Lines on the monitor squiggled erratically. His lips parted.
“Time to wake up and report to the bridge, Mister.”
She dipped and brushed more coffee along his mouth. His eyelids fluttered.
Amanda gasped, “Merek!”
A tongue tip came out and glided along the open lips. A groan issued out of his mouth. His eyes blinked open.
“Coffee always wakes me up,” she explained to the disbelieving faces in the room.
Jay Luttrell came barging in. “Merek’s conscious.” He stopped short when he saw Elise. “Elise,” he said. His face clouded over when he noticed Richard with her. “Steele.” He nodded in Richard’s direction.
Richard smirked at him.
He frowned in response.
Elise leaned down to kiss Merek’s cheek. “Hurry and get well, my number one guard. I need you.”
She turned to Amanda, handing her the cup. “He’s all yours for now, but I expect him back on duty before long.” Swinging around to face Richard, she clapped her hands. “Next, we go deal with our attackers.”
Richard scanned the room, pulled a muffin from his bag, and nodded. He took a bite. “Let’s go,” he said with a mouth full of muffin and waved her out the door.
Chapter 22
Strategies
Elise walked into her headquarters with Richard as he finished up his coffee and dusted his hands of crumbs. She walked over to the faux wood desk and cleared away a clutter of reports, filing them in an in-basket just as Carter Wright chimed her entrance. She pressed the panel open and stepped past Richard to greet the new arrivals.
Carter advanced with a smile. “So good to see you’re unhurt.” He glanced at Richard but addressed his comments to Elise. “Unless you have something specific, I’ll hook up my team with Jimbo, and we’ll get working.”
A hug was in order, so she gave him one. “I have some interrogations to complete, and after you’re finished with Jimbo, maybe we can sit down and talk. I want to catch up on the Homestead’s progress.”
He pulled away reluctantly, giving her a wan smile, and glaring over her shoulder at Trace who was now entering with his entourage. “That would be nice. See you then; take care,” he murmured. He patted her on the arm and left.
With a concerned glance at Carter’s departing back, she turned to Trace and caught a raised eyebrow directed at Richard.
Striding toward Trace, she extended her hand for a shake. Her move flustered the man who stared, startled by her proffered hand.
“She’s not contagious, Trace,” Richard drawled.
“Uh, right.” Trace stuck out his hand to shake.
Elise noted that the Alysian’s fingers were strong and well-manicured. Idly, she thought they looked capable of either caressing a cheek or strangling a neck. His grip was gentle, but powerful.
She stepped back. “Welcome to the Terran Station, Director Walker.” She studied his face, thinking he looked young for a person in his position, but then realized she was even younger and, in addition, commanded a fleet. Also, Richard had told her that Trace’s father was President of the Democratic Union; so, was it nepotism or a case of competence that let him hold so important a position?
“Thank you, Commander Fujeint.” He bowed.
The man had manners, it seemed.
Looking around, she noticed a group of young men standing stiffly nearby. They must have come up in the shuttle with Carter and the Director. They were young, muscled, and quite handsome. She questioned what possible function they might serve other than creating a commotion among the single women on station.
As if he could read her thoughts, Trace glanced at them and said, “We selected the strongest, most able-bodied men we could assemble on such short notice. This station needs to be stabilized as quickly as possible.” He grinned. “And they willingly volunteered to help.”
She narrowed her eyes, examining the men closer. “Let’s hope that’s the result. Do they carry any telekinesis talent? Or other special abilities that I need to be aware of?”
He possessed the grace to blush and glance over at Richard, who also looked a bit uncomfortable.
At that moment, Deuce entered, arguing with a guard. “I’m on the list, you idiot. How could you miss that name?”
“Sorry, I’m late,” he addressed Trace. “After greeting you in the shuttlebay, I transported the luggage to your units. Did I miss anything here?”
Trace shook his head. “Not really. Elise just asked what Talents my team brings to the table.”
“Oh.” Deuce rubbed his forehead. “I’m telekinetic… But she knows that. It’s a bit of a curse right now with all the stuff that needs to be shifted around.”
“Any telepathy?” Elise directed a look at Trace.
Trace frowned. “No. That would be an invasion of your privacy.”
She snorted, saying. “And that little task has already been filled by the bug in my office.”
“Bug?” Trace appeared perplexed.
Richard offered, “Electronic listening device.”
“Oh.” Trace tried for a neutral expression, but the quick glance at Deuce let her know who had put it there. That let her know she needed to keep an eye on the ever-so-helpful Deuce.
Deuce frowned in response, his cover blown.
But it wasn’t a surprise. She’d suspected it long ago.
Elise found the startled expression on Richard’s face gratifying. At least, he wasn’t guilty of eavesdropping. Nonetheless, a number of transgressions already filled her ever-expanding list of his sins.
Straightening up, Trace asked, “When can we interrogate the tower operators?”
“Do you need to clean up, get something to eat, or rest first?” she asked.
With a shake of his head, Trace said, “No, I’m good, but these guys can go with Deuce and start helping.” He waved a hand for the men to go.
“Maybe their first task should be to remove the electronic listening device in my office, and any others you may have scattered about.” She placed her hands on her hips and glared at Trace.
Trace turned to Deuce. “You heard the commander. Go and remove all of them. If you need help, take my men.”
Deuce clenched a fist and a muscle jumped in his jaw, but he only replied, “Yes, sir.”
Minutes later, Elise, Richard, and Trace were passing through a guarded door to lockup. Inside, Angel stood talking to an enthralled Mika. The two formed an interesting contrast: dark-skinned Mika with her black hair cropped like a helmet and Angel with alabaster skin and a nimbus of curly blond hair. Even so, both wore dark clothes—Mika in tight, black leather pants and jacket and Angel in a gray silk shirt and matte black pants.
As Elise entered, they swiveled around in unison. Arriving behind them, Jacob joined the meeting, fastening his own brown, imitation leather jacket and running a hand through dark, brown locks.
“Trace!” Angel grinned. “I heard a rumor you might show.”
“It’s true. What did you find out from our saboteurs?”
Angel laughed. “Well at first, they tried to lie.”
Trace nodded. “Apparently, they didn’t know who they were talking to.”
The exchange confused Elise. Richard had mentioned something about Angel’s ability to recognize the truth, but she wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. She raised an eyebrow at Jacob, hoping he would provide an explanation.
Jacob nodded at Mika and Angel. “Why don’t we find somewhere more comfortable and private before we continue our discussion? Follow me.” He guided them into a soundproof unit with padded tan chairs and a white table. The walls were a creamy beige with the only decoration being a single artificial rose in a vase at the center of the table. “We can speak freely here,” he assured them. “This room is shielded.”
She handed her extra to–go meal to Richard and chuckled to herself when he eagerly grabbed it. “So how does Angel know they lied?” she asked.
Everyone secured a chair and sat. Look
s passed between Richard and Trace with Richard taking the lead. “His mother is Ariel Truthsayer.” Richard took a bite of soy cheese and a cracker. “Angel has inherited her ability to recognize when a person lies or tells the truth.” He put the boxed meal on the table and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
Trace settled in, adding, “Ariel can delve much deeper than Angel, but if we need more, I’ve brought a vial of truth serum from an I.N.Sys lab. Also, Liana would be willing to mind probe them if that’s not effective enough.”
“Mind probe?” Elise responded, appalled. Trace was calmly suggesting they tear into someone’s mind as if I.N.Sys did it every day.
Richard and Trace exchanged more glances and Trace cleared his throat.
Richard jumped in. “Ariel observes facial expressions and speech intonations to make assumptions about what the subject says.”
Elise moved telepathy to the top of her list of explanations. They thought her stupid, but she suspected that the Alysians hid almost as many secrets as the Terrans.
“Those drugs tear a man’s mind apart,” muttered Richard, pulling out another bite. “I never liked them.”
“Neither should be necessary,” Angel interrupted. He leaned forward. “Braithe Wilder, the one from the Diechwrathe, appears to be the group leader.”
“A good deal of the populace wants to regain Diechwrathe sovereignty,” Trace countered. “Their resistance to the Democratic Union governing them has been an age-old problem.”
“Braithe descends from a people who existed in that region before it became part of the Democratic Union,” Angel added. “They claim the Union took it from them.”
Trace’s eyes widened. “If they could use the Terrans to destabilize the Democratic Union, they might get back their independence, and then his people could reclaim their land. And now with the change in climate….”
Richard nodded. “Once worthless, the land has become extremely valuable. As to the other conspirators, the D’Ankanque would like to see civil unrest within the Democratic Union in order to undermine our current grip on world power. They want to wield more power than they currently hold, and they see chaos in the Union as a means. Our problem is we need names. And more concrete proof.”
Richard hummed, then said, “Islia has been devastated by the comet and is seeking land that would be more habitable. They might be desperate enough to partner with the Diechwrathe in trying to disrupt the Union.”
Elise tracked back and forth between the two men, not understanding the politics. It seemed several countries were unhappy with the Democratic Union’s dominance. A few had been damaged by the comet and sought new territories. When she thought about it, the Democratic Union had been the main country to sponsor the ships. Most of the people she interfaced with came from there. Maybe, other countries might feel left out. Cultivating other nations might provide the kind of leverage that would hasten the process of opening up the planet.
Trace interjected, “The whole idea of blowing up the space station came after two shuttles landed on Alysia.”
“What?” Elise felt her heart pound. “I did not sanction any landings.”
Jacob said hesitantly, “I heard rumors that some ships were unhappy with the pace of the integration program.”
Angered by the accusations, Elise said, “I heard those rumors too, so I called for a referendum—and got a majority vote of confidence.”
“The attackers acted outside of fleet council, then,” Richard suggested.
“Absolutely!” She considered stomping out and getting James on the comm right then, but twenty more minutes wouldn’t make any difference at this point. Still, she was furious. “I want to know what ships landed without my authorization.”
“Braithe works in the Operations Center. He might know.” Angel shrugged. “When shuttles started dropping out of the sky, the Alysians panicked. Whoever set this up thought that if they could destroy the shuttles in the station and cripple the station, Terrans wouldn’t be able to land on Alysia, and that would stop any further invasion.”
Trace nodded. “They also must have hoped that would cause the fleet to leave.”
She barely managed to stifle her anger. “Idiots,” she sputtered.
“Just scared folks.”
Finding her voice, she said, “I want to talk to this Braithe person now.”
“These are Alysians. Let me interrogate them,” said Trace. “You and Richard watch from the other side of the one-way window. I’ll give Richard a transmitter so you can offer suggestions if you feel they’re needed. Angel will sit in and signal whether he tells the truth or not. A nod is truth, and a shake of his head means Braithe is telling a lie.”
Inside, a heavyset, bald Alysian wearing a scowl stood next to a sturdy, plastic table. He turned as Trace entered, thick dark eyebrows lowering at the Director’s appearance.
“Please sit,” Trace said as he heaved a thick file folder onto the table. Across the top was written “Braithe Wilder,” and inside a picture of the defendant was taped on the first page. Trace pulled out a chair and seated himself. Then he placed a recorder on the table and punched a button, saying, “Trace Walker, Director of I.N.Sys recording interrogation of Braithe Wilder concerning the bombing of the Terran Station.” He pointed at the chair for Braithe Wilder to sit.
The Alysian rubbed a short black beard and abruptly sat. His expression froze at the sight of Angel entering the room. His gaze followed the Enjelise as Angel found a chair. “What’s he doing here again?”
Trace ignored the comment.
Not happy to be outside the interrogation room, Elise recognized that Trace was Alysian and more familiar with the politics. With some reluctance, she positioned herself next to Richard behind the one-way glass. Because he was Terran security, she ordered Jacob to observe along with them.
She watched as Braithe nervously eyed the folder and the recorder while Trace casually flipped through a thick stack of papers. The prisoner glanced toward the door and back to the folder, then adjusted the position of his chair.
Studying Trace, Elise commented, “You certainly have a complete dossier on him. What’s in the file?”
Richard cocked his head from side to side, “Mostly blank papers or old bulletins.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“The folder is for show. Let the man think we know a lot about him, and he’ll be less inclined to withhold information.”
“And that works?” Her attention turned back to Braithe who had a beading of sweat breaking out on his forehead and was unconsciously rubbing his hand on a pant leg.
Maybe it did work.
Closing the file and patting it, Trace began, “Well, there’s no doubt that you planned to bomb the station. Three witnesses saw you in the Operations Center with the weapon, attempting to leave the station before it blew up. You knew the countdown.” He shook his head. “Killed an awful lot of people. Pretty shut and closed case, I’d say.”
Braithe pressed his lips together. He clenched a fist and leaned forward. “Terrans, you mean. They’re not people. They’re invaders. I doubt they’re even human.”
“They might contest that fact. Nevertheless, no matter what you call them, they’re living, sentient beings, and you killed a large number of them.”
Braithe sat back. “You want them crawling all over Alysia? Taking what’s yours? You let them in, and they could take over the whole planet. Besides, the damage was done by the shuttle, and I didn’t pilot the shuttle that crashed into the station.” He leaned forward, eyes glaring. “Maybe it just malfunctioned.”
Trace pursed his lips. “The shuttle came up from Alysia. What if I told you shuttlebay says it was deliberate? There’s no claim of a malfunction on the recorder.”
“It was a Diechwrathe substitute pilot. Put in at the last minute and not our usual pilot for that run. He probably screwed up and caused the crash.”
Trace rubbed his face and leaned forward. “About that… what if we knew who organized th
is? Not all Diechwrathe, heh? The D’Ankanque and Islia want to stir things up, and we’ve been following certain dissidents for a while now. We’ve got names.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Braithe studied the Director then glanced at Angel. Finally, he stared at the folder. “You may have names, but I’m not saying any more. I’ve said too much already.”
“Oh, but the names tie directly to you. What if I told you there are pictures out there that show you meeting with certain well-known leaders of the Diechwrathe… with dates and times of these meetings? After all, you used to own a large section of the land now occupied by the Terrans. If you could get someone with clout to help remove them and cause a rebellion, you might get your land back.”
Braithe glanced away, murmuring, “Tracking those meetings would be impossible.”
“You don’t know the technology we have available.”
Braithe’s face closed down. “I didn’t meet with anyone.”
Trace glanced at Angel, who briefly shook his head.
“Why’s he shaking his head? I said I didn’t meet anyone. Is he calling me a liar?” Braithe grew red in the face.
“Didn’t you meet several times with Jack Leland and a tribe of the Cadwell clan?” Trace opened the folder and ran a finger down a page.
Braithe shifted uneasily. “No! I have no connections with known dissidents.”
But a quick glance at Angel revealed a short shake of his head.
“Let the record show the defendant is lying.”
“What?”
On the other side of the glass, Richard caught Angel’s signal and said, “Should have known that group was involved.” He faced Elise. “They’ve been trying to reclaim the Diechwrathe for years. Regular thorn in our side. There’s an Islian connection too. I’d like a name there.”
Elise touched her hand to the glass window. “I just want to know what ships are involved.”
Richard pulled her hand away. “We need to know the whole operation, or they’ll only try again with another ship.”
“We haven’t confirmed that a ship was involved,” she huffed but turned back to watch through the glass.
Somewhat Alien: The Station (Terran Trilogy Book 2) Page 16
