Sobering, she said, “I really need to find some way to make contact with Earth. Can you help me?”
“I am for sure someone in this crowd will know.” He surveyed the public area, his gaze resting upon one person after another before he shook his head. “I come up with nothing. No one thinking along those lines now. Maybe in minute.”
Odessa gasped in shock. “You mean you can get into all these people’s minds at once?”
He appeared baffled by her astonishment. He nodded. The toupee slid even farther over his ear. “Almost everyone except for the Delorican. I cannot read his mind. He has, let me think, a shield for blocking.”
“A shield for blocking?” Odessa had watched plenty of videographs where those who were telepathic wished their thoughts to remain private.
“Yes. It is mechanism for sealing thinking, like taking piece of oszma and wrapping it in plastic to seal in flavours.”
“Oszma? Is that some kind of food?”
“It is equivalent of your gobble, gobble.”
She smiled at that Ashtari’s language. “‘Gobble, gobble’ is a sound a turkey makes. A turkey is a fowl, that’s the right word you’re looking for.”
“My humble apologies. I am still fine-tuning my translator. It need help sometimes.”
She touched his wrist. “You are doing fine. Are there many Ashtaris on Romaydia?”
His eyes turned from black to dirty brown before they became obsidian again. “I am sorry. I hear in my head talk about drug trading. Only a poppet, but it was enough to know it is fearsome.”
A poppet and drug dealing? “You must mean a ‘snippet’, a fragment of a conversation,” Odessa guessed.
“Yes, I am sorry once again. I overhear man over there. He is man not to come in contact with.”
Odessa glanced in the direction he indicated. A chill passed down her spine. If she wasn’t mistaken, the Ashtari had just referred to Harley.
Chapter Seven
Violette watched the exchange between the Ashtari and the woman who had found herself stranded on Romaydia. What could she do to save the woman from the same fate that had befallen Violette? Apparently her warning hadn’t been strong enough. She sniffed at the cloyingly humid air and brushed away the tears trickling down her cheeks.
The woman was beautiful, and would be a hot commodity if she didn’t get away. Violette had no idea what Pardua’s right-hand man was up to, but she was willing to bet it wasn’t what the woman would want. Dakoda Harley yielded an iron fist, and therefore the woman was certainly in a great deal of danger.
If the last fifteen years had taught Violette how to instantly judge a man, though, she figured Harley was not an insensitive, uncaring man he portrayed himself to be. No, he was shrewd. She could tell that even from this distance. Watching him was her sole pleasure on the station, the devil-taken flotsam. He had power, and she enjoyed seeing him wield it with that unaffected mannerism he assumed.
She pressed her back against the firm bulwark. What she wouldn’t give to leave Romaydia. Violette patted her flat stomach, knowing there was no spare flesh on her voluptuous body. She chuckled. Once, in a better time and place, she had believed dieting was the key to a model-thin body. Her tiny smile flickered and died. Lack of food was the best method of losing weight. That, and worry that she wouldn’t survive another day.
To take her mind off her unending problems, she watched the public area for women who were in need of her services. No female should be left without a semblance of protection when they arrived. Over the years, she had seen many women left to fend for themselves after their men had deserted them. Some, even after ten years, insisted that their special man would return for them, though they never did. After ten months, perhaps, but not after years. Life was worth nothing on Romaydia. Oddly enough, Romaydia meant, in Delorican, ‘faceless light’.
Violette observed the Ashtari, a race known for the careful upbringing of their offspring, speak to Odessa as if she were part of his own people. A rare occurrence, but he must have found her mannerisms amusing, or he considered her to be an affable woman to deal with. Violette sighed. Wait for a couple of years, my Ashtari friend, and when you return, you won’t recognise this vivacious extrovert. Like all the prisoners of the station, she would eventually decline to speak to anyone unless she wanted to procure a man who would pay her well for a few minutes of lying on her back.
Many women on Romaydia didn’t even live two years after their arrival. With the transient population made wholly of males from diverse cultures, the chances she would be spirited away or killed were over seventy per cent, too high a percentage to buck the odds. Violette had seen too many women murdered or vanished into the stinking air. The pretty one seemed no different from the other women.
If that was true, why had Dakoda Harley taken her under his wing?
Chapter Eight
Odessa wanted to flee again. Was there no place on Romaydia away from Harley’s gaze? Why was he following her? Hadn’t she told him she didn’t require his protection, that she needed nothing from him? But was he aware of her presence?
He wove in and out of the crowd, as if he was doing nothing more than sightseeing among his fellow travellers. Was he on the prowl, searching for her so he could turn her over to the Murrach?
The little Ashtari’s warning made her uneasy. “Why are you telling me?”
“I do not read his mind. He is Murrach Pardua’s first lieutenant. It is foolishness to delve into his thoughts. I am for certain he is a good man, but he is on wrong side.”
“Wrong side of what?”
“The law, so you speak.”
With her eyes, she trailed after Harley. He didn’t appear to be like Roland. Her former fiancé had had a weak chin and a furtive look to his eyes, but Harley hadn’t flinched when he’d looked straight at her. He was taller and leaner, and physically fit, judging from his fine build. Why did she have such rotten luck with men? She’d fallen in love with Roland, who had mistreated her, and earlier she could so easily have made love to Dakoda Harley.
Harley hadn’t seen her yet. “Who is he looking for?”
“Are you in trouble?”
“He might be looking for me. To turn me in to the Murrach. Whoever he is.”
“What foolish act do you commit for him to notice you?”
Odessa debated. Should she lie to the Ashtari? She opted for the truth as she knew it. “Nothing. I didn’t do a thing.” Except agree to come here to marry a man she’d known was wrong for her.
“He is man with much revenge in his heart. That is two reasons to stay far from him.”
Light-headedness from worry and lack of food made her reel against the wall.
“You are ill,” the Ashtari said. “I take you to my chambers to rest. I do not know of medic here.”
“They probably let sick people die here,” she muttered, clamping a palm to her clammy forehead, afraid she would lose consciousness. The station spun for a few seconds before the world righted itself. Odessa took a deep breath and exhaled.
“I not certain that is not true, but please to come with me. That man is danger to you, to me, to all of us if he works for Pardua.”
He placed a comforting hand to her elbow to steady her. At least he seemed to have no interest in taking her clothes off. Should she take up on his offer on the chance he meant her no harm, or was this a ruse to get her into his private area so he could hurt her?
“Is for certain. I have no interest in naked body you can offer this Ashtari,” he confirmed with a small laugh. He steered her in the opposite direction to the one Harley was circling in.
She’d forgotten he could read her mind as easily as she could read a shopping list. “Are you able to shield my thoughts from others?”
His face saddened. “If I was able to hide your thoughts, so you would be able to hide them yourself. But for human, it is not possible.”
“Without turning around, do you know if that man is following us?”
The Ashtari laughed. “Yes, I can do that. He is not following. Yet.”
Odessa halted in mid-step. “What do you mean ‘yet’?”
“He looking with his eyes but his heart is too angry to see.”
“That sounds like a riddle. I don’t understand. Is he angry with himself or with the world?”
“Any man who foolish enough to work for Pardua can only be angry with himself. He has no other option. Something must drive him to do what he does.”
“Have you met Harley before?”
The Ashtari shook his head. “I not know him. I only hear of him. He is not man to deal with lightly. In fact, you are best to stay well clear of him. If he is searching for you, it is best you leave Romaydia. No good can come of getting his attention especially, as you say, you did nothing to him.”
Would the Ashtari find some way to harm her in his quarters on this hostile station?
“Will you like me to answer that question?”
“I’m sorry. It takes some getting used to, knowing that someone is listening in on my thoughts.”
“My apologies,” the Ashtari said with a gallant bow. “I am not well-versed in ways of keeping my mind from reading that of others.”
“Is Dakoda following us now?” Odessa asked, trailing along beside the little fellow.
“He is not, but he stopped and is looking down this corridor. If you stay to the left of me, one eighth of a choka distance, he will not see you.”
“Why not?” Odessa asked, wondering exactly how much one eighth of a choka was. Was it six feet? Or three? She couldn’t be certain.
“I do quick calculation. It is nearly two of your feet. My apologies again.”
“Where is he now?”
“His position has not altered relative to yours.”
They kept walking, but Odessa’s vision blurred. She wondered if the Ashtari’s quarters were a long distance away. Not having breakfast couldn’t possibly have affected her so much. She felt exhausted, as if she had been hit by a Winger.
“It is only half a choka away,” he said. “My apologies if I intrude into your mind, but you are exhausted. There is something in your body that is beginning to hinder my reading you.”
“I am only tired,” she quipped. “Being dumped by a man I was about to marry, being shot at and almost losing my life in a concourse, would definitely do that.”
“Assuredly.” He stopped at a doorway and slid his hand across the scanner to allow them entrance. She barely made it to the plush couch before she collapsed.
“Be safe now, little one. I have shielded my quarters so none may find you, even the great Lord Pardua himself,” were the last words she heard before she fell unconscious.
Odessa dreamed of wearing a tight-fitting helmet. It was as black as the Ashtari’s eyes and fit over her head to leave no space around her ears or the back of her head. A thin plastic shield that rippled with each shake of her head partially obscured her vision.
The helmet began to vibrate with the sound of rocks rolling down a mountain. The noise engulfed her, and she was among the rocks and the leaves and the total devastation of her wandering soul, which was lost, but everywhere.
The pounding roared through her body, causing her to stop in her tracks. As if she had ever had feet to propel herself forward with. Or a mind to think with. Her mind and her soul were overtaken by the sounds of thundering and crashing and whispering.
Visions of loveliness alternated with visions of such devastation that she trembled in reluctant anticipation of each view. The waterfalls in Washington State and the grand pines of the Wenatchee Forest took turns with scenes of horror from wars gone by, and perhaps wars to come.
The gruesome war scenes, with their dead and dying soldiers on battlefields drenched with blood, were replaced by sexual fantasies on the seashore. Palm trees weaved in a slight breeze and cooled her burning flesh. She wore nothing and the sun bathed everything about her in a warm, golden glow. Normally her nudity would have bothered her, but not now. Here there was time to enjoy everything, with the men walking towards her. To her delight, one was Harley. They were as naked as she was. There were three, with huge cocks, larger than she’d ever seen in her life. She rose from the heated sand and waved in greeting. When they sauntered up to her, Harley took her in his huge arms and kissed her. Her breath hitched. She wanted him so much and wondered why he’d brought the other males. More flesh, more fun.
She giggled as one strolled behind her and kissed the back of her neck. His rod was thick and full next to her ass. Would he plunge into her sheath doggy style? Roland had taught her that simple move, which heightened her pleasure.
Someone’s voice intruded on her dream. “Odessa?”
“Go away,” she muttered, trying to regain the soothing peace she hadn’t experienced since before her mother had died when she was nine.
“Odessa?” the voice called out again, louder this time. Her blissful peace was being shattered.
“Odessa! You must come away right now,” the intrusive sound insisted. “You must come away, or you will be lost forever.”
“No,” she moaned, unwilling to end her idyllic stay at the beach. It must be her mother calling her, attempting to beckon her in for supper. Odessa resented having to get out of the warm, sea-green water. A wave dashed up, and she slapped at the foam, delighted and laughing with an enthusiasm she hadn’t felt in many years. The joys and comforts of childhood beckoned to her.
The episode at the beach ended the same way a rockslide toppled over a mountain climber on his rugged journey. Odessa stood in a vast greyness with no colour, no sound, no taste, no sense of touch.
“Do you think she realises what is happening?” the voice asked, as if speaking to someone else.
Another voice, darker and deeper, replied, “I imagine so. The nanos do a wonderful job of entertaining her while we do what we must.”
Odessa didn’t recognise the two speakers, but fear welled up from some deep recess. Were her body and her mind separated, or were they two halves of a whole beyond repair?
She tried to scream but no noise came. This could be a nightmare, a premonition of her death. She tried to call out. Oh God, how she wanted to be back in the warm ocean, reliving her happy memories.
Had the terror ended? She spoke, but her voice was lost in the eerie vacuum. Odessa drummed her fingers against a cold metal surface. Relief flooded her at the faint vibration tingling through her digits. She tried to blink her eyes open but something pressed against her eyelids, keeping them shut, and gripped her forehead in a burning fire.
She existed, yet she did not. All she could hear was her frantic breathing and the sound of her lips whispering her name, trying to hang on to what little was left of who she thought she might be.
Chapter Nine
In Washington State
“I can’t imagine where she could have gone,” Brody Grante told his brother as they dragged themselves from the orchards into the house. Twilight bathed the apple trees. “In the last few days, I’m sure we’ve searched every nook and cranny of the state of Washington. But no little sister. It’s like she’s simply vanished off the face of the Earth.
“Yep.”
Brody knew exactly what Jason was going to say before he said it, and silently mouthed the words along with his twin brother. “When I find that gal, I’m gonna tan her hide so she can’t sit for a whole week.” Brody paused. Most folks would have thought Jason was done with his little speech. Nope. Not yet. “Naw. A whole month is better.”
“Now are you finished?” Brody asked, scratching his head and yawning. One look at the kitchen told him their supper would have to be a simple affair, since soiled dishes were stacked high wherever he cared to look. Good thing he didn’t need to make a phone call. The phone book was under a stack of soup dishes leaning at a crazy angle towards the wall. Spilt milk pooled at one end of the counter near the dish tray.
“Finished what?”
“Yabbering.”
&nbs
p; “There is no such word as yabbering.”
“There is now.” Brody punched his brother playfully in the shoulder.
“Ow! Will you cut that out?” Jason exclaimed, palming his shoulder, although Brody hadn’t hit him that hard.
“Come off it, Jas. We’re built like Sumo wrestlers.”
Jason seemed to brighten at the thought. “Yeah, and you make up words like one. But you’re right, there isn’t much that will get the Three Musketeers down.” His deep brown eyes immediately saddened. “Make it two until we find the third.”
“I don’t understand how Odessa could have gone AWOL.”
That bothered Brody more than he’d let on. “I don’t understand how we could let the kitchen go like this. It needs to be bulldozed and rebuilt.”
“I’m bettin’ it’s that red-haired guy she waltzed off with.”
“Maybe bulldozing is too good for it. Maybe burned. How long is it going to take to clean this place up?”
“More’n five minutes, for sure.”
“That’s how long your attention span is, huh?” Brody ribbed.
“It must have been that guy who was built like a russet potato. You know the one I mean?”
“Are you going to pitch in?”
“Nope. Couldn’t have been him. He looked more like a Gala apple, all shiny and red.”
Brody sighed and wiped a hand across his face. In this mess, he’d have to settle for a beer. He opened the fridge and a greenish-blue liquid oozed out onto the black and white floor tiles. “Maybe bulldozing and burning the place wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“That guy was all talk but no substance. That was him.” Jason lifted his shirt and scratched his abs. “Are you going to clean that up or what? What smells like it died in there? Whew! Bad stuff.”
“I can’t decide whether to bulldoze or burn. Got any suggestions?”
“Clean the damned thing out. It stinks.” The matter already dismissed, Jason turned away and settled his bulk at the dining table, which hadn’t fared much better than the counters. “He kept telling me some far-fetched story he was a starship pilot, but he didn’t look like one to me. You know?”
Whispers in the Dawn Page 6
