City Of Tears (10 page)

“She kept badgering me about her objective.” If the overlord wanted to play games, Lyrik was ready. “Her training has conditioned her not to think independently from her mission. She’s searching for someone who can define her objective. That should buy us some time.”

“Two days.” Cyrus turned toward his workstation controls. “Here are the locations you requested. You have seventy-two hours, then I issue a long range search-and-destroy.”

Everything within Lyrik balked at the phrase. They’d hunt her down like a rabid animal and blast her to the Night Moon. “Did you inject her with a micryte?” Lyric asked hopefully. “Is there any way to track her armor?”

“Negative on both. Her implants disintegrated the micryte seconds after it was injected. She’s an amazing piece of … Find her. You’re the only hope we have of bringing her back alive.”

The vidscreen blinked off, and Lyrik swiveled his chair away from the control console. Damn it to hell! Saebin wasn’t a piece of equipment, and no one was going to treat her like one. He released his safety restraints and stood, fishing in his pocket for the injector. Sabotaging his micryte would end his career and make him a target as well as Saebin. Still, Saebin couldn’t fight this battle alone. He raised the injector to the side of his neck and pushed.

Saebin followed Dro Tar into the eating area of her living quarters, her gaze darting about the room. Twisting vines with colorful flowers decorated the tops of the cupboards and most of the ceiling. “How do they remain suspended?”

Dro Tar smiled. “They’re not real. There’s a holographic projector in each corner. I have several hundred images catalogued. I was in a jungley mood this morning. Would you like me to change it?”

“But it smells like … rain.”

“That’s part of the program. Are you hungry?”

Saebin only nodded. Her entire life had been spent inside the Center. She wasn’t even certain how long she’d been a prisoner in ward D. In the course of one day, she’d been on an inhabitable moon, in a toxic valley, and now this … her current surroundings defied description.

“Anything in particular strike your fancy?”

There she went again. “Where did you learn Earthish?”

Dro Tar smiled as she arranged dishes and slender envelopes on the counter in front of her. “I visited Earth for the first time when we rescued your Aunt Charlotte. Has anyone told you about her?” Saebin shook her head, watching closely as Dro Tar spread the contents of the packages over the plates. “Well, she just happens to be High Queen of this here planet.”

“High Queen? My aunt is the ruler of Ontariese?”

“Sort of.” Dro Tar laughed. “You’ll get that a lot. Ontariese is filled with ‘sort ofs.’ The short answer is, she’s the driving force behind the Joint Council, and the Joint Council runs the place.”

“Then Krysta is her niece as well?”

“Yep.” She put one of the plates in a metallic compartment and paused as the compartment hummed. “Have you met Krysta?”

The image of the dark-haired woman sprawled on the interrogation floor flashed through Saebin’s mind. “Sort of.”

Dro Tar laughed, and the compartment beeped. Opening the door, she retrieved the plate, now filled with steaming food. She handed it to Saebin. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“How did you do that?”

“You’ve never seen a rehydrator before?”

Saebin inhaled the fragrant steam. “What is this?”

“Some chemist’s idea of pot roast. It’s nutritious and all, but there ain’t nothing like the real thing.” She motioned toward the small table protruding from the wall. “Go ahead. It tastes better hot. I’ll just be a sec.”

After taking several bites of the synthetic pot roast, Saebin tried to decide where to begin. Warring factions and disproportionate populations, Joint Councils and reclusive Mystics, there was so much she needed to understand. And while she focused on recon, the overlord would continue his search.

“Did Lyrik tell you what happened during the war?” Dro Tar asked.

“He mentioned a biological weapon while we were in the storm shelter, but he didn’t go into detail. I have scattered bits of information in my mind, but so much of it makes no sense.”

Dro Tar joined Saebin at the table and explained in between bites of pot roast. “Let’s just start at the beginning and catch you up to date. Ontariese has been matriarchal for longer than anyone can remember.”

“Matriarchal?”

“Ownership, titles, important distinctions are passed from mother to daughter. When couples become life mates, the man takes on the woman’s family name.”

“Why is this important?”

Dro Tar paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “Damn good question. The Traditionalist Sect will tell you females give birth, and females are often able to discern what Mystic gifts their life mate will possess, so they —”

“What if the male you favor possesses no Mystic gifts at all?”

“You’ll have to have a sit down with Tal. He’s Trey’s brother and one scary son of a bitch when he chooses to be, but he understands the history of the Great Conflict better than anyone I know.”

“I’ve distracted you from your explanation.” Saebin pushed her plate aside. “What caused the Great Conflict?”

“The Traditionalist Sect believed that Ontariese should remain true to its customs and traditions, to value the greater good above all things. The Reformation Sect wanted to shake things up.”

“Do you agree with the Reformation Sect?”

“The Reformation Sect — like the NRS — had some valid points. They just did horrible things to demonstrate their ideas.” Dro Tar fidgeted in her chair. Saebin wasn’t sure if the topic made her uncomfortable, or if she simply hated inactivity. “E’Lanna dar Aune, your grandmother, chose Frim dar Joon as her life mate. Frim bonded with her, but refused to take on her name or follow the traditions she held sacred.”

Not wanting to draw Dro Tar off course again, Saebin waited to see if the rest of the story answered her questions.

“E’Lanna tried everything to make their joining work, but Frim had no intention of playing by the rules. Shortly after their twins were born, she set him aside. He formed the Reformation Sect and founded the House of Joon. For a while the conflict centered on their differing ideals, but Frim became progressively more abusive. He knew his empire couldn’t flourish if women remained in power, so he launched his campaign to wipe out the Traditionalist Sect.” Her voice grew hushed, and she glanced away from Saebin’s face.

“What happened?”

“Frim captured E’Lanna’s eldest daughter.”

“Captured? Wasn’t she his child, too?”

Dro Tar nodded. “Her father ordered her execution. The Mystics hid their middle daughter, but E’lanna refused to take chances with the twins. She opened an interdimensional portal and sent them to separate destinations. She sent your Aunt Charlotte to Earth early in the twenty-first century. Your mother, Krystabel, she also sent to Earth, but two hundred years later.”

“Krystabel was not my mother.” Tension gripped her abdomen and scooted her chair back from the table. “Joleen was my mother.”

“Joleen carried you in her body, but your biological parents were Krystabel and Gath.”

Pushing back from the table, Saebin stood and moved out of the eating area. Dro Tar had no reason to lie — did she? Saebin had told no one about hearing Krystabel’s voice when she awakened from stasis. Had that been more than a dream? Pain erupted in her temples, and she pressed the heel of her hands against the spot.

Dro Tar reached for her shoulder. Saebin twisted away.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t speak.” She had to process the information. She was on the brink of overload.

An image formed within her mind. Twin faces, young, innocent, identical in every way except the color of their eyes. Krysta and Belle. They were the daughters of Krystabel and Gath. Her mother was Joleen.

A chime sounded, and Dro Tar called out something Saebin didn’t recognize. Saebin stumbled blindly toward the nearest chair. Other images flashed, each accompanied by a stab of pain. Lyrik called her name as her legs gave out beneath her. His voice sounded distorted and distant. The room undulated in and out of focus. Sparkles of color burst before her eyes. Bracing herself against the floor, she rode the Mystic wave.

“Saebin?” Lyrik tried again. “Can you hear me?”

She tried to respond, but the vision expanded, encompassing everything else.

Krystabel’s battered body lay before her on a treatment table. Saebin shuddered as she imagined the abuse the older woman must have endured.

“Heal the female, D-159. Heal her now!” Saebin had never seen Dr. Hydran so agitated. He wrung his hands and rocked on the balls of his feet.

“Healing is not an acceptable objective for —”

“Any objective I give you is acceptable. I know healing was within your abilities before you volunteered for the elite projects. Use your implants to strengthen your power and heal this female.”

Saebin moved closer to the treatment table and extended her hands. Splaying her fingers, she kept her hands positioned just above Krystabel’s body. There was no breath, no pulsing of life through Krystabel’s veins. She pushed deeper, intensified the sensitivity of her receptors. The faintest trail of energy disappeared into the distance. Krystabel’s spirit had departed, yet it didn’t feel like death. Somehow Krystabel had escaped.

“I sense no life in this body,” she said softly. “Even my implants can’t raise the dead.”

Hydran screamed, his face contorting in maniacal rage. He slapped Saebin, knocking her to the floor as he shook Krystabel’s body. “You crafty bitch! You think you’ve won, but you haven’t. I will find another way.” He shoved her down on the table and straightened his uniform top. Turning to glare at Saebin, he repeated, “I will find another way.”

Lyrik knelt beside Saebin as she huddled on the floor. She flinched away from his lightest touch, so he just stayed near her.

“Does she do this often?” Dro Tar asked; her voice hushed with concern.

“I think she’s having a vision. What were you talking about?”

“Lots of things. History, Krysta, her mother.”

“When did she go into —”

Saebin lifted her head and looked around, her expression muddled. “Where … are we?”

“At Dro Tar’s flat. You were in some sort of trance.”

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she struggled to her feet. Lyrik reached for her, but she warned him back with an upraised hand. “I’m on the verge of overload.”

“How can we help you?” he asked. “What do you need?”

“I need to assimilate the information. My memory is returning in sporadic fragments.”

They fell silent. Lyrik helped Saebin to a chair and bent to one knee beside her as Dro Tar brought her a glass of water.

“I saw Krystabel.” Saebin took a sip, then handed the glass back to Dro Tar. “She had been beaten, horribly abused. Dr. Hydran insisted I heal her, but there was nothing I could do.”

“I’m sorry.” Lyrik closed his fingers around her hand, relieved when she didn’t pull away. Charlotte insisted Krystabel was still alive, but Krysta had sensed her death. Lyrik didn’t know what to think. “Did you remember anything else?”

Saebin took several deep breaths and met his gaze. “I saw Krysta and … where is Belle?”

An uncomfortable moment passed as Lyrik shifted his gaze between Saebin and Dro Tar.

“Do you want the ‘it’s complicated’ answer or the ‘sort of’ answer?” Dro Tar asked with a gentle smile.

Saebin squeezed Lyrik’s hand, drawing his attention back to her. “Was Krystabel my mother?”

He nodded. “Joleen gave birth to you, but Krystabel and Gath —”

“Were my biological parents,” she finished for him, resting her head against the back of the chair. “Dr. Hydran wasn’t trying to cure us, was he? He was … What was he trying to do?”

“Enhance and recreate your Mystic abilities.”

Saebin slipped her fingers out from under his and rubbed her temples. Unshed tears shone in her crystal blue eyes. “My entire life has been one long experiment. I’ve been manipulated and — modified. And the experiments didn’t end when I came
home
.”

“It’s over. You’re safe now.” Lyrik felt foolish uttering the hollow reassurance, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Hydran is dead, and we’re on to your father —” She dragged in an unsteady breath. “— but my handler is still out there.”

He stood and offered her an encouraging smile. “I just happen to have the current locations of all the refugees still on Ontariese.”

“How did you manage that?” Dro Tar sounded skeptical.

“The overlord has given me two days to hunt down D-159.” He looked at Saebin, wishing he knew how to ease her anxiety, soothe her pain. “I convinced him you are searching for someone who can provide you with an acceptable objective, and another refugee is your most likely target. He also confirmed that you are untraceable even without your suit. They injected you with a micryte, but your implants disintegrated it.”

“Nice work, Commander.” Dro Tar winked at him.

* * * * *

With one guard in front of her and one behind, Ensley made her way to the laboratory. Her pulse had yet to recover from her interaction with Pern Keire. He was younger than she’d expected, yet he wore his power with effortless ease. Did Rodytes groom their leaders from birth for the roles they would assume? Her research hadn’t indicated how their rulers were chosen. Conquest? Hereditary ascension? Somehow she doubted free elections had anything to do with the process.

Neither guard spoke as they marched her through the pristine corridors. Questions bombarded her mind. How long would it take to reach the compound? Would she be assigned private quarters? She hesitated to upset the fragile balance established by the Stirate, so she silently followed the guard.

A lift delivered them to a different level, and the lead guard scanned open an unmarked door. He had triggered the door in Pern’s office with a scanner as well. She suspected she would need an escort to go anywhere on the ship.

The guards remained in the corridor as the door slid closed behind her. Compact, yet functional, the laboratory was well organized and ergonomic. She strolled along the narrow workspace, her gaze sweeping the supplies secured behind transparent doors and in wire bins.