Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1)

by J. D. Hale

  Salah stood up, his healed wounds now giving him a jolt of adrenaline. When your body speeds up healing processes, the after affects are heightened senses and altered hormone levels. That means I could’ve just set up for Rowan to lose his fight.

  Rowan struck out first, thumping his opponent in the chest with more force than imaginable. Salah returned with a slam to Rowan’s neck and then and elbow to the shoulder. My brother slammed his fist into Salah’s side, right over his appendix. Salah then unleashed an onslaught of slams on Row’s collarbone, slowly pushing him to the ground. Rowan’s legs bent under the continuous pressure, and soon he was on his knees. When Salah stopped smacking his collarbone, he began brutishly smacking Rowan in the stomach with his knees. Rowan saw the obvious opening and grabbed Salah by his ankles and flipped him down, where he smacked against the turf. But then, when it seemed that Salah would lose, he used the flat of his left hand to smack my brother in the head.

  Rowan went out cold.

  “I win.” Salah said turning to me. I waited for my brother to wake up, but figured it could take a while, so as Salah walked towards me, I began.

  “So, what exactly did you guys bet?” I asked suspiciously. I figured that I was safe to talk about this while my brother was passed out.

  “He said I could take you on a date if I won.” He smiled charmingly.

  “I know. And I have a confession: I’m not mad that you won.” I told him, and the smile on his face broadened.

  “So-”

  “Wait. I like you. A lot. But the thing is…I can’t…be with you.” I told him in a rare attempt at being nice.

  “Why not?” He seemed stunned.

  “Most importantly, I’m ruthless. If I allow myself to get attached to you, I’ll have a weak spot. I know that if, for example, Dmitri Ivanov said that to kill him, I’d have to kill you, and even now I know I would never be able to do it, though it’s been one of my main goals since I was ten to destroy him. If I killed you, I’d never forgive myself. For another reason, I live on another planet, and this is the first time you’ve been off of Earth. My brother hates you, and he’s the person I trust most in the world. I trust his judgment. And I killed your father. I don’t understand how you can even look at me without wanting to destroy me.” I told him, “So-”

  “No. You listen to me. If Dmitri Ivanov attacked me, I would kill him. I don’t care if you live on another planet. I’m an orphan, so I can live wherever I want. I’ll make your brother like me if that’s what it takes. Finally, my father was a horrible person and I was already plotting to get someone to kill him and then you did. It was a dream come true. He was never a real father to me and never a husband to my mother. My mother died when I was six, and since then I’ve pretty much been raising myself. And,” He continued, “I’m not giving up on you until you fall for me.”

  “Well, if you can sway me, you win. But if you can’t, you’ll have to deal with us just being…accomplices.” I told him, knowing this was a battle I would win.

  “Fine. So you’ll go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” He asked suddenly.

  “I guess so, if you can figure out somewhere to go, because I’m not going to tell you that my favorite restaurant is Aliquam in the capital on a road called Viridis. Have fun.” I lied, not wanting him to know my real favorite restaurant. “And don’t tell Rowan. I’ll tell him some lie so he won't gut you like a fish.” I smiled.

  Then I looked at Rowan. I opened his left eyelid, and when his eye didn’t dilate, I knew he was out for a while.

  “Help me carry Rowan in the house. If he’s out here, someone’s going to arrest him. I’ll take his arms.” I commanded.

  Salah walked over and grabbed up Rowan’s legs haphazardly.

  “Careful.” I snubbed at him, “I’ll kill you if you hurt him.”

  It took us about ten minutes to get him inside and onto a couch. It was easy for me, but Salah was panting. Rowan’s got a lot more muscles than I do, so he weighs about forty pounds more. Of course, I’m not weak, as I can bench three-fifty for twenty minutes with no water without breaking a sweat. But, Rowan can lift twice that, and Salah probably can’t bench over a hundred. Saizian muscles are much stronger than human muscles by nature, and since we’ve been training since we were four, my genetic makeup triples in affect. Strange, as I appear thinner than the average one-hundred and ten pound human, and weigh thirty pounds more.

  “You really care about him, don’t you?” Salah asked quietly.

  “Rowan? Of course.” I replied.

  “Why? You threaten to kill everyone and you fight him, but you still really love him. Even with Elaina, you didn’t really…care about her like you do with Rowan. Why?” His perplexing attitude towards my relationship with my brother was almost funny to me.

  “Rowan’s the only one of my siblings that I really grew up with. My parents split when I was six, and then my mom turned to how she is now. Rowan’s the only one that’s stuck by me through all the storms of my life. He’s my best friend, my only friend, really. You don’t have any siblings, do you?” I implored, actually wanting to know. As I have just recently realized, Salah and I don’t know much about each other.

  “No, I don’t. Well, I mean, I did. My sister, Lalasa, got the same disease as my mother and died with her.” He told me shortly.

  “Lalasa and Salah? Lalasa is Persian and Salah is Hebrew.” I said, using my extensive knowledge to deduce something odd about his family, “What was your mom’s name and why are all of your names so different?”

  “My mom’s name was Abigail, and she lived in England her whole life until she married my father. My sister was born in Iran, which led to her having a Persian name, and my father and I were born in Egypt. We all have names relative to the area we were born in.” He shrugged, “What about your family. Adarian, Rhianonn, Bronwyn, Elaina, Rowan, Izan, and Kairee? Those are all pretty strange.”

  “Our names represent the traits of our family: Adarian means noble, Rhiannon means royal, Bronwyn means fair, Elaina means light, Rowan is strength, Izan is courage, and my name’s Saizian for passion.” I told him.

  “Fitting. You’re passionate about this whole crime business, aren’t you?” He smiled.

  “Yeah, I am. I suppose my whole life has really been about passion. If we’re successful in this mission, I’m getting another tattoo to celebrate.” I said, hoping to shock him.

  And shock him I did. “You have tattoos? More than one? Why? You don’t exactly seem like the tattoo type.” He voiced his opinion aloud.

  “Look,” I said, pulling up my ponytail to expose my tattoos.

  “Nice,” He said, “You’ve really done everything haven’t you? Tell me a story before your brother wakes up, your favorite crime.”

  “Alright,” I smiled, somewhat perplexed, “When I was thirteen, I stole a priceless artifact.” I began.

  “What else is new?” He smirked.

  “Shut up and listen,” I said, “Anyways, this was no regular artifact, this was one of England’s royal crowns, Queen Elizabeth the Second’s first crown, the royal coronation crown. It was red velvet and gold with diamonds, worth millions after being worn by loads of kings and queens after their coronations, and I wanted it. To get it, I did everything. After planning for months and convincing my brother to stay back, I snuck into the palace she was staying at in Wales and held the Queen hostage for three days. The public never heard because I blackmailed her, it was the crown or her son, Charles. Of course she gave me the crown. She couldn’t very well leave England without an heir, and she knew the crown could be replaced. Though good old Liz wasn’t much company in the days I held her, she never did leak a word of that to anybody.” I finished, looking over at my brother.

  “You held the queen of England hostage?” Salah asked, incredulous.

  “You say that like it was a big deal. When I kidnapped her, the woman was in her eighties, it wasn’t hard. Though, to her credit, she did put up a fight. The British always do.”
I laughed, thinking about other run-ins that I’ve have with their Prime Minister, and the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

  “It is a big deal. I just can’t believe you’ve had a run-in with a monarch!” He replied.

  “Hundreds of them actually. I’ve only been wreaking havoc in this universe sixteen years, but I’ve been to at least a hundred planets and met all of their royalty. I’ve even held my own planet’s leaders for ransom on several occasions. I’ve been elected to run for office on thirty nations for gods’ sake! I’ve had a full life.”

  “I can tell. I know this crime will work out for you, and I hope you get a tattoo of me.”

  June 19th 8:15 am

  The Wythe Mansion, Unami, Planet Saize

  I was sitting in my closet, planning my disguise. Rowan and Salah were with me, ready to be fitted for fake noses. There were fake noses, wigs, hair dye, contacts, and full body makeup in one of my disguise drawers. I picked out two noses that would make both Rowan and Salah’s attractive features look more common for this planet. For myself, though, I wouldn’t even be wearing a fake nose. I was counting on freaking out the public by telling them that I could be coming any day after I had the Prime Minister’s signature.

  The public usually didn’t need the signature of the Prime Minister, as it’s fairly hard to get and pretty steep for entry to a public place with normal touring, but with the eminent threat of…well, me, coming in there to steal top secret police technology, every possible precaution was to be taken to keep me out. Obviously though, I had an intricate plan to get in, and it’s foolproof, because there’s a lot of fools at the Institute.

  “Is this how you do it?” Salah asked, looking at his fake nose that was sitting, crooked, on his face. Rowan smirked, and I noticed that his was perfect, as he had been doing this since we were ten.

  I sighed and pulled the nose off of Salah’s face, and he cringed as the partially set glue ripped off.

  “Don’t be such a fairy,” I rolled my eyes, “It’s only semi-permanent glue. It’s meant to be ripped off.” I reapplied the glue and then placed it over his actual nose and held it there for about thirty seconds, and looked at it.

  “Perfect. Now, go get dressed, and Salah, try not to look like you normally do. Rowan, why don’t you help Salah choose a nice suit, fitting for the Prime Minister’s husband.” I smiled.

  “From where?” Rowan asked, “He’s twice my size.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You two have got to be about the same size, even if he’s a little taller,” I smirked, knowing that would get to him. “Try a black suit with a red or gold tie, since those are Saize’s national colors.” I told him.

  Rowan rolled his eyes, “Fine. I’ll help him to not look like a monkey.”

  “Good. Now go, I have to get ready. Meet me downstairs around eleven, and then I’ll hook you up with wires and equipment.

  The boys shuffled out in awkward silence. When I heard the front door of the suite click behind them, I looked at myself in the mirror. I had decided not to go disguised at all, instead allowing for the shock that was inevitable when I pursued my plan.

  Pulling out my deep red lipstick, I expertly applied it over my full lips until they were glossy blood red, standing out like a deer slaughtered in the snow against my alabaster skin. This lipstick was special to my heart. It was laced with toxins that would not harm me, but if I were to kiss someone, they would pass out for a few hours after severe hallucinations, and, in the worst case, die. Called Hallucinogenic Lipstick among civilians, it’s one of my favorite, and most surprising, weapons of choice. I also put on gold eye shadow and glittery black mascara, the classic makeup style of this nation. As for my hair, I simply pulled it into an elegant, tight bun. I held a white gold pin with a red ruby butterfly on the top, ready to put it in my hair. But, then I had an idea that would completely change the outcome of this mission. This would be the secret weapon today.

  I got up slowly, holding the gold pin in my hands, and walked into the main room. I shut all the curtains, even though nobody could see me. I walked to the painting on the wall and felt around the edges of the black frame, searching for the wire that would activate an electrocution device if the painting was removed and the wire snapped. I felt it on the top right corner, and I pushed it down until it touched the wall. It released and the painting came off the air lock and I lifted it away, setting it carefully on the floor. I typed in my thirty-two number password – 92750153947134927595275916910284, completely random, the first numbers I thought of when setting the key – and then spun three dial locks expertly. Inside of the vast safe, stretching back six feet, in the back, was a thumb sized vial of the most deadly poison in all the universes – a liquid toxin that eats all flesh through the would, slowly and extremely painfully, until, eventually, the infected person dies. There’s only one cure, sitting in a black bottle next to the poison, a concoction that I had worked on for six years before perfecting it. I climbed into the box, crawling to the back. The safe slid shut behind me, but I wasn’t worried – the door could easily be pushed opened as long as it wasn’t locked. The lock on the door to my room clicked open and I sighed loudly in displeasure – a moment when I was inside a safe wasn’t exactly ideal for visitation.

  “What do you want?” I yelled, trying to be heard through the six inch steel behind me.

  “Kairee? Where are you?” I heard Salah’s voice, muffled, reach me.

  “She’s in the safe, doofus.” Rowan’s sarcastic voice came through. I chuckled.

  “In the safe?” Came Salah’s shocked reply.

  I grabbed the clear bottle, leaving the black one behind. With a crushing kick from my stilettos, the door to the safe slammed outwards, hitting the wall and beginning to bounce back. I wriggled out and glanced at my brother. There was a harsh expression plastered on his face, usual since Salah was there with us, but I could tell that there was something he needed to tell me, and it would probably make me angry.

  “What is it Row? I’m trying to get myself ready for the big scene today.” I told him heatedly.

  “I know but…well…the…”

  I heard this, but he mumbled the rest, “Spit it out Rowan!”

  “The prisoner, the imposter of our mom, escaped. I’m sorry Kai but I couldn-”

  “You let her escape?” I growled, “Was one of you watching her?”

  “Well…no.”

  “You left her unattended? That’s why she escaped, you imbeciles!” I half yelled, not really angry – I was way too excited for my shock on the Prime Minister today to be angry at my strong willed brother for a thick headed mistake, “Just leave, will you? Meet me downstairs in ten minutes.” I grabbed Rowan’s shoulders and gave him a little push towards the door, and Salah followed quickly.

  Once they had left, I glanced down. My hair pin was in my left hand, the toxin in my right. I took them back to the closet with me, took out a pair of plastic gloves and, very carefully, coated the pin in the toxin. It wouldn’t affect me as long as it stayed in my hair, but it sure would affect the Prime Minister and give the population of the planet a good scare. I slowly slipped the pin into my hair, feeling maliciousness deep in my heart. After finishing with my face and hair, I picked out a black, form fitting dress and a pair of gold stilettos. I decided not to wear any jewelry besides my family ring; it would only get in the way if I want to do real damage to the Prime Minister, and thus the nation.

  Striking fear into the hearts of millions, I thought to myself icily, is one of my favorite weekend activities.

  June 19th 12:05 pm

  Convention Center, Kaito, Planet Saize

  The convention center was just as beautiful as I remembered a tall blue glass building with a long, crescent shaped lake with white Lilly pads. The meeting had started five minutes ago, but we were fashionably late, as always.

  “So, how are we getting in?” Salah asked, “Risky and flashy?”

  “No,” I replied, “we’re going in the front door. We have to
remain inconspicuous until I receive the Prime Minister’s signature, and then…well, you’ll be surprised by what I have to do.” I grinned.

  “Oh gods, nothing good ever comes when she says something like that.” Rowan sighed.

  “Did you just say ‘oh gods’?” Salah wondered under his breath, more of a rhetorical question than a real one, but Rowan would never notice the difference. Rowan was really the kind of person who took things only one way – the way he wanted it to be taken. If my brother ever felt like he needed to answer a question, he would, but if he didn’t, even if the question demanded an answer, he wouldn’t.

  But, before Rowan had the chance to think up a snide remark, I replied for him.

  “Though my brother and I are no longer religious,” I began, “we were raised in the national faith of Saize, Nalakine. In that religion, there are gods for every element and gods for luck, wisdom, charm, karma, hatred, theft, accommodations, and energy. That whole bit has stayed with us for sometime. Even though I was banished from the church at a very young age due to the first murder I committed, I still have a tendency to say things like ‘oh gods’ and say mini prayers to Cane, the god of karma. He’s my patron god so it’s said that he watches over me in all my ventures. Rowan’s is Ki, the god of hatred, everyone in my family has one, but I only know Rowan’s, as it’s a ‘sacred bond to share only with three people,’ not that I believe that. All the rules are crazy.” I concluded.

  “Hm.” Salah replied, but with no humor in his voice added, “That’s hilarious.”

  “What’s hilarious about it?” I pondered, almost offended but not quite.

  “Well, I was raised a Christian, which is strange as to where I’m from, but in the bible of my childhood, Cain is a man that killed his brother out of jealousy, and was then banished. That’s why I think it’s funny.” He smiled insidiously.

  “I see. There’s a difference in spelling though. My Cane is spelled like a cane to walk on; yours is spelled as the name.” I told him, “Now, we better get in the building before they lock the doors off. This is infiltration, not third level Saizian history.”