Close Contact(An Alien Affairs Novel Book 2)

CHAPTER 7




“Treya told me what happened,” Marcus said, sliding a plate of food in front of me. We were in the small kitchen of his house, awaiting the commander’s arrival before heading off to the Bashalde gathering.

“Did she?” I toyed with the food, too tired to eat. It had been a strange night, full of odd dreams I couldn’t quite remember. But it felt as if I’d gone on a four-day trek with no sleep and had just returned. “I’m sorry if I caused a problem.”

“No problem at all.” He dug into his own food with gusto. “You were absolutely right, even by Madrean standards. As far as anyone knows, you’re my ward, and as much as I care about her, Treya is an employee. I can make her behave, but unfortunately, I can’t stop her jealousy. You’ll have to deal with that on your own.”

“Uh-huh.”

At my lackluster response he set his fork aside and arched a brow at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired.” I forced myself to take a bite of the food.

“Is something wrong with your bed?”

“No, no, the bed is fine. My dreams made me restless, that’s all.”

“I see.” He pushed back from the table and went to the counter, where he poured water into a glass, then added some powdery concoction from a jar that sat on a shelf near the stove. After a quick stir, he handed it to me. “Drink this.”

I took the glass and sniffed its contents. It didn’t smell horrible, but it did make my senses whirl. “What is it?”

“A potion I keep handy. Make it myself from local herbs. It should make you feel better.”

“Well, I’m all for feeling better.” First, I sipped gingerly, then drank heavily when I caught the pleasant, smoky taste. Immediately I felt warm, soothing energy flow through me. “That’s amazing,” I told him. “You should bottle this stuff.”

“Wouldn’t sell, I’m afraid.” He resumed his seat and nonchalantly picked up his fork. “It only works on people in the first stages of verge sickness, and has no effect on anyone else.”

I’d been reaching for my own fork when he dropped that verbal bomb. Now I sat frozen, my hand suspended over the utensil as I stared at him. “What? What are you talking about? I’m not sick, I never get sick. I was just tired from a restless night, that’s all.”

“You’re in the first stages of verge sickness, Echo. I’ve seen it before. And as long as you keep denying your psi ability, the sickness will continue to get worse. Soon, very soon, my potion won’t help you anymore.”

“He’s right,” Lillith interjected. “It’s a well-documented reaction among those with psi ability.”

“I don’t believe you, either of you.” The heat from my coffee mug drew me and I wrapped suddenly icy hands around it. “I’m thirty cycles. If I have psi ability, why would it wait until now to manifest?”

“Normally, it wouldn’t.” Marcus finished eating and pushed his plate aside. “And we don’t think it did this time. Lillith and I believe you’ve always had it, but something happened that made you suppress not only the ability, but even the memory of having it. Close and constant contact with the Imadei has made it surface again.”

“In that case, I’ll just stop wearing the Imadei.” He watched with interest as I fumbled for the chain, pulled the stone from under my silk top. And then winced in agony as I tried to place it on the table.

I couldn’t stand it. Without any conscious decision on my part, I put the necklace back on and tucked the stone out of sight before breathing a sigh of relief.

And then blinked at Marcus in surprise. “I’m doomed,” I told him.

His mouth kicked up on one side. “I wouldn’t go that far. All you have to do is start using your ability and the verge sickness will go away.”

“How am I supposed to do that? Assuming I really do have psi ability, how do I use it when I don’t know what it is?”

Before he could answer me, Peri zoomed into the room, landed on the table and stared at the front door, her entire body vibrating with anticipation. A second later, someone knocked.

“We’ll continue this conversation tonight,” Marcus said as he moved to open the door. “Commander, you’re right on time. Please come in.”

Hastily I ran my fingers through my wild hair and plastered a smile on my face.

“Your heartbeat just accelerated to an alarming degree,” Lillith told me.

“Go away and leave me alone,” I subvocalized, stepping forward to meet Reynard. He reached for my hand, and when his larger, calloused palm closed around my fingers, I not only forgot my aversion to having my hands held, I almost forgot what I was going to say. “Commander, thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to escort us. Would you like a cup of coffee before we leave?”

“Thank you for the offer, but we should be off.” He smiled down at me. “I spoke with Chief Lowden about you before our meeting yesterday. He’s anxious to meet the daughter of his old teacher. So is King Politaus, who also knew your father. Unfortunately, he won’t be at the gathering today. Instead he requests that you and Kent join him for the evening meal at week’s end.”

“We’d be delighted.” I saw Marcus arch a brow at my rapid response. “Tell Marcus this could be my chance to meet Braxus,” I told Lillith.

“Not to mention spend more time with the commander,” she shot back.

There was that, I thought with a smile as I took the commander’s outstretched arm and let him escort me through the door. It took a great deal of effort not to run my hand over the hard muscles in his forearm.

“How far is it to the gathering?” I asked him as Peri did loops around us and Marcus brought up the rear.

“Within walking distance,” he said. “The Bashalde always set their tents in the field behind the castle.”

Made sense, I decided. And now that I looked around, people were converging on the castle from all directions: men, women, and children alike. Most were walking, but a few rode horses, with other equines following them on leading ropes. Occasionally, a wagon holding an entire family or produce creaked by, the horses’ harness jingling as they easily pulled the load. There was a festive air about the population that even the women’s drab clothing couldn’t dampen.

Two giggling young boys darted by, clutching coins tightly in their fists. They paused to ogle Peri in awe before dashing ahead.

I watched them vanish into the crowd in front of us, then reached down and checked the small coin pouch attached to my belt. Marcus had given it to me first thing this morning. I’d been loath to take it, but he assured me I’d earned it the night before. Plus, anything extra I spent would be reimbursed by Alien Affairs, and I really did need more clothes.

Marcus moved up to walk beside us. “I know it’s been less than a day, Commander, but have your men found anything yet?”

“I’m afraid not,” Reynard answered. “There are so many people in the city for the gathering that finding one particular stranger will be almost impossible. Especially without a good description. But I’ve ordered them to keep their ears open for any rumors concerning your ward.”

“Please, call me Echo,” I told him, my stomach doing a quick flip when he smiled at me.

“In that case, you must call me Reynard.”

“Reynard.” I gave him a quick grin. “It’s such a strong name. Your mother must have been very pleased at your birth, to give you such a name.”

“Stop flirting,” Lillith ordered.

“Shut up, you old cow,” I told her and received an indignant gasp in response.

“I don’t know,” the commander was saying. “I never knew my parents. The king’s mother found me wandering alone when her company passed through a village near Bastion City, and she had me brought to the castle to serve as a companion to her son.”

“You have no relatives?”

“None that came forward to claim me.”

I tried to picture him as a lost little boy no one wanted and my stomach clenched for a different reason this time. “You must have been very lonely.”

One broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “There were compensations. I benefited from the same education given the king, and we became fast friends. His family saved me.”

No wonder he was so loyal to the king.

By now we’d reached the castle and started around it. Marcus had joined a group of men in front of us, close enough to preserve his position as chaperone, but far enough away to give us some room to chat. Peri was off hovering over a batch of flowers.

“What of you?” Reynard asked. “You must have been lonely growing up without friends.”

Immediately, an image of small, delicate Pelga flashed through my mind. What the hell was going on with my memory? I hadn’t thought about Pelga since I’d left the crèche, and now she seemed to be constantly in my thoughts.

I shoved her visage away and concentrated on weaving my lies together. “Not really. You don’t miss what you’ve never known, and I had my father. He was parent, teacher, and playmate, all rolled into one.”

“You must miss him terribly.”

“Yes, but his illness was progressive, so I had time to prepare for his loss.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when we rounded the end of the castle. My reaction to the sight spread out in front of us almost gave me away.

“Oh!” I gasped in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”

Realizing too late what I’d said, I shot Reynard a glance from under my lashes. “This is the first time I’ve seen a full gathering,” I explained. “My father refused to go. He hated crowds.”

The castle sat on a slight rise that sloped gently down to an eight-hectare field, giving us a view of the entire gathering all at once. Silk tents in every color known to man undulated softly in the gentle spring breeze. They took up the entire open area, stretching from tree line to tree line.

A small stream wound its way across the field and around tents, sunlight glinting off its rushing water. It was spanned in several locations by rustic wooden foot bridges that gave access to both sides of the meadow, while trees growing here and there on its banks offered cooling shade.

From all directions rose the faint sound of voices hawking wares, overlaid by the tinkle of distant music. The air was redolent with the spicy scent of cooking food that made my mouth water even though I’d only finished eating a short while before.

It was a sensory overload for a GEP used to mile-high plexisteel buildings, plascrete walkways and canned air. The only grass on Centaurius was in state-supervised parks, and the rules governing their use were strict to the point of being prohibitive. You could look but not touch, and until now that had been fine with me. Nowhere on Centaurius did anything remotely like this mad chaos of color and humanity exist. Even our parties were stately and formal and I was filled with an inexplicable sense of loss.

Maybe I had a tiny bit of nature girl in me after all, although I wasn’t going to get carried away and actually touch dirt.

The commander was watching me closely, his crystal eyes entirely too knowledgeable, so I cleared my throat and gestured at the mayhem below us. “Which tent belongs to Chief Lowden?”

“His is the large green and gold one in the center of the field. The slightly smaller tents scattered around it belong to the heads of families.”

From the data I’d studied on board Lillith, there were fourteen Bashalde “families” on Madrea, and their heads made up the Bashalde council. They were the ones who upheld tribal laws, settled disputes among their families, and advised the chief, although Lowden had the last word on any larger issues that might arise. The Bashalde also controlled the majority of the sunstone deposits.

A million questions crowded my mind as I studied the tents, like what the treaty with the king involved and were there any current disputes between the two groups, not counting the wars they’d waged against each other in the past. But asking Reynard would expose how very little I knew of what was supposed to be my own people, so I tucked them away for later discussion with Marcus.

As we crossed the first bridge to merge with the crowd, Peri returned to perch on my shoulder. The silly creature trilled a musical greeting to everyone we passed, drawing even more attention than she normally would. So many people stopped to gawk that we caused a jam in the flow of foot traffic.

Hush, I told her. We’re supposed to be inconspicuous, not putting on a show.

With a rebellious ruffling of her feathers, she settled down to watch a colorfully dressed man juggling balls, her head tilting from one side to the other as she studied him, her curiosity flowing over me in waves. For that matter, I was curious, too. He was the first male Bashalde I’d seen and I couldn’t help noticing how strikingly attractive he was with his dark looks and slim build.

He caught me staring and winked, his ebony eyes flashing with merriment. Beside me, Reynard stiffened just enough for me to notice. When I glanced up to see what the problem was, I discovered him glaring a warning at the juggler.

Chuckling, the man turned back to entertain the group that gathered around him, seemingly paying no attention to the coins being dropped into a cup near his feet.

Could it be that the commander was jealous? A warm rush of happiness set my blood singing, but it faded quickly when I realized his protective stance might have more to with my unknown stalker than lust for my person.

As if to verify my suspicion, Marcus waited for us to catch up with him and then fell into place on my left. Since the commander was with us, he’d given Bim the day off from his guard duty.

“There’s an excellent garment maker just ahead,” he told me. “If you’d like, we can get that out of the way so you can enjoy the rest of the gathering.”

When I replied in the affirmative they steered me to an open booth with a small red-and-white tent behind it. A middle-aged woman, slim and pretty, glanced in our direction and then put down her sewing and came to greet us with a smile. “Marcus, I hoped you’d come to the gathering today. I have a package for Treya. You can pick it up when you’re ready to leave.”

“I’ll be happy to.”

The smile he gave her was that of a man very familiar with the woman he was aiming it at, and I took a closer look. Did I say she was pretty? Striking would be more apt, with a single lock of stark white forming a widow’s peak in an otherwise inky sea of thick, shiny hair.

“In the meantime,” he continued, “I’d like you to meet my ward, Echo. She’s in need of new clothing, so of course I brought her to you. Echo, this is Cammi, the best garment maker around.”

Her gaze shifted to me and I nearly squirmed under the close scrutiny of her clear hazel eyes. “So, this is the one that’s set tongues wagging throughout the gathering.”

“And what are they saying?” the commander asked, retaining possession of my hand by the simple expedient of placing his free one over mine.

I saw Cammi take in the gesture before she looked up to meet Reynard’s steady gaze. “Many things, Commander. Some say no Bashalde girl should be the ward of a Gadjee when her own kind would happily find a place for her. Others speak of August, her father, and his skill with arms, wondering if he broke tradition and taught his daughter to fight. Some, like me, remember Rilyana, her mother. I imagine everyone at the gathering knows she’s here by now and will be trying to get a look at her.”

She glanced back at me. “I knew your mother when we were children, before she met and married August.” Once again her gaze skimmed my face. “You don’t look much like her, or your father either.”

“Think fast!” Lillith hissed in my ear.

But I’d already prepared for this eventuality and didn’t even hesitate. “I’m afraid I don’t remember my mother. She died while I was very young. But my father always said I looked like his mother.”

“August had a mother?” She snorted delicately. “I always thought the man was spawned by Invet’s demon horde. No offense intended, of course.” This time she smiled. “It’s just that he was so silent, and so deadly, it was hard to think of him as human. But enough chatter from me.” With a graceful wave she indicated the piles of material and leather scattered around the booth. “Let’s find something you like and then I’ll get your measurements.”

With a mixture of reluctance and relief, I eased my hand from under the commander’s and joined her. We wandered the aisles, stopping now and then to discuss colors and fabrics. Before we were done, I chose red silk for a top with matching red leather for the skirt’s waistband. And then to be on the safe side, I picked another set in emerald green.

We were on our way to the tent so she could measure me when I spotted a glimmer of rich purple sitting alone on a table and paused. Noting my sudden interest, she picked the material up, shifting it slightly so I wouldn’t miss the silver threads sparkling in its depths.

“Can you make it into a costume for my dancing?” I asked, breathless with longing as I stared at the shimming translucent material.

“Of course.” She smiled. “And the color is perfect for you. It makes your eyes turn violet.”

Not to mention it matched Peri’s feathers. But I hesitated. “How much?” I had to force the words from my reluctant throat.

“For you, nothing. Since it’s to be a costume, I’ll charge the price to Marcus.” She patted my arm. “Don’t worry, he can afford it.”

I glanced back to where Marcus and the commander were waiting, Marcus watching me closely, the commander constantly scanning the area around the booth. Marcus gave a slight nod when I held up the material and arched a brow in question.

“Fine, I’ll take it,” I told her with a sigh of happiness.

She ushered me into a small tent with two openings, one in front and one in back. The back flap was closed and she lowered the front one as we entered. With a smile, she pulled a tape measure from a niche in the stand sitting to one side as Peri left my shoulder to investigate all the nooks and crannies in the stand. No doubt Cammi was mentally counting the coins she’d just made on the sale.

“I know just the design for the costume. It will put Treya’s to shame.”

Okay, she wasn’t thinking about money. “You know Treya?”

“Yes, I know her. Too well.” She measured my bust and then moved on to my waist, using what looked like a slim stick of charcoal to jot the numbers on a thick sheet of vellum. “All that one thinks of is money and snagging a rich, important husband. Lately her eye has been on the commander, but it seems he favors you. I’m sure she’s not happy about that, but she’ll move on to the next man on her list soon.”

Just as she finished measuring my hips and straightened to note down the figure, I caught a glimpse of movement from the back of the tent and sunlight flashed off the metal of a blade.

I reacted instinctively, going into overdrive as the knife flew toward us. With one quick scoop, I moved Cammi out of the line of fire, turned, and caught the knife in my right hand. Without slowing, I spun in a half circle and aimed the knife at the wooden pole holding up the front of the tent. The blade went three inches deep and stuck, the shaft quivering from the blow.

Only then did I realize the commander was standing in the front opening, his eyes wide with disbelief as I came out of overdrive. Shocked silence descended as our gazes locked, and then Cammi started babbling, her voice drowning out Peri’s indignant squawk as she launched toward me.

“Sweet gods above, what happened? Did someone throw a knife at us? Did they miss? Are you hurt?” She rushed to my side, hands running over me frantically as she searched for wounds.

I tore my gaze from the commander to reassure her as Peri settled back on my shoulder. “I’m fine, really. They missed completely. See?” I pointed to the knife still buried in the pole. Another two inches to the right and I’d have hit Reynard in the chest.

That thought scared me more than the look on his face.

Without a word, the commander went to the back of the tent, pushed the flap aside, and stepped out. He was back by the time Marcus rushed in from the front.

“What happened?”

Reynard glanced at me before answering. “Someone tried to kill Echo. There are hundreds of people out there. It could have been any one of them.”

Cammi was looking at the knife, a surprised expression on her face. “It’s Bashalde. Why would one of her own people want to hurt her?”

“Good question,” the commander said.

Both of them were staring at me again, and I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe someone had a grudge against my father that I’m unaware of. Marcus, do you know of anything?”

“No, nothing specific. But August was a powerful man. I’m sure he made enemies in his lifetime.” He reached over and pulled the knife loose. “Besides, just because it’s a Bashalde knife doesn’t mean the person throwing it was Bashalde. I have a similar knife that I bought at the last gathering.”

Through this whole episode, Lillith had been suspiciously quiet. While Marcus was speaking, I decided to find out why.

“Lillith?”

“Hush, I’m busy,” she replied.

“Well, thank you so much for your concern.” It’s not easy to be sarcastic when you’re subvocalizing, but I managed.

“I knew you were safe, and right now it’s more important to track the man who threw the knife.”

I stiffened. “You saw him?”

“Yes, although I didn’t know he tried to kill you until you reacted. But he was the only one near enough to the tent opening to have done it.”

Marcus continued to speak, but I tuned him out to concentrate on what Lillith was saying. “What does he look like, where is he going?”

“Average height and weight, brown hair, white shirt, dark pants. And he seems to be heading toward Chief Lowden’s tent in a roundabout manner.” There was a pause. “Yes, he definitely went into the chief’s tent.”

This made no sense at all and my mind whirled with questions, one in particular rising to the top. Why would Chief Lowden want me dead? The only feasible reason was that he suspected my real identity. And that would imply he was connected to the Daughter Stone in some way.

Something else suddenly hit me. The knife thrower hadn’t wanted me dead. If I hadn’t moved, the trajectory of the knife would have impaled it in my upper arm.

A chill ran over me. They either wanted to see how fast I healed or see if I could stop the attack, and there was only one explanation for that. Not only did they suspect I was a Federation agent, they wanted to see if I was a Gertz GEP.

And I’d made the stupid mistake of showing them. I might as well have hung a sign around my neck. Even the commander now knew I wasn’t what I’d claimed to be, and I had no idea why he was remaining silent.

“Echo, are you sure you’re okay?” Marcus had stopped talking and was looking at me with concern. “I think we should take you home. You’ve had quite a shock.”

“No. No, I’m fine.” Quickly I pulled myself together. “I believe the commander said Chief Lowden is expecting me. We certainly can’t disappoint him.”

Not to mention, I desperately wanted to get a look at the chief myself, and test his reaction to my presence.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, absolutely. I’m not going to let this spoil the day.” I turned to Cammi, pulled the coin purse from my belt and gave her half the contents for the everyday clothes, leaving Marcus to worry about paying for the fancy costume. “I’m sorry you were involved in this. Please have the clothing delivered to the Terpsichore when it’s done.”

“Of course.” She patted my arm again. “I’ll make sure you have it by week’s end. And don’t worry about Treya’s order,” she told Marcus. “I’ll have it delivered at the same time.”

Marcus leaned over and whispered something to her that caused her to smile, and then the three of us left the tent and made our way out of the booth in silence. I figured it wouldn’t be long before the commander voiced his suspicions, and I was right. We hadn’t gone ten steps before he took my arm and pulled me to a stop.

“I’d like to speak with your ward, Kent. Alone.”

“Do you think that’s wise, under the circumstances? Someone did try to kill her.”

Before he finished the sentence, Lillith whispered in my ear. “Marcus wants to know if he should insist on staying with you. He says maybe he can keep the commander from asking questions you don’t want to answer.”

Mentally, I sighed. “No, we might as well get this over with. The commander saw me go into overdrive. He’s not going to ignore that even if Marcus is chemically bonded to my side.”

“I think she’ll be safe with me.” The commander’s tone would brook no argument, and finally, Marcus nodded.

“As you wish. I’ll wait for you outside the baker’s tent.” He pointed to a blue-and-yellow pavilion not far away.

Without waiting for Marcus to leave, the commander steered me toward the stream and down the gently sloping bank until we stood in a relatively flat space at the edge of the water. There were a few small trees between us and the crowd and they provided a bit of privacy.

The scent of damp earth rose around us as he stopped and turned to face me. “Who are you? And if I don’t get the truth this time, I’ll lock you in a cell until I do.”

Now wasn’t that a choice? Naturally, there wasn’t a wooden or barred cell on the planet that could hold me. I’d proven that when I tore the door off the castle. But the very act of breaking out would expose me. And I couldn’t sit in a cell and do nothing, knowing those children would be destroyed when they were forced to use the Sumantti.

A feeling of resignation swept over me. I’d known this would never work. I simply wasn’t cut out to be an agent. Straightening slowly I forced myself to meet the commander’s gaze, my decision made.

“My name is Echo Adams. I’m an agent for the Bureau of Alien Affairs.” I held my hand up, palm out in the universal symbol for peace. “Greetings from the Galactic Federation, Commander Reynard du’Marr.”





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