Hathor Legacy: Outcast (8 page)

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Authors: Deborah A Bailey

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"Her name came up when I talked to Brant." So, Mantee hadn't wanted him involved. She might've just been following procedure, or perhaps there was a
nother reason for discouraging him. "I'm going to the detention building to check on the guards. They might be willing to talk."

"I'll come with you."

"No. It's best you stay here until I return," she said.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" His grey eyes were like ice. "Something else about your talk with Brant?"

If she told him, he'd run off and do something he shouldn't. She was sure of it. It wouldn't matter if he didn't have a plan. Jonathan ran on passion and impulse. That combination could be dangerous on Hathor. "No, there's nothing else. I'd better go. I'll be back as soon as I can."

 

*****

 

Detention was only minutes away from the Administration building, but it was worlds away in appearance. There were no shimmering glass towers or bustling crowds of company personnel filling the streets.

Instead, there was one main entrance with security guards and a fence that could not be seen, but would be felt if someone tried to get through without a
uthorization.

The detention area itself was actually a series of rooms and co
rridors beneath the city. It was a maze of spaces for processing and transporting offenders off-world when they were sentenced to labor in the mines.

After Nadira identified herself at the entrance, she headed to the security chief's office. Her discomfort rising as she walked past two additional security checkpoints.

Normally she tried to stay away from this place and the emotions that ran through it.

If she stayed here too long, the fear, anxiety and anger of those who had been detained would overwhelm her own feelings. Lea
ving her to experience them as though they were her own. 

When she got to the security office, she identified herself and was admitted right away. Sec
urity Chief Duval led Nadira to a private meeting room.

"Guardian, I was surprised when they told me you were here." She waited for Nadira to sit first. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"You have two men who were involved in the attack at the Emerald Club--"

"Such an attack in the Palatine district is reprehensible, Guar
dian. The punishment will be most severe," Duval said, as she flicked her black shoulder-length hair away from her face.

"Yes, I know. But have they been questioned yet?"

The Chief gave her a quizzical look. "Questioned? They were processed and sent away a few hours ago."

"But the men were to be questioned by the Guardians."

 

"Yes, I know. I saw your request logged in the officer's report. But this morning the Sentry Leader contacted me with new instru
ctions."

"What did he say?" Nadira asked.

"He gave authorization them to be processed. They are on their way to a mining colony. I agreed with him that lifetime hard labor was appropriate." 

"Chief, has the Sentry Leader ever done this before?"

"Actually, this was the first time. But I didn't think it was my place to question him."

Of course she wouldn't have. Brant's request would've carried much more weight because of his position. 

Not telling Jonathan about the remains at the mine had been the right call. They could've used Brandon's DNA profile to confirm his identity within minutes. The story had to be a lie to lure Jon in. 

Reading other Guardians was difficult, though not exactly fo
rbidden. She could take a chance and try to discover Brant's true motives. But the catch was that by doing so, she'd be vulnerable to him doing the same thing to her.

No, she couldn't take that risk. The only way to keep Jon's loc
ation secret was to build a wall of energy around them that no other Guardian could penetrate. With her stronger Sentry abilities, it would be easy. But maintaining it wouldn't be.

To create the shield, she'd have to do the one thing she'd been dreading: form an energetic connection with Jonathan. 

A connection that might end up becoming permanent.

 

*****

 

After she left the Detention area Nadira took a transport back to the Palatine district. Even with the large number of ground transports clogging the traffic lanes, she was able to get to the Emerald Club within minutes.

When she entered the lobby, Mr. Renard rushed over to her.

"Guardian! How is Mr. Keel? I have his bag here. I didn't know where to send it. Have you any word on why they attacked him? This has been most upsetting. We pride ourselves on providing safety and security for our clientele. We--"

Nadira stopped him with a wave of her hand. "Mr. Keel is r
ecovering very well. The attackers have been dealt with."

"Yes, of course they have, Guardian. How may I help you?" he asked.

"Mr. Keel was expecting a guest to join him. Has anyone left a message or tried to check in?"

Renard frowned. "Ah, not that I can recall. But it's been so alarming in the past few hours what with security in and out. What is the name again?"

She was about to say, Ilana Travac when she remembered the alias. "It's Cintra Ansi."

"One moment." He walked back to his desk to check the hotel records. Images materialized on the surface as he tapped a short, stubby finger against the des
ktop. Finally he looked up. "We have no record of her, however, there was a message received for Mr. Keel."

Nadira felt her heart jump in her chest. "Who left it?"

"It is marked confidential. There's only a written message. I can't access it with the encryption, you understand." He managed a weak smile. "I wish I could assist you."

She walked over and nudged him to the side. He gasped as she pressed her hand against the glass and identified herself to the sy
stem.

"You're overriding security protocols!"

Nadira gave him a look and he backed away from her, his hands nervously clasped in front of him. Waiting for his permission would only waste more time. Right now she didn't know what she was dealing with.

Encrypted symbols flashed on the screen. Then a request: "Identify." She pressed her palm against the surface and waited for the approval. It displayed: "Approved." Then, "Unlock?" She ind
icated, "Yes."

The screen went blank, then displayed four words: "Message read and d
eleted."

"Deleted?" Nadira swiped her fingers across the desktop, pa
ging through the displays. She knew she hadn't deleted the message. It had been there a moment ago. 

"This is most unusual," Mr. Renard gasped.

"Who deleted it?" she asked. There was no response, evidently it wasn't voice activated. The message had just been there and now it wasn't. What had happened in the past few seconds?

There had to be a way to find out. Growing annoyed she went through more screens, going deeper into the system until it di
splayed who had accessed the message.

She stopped, her hand poised over the glass as the information she'd been searching for flashed on the screen. It read: "Message accessed, read and deleted by Jonathan Keel."

 

 

11
Confined

Jonathan paced the length of Nadira's small apartment. From the front door to the back be
droom was a little over 10 meters.  Hell, he had more space than that in his bedroom back on Astarte.

At least he'd found his boots halfway under the bed. But these prickly clothes were unco
mfortable as hell. The t-shirt rubbed him raw and the pants irritated him in all the wrong places.

After about 10 minutes he'd been ready to strip and fling the garments into the nearest rec
ycler. How the hell did miners wear these things?

Jon dropped down on the couch. Reaching underneath his shirt, he caught himself before he scratched the tender skin surrounding the graft. The washed-out yellow patch on his chest was a reminder of how close he'd come to being killed. Even if it never blended in to match his skin, he wasn't going to worry about it. Being burned by a stunner blast was better than being killed by one.

All he could do was sit here and wait. To make things worse, Nadira had locked the damned door. It could only be opened using her ID. That woman.

If only he could stop his body from aching whenever he thought of her. He wasn't from Hathor, so of course he wasn't good enough for her. He wasn't part of their select group.

But his mother was born here, so that had to give him some standing. Right?

Unfortunately that was the one thing he couldn't admit. But seeing how easily Nadira could read him, it was surprising he'd been able to conceal that from her.

Maybe he was getting better at putting up some emotional shields of his own. As soon as he got out of here, he was going to buy some new clothes and disappear. Let her try to find him.

Beep--beep--beep

Next to him, Nadira's tablet glowed bright blue as the shrill beeping grew more insistent. He picked it up and swiped the glass.

"Network download completed," said a computerized female voice.

The tablet was still connected to Hathor's network. He didn't have authorization to connect to it. But she did. Perfect.

"I want the Emerald Club guest services," he said.

"Guest Services connected," the computer voice responded. "Please identify."

As he'd expected, he was still checked in. Good. He placed his palm against the glass panel and identified himself to the system. 

"ID accepted, Mr. Keel."

One message was waiting for him in his queue. It had to be from Ilana. But it was encrypted. He couldn't trace where she'd sent it from.

"Open the message," Jon ordered.

"Please present your ID again for access."

Ilana was taking a lot of precautions. But it didn't matter. He'd find her. Jon pressed his hand against the tablet and waited.

"ID accepted, Mr. Keel. Please wait for the message to be di
splayed."

Tapping his foot against the stone floor he waited. What could she possibly say to him?

Bright white letters scrolled across the cobalt blue screen.

"You're in danger. Don't stay at the hotel." Sent by Matt Bento.

He checked the date/time stamp. It'd been sent an hour after he'd checked in. By the time the message had arrived, he'd been lying unconscious in the remains of his suite with medics patching him up.

If he showed this to Nadira, she could have the Guardians bring Matt in for questioning. But how likely was that? Matt was co
nnected and his powerful friends would protect him.

He'd have to take care of this himself.

Beneath the message, there were three buttons: Close, Save and Delete Permanently.

He chose the last option, and watched as the message disa
ppeared.

 

*****

 

The ride back to the apartment was taking much longer than Nadira had expected. System maintenance in the Entertainment district was tying up traffic all over the city. Now her transport was in an interminable queue of other vehicles creeping forward. In a bustling metropolis like Nova City, there was never going to be an optimum time to perform maintenance. But still, she wasn't used to waiting.

Jon had to have accessed the message. And she had a good idea of how he'd done it. She ha
dn't thought to tell him not to use her tablet. But she was learning quickly that when it came to Jonathan, she couldn't make assumptions. He was going to do what he wanted to, no matter what.

 

*****

 

It turned out to be easy to check into Matt's activities in Nova City. Through the city directory Jon found details about his private club, "Whispers." Vids of prominent citizens and celebrities who attended his parties were splashed over most of the online media sites. After 30 minutes of browsing, Jon was about to stop searching when saw something.

The vid, a little over a month old according to the timestamp, was of guests arriving at a Novacorp party. Matt led the way, sau
ntering down a gold-trimmed red carpet followed by some company exec in a suit a couple of sizes too small. Behind them were Ilana and his father.

In flaming red hair this time, Ilana flashed a broad smile as she linked an arm with Matt. Wearing her usual body-hugging outfit, her hair flowing down her back, she stood between the men as newsers shouted questions and requests.

Not only did Ilana know Matt, but she knew his father too. Brandon never shared many details about his business trips. Now Jon knew why.

Realization was like a punch in the gut. She had to be the woman Cat saw on the mine s
ecurity monitor replay.

All the tears, the stories and the sex had been to manipulate him into helping her get away. Did she have the crystal on her when they'd left on the shuttle? Or maybe she'd passed it along to an accomplice on Demeter.

There was another possibility. His father had taken the crystal and had done the robbery with her.

No. Jon could never accept that.
Brandon wasn't a thief.

His father had always been there for him. Doing everything he could to help Jon open his club, even though he didn't agree with the decision.
Brandon wasn't like the other self-absorbed, power-hungry company executives. He never had been.

"Abort search. Contact Matt Bento."

It took less than a minute for Matt's face to appear on the screen.

"I got your message," Jonathan announced.

"Jonathan! I'm so glad you're all right. Where are you?"

"Who sent those men to the Emerald Club?"

Matt shook his head back and forth, his eyes unfocused. "You've got to get off Hathor right away. Come over here and I'll keep you safe until the shuttle leaves. I promised Estrella--"

"Don't mention her name. If she knew what you were going to do, she'd never have co
ntacted you."

"I'm begging you! You've got to come back to my apartment. I know what happened to
Brandon."

"Tell me now!"

"No. You have to come here. I can't tell you over the network. Tell me where you are and I'll send a transport."

Matt looked like he was on the verge of crying. It might've been quite convincing if Jonathan didn't know better. "Wait there. I'll come when I can."

"Okay, Jon. I'll be here." Matt disconnected.

Going back to Matt's place would be like walking into a trap. It was a stupid thing to do. But he had no other choice.

 

*****

 

When Nadira returned, Jonathan was slumped on the couch. He glared at her as she a
pproached.

"You took your time getting back," he snapped.

"I thought you might want your things from the Emerald Club." She tossed his travel bag on the cushions next to him. "You used my tablet."

"So?"

"Why did you delete the message?" she asked, staring down at him.

"How do you know about it?"

"Mr. Renard saw it when I was at the hotel. You deleted it."

"It was a private message."

Reasoning with Jon was like trying to maneuver through an obstacle course. "You took a big risk doing that."

Jonathan jumped up. Gripping the drawstring of his pants, he pulled the cord so tight Nadira thought he would break it. "You left me here like a criminal in a lockup. What was I su
pposed to do?"

"No one knows you're staying with me. All communications on the network can be traced," Nadira shot back.

"So I'm just supposed to wait for you to protect me while I hide in your apartment?"

She needed to put up a shield between herself and the o
nslaught of his frustration. Everything would spiral out of control if she reacted. "What was in the message? Who sent it?"

"Tell me why I should trust you," he said.

"You should trust me because I'm protecting you. That's why you're here."

He didn't respond right away, but when he did it was with an air of resignation. "Matt sent me a warning about the attack. I talked to him. If I meet him at his place he'll tell me what happened to my father."

"Then he knows who sent the guards. Jonathan, you can't go back there. It's dangerous."

"Company security won't stop him. He's a powerful man here."

"Matt Bento doesn't have all the power on Hathor," she said.

Jon's expression softened a bit. Maybe she could get him to stop and think b
efore he dealt with Bento. 

"Let's think it through first. Then we'll decide what to do. If you still want to go to Matt's, I'll go with you."

"No."

"As I said, if you want to go to Matt's, I will be going with you. Get it?"

He shook his head, a tight smile on his lips.  "Yeah, I get it."

BUZZZZZ

Nadira froze, her eyes locked with Jonathan's. It was a warning from the alert she'd set up. Designed to detect visitors based on facial recognition. It had been in place for years, though she'd never had to use it until now.

Rushing to the window nearest the door, she called out a co
mmand. "Show me the front door security monitor!"

The window darkened, then displayed a view of the sidewalk in front of the building. Security monitors regularly captured the a
ctivities around the residence. A very convenient feature to have in this case. 

A shiny, grey transport vehicle was parked at the curb. And standing next to it was the pe
rson who had triggered the alert. 

It was Zina.

 

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