half of the galaxy isn’t out looking to kill us,” he replied, needlessly adjusting the tent pole as an excuse to look somewhere else instead of out beyond the beach.

  “That’s likely to be never considering your occupation,” she retorted. “I’ve never known you not to be in the middle of trouble…Galen! A Salacian cruiser is in orbit, just coming above the horizon!”

  “How did they sneak up on you like that?”

  “I am limited in range under this canopy you know,” she shot back. “They must have come in from the dark side. There are two fighters over the mainland now and coming this way. They’ll be in scanning range in four minutes, visual in six.”

  Galen’s hand went to his left wrist, his bare left wrist. He didn’t have the scrambler on and neither did Rhea.

  “They’re on the table inside,” Cassandra pointed out even as Galen sprinted for the house. He didn’t have time to change into swimwear so he stripped his shirt and pants off once inside, leaving on only a pair of briefs on. He slapped on his scrambler, scooped up hers, and ran back outside, making a beeline for the water.

  “Rhea!” he shouted as he dove into the surf, but she was too far out to hear him. With long powerful strokes, he drove through the waves and closed the distance between them. She saw him finally and stopped to wait for him. Once he caught up to her, he didn’t waste any time explaining, grabbing her hand and clamping on the bracelet.

  “Galen, what’s going on?”

  “They’re here,” he replied around gulps of air. “They’ll be in scanning range in…”

  “Thirty seconds,” Cassandra supplied.

  “…less than a minute,” he continued. “We should have a pair of Salacian fighters overhead in less than three.”

  “I thought we’d have more warning,” Rhiannon replied, looking up at the sky.

  “So did I,” he answered, searching for signs of the approaching aircraft.

  “They are scanning now,” Cassandra reported.

  “Cass, any reaction?”

  “Nothing yet, no signals from the ship above to the fighters. But they are still coming your way. They’ll likely run facial analysis just to be sure.”

  “Well, there’s only one way I can think of to interfere in a facial scan,” he replied.

  “How?” both Cassandra and Rhiannon said in union.

  He took Rhiannon in his arms and kissed her.

  * * * * *

  The Salacian fighters closed in on the island. The ship above hadn’t found any match to the Princess’ DNA as it scanned the planet. But two people alone on an island, itself a perfect hiding spot for fugitives, required a thorough check.

  “They look like they’re having fun,” the lead pilot called out as he spotted the couple in the water, glanced over at the island and saw the campsite. “Looks like they plan to be at it for a while, too.”

  “More than we are,” his wingman agreed. “DNA scan is negative. I can’t get a good facial scan unless they decide to come up for air.”

  “I doubt we have enough fuel for that. Besides, you really think the ‘Ice Queen” would be caught fooling around with a space trash merc?”

  “Not likely,” the wingman chuckled. “I doubt any man could melt that one’s heart. Looks like we can scratch this backwater bilge hole off of the list and head for the next system.”

  “Roger that, let’s head back up to the ship,” the lead ordered.

  * * * * *

  Galen kept one eye on the passing craft as they circled overhead, turning slightly in the water to keep them in view while keeping his lips firmly planted on hers. It was the only chance to confuse the scanners and not give them enough to work with for a positive match. Rhea had wrapped her hand around his neck, further blocking the scanners’ view.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when the two craft peeled away and shot up toward their mother ship.

  “They are returning to the ship,” Cassandra confirmed. “No further scans are underway. The Salacian ship is making ready to break orbit. It worked, Galen.”

  He pulled back a little from the embrace, not letting go of Rhea, who kept her hand on his neck. He suddenly realized he’d never noticed how green her eyes were before.

  “It worked,” he said, his voice sounded strange to his own ears. “They’re leaving. I think we should…”

  “Yes,” she replied softly. “I think we should.”

  She pulled his head down and kissed him again.

  * * * * *

  “The Bata’van cruiser isn’t even bothering with entering orbit, Galen,” Cassandra reported. “They’re bathing the planet with a DNA scan.”

  Lying on the blanket on the warm beach sand the next day, both with their scramblers on, Rhea was asleep and had
her head on Galen’s bare chest. He waited, knowing Cassandra would update him as needed.

  “They’re continuing on,” she reported a minute later. “They’re not even bothering to send a scout out for visual scans.”

  “It’s the last place anyone would expect us to hide,” Galen replied quietly. “We’ll give it another day, just to make sure, and then we’ll pick up Lir and get out of here. With any luck, they’ll keep looking in the wrong direction until we can get this resolved.”

  “What’s the rush?” she teased. “It’s nice to see you finally relaxing, and I must say, as a lifelong voyeur, that you two…”

  “Cass…,” he replied softly.

  “Shut up,” they said in unison.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Four days!” Napat thundered. “We’ve had every ship in the fleet scouring every habitable system in range for four days, and you tell me you still haven’t found them! Not even a trace of them since they departed Nammu!”

  Eldereef weathered the storm. He’d pretty much unleashed a similar tirade upon his people when the negative reports poured in without so much as one single lead presenting itself.

  “It’s as if a black hole swallowed them up,” Napat slammed the file down on his desk in frustration.

  “It would appear we have underestimated this Galen Dwyn,” Eldereef replied.

  “Did he decide he had no option to return the woman and just took off for deep space?” Napat asked.

  “That is the assessment of a majority of our ship commanders,” Eldereef answered. “They think he decided his best chance to survive was to risk the unknowns of the unexplored sectors of the galaxy.”

  “Meaning, we’ll never find him if that is what he’s done?”

  “That is most likely, yes,” Eldereef admitted. “But I don’t think that is what he has done. I’ve been studying his file, especially what he has done since leaving the Bata’van. He does not strike me as a man who runs away easily.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “That we may not need to do anything more than wait a little while longer,” Eldereef suggested. “When he is ready, he’ll likely come to us.”

  “I don’t have the luxury of time,” Napat pointed out.

  “I doubt he’ll wait too long, my friend.”

  “Fine then. We’ll wait a bit longer,” Napat agreed. “But I want you to have a plan in place to deal with Iodocus before the Senate convenes in case this Dwyn doesn’t present himself in time.”

  “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “If Dwyn does not surface soon, and we are unable to collect the evidence we need,” Napat ordered. “I want Iodocus in his grave before the Senate meets for the vote.”

  “I doubt that would save you in that chamber. They would all know why you had him killed.”

  “No, it won’t save me,” Napat agreed. “But I’ll be damned if I’ll let that madman live to see me thrown out of this office.”

  * * * * *

  “A slip of a girl and an ape for hire and you’re telling me we can’t run them down?” Iodocus raged in his private quarters.

  “Sire, I…” Harmool began.

  “I tire of hearing excuses, Harmool. I was under the impression that you were competent enough to handle killing four airheaded women.”

  “There is always the risk of the unexpected…”

  “I seem to recall someone telling me that the plan was foolproof, Harmool,” the King replied, implying Harmool had spoken those words. Harmool knew for a fact he had said no such thing. But one did not dispute the word of an outraged king, not if one wished to keep one’s head firmly upon one’s shoulders.

  “Sire, I am certain…,” this time he was interrupted by an aide entering the room. The young man handed Harmool a note.

  “Well, what is it now?” Iodocus demanded.

  “More information on Dwyn,” Harmool reported as he read. “He is close to a former Academy instructor, a man named Lir Fiachra. This Fiachra is a university professor on Belisama.”

  “One of our ships just scanned Belisama two days ago, sire,” the aide offered. “They weren’t on the planet.”

  “So this information is of no use then,” Iodocus snorted in disgust.

  “Not necessarily,” Harmool corrected. “This Fiachra might still be in contact with Dwyn. We might even be able to use him to lead us to the man we seek.

  “Order that ship to return to Belisama immediately,” Harmool ordered his aide. “Find this Fiachra and interrogate him until he gives us something that will get us to where Dwyn is hiding.”

  “At once, sir, sire,” the man saluted Harmool, bowed to the King and fled the room.

  “We’ll find him, sire, no matter what hole that he has crawled into,” Harmool promised as he followed the aide out the door. “We’ll have results.”

  “You’d better, Harmool,” Iodocus replied, and Harmool felt his blood turn to ice at the tone.

  * * * * *

  Ellaneiri stared into the roaring fire, wishing the flames could warm the fear chilling his heart. His daughter was alive, the medicos assuring him she would suffer no long term effects from her ordeal. They’d refused to allow him to see any of the recordings from the Jakamal device. He’d been waiting outside while the doctors viewed them before erasing them. Whatever they’d seen had left them pale, visibly shaken. Professionals who’d seen many things during their time without flinching, and yet this had visibly shaken them.

  His anger only grew at the sight. He would have whoever was responsible for this outrage drawn and quartered if it was the last thing he did. The father wanted blood now, no matter the price. But as the First Prime of his people, that man had to measure his actions against the price his people would pay if he failed.

  “Sir, they are waiting for a reply.”

  He’d forgotten the aide standing near the door.

  “The ambassadors have confirmed the meeting?” he replied.

  “Yes, sir. When you arrive the day before the session, an antechamber in the Senate has been reserved. Your opposites from Axaltier and Y’pslandi have agreed to meet with you to discuss your proposal. But they wish to know if you intend to move against Salacia, the Chancellor, or both?”

  Ellaneiri looked back into the fire. That was the question, wasn’t it, he thought. And the damnable thing about it was that he honestly didn’t know the answer himself.

  “Tell them,” he said aloud, paused for a moment and then continued. “Tell them I haven’t decided yet. Add that I suggest they should reach out and see what other systems will stand with us before we make any final decision.”

  The aide nodded and left the room.

  Should we let Iodocus and Napat slug it out first? Should we side with Napat against Iodocus and hope the rest of the Alliance falls in line?

  The questions haunted him. No matter how he answered them, they all seemed to end in the Alliance shattering into a civil war.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Welcome aboard the Tempest,” Galen greeted his mentor after landing on an open field near the university.

  “I was beginning to think you’d left without me,” Lir said as he came aboard with a couple of bags. “The last ship passed by a day and a half ago. I figured you’d be on your way within the hour.”

  “Well,” Galen shrugged as he took Lir’s baggage and carried it to the passenger cabin. “I figured it made sense to wait and make sure they kept on going.”

  “Of course,” Lir replied, wondering silently where the third member of this crew, who was now approaching, was going to be sleeping on this journey. “Good afternoon, dear lady, you look well rested. I take it your vacation on the island was restorative.”

  “Lots of sun and swimming,” she replied. “And good afternoon to you, Professor. Galen,” Galen and not Captain!, Lir noted while keeping his face neutral as she rested a hand on Galen’s shoulder with apparent familiarity, “Cassandra says there’s a perfect hole coming up in the satellite
nets in a few minutes. If we hurry, we can’t leave without anyone noticing.”

  “Why didn’t she just tell me?” Galen asked.

  “Because, silly,” Silly?!, Lir had to fight to keep his eyebrows on his forehead. No one called Galen Dwyn ‘silly’ and lived to tell the story. “You were outside and you forgot this. I told her I’d relay the message.”

  The Princess produced his com bud and then undertook the job of putting it in place.

  “Thank you, Rhea.” He gave her a nod and then turned his attention to the AI. “Cass. In case it slipped your notice, I’ve been back inside for at least a minute.”

  “Next time don’t forget you com bud,” she smarted off.

  “Noted,” he shook his head. “Since we’re all aboard now, maybe you could get us going before we lose that perfect window.”

  “On our way now, Captain,” Cassandra replied primly.

  “I’ll go up front and keep an eye out,” the Princess said before heading for the flight deck. Lir folded his arms across his chest and stared at Galen.

  “What?” Galen demanded.

  “Rhea? You two seem to be, shall we say, getting along nicely.” Lir enjoyed seeing the flash of color across the face of the usually-unflappable Dwyn.

  “I don’t run a formal ship, old man,” Galen tried to evade.

  “I’m old, boy, not senile.”

  Galen tried to stare his mentor down and found it to be a losing battle from the start. He reached up and pulled out the com bud, handing it over to Lir.

  “Here,” he said, “since the two of you can’t seem to enjoy your own, feel free to compare notes on my love life.”

  Lir chuckled, set the bud down on a nearby desk for Galen to reclaim later, and decided to toss in one last needle.

  “Welcome to the Hominid race, my boy, I was beginning to wonder if you ever going to discover just how good it can be.”

 

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