by Nina Croft
At the far side of the table, there were two vacant seats next to each other, and he and Dylan made their way across the room, his skin twitching as all eyes focused on them.
While the table was round, it was clear who sat at the head. All the chairs were identical, except for one directly opposite where Milo now sat—it was bigger, the back reaching upward like some sort of throne. The man sitting in it was blond with piercing blue eyes. He was also the only other person at the table who was not in uniform.
This must be Luther Kinross, the man responsible for arranging the meeting.
At that moment, Kinross rose to his feet. He was a tall man who exuded a presence. Milo took an instant dislike to him, but that was pretty much normal. He didn’t like many people.
“Welcome to Trakis Four and the initial meeting of the Council for the Advancement of Mankind. Thank you for taking the time to attend. I hope we will all find it beneficial. First though, I think we need to take a moment to pray for the tragic loss of the Trakis One and all on board. And to that purpose, I will hand you over to Captain Aaron Sekongo of the Trakis Four, and the new head of the Church of Everlasting Life.”
“Brilliant,” Milo muttered. “Have I mentioned I hate the goddamned church?”
“You have.”
The man in the seat next to Kinross rose to his feet. Tall, he wore a red shirt, and he had dark brown skin and dark brown eyes.
“Let us pray.”
Everyone bowed their heads, except Milo and—he noticed—Kinross. The other man caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow.
Milo let the words wash over him as he worked out a plan of action. They needed to discover where the cargo of the Trakis Four was being stored. What, if any, weapons Kinross had access to. He was guessing that if there were weapons then they would likely be stored in this building. So he needed to do a search.
Finally, the prayer ended.
“May God have mercy on their souls,” Sekongo said.
“Amen,” everyone replied collectively.
Sekongo sat down and Kinross spoke again. “We owe it to all those who lost their lives to make the survival of humanity our priority, so their sacrifice will not have been in vain.”
Beside him, Dylan gave a snort of disbelief. “Sacrifice? It was hardly voluntary.”
“In these sad times,” Kinross continued, “we need to come together and work as a team. We all need to understand our strengths, and our roles, if we’re going to succeed.”
“And I’m guessing someone needs to be in charge,” Dylan murmured from beside him. “And Mr. Kinross no doubt believes he’s the man for the job.”
Kinross was welcome to it as far as Milo was concerned. He wasn’t looking to be in charge of anything. He just wanted to get this job done, return to Trakis Two, and start work on that new world. His version of it.
Was it possible? A world where he and others like him didn’t have to hide their true natures? Certainly not on this planet, where clearly the Church already had a foothold.
Kinross was still talking. Hopefully Dylan was paying attention, because Milo had tuned the voice out. He wanted to go and have a look around. Part of their job here was to work out exactly what Kinross wanted and whether they were going to at least make the pretense of going along with him. But he suspected Kinross was hardly going to reveal his true endgame at this meeting. They’d have to discover that some other way.
The other—more interesting—part was to determine what, if anything, Kinross was capable of if they refused to play his game.
Who was he exactly? Milo had done some research, but there was very little to be found out about the man. He wasn’t crew. He was one of the Chosen Ones, so how had he managed to be woken up and seemingly take charge in the span of four weeks? It must have been well organized. Likely he had Captain Sekongo of the Trakis Four on his payroll or at least somehow under his control. Maybe with promises that the Church would play an important role in the leadership of the new colony.
That had presumably taken some detailed planning. So what else had Kinross planned? What did he have to back up his bid for leadership?
Dylan nudged him in the side. “Are you listening to this?”
“No. Give me the highlights.”
“He wants confirmation of everything on board the Trakis Two so they can evaluate where those items can be most effectively utilized. I’m guessing Rico isn’t going to be too happy about that. He’s not really into sharing.”
“He can always lie.”
“Apparently, Kinross has the manifests for all the ships. Where the hell did he get that information?”
Damn. “Likely paid someone for it.”
“But how? This must have been arranged even before he left Earth. That’s scarily efficient.”
Milo had come to the same conclusion. He shook his head, then realized Kinross had stopped talking. Milo glanced across to find his attention, and the rest of the room’s, on him and Dylan. Had they heard anything they were saying?
“Is there something you would like to share?” Kinross asked.
God, it was like being back in school, or how he imagined that would be. He’d never actually gone to school—one of the results of being brought up under the guardianship of a vampire. “Not right now,” he said. “But if I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
After that, he tried to pay attention, but there was a lot of stuff about waking up the Chosen Ones…who should be woken and when. Rations and equipment to be handed out. Blah, blah, blah. Work rotas and building schedules.
Milo bit back a yawn. Christ, this was boring. He needed to get the hell out of here. His mind drifted to the woman he’d spotted that morning watching him from the Trakis Four.
There had been strength to her features. Short blond hair, strong cheekbones, a wide mouth. She’d been staring at him as though she wanted to jump his bones right then and there. And she was welcome to—after all, he hadn’t been laid in over five hundred years.
Maybe he’d look her up. There must be someone who would know who she was. She’d been with a woman in a red shirt. A scientific officer? He could start there.
“What are you smiling about?” Dylan asked.
“Nothing. Interesting meeting.”
“Liar.” He grinned. “You’ll tell me later.”
“Actually, I won’t.”
At that moment everyone around them stood up and started clapping. Hopefully, that signaled the end of the meeting. He stood up as well and clapped so he blended in—no one could say he wasn’t making an effort.
“We can go now?” Milo said.
Dylan shook his head. “There’s a dinner. Time to get acquainted with each other. Don’t you want to get acquainted with your new friends, Milo?”
“No.”
Dylan laughed then broke it off. “Look out, the big man is heading our way.”
Kinross came to stand beside him. He shook Dylan’s hand and then Milo’s. He tried to get a sense of the man, but Kinross wasn’t giving anything away.
“Good to meet you,” Kinross said. “But I’m interested, Mr.…?”
“Call me Milo.”
“I’m interested, Milo, as to why you were chosen as the representative for Trakis Two. As you can see”—he waved a hand around the room—“most of the representatives are crew members. Except for yourself.”
“And you,” Milo felt he had to point out.
Kinross smiled, though his expression was thoughtful. “All the same, I’m interested to know why you’re here.”
Nosy bastard. “You’ll have to ask the captain that.”
“Captain Sanchez, I believe? I’m afraid I don’t know the man. And I thought I knew all the captains.”
No doubt he had a list of them as well. “I’m sure he’d be delighted to talk to you.”
Dylan coug
hed at that, to hide his laughter, and Kinross’s eyes sharpened.
“And you, Mr. Kinross,” Milo said, “how did you find yourself not only on the council but seemingly in charge?”
The man smiled. “Just luck, I guess.”
Milo seriously doubted this man left anything to luck.
“Now, I must talk to the rest of my guests,” Kinross said. “Please make yourselves at home.”
“Gracious, isn’t he?” Dylan said as they watched his retreating back.
“I don’t like him,” Milo replied.
“I heard you don’t like anybody.”
“Maybe…” He thought about it but was unable to come up with a name of anyone he truly liked. “I’m going to take a look about the place. See if I can find out what’s going on around here. If anyone asks, tell them I came over all faint and had to lie down.”
“Okay. I’ll have a chat with the captain of the Trakis Four. Perhaps he’ll talk about Kinross. Don’t get caught.”
“I’ll do my best.” The room was filling up. More people in uniform, probably the crew of the Trakis Four. And maybe the Trakis Five, the ship that had collected them all from their new planets and brought them here.
Kinross was across the room, deep in conversation with a man in a yellow shirt. Off to the side, a woman was watching them. He looked closer and recognized her from that morning, the scientific officer. He glanced around the room but failed to see the blonde anywhere. She hadn’t been in uniform, though, so maybe she didn’t get an invite.
He nodded to Dylan, then slipped out of the room and back into the front hallway. There was no one in sight, but he didn’t want to linger. At one end of the hall, a staircase led upward, and a number of doors exited off the hallway. He tried the closest, and it opened to his touch but led into an empty room. So did the next. The third door he tried was locked. He whispered a spell and the lock clicked open. Without his wand, his magic was limited to simple tricks and glamors, but still sufficient to unlock a door. It opened into a stairwell that led downward, underground.
If Kinross was going to hide any deep dark secrets, or any weapons, underground sounded like an excellent hiding place.
The staircase was narrow, and at the bottom another door led into a corridor, lit with a dull orange glow.
Had they dug the tunnels as they built? He didn’t think so. While the walls were smooth, excavated out of the ocher rock, the place didn’t feel as though it had been dug only days ago, but rather, as though it had existed for a long time. Maybe that was why Kinross had built here.
Up ahead, he heard voices and he went still. He turned, but there were voices behind him as well. Looking around, he could see nowhere to hide. He hurried on, the voices getting louder, until he came to a metal door with a grill. He pushed, but it was locked, and he repeated his spell and slipped into the room.
And came to an abrupt halt.
He wasn’t alone.
Chapter Seven
“I was delighted to see you again and forgot for the moment that all happiness is fleeting.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
Destiny lay curled up on the bed. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Left alone, she’d explored the confines of her new home, which had taken all of thirty seconds. It consisted of this small room and an even smaller bathroom. No shower, just a toilet and a sink.
She was a prisoner. Locked in a cell. But she hadn’t done anything wrong.
For a brief moment, rage had woken inside her and risen to the surface. She’d thrown back her head and screamed. It made no difference, though. If anyone had heard, they’d ignored her.
Now the anger had faded and despair tugged at her mind. She tried to banish it. Things were what they were; you had to accept and make the most of them. There was a good reason she was here. It was for her own protection.
I am important.
But that brief interlude in the sunlight had changed everything.
If only she understood things better, then she might find her circumstances easier to accept. Dr. Yang had always said that she wanted to know too much. That she didn’t need to know everything. She should just accept the way things are.
She squeezed her eyes shut. In her mind she saw the bird flying high. Free. Then she saw the man from the shuttle. His silver eyes staring into hers. She had a flashback to the way he had made her feel. Strange and tingly and as though she might burst into a thousand pieces.
She wanted a chance to explore the feelings growing inside herself. She wasn’t naive enough to believe in love at first sight. But she’d felt so alive.
A grating sound at the door made her bolt upright on the bed, her eyes opening.
And there he was. In the dim orange light, he was unmistakable. She stared. Had her brain somehow conjured him up? Was this just her imagination playing tricks with her? She pressed her fingers to her eyes, but he was still there when she opened them again.
He raised a finger to his lips.
Even in her limited experience, she knew what that meant. He wanted her to be quiet, and she clamped her mouth closed on the questions that tried to tumble out. Then he stepped to the side of the door and pressed himself back against the wall.
Now that the immediate shock had faded, she could hear footsteps approaching, boots thudding against the hard floor outside her cell. Lots of boots. Her gaze flashed from the man, to the door, and then back to him. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
Why didn’t he want whoever was approaching to know he was there?
Who was he?
Was he dangerous, or was he the one in danger?
And how had he gotten through the locked door?
A face appeared at the grill; eyes stared into the room, but whoever it was said nothing. She looked back and stayed silent. The face vanished, but more footsteps passed. Her gaze darted around the room, always coming back to the man. Dr. Yang had told her she was here for her own protection. Did this man mean her harm? But if so, he didn’t appear to be in any hurry.
“Can you look?” he said. “Tell me what you see?” The words were quietly spoken but still she jumped. Then she got to her feet and crossed the room, peered out between the bars.
“There are men carrying boxes.” As she watched, one of them came back in the opposite direction. He wasn’t carrying anything. “And they’re returning without them.”
“What sort of men?”
She glanced at him. “Are there different sorts?”
He shook his head then paused for a second. “What are they wearing?”
“Dark green jumpsuits.”
“Are they armed?”
She put her face to the grill and studied one of the passing men. “They have pistols in holsters at their waists. But I can’t tell what kind.”
“Okay. Well, I guess you’ve got company until they finish hiding whatever it is they’re hiding down here. We might as well get comfortable.”
He sank to the floor and sat with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. She realized he couldn’t be seen down there if anyone looked in through the door.
“You don’t want them to know you’re here?”
“Hell, no.”
“You speak strangely,” she said.
He grinned and something inside her warmed. “I’ve made worse first impressions, so I’ll take it.” He pulled a metal flask from inside his jacket, unscrewed the top, and held it out to her.
She looked at it distrustfully. Her diet had always been carefully monitored, but now she had the sudden urge to break the rules. Just little ones. She edged closer and took the flask. Their fingers touched and she almost leaped back. But she held her ground, brought the flask to her lips, and took a gulp. Fire filled her mouth, burning down her throat. She choked, squeezed her eyes shut, waited for
the pain to stop.
Had he poisoned her?
Dr. Yang would be very upset if she’d allowed herself to be poisoned. That wasn’t part of the plan. Not that she knew of, anyway.
“You’ve killed me,” she wheezed.
She heard a chuckle.
He was laughing at her pain? But then the pain was receding, and she opened her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t going to die after all. She looked at him curiously, then handed the flask back. He took a deep swallow—so, not poison—and then held it out to her again, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
She took it slowly, raised it to her mouth and swallowed. Not so bad this time, and she smiled. “What is it?”
“Whiskey. Homemade.”
She took another sip.
“Hey, be careful with that stuff. It will knock you out if you drink too much too fast.”
She handed back the flask and perched on the end of the bed—she was feeling a little unsteady now. From here, though, she could safely watch him. She wanted to make the most of this meeting. “Who are you?”
“Milo.”
“I saw you this morning, Milo.”
“I know,” he said. “I caught you staring.”
“You’re very beautiful.”
He laughed. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He studied her, his head cocked to one side, a frown between his eyes. “You look…familiar. Have we met before? On Earth perhaps?”
“I’ve never been to Earth.”
“Everyone’s been to Earth. Or rather comes from Earth.”
“Not me. I was born on the Trakis Four.”
“Really?” He didn’t sound as though he believed her. “So what did you do to get locked up down here?”
