Eomix Galaxy Books: Identity (Book 2 of 2)

by Yelich-Koth,Christa

  Torrak entered the small, dank establishment. The mixed smell of body odor and fruity drinks hit him like a wall. With a glance around, he noticed a booth to his left in which two massive Trairs sat, a species with unusually large sweat glands over most of their bodies. Their scent nauseated him, so Torrak quickly headed in the other direction.

  The single room consisted of a bar, some stools, and a few moldy booths. There were two doors, one marked as an exit and the other do not enter. Torrak knew most patrons wouldn’t come until after second sunset, so he ordered a glass of local ale and waited at the end of the bar.

  Three drinks after second sunset, Nuis arrived. Torrak’s eyes flicked up briefly, long enough for identification, and dropped back to his watered-down ale. The man’s curly, tawny hair fell to his broad shoulders. He had auburn skin, tinged redder from the sun, and a large, dazzling white smile. Torrak realized quite quickly, from the neatly pressed and tailored clothes and the clean, shined shoes that Nuis may not be the bully his reputation suggested. His companions, however....

  Two huge, bulky men followed close behind Nuis. They sat at the bar and Nuis ordered a round of drinks for himself and his friends. At first, Torrak looked for a place he could move to overhear their conversation, but realized it wouldn’t be necessary. Nuis spoke loudly and from the sound of it he had no problem with everyone hearing his story.

  “There I was, face to face with a Wict, and he challenges me over some parts I sold him.” Nuis imitated the over-sized, muscled Wict with a series of snarls and grunts. Torrak noticed that many of the listeners smiled at this imitation.

  “Apparently,” Nuis continued, “this Wict didn’t know who he was dealing with and thought there’d be no contest. So I fake defeat, telling him I’d talk to my supplier again and find out why he sent faulty parts. Right when the Wict thought he’d won, I punched him in the chest and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath!” At this, Nuis started to laugh. Infectious, soon his captive audience around him laughed as well.

  Above the laughter, a voice spoke up. “Quite a story. Too bad it isn’t true.”

  The whole bar quieted. “Excuse me?”

  Torrak spoke again. “Your story. You tell it with such conviction, but it’s a complete lie.”

  Nuis put down his drink and walked over to Torrak’s booth, his hands clenched. “Would you like a re-enactment?”

  Torrak smiled. “Anyone who’s ever met a Wict knows they don’t breathe. It would be impossible for him to gasp for breath since there isn’t any air in him to begin with. They exchange gases through their skin.” Torrak sat back in his booth. “Perhaps you should do more research about the imaginary beings you beat up before you tell your stories.”

  Several patrons in the bar laughed at Nuis’s flushed face. “Perhaps you should do more research before you insult someone you don’t know.” Nuis’s two companions started to close in on Torrak.

  “Have to send your muscle after me instead of getting your own hands dirty, Nuis?” Torrak internally cringed at how stupid the words sounded. He hoped he sounded like a tough guy.

  Nuis held up his hand and the two attackers stopped. “How do you know who I am?”

  “I did my research. But I’m not here to fight. I came to talk.”

  Nuis remained silent in thought. He then gestured toward the door behind them.

  Torrak slipped out of the booth to follow him.

  “They stay out,” Torrak said, in reference to Nuis’s thugs after they checked him for weapons.

  Nuis dismissed them. Torrak shut the door. The room, not much larger than a closet, had dull, brown walls and faded cyan carpeting. A broom with a chipped handle stood in one corner, the other held a stack of yellowed papers. A small desk sat in the middle of the room with two chairs on either side of it. Nuis took a seat in one and waited until Torrak followed suit.

  Nuis leaned back in his chair and picked delicately at his neatly trimmed nails. “I don’t know who you are, but you’d better have something good to talk to me about before I smash your face in.”

  Like you’d ever risk wrecking your perfect manicure, Torrak thought to himself. “I’m looking for information.”

  “Information, huh? Information isn’t free, you know.”

  “I know. How much do you want?”

  “Depends on what you need.”

  “I’m interested in finding a client of yours.”

  “I’ve got lots of clients. Some are worth more than others.” Nuis smiled.

  “Alright. It’s about a client who wanted to buy scrap metal from Aleet Army ships.”

  The smile on Nuis’s face melted away. “You do seem to know quite a bit. I’d be interested in who directed you to me.”

  Torrak smiled. “We all want to know something.”

  “True.” Nuis leaned forward. “Meet me here,” he said as he scribbled on a piece of yellow-stained paper, “in four days.”

  “Daith? Daith can you hear me?”

  Daith’s head pounded. Her eyelids fluttered open to see Trey leaning over her.

  “Trey?” Dried saliva cracked in the corner of her mouth. “What’s going on?”

  “You were screaming and I came into your quarters. You were thrashing around. I called for medical to come help.” He nodded over at Doctor Milastow.

  Daith’s head felt heavy when she lifted it. She caught Trey’s eyes, full of worry, but she remembered them being filled with malice.

  “No,” she muttered, pulling away from him. The blanket under her bunched up at her feet. “Stay away.”

  “Lie still for a moment.” Milastow’s cool fingers pressed against her forehead.

  “You killed him,” Daith said, drawing her legs into her chest. “I saw you.” The images of Poka’s deflated body filled her mind. And then Trey had turned his rage onto her....

  Trey raised his eyebrows, bewildered. “What are you talking about? I haven’t killed anyone.”

  Daith nodded, her head swimming in pain. “Poka came to my quarters. You killed him out in the corridor.” She touched the side of her face where Trey had struck her, but it felt fine. No swelling, no pain.

  “What?” Trey turned his confused stare to the doctor. “Poka? Who’s Poka? We don’t have a cadet by that name, do we?”

  Milastow shook her head. “I-I don’t know, Commander. I’m not familiar with all the cadets by name.” She moved over to the computer wall console and activated it. “Computer, is there a Cadet Poka on board?”

  “There is no record of a crewmember with that name on board.”

  Daith slid her fingers into her hair, pressing on her throbbing skull. “I don’t understand.”

  “Could it have been a nightmare?” Trey asked, his voice gentle.

  Daith grimaced. It seemed so real. “I suppose...”

  Milastow stepped back over. “Have you been taking your dream-deflector pills?”

  Daith could sense the doctor’s nervous energy.

  “I think so? I’ve kind of been sleeping here and there, though.”

  Milastow’s shoulders drooped, her third limb wrapped loosely around her neck. “Commander, I wouldn’t be surprised if these were images implanted in her mind while she slept. We are approaching the Fracc system, which is densely populated.”

  Trey rubbed his chin. “True. After Doctor Ludd left the ship, he may have alerted members of the Controllers about our current plan. They may know we are closer, and proximity does make telepathic connections stronger.” His jaw muscles clenched. “I don’t know what to do anymore, who to trust. I keep so many of the crew from knowing all the details of the plan for precisely this reason.” He sighed. “Daith, would you like to tell me about your dream? Maybe there is a clue as to who is behind this?

  Daith’s headache worsened. She didn’t want to be around him. He’d been terrifying and the images felt so vivid—Poka’s vindictive jeers, Trey’s wrath, the pain when he slapped her. She couldn’t think straight. “Can we talk later? I don’t fe
el very well.”

  Milastow leaned over and injected Daith with a syringe. “This is a sedative to help you sleep. I’ve added a dose of dream-deflectors to it. You should be out until tomorrow.”

  “Please make sure I’m awake in time to meet the rest of the crew in the morning, Trey,” she mumbled, her eyelids heavy.

  “Oh, of course, Daith.”

  Through the haze, Daith heard Trey whisper to Milastow.

  “What meeting is she talking about?”

  *

  Trey paced across the slick, black glass floor.

  So close. So close to ruining everything. All his years of waiting, planning, training. Almost gone in a moment.

  All because of that idiotic crewmember, Poka.

  Trey stopped, arms rigid at his side. He forced a breath through his teeth. It whistled in the large room, evaporating into the soundproof walls.

  He couldn’t believe he lost control like that. And he’d struck Daith!

  Trey’s fists whitened. Another breath out—this one longer, slower.

  He and Doctor Milastow had quickly removed Poka’s body from the corridor and stashed it in medical. Doctor Milastow would eventually disintegrate it and reprocess it into the ship’s recycling systems. Then Trey examined the bridge—he replaced the console she melted with her hand, told them Poka had been dismissed from service, and warned that any mention of him to other crewmembers would result in immediate dismissal.

  After, he returned to his office and wiped any trace of Poka from the ship’s logs and memory banks. So simple—search for a name and remove it. But what to do about Cadet Ishia Ikar? Daith would certainly go to her to ask what she remembered. Trey believed Daith was strong enough to sense if Ishia lied.

  Trey’s muscles relaxed through his breathing. His anger abated. Control returned once more. He walked to the center of the room, located on the top floor underneath the ship’s observation lounge, void of any other crew. The massive space dwarfed him and the only other item that occupied it—a Memory Machine.

  He found it long after Jacin’s death, broken and rusted, a warped shell of a device on a trash planet. Everyone who ever took Eomix Galaxy History knew about Memory Machines—used by the Chears to erase and implant memories in others. The Chears had nearly conquered the galaxy, but after their downfall, the M.M.’s were deconstructed and deemed illegal to use. The law was one of the first unanimously passed by every planet through the Eomix United Front.

  Trey approached the gleaming, white machine. With a large helmet that hung over a flat bed, the contraption looked as welcoming as a dissection table. In a sense, it could be considered that. Except instead of a scalpel to the body, it focused its energy on the mind, targeting a patient’s memories.

  He ran his hand over the smooth helmet and initiated the startup sequence. The machine hummed to life as lights around the helmet glowed magenta. Without this contraption, his plan would never have gone into play. It removed Daith’s memories when they first brought her on board. Now she believed anything Trey told her.

  He feared to use it on her again to erase the memory of Trey killing Poka, in case it damaged her mind, so creativity had taken over. A quick search and destroy of Ikar’s memories, like a file search and delete on the ship’s computer, would take care of the problem.

  The door to the room slid open. Doctor Milastow entered, guiding a wide-eyed Cadet Ikar in front of her.

  “You wanted to see me, Commander?” the cadet asked, her voice betraying her awe and fear. She tucked her short hair behind her ears, her gaze drawn to the contraption in the middle of the room.

  “Yes, Cadet,” Trey said, patting the table. “This will only take a moment.”

  Four days after the encounter at The Fishbowl, Torrak and Kalil set off to meet Nuis. Kalil’s knee felt better, although the faded yellowish bruises made it look otherwise.

  Their destination lay on the other side of the city, so they rented an Anywhere and You’re There! vehicle. The driver steered them into a wealthy suburb. Towering houses sat next to each other, intricately designed with elaborate yards.

  The car drove up the winding white path of a silver and black mansion, which towered over them. The front of the house featured a huge garden full of plants and flowers, all different colors and types. Exotic and rare, Torrak knew it must have cost a small fortune to have them delivered from their native worlds. Kalil’s mouth hung open at the sight.

  The building consisted of three parts—a large, rounded center dome with two smaller wings on either side. The grounds showcased a spacious patio spread out on the left side of the house and a nah-tsu courtyard sat on the right. The silver color etched into the black walls created a fluid pattern on the house. Only when Torrak got closer did he realize silver liquid actually flowed under a clear cover.

  They exited the vehicle, walked up the wide staircase that led to the main door, and rang the bell. A gong sounded from somewhere inside.

  “Torrak, if this is Nuis’s place, we are in trouble. What could we possibly offer someone who obviously has no problem buying anything he wants?”

  “I don’t know, but this is our only lead so somehow we have to get this information.” The door opened. Torrak wasn’t sure what to make of the being that stood there.

  The being stood almost three meters tall with bright gold skin. Twisted sections of rusty-golden hair lay loosely on top of her head. Long tresses hung down to the being’s waist, and the very tips were a bright yellow. Her garment, a copper colored gauzy material, wrapped around her neck, shoulders, waist, and right leg. A dark, golden pattern swirled across the being’s skin in circular and curved figures.

  “Welcome”, the being said over her purr. Her feline nose twitched. “My name is Preeaht. Nuis is expecting you. Please, come in.”

  The foyer opened up to a wide white marble staircase. The stairs were accentuated by golden handrails and covered with a lush, mauve carpet. A huge chandelier hung from above and emitted a gold-tinted light that set off the specks of gold engraved in the white tile. Violet-red curtains hung from large windows, creating shadowed patterns that stretched across the floor and spilled onto the walls.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, the words vibrating. “Everyone stares the first time.” The being turned and winked at Kalil. His eyes widened, but he remained silent.

  A strong scent of incense enveloped them once they entered the room to the left of the main door. Multi-colored woven drapes hung from the center of the ceiling and swooped outward toward each corner, casting shadows from the smoky lights. Creatures and beings, most of them unrecognizable species to Torrak, lounged upon huge cushions and lavish rugs strewn about the floor. Several lay entwined, limbs wrapped around each other, absorbed in murmured conversation or more intimate physical contact. Nuis sat in the middle of the room on a large, plush pillow with a companion on either side of him. One fed him food, the other massaged his hand.

  “Welcome to my humble abode, gentlemen. Could I offer you any refreshments before we get started?” Nuis asked.

  “No, thank you.” Torrak replied. He expected some seedy dive, surrounded by a large number of back-up thugs. This new atmosphere unnerved him. “We really would like to get down to business.”

  Nuis eyed Torrak up and down. “Pity,” he mumbled. “As you wish. Shall we move to my office?”

  Both Torrak and Kalil moved to follow him.

  “No, my dear,” Nuis said to Kalil, “You will have to remain here. But don’t worry, Preeaht will take excellent care of you.” At this remark, Kalil turned toward Preeaht, whose grin widened on her golden face.

  “This way,” Preeaht cooed.

  Kalil followed her out of the room, throwing a look of alarm in Torrak’s direction while Nuis guided Torrak to his office. Nuis took a seat behind his desk.

  Black carpet spread across the floor, complimented by shiny, ebony walls. A crimson ceiling contrasted the dark, lit by a sole, pale, golden bulb hanging from the center. The light ca
st a red glow in the creases of Nuis’s face, giving him a fiendish look.

  Torrak felt like he’d entered some sort of circus house.

  “Please, sit.”

  Torrak sat in the large, black chair facing Nuis.

  “Since you are now a guest in my home,” Nuis continued, “I wonder if you’d let me know who told you about me?”

  Torrak hesitated. He wondered if dropping Opute’s name would improve his chances. At this point, he guessed it really didn’t matter. “Ness Opute told me about you.”

  Nuis’s left eyebrow rose. “Interesting.” He paused. “So you’ve come for information. What do you have to offer me in return?”

  “How much do you want?”

  Nuis laughed. “Have you looked around? Money is not a concern for me.”

  Torrak clenched his teeth. He was tired of the strange settings, the false pretenses, and the doubletalk. “No more games. Tell me what you want.”

  “Games, huh? What an interesting notion.” Nuis considered for a moment. He stared at Torrak, his gaze lingering on his young body and lean physique. “Did you see my nah-tsu court outside?”

  “Yes. I noticed it.”

  “Have you ever played before?”

  “A bit, back in school.”

  “Good.” Nuis declared. “I have thought of what you can do for your payment. I have played against everyone in my house and no one has ever beaten me. They may be afraid if they won I would kill them, which may be true, but it takes away from the sport when the other side isn’t playing its best.”

  “You want me to play you in a game of nah-tsu?”

  “Yes, but there are conditions.” Nuis paused as a devious smile spread across his face. “If you win, I will tell you everything I can about this client of mine.”

  “And if I lose?”

  “If you lose, you work for me for one rotation of suns.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Whatever I need you to do.”

  Torrak suddenly felt very uncomfortable at the idea.

  “Do we have a deal?” Nuis asked.

  Torrak thought about it. He used to be captain of the nah-tsu team in school, but he hadn’t played in several years. The idea of losing and being Nuis’s “worker” for the next rotation of suns was not appealing, but he needed to get that information. If he lost, he’d figure something out. He hoped.