Her Darkest Beauty_An Alien Invasion Series_The Second Generation

by Patricia Renard Scholes

  She was proud of her act, willing to bet it was successful. The truth was, she knew him as well as he "knew" Pama. His name was Bonamot L'weh, and owned a chain of stores, Emeri's being one of them. A couple of years ago he had spent a small fortune on Pama, hoping she would become his contracted Lady. But at the time she was doing a job for the Homelander Front. Karra had considered him a diversion, nothing more. As soon as she had finished, she had disappeared from his life. Until now.

  "How long ago did you know him?"

  Karra jumped visibly.

  Von was not fooled after all, the beast taunted. You just can’t count on some things.

  "I don't even know if I did. You know my previous occupation." She kept her voice as calm as she could, but a sharp edge pierced her control.

  "Let us take our seats, Laren." Von gave her a kind smile. "The show will start soon. Could I get you a drink?"

  "No," she lied. But a drink was exactly what she needed right now.

  Von had reserved two seats in the front row. Laren sat and watched enviously while Von went to get herself a drink.

  She returned with two. "I am sorry, Laren. But you looked a little shaken. I know I would have been."

  "Thanks," Karra said, meaning it. She sipped it slowly. When it was almost gone she felt the beginnings of a pleasant, mellow haze warm her to her toes and flush her thinking. Strong for a first drink, she realized with a glance at Von. But the woman's attention was on Manwu who was taking a bow as the show's producer.

  Karra tried to watch, but the man kept fuzzing.

  She concentrated on the introduction. Manwu was not the coordinator or the choreographer, but it would not have happened without him. He was the money behind the show. Karra found herself irritated at him for flashing his wealth this way, especially since he seemed to take a long time accepting all the attention.

  Von turned back to Laren. "You will like this," she promised. "Manwu produces two shows a year. No more. But he thoroughly enjoys himself. I guess you might say this is his way of playing." She paused. "When you were a little girl, what did you do for play?"

  "Play?" Play was rare. "I don't think I did." But there were times…

  "Of course you did," Von said, her voice scarcely more than a conspirator's whisper.

  Karra smiled, remembering a particular incident. "I don't talk about my past, Von," she said, catching herself at the last instant.

  "Maybe you should. What did you do as a child?"

  "Poor kids have runny noses," she said. "I always seemed to have a cold."

  "But there is more, correct?"

  Karra nodded. She and Jem had played, all right. "I cased stores and other businesses; I fenced things stolen by my brother; I played a stall while my brother picked pockets. We would plan swindle schemes together and make them work. If the Security found out we ran like the Northrange Wind." And she had enjoyed it.

  “Oh, Laren, that sounds like work. Surely there were times to unwind, to do something just for fun."

  "Eating was fun," she said. But the best part was the thrill of power when the schemes worked.

  "When not planning something, what did you do?"

  "During the longest days of winter, when the sun rests on the horizon for its few hours and it’s too cold to burglarize, I read books, everything I could get my hands on." You're always reading, Carlon would accuse. Don't you know enough already? Aren't you the Talented one? What do you do in school all day, sit around? "He was jealous."

  "Who was?"

  "My brother." Carlon, not Jem. Jem encouraged her reading, the way he encouraged everything she wanted to try. Jem had been her best friend, until recently.

  "Why was he jealous?"

  "He said I should do something better with my time, but I did. I could earn more money than he could, and every time I brought it up he wanted to beat me again." She grinned in silver malice, remembering. Carlon had been stupid to limit himself to legal options.

  "Was everything you did illegal?"

  "No."

  "I am sure you are talented in many different things."

  "Yes." Talented? You’re the Talented one. What had Carlon meant by that? Suddenly Karra gave Von a sharp glance. What was all this garbage threatening to spill out? She placed the drink on the floor at her feet and set her lips into a firm line.

  They watched the fashion show in silence. Karra forced herself to focus on the models parading in front of her with a swish of color and the flow of fabric. Just as she suspected, the manufacturers seemed to be pushing a combination of Homelander and Nevian. There were free-flowing skirts and wide-legged pants, large puffed or bell sleeves. In contrast there were also clingy, slinky knits, form-fitting fabrics that actually stuck to the skin. Del might hate them, but Karra decided she liked most of the styles presented.

  Perhaps the drink's potency had been accidental. But if it were intentional? Karra would watch herself more carefully around Von from now on. Just as the last few dresses were being shown, she made an excuse to go the ladies' facility. She left the building instead.

  Let Von figure it out.

  The elderly Nevian woman announced herself at the High Commissioner's office as though expected. The receptionist, seeing her as one of the Commissioner's regular guests, waved the grandmotherly Nevian in.

  "He's not busy at the moment," she said.

  "Thank you," she replied, giving a respectful nod of her head.

  As she entered Del lifted his head from the papers he was studying, and smiled. "How did it go?"

  "She left me," Von told him. "I think she noticed her drink was drugged."

  He sighed. "We probably should not have tried it. Now she will be suspicious of you. Did she reveal anything?"

  "Not really. I doubt she reveals much to anybody."

  "No,” he sighed. “She reveals nothing. Speculation?"

  "She is hiding something. It might be as simple as an unsavory past, or it might be something more sinister such as a plot against you. At this point I simply cannot tell."

  "Will you continue to befriend her?"

  "Are you sure about this girl, Del?"

  He sighed again. "No. I am only sure that I love her, and that I want more than a legal contract with her."

  "Pardon my saying so, but is that wise? As your Lady she needs no special clearance. But as your wife…"

  "I know. Please, Von."

  "With delight. I have never enjoyed an assignment more. Although quiet, she is interesting. I might even succeed in finding some of those missing pieces of her past."

  "You might. I should never have retired you, Mistress Kees Sol. You have always been one of my favorite agents."

  "My pleasure." She bowed before she left. Although he was her friend, he was also the High Commissioner and deserved the formality.

  After she left, Del pressed a button on his desk. Lieutenants Motz and Berti entered his office.

  "I want you to assign some people to watch Mistress Demmita," he ordered.

  Chapter 33

  Karra scarcely remembered her. As she stared at her now, Bibbera’s arms tightly wrapped around her books, head slightly down and eyes fixed purposefully ahead, she realized she never considered her before Manroy’s insistence.

  "I know it isn't much of a recommendation," he said then. "But you wanted a girl, and I think she'll be perfect."

  "Not just because she's a girl, surely. Sinda is one too, and I wouldn't give her a nod of my head."

  "Because of what she says, and the intensity behind it."

  Manroy had come a long way from the stammering boy of last fall. If Stiveson were still around, he would have been impressed.

  "Quote me something," Karra told him.

  "'Someday these Nevians are going to get all their sass thrown back at them. Did you see that last leaflet the Press printed? Why is it wrong to want to get old? Why is that privilege reserved only for Nevians? And they are getting old on my planet. I'm the Homelander. Shouldn't I be the one allowed t
o see grandchildren?' Then she walked away. I wanted to run after her, but I thought I'd better talk to you first."

  So Karra fell into step behind Bibbera until she reached the airway tube. At that point, Karra stumbled into her with enough force to spill books and papers all over the walkway.

  "You idiot!" Bibbera flung at her as she bent down to retrieve her schoolwork.

  Karra bent down with her. "Sorry," she said loud enough for passersby to hear. But as she helped Bibbera pick papers of the walkway, she whispered, "I am Karra Willo. If you want to hear more about printing leaflets for the Press, touch coordinates 25-736.”

  Before Bibbera responded, Karra left and boarded the airway. She pressed the code she had just given Bibbera, and waited from the comfort of a kaffa shop to see who would exit. Hopefully, not Security.

  But a few minutes later when the membrane dilated open, Bibbera exited, still clutching a wild array of papers topped by a couple of books. She looked scared.

  Karra placed a five-wen note under her cup, left the shop, and approached the exit slowly, making sure the girl saw her coming. Her hand stroked a pistol in her pocket, in case the girl made any sudden move.

  "Do you want to talk?"

  "Yes!"

  Karra inclined her head at the airway. "Shall we? I know of a nice, quiet bar. My treat," she added when she saw Bibbera hesitate.

  She pushed back a dark lock of hair and studied her in wary gratitude. “All right."

  When their bubble stopped, Karra led them through a door labeled The Sleeping Dragon. From pad level it seemed as though they were entering a small, square building, but inside was a staircase winding downward, below the pad, into a much larger, red-lit lounge.

  "This is interesting," Bibbera commented as Karra found them a table. "How did you find it?"

  "An escort brought me here once. Good food too." A waitress approached. "Menus," Karra told her.

  "How do you do it?"

  "Do what? Go with an escort? Find an interesting lounge?"

  Belatedly, Bibbera realized Karra had made a joke. She smiled. "Do all right financially," she explained. "No one else does."

  "Because I'll hustle anything that'll move. I've had a daughter to support since I was fourteen."

  As soon as she mentioned her daughter aloud, she saw the firestorm again, and her abandoned daughter weeping. She could not shake the image. Neither did the beast arrive to substitute the image with insistence upon obedience. She felt edgy, as she had ever since the beast had refused to allow her to act. No release, but for some strange reason, no beast right now either. She needed to concentrate to continue with her purpose in inviting Bibbera to this lounge.

  "Oh. All I have is me, no one else to support… no one else at all."

  "How long have you been on your own?"

  "I ran away from a children's home last year and stayed with a friend for a few cycles until I found a job. I just wish the job had lasted longer. A few more cycles and I would have been able to graduate."

  "You'll have to kick out?"

  "I wanted to get into a secretarial pool and find an Inner City job."

  Karra nodded, her face expressionless. She had worked in one before, on assignment. The actual secretarial jobs had been too infrequent to support herself. Bibbera would have been among thousands trying for the same work.

  “I heard you have a yellow certificate. Is that how you make your money?"

  "Not usually.” She never had. She always preferred burglary, preventing any Spons from owning her. “Other things pay better," she said aloud.

  "But who else will hire you once you're registered?"

  Karra shrugged as the waitress returned. "Fruit juice with carbonated water," she said. "A cheese and chips plate for both of us, and whatever she wants to drink. My bill."

  "Mulled brew," Bibbera said with an embarrassed glance.

  Karra shook her head. "Give her a Ma Vita with a twist of lemon."

  "But I like mulled brew," the girl protested. "And it's cheaper."

  "And I'm buying. Mulled brew a street drink. It labels you as Area right away."

  "You're Area." Bibbera flushed. “Aren’t you?”

  “But you’re not. Besides, you’ll like the Ma Vita. It’s as strong as a brew, but made with that Nevian goldwhisky. I invited you to this place so we could get to know each other better. One of the things I want you to know about me is, I’m never cheap. You asked me how I make my money. That’s a little private, but I’ll answer you this way. I get paid for special jobs. Anything. If the price is right.”

  And that had made all the difference, Karra knew. Where other girls became tied to a Spons, or burglars to a particular kind of job, she never limited herself. Why is it so important to review all this now?

  But a part of her knew the answer. She had planned to get herself and her daughter out of the Area and into their own home. She intended to live in the open. She never wanted her daughter to roam through life in the shadows, always on edge. She had wanted out. And now, no more than a tenday after she agreeing to the beast’s demands, she was having second thoughts.

  But there was no escape from the beast. It had killed half her personality. It would….

  Bibbera sulked in the silence. “Anything?” she asked finally. “Anything at all?”

  Karra nodded.

  “I don’t think I could make money your way.”

  That was the difference, Karra realized, between herself and others caught in the same circumstances. Karra would do anything asked of her, if the price was right. Then why would she be so willing to be the beast’s compliant tool, when the only price was this constant twist of emotion?

  “You won’t be asked to.”

  The waitress came with their drinks and chips.

  “Just leaflets?” Bibbera continued after she left.

  “Just leaflets. Bibbera, I don’t want you jumping into this without thinking. Right now you could say ‘no’ and it would be all right, but you can’t walk out once you’re in. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I do. But I don’t have anything else going for me. It’s not my fault. I did everything right. I stayed out of trouble. I stayed in school and away from entanglements that might lead to a yellow certificate. I thought the Nevian system would help me find my future, at least some kind of a future, but right now I don’t even know if I have a tomorrow. I am so fed up with Nevian lies that I want to choke every one of them I see. Your offer came at exactly the right moment. I don’t want out of the Homelander Front. Ever. Resistance is our only chance for a future.”

  Quite a speech for someone who rarely spoke up, Karra thought. But one glance at Bibbera’s glittering black eyes convinced her that the girl believed every word. She understood Manroy’s comment about intensity.

  “All I can do is submit your name and get back to you,” Karra said at length.

  “Then how will I live?” Bibbera cried.

  “I’ll ask. The Front should have something for you.” She had an idea Jem would approve her instantly. Like the King, he had a way of capitalizing on desperate people in desperate situations. She knew from experience.

  “Good,” Bibbera breathed in relief. “How soon can you tell me?”

  “It might be a few handspans. Can you make it?”

  Bibbera shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ll try.”

  “Take this.” Karra pushed a ten-wen note in front of the girl. “It’ll extend tomorrow a few days anyway. I grew up hungry. Just because I’m not now doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how it feels.”

  The girl opened her eyes in astonishment. “I can’t!”

  Karra merely shrugged and rose from her chair. “So leave it for the waitress.”

  Chapter 34

  Karra hung back after her group with Gradi on purpose this time. Last handspan her conversation with her sister was too strained. Maybe this time when they talked Su would share news of Chalatta. After all, she had stayed away from her daughter for a whole year. Her ar
ms ached to hold her again. Surely Suzin would give her a little bit of time once a handspan. Not much, just…

  “Laren,” Gradi said. “Did you need something?”

  Startled, she spun toward Gradi, defenses raised. She relaxed as soon as she saw him.

  “Sorry,” she said, not sure why she apologized. “I just…” The right words refused to come. Her emotions had tied her tongue in knots.

  “Yes?” He inclined his head in a brief nod of encouragement.

  “I was hoping I could use one of your small conference rooms.”

  “To be alone, or to meet with someone?”

  “With one of your other students. I think she comes in later.”

  Just then, Su entered. She saw Karra, and as before, hesitated.

  “What do you want now?” she hissed when she got close enough for Karra to hear her. She then turned to Gradi. “This woman is bothering me. I would like you to tell her to leave me alone.”

  “I think she would like to meet with you,” Gradi said.

  “Last handspan we agreed…”

  “No. Last handspan we talked about Saril. I’m sorry about Saril, Su. I really am. I had no idea that party she planned to attend was an initiation party, and that she was the one being initiated. But I need to talk to you about Chalatta.”

  “No.” Suzin began to walk toward her class.

  “At least let’s ask Gradi if we can use one of his rooms to talk. I need this, Su.”

  “What about what Chalatta needs?”

  “Please?”

  Gradi looked between the two women as if in question.

  “I need…” Karra said.

  “She wants to use one of your rooms to hold a private conversation,” Suzin said, her back rigid, her chin thrust forward as if she demanded the impossible. “But if you don’t have one…”

  “Right this way, ladies,” the old priest said.

  He led them down the hall to a small conference room. “Right in here.”