gaian consortium 06 - zhore deception (29 page)

“How are we doing today?” he inquired.

“
I’m
fine,” she said.

He squinted, as if attempting to look at her more closely. “Hmm. You’re looking a little tired, actually. All this sitting around getting to you?”

“Are you kidding?” she shot back. “After having to play secretary for the past few months, this is being in the lap of luxury. It was very thoughtful of Gabriel to make sure that all the latest entertainment feeds were sent to my console.”

Well, not all, actually. There was a conspicuous absence of anything resembling news. Just fluffy entertainment in various forms. It was better than nothing — watching the melodramas the vid writers cooked up helped to divert her thoughts, if only in short bursts — but she had to wonder what was going on in the larger galaxy.

Blake shrugged. “Well, good, I guess.” He paused then, and she could almost feel him poking at her mind, trying to find a chink in the mental armor she’d erected.

Good luck with that,
she reflected. After spending a month among the Zhore and having to keep those barriers up at all time, dealing with Blake’s blunt-force approach was almost laughably easy.

“What did you want, Blake?”

He smirked. “Oh, right. Gabriel sent me along to let you know that they’ve found an acceptable surrogate. She should be here sometime within the next thirty-six standard hours.”

Trinity’s stomach clenched. But she knew her barriers were still in place, so Blake shouldn’t be able to sense any of the roiling dread that had overtaken her. A standard day and a half before Zhandar’s child was stolen from her forever.

Yes, she’d known the surrogate might appear at any time. And really, considering Gabriel’s ruthless efficiency when it came to making something he wanted happen, thirty-six hours was almost glacially slow.

The question was, could she come up with a plan to thwart him within the next thirty-six hours?

“Great,” she said carelessly, hoping that her hesitation hadn’t lasted long enough for Blake to notice. “The sooner they get this thing out of me, the better.”

I’m so sorry, Zhandar…I didn’t really mean it.

Blake gave her a nod of grudging approval. “Yeah, I can’t say as I blame you. Bad enough that you had to…you know. But then to have to carry it for nine months? Nasty.”

She wanted to tell him that the really nasty thing was his VR girlfriends and the various apparatus he used to get off while engaging in those virtual encounters. But since it seemed as if she almost had him on her side right now, the last thing she wanted to do was antagonize him.

“I know,” she replied, then gave a mock shudder. “You’d think Gabriel might have thought of that from the beginning. Then we could have performed the transfer as soon as I got back here.”

“Well, I don’t think he was counting on….” Blake seemed to stop himself then, as if he’d been about to reveal something he shouldn’t.

Gabriel wasn’t counting on…what? Being “slightly in lust” with the woman he’d chosen to be his secret weapon? Well, that made sense. If he hadn’t want to sleep with her, Trinity doubted he’d be worrying too much about letting her carry the child to term, no matter what he might say about risking her talents. It was the child who couldn’t be risked. Neither he nor the doctors and scientists he was working with really knew enough about Zhore physiology to say whether sex during pregnancy was safe.

She wasn’t going to admit to Blake that she knew all about Gabriel’s plans for her. It was clear enough that the two men must have shared a few confidences…or maybe Blake was a little better at getting into Gabriel’s head than her handler wanted to acknowledge. Either way, this was one time when it was probably better to play dumb. Especially since she’d just begun to have an inkling of a plan.

“Oh, yes, I got the feeling that he wasn’t expecting me to get knocked up that quickly,” she confessed, giving Blake what she hoped was a half-sly, half-embarrassed look, as if they were sharing a confidence.

“Yeah, that,” he responded at once.

There. Relief. He was relieved that she hadn’t pressed the issue or asked any awkward questions. She remembered how she’d gotten in all the way during their training sessions, by letting her thoughts become an invisible mist, one that slipped quietly through all the defenses he’d so carefully created.

“So,” she said, “how do you even find a surrogate? Put an ad on the local e-board?”

“Of course not,” Blake replied. “I don’t know the details. But obviously it’s something we needed to be discreet about.”

“Oh, right.” Good. Now he was thinking of her as stupid and silly. And if he considered her to be a foolish young woman who didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into, then he wouldn’t believe her to be any kind of threat. Certainly not the sort of opponent who could take him on, let alone best him. Being Blake, he was so confident of his own superiority that he’d conveniently erased that one instance where she’d slipped into his thoughts without his even realizing what she was doing.

Trinity sank into his mind then, getting every useful piece of information she could extract. The station was out in the middle of nowhere — she didn’t even recognize the sector designation — and while, because of security reasons, its staff didn’t seem to rotate out on anything like a regular basis, they did have a supply ship come out every three standard months to bring food, equipment, spare parts, and whatever else might be needed.

That ship was not technically a Consortium ship, but a private vessel subcontracted for the job. And it was going to be here tomorrow.

Was it bringing the surrogate as well, or would she be arriving by a different ship? Trinity guessed the surrogate must be on board, because otherwise that would have been too much of a coincidence. Either way, it didn’t matter all that much, because she realized that the supply vessel was her only true hope here. Somehow she would have to find a way to get on it, and be away before anyone even noticed that she was missing.

No problem.

She wanted to grimace, but couldn’t, because Blake was saying, “So I guess once she’s rested after her trip here, they’ll do the…procedure.”

“Great.” She paused, then asked, “Do you think it’ll hurt?”

He gave her a scornful look. “That fetus isn’t even the size of a fingernail yet. Of course it won’t hurt. You won’t even notice a difference.”

Except that Zhandar’s child will have been taken from me. I think I’ll notice that a good deal.

“Oh, yeah, you’re right.” She slanted a look at Blake. His expression was fairly neutral, but she noted the slightest lift at one corner of his mouth. It didn’t take a mind reader to guess what he was thinking right then.

He was thinking about what Gabriel was going to do to her once he didn’t have to worry about interfering with the half-Zhore child’s development.

Trinity swallowed. She had to find some way to sneak on that shuttle tomorrow. Or else….

Or else Gabriel would have won. And after that, she wasn’t sure if she’d still have the strength to resist him.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Lirzhan led Zhandar to the room where he would be staying. It was large and airy, with a fountain in one corner surrounded by lacy ferns. He might not be able to rest while he was here, but that wouldn’t be because the room wasn’t comfortable.

Apparently picking up on some of what Zhandar was thinking, Lirzhan said, “I know it’s difficult, but do what you can to get some sleep. I will bring some necessities for you and leave them outside your door.”

“I thank you for your hospitality,” Zhandar said formally.

“It is yours for as long as you need it,” Lirzhan replied. He hesitated for a second or two, then went on, “Believe me, I know what it feels like to have the woman you love in the hands of those who appear to have no morals, no scruples. I know nothing of this Gabriel Brant save what I have been told, but I do know he values the child that Trinity carries. He will not do anything to endanger either one of them. That may be scant comfort to you, but scant comfort is better than none at all.”

Actually, Lirzhan’s words did reassure Zhandar somewhat. Brant clearly would do anything to get what he wanted, but now that thing he wanted was a human/Zhore hybrid to study. Doing anything that might hurt Trinity would only damage his prize as well. No, for now she was probably safe enough, if chafing at her captivity.

“Thank you for that,” Zhandar said. “Trinity is a resourceful woman, and intelligent. I am sure she is doing what she must to bide her time until help can come to her.”

“Precisely. So sleep now, and with any luck, we will have some news for you soon.”

Zhandar nodded, then bade Lirzhan good night and shut the door to the guest room. He had not brought a change of clothes, but perhaps that would be part of what his host had said he would provide. In the meantime, it was enough to take off the heavy robes and drape them over a side chair, then pull the clasp from his hair and shake it loose. After having it pulled back tightly all day, it felt good to let it fall over his shoulders, free at last from the confining clip.

Then it was time to remove his boots, and lie down on the bed. He tried not to think of Trinity, but the more he attempted to force her from his mind, the more she was there — the pleading in her blue-green eyes the last time they had spoken, the worry and the fear that she had tried to barricade from him. At the time, he had thought himself completely justified in his anger, but now he could only berate himself once again, wishing he’d been able to look past the hurt and the betrayal and be just a little more understanding.

Right then, he would have given anything to be able to hold her in his arms again. He could only pray that his stubbornness hadn’t stolen the one thing he realized was more precious to him than anything else.

It was still quite dark when the door chime sounded. Zhandar sat up in bed, blinking at his unfamiliar surroundings. For a second or two, he couldn’t place where he was. Then he remembered — Lirzhan and Alexa’s homestead.

His host’s voice came from beyond the door. “My apologies, but Alexa has some information for you.”

That was the only spur Zhandar needed. In a flash, he was out of bed and reaching for his cloak. He’d barely finished fastening it around his throat and pulling the hood low before he was pushing the button to open the door.

“What is it?” he asked, then stepped out into the corridor.

“Good news. Come with me.”

Hoping — and wondering if he was foolish for allowing himself to hope before he’d heard anything else — Zhandar followed the other man down the hallway to another room, clearly an office. Alexa sat at a desk, facing a comm, although the screen was dark. Nevertheless, a man’s voice was coming from the speaker.

“…always think they’re so clever, but they’re not as good at covering their tracks as they think they are. Especially if you know where to look.”

The voice was clearly Gaian, speaking Galactic Standard. The man’s tone had a faintly ironic quality, the words drawled, as if he were simultaneously bored and amused by the current topic of conversation.

“So anyway, yes, there has been an unusual amount of money funneled into a station in Sector 1754, including a good deal of appropriations for medical equipment. Why someone would need that kind of equipment for a space station out in the middle of nowhere, one that’s not servicing a colony or a fleet or something along those lines, I have no idea.” The voice paused, then continued, “Well, actually, I think we all have an idea.”

“So you’re sure that’s it, Jackson?” Alexa flicked a brief glance over her shoulder to acknowledge Lirzhan and Zhandar as they came in, but quickly turned back toward the comm.

“Am I one hundred percent positive? No. But I’d say we’re in the ballpark of around eight-five percent. And if I were a betting man, I’d bet on those odds.”

“You’ve found her?” Zhandar murmured.

“We think so,” Alexa replied. “That is, Jackson did the analysis, and there’s just nothing else out in that range that’s showing any kind of activity. In Sector 1759, there’s some mining going on in a system with a number of satellites that contain unusual concentrations of heavy metals, but it was fairly obvious that Trinity was on a space station, not a planet. Anyway, all the traffic in Sector 1759 is above board and accounted for. But in Sector 1754, which is supposed to be completely empty — there are only two systems that even have planets in that sector — he’s tracked traffic that has no business being there.”

“Yes,” drawled the voice from the speaker. “And more to come. There’s a supply ship — the
Cote d’Ivoire
— that’s on its way there right now. ETA is around 22:00 hours their time tomorrow.”

“We’ll have to intercept that ship,” Zhandar said. Surely if they were able to stop it, board it, then they could use the supply vessel as a way to get into the space station.

“Two steps ahead of you, cowboy,” Jackson Wyler said. Bemused by the Gaian’s off-had tone, Zhandar wondered what in the galaxy a cowboy was. He didn’t have time to pursue the question, however, because Wyler was speaking again. “I’ve already sent the coordinates to Alexa, along with the codes to show that you’re with the Gaian Defense Fleet and have orders to board their vessel, due to its carrying contraband.”

“But” — Zhandar looked from the empty screen where Jackson’s face should have been to Alexa, who seemed more or less unruffled by his declaration — “if this supply ship is carrying cargo for a Consortium space station, why would the Gaian Defense Fleet have any reason to stop it?”

“Typical bureaucratic snafu,” Alexa said. Then, appearing to take pity on his continuing confusion, she went on, “The Consortium is so large, and so complex, that contradicting orders are given all the time. Since the supply ship is piloted by subcontractors, they’re not going to be totally sure of what’s going on. They’ll be a lot easier to intimidate and board than an actual ship of the GDF’s support corps.”

Lirzhan spoke for the first time. “I hope you’re not planning on being one of those who intend to intimidate and board that supply vessel.”