Romulus had no rational choice but to postpone further discussion until later, and offered Falcon and Steve the use of his private quarters to freshen up while he secured the requested weapon.
Falcon held open the door to the adjoining chamber for Steve. She couldn't have said what she expected, but this certainly wasn't it. The outer room had looked like the office of any American executive, and this room was similar to an efficiency apartment, except for the one entire wall done in some kind of silver metal squares. Come to think of it, the medical facility looked familiar to her, also. Somehow she had imagined it would all be more "outer space." Her momentary disappointment vanished when she heard Falcon talking to a computer and it answered him in a very human voice.
She went to his side to observe his actions more closely. Pictures of a variety of men's clothing flashed continually on the monitor until Falcon made several selections. He then gave the computer instructions as to color and material and stepped back from the screen. A beam of light shot out, quickly scanning him from head to toe, then receded again. A minute later the computer informed him his order was complete, and Falcon opened a small panel in the metal wall.
He pulled out a black shirt, slacks, socks, and shoes, exactly like she had seen him wearing before.
Smiling at her wide eyes, he told her, "This is a supply station. Every residence is equipped with one. It provides food and clothing upon request and stores the used items for recycling. The clothing is deposited in another bin after it is worn."
"You mean it's disposable? You never have to do laundry?" Steve thought it sounded like heaven.
"Also, I remember the machine your mother used to clean the dishes and food preparation containers. The station performs all those functions for you. Are you hungry? I could demonstrate."
Steve was astonished. This was the kind of marvel she had expected to see. "No cooking? No dishes? No laundry? No wonder they don't want us to find out about this place. Every woman in America would defect. How about cleaning? Has that bothersome little chore been done away with, too?"
Falcon laughed. "Not entirely, but an android can be purchased to do whatever needs to be done. Of course, there is no dust here as you have in Outerworld. Our dust has great value because it contains a rare element, nolterrin, which is filtered from the air before it has a chance to settle. It is needed as an energy source here and on Norona. You would like it here, I am certain."
The words were said without thought to any deeper meaning. Steve understood they did not convey a sincere invitation, nor was a response from her expected, but they brought reality back with a thud and the levity of the moment was lost. She could not sense his emotions or hear his thoughts. He had the ability to shut her out at will, but she did not know how to do that herself. His tender expression told her he read her feelings quite accurately.
"You did not answer, Steve. Are you hungry? Or would you like a change of clothes?" He could not deal with everything she was feeling, he was feeling, they were feeling. With each passing hour, it was becoming harder to distinguish between the two. His need to resolve whatever was developing between them was rapidly becoming stronger than his need to complete his assignment.
Steve had heard his questions but hadn't answered. He wouldn't have heard her, she was sure. He was drawn inside himself to a place where she could not go. "No and no."
Falcon blinked.
"I believe you were daydreaming, Falcon," she said lightly to break the tension. "I'm not hungry and Jenny's clothes fit fine."
He nodded distractedly and began unbuttoning George's plaid flannel shirt.
Steve wandered around the small room, then perched on the edge of a chair. She tried to keep her eyes off Falcon, but that was impossible. The more masculine flesh he bared, the more she wanted to see. His unintentional striptease was exactly the kind of distraction her exhausted mind needed.
Falcon knew she watched, but kept his eyes averted. To him, his body was not unique. He had read other females interest when they saw him, but had never been affected by it. Steve made him feel unique, special, beautiful. His body ignored his order not to be aroused, making the process of closing his slacks somewhat difficult. When he turned to look at her again, his discomfort increased.
He held out his hands, and she drifted into his arms. When he drew her closer, lifting her so that her hips were flush against his, she tilted her head back for his kiss.
We can't, she thought miserably, and moved against his hardness.
We must be off, he thought halfheartedly, and repeated her motion.
His lips pressed to hers, and she held him tighter. Their tongues met, and she sucked his deep within her mouth, causing him to make the purring sound that vibrated all the way down to her toes then settled between her legs.
Neither had the will power to pull away on their own, but combined, they managed to remind themselves of their priorities.
Soon. The word was shared between them.
Falcon released Steve with a sigh. Caressing her lips with his fingertips, he teased, "You look like a woman who has been well-pleasured."
In return, she ran her hand down the center of his chest and over the bulge below. "And you look like a man who was not."
* * * *
They were perfectly presentable when they rejoined Romulus and Aster, but Steve felt herself blush anyway when Aster smiled a little too knowingly.
Romulus handed Falcon a black box that looked like a remote control for a television. "This weapon is signed out in your name, and you can use my commuter if you need to. It's parked outside. Be careful and keep us advised. It's impossible to guess what Underwood is up to."
"Good luck," Aster added as Falcon and Steve left the office.
"Well," Steve said in the hallway, "we're on your turf now. What's the plan?"
"We return to the transmigrator station, where I sensed Underwood's aura, and go from there."
Throughout the Administration Building, Steve followed a few steps behind Falcon, but she halted abruptly the moment they exited the enormous structure. For a moment she wondered if she had been transported into a fairy kingdom. Knowing she was in the center of the earth didn't matter. Her senses told her she was outdoors.
The delicious fragrance of lilacs filled her nostrils as her eyes devoured the spectacle around her. Stars shining in the clear blue-black sky were complemented by thousands of twinkling lights set in the trees and bushes. Buildings of various sizes and shapes were separated by parks. Whatever the buildings were made of, they reflected everything around them, like giant mirrors.
Falcon realized she was no longer with him and returned to where she was standing. The awestruck look on her face made him think of her children— all innocence and wonder. "This is different than you imagined?"
"Yes. No, not entirely. It's just so__beautiful,"
she finally said for lack of a better description of her surroundings.
"Would it be possible for you to admire the city and walk with me at the same time? I was tracking Underwood's aura successfully until you stopped. Your distraction somehow affected my concentration."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Falcon. I thought that business you gave Romulus about needing to keep me with you was an alibi for my being here."
"I thought it was at the time. Now I am not certain." He held out his hand. "If you please."
Steve smiled and placed her hand in his. "I'll try to think only about Underwood, but that's a pretty tall order in this setting."
Falcon did not return her smile. His intense expression told her his mind was at work.
"I do not believe the problem was your thoughts." He held her hand up in front of them. "As soon as we touched my concentration returned. In fact, the aura does not seem so faded anymore. Once again, I am unable to explain why or how, but I would appreciate it if you would maintain physical contact with me."
Steve couldn't help but laugh at the serious wording of his request. "My dear sir, it will be my pleasure." Sh
e kissed the back of his hand, then gave him a tug in the direction he had been heading before she stopped.
Falcon quickly regained the lead, firmly pushing aside the nagging concern of what was happening to him and his talents.
The black aura had begun to disintegrate, but as he held Steve's hand, he was able to track it to the library a few blocks away from the Administration Building. At the door he sensed both the weak traces he had been tracking and a vivid twin. It told him Underwood had gone into the building and remained there throughout the day, then left no more than a few hours ago. By touching the chair Underwood had vacated, Falcon heard a replay of his conversation with Delphina.
"Underwood has no intention of remaining in Innerworld. He came here to steal two things. The first—knowledge—he was able to obtain from the computer files. The second will be much more difficult. They have gone to Gladly, a mining camp some distance away. I assume he will try to pilfer a quantity of volterrin, for he has learned how valuable an energy source it is. He may already be there. Come, we need Romulus's permission to migrate to the camp." He saw Steve's grimace and tapped her nose with his forefinger. "Now you know how I felt on that airplane to Miami!"
Chapter Twenty
Evil often triumphs, but never conquers. —Joseph Roux
"Yuk!" Steve sneered at the flat, desert-like landscape. "I can't believe this is part of the same world. What're those ugly metal sculptures over there? Fences?"
"Those are the filters that collect the dust. It is necessary to the collection process that the camps be as obstruction-free as possible. Trees, plants, and decorative buildings are a hindrance here. I understand your curiosity, Steve, but perhaps you could curb it slightly. It is most distracting and I do not seem to have the power to close you out as easily as I once did."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She took a deep breath and grasped Falcon's hand. "Okay. Back to work. Is he here?"
"You tell me. Remember the sensation of darkness when King was approaching? Underwood's aura is much stronger, blacker."
Steve hesitated, surprised to discover she had unconsciously been blocking it out. She could stop something from entering her head and let it in when and if she chose. How simple it really was, like opening and closing a window! Only days ago she thought of mental telepathy as little more than an interesting topic of conversation. Now, she was not only communicating with her mind, she was reading other people's emotions as if they were her own, and had even picked up an aura of someone she couldn't see.
There was no doubt Falcon was responsible for these changes, but her easy acceptance of these skills and innate knowledge of how to utilize them was bewildering. Rather than being shocked as she supposed she should be, it all seemed perfectly natural. She had the oddest feeling that the ability to use her mind in these ways had always been there, but had never been exercised.
Testing this newest awareness, she pictured herself opening that mental window.
Anger, hatred, blackest evil assailed her from every angle, poking, prodding, tearing at her flesh. She cried out in fear and revulsion. The evil took a human form but not entirely. Its golden cat's eyes were sly and wicked. It's wild mane of hair became a nest of hissing snakes that struck and coiled around her, imprisoning her securely in the demon's trap. Her fists beating against her captor, she frantically struggled to break its hold. Tongues of white-hot fire licked at her feet, enveloped her ankles, her legs. In a moment she would be consumed and become a part of the evil.
"Steve! Stop it. Stop the fear!" Falcon shook her, gripping her so hard he knew she would be bruised, but she fought to escape him as one demented, as if he were death itself. He invaded her mind, careful to keep his own protected from whatever images tortured her.
Break away, Steve. Not with your body. It is your mind that is being held. Close the window. You can do it.
But she couldn't—not alone. Falcon joined his strength to hers, and together they banished the overwhelming darkness.
Steve's body wilted in Falcon's arms. Trembling from head to toe, it was all she could do not to cry. She had never been so terrified in her life. She sniffed and pulled herself together. "I guess I haven't got the hang of it yet." Her attempt at a smile didn't quite make it.
Falcon took a shaky breath and hugged her gently. Rotating his thumbs over her upper arms, he withdrew the discomfort he had caused. "Please forgive my error in judgment. I should not have suggested you reach out for something that powerful when this is so new to you. It seems so natural for you to share my abilities, I did not consider how it would affect you."
Steve tilted her head back. "That's strange. Just before it happened I was thinking how natural it felt to do these things. I guess I got cocky. What I felt, or saw, or whatever, was that Underwood's aura?"
"It is his essence, what motivates him. I perceived it in a different form than you. Each person's fear comes in an individual package. Because I knew what to expect, I could view it without giving it access to my mind. I had assumed you would only sense it through me and feel only what I feel. What happened is . . .improbable."
Steve accepted his warmth for a few more heartbeats before she gave into the anxiety nagging at her. Hers? His? It didn't matter. She eased away from Falcon and straightened her shoulders.
"Okay. What now?"
"He is in that building. We will request the assistance of the guards to ensure he does not slip away again."
Steve felt her system's adrenaline replenishing itself. She forced herself to stand by patiently during Falcon's explanations to the two black-uniformed men. One guard recognized Falcon, which sped the matter up considerably. Both men removed a small black box from their belts as they strode away. Steve wondered what sort of weapon it was, and whether she would see it used in the next few minutes.
When the guards disappeared around the rear of the building, Falcon nodded to Steve. "It is time to bring the hunt to an end."
"Just tell me what you want me to do."
"I believe you have an appropriate, but illogical, expression to fit the occasion: "Play it by ear."
Steve winked at him. "Gotcha."
In spite of the way they casually approached the entrance of the dormitory, Steve's heart thudded in her chest. Falcon stepped in front of her and cautiously opened the door.
Several faces turned their way as they entered. Only one distorted in fury.
Gordon Underwood jackknifed up from the chair in which he had been lounging next to Delphina. "You! How..." His gaze darted wildly from Falcon to Steve. "You're dead! This isn't possible!" He took a step sideward and groped for Delphina's hand, urging her to stand beside him without taking his eyes off Falcon.
Steve had witnessed other men in similar situations. At this point they were sweating bullets, but this was not an average man. Although momentarily flustered, he quickly regained his cool, sophisticated facade. He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin, daring any inferior being to touch him.
The other inhabitants of the room scrambled away from the four participants, remaining close enough to watch the drama without risk of becoming a player. It reminded Steve of a saloon scene in a bad western, but instead of brandishing six-shooters, Falcon had his weapon neatly concealed in the palm of his hand. He didn't need to wave a gun to look threatening. His expression, his stance, his entire being bespoke of leashed danger and confident power.
Steve remained stationed in the entranceway, as Falcon inched closer to Underwood.
"I'm quite curious,'' Underwood ventured conversationally. "Perhaps you would be considerate enough to explain how the two of you managed to follow me."
"No." Falcon advanced another foot.
The big man narrowed his brows. "I see. But at least tell me what you did with King and Mr. Nesterman. I had grown somewhat fond of them both."
"Nesterman is free. King is dead."
"Dead?" He looked surprised, then turned to Steve. "I've studied these aliens. They are opposed to violence. Did you kill King?"
<
br /> Falcon answered for her. "He ended his own life."
"Tch-tch. How very Oriental of him. I suppose he thought it was what he deserved for failing his master. So now, what is it you think I deserve?"
"You will be punished for your crimes against the people of Innerworld. More than a thousand innocents died because of your interference."
Underwood chuckled lightly. "Yes, I read about that. A shame, but it was accidental. I have also read about your ideas of punishment. Reprogramming is so much more civilized than execution. However, I'm afraid I can't oblige your sense of righteousness. I have some pressing business matters to attend to back home."
With a vicious jerk, Underwood positioned Delphina in front of him, twisting her arm up her back and circling her throat with his other hand. He started backing up to the rear door of the building, when Falcon moved again. "Don't take another step. You may not believe in violence, but I do, and I will not hesitate to hurt this pretty lady if I have to. I could break her neck with one snap, but I won't— yet. I'll just tighten my fingers, little by little, slowly shutting off her breath. An agonizing way to go I assure you, and her pain would be your doing. Ah, but there's the rub, isn't it? You're not permitted to cause another person pain. Too bad. Well, we must be going now. Say good-bye, Delphina."
"Good-bye," she whispered obediently.
Steve wanted to do something, stop him herself if she had to. But Falcon was ordering her to wait, to be still. She did not dare open herself to Underwood's emotions, but through Falcon she knew the man was not as calm as he appeared. He was grasping for straws. There was nowhere in either world he could go where they would not follow.
Topaz Dreams Page 26
