Captivate (Alien Cadets Book 2) Page 7

  “Uh... ” Basher unrolled it and saw that, in addition to Faal’s universal contact information, there was a list of his four residences on Selta. A few more inches were devoted to a general authorization that gave Basher the right to use Faal’s name as a reference should he be in need.

  “Thank you,” Basher said. “This will be extremely helpful.”

  “Yes, I know.” Faal entered the elevator, but then paused. “If you await me here, I will inform you of my findings.”

  Basher nodded, but the doors were already shutting. He was more than a little surprised at the offer, and at the whole exchange. Faal was not known to be a conciliatory alien, but he was being remarkably helpful. Basher would definitely be making inquiries about his involvement with the space station and with humanity.

  It was not long before Faal returned, and he gestured for Basher to walk with him.

  “There was no human or Rik on that ship,” Faal said. “A false lead, I fear.”

  “Are you sure?” Basher asked. “I mean, can you be certain that the crew chief did not lie to you?”

  Faal gave him an incredulous stare. “I pardon your question on the grounds that you do not know Merith society. A Merith who values their security would not dare to lie to Faal of Merith II.”

  “I apologize,” Basher said. “I am not so fortunate. I’m in the habit of expecting lies.”

  “Oh, I expect lies,” Faal said, less stiffly than before. “But not from those who know the consequences.”

  Faal walked on silently and Basher wasn’t sure whether he was expected to take his leave now or keep walking. Faal had a decided limp which made it easy for Basher to keep up with his stride.

  “I expect several humans to join me here on Selta in the next week,” Basher said. “They will be coming to help investigate the explosion. But...” Basher wasn’t one to spill information to strange aliens, but this was an opportunity he might not have again. And he didn’t mind sucking up a little if it might loosen Faal’s tongue. “I am not entirely sure the best way to proceed. So far none of the Rik I’ve questioned seem to have the least knowledge of the sabotage. If you have any suggestions, I would be honored to listen.”

  Faal inclined his head. “A courteous request. Why the flattery?”

  The question was pointed, but Basher wasn’t put off. “You are one of the most powerful aliens in the galaxy, and I do not know how you prefer to be addressed. It seemed safest.”

  “And why do you seek my advice? Have you truly no ideas of your own?”

  “I have several... But I would like to know why you care to help me. Even if you give useless suggestions, which I do not expect, I would be enlightened.”

  Faal looked faintly pleased with this boldness. “Perhaps you would like to accompany me to my ship for a drink while we discuss the matter?” They’d followed the circumference of the cavern about a quarter turn and Faal gestured to one of the many elevators. The screen read:

  Steep Flight

  Diplomatic Clearance

  Merith II

  Apparently Basher had passed some kind of test. “Thank you, I accept.”

  Once on the ship, Faal’s servants ushered him into a sort of reclining room while Faal went somewhere else. The cushions were lush and there was a whistling music like birdsong.

  “Faal will return shortly. What drink can I serve you?”

  “Uh... purified water would be fine.”

  “We have two human beverages, Coke-a-Cola and orange juice.”

  “Wow. Do you? A Coke would be great then.” He sat on one of the reclining chairs, but stayed upright. Now that he thought about it, if Faal had been at the space station when it exploded, he’d been near Earth only a few weeks ago. Perhaps he’d even visited Earth and taken on supplies. It seemed unutterably strange that this alien had been to Earth more recently than Basher had.

  When Faal returned, he sat heavily and leaned back.

  “Was your injury sustained in the explosion?” Basher asked. Perhaps that explained Faal’s personal interest in helping uncover the perpetrators.

  “No.” Faal said shortly. “It was not.”

  Basher found himself automatically apologizing for the question.

  “I was not on the space station when it exploded,” Faal explained, unbending slightly as he accepted a frothy drink from his servant. “My ship was just departing, praise the Fates. I assisted in the salvage and rescue in the immediate aftermath, however.”

  “I see.” Basher received a can of Coke from the servant and flicked it before popping the tab. It hissed satisfyingly and Basher took a big gulp.

  “Do you require ice, mesquite chips, or pressurized air for your beverage?” said the servant.

  Basher savored the burn of acidic carbonation and shook his head. “Um, no, thank you. This is perfect.”

  The servant withdrew and Basher took another sip. “While your immediate assistance was, perhaps, expected, you have no obligation to continue to assist in our investigation. I cannot help wondering why you would.”

  Faal swirled his drink thoughtfully. “I am a Merith of decided tastes. I like Melifleuran wine. I like to possess rare and exotic creatures. I like to know the strengths and weaknesses of everyone in the room.”

  Basher sipped and waited.

  “I do not like thieves or liars. I find Vel and Tergre cuisine revolting. And I do not care for the Rik. All things being equal, I would like to see them decline rather than grow in power.”

  “I don’t disagree with you there,” Basher admitted.

  “I tried to dissuade the human spokesman at the trial from making an alliance with the Rik. I am not surprised that it has gone badly so soon.”

  Basher agreed with Faal. He thought the decision made by Sam Locklear was a mistake, but it rubbed him the wrong way to have an alien criticize the boy. It was one thing for a human to criticize another human, but he felt an irrational need to defend him to Faal. “It may yet turn out for everyone’s benefit. We still aren’t certain that the sabotage was done by the Rik.”

  “I understand Sam will be coming to assist the investigation himself.”

  Basher wondered how he knew that. Had the Spo told this guy everything? “That is correct. I look forward to the company of my own species.”

  “Of course. I look forward to renewing my acquaintance with him as well. If he and the other members of the team need accommodation, I would be delighted to provide rooms at my building in Sector 12.”

  “Thank you, but all arrangements have been made for them to stay at the Spo embassy.” Basher drained the rest of his can. “And thank you for your hospitality. I believe I must get back to work now.”

  Faal rang a bell for his servant but didn’t get to his feet. “Fare well then. I’m certain we shall meet again soon.”

  CHAPTER 8

  When Nat couldn’t sleep, like tonight, she watched Akemi’s dreams. Akemi still had to sleep, despite her lack of a body, because apparently the human mind just wasn’t built for non-stop action. She only needed a few hours every day, but she always disconnected her output feeds when she was going to sleep, because otherwise her dreams ended up as gibberish sent to their glasses.

  That gibberish had given Akemi an idea, and she’d fiddled with her settings until she could make a visual recording of her dreams. It had never been tried before with a Spo computer, because trouncers didn’t dream, and even if they did, the Spo wouldn’t have been interested.

  The results had gotten increasingly clear as Akemi’s mind became used to the facility, and sometimes the dreams were almost like a movie. It was fascinating, of course, but the main reason Nat watched was to see Akemi.

  She would never see her sister again, the bright-eyed, black-haired little imp of a sister that she’d left when she joined the Spo cadets. Her body had died, and Nat had seen it cut and discarded.

  Akemi’s dreams, however, were a chance for Nat to see her sister again. In her dreams, Akemi was healthy, whole, and surpri
singly often, happy.

  As much as Nat enjoyed seeing those pleasant dreams, she also suffered through the terrifying nightmares. Those were even more addictive, however, because it was the only way to know how Akemi truly felt about the things that were happening. Akemi knew how to present a cheerful face when her whole world was falling apart. Now that she was a computer, Nat felt even more helpless to guess her sister’s true feelings.

  Nat tried to sleep for over an hour before she gave up and went to the computer in the corner of her room. After nearly losing Akemi in the space station, Nat had insisted on keeping her sister’s bulky computer nearby.

  She turned on the screen and put in the short cut she used to see Akemi’s dreams. Perhaps Akemi was dreaming of the explosion again. Nat had not been surprised to see that repetitive motif in the last weeks.

  Akemi felt responsible for failing to notice the sabotage, even though Nat told her that it wasn’t her fault. The Spo had examined the debris in detail during the last week, and the explosives had been top quality, skillfully set, and outrageously expensive. Whoever had planned the attack had spared no expense, and that was saying something in a galaxy as wealthy as this.

  Akemi was not dreaming of the sabotage, however. Nat saw a sketchy view of a beach with white sand and crystal blue water. There were faceless bathers splashing in the waves and stretched on the sand. It seemed to be a bright day, but the sun wasn’t visible in the sky. Akemi wandered along the beach, and she looked no more than ten years old. It was a childhood dream then... in fact, Nat remembered going to a beach near Tokyo when Akemi was about ten. It had been a pseudo-beach enclosed in a huge dome. It was less than half a mile from the real beach, but many people preferred the controlled waves and clean sand of the dome.

  In her dream, Akemi approached the water, but it retreated from her feet. She turned and approached a group of people, but they disappeared as she got near. Akemi spun in a circle, and the whole beach was suddenly empty.

  Nat pressed her hand to the screen, wishing she could comfort her. Akemi tilted her head up to the sun, and now Nat could see the shining glass panels between Akemi and the sky, just barely beyond Akemi’s fingertips as she stretched to touch it.

  The real dome had been huge, but not this one. Akemi jumped and jumped, trying to touch the glass, but she couldn’t reach it. Nat could sense her growing frustration and panic, as the colors of the dream became more vibrant - the sand nearly orange and the sky blinding white. It saddened her to watch, but Nat would never turn it off.

  Akemi gave up her attempt to touch the glass and instead walked toward the water. It retreated from her again. Even when she should have been knee deep and then hip deep, the water pulled away from her. When she would have been shoulder deep, she reached the wall. It looked like pale frosted glass, and there was one small hole in it. The hole had smooth edges and was about the size of an orange. Akemi tried to rip the hole wider, as if the wall was rice paper instead of glass. She didn’t succeed, but with a sudden jerk, a large shard of glass came off in her hand.

  Akemi dropped it on the sand at her feet and tried to break off more glass, but she could not. Finally she picked up the shard and looked slowly from it to the jagged hole.

  Nat hardly knew what to expect, but she cringed at the expression on Akemi’s face.

  Then Akemi knelt and began to hack at her foot with the glass. Nat gasped as the third stroke severed the foot completely. Akemi looked pained (though not enough for the situation), but she rose and pushed the foot through the hole. Then she began to work on her other foot, and threw it through the hole as well.

  Nat moaned as Akemi continued, clearly determined to get every bit of herself through the hole.

  A hand on her shoulder made Nat jump so hard she cracked her elbow on the table.

  “Good God,” Sam said. “What are you watching?”

  Nat hit the power button and the screen faded to black.

  “Was that Akemi?”

  Nat nodded, but didn’t trust her voice yet. She couldn’t shake the image.

  “That’s... horrific.”

  Nat nodded again and she couldn’t keep the tears from overflowing. “She’s so... trapped. There’s nothing I can do, but how can she stay sane in that computer? Maybe it would’ve been better if she...”

  “Better if she died?” Sam pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. “You don’t mean that. Akemi is glad to be alive. You can’t give more weight to her dreams than her words.”

  “How much weight do you have to give that... that butchery before it means something?”

  “It’s disturbing, you’re right. But she’s had disturbing things happen to her. If it didn’t bleed out in her dreams she wouldn’t be human.”

  “She isn’t human! Not anymore. She’s trapped in that thing,” Nat gestured to the biocomputer, “and she can’t get out!”

  “Now, you can’t be sure your interpretation of that dream is right. Maybe she felt trapped by her disease and her escape through the hole is when she got put into the computer. Or maybe it’s just a crazy dream that anybody might have had.”

  Nat shook her head.

  “I don’t know if it’s healthy for you to watch her dreams.” He tried to lighten his voice. “You’re not a Freudian therapist, last time I checked. You can’t be sure what any of it means.”

  Nat sighed. “But it probably means something, and all she’ll ever say when she’s awake is that she’s fine and have I looked at her latest research into the cluster bomb?”

  “Maybe that’s really true. Maybe you should believe her.”

  “I’m her sister! I don’t have to believe her.”

  Sam chuckled, and Nat reluctantly did as well. “You may have a point,” Nat admitted. “But I don’t think I can stop.”

  “At least stop for tonight,” Sam said. “You look exhausted.”

  Nat checked the time. Four in the morning. “What are you doing up?”

  “I had to go to the bathroom and I saw the light in your room.”

  They were temporarily back on Earth, at the Pepperdine Academy with the other cadets. She and Sam would be leaving tomorrow for Selta, with Akemi and Shara as well.

  Nat had moved back into her old room, although she’d felt strange being here without her roommate. Jia had been killed the night Nat had been kidnapped, but occasionally she still woke up and expected the other girl to be there.

  Nat shivered. If she was going to get all Freudian, she should probably admit that her own life was hemmed in by too many motifs of death for her mental stability.

  But that was life as an alien cadet.

  “Are you cold?” Sam asked, though he was still holding her. “You really should go to bed.”

  “I know, I will. Goodnight.”

  Sam reluctantly let her go. “I’ll see you in a couple hours. Sleep well.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Claire was tired after a shift of washing fine, Merith china by hand. She relaxed in a chair in the mess hall as she played with the last of her food. Claire had been on the ship for a week now, and was finally feeling comfortable enough to hang out during meal time and watch the news reports that appeared on the huge screen in the crew mess hall.

  Her fingers froze as she watched the news reports tonight, however. The two newscasters were speaking Spo and there was a flickering line of text at the side that she'd realized was Merith subtitles.

  “If you missed the story last week, we’re returning to the mystery of the Spo spacestation that unexpectedly exploded several weeks ago. It was orbiting Earth, the human homeworld, and if you’re not sure who the humans are, you’re not alone...Let’s show some of the footage from our newest species.”

  Claire watched the report, torn between horror and laughter. The newscasters were Tergre, furry with long ant-eater noses, and apparently they shared the human love of sensational journalism.

  “I must say, they’re not very taking things, are they?” Pictures of humans were flashin
g on the screen, and some of the other crew were looking from the screen to Claire.

  “Oh, don’t be harsh. Remember what you said about the Vel thirty years ago?” He tooted through his nose, which Claire gathered was a laugh.

  "The humans are at least full of surprises," said the other newscaster. "First they decide to sponsor the Rik, their enemies in the sentience trial, and now they have an unknown saboteur on their space station.”

  There was a short video of a male gymnast spinning on a pommel horse and Claire recognized an Olympic symbol in the corner of the screen. How on earth had these Tergre gotten an Olympic recording? They showed a rowing competition next, and then a heavily muscled weight lifter.

  “Well, we’re bound to see more of these bold and restless newcomers in the next months. They’ve released a statement that they’ll be handling the investigation themselves, with help from the Spo. They’re either very confident or very ignorant.”

  Another Olympic shot: a pole vaulter flying through the air and arching over the bar to land on his back. It looked very primitive all the sudden.

  “They seem to be both, my friend. Let's hope their new enemy, whoever it might be, leaves enough of them alive to preserve their... hmm, competitive culture.”

  “Speaking of competition, the Diarena will grace the largest underground party in the world with her presence, when she visits Selta on her tour of worlds. She will be performing during the concert week and many expect her to...”

  “Those are you, yes? The humans?”

  Claire spun around, startled to hear a voice just inches behind her.

  It was a Crosspoint alien. Claire remembered them from the few brief months of her training. They were giant slugs and slid along on their bellies, but without any of the slime and mucous of Earthly slugs, thank god. This one's head was about even with her chest.

  She had no idea how it moved so smoothly and quietly without any overt display of wriggling or squirming muscles. She instinctively leaned away from its translucent bulges.