GALLANT (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 3)

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GALLANT (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 3) Page 26

by Marilyn Campbell


  "I just want to be ready ahead of time. This is not the way my mother used to tint my hair. Are you sure it will come out?"

  "It's just a temporary rinse, not a dye. After a couple of washings... with shampoo and water, that is. Your ship's sanitizing beam won't have any effect on it. Which reminds me, you really ought to figure out some way to put a real shower on board."

  "We'll see."

  Cherry smiled at his usual response. "You might consider wearing a hat and tucking your hair up in it even though the streaks are hidden. Also, you definitely need to wear sunglasses, whether you have the patch on or not, and a less conspicuous outfit is a must. From what Rom and Aster said last night, Bessima has really managed to create a major disturbance with her illusions. It doesn't sound like there's a person on the whole planet who hasn't seen your face."

  Gallant frowned. "She accomplished exactly what the Princess expected her to by this time. It's quite amazing actually. I wouldn't have thought Terrans were so gullible."

  "Just because they're all talking about God's arrival doesn't mean they believe it will really happen. If you showed up in front of the horde that has collected around the White House, the chances of you being assaulted probably far outweigh the possibility of you being instantly worshiped. In fact, some newspaper undoubtedly did a poll on that issue already."

  "I could always have a little surgical rearrangement of my features—"

  "Don't you dare!" Cherry said, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "I like your face just the way it is."

  He grinned at her. "You could make me feel really good and say you love my face."

  "I could. But I won't. You're too cocky as it is. Someone has to keep you humble and I'm the only one volunteering for the job at the moment. I see you got one of those special rings from Rom."

  He held up his left hand and moved it back and forth so that the ornate gold ring with its fire opal setting picked up glints of light. The ring had innumerable capabilities, including its being a microcomputer and an extension of Innerworld's transmigrator. "Rom gave me enough instruction that I should have no problem using it to transport us from place to place and back into Innerworld when the time comes. Using it as a communication device would take a lot more practice than I have time for though."

  "Why would we need to go from place to place?"

  Gallant raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. "We don't. Are you about finished with my hair?"

  She made a face to let him know she suspected he was evading, but she let it go for the moment. "Leave the color on for five more minutes then go rinse it off in the shower. I'm going to start packing some clothes and toiletries for each of us. They don't have computerized supply stations and recyclable clothing out there, you know. Thank the stars it's summer, otherwise we'd have to take a whole wardrobe along with us."

  By midday they were in the transmigrator cell, dressed in jeans and t-shirts, with Gallant carrying one satchel for the two of them. There was nothing strange about Gallant's behavior, yet Cherry's feeling that he was hiding something was increasing.

  Her suspicions were justified the moment they materialized on the corner of a busy city intersection bearing street signs with the names Broadway and 47th Street. A quick scan of the neighborhood confirmed that they were in New York City, not Washington, D.C. "Either the transmigrator technician got the signals seriously crossed or this is part of the secret you've been pretending not to have."

  "Who, me? Have a secret from you?" He gave her a kiss on the nose. "I refuse to reveal any information one second before it's absolutely necessary." Placing his arm around her shoulders, he urged her to walk with him. "It should be right down here."

  "What should? Come on, you're driving me crazy." His sexy grin didn't help her bewilderment at all.

  "Here we are."

  He had brought her to the ticket window of a theater. While he picked up matinee tickets that had miraculously been reserved for him, Cherry glanced at the advertising poster for the show.

  "Dear God," she whispered as her eyes focused on one line—Starring Rose Cochran. Words escaped her as she gaped at the poster then at Gallant.

  With his index finger under her chin, he closed her mouth and gave her a light kiss. "She's expecting special, nameless guests backstage after the performance and no one else will be with her. But the decision is yours."

  Her eyes filled with moisture as she threw her arms around his neck. "You dear, sweet man! I can't believe you tracked her down, and... and..." Again she was rendered mute by emotion and settled for hugging him as hard as she could.

  "I gather you like my surprise," Gallant said with a satisfied smile. "Let's go see if she's as good as you."

  Cherry knew that Innerworld had Noronian emissaries that lived quietly in Outerworld, keeping their eyes and ears open for problems. These men and women were placed in strategic locations and careers so that they might be able to accomplish a variety of things without any Terran being aware of alien surveillance or interference. But reserving center front seats for a big Broadway show on a moment's notice and arranging a private appointment with its leading lady were not the sort of things Cherry imagined they usually did.

  The play may or may not have been wonderful. Cherry had no idea. She only had eyes for her baby sister, Rose. The physical likeness to herself was incredible, but she felt the younger woman's stage presence completely outshone her own. She felt proud enough to burst. As the curtain closed for the final time, Cherry's hands started shaking. What if Rose never forgave her for abandoning her? What if she didn't even remember her? What if—

  "Ready?" Gallant asked gently, squeezing her hand.

  She took a deep breath and stood up. "It's good you didn't warn me ahead of time. I'd have been a basket case before we got here."

  A stagehand escorted them to Rose's dressing room, knocked and announced the arrival of her guests. Rose opened the door with a bright smile... then turned ghostly pale.

  The stagehand was about to press the panic button but she quickly assured him that everything was fine and stepped back for her guests to enter. When she closed the door behind her, she slumped against it, saying, "I don't believe my eyes. You're going to have to convince me I'm not hallucinating."

  Cherry was paralyzed with the fear that she would not be welcome or that she would say the wrong thing, until Gallant gave her a nudge toward Rose. "When's the last time y'all played in the mud with a passel of piglets, baby girl?"

  Rose's eyes widened and tears made them sparkle. "It's really you? My big sister?"

  Cherry nodded as tears of her own ran down her face. "Would you object to a hug from a virtual stranger?"

  Rose opened her arms and they met each other halfway.

  Gallant smiled as the women's first minutes together were filled with nonsensical noises and unfinished sentences. He could see they were happy to see each other, but he himself had never felt so good about something that had nothing to do with him personally. Instantly he corrected that thought. Anything involving Cherry personally affected him as well.

  Eventually, the explanations began and Gallant was amazed at Rose's automatic acceptance. She believed every word she heard simply because Cherry had uttered it.

  "I have always known something freaky had to have happened to you," Rose said. "Otherwise you would have come back or at least written for me."

  Cherry's expression revealed her relief. "You honestly never thought I forgot about you all these years?"

  "Hell, no. I can't explain it but I just held on to the thought that you weren't dead, only detoured somewhere in your life. All the time my career was progressing, I kept thinking that wherever you were, you'd hear about me and, if at all possible, you'd come see me, since I didn't know how to find you."

  "Thank you, baby, for not giving up on me, and especially for making such a success of your life. You couldn't have turned out any better if I had been there every step of the way."

  "But, Cherry, you were with
me every step, in my heart. How else would I have made it this far?"

  Gallant swallowed down the lump in his throat as he watched the two women break into tears and hugs again.

  Rose informed the theater manager that she had a family emergency and would need her stand-in to cover the evening performance as well as those the next day. The three went out to dinner and spent the night in Rose's apartment in Greenwich Village. Though Cherry was determined not to ask, Rose insisted on talking about the rest of their family.

  "Tully's wife writes me a card every Christmas but the rest of our kin has abided by Pa's declaration that I was cut out of the family the day I left Georgia. Like with you, he told them the devil had possessed my soul and it would be fatal to make contact with me."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Cherry said.

  "Don't be. All that hate and Bible-thumping was damn depressing, but apparently you and I were the only ones who thought that way. The rest of them have little rug-rats of their own to dominate now and, from what I've read between the few lines I've received, Tully's the only one of our brothers who hasn't followed precisely in Pa's tyrannical footsteps."

  Cherry would have enjoyed hearing a fairy tale about how everyone had ended up living happily ever after but she knew real life didn't usually work that way. Besides, if Rose had said they'd all changed, she might have been tempted to go back and visit them too. This way, she didn't need to feel the least bit guilty about not seeing them.

  When Gallant awoke the next morning, the ladies were still talking, but at least the tears had been replaced by sporadic fits of giggles. Rose insisted on playing tour guide for the remainder of the day. Despite the endless hours of talking, however, they were still catching up when it was time for Gallant to get back to work the following day.

  "You can stay if you'd like," he offered, making it clear that he meant either for another day or forever.

  Cherry was terribly torn, but she knew she couldn't give up her career, Innerworld, or her friends there, nor would she break her promise to Rom and Aster to return as soon as the mission was over. She understood the reasoning behind the law that prohibited transplanted Terrans from returning to the surface. There was always the risk of discovery. Although she had broken the law by telling Rose everything, she was certain it would go no further.

  "Thank you, Captain, but I think that would constitute shirking my responsibility as your partner." She held up her robotic hand. "This mechanical wonder still has an important job to do, and where it goes, I go."

  "Will you ever be back?" Rose asked, the waterworks threatening to start all over again.

  Cherry wanted to make her a promise, but it took her eighteen years to fulfill the last one. She glanced at Gallant for help with her answer.

  "We'll see," he muttered.

  Cherry's face lit up into a smile as she told Rose, "He always says that when he doesn't want to say yes but he knows I'll get my way sooner or later. I can't say when but I'll be back someday."

  It took a while longer to say all the things they wanted each other to remember. Then Gallant programmed his Innerworld ring for a location a few blocks away from the White House in Washington, D.C., and he and Cherry were off.

  Where their arrival in Manhattan had been smooth and completely unnoticed, this migration landed them in the center of a shoving match, which their abruptly added presence escalated.

  "Watch it, bud!"

  "Where the hell do you think you're goin?"

  "Gimme a break! I've been standing in this same spot since yesterday."

  "Excuse us," Gallant said, using his larger frame and the satchel to make a wedge through the crowd with Cherry in tow.

  "Holy stars!" Cherry exclaimed as they headed away from the White House and toward the edge of the throng. "There must be ten thousand people gathered here. When I said a crowd was a possibility, I had no idea what we were going to encounter."

  "Apparently everyone is hoping to be a witness to the greatest event in the history of this planet."

  "Or to the greatest hoax, " Cherry countered with a smirk. "Finding Bessima is going to be like hunting the proverbial needle in a haystack. Your robotic hand's sensitivity to her Illusian body chemistry isn't going to do us any good if you can't move around to search for her. Listen, it's only noon now. There's plenty of time to go to the room Rom arranged for us, drop off that bag and get some lunch before we have to fight our way through the mob."

  As she waved down a taxi, a positive thought occurred to her. "One thing for sure, with that crowd, nobody will think anything of my touching them. I was a little concerned about someone thinking I was trying to get fresh." On their way to the hotel, she explained what she meant by that, promptly adding to Gallant's concern for her safety.

  Two hours later they returned to discover that the afternoon sun had sent a portion of the bystanders away to seek air-conditioned shelter. Because the crowd had thinned, Cherry and Gallant were able to quickly discern another problem.

  A two-block area in front of the White House had been cordoned off with a yellow-and-black-striped plastic ribbon, and an army of helmeted, baton-bearing police were very seriously obeying the order not to let anyone but members of the press pass the line. Within the secured area was a sea of people, cameras, cables and lights. Umbrellas provided shade for many of those who couldn't squeeze beneath one of the trees along the sidewalk.

  "Any ideas?" Cherry asked Gallant.

  "Bessima has followed her instructions up to this point. I think it's safe to assume that she will do whatever she must to be as close to those front gates as possible at three o'clock."

  "Yes, but how?"

  Gallant's greater height gave him a definite advantage as he studied the area. Suddenly he grasped her waist and lifted her so that she could see from his perspective. "Look. An officer just let that man in the yellow shirt go through. He doesn't look so different from me. Perhaps you just have to ask the right authority." He set her back down on the pavement.

  "No way. He probably showed him a press pass." She explained what that was. "I don't suppose Rom thought of giving you one of those."

  "No, but if you point one out to me, I can duplicate one for each of us. That's probably what Bessima would do too."

  Cherry frowned in confusion for a moment before she understood that he meant he could create an illusion of a pass. Now she knew why he had chosen not to wear the eye patch beneath his sunglasses. "See the rectangular cards attached to those people's shirts or hanging from a string around their necks? And there..." She pointed to a case sitting on the street a few feet away, with a pass tied to its handle.

  "All right. I've got it. Just hold your hand out in front of you as if you're holding a pass. Since I don't know how to make two separated images at the same time, you'll have to keep your hand right next to mine."

  Within a few minutes, they were inside the restricted area and picking their way through equipment and reporters in an effort to get near the front gates. Cherry laid her hand on every person she passed and was glad the summer heat had people wearing as little clothing as necessary.

  Gallant had suggested she not eliminate anyone as possible suspects. If Bessima looked anything like the female Illusians they had already encountered, she might be able to pass for a male. He also figured she was probably good at assuming a variety of disguises, since she had obviously blended in with so many different groups around the world without drawing attention to herself.

  Unfortunately, the simple act of walking around in an area where everyone else tended to be stationary, was attracting attention to Cherry and Gallant and they weren't able to check out as many people as they would have liked. It became apparent that Gallant was too big to go unnoticed and he agreed to stand still and let her stumble around without his escort. But he watched her every second, prepared to move at her signal.

  By four o'clock, they estimated that Cherry had touched hundreds of individuals without any of them causing the slightest tingl
e. They would have to return tomorrow and try again.

  Disappointed, but not completely surprised, they headed back to the hotel for air conditioning, showers and room service.

  "I suppose she could have been delayed," Cherry offered while they ate dinner at the small table in their room. "After all, she did have to cross the continent from her last extravaganza, and from what Josep told me, she would have to use normal transport to get around."

  Gallant buttered the last roll in the basket and gave Cherry half of it. "I lean more toward the possibility that she was there and we just didn't find her. I was thinking, we spent the whole hour close to the gates and people started noticing us. Maybe Bessima was hovering less conspicuously at the fringes, waiting for the Princess to show up before moving forward."

  "It's worth a try tomorrow. I got the distinct impression all those media people had staked out their own piece of the street and would remain in the same spot where I touched them today."

  "Right." He drained the last drop in his glass. "What did you call this drink?"

  "Dr. Pepper."

  "Remind me to take a can back to have it analyzed. I'd like to have it added to my ship's supply station menu."

  Cherry giggled. "That station of yours needs a lot more than a new drink selection. It should be completely overhauled."

  "Fine. Before we take off again, you have it reprogrammed the way you'd like. Neither Mar-Dot nor I have cared enough to take the time to have it done."

  "I don't know how you can say that when I've watched you eat every meal since we've been here as if it were your last. And let's not forget your enthusiastic appreciation of the Princess's food. You may as well admit it. You were afraid if you enjoyed the pleasure of eating too much, you'd be acting like a barbarian."

  He caught her hand and pulled her out of the chair. "Is it absolutely necessary to strip me of every secret I have?"

 

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