by V. E. Lemp
“We’ve heard this,” Aaron said, “from Mark and Karen, among others.” He glanced at Sam. “So I’m inclined to believe what you say, despite my initial doubts.”
Ariel rose to her feet. “Alice assisted in the rescue when Karen and I were kidnapped. And my dad trusts her. That’s enough for me.”
Alice gave her a faint smile. “I thank you, Ariel Tarrow. Now, if everyone is agreed, I will tell you of my own plans to thwart Ian Vance and Exocorp. Plans that involve a war among my own people. The one thing”—she bent her head slightly—“I had hoped to prevent. But it is no longer possible.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mark said.
“It is a great tragedy,” Douglas said. “But our universe is full of such things.” He glanced at Karen, who met his gaze with a sad smile.
“Our goal now is to prevent our war from touching the earth,” Alice said. “To this end, we will assist you in every way possible. The first step is to shut down Exocorp and remove any incentive for those of my kind to bring our conflict to your world.”
Lee strode forward to face Alice. “If you will reveal yourselves to everyone on Earth—truly show what you are—it would go a long way toward achieving your goals.”
“Myron Tarrow has already done that,” Alice said, meeting Lee’s fierce gaze without flinching. “And I have arranged demonstrations in the past. Some still do not believe. Some never shall.” She turned her dark head and stared at Alex. “But I am not opposed to anyone speaking the truth.”
“That may not be possible…” Alex closed his lips over the last word.
“I think,” Mark said quickly, “we should all sit down and discuss our current plans with Alice and Douglas. Then they can provide us with their ideas and insights. And while you all solve the problems of the universe”—he smiled at everyone in the room—“I’ll take drink orders.”
Later, after the talk had faded into several small group discussions, Karen made her way into the kitchen. She braced her hands against the counter and stared into the polished surface of the toaster.
“You look like hell,” she told her wavering reflection.
“Just what I was going to say.” Thea walked up beside her. “What’s up with you, anyway? You’re too damned skinny, and you’re so pale you glow.”
“Oh, Thea.” Karen turned and fell into her old friend’s arms. She didn’t want to talk about her illness, but knew it was too late. Once Thea had developed any suspicions, she would never give up her quest for the truth.
So Karen explained her diagnosis, speaking quickly so Thea couldn’t say anything in reply. When she lifted her head and looked into Thea’s face, she burst into tears.
“Not you too,” Thea said, sniffling. Her cheeks were damp, and water dripped off her chin. “Oh, hell. Why have you kept your mouth zipped about this, girl?” She grabbed a paper towel and wiped her face.
“I didn’t want to concern everyone, didn’t know what I wanted to do as far as treatments, didn’t…” Karen brushed away tears with one hand. “Didn’t want to make it real, I guess.”
“Well, now I know, and I’m going to help you, like it or not.”
“We always welcome your help,” Mark said.
Karen turned to face him. “Sneaking up on us?”
“Wasn’t difficult with you both blubbering away.”
Thea wiped her nose on the paper towel. “Okay, Mr. Smart-ass. You’re on my list too. You should have spilled the beans.”
Mark raised his eyebrows. “What, and break a promise to Karen?”
Thea wrinkled her nose at him. “And here I thought we had an understanding.”
Aaron popped his head around the archway. “Several people are leaving now, if you want to say goodbye.”
“Be right there,” Karen said. As Mark turned toward the door, she noticed his cheery expression slip into a worried frown. “Something wrong?”
“No, no,” he said. “Finish wiping your eyes, then grab my arm so we can walk out and offer a proper goodbye to our guests.”
Thea batted her eyes. “Can I grab your other arm, Mark?”
“Of course, you little flirt.” Mark held out both arms. “Come on, I can manage you both.”
Thea took hold of his forearm with a laugh. “Mark, honey, you can’t manage Karen, let alone me, and you know it.”
He nodded as he slipped his other hand through the crook of Karen’s elbow. “Yes, unfortunately, I know it all too well.”
Alex was still huddled in one corner talking with Alice and Douglas when Mark closed the front door on the last of the other guests.
“What are they going on about?” Karen asked, following Mark back into the living room. “Such a deep discussion.”
“Oh, you know Alex.” Mark glanced down at her, his eyes shadowed behind the lenses of his glasses. “He’s probably telling them the best way to run their own world.”
“Now, now.” Karen tapped the back of his hand. But she laughed.
“Here, why don’t you sit down?” Mark took her by the elbow and guided her to the sofa. “You’ve been on your feet for quite some time.”
“I’d say I was fine, but truthfully, I’d love to collapse for a moment.” Karen settled on the sofa and dropped her head back. “Ah, relief.”
Mark sat on the edge of the sofa. “Holding up okay?”
“Yes, I’m managing.” Karen gazed at him speculatively. “Of course, you do realize, now that Thea knows, she’s going to be here every other day, don’t you?”
“She wants to help,” Mark said, his expression suddenly sober. “As do we all.”
“I know, I know.” Karen slumped back against the cushions. “I just hate being an invalid. Such a bore.”
“A bore?” Mark shook his head. “Not terrifying, just a bore?”
“Well,” Karen laid one hand against his chest. “It is terrifying, actually. I just don’t like to…”
“Admit it?”
“Yes.”
“All right, you rest. I need to do something for a few minutes. Yell if Alex and the others decide to leave, will you?” Mark rose to his feet.
“Okay.” Karen cast another quick glance at the group in the far corner of the room.
Mark strode off, heading for the bedroom. Karen idly wondered what he needed to do, then shrugged and sank down into the soft sofa cushions. Probably some phone call to one of his agents, or some such thing. She’d long since stopped trying to understand all his actions.
Karen closed her eyes. When she opened them the front windows were a dark mirror. “Oh dear,” she said, struggling to straighten up, “I fell asleep, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.” Mark was once again sitting on the edge of the sofa. “But I’m sure you needed the rest.”
“Is everyone gone?” Karen glanced around the room and was startled to see Alex walking toward her, flanked by Alice and Douglas. “But—you’re still here?”
“We are here, Karen,” Alice said, “because we have not yet completed our mission.”
The two avatars stood over her, with Alex behind them, his golden head held high above their dark ones. Karen looked from Alice to Douglas and was astonished by the depth of sympathy she detected in their alien eyes.
“What exactly,” she said sharply, pushing herself up straighter, “is going on here?” She stared at Mark, whose face was frozen, like a mask. She glanced down and noticed one of his hands was resting on a suitcase. “What’s this?”
Mark leaned in and took her face in his hands. “This is me,” he said, his voice shaking in a manner utterly foreign to her experience, “saving your life. This is me breaking a promise to you for the first time.” He kissed her full on the mouth, a kiss that held despair mingled with passion. “This is me,” he said very softly, as he sat back and stared into her eyes, “loving you more than I can say.” He released her and rose swiftly to his feet.
“Take her.” He turned away. “Take her now.”
Karen gasped and threw up h
er arms, but Alice and Douglas simply stepped forward and gently clasped her hands. Their touch flowed through her body, turning all her blood to lead. She fought to keep her eyes open, to no avail. “Damn it, you promised,” she muttered as a familiar pair of arms lifted her from the sofa. She was able to open her eyes for one second and stare up into Alex’s face. “Damn you both.”
“Sorry, my sweet. You’ve a right to be angry.” Alex’s voice rang in her ears as she slipped into darkness. “But you see, we both love you too much to keep that promise.”
Karen woke in a small, windowless room. Hospital, perhaps. Her mind swirled in confusion. She had no memory of arriving at this location.
She sat up slowly and gazed about the room. All the surfaces were a smooth, shiny metal. There was nothing in the room except the narrow bed and a set of drawers built into the wall. Next to the drawers was a set of hooks, one of which held her fleece jacket. Beneath the hooks she noticed an object that looked out of place in this sterile cubicle. Her suitcase.
Karen threw back the thin blanket covering her and stared at her body. She was wearing a plain gray t-shirt and loose gray cotton shorts. As she slid her hand over her limbs she noted the thick stubble on her legs. She’d obviously been out for some time.
She climbed out of bed and made her way to the room’s single door. To her surprise, it opened at her touch. She stepped into a hallway and examined her surroundings. The hall was bleak, all of its surfaces metallic, lending it a cold, clinical atmosphere. There were no windows—the only light came from illuminated panels in the ceiling.
Karen wandered along two similar halls until she found a flight of stairs that led down to an open area housing computer stations and other pieces of equipment. It was some type of laboratory.
“Oh no,” Karen said, backing away. “I know this place. I can’t be here.” She turned and strode as fast as possible in the opposite direction, sliding her hand along the slick walls to keep herself upright. Turning a corner, she finally spied light bleeding around a large metal door at the end of the hall.
Karen stumbled toward the door, falling against the adjacent wall. She pressed her hand to the door panel, and it slid open without a sound. As she stepped into the room she noticed familiar objects piled in one corner—her portfolio and numerous bins holding art supplies. A standing easel was balanced against a large stack of blank canvases.
This room was larger than she expected. She could not see into all its shadowed recesses but noted a dining table anchored by a brightly colored rug. A small sofa and several comfortable chairs were clustered about another rug, and there was a kitchenette tucked into an alcove along one wall.
Karen crept forward, scanning the strange room, its human touches appearing like pathetic, scattered toys within the cold metal envelope of its walls and high, rounded ceiling. She noticed a dark patch on the opposite wall and walked toward it, assuming it was some type of monitor or screen. As she drew closer, a flash of movement caught her eye, and she swiftly turned her head.
“Hello, Karen,” Alex said.
She stared at him, incapable of speech.
“We decided you shouldn’t be alone.” He was still hidden in the shadows, though a small pinpoint of light glinted off his hair. “That would be too cruel, as I well know. Mark can’t disappear without raising alarms, and he also needs to cover for you. Besides, since I have some experience with this place, we thought I should be the one to accompany you.” He stepped forward into the light.
“Where the hell am I?” Karen asked at last.
“Don’t you know?” Alex moved close to her and took her by the arm. “Look. He turned her about until she was facing the large dark patch on the wall. “What do you see?”
Karen shook off his hand and walked forward until her face was pressed against the dark rectangle. It was smooth and cool, like glass. She gazed through its thick surface and realized she wasn’t looking at any monitor or screen. It was a window, and everything beyond it was black, save for bright spots of white cast like loose diamonds across the velvet darkness.
Karen knew where she was, at last. She was far from home, far from Earth. She was staring into the vastness of space.
“What have you done?” she whispered, as Alex stepped up close behind her and laid one hand on her shoulder. “Whatever have you done?”
“The only thing we could do,” Alex said. “The only thing our hearts would allow. We have saved you, Karen.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I wish to thank the following people for their contributions to this book:
My editor, Annie Cosby – thanks, once again, for your editing expertise and wise advice.
Francis Black of Literary Counsel, my insightful and supportive agent – thanks for always being there to answer my questions, as well as for your hard work on my behalf. I deeply appreciate your support of my self-publishing efforts.
Many heartfelt thanks to my critique partners – Lindsey Duga and Richard Pearson. I couldn’t have kept going without your critiques, advice, and friendship.
Mary Beard – thanks for being such a devoted beta reader.
My cover artist, Anne Drury – another gorgeous design that perfectly captures the book. Thank you!
My cover and interior formatter, Veronica Bartles of VBartles Design – thanks for making this book look beautiful and professional.
Last, but certainly not least, my husband Kevin G. Weavil – thank you for being my best beta reader and fan. Your belief in my work means the world to me.
ALSO AVAILABLE NOW:
Book One in THE OTHERS Series
Artist Karen Foster draws while dreaming. Scientists label her a valuable commodity. Aliens call her their perfect messenger.
Seeking money for art supplies, Karen is thrilled when charming researcher Alex Wythe recruits her for a dream study called the Morpheus Project. But the Morpheus Project is not what it seems, and neither are the detailed technical illustrations Karen draws in her sleep.
Warned off by government agent Mark Hallam, Karen refuses to leave the project, even after her fellow subjects suffer breakdowns. Like the sun, her love for Alex blinds her.
Karen believes their love is forever, until a tragic accident blasts both their lives.
Aided by Mark—as well as a UFO investigator, his psychic daughter, and the dark-eyed strangers who haunt her dreams—Karen must fight to uncover the truth.
A truth that includes humans trading lives for profits—and a powerful cabal that will kill to keep such secrets from the world.
A truth that unveils the ultimate, terrifying, reality –
We have never been alone.
AND COMING IN 2018 –
Book Three in THE OTHERS Trilogy
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
V. E. Lemp is a librarian turned author, and a lifelong science fiction and fantasy fan.
She loves speculative fiction in all formats, including books, television, and film. She also admits an unhealthy obsession with television shows that document extraterrestrial encounters and UFO sightings, and enjoys programs that present mind-expanding examinations of scientific discoveries and theories.
She believes the most important question is always: “What if?”
V. E. Lemp, who also writes in other genres under the pennames Vicki L. Weavil and Victoria Gilbert, is represented by Frances Black of Literary Counsel, NYC.
You can find and follow V. E. Lemp online here:
Website/blog: vickilweavil.com/
Twitter: @VickiLWeavil
Facebook: facebook.com/VickiLempWeavil
Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/15507408.V_E_Lemp
Pinterest: pinterest.com/vickilweavil/
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Acknowledgements
Also Available Now:
About the Author
