Trouble In Mind (Interstellar Rescue Series Book 2)

by Donna S. Frelick

  Sennik darkened his aura to the appropriate shade of purplish black in apparent sympathy and watched as his fellow directors around the table hastened to do the same. A few of them, he knew, would be slower than the others to adjust to the proper mood. They were already his allies in secret, though even they did not know to what extent he was responsible for the day’s events: Rhondis, at Agriculture, who had scoffed early and often at the idea of replacing human slaves with androids; Tarrik, of the Ministry of Mines and Natural Resources, ever pressed for replacement labor in a dangerous occupation; Zipriss, Commanding General at the Ministry of Defense, an old warrior not yet ready for the new day. Until recently, the four of them had been under siege on the Council, often outvoted and outmaneuvered, characterized by their opponents as holdovers from an earlier era. That would soon change.

  This is sad and disturbing news on many levels for the future of the Consortium. The Second Oligarch was as old as the swamps and showed it in her sagging skin and dull aura. But no one dared speak against her in Council. The Zalin facility produced the majority of android workers in the Consortium and housed all of the research and development laboratories. Lord Vadis himself directed almost all of the research—he is irreplaceable. As for who will take over the assets of the company . . . She shook her head. That is a moot point. There are no salvageable assets beyond the credits in the company accounts, and any successor that might have taken Vadis’s place is dead.

  Another, deeper exclamation went around the room. Here was one implication some people had not considered, though it had been Sennik’s main goal.

  Are you saying, Madam Oligarch, that we effectively have no android manufacturing capability in the Consortium as of today? This from the Director Prime of the Ministry of Health and Public Welfare, a female of little intelligence, in Sennik’s opinion.

  That is so. The Second Oligarch nodded. If we wish to have an alternative to slave labor in the form of androids, we will have to purchase them from another source.

  That will not bode well for our balance of trade. The Director Prime of Commerce showed an aura that was gloomy and black.

  Worse. General Zipriss wore an aura the threatening colors of a thunderhead. We’d have to buy them from the mrilling humans on Terrene.

  Auras at once flashed bright green with fear, underlit with the red of rage. Just as Sennik expected. Even the most liberal of his fellow directors could not accept such a thing. He let the pause lengthen as all considered this dark possibility.

  Then he spoke. My fellow directors, this is not the time to mire ourselves in the mud of negativity. The Consortium has sustained a severe blow today. Some of us have lost dear friends. We must take the time to mourn our losses, bind up our wounds and retrieve what we can from the wreckage. There will be time later to think of long-term strategies for meeting our labor needs. My ministry and I will be at your disposal when the time is right.

  There was silence while all present stared at him. Perhaps he’d overdone it? But, no, the Chief Oligarch was nodding, his black aura showing streaks of silver.

  Spoken wisely, Director Prime. Let us take this solar cycle to seek comfort in the circle of family and friends. By the end of the cycle tomorrow we will have the complete report on what happened at Zalin. We can begin making plans to compensate for its loss at that time.

  There were nods around the table and auras shining with the requisite respect and agreement as the directors rose to await the departure of the Chief Oligarch and his two ruling partners. Sennik darkened his own aura afterward as if in mourning or deep thought and avoided conversation with any of his fellows as he left the meeting room. It would have been just too difficult to hide his satisfaction throughout any extended interaction. And he could not afford to let his reaction be seen in a public place.

  Perhaps he would ask his Director Second to join him at his home. Yes. Ilia had been a tasty morsel that day in his office. He could express his elation with her in a very satisfying way. He was barely able to control the flare of bright blue that shot through his aura at the thought of the evening ahead.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Outside Little Rock, Arkansas, Earth, Sector Three

  Lana wanted to wait as late as she could before calling Frank Ballard. She was pressing her luck enough already without waking her boss at oh-dark-thirty. She packed up the car and went to the motel lobby for coffee, willing the minutes to pass until it was a decent hour of the morning to make the call.

  Gabriel had been trailing her like a shadow. If it weren’t for the case, when he’d knocked on her door in the middle of the night she might have opened up just to clock him one and slam it shut again. Every minute with him now was torture, remembering how he’d made her feel. Like no man had ever made her feel. Then remembering how it had all fallen apart—discovering him there in her mind, realizing he’d been there all along.

  She exhaled a breath that came close to a growl, exasperated with him, exasperated with herself. She was just going to have to set this aside for now. She didn’t have time to think it through. She didn’t have time to feel the hurt or the anger. A woman and her child were depending on her to help them and, damn it, the actions of a slimeball, mindsucking, bastard, half-breed Thrane were not going to put her off her stride.

  Lana stopped, her coffee cup halfway to her mouth. She stared at Gabriel, who was studying a roadmap, comparing it to satellite images on his computer. What the hell had she just called him? Half-breed? And what the hell was a Thrane?

  With a sickening sense of inevitability—of doom, even—a new realization dawned in her mind. She set her coffee cup down with deliberate care and closed her eyes, fighting a wave of disorientation. He wasn’t just in my mind, she thought. I was in his, too.

  How that could be she didn’t know. She had no psi talents. She didn’t want any, either. And she most definitely did not want any part of rummaging around in Gabriel Cruz’s mind.

  Did he know about this? If not, she was not going to enlighten him. She could sense a huge pool of knowledge, of potential, of connection, waiting just below the surface of her conscious mind, waiting for her to tap in. Something told her it was all there for the taking—all the details of his life, all the contours of his psyche—just as hers were there in his mind. Why did that frighten her so much? She should be gloating, ready to use the dirty little secrets of his mind to bring him to his knees. For some reason, the idea didn’t appeal at all.

  Instead, in her imagination she built a thick, high fortress around that treasure trove, and around that a deep moat, and on the moat’s banks an impenetrable thicket. She wanted nothing to do with what was behind those barriers, whether she discovered it by using her mind or just by asking Gabriel an innocent question. Gabriel was officially off limits. From now on, their relationship would be strictly professional, no matter how much that hurt.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” Gabriel nodded in the direction of the breakfast buffet.

  She scowled. “Not hungry. What time is it?”

  “Just coming up on six.”

  “Guess I can’t put it off any longer.” She pulled out her cell and hit the speed dial for Ballard’s home phone.

  The old man skipped the growling and started right in on the barking. “Jesus Christ on a fucking crutch, Matheson, did I not make it clear to you just how much shit you’re in? You have to piss me off some more by calling me before I’ve even had a cup of coffee? How about I assign you to scrubbing toilets next, would you get the message then?”

  “No, sir, I’m quite clear on my current status. And if this was not vitally important, I would definitely not be disturbing you, sir.”

  “Vitally important, huh? What’s the matter, got a cat up a tree in Iowa? Or maybe you need to blow up a ranch in Texas.”

  She dodged the acidic commentary on the other end of the line and pressed on. “Sir, I have a lead on the possible whereabouts of our kidnapping victims. They were seen leaving the house before we got there ye
sterday—”

  “Stop right there, Agent Matheson.” There was no misunderstanding his tone. “Don’t say another fucking word! Were you not ordered off this case last night?”

  “Yes, sir. But—”

  “What part of that is not clear? You are off the case. That means you don’t turn up leads, you don’t pass on leads and you most certainly do not follow up leads. It is no longer your case, do you understand?”

  “Sir, can’t you just pretend that I’m a citizen reporting a good lead? You wouldn’t jeopardize the case just because I personally am”—she grit her teeth—“a screwup.”

  Ballard blew a huge sigh through the mouthpiece into her ear. “Okay, look. Normally, Lana, you are not a screwup. Normally, you are one of my best agents. How in hell you screwed the pooch out there in Little Rock I’ll never know, but you did it royally, and as a result my ass is in a sling, too. But you can ease your little heart on one thing, girl. Your innocent kidnap vics? Turns out they’re not so innocent. Mom has been ID’d as a person of interest by Homeland Security—they were the ones who sent a team to pick her up. Guess Junior just went along for the ride, and they’ll send him home when they get around to it.”

  Lana’s heart stilled in her chest. “What?” The single word was all she could manage.

  Ballard chuckled. “Yeah. Nice of the assholes to let us know, right? I got a phone call just before I called you last night telling me to lay off, that this Asia Roberts was theirs. Guess I should have known when that former Green Beret turned up as one of the ‘perps,’ huh? Those guys don’t always play nice when they make their pickups. I gave him hell about interagency cooperation and all that hoohah, like it’s gonna do any good.”

  An oily black cloud threatened to steal her vision; a roar of sibilant static drowned out Ballard’s chatty voice on the phone. Her thoughts raced off on a dozen tangents: the HomeSec story was obvious bullshit; none of her team’s investigation had turned up any connections to international or domestic terrorism. The possibility of Asia’s psi talent was a more plausible reason for a black ops section of government to want her. And now her own boss was ordering her to stand back and let them kidnap an innocent U.S. citizen and her child?

  Finally the pure, white-hot flame of rage provided a point for her focus. And as she burned with it, a plan resolved itself in her mind.

  She took it one step at a time. “But what about the van? And there were four men killed in that house—”

  “Every one of them with drug records as long as your arm. HomeSec made the switch to a different vehicle, then left the van in the alley, figuring we’d track it eventually. They didn’t count on drug dealers being stupid enough to pull it into the garage—or a rival gang hit on the house.”

  “Well, shit.” She held back her disbelief and allowed only disgust to come through. “You’re telling me I just threw my career in the crapper for nothing?”

  Ballard grunted. “Just keep your head down. This’ll all blow over eventually.”

  “Yeah. I guess all this is getting to me a little bit. I got a little banged up last night, and I’m feeling it today.”

  “Damn, girl! That wasn’t in Trent’s report!”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me? I imagine you’ll see a few things different in my report.”

  “Well, what happened? You okay?”

  “Just a bad burn, some bumps and bruises. I was chasing down a perp and caught the tail end of the explosion.”

  Just as Lana had hoped, Ballard envisioned the worst. “Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you check yourself into the hospital?”

  “Well, the EMT wanted to take me in, but Trent needed to dress me down and I had to wrap up the scene and—”

  Ballard interrupted with a long string of creative cursing. “You ain’t got the sense God gave little green apples. You take some time off and heal up, you hear me? That’s an order. I don’t want to see you in this office for at least a week.”

  Lana poured on the charm, just to make sure. “Aw, c’mon, boss. What the hell am I gonna do at home for a week?”

  “Who says you have to stay home? You’re already in beautiful downtown Little Rock. Take a vacation, for all I care. Just don’t come in to work. You almost got yourself blown up into tiny pieces for some HomeSec asshole. You deserve a little down time, courtesy of the United States government. Take it.”

  Gabriel was eyeing her with curiosity. Lana ignored him.

  “You’re the boss. What do you want me to do with the car?”

  “Park it until you’re ready to come home, then drive it back. I’ll see you in a week or so.” He didn’t linger. The line went dead.

  Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  “Good news is I’m free to chase these bastards down.” She swallowed the last of the coffee in her cup and got up from the table. “Bad news is, from now on I’m on my own.”

  She headed out the door, Gabriel on her heels. He caught her as she reached the car and opened the driver’s side door.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “That’s my business.” She slipped in behind the wheel. “Where can I drop you?”

  Lana wasn’t sure if she was prepared to leave him standing in the parking lot, but Gabriel apparently wasn’t taking any chances. He threw his bag in the back of the car, slammed the door shut and jumped in the passenger seat before she could put the car in gear and take off.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

  “Watch me. I’ll be damned before I sit in a car all the way to freakin’ Oklahoma with the man who mindfucked me.” The words shot out of her mouth, shocking them both. She sat shaking in the emotional backwash, anger and hurt close to carrying her beyond the limits of her control.

  Fury sparked deep in Gabriel’s black eyes. “What I did was a violation. I know that. But it wasn’t deliberate.”

  “Just tell me. What the hell happened last night? How could you—” her voice caught; she stopped, started over—“how could you do what you did to me?”

  Gabriel breathed out a curse in a language she didn’t recognize and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Lana, you have to believe me. I could not control what happened last night. Keeping my shields up—maintaining my distance between myself and others—is a constant act of will. When we made love I couldn’t think of anything but you. For the first time in my life, my shields dropped on their own, and before I knew it, we were . . . together.” He looked as if he would touch her, but she bristled and he backed off again. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

  “Yeah. Well. Couldn’t have proved it by me.” The bright flare of anger subsided to a weary ache. Maybe he hadn’t been able to control what had happened. That didn’t excuse it. And the feelings she had for him? She’d just have to get over them. “We’re done, Gabriel. Understand? I’m finding the nearest rental car agency, and we’re renting two vehicles. We’re going our separate ways.”

  He shook his head. “We’re not done. You need me.”

  “You arrogant son of a bitch!”

  “Tell me about the phone call.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “You’re off the case. That means you have no access to FBI resources.”

  She stared out the windshield. She had friends in the Bureau she could rely on, favors she could call in, but it wouldn’t be easy. And she just had the one lead that Gabriel had given her. Who knew if Sam would continue to help her without his intercession?

  “Lana. You need my resources. I need your expertise. Asia and Jack are still out there. Together we can find them and bring them home.”

  She turned to look at him and caught the glimmer of banked fire deep behind the cold surface of his dark eyes. This fight wasn’t over, for either of them.

  “Okay,” she said. “For now.”

  The cell was dark, not merely the dark of night or of the unlit corridors of the training compound after hours, but th
e dark of deep places in the musty earth, the dark of shadows untouched by any source of light. He couldn’t see the walls, though he knew they were exactly four steps in any direction from where he sat on the unyielding stone of the floor. He couldn’t see his hand, shaking at the end of his thin, knobby arm. He might as well have been blind. If he were to spend more than a few weeks in the cell, he would be blind.

  He shivered, naked, curled up upon himself in a useless effort to conserve his body heat. He’d been here before. He knew it would be a long time before they came for him. He had to survive until then. It was a test. It was always a test.

  The first time he had made the mistake of trying to sleep. They had attacked through his dreams, and he had not been able to defend himself. The nightmares had bled over into his waking state as hallucinations he could not shake, terrors that would not release him. Rodyn had been forced to stop the exercise and bring him out of the cell. Then his teacher had beaten him for his stupidity. He hadn’t fallen asleep again.

  Now he waited, controlling his breathing as best he could. He monitored the levels of his emotions—the normal fears of the dark and isolation and cold that an eleven-year-old boy would feel. These he tamped down easily. They were his to control, after all. Not everything he would experience in this cell would be.

  From one corner of the cell came a slither and a sigh of sound, not very loud, just enough to make his head snap around. Then silence, as profound as the darkness. His heartbeat filled the space, pounding in his ears over the sawing of his breath as he strained to listen for more. There! A soft sibilance, closer now, and . . . and thicker somehow. It was a . . . a snaky sort of sound, he thought, and as soon as he identified it, his mind exploded with the image. There was not one serpent in the cell with him, but dozens, coiled and snarled upon each other all around him. The floor of the cell was alive with their writhing bodies. They had only to move a few inches and they would be on him! Some of them had to be venomous. They would bite him! He would die a horrible, choking, agonizing death!