by Elana Brooks
Orange Blossom Special
Elana Brooks
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Also by Elana Brooks
About the Author
Preview: A Yellow Wood
Chapter 1
Thirty years ago
The alien probed the mind of the human child.
Pleased with the results, Sarthex turned to the subordinate who’d suggested the ploy. “Yes, Dovex, this one will serve very well. The brain scan indicates the young’s telepathic receptivity is high Ex-caste level. Surprising.”
Dovex’s head dipped in agreement. “True, Commander Sarthex. Such psychic strength is rare among the humans. We’ve scanned many thousands and found only a few with such potential. Most of them were unusable because they also possessed significant precognitive abilities. This one has negligible sensitivity in that area. Less than Eek-caste.”
Sarthex’s huge ebony body flexed away from the computer display. Copper fins undulated through water which existed only in memory. “Ideal for our purposes. Begin the procedure.”
“Yes, Commander.” Dovex concentrated on the psychic amplifier. “First I’ll route the young’s precognition receptors through its telepathy receptors. That will allow us to direct our transmissions so they register as foreseeing, not communication. Then I’ll alter its brain to make it immune to our precognition shielding.”
“I don’t need every trivial detail.” Sarthex’s middle fins flicked impatiently. Even Dovex, the lowest ranked member of the Ex-caste who’d fled their home world before it burned, rated the honor of midfins, not the lowfins Sarthex used with members of lower castes. “Will the scheme work as you promised?”
“It will, Commander.” Dovex’s golden body curved respectfully. A bronze fin gestured. “I’ll be ready to make the first transmission shortly. Summon Rillex and prepare the false vision you wish to transmit to the humans.”
Sarthex glowered, displeased at the order from one of lesser rank, but chose to ignore the minor transgression. Dovex had performed well. This scheme would give them a strong strategic advantage against the humans. The inhabitants of the world they approached were weak, but they were numerous. Sarthex wouldn’t refuse any advantage, even one offered by a disrespectful inferior.
Rillex appeared at Sarthex’s summons. Sarthex briefed the navigator on the words that must be said and the emotions that must be conveyed. Rillex absorbed the knowledge quickly. When Dovex indicated readiness, they were prepared to begin.
Sarthex and Rillex took their normal places at duty stations on the bridge. Dovex hooked an astral recorder into the psychic amplifier and aimed it at them. A flick of a middle fin signaled them to begin acting their scene.
Rillex said, “The calculations are complete, Commander. According to the latest parallax readings, our previous estimate of the distance to our new world was somewhat short. Taking the more accurate measurement into account, our journey will take approximately two years longer than we anticipated.”
Sarthex swiveled to face the navigation display. “Let me see those numbers.”
After studying the readout for a long moment, Sarthex made a disgusted sound. “I suppose your next report will inform me our journey will be longer yet.”
Rillex’s snout dipped in earnest deference. “The closer we draw to our new world, the better measurements we can make. All earlier numbers were merely estimates. I regret that the revised projections displease you, but they’re grounded in the immutable laws of physics and can’t be altered to suit your preferences.”
Sarthex’s nostrils flared. “The deceleration schedule could be revised to allow us to stay at a higher speed longer and slow more swiftly.”
“The schedule as planned already requires the lower castes to expend their utmost strength. If we attempt to push them beyond their limits, we risk failing to slow sufficiently and overshooting our new planet. What’s a mere two years, at the end of a journey of thousands?”
“Five years,” Sarthex said coldly. “The revolutions of a dead planet around a murderous sun mean nothing to our people anymore. From henceforth we will use the aliens’ time system.”
“Yes, Commander,” Rillex said meekly. “My point remains.”
Sarthex studied the navigation readout for several long moments more. Finally all six broad copper fins flexed, sending Sarthex swimming through the airless space of the bridge to glare out the viewport’s wide expanse of glass into star-sprinkled blackness. The sun around which their new home revolved was a dim spark in the center. “Five years is nothing,” Sarthex said softly, menacingly. “Know this, human weaklings. We are coming. We will arrive. And when we do, we will take what we need. We will pour water into the oceans of our new home until they’re sweet and welcoming to our young. We will swim its waters and rebuild our cities in the sunlit depths. There is nothing you body-bound land-crawlers can do to stop us. Enjoy these last few years of blissful ignorance before you drown.”
Sarthex bared a mouthful of pointed teeth and hissed directly into Dovex’s recorder.
All was silent for several seconds, until Dovex telekinetically unhooked the recorder from the amplifier. “Magnificent. The human young will be completely fooled. It will be certain it sees the future.”
“For the rest of our journey, we three will meet here frequently for further sessions. Irregularly, to mimic the unpredictability of true precognition. As the human young grows, eventually our enemies will learn of its visions. They’ll welcome the information and base all their plans on the insight into our actions the visions supply. When we arrive long before they expect us, they’ll be taken utterly by surprise.” Sarthex’s voice was rich with satisfaction.
Dovex carefully packed the astral recorder into its case. “It will be as you say, Commander.”
Sarthex returned to the viewport. “Thirty years, humans. Not the thirty-five you’ll expect.” Thick black coils undulated and copper fins waved. “I wait with eager anticipation to see your faces and hear the panicked terror of your thoughts when you realize how you’ve been deceived.”
Billions of miles away, six-year-old Steve Miller woke up screaming.
Chapter 2
Present
Rosalia dropped her voice softer and softer as she reached the end of the meditation induction sequence. The last few words were barely more than whispers. She relaxed on her mat, letting her own tension drain from her body. She would give the class a minute or two to fully manifest the effects of her hypnotic words and subtle telepathic guidance before she separated her astral self from her body and went to check if anyone in this session had enough psychic potential to interest the Covenant.
Her mind drifted, open and receptive. The random floating lights of meditation swirled and coalesced, forming shapes.
A vision. As Abuela had taught her from
earliest childhood, Rosalia set aside her instinctive fear and filled her spirit with welcome and acceptance. Claridivencia was a precious gift. No matter how terrifying it might be to look into the future, the knowledge must be received with gratitude and used as wisely and well as the seer was able.
A car hurtled down a dark highway. It made a sudden sharp swerve. A cable flew from it, the grappling hook at its end sinking deep into a giant boulder. The cable yanked the car into a screaming turn. Its path bent around the rock. The cable broke, and the car sped along its new path, significantly slower than before.
Rosalia?
Bafflement at what the vision might mean gave way to mingled annoyance and curiosity. Why was Steve contacting her when he knew she’d be in the middle of a class? This had better be important.
It is. Steve’s mental voice was grim. Rosalia knew him well enough to recognize that whatever had driven his usual cheerful confidence from his mind must be grave indeed.
She immediately jumped to what seemed the most logical conclusion. The rumors are true? The Seraphim are here?
Instead of answering, he said, Can we meet and talk? It’s almost time for your lunch break, isn’t it?
After this session. All that’s left is the final check.
Don’t rush that. But when you’re done, let’s get together in astral form. Where would be convenient for you?
The nice thing about being back in Los Angeles for a few weeks was that she knew her way around. UCLA? West tower of Royce Hall?
Sounds good. I’ll be waiting. He broke off contact.
Rosalia pondered the exchange as she rose from her body and walked between the rows of meditating students, scanning for places their astral forms had separated from their physical bodies. A few fingers or toes here and there. Not worth recruiting to the Covenant. At least, not according to the protocol they’d been using. If the aliens really had arrived, far sooner than anticipated, maybe they’d need to pull even such modest talents into service.
She noted the mat numbers of a man with a freely floating leg and a woman with both forearms separated. Two strong candidates—a good result for a session. The marketing arm of HBQ was getting better at targeting their advertising. She’d seen a marked improvement in the average number of recruits per session over the past few weeks.
She hadn’t yet located anyone as strong as Beverly Jones, whose discovery was the reason she’d been given this assignment. Rosalia’s predecessor, Adrian Marshall, had been called to Headquarters to help train the woman whose psychic gifts he’d revealed. During the screening session she’d attended, he’d been forced to bond his soul to hers in order to save the life he’d endangered by his carelessness.
That’s why Rosalia was always scrupulous in her meditation instructions to describe only arms and legs floating free, never a whole body. And she always scanned the whole room the moment her astral form separated from her physical form, just in case some prodigious talent like Beverly managed to break free anyway. She wasn’t going to risk getting stuck with a soul bond she didn’t want. Her soul was doing very well on its own, thank you. Maybe someday, many, many years from now, she might find someone worth the sacrifice. But she doubted it. She couldn’t imagine ever being willing to relinquish her independence that way.
She returned to her mat, sank into her body, and quietly spoke the words that would guide her students back to normal consciousness. She sat up, checking everyone, especially the two potential recruits, to be sure they were firmly reintegrated into their bodies. The man was a little disoriented at first, but he shook his head and his eyes focused properly again. The woman was fine. Everyone else looked good, also. Rosalia thanked and dismissed them with the traditional “Namaste.”
Just as she did after every session, she bid farewell to the students at the door, then gave the mat numbers of the candidates to her assistants for follow-up. Most days she would use her hour-long lunch break to sample some small local restaurant. Since she’d arrived in LA a week and a half ago, she’d enjoyed visiting a number of old favorites and discovering a few new treasures. But today she headed across the street from the convention center to her hotel, grabbing a greasy burrito from a street vendor and eating it on the way up to her room. It wasn’t very nutritious, but it would keep her energy from lagging during the afternoon sessions.
She hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and made sure it was firmly latched from within. She didn’t like going out of sight of her body for extended periods outside the monitored safety of one of the Covenant’s meditation gardens, but less than an hour in a locked room should be all right. She lay down on the bed, took a few deep breaths to relax her mind into the proper state, and floated into the air.
She passed through the window and soared over the snarled traffic in the tangled streets below, reveling in the glorious freedom of astral travel. As she approached the university campus, she made a few adjustments to her default astral form, which as usual matched her current physical appearance. She replaced her sweaty yoga clothes with an elegantly professional blouse and slacks, indulging in shoes with three-inch heels since she wouldn’t have to actually walk in them. She put subtle makeup on her face and replaced her casual ponytail with a smooth twist. Understated gold earrings and necklace completed the look.
These days she seldom bothered to dress her physical body up so much, but it was so easy with her malleable astral form, why not? Steve was her boss. Making a good impression on him would help her career. Her psychic gifts were strong enough to qualify her for a fairly high position in the Covenant once she had more experience and seniority. She intended to climb the ladder as high as she could go. Steve was a member of the Eight, one of the Covenant’s leaders. His continued mentorship would be invaluable in helping her achieve her goals. That’s why she wanted to look her best for him. No other reason.
It was a lovely autumn day. The smog had cleared, leaving a bright blue sky littered with puffy clouds. Rosalia wished she had time to fly among them. The tree-studded campus was an oasis of green in the heart of the gray and brown city. She swooped down toward the red brick building at the center of the university.
Steve was waiting for her, perched on the rim of the tower flanking the left side of the entrance, his legs dangling over the edge. The sight made her stomach lurch, although of course his astral form was perfectly safe, only as subject to gravity as he wanted it to be. He waved as she approached. His welcoming smile was bright, but it quickly faded, his face falling into sharper lines and deeper folds than she was used to seeing there.
Rosalia settled lightly beside him. “You look tired.”
“I am. It’s been a crazy week. You, on the other hand, look terrific.” His gaze was frankly admiring, but after a moment he turned away. His voice dropped. “I’m afraid you won’t be so cheerful after you hear what I have to say.”
A shiver went down Rosalia’s back. “That comet that’s been all over the news is a Seraphim ship, isn’t it?”
“The colony ship. I went out with Solomon and Keiko a week ago and confirmed it. They’ll reach Earth in less than a month.”
Rosalia gasped, her eyes going wide. “But that’s not possible. Your visions—“
“Fake.” His voice was as bitter as unsweetened cocoa, his eyes as dark. “The Seraphim commander—his name is Sarthex—gloated at his cleverness and my gullibility. They’ve been feeding me lies my whole life.” He stared at his fists balled in his lap.
Rosalia ached to reach out and take his hands in a comforting grasp, but she didn’t. “I’m sorry,” she said.
He shrugged. “No use crying over spilt milk. We’ve made new plans. The Eight have been informing members of the Covenant over the past week on a need-to-know basis. But tomorrow we’re going public, so we’re giving everyone a full briefing today.”
“You must be insanely busy. There was no need for you to take the time and energy to travel all this way.”
He twisted his hands together. “I want
ed to tell you in person. Face to face, not telepathically. And… there’s something I need to ask you.”
Cold foreboding gripped Rosalia’s gut. Not precognition, but nearly as certain. Whatever Steve was going to ask her, she wasn’t going to like it. “What?”
He looked at his watch. “We’ve got time. Let me tell you the whole story. I think you’ll understand better once you’ve heard it.”
Rosalia shifted her astral form to face him. “Go on.”
Steve launched into the tale. He was a good storyteller. Rosalia was quickly caught up in his narrative, amazed and horrified by turns. She was relieved to hear that the Covenant had succeeded in recruiting several allies among the Seraphim, although they were low in the rigid hierarchy of castes. Even more encouraging was the fact that the humans had managed to outfight the massively powerful Sarthex, at least long enough to escape. But offsetting the good news was the shocking information that Sarthex had captured one of the Eight. Keiko’s astral form remained prisoner aboard the Seraphim ship, subject to torture in retaliation for the Covenant’s attacks. Torture that her husband Solomon, the leader of the Eight, shared through their soul bond.
“That’s how matters stand. This morning the Eight met. Beverly was sworn in to replace Keiko. We discussed all our options. Solomon is determined to continue fighting the Seraphim, even though he knows Keiko will suffer for it.”
“That’s horrible.” Rosalia swallowed. “But of course he has no other choice. He can’t let the Seraphim reach Earth and start trying to xenoform it again.” She remembered the raging storm she’d seen in the second Memory. It had been caused by the aliens aboard the scout ship, who’d telekinetically altered the orbit of comets to bombard Earth. The chunks of ice had melted in the upper atmosphere and sent water raining down. Rivers and seas had risen catastrophically, drowning huge numbers of people in the neolithic settlements that clustered near water. The survivors had passed down the tale of the flood until it had become a part of every mythology on Earth.
