Mystic

by Cheryl Brooks

  Or perhaps it wasn’t chaos at all. Perhaps it only seemed that way because of the horrible things that happened too often to be tolerated. Did people have to be ruthless and unscrupulous to rise to power? Whatever happened to good ol’ human decency? Compassion? Kindness? Charity? Tolerance? Forgiveness?

  Those who had sent her to Ecos in the hope of destroying her, Raj, and the entire population of an unsuspecting world possessed none of those traits.

  “Harder,” she urged. “You aren’t the only one who has seen things they wish they could forget.”

  “In this way, we help one another,” Aidan said. “Hold on. I’m coming.”

  She almost laughed. Did he mean what she thought he meant?

  His breath caught, and his purring ceased. With a feral cry, he arched his back, and his head snapped up, tossing his golden mane over his shoulders like a raging stallion. His snard filled her, its creamy texture allowing greater penetration than ever before. How could this moment be so different from the first time they made love? Had he gained that much skill, or was it simply because he’d dropped his guard completely?

  She couldn’t know for sure, but even the snard effect seemed enhanced. Heat flowed from her lower back, seeming to trace the paths of her blood vessels all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her eyes were open, but she didn’t see him. She saw the deep-green jungles and rocky mountaintops of Ecos, but what was even more significant, she saw its people happy and thriving as they had been when she and Raj first landed there. The image remained even when she closed her eyes.

  How could that be? Had Aidan somehow shown her a vision of that planet’s doomed people before the plague? Or was this the aftermath of a massive intervention to save their species?

  And why in the world was she seeing it now?

  Carried aloft on a gentle cloud of euphoria, the vision dissipated, becoming the field of stars and their ship cruising through them, never close enough to see anything of the planets or any people who might live on them.

  Her mind cleared, focusing on yet another clue she should’ve spotted long ago. Along with indigenous intelligent life-forms, Rhylos had no native primates whatsoever. The plague had apparently killed them along with the cave-dwelling beings that had drawn pictures on the wall of the condors’ cave.

  The truth was so obvious now. She didn’t know whether there were any monkeys or gorillas on Terra Minor, but that Rhylos didn’t have a single, solitary native primate species was common knowledge. Had anyone ever questioned that lack?

  Somehow, she doubted it, just as she doubted any archaeological digs had ever been proposed or approved. Humans had always been fascinated by their own history, even though much of it was bloody and shameful. Studying the evolutionary processes on a world with no humanoid species had probably been deemed unnecessary and, more important, unprofitable.

  Had anyone ever proposed such a study? And if so, what reasons were given for denying the funds? Because they surely would’ve been denied. No one in power would ever want the truth to be uncovered.

  As her mind drifted back toward the present and the reality that was Aidan Banadänsk, she couldn’t help but wonder. Had this been a vision of some sort? Or was what she’d seen simply a moment of postorgasmic clarity?

  Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him, noting that he hadn’t collapsed on top of her. Nor had he rolled away. If anything, he seemed frozen in place, an expression of awe etched upon his handsome feline features.

  “Aidan, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he whispered. “But we have three children now.” He paused, blinking rapidly as though searching his thoughts for more information. “One girl and two boys.”

  For the moment, Sula’s vision was forgotten. “How can you possibly know that?”

  He looked down at her and smiled. “I can see their futures.”

  * * *

  Not only could Aidan see their children’s births and infancy, but a rapid-fire string of images whipped through his mind’s eye, predicting—or was it documenting?—their growth and development into adulthood and beyond.

  To be perfectly honest, he hoped he would forget everything he’d seen by the time those children were born. Watching lives unfold in a predicted manner would lose a large measure of the joy parents should feel as their offspring reached various milestones, along with the sadness when pitfalls were encountered. No one’s life was so charmed that they never encountered a single setback. Besides, if it was all joyous, how could anyone understand the precious nature of happiness? Aidan had known a great deal of sorrow, and while a large measure of it was not his own, the feeling was still as real as if he’d experienced those painful episodes himself. Coming at the moment of conception, perhaps this was the one time he would ever envision such things. Again, he hoped that would be true. Knowing everything about a child’s life long before they did was wrong on so many levels.

  “Are they happy? You can at least tell me that.” Sula’s anxious expression wouldn’t allow him to deny her completely.

  “Yes, they’re happy. But that’s all I’m going to say. And I’m not going to tell them what I’ve seen, either.”

  She nodded slowly. “I’m okay with that. Knowing their future would either have them anticipating the good times or dreading the bad. Everyone needs a few surprises—even a child’s parents.”

  “I’m glad you agree.” If she didn’t, he could definitely see trouble ahead—whether he was a Zetithian-Mordrial mystic or not.

  “What about you? You’ll know everything even before it happens.”

  He grinned. “That’s why I’m going to try very hard to forget what I’ve seen. The images ran by so fast, I didn’t catch most of it anyway.” She hadn’t said whether she was happy herself. Although come to think of it, neither had he. “What about you? Are you happy?”

  “Of course I am,” she replied, somewhat indignantly, he thought. “I just never expected to know immediately, much less that the father of my children would know I was pregnant even before I did.”

  “I probably could’ve kept quiet, but I would never want to be accused of keeping secrets from you.” After a moment’s reflection, he deemed it best to amend that a tad. “Secrets that involve you, anyway. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about all of them.”

  “You know, sometimes it helps to tell someone else about the things that bother you. Sharing the burden makes it easier to tolerate.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Speaking of burdens, I should get up before I squash you.” A quick glance around their quarters as he carefully withdrew and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees proved he hadn’t exactly done a stellar job of bed-making. Sula was lying across both mattresses, but the gap between the two was so wide, she could’ve easily slipped through it. Plus, the mattress from the upper bunk had somehow managed to lose its sheet. “So…do you want to stay on the floor or put the mattresses back where they belong?”

  “As long as I’m with you, I’m okay pretty much anywhere,” she replied. “The floor is fine. We’ll have more head room, and we won’t have as far to fall if one of us rolls off the edge.”

  “That was one advantage to the bunks. At least I knew you wouldn’t end up on the floor.”

  “True, but I don’t want you falling, either. You’re my mate now—and the father of our children. I have a duty to protect you.”

  Recalling that Sula had lived off the land for nearly a year armed only with a bullwhip and a pulse pistol, had escaped from a planet where everyone else died of a dreaded disease, and managed to elude what was presumably a paid assassin, he knew she could probably take care of herself and anyone else she loved.

  “Nobody better mess with our kids,” he said with a low whistle. “From what I hear, their mom’s a real tiger.”

  * * *

  Sula was glad she was already sitting at the
dinner table when Curly delivered the news that they would be landing on Ursa Prime in his ship rather than rendezvousing with another vessel.

  “I thought we decided that was a bad idea,” she said, aghast at the thought of arriving in a ship the villains were at least keeping an eye out for, if not actually tracking.

  Curly winced as though she’d slapped him. “Remember when you sent out the request for a ride to begin with? There was a reason no one but me replied. The others are so far out of range, we’d have to wait a couple of months before we could rendezvous with them. I don’t know about you, but I have better things to do, packages to deliver, and lots of places I’d much rather be.”

  “Larry certainly would’ve been helpful.” Aidan turned toward Val. “But you can handle most of the technical stuff. Right?”

  “I believe so,” Val replied.

  Sula would’ve felt better had he immediately claimed to have that capability and more. However, given his usual stoic demeanor, this was probably as enthusiastic as he ever got.

  “I can do that also,” Jetoc said. “My skills aren’t limited to navigation. I am well-versed in the techniques required to tap into communication relays and such.”

  Sula did a slight double take when the Drell spoke. Throughout their journey, Jetoc had been relatively quiet, and he had yet to display any of the inherent rudeness of his kind. If he could tap into the communication networks and keep a civil tongue in his head, Curly had really lucked out in his choice of navigators.

  “Sounds good,” Aidan said. “If we can get even a hint of a confession, it needs to be blasted all over the quadrant. Preferably live.”

  “That can be arranged,” Jetoc said.

  Val’s wings rose slightly, but he merely folded his arms and nodded his agreement.

  “If we make it that far.” At this stage of the game, Sula practically had to sit on her hands to keep from biting her nails. Two days out from Ursa Prime, and they had yet to agree on a definite plan. “I just wish there was some way to alter the ship’s signature so they don’t know it’s us. I’d hate to think we were walking into a trap.” She glanced at Aidan, somehow hoping for reassurance, if not a miraculous promise that all would be well.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Aidan began. “Walking into a trap might not be a bad thing, provided we have sufficient backup. If they’re convinced they have the upper hand, the bad guys might get careless. They might even enjoy the opportunity to gloat.”

  Sula peered at him with suspicion. “You’ve seen something, haven’t you?”

  “Nothing specific,” he said. “It’s more of a hunch than a vision.”

  “A hunch?” Curly echoed. “You? Seriously? What good is a Mordrial fortune-teller if the best you can come up with is a hunch?”

  Aidan rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest, Curly. This is going to work. Trust me.”

  Curly drew in a breath as though about to retort but pressed his lips together instead. The twitching muscles in his jaw demonstrated how much it cost him to keep quiet. He was, after all, risking his ship and his life.

  As it happened, he didn’t have to say anything. Jetoc said it for him. “I believe the captain doesn’t care for the idea of allowing his ship to be captured or destroyed.”

  “I never said we were going to fly into a trap,” Aidan said, clearly unperturbed. “We’ll be walking into it. They’ll let us land, if for no other reason than to be sure their suspicions are correct. After all, letting us come to them is far easier than chasing after us. They’ve already tried that and failed.” He turned to Sula. “Your Zetithian disguise should be enough to fool them at first, and without those nanobots, you won’t be traceable. By the time they realize who you really are, we’ll have already gotten them to show their hand, and it’ll be too late to do anything about it.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” Sula demanded. To be honest, she didn’t follow his logic at all. Sure, she might look like a Zetithian to a stranger, but Professor Dalb knew her well enough to see through the disguise, and there were others on the staff who knew her better than he did.

  “We’ve already made the appointment and told them what we have in mind. I believe they’ll wait until they have the credits I’m offering for the research grant before they do anything rash.”

  That appointment was another thing Sula had misgivings about. Sure, an offer of grant money would get their foot in the door, but it also gave the university people time to prepare their own defensive strategy.

  Abuti giggled. “This is perfect! They think we don’t know they know we’re coming, and we already know they do. They don’t know how big our gang is, either.”

  Sula turned a bleak gaze on the Norludian girl. “Our gang is nowhere near as big as theirs.” She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she was getting cold feet. When hers was the only life at risk, she could be as fearless as anyone. She’d already cheated death a number of times. But she had babies to protect now. Motherhood in any stage made a huge difference.

  “The size of our gang doesn’t matter as long as they don’t know exactly how many of us there are.” Aidan aimed a pointed glance at Jetoc. “And there’s at least one of us they’ve never seen. Nor do they know about that cave on Rhylos—or who we’ve shared that information with. We’ve got several aces up our sleeves. We just have to decide when to play them.”

  Chapter 29

  When the Interstellar Express landed at the Ursa Prime spaceport, despite long hours of sifting through data, they had found nothing to substantiate their suspicions. As a result, Sula walked down the gangplank with a significant amount of trepidation.

  Nothing had changed in the past year. The control tower still shone with imposing brilliance, and the main concourse was filled with self-important beings from all over the galaxy, not one of whom gave their ragtag band a second look, unless it was to peer down their respective noses.

  The reason Ursa Prime had been adopted as the planet’s name was readily apparent to any observer. Ursa meaning bear, and prime meaning, well…prime. Prime bear. Although prima donna might’ve been more accurate. Clearly, the planet’s—and subsequently, the university’s—reputation had gone to its collective head. Small wonder that some of those affiliated with such an august institution felt that they had every right to play God, particularly a professor descended from the university’s founder.

  Ilya Zolo had certainly attempted to play God when he’d created the Avian clones. Poor Val. To owe his existence to such a heartless monster was enough to mess with anyone’s mind. The surprising thing was that he was able to function at all.

  Aidan had his own share of demons, which, according to Val, Sula had helped him come to terms with, at least to the point of allowing him to be happier than he’d been in the past. He had certainly brought joy back into her life. Joy had been traded for despair on Ecos, only to be replaced with grim determination during her journey to Rhylos. Now that the end was in sight, she knew that exposing any atrocities committed by the university heads would not be the best of her life’s work. Granted, the other aspects of her life might not have as many far-reaching effects, but promoting Aidan’s happiness and the happiness of their children were worthy endeavors in themselves.

  Val and Jetoc remained aboard the ship to handle the communications aspects of the plan. Curly volunteered to be Sula’s bodyguard, and Giklor came along as their resident healer and spiritual leader. Abuti and Qinta simply refused to be left behind. Curly had equipped everyone with Darconian comstones, which was something Sula had only heard about. The stones only worked over a relatively short range, but all you had to do was tap the stone and call out the name of another person carrying a stone. Their response forged the link, which would remain open until the stone was tapped again, terminating the link. Like several other varieties of Darconian stones, no one knew how they worked, but they had the beauty of appea
ring to be a piece of jewelry rather than a manufactured device.

  Sula was wearing her Zetithian disguise again. Putting on the slanted eyebrows, pointed ears, and fangs was easy enough. However, since Jeeves hadn’t given her any makeup to take with her, she’d left her skin tone unchanged. Without the nanobots, she couldn’t be tracked anyway. No longer needed as a decoy, Qinta hadn’t bothered with a disguise.

  They hadn’t gone far when Curly’s voice sounded in Aidan’s ear. “Hey, Aidan. Comstone working okay?”

  “Yeah,” Aidan replied. “I can hear you loud and clear.”

  “That’s good,” Curly said. “Because you’re being followed.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “The guy doesn’t appear to be armed, but looks can be deceiving.”

  Aidan tapped his comstone and said, “Val, what about you? Can you hear me?”

  “Not very well,” came the faint reply. “By the time you get inside the building, you’ll be out of range. We may have to go with Plan B.”

  “Understood.” Aidan tapped the stone and muttered, “You ladies get that? Implement Plan B.”

  “Acknowledged,” Abuti said cheerfully. “I always liked that plan better anyway.”

  Aidan rolled his eyes. “Of course you would, mainly because it’s riskier than Plan A.”

  “Which is why it’s Plan B,” Sula said. “I’m still not convinced it will work.”

  “Both plans have flaws,” Aidan admitted, “which is why we’re relying heavily on luck.”