Authors: Kyle Pratt
Coyly she raised an
eyebrow. “Some things a girl needs to keep secret.”
The smell of the
food wafted over the apartment as Justin finished setting the table. He called
over his shoulder, “Come on Mara, she’ll be here any minute.”
The door to Mara’s
bedroom opened and she leaned against the doorframe wearing a pastel blue dress
that draped from one shoulder. “How do I look?” Pearls dangled from her ears
and graced her neck.
He turned and looked
her up and down. “You shine up pretty bright, Sis.”
I wonder where the knife
is.
Images of Naomi in the dress and pearls floated through his mind. He
smiled.
Mara smiled back.
“Well, I want to look good for you and,” she said flatly, “your date.”
“It’s not a date.”
She shrugged as the
housesys
announced their visitor. A
holo
image appeared of Naomi wearing the same green
coveralls she had worn for days.
Justin opened the
door with a broad smile.
Golden tan-colored
walls greeted Naomi as she entered their home. Her eyes slowly swept the room.
“The quarters I’ve seen here have all been cramped and gray, but this is a nice
size for two and the mix of colors is very warm and pleasant.”
“That’s my brother.
He’s always had a bright eye for color and design.”
For several minutes,
they talked and walked, slowly about the living room. Naomi stopped in
front of each sketch or painting that hung on the wall. Most were of valleys,
rivers, mountains, and brooks.
“Who is this?” she
asked, looking at a picture of an older man with gray hair and beard in a green
military style uniform.
“It may be someone
from my past.” He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I painted it from several
vague memories and a bit of imagination.”
Naomi smiled and
started to move on, but Mara stepped forward. The two almost collided. Mara’s
gaze locked on the picture. “Look at the medallion around his neck.”
“So?” Justin asked.
Mara pointed to the
picture, then to the medal around Naomi’s neck.
Justin’s eyes
narrowed as he looked between the two. The medallion that hung from the collar
of the man was similar to the one that hung around the neck of Naomi. Both were
gold and etched with two intersecting arcs. The ends of the lines on the right
side extended beyond the meeting point and created the simple outline of a fish
in profile.
Both Mara and Justin
stared at her and the object that hung from her neck.
Naomi clutched the
medal. “It was my father’s. He gave it to me.” She stepped back and released it
between her breasts. “I did not steal it.”
“No,” Justin said,
waving a hand. “I didn’t think you did. I don’t even know who this man is.”
“Strange
coincidence, that’s for sure,” Mara added.
He nodded. “Do you
know anything about it?”
She shook her head.
“It is just a trinket.” Stepping back again, she turned to the table. “The food
looks lovely.”
“Yes.” Justin’s
thoughts still lingered on the medallion, but he tried to smile politely. “You should
recognize several of the items. These,” he said pointing to a dish of mixed
vegetables,” are terra-form varieties from Earth
“I recognize peas
and corn, but I’m not from Earth.”
Justin’s eyebrow
rose slightly. “Oh?”
“No, Epsilon. My
family is from Epsilon,” she said as they sat around the table.
*
*
*
“That was the best
meal I’ve had in many days,” Naomi said, looking at Justin. “Did you cook it?”
“No,” he started
clearing the table, “Mara is the brighter cook.”
As Justin
returned with a strawberry cake for dessert, Mara asked the first substantive
question of the evening, “Why were you traveling outside of the Empire?”
“My father was on
his way to
Gatewai
. I just went along.”
“Really?”
Justin’s eyes
widened in surprise, “Your father was going out beyond the CFS?”
She nodded.
“Does that ancient
jump-gate work?” Justin asked as he sat.
Mara shook her head.
“No, I don’t think so…”
Turning to Naomi
Justin asked, “But someone is expecting you there?”
“They were expecting
my father.” She squirmed a bit in her seat. “But I don’t know who they were.”
Mara swallowed a
bite of cake then asked. “What kind of business was your father in?”
“Terraforming.”
She smiled. “He was
a freelance engineer.”
“You must have been
very proud of him.”
“I thought they had
given up terraforming that system.” He turned to Naomi. “Your father…what did
you say his name was?”
“Ah,
Saul, Dr. Carl Saul.”
“Oh?” He rubbed his
chin.
“Have you heard of
him?” Mara asked.
Justin shook his
head slowly. “No.”
“It was a
small consulting business,” Naomi added.
Justin stood and
collected the plates from the table, balancing them on his arm like a
waiter. Still leaning over the table he said, “Your father must have
business associates back in the empire, have you been able to contact any of
them?”
Her eyes slid down.
“Not yet.”
Mara frowned. “I’m
sure you will soon, but you’re welcome to stay here as long…”
Naomi shook her
head. “As soon as I have the money and can make the arrangements I would like
to leave.” She bit her lip. “That did not come out right.” Her eyes darted
between them. “You have both been very kind, but I really cannot stay here.”
“Of course,” Mara
said. “We understand, but until you can return home, do let us know if you need
anything. I’m sure Justin or I can help.”
Naomi fumbled with
her fork. “Thank you for the meal, but it is late. I should go.”
Mara stood, “Come
on.” Reaching out, she took her arm. “I’ll walk with you back to your
quarters.” As they walked toward the door she looked Naomi up and
down. “You’re about my size and build. Could you use some clothes?”
Naomi
chuckled. “Well maybe something to wear when I recycle this.”
As they left, Justin
walked to the counter and poured himself a drink. With a quick tilt of the head,
he poured the golden brew down. The hair on the back of Justin’s neck
still bristled, and that feeling, that old feeling in the pit of his stomach,
lingered. He poured himself another drink then shook his head. He didn’t want
to believe it, but he knew it was so. Naomi’s whole story had been a lie.
Justin bolted
upright in bed. His eyes darted to every corner of the room, but he heard no
sound or movement. With one hand he wiped cold sweat and drool from his
face. Dim light came in through the window overlooking the main
passageway, but otherwise the room was dark.
What woke me?
He
looked at his clock beside the bed. The power was out.
Help!
Mara’s voice shouted
inside his head. For a moment he thought it was his imagination, but it came
again as if she were inside his brain. He jumped from bed, grabbed a gun and
his pants, and ran down the hall to her room. It was empty, the bed
unused.
Where are you?
Then he knew. Somehow, he knew. Justin turned and
headed for the cargo bay. Gun in
hand,
he stumbled
down the stairs while pulling on his pants.
Don’t shoot your foot!
The pale glow of
backup lights met him as he emerged from the stairwell on the main level. The
air lock to the first cargo bay was open. Using two hands he snapped his gun to
the ready position as he stepped into the tiny compartment and heard Naomi
scream in pain.
He hunched low,
moved into the bay, and darted swiftly behind a tool caddie. He scanned the
room. The women were outnumbered, but they didn’t appear to need much help.
Mara’s knife protruded from the chest of a man on the deck before him. A few
meters away Mara, still in her dress, had her hands tight around the throat of
a man. Someone grabbed her from behind. Mara head-butted him then kneed the man
before her in the groin.
Both men stumbled.
Mara hit the one
before her as Justin shot the one behind.
On the far side of
the bay, Naomi pounced on the throat of one man, performed a perfect pirouette,
and shattered the jaw of another. His blood painted the bulkhead beside
him. She grabbed a metal bar and used it to catapult herself onto her
next victim. Remembering their first meeting in the utility room, he smiled.
The
woman sure likes metal pipes.
Mara was street
brawling while Naomi performed a dance of destruction. Justin smiled,
then
saw
Ferren
moving toward
Naomi. He fired his weapon, just missing the pirate’s head. He cursed as the
fat blob ducked behind a crate.
The women were
mopping up the last of the other men.
Rage consumed
Justin. He marched across the bay firing his gun. He cursed the pirate.
You’re
the cause of this!
*
*
*
“Justin,” Mara
shouted from across the bay, then in a softer tone, as if to gently awaken
someone, she repeated herself. “Justin.”
Justin’s eyes
followed his outstretched arm as it reached into the air. His hand seemed
to hold something, but it was empty. Only then did he realize that
Ferren
hung in the air, two meters above his empty
grasp. The bloated bag of bilge turned a pastel shade of blue as his
fingers frantically clawed and scratched at the invisible hand that held him
high by the throat. Justin looked from the pirate to Mara.
“How?”
Ferren
fell to the ground
and gasped.
Two meters away, a
look of astonishment spread across Mara’s face.
Naomi’s eyes grew
wide with fear. “Are you a
Nephilim
?” She
backed away.
Ferren
again gulped air,
then shouted, “Titan,” and stumbled backward.
Naomi and
Ferren
ran in opposite directions. Mara chased after
Ferren
, but the fat pirate like a cockroach motivated by
terror and self-preservation, darted through a hatch and slammed it shut.
Crashing into it,
Mara cursed. When she managed to open it he was gone. She cursed
again and locked it.
“Naomi, help me shut
and locked the hatches.”
Justin looked over
the bay. Ten dead, and dying, men littered the deck. “She’s gone,” he said then
melted to the floor.
Mara ran for the
nearest hatch.
Justin, his strength
spent, knew he should get up, but instead, continued to lay face up, gazing at
an emergency light while replaying the battle in his mind.
How did I hold
Ferren
in the air?
He shook his head.
No logical
answer came to him.
How did the girls kill ten, armed men?
Naomi was
clearly a trained fighter, but they could have shot her.
They wanted her
alive. No!
Ferren
wanted both of the women alive,
Naomi for the mysterious buyer from Earth and Mara for himself.
Still his mind was
troubled: Ten men should be more than capable of handling two women, even if
one was a well-trained fighter and the other a good brawler.
Slowly he sat up and
began reloading his gun while still pondering the fight. The regular lights
came on Mara entered the docking bay. Standing a few meters from Justin she
haltingly asked, “Are you all right?”
Still sitting on the
floor, he breathed heavily then placed the gun on the deck. For the first
time he noticed her dress was torn and bloodstained. He clutched the damp
material. “Is this your blood?”
“No. Come on, we
should leave here.”
He tried to stand.
“However I did that,” he held up his arm as he did when
Ferren
floated above him, “it drained me. I can’t focus. My arms are like lead
weights.” His arm dropped to the ground. “All I want to do is rest, but I think
I’m okay—or will be.” He looked at the spot where
Ferren
had dropped to the deck. “How did I do that?”
“I don’t know, but
we’ll deal with it together.”
“Naomi thinks I’m
one of the
Nephilim
.”
She smiled. “They’re
a myth.”
“Am I a Titan?”
“You’re not a cloned
killer.”
“Killer?” he mumbled.
Memories of Garrett, their former owner, flashed through his mind.
“Yeah,” she looked
at him strangely. “You know, supposedly the Titans had god-like powers they
used to kill their enemies.”