Ever After (2 page)

What did the girl have on Albright? What pirate faction was she working for? Why had she arrived unannounced, only to be given such an important position as advising Earth Embassy’s supreme commander? Did that mean she had high connections on Mythreal that he had yet to discover? Finally, why was Albright listening to every syllable she uttered?

He’d
tactfully tried to change rules in lieu of having only a majority of councilmen or women agreeing to any strategic maneuver. But Mythreal’s ancient laws governing concord got in the way, over and over. One diplomat was afraid of offending another. With eighty embassies to please, it’d been long-ago decided that all must share the responsibility of policing the sector, or the strongest among them ended up footing the entire bill. Hence the need and legislation regarding unanimous action.

Not knowing how Foley wangled her way into the general’s affections—thereby changing his attitude—elevated
his
distrust. No one was above suspicion, not even a seemingly bland little lieutenant. History, in regards to spying activities committed by pirates on Mythreal, was foremost in his mind.

First, a representative for the Kryllian planet had been caught handing over attack strategy to his Pleidian mistress—a pirate spy. Though done in the throes of passion, after much wheedling and alcohol had been applied, those plans had still been compromised. Oh, the man hadn’t
meant
to discuss the location of Allied Command law enforcement vessels in deep space. And he was extremely apologetic when Mythrealian guards had questioned him on the subject. Still, the girl had pulled that classified information out of him. And in such a way that the poor man had never caught on until it was too late to save his career. He was summarily but quietly dismissed from duties. An excuse had been given to everyone else for the change in Kryllian leadership, thus keeping the rest of that planet’s innocent staff from suffering great embarrassment.

Then there was the incident where household cleaning staff had been hired by the Sagittarian embassy. Though politicians there claimed their employees were all scrupulously vetted, maids and groundskeepers were proven to be pirate spies; men and women who’d been given too much access to sensitive parts of that contingent’s compound. The result—pirate operatives collected computerized memorandums for attack plans.

Several other incidents followed these. The amalgamation made Dillon suspect
anyone
whose presence was as innocuous as Lieutenant Keira Foley’s. Though the girl advised General Albright in ways that made perfect sense, Albright always presented those new strategies as if they were
his
. This situation mimicked those spying incidents from the past.

Dillon released a deep sigh of frustration.

If anyone knew he’d surveilled Earth embassy, he’d be in such serious trouble that noble lineage couldn’t save him. In fact, what he’d done was so insidious that he’d committed to the deeds secretly. Neither his cousin—the heir to the throne—nor his ruling uncle could be blamed.

Disgustingly, the actual commission of the plot had been far too easy.

He’d simply planted a coin-sized voice/camera bug under the general’s desk during a very recent tour of Earth’s embassy—a tour given to
trusted
members of Allied High Command. During that visit, security was exceedingly lax. There’d been an extremely late party going on in the massive ballroom attached to Earth’s Embassy and staff quarters. Libation was heavy. No one paid any attention to the wanderings of a reliable Mythrealian noble, a beloved nephew to the planet’s honorable monarch.

He felt like dragon dung.

There were insects crawling under rocks with more dignity, yet suspicion made him commit the act. However, what made his spying even worse was Mythreal and Albright’s home world of Earth shared common ancestry though that first thread took hold many millennia ago.

The two planets were staunch allies. His skin might be light aqua, he might have elongated ears, long blond hair, and a physique that dwarfed humans several times over. He might appear to Earthers as what they gently and jokingly referred to as a
‘very big elf’.
But there were many more similarities between the two races than physical differences implied. Indeed, his race and Earthers’ had been inbreeding for the last two centuries, accepting of each other in every way. Of all the allies in High Command­—a staunch set of law enforcers who collectively patrolled this entire sector of space—Earth and Mythreal were the closest. They took each other’s side on almost every issue. Earth had been the very first ally to ever have an embassy constructed on Mythreal. His own, much beloved grandmother was an Earther.

He hated what he was doing mostly because of friendships and trusted companions held dear within Earth’s embassy. But when a man of General Albright’s previous languor suddenly changed—and for no other reason than a newly installed officer made suggestions far beyond her rank—he had to take notice. He had to. Too many law enforcers’ lives were at stake. Too many breaches of classified information had put them all in precarious positions.

Sadly, something told him the crafty lieutenant had been sent to do exactly what she was doing.

Maybe someone back on Earth got wind of Albright’s failure to act, and feared it was hurting allied relations on Mythreal—which it was. But why not just say so? Why not just let Mythreal’s king know what was happening and why? Other ambassadors had tactfully called in replacement strategists and with no loss of face. Albright wouldn’t be the first general or diplomatic envoy to need help with his work.

There were several
other
small issues that magnified the new lieutenant’s total abdication of recognition. Her physical appearance relegated her to the position of a drudge, nothing like an Earth warrior who’d had to have been highly esteemed to get and keep the sought-after position she now held. When she was seen outside Earth’s compound, the girl was constantly dressed in an Earth Embassy uniform, the tailoring of which was poor. Off duty, there was no obligation for her to wear anything but what she preferred. Unlike the other women from Earth’s embassy, her drab green uniform tunic, pants, and high brown boots were her only garb. She didn’t bother having them altered to fit as others did. Everything hung on her like a dragon’s feedbag.

And why was she so pale?

Winters were short on Mythreal. Spring came earlier than it did on Earth, and the sun almost always shone late into the evening. It seemed she avoided the light—avoided leaving Earth’s compound. Though she’d only been on the planet a few short weeks her actions seemed odd and entirely opposite from all her comrades. Most of Earth’s embassy staff inclusive of guards, maids, chauffeurs, and botanists, couldn’t wait to tour the beautiful, garden world to which many millions strove to emigrate.

Why, during the few times she’d been in
his
presence, was she so inordinately quiet that he couldn’t reconcile her ability to strategize for the general, much less spy?

There’d been no formal announcement of her arrival, just a small notice in an Allied High Command bulletin. This was not the norm. She’d simply taken over the general’s complete itinerary. Now, Albright went nowhere without her.

Lieutenant Keira Foley was doing everything she possibly could to
never
be noticed. She was a complete enigma. Oddly, the more he studied her countenance—as provided by the bugging device she now stood near—the more intrigued he became. Unkind individuals might refer to her as plain. But there was nothing understated about her intelligence.

The general was being manipulated. Spies could and had come in any form. At any time, her so-called suggestions to the general could become useful in setting up some grander scheme. A raid maybe? Or even an attack?

Maybe she’d lure the entire law enforcement cadre of Mythreal into trusting the general so much that his suggestions—through her—could become a decoy. She might suggest law enforcement vessels inspect a load of ore in a certain sector of space, only to advise her pirate cohorts where those same vessels would be stationed. Than an all-out attack could ensue on innocent peacekeepers, simply trying to do the job they’d been assigned.

He made the decision to dig further.

Dillion punched up a series of codes that allowed him to hack into Earth Embassy’s personnel file. As with the bug in Albright’s office, the technology he used was beyond Earth’s reckoning. No one on this world ever told anyone else all their secrets. Embassies might be tied together by contractual obligations enforcing laws, but technological advances were still each embassy’s privilege. No ally ever let another ally know everything about every gadget devised. The technology he currently used fell into that
don’t ask, don’t tell
category. In that way, even the most devious spies, malcontents, or terrorists weren’t able to steal all defensive tactics from any one individual or embassy.

In his heart he knew other Earth Embassy employees had nothing to do with Lieutenant Foley’s actions. They might even silently suspect her as he did. But they’d said nothing, so he’d taken action deemed necessary.

He waited until Foley’s file came up then stepped back in shock.

There was nothing on his screen but the girl’s name and her ID photo. The picture was as he’d always seen her. The image was still far too pale to say she appeared healthy—long brown hair was bundled at the back of her head. Her bright blue eyes were her only real, attractive feature. She had on a uniform jacket that, even from the waist up as the photo displayed, was ill-fitting. As usual, the clothing seemed too large, inappropriately altered. There wasn’t one single other fact or notation concerning her. Not even a birthdate.

He frowned.

If there was cause to be suspicious before, now he was downright sure the woman was a plant of some kind. She’d actually assumed this file could be hacked and had taken measures to assure her embassy identity remained innocuous. She’d known no one working legitimately would go to such lengths, so he couldn’t out her without outing himself.

Smart girl. Very, very clever.

This new discovery meant that someone else in the embassy knew she was a plant. She was being aided by someone in a high-ranking position or she could never have gotten away with leaving so little in her personnel file.

“Bloody damn!”

After making a second attempt to bring up more data and finding nothing else to alter his current suspicions, he turned off all the devices.

There was nothing wrong with the bugs or his hacking skills. Suspicion turned to certainty. She was a spy and likely had a cohort. Was it Albright? Was the man that stupid?

Dillon stepped back from the console in his bedroom office, walked to his balcony, and stared out at the noontime gardens two stories below.

From his gray-stone estate, he had quite a fantastic view. A large garden fountain sparkled in the bright light. Gossamer-winged insects floated from the heads of colorful flowers, all planted for artful display. Everything on this world was at its loveliest now, in very early spring. It’d been a bit warmer than usual, and winter and summer would be grand.

In the hillsides beyond, dragons flew in the deep blue sky. This time of year, they were breeding and preparing for eggs to hatch in the hot months ahead.

He caught site of a group of beautiful, white unicorns meandering near the back garden wall.
Dimflits
—sentient beings described by Earthers as
pixies
—flew in and out of shrubbery while gathering nectar. Their shimmering colors would have captured his attention on any other day.

For the rest of Mythreal, including his royal family, everything was peaceful, lovely and in its proper place. This was home. It was known as the jewel of the entire galaxy for its breathtaking scenery, safety, and convivial environment. The responsibility for keeping this garden world safe fell to
him
. Keeping his family out of the rumor mill was also his job. But the time had come to take action.

“Who are you, Foley? Who sent you? How did you get so close to Albright and what’s your game?” he whispered.

He’d have to make an arrest. And soon.

And he’d have to do it in such a way as to apply the greatest discretion. But how? What was he going to say to his Earth friends; friends of so many years that they may as well be his own kin? He’d fought beside them against pirates in many campaigns. They were drinking comrades and fellow warriors. Now, he’d have to embarrass their embassy and all they stood for. They’d likely be sent away with a change of command. He’d never see them again. They’d never be allowed anywhere near Mythreal even though they’d known nothing about this incident and were innocent of any treachery. Still, they’d all be somewhat implicated or at least trust in them would be too diminished to let them stay. It’d take years to repair the damage if he wasn’t careful.

For the rest of that day and the next three, he pondered the situation and how to approach it. When no answers came by dawn at week’s end, he sighed heavily and left his home to find his cousin and inform him—as next heir to the throne of Mythreal and as an Allied High Command official—the sad, sad news. Even if his words were gently applied, they would still fall harshly.

Earth Embassy had been infiltrated by pirate spies.

Eventually, he’d suffer for his having planted the bug even if it led to the outing of a traitor. But it had to be done.

Chapter Two

Dillon grimly strode down the hallway of his home. He was headed toward the waiting shuttle in the courtyard. The conveyance would take him to the Mythrealian royal estate. There, he’d inform his family of Earth’s problem. He’d also seal his fate.