Cherry had more or less figured that much out. "You and that Frezlo creature are both agents for hire?"
Gallant nodded slowly. "Working on opposite sides at the moment, however. And, I might add, with distinctly different methods of operation."
"So why didn't you stop Frezlo before he escaped?"
"Any attempt I might have made to intervene would have increased the chances of others being hurt. Frezlo has no conscience when it comes to eliminating anything or anyone in his way. Besides, I knew I could pick up his ion trail if I just got off-planet fast enough."
"His what?"
"Ion trail—charged particles emitted by the drive unit of his ship."
"Oh. Like a car's exhaust system. But I'd still like to know how you got me on board without anyone stopping you." Gallant hesitated long enough for her to grow suspicious again.
"I hid you in a trunk," he said with a warning glance at Mar-Dot.
Cherry had a strong feeling that he was lying but she let it pass. She also came to the conclusion that they were at a standoff and he was not going to budge an inch. However, she was more or less convinced that, between him and Frezlo, Voyager was the lesser of the two evils. "Okay. If you'll promise to take me right back to Innerworld afterward, I'll cooperate with Mar-Dot."
"Granted," he said, then nodding at his navigator, stepped out of the way.
Dot held a manicured hand out to Cherry and led her to the Captain's chair. "Please try to relax," she said after Cherry was seated. "I will try not to invade your privacy any more than absolutely necessary. I need you to help me by concentrating on the moment when the Weebort spoke to you." Gently she pressed the first two fingers of each of her hands against Cherry's temples. "Now, close your eyes and picture the Weebort in front of you. His mouth opens and he says..."
Cherry recalled the narrow forked tongue flicking in and out like that of a snake but she was still quite certain she had heard no words.
Without removing her fingers, Dot said, "Computer, record and translate the following sounds from the Weebort language." Dot did her best to imitate the garbled noises stored in Cherry's memory but without a forked tongue, the pronunciation could not be duplicated precisely. After she analyzed the problem, Dot said, "Apparently, there was too much external noise for her universal translator to pick up the Weebort's speech, so she was never given a translation. Thus, she has no memory of such."
She tried again and this time the computer offered an interpretation for one of the sounds—counterfeit.
"Counterfeit?" Gallant asked. "What the drek is counterfeit?" When neither the computer nor Mar-Dot answered him, he ordered, "Try it again. There has to be more than one word out of all that babble."
Mar-Dot made two more attempts to obtain a further translation, to no avail. "Sorry, Captain," Mar said with a grimace. "That is the best we can do. Perhaps he was referring to—"
A slight movement of Gallant's hand instantly silenced Mar. "Why don't you show Cherry the facilities? I'm sure she'd like to freshen up."
"It would be my pleasure," Mar said, offering his arm to escort her.
Cherry thought she noted a decidedly male gleam in his eyes a second before he whipped around. Dot's eyes held an entirely different message. "I will take her." She waved Cherry back into the narrow corridor. "This is a small craft, built for speed and maneuverability rather than luxury or carrying large shipments of cargo."
As they passed the first door on the left, Dot noted, "The exterior door operates only when we are on the ground. There are three rooms, Gallant's"—she pointed to the door on the right where Cherry had awakened. "Ours"—she motioned to the left—"and the facility chamber."
She touched the door at the end of the hallway and it slid open to reveal a gray-carpeted lounge about twice the size of Gallant's cabin, furnished with a royal blue sofa, two stuffed chairs and a low table.
On one wall of the room were two square metal panels and a monitor, which Cherry recognized as a supply station, but it was much smaller than the one she had in her residence.
Dot explained, "The computer will supply your verbal requests for food or clothing if at all possible but I must warn you, this compact version undoubtedly has a more limited capacity than the supply station you are accustomed to. I would suggest you keep your orders fairly simple."
Cherry shrugged. "Since I'm only going to be on board for another twenty-four hours, it really doesn't matter. However, I have one need that isn't going to wait that long."
Dot smiled and directed her to the partition in the corner. "The commode functions in the normal way but, because of the minimal storage space on board, there is no water for bathing." Cherry investigated the cubicle as Dot continued. "The red button on the wall activates the sanitizing beam in the ceiling. You just remove your clothes and stand beneath it for one minute. You will be as clean afterward as if you had taken a hot shower. You simply will not feel as refreshed."
"Nonsense," Mar countered, turning toward Cherry. "It is only a matter of getting used to it. Perhaps you would like to try it now. I will be glad to assist you."
Though the words were spoken sincerely, the look on his face was downright lecherous. Before Cherry could tell if he was kidding, Dot was back in control.
"Pay no attention to him, Cherry. He is only a man and therefore cannot stop himself from behaving foolishly. We will give you your privacy now."
Cherry laughed out loud as Mar-Dot exited the chamber in a series of rotations during which Dot waved good-bye and Mar blew her a kiss. Now that she knew she was on her way home, she could start enjoying her unexpected adventure. She might have liked getting better acquainted with Voyager as well, if he wasn't such a prig. His superior attitude and general unfriendliness completely negated how wickedly attractive he was.
A few minutes later she discovered just how limited her selection of fresh clothing really was. The choice of styles was between a pair of slacks and a vest, both black leather, in a large man's size; or a one-size-fits-all jumpsuit like Mar-Dot's, with or without an extra pair of sleeves. No shoes or underclothing were available. At least the second selection was offered in either olive green or white.
Since she wouldn't be caught dead in either black leather or olive green, she opted for a white jumpsuit and got ready to try out the sanitizing beam. Even if it wasn't a real shower, she felt certain freshening up would greatly improve her present condition and disposition.
* * *
"Shall I plot a return to Earth, Captain?" Mar asked after he returned to his place behind the control panel.
"No. Keep following Frezlo's trail," Gallant replied without looking up from what he was reading on the monitor before him.
"But, Captain," Dot said, "you promised Cherry you would return her to Innerworld."
"And I will, right after I deal with Frezlo."
Dot started to say something else but Mar took over. "My guess is he will head for Zoenid."
"That's better than a guess. He's going to have to lay low for quite a while after pulling two incinerations so close together."
On Zoenid, the only law was that there was no law, including no extradition treaties. Frezlo undoubtedly intended to seek shelter in that planet's southwestern quartersphere, where he could blend right in with the transient inhabitants—not because they looked like him but because there was such a variety of species residing in that inhospitable zone. The rest of the planet was a totally barren desert, where not even the most desperate criminal attempted to carve out a hiding place.
Tracking Frezlo at a distance the way they were, it was a simple matter to confirm whether or not he landed on Zoenid. After that, however, Gallant knew it would take a considerable amount of ingenuity to find the assassin and even more to get him to talk.
Oh, he had his ways, like any agent worth his credits. His ways just weren't like anyone else's. Gallant was certain he would be able to learn everything Frezlo knew, if he could find him. Although, as he had told Cherry, he pos
sessed no telepathic capability, his special talent was worth a lot more. Only a handful of people knew the secret and revealing it would result in dire consequences for everyone involved, primarily himself.
"Have you got a plan to draw Frezlo out?" Mar asked, knowing from experience how his captain's mind worked. "I doubt he will allow himself to be found once he reaches Zoenid."
"Right. I've been sitting here reviewing his profile. There's only one thing he fears enough for me to manipulate him with it. He likes to gamble. But how do I get him to my table? A rumor of a high-stakes game might attract him but it would also dredge up every other animal in the area."
"Excuse me, Captain. This is not right."
Gallant looked up to face Dot. "What?"
"The trip to Zoenid will take another five days. Then there is no telling how long it will take to lure Frezlo to you. You clearly implied that you would return Cherry to Innerworld immediately after we touched her mind. How do you intend to explain that it took twenty-four hours to get here but as much as two weeks to get back?"
Gallant frowned at her. He was doing his utmost to keep thoughts of Cherry out of his head. It was vital that he think of her as an inanimate object, rather than a living, breathing person. He could not afford to let his decisions concerning her be influenced by one of the troublesome emotional responses that perpetually simmered just beneath his image. "You know how important this mission is. I'll take her back as soon as it's convenient."
"What will you tell her?"
"I'll stick to my first excuse—that I'm trying to keep her safe from any possible repercussion from Frezlo. That should hold her for a while."
Mar asked, "Do you think there is any chance he is aware that the Weebort spoke to her?"
"Not one. If he had seen what I saw, her ashes would have landed on top of the Weebort's." Gallant leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin, as he often did when an idea was hatching. "But what if he found out about it... after the fact. Wouldn't he come looking for her... to verify the rumor?"
"No," Dot said firmly. "You must not do what you are thinking. Frezlo would come looking for her all right. To incinerate her."
"I'd protect her," Gallant countered confidently, already fleshing out his idea. "I'd only use her as bait to draw him out then I'd put her safely out of the way." He slowly swiveled his chair around a full circle as he formulated a plan that would allow him to use Cherry and protect her at the same time. He knew Dot wasn't going to like it but he counted on her loyalty and Mar's persuasiveness to keep her from objecting too loudly. "Tell me, Mar, do you still have that slave collar we used on you during the Orvanian uprising?"
* * *
Cherry felt so much better after taking off her costume and getting cleaned up, she was even considering forgiving Voyager for abducting her... if he apologized nicely enough. He had made excuses for what he had done but had not actually said he was sorry. As she pulled on the stretchy white jumpsuit and slipped on the sandals she had worn with the peasant costume, she decided he would have to rectify that oversight.
After a few minutes of looking around the facility chamber, she found a drawer of grooming necessities, including a hairbrush with some long, black hairs in it. She only hesitated a second before using it. After all, she figured she'd already slept in the man's bed. How much more intimate could a couple get?
She quickly fluffed her short hair back into its usual simple style and took a look at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. The jumpsuit was very different from the loose-fitting attire she normally wore. She noted that it was just as comfortable, since it fit like a second skin without being constricting, but it failed to leave any portion of her anatomy to the imagination. She always abided by the theory that the less a person revealed, the more curious everyone else became.
The outfit was completely seamless with long sleeves and a rounded neckline that scooped low enough to prove she was a woman, albeit a modestly blessed one—unlike her dearest friend, Aster, whose pregnancy only exaggerated what nature had already bestowed on her.
Cherry remembered the first time she and Aster met. If ever there were two opposites, the two of them fit that description. Aster stood over six feet tall in heels and her body set the standards for the word voluptuous. Where Cherry was outgoing and uninhibited, Aster was shy and retiring. Even their backgrounds were a world apart.
Cherry was born and raised on a dirt farm in Georgia where a low-income bracket would have been a step up. She and her nine brothers and sisters slept in the same room, and none of them ever laughed, or played, or listened to music for fear the devil would possess their souls.
At an early age she learned that love was the reason her parents had too many mouths to feed, and love was the motivation behind the rigid rules and severe punishments the children received. Their religious fanaticism was even borne of an excess of love for God. Love was something Cherry was determined to keep out of her life.
From the day she entered first grade and realized she had a name of her own, Cherry wanted more. Up to that time she had answered to "girl" just as her sisters had. There were no individuals. They were all appendages of one unit commonly referred to as "the chilluns."
Her dream of becoming someone special had germinated then but wishing it aloud had earned her a beating. Her mother swore she would burn in hell for such thoughts but she couldn't get it out of her head. The first time she saw a motion picture, she knew she wanted to become a star. She would secretly act out her imaginary stories and pretend everyone came to see her, begging for her autograph.
The day after high school graduation, she walked out of that two-room shanty and never looked back. She hitchhiked to California with high hopes and few tangible assets. As luck would have it though, she got a ride to San Francisco instead of Hollywood. Out of money, she found a job in that city, as a receptionist for the Mackenzie Foundation, but still intended to follow the stardust trail to L.A. as soon as she could afford it.
The first day of her first real job was when she connected with Aster. It had been Aster's first day too, but that was the only thing they had in common. Besides their appearances and personalities, there was another major difference between them. Aster was disgustingly rich.
The Mackenzie Foundation had been set up by Aster's grandmother to give away some of the family fortune. Aster had just received her PhD in economics from Harvard and had been groomed since childhood to take over the Foundation.
Before long, Cherry had challenged herself to break Aster's mundane lifestyle of working, eating, sleeping and more working. It had taken months for Cherry to force a good laugh out of her but it had been worth the effort. Aster turned out to be the best friend Cherry ever had and vice-versa.
Eight years later when her grandmother died, Aster took over as director of the Foundation and Cherry moved up as her efficient, yet carefree, executive assistant.
Cherry never made it to Hollywood, nor could she take complete credit for turning Aster's life around. But fate had given each woman her heart's desire in the end.
Aster mated with the man of her dreams and managed to indirectly make a positive impact on the planet's environment.
Cherry became a star—the only thing she had ever wished for. Achieving that goal in Innerworld had made her happier than she had thought possible... for a time. Lately, though, she had become bored with the routine of her work. There was nothing she wanted to do more than act. It simply wasn't a challenge anymore.
The moment she heard about the Noronian Performing Company audition, she had her new challenge. She hadn't even realized how confined she felt in Innerworld until she imagined traveling to other planets.
Freedom. Even a million miles from that dirt farm in Georgia, the word still had the power to make her pulse race. With a smile on her face and the determination to enjoy her first taste of outerspace, she returned to the bridge.
"Oh, my," Mar said appreciatively as Cherry entered then he immediately tu
rned so that Dot could see what had surprised him with her own eyes.
"Oh, my," Dot repeated in a different, more concerned tone of voice. "You certainly look... different."
Cherry laughed. "Geez, I hope so. That peasant maiden get-up is one of the worst." Her gaze moved to Gallant as he started to turn around then paused to adjust his eye patch. She couldn't help but wonder why he had to wear such a thing when any physical defect she knew of could easily be repaired by Innerworld's medical personnel. What could it be hiding?
She waited for the kind of complimentary greeting men usually paid her as Gallant quickly scanned her from head to toe, but he swiveled back around without a word.
"Well," she said when it was obvious he wasn't going to comment on her improved appearance. "What do y'all do around here for fun?" she asked, momentarily slipping back into her Georgian accent.
Before anyone could answer, she walked to the side of the bridge and touched the glass. "This is really amazing. It's practically invisible. How does it stay so clean?" She pressed both hands against the glass then stepped back. Her prints remained visible for only a few seconds before they vanished. "Self-cleaning, huh?" She turned to see Mar grin at her and she smiled back.
Cherry circled the bridge, looking out from every angle possible. "It's so dark. How can you tell where you're going?" When she received no answer to this question either, she walked up behind Gallant and tried to read what was on the monitor in front of him.
Gallant tensed as he felt her hovering over him. It was bad enough that he had made the mistake of seeing what she looked like out of costume, with her this close he could practically feel the energy radiating from her body. She was making it extremely difficult to think of her as an inanimate object. "Perhaps you would like to read or watch a video. There's a personal viewer in my room you could use."
"I'd rather take in the view right here. What's this?" she asked pointing to the grid on the screen in front of Mar-Dot.
Dot turned to her with a smile. "That's the sector of space we're in now." She touched an illuminated blue spot on the grid. "There we are."
GALLANT (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 3) Page 3
