by Lisa Eskra
The guard swung back the airtight door and gestured Magnius inside. "The bathroom's down the corridor on the left. Mess hall's further down. Help yourself and get some sleep. We don't reach Chara for another thirty hours. Take it easy."
After the door closed, Magnius refused to budge. He'd slept in worse places before but not many. At least the area was dark enough for him to fall asleep in. An odd cocktail of odors consumed him—hot lubricant, stale hashish, and the fish he'd loaded on board. A series of faint clicks reverberated throughout the hold with mechanical regularity. The coldness of the room penetrated his clothing with ease so he buttoned up his jacket to retain heat.
Two armored hovercars took up the majority of the cargo bay. Their navy coloration indicated they belonged to the Chara government, not the military. The Q3 Summit on Kashtivone had been in the news for the past several days, and by all indications the meeting between the PAU and UE had been a success. He rested his hand on the hood of a transport, honored to share a ride with the political diplomats. Perhaps humanity would finally be united this time.
He spotted some cots staggered along the port bulkhead between sections of engine coils and conduits. The blanket on the second cot hung over the side onto the floor. As he made his way over to them, he heard a light humming sound. An older gentleman propped himself against a crate, reading a comtab aloud in a mumbling tone of voice.
The man struck him with an odd sense of acquaintance, but he could not place where he'd seen him before. He didn't look old enough to have been a client, nor did he seem familiar enough to be a politician. His dirty coat hung off his shoulders like a cloak, and the soles of his untied boots had been worn through to the leather beneath. The way he restlessly swung his foot and drummed the comtab made Magnius think he had a compulsive motion disorder.
Since he was not in the mood for conversation, he headed toward the nearest cot. The only thing in Astra he wanted right now was sleep, and yet sharing this place with a person he'd never met made that wish elusive. The thirty hours to Chara could not pass by quick enough; then he'd confront a host of new problems.
When the man stopped reading and watched him, Magnius tried to ignore him. The hunch of his gaunt frame intensified the severity of his stone-cold eyes. He resembled a man who'd seen the halls of hell and lived to tell the tale. Magnius hadn't been unsettled by someone's façade for many years, and he wondered if this person before him was more man or ghoul.
"Bollocks…it's bad enough to be sent to the grotty, but now I have to share it with this lout," the man said. Judging by the level of his voice, he intended the comment to be heard. "You'll have to excuse me if I'm not in a jolly mood. I did have a room until we landed on Fantasti. Now I'm here, for all the good that does me."
Magnius took off his satchel and set it on the cot next to him. "I came aboard on Fantasti."
"Obviously not you, idiot. Otherwise we'd be sharing it and that bint would be in here."
Who the hell is this self-righteous jerk, he thought.
The man nodded toward the hoverbike in the corner. "What kind of tosser rides one of those lethal contraptions? A chav, that's who. They should be sterilized so they can't pollute the gene pool with their stupidity."
Having lived in the UE for twenty-one years, Magnius was familiar with the vernacular. "You're entitled to your opinion. You sound like one of those guys who always wanted to ride one, but it was too much for you to handle. Jaded much?"
"Then you'd be wrong. I've never wanted to join the legions of you who ride them around to make up for having a small tonker."
"At least I'm not the kind of weird you can't fix."
"You seem to have mistaken me for someone who cares."
The words slapped Magnius across the face, but he heard pain hidden behind them. Years ago, they could've danced a verbal tango for hours, and he'd have uncovered the truth in the end. But his cross-examination skills rusted from neglect. "Owning a hoverbike is a personal choice and none of your business. All the whiners need to shut up and find a real hobby."
"More riders die in accidents every year than are sold anymore. Coincidentally, the IQ of humanity is steadily increasing. Quite apropos, wouldn't you say?"
He hadn't heard that term used in conversational speech since he stood in the courtroom. "Not fitting in the slightest. Not even ironic."
"I could whack you over the head a few times with a hammer if you'd like. With the odds being what they are, you'll be dead in a few years anyhow."
Magnius crossed his arms. "You go right ahead if you think you can."
The man ignored his act of defiance and went back to his reading. Like before, he read the words aloud to himself as he poured over it, complete with his own commentary on the shoddy state of AC politics. He chuntered just loud enough to grate on Magnius' nerves and drive him mad.
After several minutes of hearing how much of a wanker Chairman Dodd was, he sighed audibly enough for the man to hear it. "I've had a long day. All I want to do is get some sleep. Do you think you could quiet down for a while?"
A brief pause followed, after which the man continued like Magnius said nothing. He buried his head under his blanket and pulled the comtab out of his satchel. A handful of books had been stored in its memory, but he connected to the ship-wide network and downloaded the latest news stories. He didn't read more than a few words before the man's voice distracted him.
To avoid a confrontation he grabbed his satchel and strode out of the cargo hold. He had nowhere to go, save the mess hall, so he headed there and sunk into a seat in the far corner. He didn't want to deal with anyone. Being invisible would be a blessing right now.
It took some time to unwind from his adrenaline-induced irritation, but other pressing concerns replaced his frustration. He tried to put the chaos that surrounded him the past several days out of his mind. But it wasn't easy. He worried about his business, hopeful that his secretary could manage things until he got back. And then it hit him: he never could. The hulking image of Tiyuri and the words he'd spoken played over in his mind as clear as the moment they happened. Sooner or later, they'd meet again.
He wished he hadn't been so careless using his powers of late. There had been a time when he rarely used them at all, but with the pressure and stress of expansion, there wasn't a more efficient means getting things done. He could have workers fiddle over crates with the magnetolifts all day, or he could do it himself in less than an hour. He didn't do it often enough to arouse suspicion, but someone besides Lyneea must've seen him. That had to be how word found its way back to Aliane.
From his corner of the mess hall, he gazed out at the rest of the room behind his amber glasses. The VIPs dined in the wardroom, and Rashad had chosen not to grant him the same privileges. A dozen or so other people communed over dinner—enlisted crewmen who'd been late getting off shift and wanted to grab a quick bite to eat before bed. No one appeared to notice him.
He dropped his head into his hand and closed his eyes, furrowing his brow a bit from the dull headache scattering his thoughts. He hated starships and spaceflight. For some reason, he'd always been plagued by headaches during space travel and doubted he'd ever understand why. For the most part he avoided traveling the stars. Of course, having his head bruised up from his encounter with Tiyuri didn't help matters either.
He picked up his comtab and scanned through the news stories of the day, keeping a safe distance from Viva Vega's gossip. An accident at the mining facility on Avaritia halted platinum production. Gang violence on Pisa had increased dramatically over the past two weeks following the assassination of two prominent members of the planet's main factions. Citizens of DeSoto, the only planet in Astra with a direct democracy, legalized stims with a fifty-nine percent majority. Federalists and progressives in the Allied Council continued to butt heads over the embargo against the PAU with neither side showing signs of compromise.
Politics these days…what a mess. When he was a boy, he dreamt that he was elected Preside
nt—a fantasy so extraordinarily vivid he could recall it to this day. As alluring as the notion seemed, the responsibility of such a position was not worth the effort to achieve it. Elections were little more than glorified popularity contests where the good of humanity came in last. Perhaps therein laid the problem with politics: the power-hungry led them while the system disenchanted anyone who wanted to make Astra better.
While reading, an intense migraine suddenly overwhelmed him like he'd been electrocuted. With his mind reeling from the mental shock, he stole a glance toward the door. The annoying man from the cargo hold and a woman with blond hair entered and headed toward the ration dispenser for their meal. The woman emitted an opalescent aura of energy and left a trail of radiance in her wake. The current surrounding her dissipated, and a moment later, the effect subsided.
For an instant he wondered if she was a psion, but he'd never encountered such an ability before. Nor was the sensation consistent with a telepathic assault. It felt more like a spark had been struck in a room full of charged particles, setting his mind ablaze as a result. The pain at the onset had vanished at the same rate it hit him; only a flashbulb memory remained in his mind.
After retrieving their rations, the two headed over to a table in the center of the room. She claimed a seat in his direct line of sight. Magnius tried to detect any subliminal signs that would mark her a psion, but there was no apparent difference between her and any of the other humans in the room. If anything, she struck him as being a bit more childlike than the rest of them. The way the window captured her attention, he wondered if she'd ever been in space before. In contrast to her companion, she exuded a calm sense of awe.
With the exception of her bold hair, she looked quite ordinary. And yet he didn't want to take his eyes off her. He rubbed his brow to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. It was too soon to start lusting after someone new. But here she was, dredging up a teeming well of emotions without speaking a single word.
Astra, I'm not even divorced yet, he thought. I've never been that guy who stares across a room wanting a woman I can't have. Out of the million places to meet someone, why here…
But he couldn't stop staring. He continued to watch her from across the room as she ate and talked to her companion. After some time, her gaze met his. He forced a weak smile before returning his attention to the comtab in front of him just long enough for her to look away. His eyes felt glued to her, out of both curiosity and fascination. A minute later, her eyes once again met his and again, he cast them down to the news.
From his periphery he noticed her stand and walk toward him. The anticipation jerked his heart into a frenzy, one intensifying at her every step. After his brush with death, the secret thrill bore him no shame. Fighting it contradicted his natural impulses. What were the chances anything would come out of it anyways?
The tall woman stooped over his table, and with his nose buried in his comtab, he could see her racehorse legs. Her figure-hugging clothing sexualized her body. "Do you know me?" she asked.
He inhaled sharply. "No, I don't think so."
She sat down next to him. "Then why are you staring at me?"
Against his better judgment, he glanced at her. There was something curious about her that he couldn't put his finger on. She looked maybe in her thirties. A fresh face enhanced her high cheekbones and a strong jaw line. Her bluish-gray eyes appeared marbled by light, concentric rings. Up close, her flaxen hair resembled gossamer silk, cut in a flattering modern style. Caught in a room full of people, she'd stand out on that basis alone.
"The hair is a bit pretentious, don't you think?"
She seemed perplexed by his observation. "How so?"
Magnius refused to believe anyone would be so ignorant or sheltered to not know that having blond hair was extremely rare. Over the course of a hundred years, he himself had not encountered many blonds, and most of them had been rather conceited about that fact. "Are you one of the VIPs?"
"No. I'm with Dr. Xander Adams. I'm his assistant."
That had been the reason he recognized the bitter man…the fraud. He cast a long glance across the hall at the scientist's back. "That asshole? I had no idea—I'm sorry. There must be a hundred other things a woman like you could be doing than chasing that maniac across Astra to create the perfect android."
"Why would you feel sorry for me? You don't even know me." Her tone possessed a strange sense of detachment.
He got lost in the marvel of her eyes and found himself tongue-tied. "You're right, but it would be wrong for me not to want to."
Her gaze drifted onto the table, and a pensive frown enveloped her facial features. Something had happened to her; he could see it in her eyes. She sat hunched over as though she wore an invisible mantle of lead. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I lost my memory. I'm lucky to have found Xander at all. That was why I came over here and asked you. I thought maybe…"
He stuck out his hand to her. "I'm Magnius Zoleki."
She stared at it for a moment before shaking it. "Amii. Martin." When she touched his hand, an icy chill consumed him, and he had the overwhelming desire to warm her in his arms.
"Where did you come on board?"
"Pisa."
He'd never been to Pisa, but stories of the place ran wild the same way their drugs did. She looked too fragile to last a minute in that cesspool of humanity on her own. "Has the captain given you as hard of a time as he's given me?"
"Commander Mundammi? I think he's been quite reasonable and accommodating given the situation. Has he mistreated you?"
He shook his head. "I guess not. I just figured he'd be more compassionate to someone being chased by a psionic assassin."
Her eyes widened. "Someone's trying to kill you?"
"Well, he wasn't going to. He came to take me to see someone, and I know that always ends badly. So I ran. I feel lucky I found this ship, actually. Would he have killed me? Maybe. I mean, it's what he does after all." Carrying on about it spun up his anxiety tenfold.
"What are you going to do?"
"I really don't know yet."
"That makes three of us."
In a way Magnius felt relieved to not be alone. "I meant what I said about Xander. He's a psycho. I'm stuck in the damned hold with him until we reach Chara. Any chance the two of you can swap accommodations? Because I'd much rather spend the next thirty hours with you."
She tilted her head in a coy gesture. "Why? I would only break your heart."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"Why would you let me?"
He bit his lip when she put her hand on his thigh. She wasn't the only one who sought an answer to that question. Her innocent stare made him wonder if she was oblivious to her own advances, and he couldn't discount the possibility she might be a psion. "I could be dead tomorrow or next week if that assassin has his way. You can't blame a guy for trying."
Amii twisted her lips and stared at him curiously. After a moment, she stood to leave. "You are a strange person, Magnius Zoleki."
"That makes three of us. I'm sorry I didn't know you. I hope you sort everything out someday."
She lingered there a few moments longer before her eyes fell upon a ring he wore on his right middle finger. Entranced by it, she sat back down. "Hemingway School of Law, class of 2225?"
Most people had no idea it was a class ring, let alone how to decipher the colored gemstones on the side. "It was my father's." He lied without even realizing it. "How did you…how…"
But it was plain to see that she didn't know. It might've been something as simple as reading about it—one of those silly facts that stick with someone their whole life. "Maybe I'll remember one day. Good night." She offered him an endearing smile before heading back to her table.
Magnius still knew nothing about her, yet she continued to intrigue him, lingering in his thoughts long after she and Xander left the mess hall. Amii hadn't cast another glance in his direction. He doubted he'd see her again, which
was more of a pity than a relief.
He'd always considered the notion of love at first sight one of the greatest myths of the universe, conceived of only to woo couples into quick and repeated procreation. Humans might be smart, but nature would forever be smarter. He couldn't lie to himself and say he'd never been consumed by lust, but this time, something was different. The strange visual effect, his physical response to her, the idiotic words that fell off his lips…
Who in Astra was that girl?
***
For many psions, getting around Astra could be a daunting predicament. Psions had driven most worlds into a state of intense xenophobia. Locals shunned civilians who traveled the stars like interstellar pariahs, assuming they were psions until proven otherwise. And even then, trust was hard to come by, especially when faced with the notion of sharing a ship with a potential murderer for days.
Aliane never had that problem. She traversed Astra in the same small ship she'd owned for a hundred odd years. Its engines were old and on the slow side but they always got her where she needed to go. The most advanced technology would've gotten her from Superbia to the Vega system in less than a day. Instead, it took her two days and she enjoyed her time alone, away from the perpetual madness of leading the colony.
She'd heard of the Seer on Rêve from a variety of different sources. Every April, a collection of prophecies sprung up from an anonymous Seer regarding the coming year's events like a modern-day Nostradamus. No one in Astra had any idea where they came from or who this eloquent Seer was. Some prophecies were spot-on; while others didn't happen quite as predicted, an element of truth could be gleaned from the words in hindsight. Powerful Seers were rare because they disappeared into human society much better than telepaths did. Aliane spent the last decade searching for the Seer, and thanks to Kimber she'd located her.
