The Bearens' Hope: Book Four of the Soul-Linked Saga

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “We must ask Saige for help,” Val said.

  “Saige?” Garen asked blankly. “How can she help?”

  “She will be able to advise us on how to handle this,” Val said.

  “We must tell Lariah,” Trey said. “There is no other choice. We cannot keep this from her.”

  “Saige will not be able to change that,” Garen added.

  “Saige will be able to advise us on how to tell her,” Val insisted. “Please, let us ask her.”

  Garen nodded in agreement. He did not know if Saige could help, but it was worth a try. He turned to the vid terminal and quickly transferred the Bearens’ message to a memory crystal.

  “Let’s go now,” he said. Before Trey or Val had a chance to nod, Garen was gone. Val and Trey looked at each other for a moment, then they too disappeared from the room.

  Seconds later all three Dracons stood outside of the Lobo’s home, waiting for someone to answer their knock. When Saige opened the door she knew with one glance at their faces that something dreadful had happened.

  “Do you need Faron?” she asked at once.

  “No Saige, we would speak with you, if you don’t mind,” Garen said.

  Saige nodded and led the way into the house, across the living room, down the hall, and into the meeting room. Faron rose from his work at the table at their entrance and bowed.

  “Please play this,” Garen said, handing the memory crystal to Faron.

  Faron took the crystal and inserted it into the vid terminal without asking questions. He had known the Dracons his entire life, and it was clear to him that something dreadful had occurred.

  A moment after the message began playing Saige gasped aloud, her hands flying to her mouth as though to hold her feelings in. Faron guided her to a chair, urging her to sit, which she did without taking her eyes from the vid screen. When the message was complete, Faron turned it off, removed the crystal and handed it back to Garen. He never wanted to hear that message again.

  “Saige,” Garen said softly, “we ask for your assistance in this matter.”

  “What would you like me to do?” Saige asked, tears running unchecked down her face. “I will do whatever I can for Lariah, and for you, you know that.”

  “Thank you, Saige,” Garen said. “We ask that you advise us on the best way to break this news to Lariah.”

  “Where is Lady Anne?” she asked.

  “Our mother?” Garen asked in confusion, uncertain why she would ask that.

  “Yes, your mother,” Saige replied. “Have she and your fathers returned from their trip yet?”

  “Yes, they returned a few days ago and are currently at home in Berria,” Garen replied.

  “Good,” Saige replied with obvious relief. “You must bring her here. Lariah will need her when you break this news to her.”

  “Very well,” Garen replied. “May I ask why?”

  “Lariah adores Lady Anne,” Saige said. “She is the closest thing to a mother Lariah has had in many years, and she will need a mother for this.”

  “I will speed travel to Berria at once,” Trey offered. Garen nodded in agreement and Trey vanished from the room.

  “You should also get Doc,” Saige suggested.

  “Why will we need Doc?” Garen asked.

  “This is going to be very difficult for Lariah,” Saige said. “If she becomes too upset, she could very well lose the babies. Doc may be able to give her something to calm her, should it be necessary.”

  “You know drugs do not work on Jasani, Saige,” Garen said.

  “Yes, I know,” Saige replied. “But I also know Doc. If anyone can help her keep those babies, it’s Doc. But he can’t do anything if he isn’t here.”

  “I will find him,” Val said, then disappeared as Trey had.

  “I will be there as well,” Saige said. “Lariah will need all of the support possible.”

  “We thank you, Arima Lobo,” Garen said with a bow. “We will let you know when Lady Anne arrives. We will tell Lariah shortly after that. I do not wish to keep this news from her any longer than necessary.”

  Garen disappeared as his brothers had before him, leaving tears in his wake.

  Chapter 52

  Earth, Phoenix II

  Hope kissed Mattlan gently on the forehead, careful not to wake him, and left the nursery. For the past three days she had been inside all day long, and she needed some fresh air. As she took off the sterile gown, gloves, cap and mask that everyone who entered the intensive care nursery was required to wear, she considered going to the Captured Equipment Laboratory to speak with the Director about Harlan.

  Jackson had told her that morning over breakfast that they were going to be working with the Director and a team of engineers, ordinance specialists and other experts on the ground-car, and other items taken from the compound. He’d even given her directions from the hospital to the Captured Equipment Laboratory in case she needed them for anything, or just wanted to visit.

  She put the sterile gown in the disposal unit and walked down the hall toward the elevator, wondering if the Director would get angry if she just showed up unannounced. On the one hand, she felt she had a right to ask the questions she wanted to ask about Harlan. On the other hand, she didn’t want to interrupt when she knew that they were all working.

  She shook her head at herself. Why couldn’t she seem to make her mind up about anything any more? she wondered.

  She stepped into the elevator as she turned the problem over in her mind, and reached out to press the button for the lobby. She saw herself reflected in the polished metal doors, and froze at the sight.

  She was standing with her head bowed, her shoulders hunched, and until she’d reached for the elevator button, she knew she’d had her arms crossed in front of herself. What the hell? she thought in surprise. When did I become a shrinking violet? She reached out and pushed the Hold button to stop the elevator, and stared at herself again.

  She deliberately stood up straight, dropped her arms to her sides and raised her chin. She realized that the past week had taken a toll on her; the kidnapping, the trek through the desert, Karma’s accident, Ellicia, Harlan, the babies, the Bearens. There were a lot of reasons for her to feel weighted down, so she wasn’t going to beat herself up for it. But it was time to remember who and what she was. She was a strong woman, with a good head on her shoulders, and more than enough determination to make her Greek ancestors proud.

  She opened the elevator doors and stepped out into the hall, quickly found the stairwell door and pulled it open. She felt the need for a little exercise to get her energy up after days of sitting with the babies. She jogged down the stairs, enjoying the feel of her muscles stretching and warming up as she moved. By the time she reached the lobby she was a little breathless, but she felt great.

  She crossed the lobby and stepped outside into the sunshine, taking a long, deep breath of fresh air. She cut across the lawn to the sidewalk, pausing when her vox began beeping. She struggled to get the vox out of her pocket but it was small and difficult to grasp. By the time she actually got a hold of it, the vox had stopped beeping. She put it to her ear and requested a return call, knowing that it had to be Grace.

  “Hey you, how come you didn’t answer my call?” Grace asked.

  “Because I couldn’t get the vox out of my pocket,” Hope replied. “How’s your sister?”

  “She’s okay,” Grace said. “She has a few emotional issues and needs attention sometimes. I’m planning to come back tomorrow.”

  “You sure?” Hope asked. “I really would love to have you back, but I don’t want you to rush if you’re needed there.”

  “Finding Aisling is more important than my little sister being needy right now,” Grace said. “My cousin is here, and she’s promised to stay with Sissy for a few days and keep an eye on her, so she’ll be fine. Do you want me back?”

  “Absolutely,” Hope replied. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” Grace said. “Fu
nny how we’ve only known each other for a few days, but honestly, I feel closer to you than I do to people I’ve known for years.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Hope said thoughtfully. “Let me know what time your plane will get here and I’ll meet you on the airfield.”

  “You got it,” Grace replied. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Take care, Grace,” Hope said. She tapped the vox off and continued walking, thinking about what Grace had said. Why was it that she accepted her quick, solid friendship with Grace without hesitation, but she doubted that such quick feelings for the Bearens could be real?

  Following the directions that Jackson had given her earlier, she crossed the base to the laboratory where the Bearens, the Director, the ground-car and all of the items they had taken from the compound were being stored and examined. There were two guards barring the entrance, but as soon as she gave her name, and they checked her ID with a portable scanner, they stepped aside and opened the door for her.

  The room she found herself in looked more like a spacecraft check-out bay than a laboratory. The floors, walls and ceiling were all spotlessly white, and there were white counters and tables all around the room. There were well over a dozen people bustling here and there, all of them dressed in white jumpsuits. The only exceptions were the Director, who stood at a high counter against one wall, and the Bearens, who stood opposite him. They were obviously discussing something important, and Hope hesitated. Being confident was one thing. Blatant rudeness was another.

  The Director looked up when she hesitated and waved her over. With that invitation, she crossed the room to stand beside him.

  “Hello, Miss Strigida,” the Director said. “How are you today?”

  “Hello, Director,” Hope replied. “I’m still worried about Aisling, but otherwise I’m good.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” the Director said. “Jackson mentioned that you might want to talk to me today.”

  “Actually, I want to make a deal with you,” Hope said, turning to eye the ground-car which was parked nearby. There was a rope barrier set up all the way around it and nobody was going near it.

  “A deal?” the Director asked. “What kind of deal?”

  “The kind where I give you something you want, and you give me something I want,” Hope replied.

  “What is it that you want?”

  “I want to know what happened to my cousin,” Hope replied.

  “Miss Strigida, you do not have to give me anything for that information,” the Director said gently. “I will tell you what you wish to know.”

  “No, you will tell me a sanitized version of what I wish to know,” Hope corrected, trying her hardest not to sound bitter or accusatory. “I understand that, as an ordinary citizen, I can only be told certain things, and not others.”

  The Director blinked, but did not otherwise respond. Hope understood that she had hit the mark.

  “If we make this deal, you won’t have a problem telling me all about Harlan’s death,” Hope continued. “He was the only family I had left, Director. I must know what happened to him. I must understand it. The reason for it, why it happened.”

  “What is it that you have to deal with?” the Director asked.

  “I know that you had no way of contacting me after Harlan died,” Hope said instead of answering the Director’s question. “In fact, I know that in Harlan’s Will, he stated that he had one cousin, a woman, of my description and age, who would come forth and give you pertinent facts about him. When I did that, you were directed to release to me his Will, and his personal effects.”

  “Yes, that is all true,” the Director said.

  “You must be curious as to why Harlan didn’t just give you my name and address.”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s because I didn’t want to be forced into working for the Directorate,” Hope said.

  “Ahh,” the Director said softly. “And what is your psychic talent, Miss Strigida?”

  “Please, call me Hope.”

  “Hope,” the Director said with a polite nod.

  “I can read objects,” Hope said.

  “Reading objects can be a very iffy talent,” the Director said, suddenly enjoying this conversation far more than he would have thought possible. There was something about this young woman that he liked and admired very much. “Would you like to tell me a bit more about how your talent works?”

  “Better yet, how about I show you?” Hope asked.

  “All right, let’s see what you can do,” the Director said. He thought for a moment, then slipped his wrist watch off and handed it to her. Hope took it from him with a confident smile. She laid the watch in the palm of her hand and closed her eyes for a moment. Less than a minute later she opened her eyes and handed the watch back to the Director.

  “This was given to you by Ellicia, for Christmas, three years ago,” she said, her smile gone, her manner more subdued. It had been a very special gift.

  “Very good,” the Director said as he put the watch back on. “Do you read the history or the emotional attachment?”

  “In this case, the emotional attachment,” Hope replied.

  “In this case?” the Director asked, intrigued.

  “I read the most salient facts of an object,” she explained. “If there is a very strong emotion attached to it, I get that. If there is an event that it played an important role in, a murder, death, accident, birth, I’ll get that. If there are none of those things, I can get the object’s origin.”

  The Director was stunned. This was the most flexible, and potentially the most powerful, psychic gift he had come across in a very long time. If she could really do what she said.

  He reached into his pocket and removed a personalized writing stylus. It was made by a very famous designer, and was quite expensive. He handed it to Hope, who took it without hesitation. She held it in her hand, eyes closed for a few moments. She opened her eyes and grinned.

  “Nice try,” she said. “There is nothing connected to this. It’s something you recently purchased, made by hand on Sheara 3.”

  The Director grinned. “Excellent,” he said. “I can understand why you would be worried about the Directorate,” he said. “We most certainly would want your gifts on our side. But I promise you, we do not force people to work for us.” He smiled again. “Although, I would not be adverse to bribery.”

  Hope laughed. She liked this man, which surprised her.

  “What is it that you want to do in exchange for the full story concerning your cousin?” the Director asked. He was tempted to just tell her what she wanted to know, but he was curious.

  “I thought it might be helpful if I tried to get some impressions from the ground-car,” Hope said, confirming his guess. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find the Brethren compound, but it’s possible.

  “Hope, might I ask that you do something else?” Jackson asked, barely containing his excitement.

  “Sure,” Hope replied.

  “We know, or at least, we believe, that Blind Sight is a Xanti product,” he said. “But no one knows where the Xanti home world is.”

  “I will certainly give it a shot,” Hope said, knowing what he was going to ask.

  “The problem is we don’t want to touch the Blind Sight until we learn more about it,” Jackson said. “It’s too damn easy to set off a self-destruct in those things.”

  “Didn’t you say there was one on the compound?” Hope asked.

  “Yes,” Jackson said with a grin. “I didn’t think of that as it’s no longer operative.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me,” Hope said with a shrug. “I think it would be best for me to try with a component rather than the entire unit, though. Something you are certain was made by the Xanti. If it’s a component, there is less likelihood of influence by emotional impressions or events.”

  “Where do you want to start on the ground-car?” the Director asked.

  “The seats,” Hope replied at once.
“Because of the accident, and the deaths of two of the ground-car’s occupants, I’m pretty sure there’s going to be a strong emotional impression there.”

  Jackson led Hope to the ground-car, moving the rope aside for her and opening the passenger side front door where he knew one man had died.

  “I ask only that you not touch the electronics panel,” he said, pointing at the Blind Sight.”

  Hope nodded. She knelt down on the floor, placed her hands on the seat and closed her eyes.

  It didn’t take long for her to get impressions, but it did take a few minutes for her to sort them out and understand what she was getting. She opened her eyes and looked at the electronics panel, then down to where the power outlet was, set into the dash in front of the passenger seat. She kept looking, bending down low to look up beneath the front dash panel, and down on the floor until she spotted what she was looking for. Satisfied, she moved back and stood up.

  “The man in this seat was highly stressed, confused, and afraid,” she said. “Someone kept telling him to plug something in, then unplug it, then plug it in again. He was very afraid that he was going to plug in the wrong thing, or unplug the wrong thing, and in fact he did make that mistake several times. He thought he was going to be killed for it, so he became even more nervous. In the end, he unplugged the wrong thing again, which caused the ground-car to shoot forward. There was lot of confusion and yelling, and then nothing.”

  Jackson listened carefully to Hope, but he didn’t really understand what she was saying. Hope sensed his confusion.

  “Look,” she said, pointing at the floor of the ground-car. “There is a cable lying up there, in the crease between the console and the carpet. It’s a power cable.”

  “Are you saying they turned the Blind Sight off and on by plugging it in and unplugging it?” Jackson asked, stunned by this bit of information.

  “Yes,” Hope replied. “There was confusion because they had an infra-red scanner they were using to search for us, and both of the cables were plugged into the same place. This man unplugged the wrong one, which caused the accident.”