Seot and Cifa moved close, concern mirrored in their dissimilar features. Our Dramok asked, “Should we take extra precautions?”
“Let me talk to my associates. And law enforcement. I’ll get back to you.”
Larten commed those he hoped might help, but most of the people he wanted to talk to were off for the day. During dinner he told us, “I know someone who could set up a rebound signal on Shalia’s com. It won’t display a blocked frequency, but if she receives another message, we could see the location it’s being sent from. If you don’t mind me taking your portable unit with me to work tomorrow, my Matara?”
“No problem. Here, take it now.” I handed it over.
“Meanwhile, we’ll keep an eye on our Matara and child,” Seot said. He smiled at me apologetically. “I’m sorry to curtail your freedom, my love, but with any luck, it will be a short-term measure.”
“You mean I have to be with one of you at all times?” I said, pretending to find it inconvenient. “Oh, to have to hang around men I adore! Woe is me!”
That lightened the mood. I won’t pretend I’m not relieved that Anrel and I are to be chaperoned every second of the day until we can figure out if something Nang this way comes.
I don’t think Larten was surprised when I asked for extra knife training before bed. Obsessed? Suspicious? Scared? No, not me. Not a bit.
March 17
I was on edge for my therapy appointment today. My abandonment issues, quiet for the most part, were set aside to discuss the possibility that Nang had made it to Kalquor.
“One moment, I’m in denial. There is no real proof that he’s here. Nothing concrete. Then I start thinking I have to be on my guard, just in case. Because it would be stupid not to be, right? I need to be ready in case he comes for me or Anrel. I catch myself acting all paranoid, like he’s going to jump out from behind a tree, or a rock, or a rack of clothes, or a kitchen cabinet. I’m either fooling myself that all is well, or I’m freaking out.”
“Understandable.” Dr. Cafir offered the perfect percentage of concern, support, and serenity. I need to study her or find out where she took lessons to be able to do that.
“Is it? Or are you being nice?”
“A potential stalker is a terrifying prospect. You don’t know when or if they’ll show up. If they do, what is their initial goal? How far will they go to achieve it? How violent will they turn when you resist?”
“Stop trying to cheer me up.”
“You have to face the possibility of a worst-case scenario. Fortunately, you possess the kind of hard-won strength that can manage it. And you have one major factor in your favor.”
I knew what she meant. “The tracking implants.”
Cafir nodded. “Anrel’s implant gave you the ability to recover her quickly when Hina took her. I shudder to think of that occurring again, but it will save you two, should all else fail.” She made a kind of helpless fluttering motion with her hands. “You’re as prepared as you can be.”
“I hope it’ll be enough if the worst happens.”
“It’s awful to have to sit and wait for something that might not happen, not to mention second-guessing everything you do from now on.” Cafir scowled, her perfect equilibrium showing signs of fracturing. “I hate that you’re a target for this man.”
“Well, as you said, I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Tracker, training, clanmates sticking close by, com rigged for location detection from incoming messages, authorities alerted—though they can’t do much without an actual Nang sighting.”
“Tell your friends to be on the lookout when they’re around you. You can’t have too many eyes checking the surroundings in a case such as this.”
Her suggestion gave me another disquieting idea. “They should watch out in any case. What if Nang went after them to get to me? I couldn’t handle the guilt if he did.”
“Nang’s actions are his own. You can’t be blamed for what a grown man, sane or not, does in his obsession with you.” Cafir was firm about that.
“What do I do otherwise?” I said. “When I’m not preparing for pitched battle against a former lover, I mean.”
“Live life. Enjoy it as much as the circumstances allow you to.” Cafir gave me a sly smile. “That’s the best revenge against an enemy.”
March 19
A couple of days have gone by since I was scared half to death by that last com message. All quiet on the home front. No sign of anything bizarre or the least bit weird. Law enforcement hasn’t found out anything.
For the sake of everyone’s safety, at today’s foundation meeting I explained to the board about the whole embarrassing Nang thing. Hina was scandalized that a man would target me in such a manner. “Not a real man at all,” was her opinion, delivered with a sniff. “I’ll cave in his head if he comes anywhere near you or me.”
That’s my girl.
Emperor Egilka struggled with the news. He said, “We’ve had a woman go missing without explanation in the last week. She told her friends she was meeting a group of suitors, but something else may have occurred.”
Katrina went pale. “There is evidence of foul play with Meli—uh, the young woman’s disappearance?”
“Only that none of the clans on her list admits she was supposed to meet with them. They all have alibis as to their whereabouts. Otherwise, she seems to have vanished into thin air.” Egilka was visibly concerned. “Be careful in any case, Shalia. It may not be this obsessed Dramok you have to worry about, but someone else.”
I found it curious that an emperor would be invested in a missing person’s case. That he would even know about it, though I get us Earther gals are important to Kalquor. Still…I’d almost swear he wasn’t telling us something.
Flencik broke into my ruminations. “My Nobek is with Global Security. He may have resources the locals can’t tap. I’ll mention this Dramok Nang to him.”
“Thanks,” I said. I realized that other than his Matara Amelia, I wasn’t familiar with Flencik’s clan. “What’s your Nobek’s name?”
“Breft.”
Hina and I exchanged a startled glance. Crap. Flencik was clanned to the Nobek who had been in charge when Hina took Anrel. Double crap.
Yet Flencik showed no signs of realizing Hina had been charged with kidnapping by his clanmate. It’s wonderful that Nobek Breft can keep his mouth shut. I had to applaud the officer for being as ethical as a cop should be.
On the heels of that, I thought Sweet, gentle Flencik is clanned to that scary-ass Nobek? That was crazy when I compared the two. Then another comparison popped up: the incredible size disparity between the Imdiko and Nobek. Flencik is a friggin’ giant. Breft is the shortest Kalquorian I’ve encountered.
I can’t imagine how that combination works. I’m almost afraid to find out what their Dramok looks like.
Meanwhile, good news…because no news is good news. Larten’s contacts haven’t heard of any reports that Nang has been sighted anywhere on Kalquor. He’s gone as far as inquiring at various spaceports. Without official law enforcement clout, he’s not got the kind of clearance that lets him delve into information. He’s still sending out requests to associates on various space stations and colonies nearby.
Two weird messages, received days ago, and not another peep. No sign of Nang anywhere. No hint he’s on Kalquor at all. Maybe for once, my luck will be decent.
March 20, early
Yesterday, my clan’s morning started with an early surprise. We finished off the day with a bang.
Our surprise was when the head of household management—probably the equivalent of an Earther butler—met us as we were heading from the sleeping room to grab breakfast. Dramok Felard, a mature man with impeccable manners and unwavering attention to detail, bowed to us in the middle of the hall.
“Excuse me, Matara Shalia, Dramok Seot. I’ve been informed that a Global Security shuttle has landed in the bay. A couple of officers are asking to meet with the entire clan.”
Seot ga
ve me a glance. “I guess Dr. Flencik had that talk with his Nobek.”
“I guess so.” I hugged Anrel close. “I didn’t expect him to drop in, however. He must have brought his partner with him. Raxstad, right?”
“Maybe he has news?” Cifa suggested.
Seot nodded to Felard. “We’ll meet them in the greeting room.”
The door announce buzzed through the home. Felard hurried ahead of us to let them in.
Raxstad was as big a bruiser as ever. He bowed and made silly faces at Anrel. On any other man, the sight might have been touching. Raxstad is no one’s version of adorable, nevertheless. I thought as primitive the heavy-browed officer looked, overlarge with muscle, he would have scared the baby. She didn’t find the massive brute to be fearsome in the least, however. She laughed at his gestures of peekaboo, enthralled to watch that heavy-jawed face disappear and reappear from behind his huge hands.
Breft’s lips twisted in an approximation of a smile at his partner’s antics. He managed to tone down some of that aura of barely-contained savagery. He spoke softly to Anrel after according us all the customary bow. “Hello, small lovely. You have grown at least two inches since I saw you last.” He sighed and shook his head at Seot. “They don’t stay small long enough to properly enjoy.”
“Indeed, they don’t,” my Dramok agreed. “Would you like to sit down?”
None of the Nobeks sat, including Larten. After refusing any refreshments, Breft attended to the business at hand. “An unfortunate matter of miscommunication has occurred, for which I must apologize. Global Security had been notified of this issue regarding this Dramok Nang’s potential danger to Matara Shalia several weeks ago. However, it somehow got lost in the system. When the Matara and her daughter arrived on Kalquor, we were to note it and make contact. We were to also put into place a detection grid in the hopes of capturing Dramok Nang should he make it to Kalquor. None of this has happened until today.”
“You were the enforcement agency Weapons Commander Oses spoke to?” I asked.
“Correct.” Breft scowled, his anger directed at the floor. “It’s unfortunate this got past us. Rest assured, we’re taking steps to correct the lapse and ensure that you won’t suffer for it.”
Someone in Global Security was getting their ass kicked. For their sake, I hoped it wasn’t Breft who would do the kicking. He might not leave them any ass at the end.
“What will happen at this point?” Seot asked.
“You live in a location that is impossible to reach secretly. We’ll set up a routine sea and air patrol that’ll keep an eye on your home. You have a security system of your own in place?”
“We do.”
“Excellent. I’m also demanding all surveillance footage of the space ports for the last six weeks. We’ll scan them for any sign of Nang. It may be a few of days, due to the number of ports and people arriving that are involved. However, if he’s gotten on this planet, we’ll know.”
“And if he hasn’t?” I asked.
Raxstad gave me what I suppose was meant to be a reassuring expression. “If nothing comes up in the planetary surveillance, we’ll have those of the rest of the empire’s incoming passenger records scanned. An active watch for Dramok Nang has been enacted throughout our entire system.”
“He can’t be here without us discovering it,” Breft promised. “If he’s not made it here yet, we’ll catch him when he tries to do so.”
“In the meanwhile, alert us the moment you receive any further anonymous messages. We’ll put a trace on all your coms.”
“There’s already one on Shalia’s,” Larten told them. “It’s doubtless not as good as what you could give her.”
The rest of the meeting was a rehash of the messages I’d received and my history with Nang. We reviewed safety measures for Anrel and me to take, inputted direct frequencies that my clan could use to contact Breft and Raxstad, and set up the traces on our coms. The officers inspected our home’s security, and received approval from Seot to gain direct access to have his company activate the trackers implanted on Anrel and me. Breft apologized once again for my case falling through the cracks at Global Security.
“Stuff like that happened all the time at Earth law enforcement agencies,” I said, trying to make him feel better.
“It does not happen in Global Security,” he responded. His terrifying ferocity surfaced for an instant.
Eek. If he has anything to do with it, heads will roll at the office.
I felt reassured after talking with the two. I’m grateful Flencik said something to his clanmate. Between the guarantee that Global Security has my back and the fact my mysterious messenger hasn’t contacted me in a few days, I decided it would be okay to go out with the guys for an adults-only beach party we’d been invited to.
It helped that Matara Elwa had said she’d keep Anrel for my clan’s regular date night. I’d attempted to cancel a couple days ago, but she wouldn’t hear of it. “I’ll hire security from my firm to play sentries at the home,” she’d told me. That’s Elwa; calm, cool, and collected with a plan in place. She wasn’t kidding about security, either. Darned if she didn’t have a full dozen of the nastiest-looking Nobeks this side of Breft on her property when we dropped Anrel off. If Nang thought he’d pull a scheme while the baby was out of my sight, he was in for a bad reckoning. Possibly deadly.
“Your guards don’t have orders to kill on sight, do they?” I asked, worried that they were armed to the teeth and appeared eager to use those weapons.
“Ask no questions, Shalia,” Elwa said. “Focus on the fact that our little Anrel will be safer than if she was in the heart of Fleet Headquarters. The Imperial Clan isn’t as secure as our baby while you have some much-needed fun.”
I don’t know whether to worship that woman or run screaming from her. Yet I had to admit, it was a sure bet that not even a party of Tragooms would dare Elwa’s security guards.
With a flurry of kisses that Anrel barely acknowledged in favor of the handcrafted doll Elwa had bought her from Joshada, my men and I were off to the beach. I looked forward to music, games, food, and drinking.
What a blast we had. The party was put on by the Kalquorian version of the district’s chamber of commerce, a massive blowout for the area’s business leaders and their clans. It was a chance to hobnob, make deals, and promote one’s commercial interests. With Seot owning a successful munitions company and Cifa at the helm of the cruise line, we were a welcome and sought-after group. Ila and Erom came with their clans as well.
The early part was all the party had been advertised as. I’m merely an employee at Cifiler Cruises, but I got busy making contacts on behalf of the fertility foundation. Since many of the other successful business owners are clanned either to infertile Kalquorian women or egg-laden Earther gals, I was my most charming self. That was hard work. Not only did I get interest from potential egg donors and recipients, but also donors of the cashflow-type. I schmoozed my ass off.
The food was good. The band was okay, though not as dance-friendly as I would have preferred. The games had a casino vibe with wagers on contests of skill and chance. The businesses had put up prizes. Darn if Ila didn’t win a day-cruise from her own line, tossing polished pebbles at numbered targets on a table.
“Oh, by the ancestors. Only I would win my own prize,” she yelled in frustration as everyone laughed. She swapped out with another winner for a gourmet dinner delivered to her home.
I won a couple times too. The first prize I scored was tickets to the opening game of the kurble season, which lit up Larten’s eyes—he’s a fan. I was more delighted with my second win, which was six kestarsh riding lessons. I can’t wait for that.
The night wore on and the drinks kept flowing. People would disappear for a little while among the dunes, then return looking sandy and mussed, their nice clothes somewhat askew. My initial thought was, no way. Gritty sand in sensitive places? I think not.
Then it occurred to me how powdery the sand was
on this beach. Super soft, like talcum. The more I drank, the more I considered, hmmm. Maybe the other clans were on to something.
Yet Seot and Cifa were always talking to some community leader, trading insights, making deals. Larten kept busy with games, eating, and drinking, but I noted he didn’t stray far from me. Aw, my big protector. He needed to be rewarded.
Buzzing pleasantly enough to be ready for a more private beach party, I sidled close to my fierce clanmate. Larten was committing his fourth round of damage to the buffet. “A walk would be romantic,” I said in an undertone.
Larten turned to me, his cheeks chipmunk-full of ytor shellfish. “Are you bored?” he asked in a garbled voice. “Run out of games to play?”
I giggled, both at the decidedly un-romantic appearance of a Nobek with his mouth crammed full of food, and him missing the hint I was giving. Ah, I love that guy, even when he’s clueless.
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