Desire Disguised

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Desire Disguised Page 7

by Lynn Rae


  He checked the door display and was surprised to see the Belascos waiting there. Cara faced her brother and listened intently to whatever he was saying. He opened the door, and she turned to face him, the tender smile she’d given her brother flickering away to something much more tentative when she saw him. They were both carrying covered containers and were in sleepwear. Mat’s must have been in his recovered luggage, because no one on Gamaliel would have turned over something so eye-catching to the community chest. The garments were covered with holographic cartoon characters, and the figures appeared to move randomly all over the garment. Ben had never seen anything like it. Cara was bundled up in a grey robe which allowed only the hems and cuffs of her pale green sleepwear to show. She’d braided her russet hair into a tail that curved over her shoulder.

  “We’re sorry to disturb you so late, but we wanted to bring you something as a thank you.” Cara extended her container toward him, and he took it automatically. The bottom was warm against his fingertips.

  “It’s tandoori tofu and vegetable khorma. Cara invented it,” Mat piped up as he handed his over. “I made these cookies for you. Cara supervised so they’re still pretty good.” The boy glowed with pride at his handwork, and Ben thanked them both, taken aback by their gesture.

  “How did you know I was home?”

  “I did that too. Cara was checking the hall monitor constantly and it bothered me so much I set up a warning motion routine.”

  Ben was impressed by his inventiveness. “Nice work. Perimeter security and cookies all in one evening. Did you ever think about safety services when you’re old enough for the academy?” He’d thrown out the suggestion automatically, but Mat’s open expression stilled to watchfulness. Cara slipped an arm around his multicolored shoulder.

  “No. I won’t be doing that,” the boy answered and glanced at the floor. Ben knew he’d said something wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. Cara glanced from her brother to briefly meet Ben’s eyes and then focused on the containers he’d forgotten he was holding.

  “It’s late. We should go. School in the morning, right?” She gave her brother a quick squeeze and steered him toward their door across the corridor.

  “Cara, wait.” Ben didn’t know what he wanted to say, but Cara stopped and waved her brother to go on into their room, his vivid pajamas whirling with color and pattern. How did he fall asleep with all that glowing in the dark? His sister turned around and watched him, a meter and half away but even further judging by the coolness in her gaze.

  “I said something wrong just then. About the academy.”

  She nodded once and remained silent. Then it hit him. They were in hiding. There was no way Mat would ever be able to attend such an institution. He wouldn’t have the academic credentials or even the proper citizenship pedigree to qualify. That meant Cara hadn’t been able to go either. Sore subject.

  “What would he want to study there, if he could?” Why had he asked that? He was just adding insult to injury now.

  “Biomechanical engineering. We study as much as we can, but there’s only so much he can learn without a lab, proper teachers, or the right equipment.” Cara took a deep breath and gave her head a firm shake as if she was telling herself something negative. Her braid slipped off her shoulder with the motion. “Goodnight, Chief.”

  So they were back to formalities again. Rather than keep talking and say something else that would make her more upset, Ben nodded once. She turned and went back to her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  As he closed his own door and carried the containers to his bare kitchen, Ben was again buzzing with curiosity about the Belascos. What exactly had their father done to have incurred such a lonely legacy for his children?

  “Time for bed.” Cara called out to Mat as he flung himself on the sofa. Her stomach clenched with nerves after their encounter with Ben. She’d been in a nervous flurry all evening as she watched for his arrival, debating with herself if they should disturb the man at all, if giving him food was appropriate, what his culinary preferences might be. She didn’t know much about him, so she’d packed up two servings. He might have a roommate or even a partner. She didn’t know. Her imagination whirled when she considered what he might find attractive. Probably someone with sophisticated taste and talented at hand-to-hand combat. He might take one look at her poor attempt at a new dish and toss it all into the disposal. He was probably a trained gourmand and was even now laughing uproariously at her offering. At least Mat’s cookies had turned out well.

  “Another hour?” Mat wheedled as he stared at the living room display from a prone position. His protests were automatic by this time of night. Cara had been doing some research and knew that once teenaged hormones hit, he’d start staying up later and be less cooperative, but for now, he still collapsed with exhaustion in the evening.

  “No, school in the morning. Didn’t you have that big project starting tomorrow?”

  At the reminder, Mat sat up and grinned like the cheerful little boy he used to be. “That’s right! Goodnight, Sis. Can I have one more cookie?”

  With a resigned wave she agreed, and he rushed to the kitchen to grab more than one cookie from the plate they’d left out before running down the hall to his room. Soloman’s cookies were sealed up in a box, and she wondered how she was going to get them to the young officer in the morning. He deserved thanks as well. Cara doubted giving him the treat would be even half as awkward as dealing with Ben had just been. What was it about the man that made her fumble and fail with every interaction?

  She paced to the window and peered at the dark sky. No movement, but she double checked the locks anyway. Worrying about security basics made her think of their incapacitated companion. Soren’s unresponsive condition remained the same. She’d visited him that afternoon, and the medtech told her all of his body processes were improving to the point he might wake in a few days. The thought of being able to ask their companion for advice had filled her with something close to hope. He’d recover, they’d arrange passage away from this planet, and they’d return to living in the shadows. It was what they did best. It was all they did.

  Chapter 5

  Ben had spent a restless night and felt particularly grumpy and groggy that morning. He blamed his shoulder strain for waking him up several times, but he knew it was also because he was unsettled about the Belascos. Cara specifically.

  He’d even relented on his self-imposed coffee ban and had allowed himself one mug when he entered the security break room. It smelled too good to resist. He wandered through the common area on his way to his own office and stopped and spoke to several officers coming on shift or heading home. Everything seemed peaceful enough as he took a seat behind his desk and surveyed the live-feed displays lining his walls. No tricarts crashed into each other on the main street as they had the day before, so that was an improvement. The cells contained three impaired adults sleeping off the previous evening’s celebrations. Ben knew he’d have to step up patrols in the evening, because the extractors were trickling into town to sell off their raw cortiglow to the brokers.

  The little epiphytes that produced the compound had a spike in productivity every six weeks or so, and this meant the population of Pearl swelled at about week seven as everyone rushed to town to sell the high concentrate fluid. Some would wait and come in when there was less demand and hope for a higher exchange rate, but Ben had his doubts the brokers allowed any extractor much profit no matter when they sold. In any event, the town was due for an influx of people with product to sell and consequently money to spend, which increased drug use, theft, and altercations. Time to review everyone’s schedule and double check the hygienic tissue supply.

  A glance at the lobby counter showed no one waiting in the chairs. Then, a familiar figure bustled up to the counter holding a small container very similar to what was now in his kitchen holding only a few remaining cookies. Cara Belasco spoke with the officer at reception and without thinking, Ben turned up the vo
lume on that feed and listened to her ask if Officer Soloman was on duty. While she waited for the officer to look up the roster, she shifted from foot to foot, and Ben decided to head in that direction. No sense in getting bogged down by minutia until the caffeine had a chance to work.

  By the time he arrived in the hallway leading to the lobby, Soloman just walked through the doors, radiating fitness and health in his patrol gear. He heard their voices mingle and slowed his pace. Was he really planning on interrupting them? The younger officer could certainly protect her from any random threat that might emerge in the safety building, and Ben should just leave him to it. Soloman was closer to her age and knew how to behave himself. Cara had probably never had a flirtation in her repressed life and deserved a little attention.

  Ben leaned his sore shoulder against the wall as penance for his overactive protective instincts and waited a few beats for them to decide if they were going to continue to speak. There was no movement, and his curiosity took over. As he entered the lobby, everyone turned to look at him; Soloman, the duty officer, and Cara. Both security officers greeted him while Cara tucked her arms across her chest and glanced at the door. He strained for an excuse for being there but was saved by the arrival of Myltin Tarl. The man bustled through the door, his thin frame vibrating with energy.

  “Chief Zashi, just the man I wanted to see!”

  Ben winced deep inside and put on his best bland face. As Myltin cornered him and informed him of some suspicious activity in the alley behind the new restaurant, Ben glanced over at Cara and Soloman. The younger man smiled at the woman, his container of cookies tucked under one arm as he gestured at the door. He was offering to escort her to whatever her next stop was, and Cara shook her head. After a few more denials, Soloman thanked her effusively for the gift and stepped back as she made her escape.

  Myltin had reached the climax of his tale of the mysteriously disappearing trash barrels, and Ben took a break from the riveting story to glance up at Cara as she passed through the outer doors. She looked back directly at him, and as their gazes met, Ben’s breath died in his throat. He wanted to chase after her and take her back to her rooms where she’d be safe. Or better yet, to his suite where she’d be even safer. Except not. Blast his sleep-deprived mind, because he wasn’t making sense even in his own head.

  Soloman waved goodbye and ducked back into security as Myltin gasped to a finish, breathing hard as he looked to Ben for praise or promises of an immediate raid on the unknown trash dodgers.

  “Right. I’ll have one of the feeds directed down that alley the next couple of nights and see if we can discover anything else.”

  Myltin nodded with satisfaction. “Exactly what I was going to suggest, Chief. And there was one other thing,” his voice lowered as he leaned closer. “It’s about that young woman and her brother.”

  Instantly, Ben went on alert as he stared at the gossip-addled Pearlian. The last thing he wanted was Myltin entertaining suspicions about the Belascos, especially when Ben was well aware he knew only a tiny fraction of their story. “What is?”

  “There’s something not quite right there. I checked their data and there is so little on the public feeds it makes me wonder if they are hiding something. I’m sure you’ve thought the same. Have you checked them on the security feeds yet?”

  “Myltin, you know we don’t conduct such a search unless someone has been arrested. Last time I checked, crashing and nearly dying wasn’t a crime.”

  Myltin drew back and gave him a speculative glare. “I understand. You’re hampered by your regulations. I’d be happy to look into the matter myself and fill you in on anything I discover. All on the quiet of course.”

  Ben restrained his urge to pick the man up by his belt and toss him outside. He needed a diversion for Myltin. “That’s an idea, but what I could really use your help with would be stepping up your observation of Pearl in the next few days. Extractors will be arriving and you know how wild things can get around here when they do. It’s hard to guess how much theft and mayhem is on the way.”

  He hoped appealing to the man’s strangely elevated sense of community involvement would distract him from digging around with the Belasco’s identities. He didn’t think Myltin had the connections or skills to discover anything of use, but anything was possible. His attempt to cloud the issue seemed to work; Myltin puffed his narrow chest and gave a couple of quick nods before he rushed away, thankfully turning the opposite direction Cara had taken moments before.

  Ben let out a sigh and wondered what he was going to do next. He’d have to get Cara to confide some more details of her situation to him so he could adequately assess the threat level. Glancing at his datpad, he noticed a ping the kitchens had just transmitted. Cara was safely at work, which meant he could probably get started as well. But he and Citizen Belasco were going to have another talk before the day was over. That’s all it was going to be—a talk.

  “What are you doing?”

  Cara halted, and her whole body tightened when she heard Chief Ben Zashi’s voice roll from her datpad like a clap of thunder.

  “I, ah, I’m…” She trailed off, raising her eyebrows at Mat as he watched her from the kitchen sink. They were cleaning up after dinner which seemed a perfectly mundane activity. “We’re washing dishes.” She shrugged, and Mat repeated her gesture, turning back to the sink and sloshing the cutlery around in the soapy water.

  “You and Mat or is there someone else there?”

  “Who else would be here? Yes, it’s just me and Mat.” Cara grimaced at the datpad as if it could see her expression. She froze again. Maybe it could. Perhaps the security chief had put some sort of remote monitor on it.

  He was silent for a moment, and she wondered if he’d just been checking on them. “Good. I’d like to come over.”

  Why? Cara stacked napkins in an untidy pile to distract herself. All she’d wanted was to relax after a decent meal and perhaps take a hot bath later. Now, Ben was coming over, and she’d have to keep her wits about her. She suddenly remembered how she’d cried all over him at the crash site, and her face flushed hot with embarrassment. “Now isn’t a good time. Mat’s pretty tired—”

  Her brother swung his head around and rolled his eyes at her.

  “I need to talk with you.”

  “Why?” She hadn’t been able to stop herself. The prospect of a long bath was suddenly very remote.

  “We have some things to go over.”

  “Tomorrow would be better. I’m just getting ready to take a bath.”

  He was silent again, and she felt wildly uncomfortable. She was being uncooperative with the only person on this planet who could help them. Her awkwardness was going to cause problems.

  “I’m coming over now,” he rumbled and the link ended with a chime. Cara froze again. She didn’t unfreeze until the door alarm sounded a few seconds later. She gestured for Mat to stay where he was, and she walked slowly down the short hallway.

  Yes, there he was, glowering at her from the door display. Taking in a shaky breath, she opened the door, and he stood there silently, looking her over as if he’d expected her to be wrapped in a towel and soaking wet. One of his eyebrows quirked up, and she frowned at him. He might want to think she was being deceptive, but she was merely tired and wanted to be left alone. When Ben crossed his arms, the inappropriate thought that she’d like another hug from him suddenly swooped around in her brain and made her dizzy for a second.

  “I said I was getting ready to take a bath, not that I was actually in one.”

  Ben merely made a low sound in this throat and waited at the doorstep. Gusting out a frustrated breath, Cara waved to invite him in, and he walked right past her without another glance. He disappeared into the living area and Cara leaned against the wall by the door as she closed it and keyed the lock. This was going to be a long evening. She heard Mat talking as she slunk in to find Ben nodding away while her brother described his new project at school.

  “So
we’re building these jumbo nanos, or miniature bots, whatever. Everyone has to build their own, but we also have to co-design with our team and make sure each of our individual machines can work together with the others to accomplish a collective task. And swarm spontaneously.” Mat laid each piece of clean silverware on a towel, and with an easy motion, Ben picked up it up and dried. Mat smiled and handed the older man a wet fork.

  “So what’s the collective task?”

  “War!” Mat chortled with glee. This project was all she’d heard about since she’d met him at school that afternoon, so perhaps Mat could bore the security chief into going away without remembering why he’d barged in. Watching him help with the dishes made her jittery. “The class is divided into two teams, and when we’re done building, we’re going to go out in the commons and fight each other to the death.”

  Cara thought it was bloodthirsty, but the assignment had inspired Mat.

  “When will this battle take place?”

  “Day after tomorrow. We have to work fast, because Citizen Topi says in the real world you have to be able to accomplish a lot in very little time.”

  “I’ll issue some caution beacons for the plaza so no innocent bystanders wander in and get hurt.”

  “That’s a great idea! I’ll tell Citizen Topi tomorrow.” Mat bounced on his toes as he let out the last of the water. “Cara, am I done? I want to get back to my design board.”

  She nodded, and he shot into the living area to return to all the display pads he’d set up with schematics and reference works. Good for Mat, but now, she had to face Ben and discover how much she could get away with not saying. He gave the dried silverware a glance. “Would you like me to put it away?”

  “No. Leave it.” Cara knew she sounded rude. Start being nice. “Have you eaten?”

  He shook his head, his observant eyes fixed on hers, and she wanted to back away. Without a word, she reached into the chiller and removed the containers of leftovers. Work in the barracks’ kitchen had inspired her to try something new again; creamed kale and chickpeas over pasta. As she warmed the entrée, she filled a glass with water and sat it on the counter in front of him and scooped some fresh fruit into bowl. As she handed over the warm plate, he raised an eyebrow and took a seat at the counter. Maybe he’d be distracted by food.

 

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