Maranta (Heroes of the League Book 7)
Page 13
The three of them sat down as Harm tried to explain, though he had no clue as to how he came to be aboard the Septar. "Yeah. I think I did die. My control of the bots slipped when your mom tried to get me to leave the room—she has that effect on me, you know. I felt the bullets hit and the last thing I remember was hitting the self-destruct button."
"But how did you get here?" Tannith asked as she squeezed his hand.
"I honestly don't know. I woke up down in the shuttle bay, next to the Conquistador. I was in some kind of flying medbed. I got out and came up here. It's all a little hazy," Harmon replied. As he spoke, someone joined them from outside the room.
Marta walked over to the three elves, but stopped when she saw Harm in full light. She looked at her daughter and Tannith and saw only pure joy on their faces, so she holstered her weapon and walked over to stand next to Harm. "Am I missing something?" she asked quietly.
Harm stood up, took her in his arms, and kissed her like the first time they kissed so many years ago.
"Harmon, it is you," she said as she put her head on his chest. She could see the bullet holes in his shirt and the blood stains. She reached up and pulled away his shirt so she could see the perfectly healed bullet wounds. "How?"
"I really don't know” He looked down at her and saw her squinting at him. "What?"
"I was wearing battle armor, you moron."
"I realized that when I picked you up. Can't fault a guy for trying to protect the woman he loves."
"Yeah. Next time, try impressing me with flowers, maybe dinner. Wait, I know. Why don't we ask Liz to renew our vows? She is the captain, and it is her ship. Now that would impress me."
Harmon smiled and kissed her once more. "I love the way you think, Capt. McMurphy," he replied. He frowned for the briefest of moments as a fleeting feeling of having forgotten something passed through him. He shrugged it off and returned to enjoying his return to the land of the living.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mitrell sat at her desk, pretending to read the daily reports while waiting for her visitor to arrive. A knock at her door interrupted her musings.
“Come,” she said before taking a sip of tea.
Her secretary, Millicent, walked in. “Mistress, OffSec Director Ciara Devlin is here to see you.”
“Thank you, Millicent, please show her in.”
Millicent showed the petite director in, then left the two ladies alone, closing the door on her way out.
“Director, how nice to finally meet you. Can I get you some tea?
“No thank you. I don’t plan to be here long.” She reached into her satchel and pulled out a folder, which she handed to Mitrell. “My people found your monitoring devices on our computer systems. When they determined you were behind them, they contacted me. Normally, I would pass the information on to the Tralaskan authorities, but not this time. I was intrigued. A Tralaskan of your stature having an interest in Cube affairs is out of character, so I did some checking. A computer search came up with one commonality between you and a member of my team: Atmar.”
“You know of Atmar?”
“I was there when then MSgt. Royce Aymar destroyed him.”
“What of Harmon Aymar?”
“He lives and he has no memory of what occurred during Atmar’s time in control.
“Are you sure?”
“Are you familiar with Venlanten Royals ability to read souls?
“Yes.”
“I read Harmon. Atmar is long gone and Harmon remembers nothing about the time his evil doppelganger spent running their body.”
“And you are sure Atmar is dead?”
“I’ve seen the recordings. He died in a rain of blaster fire, his nanorobot form reduced to slag.”
“And what of those responsible for not excising him from Harmon’s body, instead trying to turn the elf into a super assassin?”
“You know of that?”
“I know many things. What of Muntz?”
“Ex-Director Muntz has disappeared for the time being. We will deal with him if he ever shows his face in League space.”
“What of Harmon?”
“He works for me, now. He is under my protection…”
“He is your friend?”
“Yes, so keep away from him.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I can show you how much more than just reading souls I can do. I promise you, the experience will be very unpleasant.”
“We should all be blessed with friends like you.” She handed Ciara the folder. “Thank you, Director. You have my word that I will never bother Harmon about this matter. Good day.” She pressed a button on her desk, summoning her secretary. When she and the director had left, Mitrell sat back in her chair for a moment before pressing another button on her desk. “Fisk, this is Mitrell.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Activate the Vengeance project. Allocate anything you need.”
“Yes, Mistress. Have you found Atmar?”
“Not yet, but he is out there. I can feel it. Mitrell out.” She stood up and walked over to a window. “Pressa, you were an idiot, but you were my idiot. No one takes anything from me without my permission. Until we meet again, Atmar,” she said as she raised her cup of tea. She held it there for a moment before spilling it in the trashcan, a sign of a blood vengeance. “Until we meet again.”
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About Frank Carey
Frank Carey has been formally writing and publishing works of science fiction since late 2013. Over the years prior, he had dabbled in various forms of writing including haiku poetry, but that all changed when he and his wife, Jo, decided to try their hand at writing and self-publishing. All his work, to date, has been in the science fiction genre.
Most of his stories take place about two centuries in the future when Earth joins the League of Planetary Systems. Many of his protagonists are strong females. He is an inveterate pantser who believes the story will go where the story wants to go.
Frank’s background includes degrees in physics and extensive work as a scientific programmer and technologist.
Frank and his wife produce a podcast—Xtreme Self-Publishing—which details their self-publishing efforts.
Frank can be reached through his podcast at xtremeselfpublishing.podbean.com or via e-mail at elvenindustriespress@gmail.com or xsppodcast@gmail.com