At last the hugger rolled to a stop before a sparkling bronze cubic structure of mirrored glass and gleaming metal. She reluctantly refocused her attention on Khilioi’s narration, and with a final pulsing glimmer, the luminous energy of the city released her. Dina heard him say that this was the Aeternan Medical Center and was adjacent to the Visitor Center, where she and Jon would be housed for the length of their visit on Exodus.
Once inside, Khilioi, the metal taps on his boots echoing a drumbeat off the walls, escorted her and Jon into a large white office where two men and a woman waited. The first man was older, of medium height, with an abundance of silver hair which he wore partially tied back behind his head. The hair at the nape of his neck was worn loose and hung below his shoulders. He wore a loose white shirt and trousers. A gold sash around his waist was the sole indicator of his stature as colony administrator. His brown, weathered face reminded Dina of a rose petal, dried and faded, yet still retaining a trace of its original robust color. His eyes, though, were anything but faded. Of a shade just darker than a sea at dawn, they radiated the strength that had once been present in every aspect of his physical being.
The woman, middle-aged, had honey-blond hair styled in a simple but impeccable coif, and rich hazel eyes that showed intelligence. But her expression was stern, and her mouth was the only straight line in a face of gentle curves.
The second man, younger and sporting short, dark hair, was dressed in a similar manner to the corporal, except that an embellished silver sash, instead of burgundy, adorned his chest and waist. No warmth or compassion was apparent in his face. He looked more like a carefully drawn portrait, studied and precise. The mouth wore not even a sham of a smile, and his eyes had a disturbing quality to them. Glass cold, they were as colorless as his sash.
The older man greeted Jon and Dina. “I am Minister Myrr Chandhel. Welcome to Exodus, and thank you for responding to my request so promptly. This is Commander ‘Kaz’ Katzfiel of the Aeternan Enforcement Agency, and Dr. Jalena Lumazi, our chief biotech engineer. I regret bringing you here so soon after your arrival, but there’s just been another . . . incident . . . and we thought it best you be brought up to speed immediately. Come. Doctor, if you would.”
Dr. Lumazi led them to another room. Upon entering, Dina felt a chill slither snakelike down her body from the base of her neck to her toes. In the dull-white room, the only thing that relieved the tallow walls, metal equipment and lights that hung from the ceiling like so many giant silver bulbous-eyed insects, ironically, was the body of their latest victim.
The corpse, enclosed in a clear case, reclined in the middle of the room, a grotesque trophy under glass. Dina studied the man’s face. It was impossible to tell if he had once been handsome or not. Death in his case had not only taken his vitality, but had destroyed all semblance of the person.
The eyes were mercifully closed, but the features were contorted in pain and something else, as if in the moment before his death, he had seen horror beyond words. The mouth was open, and Dina could almost hear the scream of agony that surely must have echoed through the mine’s tunnels. The skull was misshapen, as if squeezed in a vice. She had seen corpses before, but never one like this. She felt the bile rising in her throat, but she fought it down and averted her eyes from the body to regain her composure.
The doctor spoke matter-of-factly. “His name is Gillique Samek, a miner at Dheru Kel. He was found near the mines three days ago. Blunt trauma to each side of the temporal area of his head resulted in skull fracture and subdural hematoma. He died almost instantly. We’re not sure what caused the massive head trauma. No weapons, no evidence, no witnesses have been found. The other miners died in a similar manner.”
Jon and Dina kept their questions to a minimum, and thankfully the briefing was short. She was glad to leave the white room of death and even happier to leave Commander Katzfiel’s presence. His pale eyes unnerved her. When the black pupils shifted in his restless eyes, she thought of tiny black bugs skittering across the chalk-white walls.
When the meeting was over, Khilioi led Jon and Dina across the road to the Visitor Center. The outside air was cool and ice bright after the closed antiseptic air of the Medical Center. This quickly deepened to a dry chill, however, and the change in temperature, coupled with her exhaustion and the memory of the dead miner, threatened again to send her stomach into revolt.
Upon entering the building, Dina felt relief as the warmth of the heated air washed over her, but still she fought to keep from getting sick. Building security heartened her, though, and both she and Jon patiently endured the thorough scans and procedures. Upon completion, both Jon and Dina received key discs from the corporal.
The corporal explained their use. “Long as you’re here, you can come and go into any secured building with a sec level of three or lower using the key discs. They also allow you access to the desert way stations. This building is sec level three, but your rooms, as well as the storage bay to the rear, are sec level four, so you’ll need retina scans as well to get into those areas. Know I don’t have to remind you to be careful with these keys.”
Jon glanced sideways at Dina, and she gave him an answering look. For all his deference, Dina suspected that the corporal resented the Bureau’s interference in local affairs and doubted their ability to solve problems they had no firsthand experience with. As the security door whooshed open, Dina gave Khilioi a smile dazzling enough to rival his own.
Krek, she thought, as she followed him down the corridor. It was an old Glacian word for the spawn of a lower life form.
Their rooms were on the second floor, side by side. Dina entered her suite and, unable to control her nausea any longer, bolted for the bathroom and retched into the sink. At another time she would have been pleased to find a small but comfortable bedroom with a kitchenette, a dressing room, a bathroom, and an inside door connecting the two suites, but for now she was thankful only for privacy and that the day was finally over. Almost. As she leaned over the sink, afraid to move, she heard a soft knock at the connecting door.
“Just a moment,” she called. She quickly rinsed her face and took a small sip of water. She opened her door and, in spite of her exhaustion, felt the familiar jolt of pleasure being face to face with Jon always brought.
Strands of his shoulder-length hair, normally neatly kept, strayed over his green eyes. He was leaning against the doorjamb, and Dina could detect fine lines around his eyes and mouth that weren’t normally there. She realized, with a start, that he was tired, too. Oddly, his appearance didn’t lessen the attraction she felt for him, but served to remind her that he was as human and vulnerable as she was.
“Some arrival, huh?” Jon said. “There should be time to unpack tomorrow. Right now, just get some sleep. I’ll call you at seventh hour mark zero.”
Dina gave him a small smile, nodded, and closed the door. Much as she longed for sleep, there were some things she had no choice but to do before retiring. She logged on to the room’s computer, identified herself, was voice-printed, and assigned her verbal command access code. As always, she used pri as her computer code.
Pri was the endearment her father had used to address her and her mother when Dina was young. He was a wise man and a loving, supportive father, and using his pet name for her as her VCAC always made Dina feel close to him, even when she was far from her home world.
Next she gave verbal commands to program room air and water temperature, wake up time, light levels, and breakfast selection. She laid out an outfit for the upcoming meeting, and when she finally dropped onto the bed, she thought, a little sadly, that she was too tired to even dream about Jon. But she dreamed anyway.
She was lost in the Sea of Glass, floating on an air current high above the sand, buoyed by the heat, mesmerized by the light that shot arrows at her from all directions. She heard faraway laughter, as if the sun, the mighty golden ruler of the s
ky, were sitting back, safe in his heavenly lair, content to let his desert warriors do his cruel bidding.
With a burst of energy, she broke loose and fell, spiraling slowly to the earth. The sinuous curves of the dunes, like ivory arms, beckoned her, and she settled, like a child at its mother’s bosom, between embracing barchans of glittering sand. Shielding her eyes, she ventured a bold glance at the sun, only to have the light blocked by an object which dropped from the sky and wafted languidly down to her, riding the shimmering waves of heat until it came into focus.
Silhouetted by the sun, the huge eagle floated just above her, bolstered by the heat rollers, then descended to the dune sea’s surface, its powerful wings drawing up against its body. Dina watched as the eagle transformed into a man, a man whose face she couldn’t see. A golden mask covered his face. Bronze silk trousers, his only other apparel, billowed around his legs like the red fire of a dying sun. The lone figure seemed to outshine the day star, the sand, and the mirages that melted and reformed in the periphery of her vision.
He called to her, and she answered with a challenge, nevertheless drawn to him. She tried to take a step forward, but the sea held her tightly, and in its grip, a ribbon of fear wrapped itself around her as well.
The man removed his mask and circled her so that the light illuminated his features. The hot breeze lifted mahogany hair away from his face, revealing piercing golden eyes. She called out to him again and tried to move, but the sea sucked at her feet. She heard his laughter once more, rich and ringing, and he glided toward her with the ease of a snake over sand, until he stood before her.
A scythe of shiny hair arced over one amber eye, while other strands caught in the sheen of sweat at his temple and lay trapped against his skin.
Desire and fear clashed within her. Beasts fighting for domination, they butted and twisted until they became one, feeding off each other. Her desire heightened her fear, and her fear sharpened her desire until she could feel hot blood racing through every limb.
He raised both hands to brush the hair away from her face and run the pads of his fingertips down her cheek to her chin. He held her head gently, but in such a way that she could look nowhere except at his face. A line of sweat zigzagged past one eye and crept down his cheek, and she had an overwhelming longing to reach out and touch it.
She slipped an arm up between them and touched his hot skin, rubbing a fingertip across the trail of moisture. His lips parted, full and sensuous, and his face slackened with his need. Her fingers skated upward, and as her hand rose, so did her gaze, until she stared straight into eyes that burned so hot she thought she would burst into flames. Instead, she shivered in the heat, caught by a power in his gaze she didn’t understand. She tipped her head back, still held by his hands, and his hungry mouth fed at hers, sapping her will until her lips parted for him. She clung to him, one hand clutching a fistful of his long hair, the other running over the muscles of his back.
His mouth released hers at last, leaving her gasping for breath. No man had ever made her feel like this, chilled and enflamed; consumed, yet whole; afraid, but fearless. When he removed her tunic, she didn’t protest. Nor did she try to stop him when she felt his hands, cool against the warmth of her breasts. Her body tightened at his touch, her back arching, her nipples hardening when his hands cupped her.
She closed her eyes, and he touched her in a way she had never before been touched. Then she felt his will, more insistent than his lips or hands had been, and suddenly her fear untangled itself from her desire and rose to warn her. What he wanted was too much. She would not submit in that way.
“Mondina . . .” She vaguely heard her name from somewhere high above.
He commanded her and compelled her, but she pushed away from him, screaming at him with words that blazed in the heat, were consumed to ash and lost on the wind.
RAYN’S EARS RANG with her outcries as he withdrew from her mind. He laughed long and easily, knowing Dina would no longer be able to hear him. The test had been an unqualified success.
His mind had injected images into hers that she would interpret as nothing more than a dream, and he was surprised and pleased to find not only such clear reception on her part, but strength of will. He had the power to overcome such will, of course, but she had enough power of her own to make a grand game of it.
Controlling her mind would be a challenge. Her body was another matter entirely. If the dream was any indication of what her physical response to him would be, she was already his.
Two
Exodus
“MONDINA . . . WAKE up, Mondina. The time is sixth hour, mark zero. Wake up, Mondina . . .” lilted the pleasant female voice of the computer. Dina awoke with a start as the lights in the room came on and brightened gradually. Though the room was programmed for a comfortable sleeping temperature, Dina’s body was bathed in sweat, her heart still pounding with the memory of the dream.
She pulled her hair back and rubbed her face. It had been the stranger, the man she had seen on the spacedock. There was no doubt about that. But why? And how had he made such an impression on her that she would dream about him in such an erotic manner? Could this be another symptom of spacefever? This had been a dream, albeit one more realistic than she could ever remember having, but still a dream, not a hallucination. Still, the manifestation of disturbing dreams was one possible sign of fever, and this one was definitely disturbing. She tested her door. It was locked. She was in a secured building. No, there was no way it could have been anything other than just a dream.
Though the erotic dream had been new for her, nightmares were not. While she was working on a case, she usually had work-related ones every night. She chased and was chased. She was fired upon, and she fired at others. Yes, this dream was different.
As she slid out of bed and took a warm shower, she struggled to scrub the images of the man from her mind. She’d anticipated this day for a long time and was eager for it to start on a positive note.
She took the dark bread, fruit, and juice out of the food selector and ate slowly, concentrating on the morning’s itinerary. There would be, of course, the meeting with Chandhel, Katzfiel, and whatever other officials the Minister deemed necessary. She hoped it would be a small group. Too many people would distract her and make it more difficult for her to probe those present.
She took extra time in dressing. She and Jon would be sizing up the Exodan contingent, but it went both ways. She checked herself in the mirror, pleased there were no lines in her face to betray the previous night’s exhaustion. She styled her long hair into a twist and saw clear eyes reflected back at her. The dark circles she had feared would collar her eyes were thankfully absent.
She dressed not in a uniform, but in a suit the color of steel with gold accents, grateful her exercise regimen on board Justitia enabled her to slip perfectly into the fitted jacket and trousers. As a final touch, she slipped her exodite ring onto her middle finger. The marquise cut stone was bezel set horizontally into a band that generously shouldered the top and bottom of the gem with gold. The exodite gem, blazing with silver fire, almost overshadowed the small black pearl burnished deep into the band below one of the points of the gemstone, like a tear to the exodite eye.
She had owned the ring for several years. Her father had presented it as a special gift upon her graduation from the Academy, telling her the stone reminded him of her eyes, fiery and alive, yet far too sad. She had first worn it because it reminded her of her father and made her feel that he was nearby supporting her, no matter how far away she was. Gradually, it had become her anchor for confidence, a directive to her subconscious whenever she began to doubt herself. At those times she would close her eyes, finger the ring, and think of her father’s faith in her. Now, after years of using the ring as her anchor, all she had to do was to look at the exodite eye, and she instantly felt better equipped to tackle whatever problem was at ha
nd. She twisted the ring on her finger now and felt confidence and strength swell inside her.
She smiled again as she thought of the irony. The exodite mines on Exodus were, in fact, the focal point of her assignment. Her token stone the heart of the mystery. She shook her head and glanced one last time in the mirror. She hated to admit it, but she had also dressed with the hope Jon would be pleased with her. She wanted as much to make a good impression on him as on Chandhel. She quickly chided herself. No time now for fantasies.
The computer softly chimed. “Mondina, you have a call waiting from Jon Rzije.” She could feel her pulse race. So much for suppressing fantasies.
“Pri, answer with visual.”
Jon’s handsome face immediately appeared on the monitor. His long, light brown hair was neatly combed for a change, so did not detract from the clean-shaven features. Dina sighed. Dear gods, but he was gorgeous.
“Good Morning, Dina. Are you ready?”
“All set, Jon.”
“Good. Come in, and we’ll compare notes before we call for our escort.”
“On my way. Pri, log off.” Dina took one last look around the room, picked up the slim case containing her notebooks and recorders, and rapped at the connecting door. Jon opened it with a quick verbal command and motioned with his head for her to come inside. He held a steaming cup of mocava in one hand and a sweet twist roll in his mouth, but even so, Dina didn’t miss the attention his eyes paid her, or the slight lift to his brows.
“You look very nice. And very professional,” he said, taking the twist out of his mouth.
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