Dark Minds (Class 5 Series Book 3)

by Michelle Diener

  He choked. “Don't move.”

  He pulled away, putting a little distance between them, and grinned ruefully. “I should have remembered before I did that that we've got less than an hour before we board the trader and I need more time than that to do all my adoring.”

  He meant to make her laugh, but she gave a serious nod. She wanted hours of privacy with him. No greedy bite would do. She wanted to feast.

  She'd asked him if it were normal for the Grih to fall so easily into trust and desire. It definitely wasn't for her. She took her time with boyfriends before she was willing to make herself vulnerable to them.

  “Agreed.” She sighed and hugged him close, and he made another sound at the back of his throat.

  “Pity.” His lips brushed her forehead. “But for the best.”

  Something occurred to her. “What are we going to do when the traders realize I'm not Grihan?”

  He stirred reluctantly. “We're not going to say anything, and I'm guessing they won't either.”

  “What, just brazen it out?” She could do that. She wouldn't have found it easy in her old life, but since she'd been taken, she could brazen out a lot of things.

  He nodded, his cheek brushing her head. “Leave your hair down. There is so much of it, they may assume you've taken up some strange hair fashion, and they won't notice your ears underneath it.” He slid a hand though her hair and traced around her ear.

  “Whose hair are you calling strange?” Her lips curved against his neck.

  He smoothed his hands over it again. Gave a friendly tug. “Strange, but beautiful.”

  She gave a snort at that and then stopped talking. Her eyes were burning with fatigue, and she closed them with relief. She was so tired. The only sleep she'd gotten in the last day was right here on this explorer, when they'd escaped from Paxe. It felt like a week ago.

  Cam held her close, just like he had then, and she let the sense of well-being and happiness she'd hadn't thought she'd ever feel again wash over her.

  Chapter 29

  Captain Inita of the Grihan trader Veasin was suspicious, but Cam saw he couldn't quite decide why.

  Cam kept his words polite, his movements unthreatening, but he'd refused to relinquish his shockgun, and he'd expected his Battle Center uniform to make that a non-issue. Inita seemed to think Battle Center captains' uniforms could be bought at any street corner, and meant nothing.

  “If you could tell me which places of business you've seen Battle Center uniforms for sale, I would be grateful,” he told the thin Grih politely. “Dealing in Battle Center equipment is a high court offense.”

  Inita took a step back. “I don't know of a specific place . . .” He tried to keep his eyes on Cam, but he kept being distracted by Imogen as she pulled the small backpack Oris had found in his store for her out of the explorer. It seemed almost full, and Cam realized he hadn't asked her what was in it.

  “But you said they can be had anywhere. Where is anywhere?”

  Inita jerked his gaze back at Cam's insistent questioning. “That's what I've heard. I haven't seen it for myself.”

  Was he lying? Cam frowned as he studied their benefactor's face.

  “Do you see this symbol?” He pointed to the tiny silver embellishment on the high left-hand side of his shirt.

  Inita leaned forward and nodded.

  “That is the chip that identifies this uniform to my bio-signature. No one else can wear this uniform, nothing would work. Not its temperature regulators, not its shockgun protection, it won't even hold its shape.”

  Inita blinked. “I didn't know that.”

  “So you understand why I'm concerned you've heard that it is a simple matter to get hold of——”

  Inita waved his hand, dismissing the whole argument, his gaze going back to Imogen again, now standing watching them quietly. “You've convinced me, Captain Kalor. I was obviously listening to a tall tale. Keep your shockgun if that is Battle Center regulation.”

  “Thank you.” Cam's dry tone was lost on their host.

  “And you are . . .?” Inita asked Imogen.

  “Imogen Peters.” Imogen put her hands together and extended them for Inita to clasp between his own in the Grihan greeting Cam had taught her five minutes before they landed. “Thank you for coming to our aid, Captain.”

  Inita's hands were reaching out to hers when she spoke and he stopped dead at the sound of her voice. “You . . .” He looked over at Cam, astonishment on his face. “An orange? The same as the orange music-maker?” He addressed Cam, as if Imogen would be unable to answer for herself.

  Which was true, because she couldn't know what an orange was.

  He'd forgotten about the clips that had circulated after Rose McKenzie was found, visual and audio comms of her singing. The comms had swept through all four planets——there wouldn't be a soul who hadn't seen them.

  “She's not classified as an orange anymore, Captain. But yes, Imogen is from the same planet as Rose McKenzie.”

  “Captain Inita has seen Rose McKenzie?” Imogen asked and Inita turned to her, almost melting at her feet.

  Cam had forgotten something else. That her voice alone was enough to strike a cord in any Grih. His enjoyment of the smooth, lilting way she spoke had become normal to him far quicker than he would have thought. Perhaps because, aside from Oris and Paxe, she was the only person he'd spoken to for nearly two days.

  “Not in person,” Inita answered her. “But I have heard her sing. The loveliest sound I have ever heard.”

  “I was escorting Imogen to Larga Ways when we came under attack. Captain, I don't want harm to come to you for rescuing us, so I would strongly urge you to say nothing of our presence on your ship.”

  Inita looked at him, and Cam almost saw the fawning music lover fall away and the shrewd trader take his place. “I understand all too well. We will say nothing.”

  “Captain Inita.” Imogen touched the captain's arm lightly, and he turned to her. “Thank you for helping us. I know it's at some risk to you, and I want you to know we're very grateful.”

  Inita drew in a deep breath, as if he could inhale the sound of her voice. “We are most honored.” He turned and gesticulated to his first officer and another crew member who were standing near the small launch bay's door. “I think you would like some grinabo and a rest, after your ordeal? It is another five hours until we reach Larga Ways.” He half-turned to Imogen, not looking at her directly, but focusing on her feet.

  “Ah.” She darted a questioning look at Cam and he gave a quick nod. “Thank you.”

  “This way, please.” Inita was beaming.

  They followed him out of the launch bay——which only just had room for their small explorer and the pallets and stacked boxes of the trader's cargo——into a large, open area that served as the main living area for the crew.

  No passageways on this compact little vessel.

  Cam noticed colorful, patterned screens running along the sides of the gently curved walls which no doubt hid bunk beds for the crew to sleep in.

  “This is lovely.” Imogen looked around with genuine appreciation.

  Inita almost genuflected as he introduced them to his crew of eight. “This is Captain Kalor, of Battle Center, and Imogen Peters.” He looked at Imogen's feet again, and Cam thought he might burst from the excitement.

  “We thank you again for stopping to help us, I know it will have delayed your schedule.” Cam gave a formal bow.

  “It was nothing,” Inita said gallantly. “Of course we stopped.”

  “Have you heard what the damage is on Larga Ways?” Cam asked. “I know there was an explosion but repairs are underway.”

  Inita went pale, his head whipping around to skewer one of his crew. “Larga Ways attacked? There were comms to this effect?”

  The communications officer shook her head. “No, sir. Nothing.” She disappeared through the far door, to the bridge, probably.

  “What have you heard? I have family on Larga Ways.
” Inita stepped closer to Cam, and so did a few others.

  “That's all I know. There was a large explosion, but the way station was saved and is being repaired.”

  “When did it happen?”

  Cam thought about it. “Four days ago, I think. If my source was accurate.”

  The comms officer stepped back in the room and everyone turned to her. “I tried Larga Ways customs, but they aren't answering. So I called a friend I know there who works at one of the hotels. He confirms it.” She nodded to Cam. “Larga Ways isn't broadcasting it, per Battle Center orders, but there was an explosion. The docking facilities weren't affected, though, and reconstruction is already underway. They're accepting traders as usual.”

  “Well.” Inita looked at them more carefully than he had before. “Well, well, well. I appreciate knowing these things in advance, so I thank you. Your presence did not have anything to do with the explosion?” He looked at Imogen.

  She shook her head. What happened on Larga Ways wasn't her fault, it wasn't Fiona Russell's, either, but Imogen couldn't help the tug of guilt, anyway.

  “Imogen has never been to Larga Ways,” Cam put in smoothly.

  “It is a sight to behold,” Inita told her. “A beautiful place. I heard Gurtain, the famous Grihan music-maker, sing there when Larga Ways was opened for the first time. It was magical.”

  Imogen smiled at him. “As you obviously enjoy singing, would you like me to sing to you as a thank you for all you've done for us?”

  Silence descended so fast, Imogen edged closer to Cam.

  “Sing, for us? In person?” Inita sounded so horrified, Imogen look at Cam in distress. It reminded him that Rose McKenzie had had this same disconnect with them over the value of song.

  To the Grih, it was for important occasions, and not to be overused. To people from Earth, evidently, it was something dished out with abandon. And he supposed, if they could all sing like Rose and Imogen, perhaps it wasn't so strange.

  “You would not like it?” Imogen asked, after a pause.

  “No, no. It would be an honor.” Inita wrung his hands and looked at Cam desperately for assistance.

  “Imogen's people have a different view of song to us. They share their song more frequently, and gift it to those around them all the time.” There were only ten Grihan music-makers presently across the four planets, and their public performances were strictly rationed.

  “Oh!” Inita gasped. “I never knew . . . but how could I? Of course. You are sure you would honor us with such a gift?”

  Imogen now looked as if singing was the last thing she wanted to do. She shot Cam a dark look, as if he should have told her the ins and outs of singing protocol, and he caught her eye and smiled. Shrugged his shoulders.

  She narrowed her eyes, then turned to Inita. “The honor is mine, Captain.” And then she opened her mouth, reached in, and grabbed hold of the heart and soul of everyone in the room.

  Could the Grihan attitude to singing be any more convoluted?

  Imogen had been thinking of And She Was by Talking Heads while she lay in Cam's arms on the explorer, of how perfectly it seemed to reflect the place of acceptance she'd come to in this strange journey she'd been on. She chose to sing it now, surrounded by Grih who were staring at her with such perplexed, worried looks on their faces.

  All because she'd offered to sing.

  But she'd barely got into the first verse when the expressions changed from something approaching alarm to wonder, and she didn't know if that was better or worse.

  She had a good voice. She wouldn't have gone into teaching music if she hadn't, but they were looking at her like she was Dame Kiri Te Kanawa. Like the Grih prisoners in Paxe's hold who'd stepped in to protect her from the Vanad had done.

  Goo-goo eyes.

  She glanced sideways at Cam, and yep, he was looking at her with wonder, with such bliss on his face, she couldn't begrudge him.

  She realized she was clapping the beat, had started doing it without thinking, just like she'd have done in class to help her students keep time, and went with it, threw herself into the song wholeheartedly, because wasn't that what music was for?

  And if the Grih were mad about it, who was she to say how mad they should be? She was pretty fond of music herself.

  As she wound down, sang the last short, sharp verse, the absolute silence hit her. She'd never had such a captivated audience.

  She smiled at Inita uncertainly, and saw tears streaming down his face.

  “What song is that?” he whispered.

  “It is a song of the blue planet,” she told him.

  He said nothing more, but Imogen realized he couldn't, he was too overcome.

  “Captain Inita, I know this is a further imposition,” Cam's voice was rough, and he cleared his throat. “Could you get us through customs without questions? And ask your crew not to mention this to anyone for a few days? Until I can assure Imogen's safety?”

  Inita bowed his head, and Imogen thought Cam had pushed him too far. They were asking him to break customs law and to muzzle his crew.

  He raised his head, but he did not look her directly in the eye. “For you, music-maker, anything.”

  Chapter 30

  Larga Ways was amazing. Damaged, but amazing.

  Imogen held tight to Cam's hand as they stepped out of the trader and onto one of the long docking arms radiating from the central hub that was the way station.

  Above them, a dome of pale purple gel held the atmosphere in place. She'd sat in front of the screen as they'd come in to land, and saw Larga Ways was a tiny city sitting on a disc, with docking arms around the full circumference, like a stylized drawing of a sun.

  The explosion that had ripped through it had damaged buildings in an uneven burst, like a paint spill, from just left of the center. As they'd come through the gel wall, Imogen saw there was already work underway, and all the streets seemed clear.

  She angled her head to look straight up at the dome overhead, and Cam tightened his grip to steady her.

  The Class 5 that was run by Sazo hovered to one side of the sun, looming like a smaller dark star over Larga Ways, and beside it, the sleek, massive ship that Cam told her was a Grihan battleship, run by Hal Vakeri, the Grihan captain who had found Fiona Russell and alerted Battle Center and the United Council about her.

  The reason Cam was here in the first place.

  If only they could get a message to either without exposing themselves to potential traitors and spies.

  She tore her gaze away and focused on where she was putting her feet. They were walking among the crew, surrounded on all sides, and she and Cam both had a temporary work contract chip stuck to their shirts.

  “It's easier to fake temporary,” Cam had explained to her. “But we'll be the captain's responsibility, so he's taking a risk issuing them to us, because if we get into any kind of trouble, so will he.”

  Cam had given her his Battle Center uniform to pack in her backpack and borrowed clothing from the big engineer on Inita's crew so he could slip in without alerting anyone to who he was.

  If there were Tecran spies here, as Barj had told him there were, they would be watching the entry points just as carefully as the Grih and Balcoans.

  Cam kept his movements easy, looked around like everyone else, joking with the rest of the crew. Imogen wished she could be that at ease as she fiddled with the funny hat the comms officer had lent her to hide her ears and hair, and adjusted and readjusted her backpack over her shoulder.

  Oris had given it to her because it had a false bottom he assured her would fool Larga Ways security. No scan could pierce it, and she'd used it to hide her whip.

  At least she had a weapon.

  Cam had had to leave his shockgun behind. She could see he felt naked without it, slapping his hand down on his right thigh a couple of times as they walked toward the entry point to Larga Ways and then clenching it into a fist when he remembered he wasn't wearing his holster.

  Cam to
ld her the scan was continuous, from the moment they stepped onto the docking arm, and would pick up explosives and weapons, but hopefully no one would be scrutinizing individuals. If they were, she would stand out.

  She was at least a foot shorter, on average, than most Grih, and while two months of unappetizing food and three to four hours of yoga a day meant she was thinner and in better shape than she'd ever been, she still had more curves than they did.

  Looking like a teenager was going to be a challenge. But she was too short to pass for anything else.

  The hat sat low on her forehead and puffed up high, so she'd been easily able to make a bun and hide her hair underneath it. The comms officer had promised her it was fashionable in some parts of the four planets, and wouldn't raise an eyebrow.

  She breathed through her nerves and hoped it was so.

  They must have passed the security check, because as they reached the entrance gate, which was two poles set on either side of the docking arm, the force field that had fizzed and sparked up 'til now winked off and they were allowed to step through under the vigilant eyes of two guards.

  No one screamed 'stop!', so she tried to force her heart to slow down as they made their way into a small square edged with apartment buildings that glittered with reflective surfaces and mosaics in the late afternoon sun.

  “Before you go, I want you to know we'll be here for three days.” Inita held out his wrist, letting the rest of the crew go ahead. “My cousin owns a bar on the way station. You should go there if you need any help, and he will contact me. Here's the address.”

  Cam hesitated, then stepped forward, lifting his own wrist. They touched sleeves, and Cam gave a nod of thanks. “We appreciate all you've done for us, Captain.”

  Inita's gaze met hers, and Imogen forced herself not to look away when she recognized the deep reverence in his eyes. He said nothing, swallowing hard, and she stepped up to him and kissed his cheek.

  “I hope we meet again, Captain Inita.”