Mystic

by Cheryl Brooks

  She nodded. “They’re just stuck on with little sticky pads. Jeeves gave me more of those and some adhesive remover. Where does he get all that stuff, anyway?”

  “The gods only know,” Aidan replied. “But he seems to be able to manufacture almost anything. We probably should’ve brought him along with us.” He frowned. “I wonder what happened to Val. He wasn’t that far behind us.”

  A loud rumble shook the ship, nearly knocking Aidan off his feet. Abuti landed on the floor in a jumble of skinny arms, legs, and flippers.

  Curly let out a growl. “What the bloody hell was that?”

  A strange, lilting voice sounded over the internal comsystem. “Captain Curly, we are taking heavy weapons fire. I have closed the hatch. May I suggest immediate liftoff?”

  “If those fuckers so much as scratch the paint,” Curly snarled, stalking toward the main passageway, “I’m gonna make them wish they’d never been born.”

  “Shall I return fire?”

  Curly stopped just short of the passageway entrance and took a deep breath, ostensibly to regain control of his temper. Twitching muscles in his cheek and neck belied the effort. “Yes, Laurel. But stun weapons only.”

  “Understood.”

  “Laurel?” Abuti’s attempt to rise from the floor was thwarted by another blast. “You have a woman on board?”

  “She’s the ship’s computer,” Curly replied. “Nice voice, huh?”

  “I suppose so.” This time, Abuti didn’t bother trying to stand. Instead, she crawled over to the nearest bulkhead and climbed the wall like a huge, four-legged spider. When the third blast hit, she was at least able to remain upright.

  “Captain Curly,” Laurel said gently, “we would appear to have acquired an ally—a tall man with long golden-brown hair and a pair of rather large wings is in the docking bay, firing on a group of unidentified hostiles.”

  “That has to be Val,” Aidan said. “We can’t just leave him out there.”

  Curly pulled his pulse pistol from its holster and tossed it to Aidan. “I’ll open the hatch while you cover him until he gets inside.”

  Aidan adjusted the pistol, which was set to kill, for a wide stun beam. “Let’s do it.”

  The two men ran to the hatch. “On the count of three,” Curly said. “One, two, three!”

  Aidan never saw who or what he was shooting at, but after firing twice, the attack stopped long enough for Val to come aboard in a flurry of feathers.

  “Welcome aboard, Val.” Curly closed the hatch and locked it. “Jetoc! Are we cleared for takeoff?”

  “Yes, Captain,” a rather gruff voice replied. “The atmospheric engines are already up to speed. The stardrive engines should be ready by the time they’re needed.”

  “Then get us the hell out of here. I’ll be there in two shakes.” Save for the masculine timbre of his voice, Curly sounded exactly like his mother, including his choice of expletives and archaic figures of speech. Not to mention the Nedwut pulse pistol she’d probably given him.

  That apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

  “Strap yourselves in,” Curly yelled as he dashed from the lounge. “This is gonna be a bumpy ride.”

  * * *

  They might have been the first visitors aboard Curly’s ship, but the row of seats outfitted with safety harnesses along the interior wall proved the Interstellar Express was equipped to handle at least six passengers. Sula was buckling herself into the nearest chair when another explosion shook the ship, loosening Abuti’s grip on the wall and sending her hurtling across the room to sprawl on one of the sofas.

  “Think I’ll stay here,” Abuti said. “It’s the softest thing I’ve landed on yet.”

  Giklor and Qinta came rushing into the lounge, both of them staggering as another blast rattled the ship. Qinta had taken off her wig but had only removed the makeup from half of her face, giving her a clown-like appearance. Neither of them seemed to notice the tall, extraordinarily handsome Avian who had just joined them. Sula, being the anthropologist in the group, couldn’t take her eyes off him, and her fascination had very little to do with his full lips, square jaw, and cleft chin.

  His enormous wings were the same golden brown as his wavy shoulder-length hair, but his eyes were his most striking feature. Crystalline blue and slightly larger and rounder than human eyes, they had no whites at all, and his huge round pupils reacted to light with all the dramatic effect of a hawk’s. He also appeared to be remarkably fit. Even after flying across the city and then engaging in a firefight, he was barely breathing hard. And because he wasn’t wearing a shirt—only the same kind of tight brown leggings that Aidan had been wearing when she first met him—the rise and fall of his broad chest was easily observed.

  Qinta finally spared a glance for the newcomer. “Hi, Val. Nice to see you again. Anyone know what’s going on?”

  Aidan snatched Abuti from the couch and planted her in the seat next to Sula’s. “We’re under attack. Get yourselves strapped in before someone else breaks a leg.”

  “As I have already demonstrated, I am quite capable of healing broken bones,” Giklor said, sounding rather indignant.

  “Even when it’s your own?” Aidan snapped.

  Without another word, Giklor sank into the end seat and began adjusting the harness.

  “Didn’t think so,” Aidan muttered. He turned to Sula. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Although I thought I was going to lose it there for a second. Never considered how funny ‘Captain Curly’ would sound, especially coming from a lovestruck computer.”

  He chuckled. “She did sound kinda smitten.” As though suddenly remembering his manners, he began introducing her to Val but was interrupted by yet another pulse blast. “Guess we’d better strap ourselves in first.”

  The liftoff was barely perceptible, but the way the ship shuddered as it took another hit proved they were airborne.

  “Yo, Aidan!” Curly’s voice rang out from a speaker somewhere above them. “Need you on the weapons console. I have a job for Val too.”

  “On our way.” He dropped a quick kiss on Sula’s forehead before he and Val took off running down the passageway.

  “What’s Val doing here?” Qinta asked.

  “Apparently, Onca thought we might need him,” Sula replied. “He was following us at one point. Then we lost him when we landed.”

  “Landed?” Qinta exclaimed. “You mean you were actually flying?”

  Abuti giggled. “It was so freakin’ cool. Aidan cloaked the speeder and used the wind to lift us up to get away from the guy who was chasing us. It was super exciting. You should’ve been there.”

  “We had a little excitement of our own,” Qinta said. “Curly made some crazy moves while trying to lose the speeder that was following us. After a while, they sort of seemed to give up. Apparently, no one fell for my disguise.”

  “Mine, either,” Sula said. “If Aidan hadn’t done what he did, I doubt we’d have made it to the ship.” She gritted her teeth, pleased to discover that her fangs didn’t interfere. “Damned nanobots.”

  “I thought the scan didn’t show any bots,” Qinta said.

  “Our adversaries have tapped into your aura,” Giklor intoned. “Such things are traceable, you know.”

  “Yeah, right,” Abuti said. “I’m with you, Sula. My money is on nanobots.”

  Sula nodded. “Now all we have to do is figure out how to get rid of them.”

  * * *

  “Need you to work some of your old magic, buddy,” Curly said as Aidan and Val arrived on the bridge. “I thought it was just ground fire, but we’ve got a ship taking potshots at us now.” With a grimace, he added, “Your girlfriend is really hot, and I don’t mean that in the sense of how cute she is.”

  “I know,” Aidan said. “I’m beginning to wonder why they didn’t just blow up my h
ouse with all of us in it.”

  Curly’s fingers flew over the controls as the ship veered to port and back again. “That would’ve been more effective. Right now, these guys are only annoying the crap out of me. My ship can take the pounding, but I’m guessing—hoping—theirs can’t.”

  Aidan slid into the gunner’s seat and buckled the safety belt. “I’ll target their weapons first, then go for the engines once we’re outside the atmosphere.”

  “Yeah. Don’t want to hurt anyone except the bad guys, but we sure as hell don’t want them on our six all the way to Ursa Prime.”

  “No shit.” Aidan scanned the targeting screen and shifted his mind ahead by roughly five seconds. That advance had always worked like a charm in the past, but he soon discovered that Curly’s evasive maneuvers had improved since they’d last flown together. Their flight pattern was so erratic, his first three shots missed. After another five-second leap, he began doing some damage.

  “What do you need me to do?” Val asked.

  “Man the comstation and see if you can block their transmissions or jam them or something,” Curly replied. “Anything you can think of.”

  “Understood.” Val perched at the communications console with his wings draped over the back of the chair.

  “We’ve picked up another ship.” Aidan hadn’t actually spotted it yet, but he knew it would be there soon.

  “What? Where?” Curly demanded.

  “One at three o’clock and another coming up on our six.” Aidan fired again. The pulse cannon on the port side of the ship at three o’clock fizzled and died.

  “We are approaching the outer limits of the atmosphere,” Jetoc reported. “The stardrive engines are online.”

  Aidan had almost forgotten about the Drell. A glance in the direction of the navigation console revealed a pile of hair in the shape of a miniature haystack sitting in the chair.

  “Great,” Curly said. “Course laid in to Ursa Prime?”

  “Aye, Captain,” the haystack replied. “Awaiting your command.”

  Aidan fired a pulse blast that sent their newest opponent spiraling off toward the Rhylosian Sea.

  Raising his right hand, Curly swept it forward and down. “Engage.”

  Chapter 20

  “They’ll never catch us now,” Curly crowed as the points of starlight on the main viewscreen stretched into light trails.

  “I disagree,” said Val. “We are transmitting a signal. Weak but detectable at close range. If our adversaries have any knowledge of our destination, they could proceed there and resume tracking us when we arrive.”

  Groaning, Curly slumped over the pilot’s console. “Oh, you have got to be shitting me.”

  Aidan had suspected as much. “Let me guess…nanobots?”

  “I believe so,” Val replied. “Once I isolate the source—”

  “I can tell you exactly where the source is,” Aidan interjected. “Sula’s been walking around with the little critters swimming in her bloodstream for at least a year, maybe longer. The medscanner at the orphanage didn’t show anything, but I’m sure they’re there.”

  A haughty arch of his golden brow demonstrated Val’s opinion of the equipment they’d used. “That scanner is a relic, good for nothing beyond diagnosing children’s illnesses.”

  “I’m with you on that score,” Aidan said. “Nice to have our theory confirmed, though. Any way to get rid of them?”

  Val nodded. “I should be able to get them to congregate in one spot so they can be removed. Not an entirely painless procedure, but I’m sure Sula will be pleased to eliminate them.”

  “It’ll make it easier to sneak up on the bad guys too,” Curly pointed out. “Or we might be able to use them as a decoy that will actually work this time.”

  “We will have to find a medium to store them in,” Val said. “Nanobots don’t survive long when removed from their host, and they have a limited lifespan. Given the length of time you say she’s had them, these should already be dead.”

  “Must have a rogue element to them,” Aidan suggested. “Sula wasn’t bothered the whole time she was in the mountains but started being followed anytime she was in Damenk. Any ideas why that might be?”

  Val replied with a lift of his wings, his standard I-don’t-know gesture. “Nanobot technology is constantly evolving. Keeping up with the newest advances is a full-time job. I prefer to focus on communication and data collection.”

  Aidan studied the Avian’s impassive face for a long moment. “Speaking of communication, how come you didn’t tell us you were coming?”

  “I should have thought that was perfectly obvious,” Val replied. “Anyone carrying a comlink can be tracked, and messages are easily intercepted. I prefer to remain invisible. Onca contacted me after you left the orphanage.” The brow went up again. “Considering the amount of firepower at the spaceport, I suspect your communications were being monitored.”

  “That’s possible,” Curly conceded. “They sure seemed to know where we were headed—and which speeder was carrying the real Sula.” He glared at Aidan. “How did you keep from being caught?”

  Aidan blew out a heavy sigh. “We flew.”

  Curly’s eyes narrowed. “In Onca’s speeder? How?” A moment later, the light dawned in his eyes. “You can control the wind, can’t you?” With Aidan’s nod, he exclaimed, “Dammit, I knew you had to have some Mordrial powers. What else can you do?”

  “It’s…complicated.” Aidan’s powers were difficult to explain, partly because he didn’t completely understand them himself.

  Curly leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Try me.”

  His targeting ability was the simplest to convey. “I can project my mind into the future. Not very far—only a few seconds.”

  “That explains why you’re so good at hitting moving targets.” Curly’s stern gaze never wavered. “Anything else?”

  The next part was even tougher to reveal. “I have visions of the future.”

  “So? All Zetithians have visions.”

  “Mine are different. Whenever I meet someone—especially if we shake hands—I see significant events in their future. Sometimes their deaths.”

  “Bummer,” Jetoc muttered.

  “Tell me about it,” Aidan said. “In some cases, it’s satisfying to see someone get their just deserts. Other times, it’s horrifying.”

  Curly’s expression finally softened. “You’ve had to deal with all that without ever telling anyone. Am I right?”

  Aidan nodded. “I’ve seen things that would give anybody nightmares. And you’re right, I don’t tell anyone. It seems unfair that some people should know their futures while others remain in the dark. Plus, I’d rather no one came to me demanding to know how their lives or specific events will turn out. Like I told Abuti a while ago, timelines are fragile. Just knowing what’s supposed to happen can change the outcome.”

  “That explains a lot,” Curly said. “Especially why you’re so hesitant to shake hands with people. I always thought you just didn’t like being touched or had some sort of germ phobia. I’ve seen the look on your face when you’ve been introduced to some of Mom’s shadier business contacts.” His eyes widened as perhaps the most relevant question finally occurred to him. “What about people you’ve known forever?”

  “I mostly pick up little things, and it doesn’t happen very often, almost as though being around someone for extended periods makes me immune to any visions about them. Kids are different. Sometimes I know what they’re going to do even before they do.” He shrugged. “I only intervene when their safety is at risk. Otherwise, I let them learn from their mistakes.”

  Curly glanced at Val. “You knew all this, didn’t you?”

  “Only his control of the wind.” A frown so brief Aidan might have imagined it furrowed Val’s brow. “I can only be thankful your visions
don’t include glimpses of the past. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to tolerate being in the same room with me.”

  “I doubt that,” Aidan said. “You’ve always been a good friend.”

  “What I have seen and endured is the issue rather than my ability to be a friend.” Val’s gaze bored into him like a raptor zeroing in on its prey. “You’ve seen my future?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of futures,” Aidan said quietly. “Some are better than others. Yours is one of them. More than that, I can’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Curly prompted.

  “Both,” Aidan replied. “To tell what I know would disrupt my future and the future of anyone whose life I’ve touched, which is why I’ve always kept quiet.” With a weary shrug, he added, “I can’t explain how I know this. I just do.” He drew in a ragged breath as exhaustion threatened to sap the remaining strength from his body. “Right now, I’m so tired I can’t even think.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Curly said. “I don’t see how you can deal with what you know without going mad.”

  “I volunteer at the orphanage. Cooking helps a lot, and when the future weighs heavily on me, I fly.” Smiling, he added, “Val has given me some pointers on that. I have a pair of wings and use updrafts to get off the ground—although after flying that speeder, I have some ideas for improving my technique.”

  Curly seemed to take this in with very little reaction, which wasn’t surprising given the Mordrial blood in the people he’d grown up with. “What about Sula? Have you seen her future?”

  Aidan shook his head. “I can’t read her. Being with her soothes my soul in ways I never imagined. It may be selfish, but I believe that in saving her, I will also save myself.”

  “Nothing selfish about that,” Curly said. “Sounds pretty normal for a mated pair.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  * * *

  Val’s arrival took up the last free bed that would’ve given Sula the chance to have a cabin to herself. Once the Avian man had volunteered to bunk with Giklor, Aidan didn’t have any excuse to sleep anywhere else, unless he opted for a sofa in the lounge or shared with Jetoc. Granted, Jetoc seemed cleaner than most Drells, but that didn’t mean Aidan had any desire to room with him.