Luckily, the false identities Jackson had provided for them also came with healthy credit lines attached, so it was no problem to go into the first likely clothing store they saw, have their measurements taken, and walk out less than half a standard hour later outfitted in custom-made suits and footwear. A few doors down was a salon, although Rast balked at that.
“No off-worlder is putting a hand to these,” he growled, and reached behind him to curl protective fingers around the dreadlocked fall of hair down his back.
“Have it your way,” Lira said, knowing this was an argument she’d never win. “I suppose no one’s going to think too much of your hair — it’s what they expect of a Stacian. But I’m a mess, so give me another half-hour, all right?”
“If you must. But I think you look just fine.”
She wished then she could stand on her toes and kiss him on the cheek, but a public display of affection like that between a Gaian and a Stacian would raise eyebrows, even here on Eridani. So she just flashed a grin at him and went inside the salon, where she was buffed and polished to perfection, and came out within that standard half-hour feeling like an entirely different woman.
Apparently Rast thought the same, because he stared at her as she approached as if he wasn’t completely sure he recognized her.
“Well?” she asked, once it became clear that he didn’t intend to say anything. “How do I look?”
He studied her for a few more seconds, then said, “Intimidatingly beautiful.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I think so.”
And because they were standing on a busy street, and not alone, she had to content herself with reaching out and giving his nearest hand a quick squeeze. Her fingers did look strange to her, massaged and manicured, her fingernails painted a dark sapphire color to match the suit she wore, but she assumed she’d get used to them eventually.
Because she doubted a MonAg exec like Adriana Ayers would deign to use public transport, she used her handheld to summon them a cab. It slid up to the curb only a minute or so later, driven by a mech. On any other world this would have been extravagant — mechs were far more expensive than biological labor — but the Eridanis excelled at mech building. It was one area where Gaia lagged behind, although the Consortium’s scientists and techs were doing what they could to close the gap.
They climbed in, and the cab sped away, the coordinates of their destination already programmed in because of the order she’d submitted to the cab company. Typical Eridani efficiency — everything sleek and seamless, designed to provide as pleasant an experience as possible. Eridanis as a rule did not enjoy conflict and did what they could to avoid it whenever possible.
In fact, Lira had had a friend at the Academy who was half Eridani, and who once commented that her parents had divorced many years earlier. When Lira asked, somewhat diffidently, if it was because they’d argued — she’d thought perhaps their differing backgrounds had become too large an obstacle to overcome — Elith stared at her, laughed, and then replied, “No, it was because my dad would never argue. It drove Mom nuts.”
Recalling this story, Lira wondered why the Eridanis, who as a rule avoided confrontations, had stuck their fingers into something like the plot involving her and Rast, and by extension Gared Tomas and Admiral sen Trannick. Surely mining rights weren’t a big enough incentive for getting their hands so dirty?
Beside her, Rast stirred, then said, “You’re very quiet. Contemplating your cover story?”
“I should be, but I’m not,” she admitted, and shifted in her seat so she could more or less face him. Even though he’d declined the salon services, she still thought he looked very handsome in his new suit of a dark umber color, his heavy hair pulled back from the fine bones of his face. “I suppose I was thinking of the bigger picture — of why the Eridanis would be involved at all.”
Rast made a warning noise deep in his throat then, and his gaze flickered to the mech driving the cab and back to her. She understood his concern; while there was no reason to think the driver was monitoring their conversation, she couldn’t be sure of that, either. So she nodded and fell silent, but reached over to him and took his hand in hers, glad of the strength she felt in his fingers. It was atavistic and backward and foolish, she supposed, taking comfort in the presence of the big capable male. Even so, she couldn’t help thinking somehow it seemed inconceivable that she should fail when she had him with her.
Even so, a little mental preparation wouldn’t hurt. She knew the credentials Hunter Chao had given her were impeccable, so she wasn’t too worried about that. Enough ores and their component elements were used in the preparation of agricultural compounds that it would seem plausible enough for her to have an appointment with Daos Senn, and to have with her the under-secretary for agricultural development on Syrinara. And, oh, how strange that the appointment was somehow not in the computer, but perhaps she could reschedule for a later time? At the very least they should be able to learn something of whether he was in Teliir or not, and use that intelligence to decide what their next step should be.
If they were lucky, during that time Jackson — more or less caught up on sleep, she hoped — might have dug up even more information for them, and they could use that with along whatever they learned at Senn’s place of business to determine if the trail stopped at him, or whether he was in fact an innocent party in all this. The possibility still existed of his identity having been suborned for a third party’s underhanded business, in which case this whole expedition might turn out to be a dead end.
And if it is? she thought. It’s not as if I have pressing business elsewhere…
Sadly, too true. But at least she was with Rast, and somehow everything else didn’t seem quite as bleak when she contemplated a possible future with him, rather than having to face an uncaring galaxy alone. He’d made it more than clear that she was his focus now, the object of his loyalty. She could not — would not — underestimate what a mental shift that was for him, what a sea change, in a man who had been raised to believe in his world first, his family second, and everything else a very distant third…if it existed at all.
The cab pulled to a stop in front of an airy confection of a building, all arched steel and many-paned glass, some of it in the blue and lavender and purple hues the Eridanis loved so much. Lira could not imagine a corporate headquarters back on Gaia — or indeed on any Consortium world — looking this fanciful, but the Eridanis had a very different way of doing business from the Gaians. And no need to worry about paying for their transportation here, as the amount due had been deducted directly from the false bank accounts Jackson had set up for her.
They got out of the cab and passed their fingers over the print scanner at the front door of the office building. Lira could feel herself tense as she did so, since this was the first true test of the false fingerprints Hunter Chao had given them, but the scanner only flashed a cool blue light, the doors opening inward.
She lifted her chin and stepped forward, Rast following closely behind. They stood in an immense foyer, probably twenty meters square. Directly opposite them was a pretty Eridani woman in a very chic silver-gray suit who sat behind a desk of inlaid wood. She smiled at them and said, “Welcome to Senn Enterprises. May I help you?”
Lira approached the desk, wearing what she hoped was a confident smile. “Hello. My name is Adriana Ayers, of MonAg, and this is Janth sen Lhannick, agricultural under-secretary from Syrinara. We have an appointment with Mr. Senn at oh three hundred.”
Another smile, and the Eridani woman turned her attention to the virtual keyboard built into her desktop, typing in their information before she checked it on the head’s-up display to her left. “Ah, very good, Ms. Ayers. Master Senn is expecting you.”
What the…? That couldn’t possibly be correct. He couldn’t be expecting them, because the appointment was entirely fictitious. Lira wished she could turn to look back at Rast, to see if he could give her any indication as to t
he best way to respond, but she knew that doing so would only reveal her confusion.
“Excellent,” she said, in what she hoped was an appropriately breezy manner.
“The lifts are that way,” the receptionist said, and pointed to a bank of doors made of some silvery metal and engraved with a swirling design that echoed the fanciful architecture of the building itself. “Floor fifty-two.”
“Thank you so much.” And Lira headed off in that direction, acutely conscious of the clicking of her heels on the polished stone floor, Rast a pace or two behind her.
She pressed her thumb on the pad between two of the doors, once again establishing her identity, letting the building’s security systems know that she had every right to be there. Although she was acutely aware of Rast’s presence beside her, she knew she didn’t dare say anything until they were both safely inside the elevator. Luckily, she was not forced to wait very long, as it came within the minute.
They both stepped inside, and she pressed the button for the fifty-second floor. It was only after the doors slid shut and the elevator began its ascent that she said, “Rast, what the hell is going on here?”
He shook his head, looking grim. “I have no idea.” Then he brightened a little and said, “Perhaps Jackson Wyler hacked into their computers and inserted the appointment.”
“That would make sense…except that Jackson doesn’t even know we’re here. I haven’t talked to him since yesterday.”
Rast’s expression of dismay might have been comical if the situation weren’t so serious. He appeared to ponder the problem for a few seconds, then seemed to relax slightly, saying, “I’m sure Hunter Chao sent him all the information about our new identities, though. Is it possible he’s been keeping an eye out for our activities, just in case he needed to intervene to help us out?”
That actually did make some sense. Lord knows Jackson could slip into practically any database in the galaxy. Probably he’d gotten an alert the second their thumbprint scans showed up at the Senn Enterprises headquarters. After that it would only be the work of a few seconds to insert the necessary data into the receptionist’s feed, to make it look as if that appointment had been there all along.
And if Daos Senn was occupied with another meeting when they arrived, well, then, it was the sort of mix-up that could easily happen. At least it seemed fairly clear that he was here in his office. A stroke of luck there, that was for sure. She’d just have to hope their luck held.
The elevator doors opened, revealing a short hallway that terminated in a set of double doors. Master Senn clearly occupied the penthouse, as above them Eridani’s indigo-tinged sun shone through panes of blue and violet and silver-gray duraglass, the pattern repeating itself in paler hues on the floor of polished white stone. Rast reached out and took her fingers, gave them a quick reassuring squeeze before they headed toward Senn’s suite.
Those double doors swung open as they approached, and Lira took in a quick breath, willing herself to stay calm. As in the reception area down in the lobby, a desk faced the entryway, and at that desk sat a well-dressed Eridani woman, although this one appeared to be a few years older than the receptionist in the lobby.
The main difference between her and the receptionist, however, was that this woman wasn’t smiling…and that she held a stun pistol pointed directly at them. “Good afternoon, Ms. Jannholm, Captain sen Drenthan. We’ve been expecting you.”
The pistol fired, and Lira’s world went black.
* * *
Even though he knew she wasn’t dead, that she’d only been hit with a stun bolt, still Rast lunged toward the woman behind the desk. He hadn’t made it two steps before several pairs of very strong hands wrapped themselves around his arms, pulling him back. The curses died on his lips as a new figure stepped in front of him, one he recognized at once, although the penthouse suite of an Eridani office building was probably the last place Rast had ever expected to see him.
Admiral sen Trannick.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rast snarled, pulling against the hands that restrained him — hands, he belatedly realized, which belonged to a pair of Stacian soldiers. That made sense, as he should have been able to bring a pair of Eridanis to their knees with just one yank of their arms.
“I might ask the same of you,” sen Trannick responded. His gaze flickered to Lira’s prone form, and his mouth twitched in distaste. “Come, let’s go discuss this like civilized beings.” He extended a hand, indicating another set of doors behind him.
“I have nothing to discuss with you.” Knowing he would have a difficult time freeing himself from the two soldiers who held him — they were even bigger than he was — Rast stood straight and unmoving in their grasp, showing his contempt for them by acting as if they were not even there.
“Oh, I think we have a great deal to discuss.”
“Lira — ”
“ — will be fine.” The admiral nodded, a signal to the woman behind the desk apparently, as she leaned over and spoke a few quick murmured words in the comm unit built into her desk. Almost at once a pair of Eridanis in simply cut civilian clothing hurried out from behind another door, then bent to pick Lira up and spirit her away back where they had come from.
The sight of her limp body dangling from their detestable lavender-skinned hands was too much for Rast, and he lunged forward again, breaking free from the men who held him, an inarticulate growl of rage coming from deep within his throat, deep within his soul. He would save her, no matter what it took.
A flare of violet light, and another, and he found himself falling, body betraying him as he crashed to the stone floor, hitting his head with a crack he heard rather than felt. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the form of the woman he loved disappearing behind a set of polished metal doors.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lira opened her eyes and tried to ignore the dull throbbing in her head. Despite her military background, this was the first time she’d ever been hit by a stun bolt — and she sincerely hoped it would be the last. In addition to the headache, her muscles twinged in places they’d never hurt before, probably because of the way she’d fallen to the floor after being stunned.
As she slowly focused on the world around her, she realized she was sitting upright in a chair, and that her hands and feet were bound. She did note that at least the chair was padded, and that her feet rested on a floor covered with an expensive-looking carpet in shades of deep blue and steel gray.
“Back among the living?” came an unfamiliar voice from somewhere behind her, and Lira turned her head to the right, trying to trace the source of the question.
He circled her then, coming to a stop a few paces away from the chair where she was bound. Since the room was not well lit, it took Lira a second or two to focus on him, to see that she looked at an Eridani male of approximately forty standard, although since Eridanis didn’t age precisely the same way humans did, he could have been some years older than that.
She didn’t bother to answer his question, instead saying, “Paragraph six, section twelve, of the Eridani Accord states that it is unlawful to hold or confine a sentient being without due cause. Since I have been accused of no crime, I must request that you release me immediately.”
Her words only seemed to amuse him, because he let out a bark of a laugh, then shook his head. “I’ll have to ask you not to quote my own world’s laws back at me, Ms. Jannholm. Not all of us agreed with the Accord at the time it was signed, and so I think I’ll ignore it for now.”
That did confuse her somewhat, as she’d always been taught that the Eridani people had wholeheartedly supported the Accord, since it set up standards for behavior among the galaxy’s sentient beings that were still followed decades later. But she didn’t want this stranger to see her uncertainty, or her fear. “Even so, as I’ve done nothing wrong, or illegal, the best thing for you to do would be to let me go before you face possible repercussions from my government.”
“Your government, Ms. Jannholm, doesn’t seem to give a damn about you, or it wouldn’t have cut you loose quite so quickly.”
A retort rose to her lips, but she choked it back, knowing there was some truth in his words. Truly, if the GDF had valued her at all as an officer, wouldn’t it have at least given her the chance to defend herself? She stared down at her hands, held together with a set of professional cuffs — but the humane kind, of untearable fabric that would keep her wrists bound but not chafe or bruise them. How very Eridani of her captor.
“Ah,” he said then, as if pleased that he’d managed to land a blow. “No, I think there aren’t many people who give a damn as to where you are or what you’re doing — not even that thick-headed Stacian in the other room.”
Her heart rose into her throat at those words, a flash of dismay, followed by denial. The Eridani could only be referring to Rast. It did sound as if he was at least still alive. As for the insult in the stranger’s words, well, she would ignore that. He was obviously only attempting to upset her in any way he knew how, to say whatever he could to increase her feelings of isolation, of abandonment.
If Rast was alive, she had the feeling he’d move heaven and earth to get to her. All she needed to do was keep her cool, and she had no doubt Rast would think of a way to get her out of this place.
Still she said nothing, knowing that it was best to stay silent, to not give this Eridani — Daos Senn? — any more ammunition than she already had. Obviously righteous indignation hadn’t worked at all, so she would just hold her tongue and hope that Rast could get to her sooner rather than later.
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