Dark Minds (Class 5 Series Book 3) (24 page)

S
he didn't want
to separate, but if she had to, this was at least a decent reason to do so.

Imogen lifted the grilled meat on its little skewer to her mouth and bit down. Yum.

She didn't know what kind of meat it was, and she didn't care. Her body was telling her it needed this, and was overjoyed at getting it.

On the plate in front of her, there were also vegetables that had been char-grilled over an open flame, something a little like a sweet pepper, only a disconcerting brown, and something pale green, crunchy, and fresh, that didn't taste like much to her, but didn't taste bad, either.

The restaurant was full, every table held two or more people, and there was a small group milling around outside that Imogen guessed were waiting for a table to become free.

There was no back room or rear exit, the kitchen was part of the restaurant, separated from the tables by a long counter, and twice suppliers had wended their way past the tightly-packed tables carrying in boxes of ingredients.

“You like our food?” The woman who came to clear some of the dishes away was tall and thin, with dark skin. She had the silver eyes of a Balcoan but the slender, long frame of the Grih.

“I love it.” Imogen watched the woman go still at the sound of her voice, and cursed herself. She should have nodded or grunted assent. She needed to have a six-pack a day smoking habit to sound even close to Grihan.

“I know your friend,” the woman said at last. “She orders our food every day.”

“Fiona Russell?” Imogen asked. Paxe had said she was here, that he'd tried to blow up Larga Ways to kill her, but Imogen hadn't thought more about it than that. If she were forced to guess, she would have said Fiona might well be above the way station, on either Sazo's Class 5 or the Grihan battleship. Not still wandering around here.

“That's right.” The woman smiled. “She claims we're the only ones on Larga Ways who make proper food.”

“I won't argue with that.” Imogen studied the clock which was part of the information on the table. Another ten minutes before Cam was due to fetch her. Another fifteen before she had to give the table up to a group who'd reserved it earlier. “I don't suppose Fiona'll be in tonight?”

Wouldn't that be perfect?

The waitress shook her head. “No. You were lucky to get a table because you came early, but we're always booked weeks in advance. Those who want our food but can't get a seat have to place an order.” She hefted the bowls on one arm. “Can I get you anything else?”

Imogen couldn't leave until Cam arrived, so she nodded. “What's Fiona's favorite dessert?”

The waitress came round the table and stood behind her, showed her two items Fiona had chosen from the menu before. Imogen picked what looked like a light cheesecake.

When it came, she sipped her cup of grinabo, spooned up a light, mousse-like concoction that had both the scent and taste of honeydew melon, and nervously watched the clock.

Cam was nearly five minutes late. And she was going to have to leave soon. She could see the diners who'd booked her table shifting restlessly at the door.

Worry for him made the dessert she'd just eaten churn uncomfortably in her stomach. He wouldn't be late if he could help it, which meant he was held up. She hoped it was simply that it was taking him longer than he thought to find someone he trusted.

When the waitress came to take away her bowl and cup, she tapped her bracelet to the glowing blue payment circle and stood, hefting her pack over her shoulder. “I was supposed to meet a friend here, but he's late. If he comes by and asks after me later, could you tell him Imogen will meet up with him at Inita's cousin's bar?”

Not that she knew where that was, Inita had given the address to Cam, not her, but she could find out easily enough, surely? A bar was the only place she could think of that both of them could wait in without drawing too much attention, and at least they knew they would get help from the owner.

The waitress tapped her sleeve and repeated what Imogen had said, so she wouldn't get it wrong, and with a smile of thanks, Imogen stepped outside.

They'd docked in Larga Ways during the afternoon, but now the sun had slipped behind Balco and the last rays of light created a pale mauve glow in the gel dome overhead.

The lights in the square grew brighter; both the lights interwoven in the designs on the walls, and on the tables and doorways all around her.

She was in a magical place and she didn't care, because Cam still hadn't arrived.

She stood for a bit, mingling with the crowd at the door, but she could see that she was just a little too different. She got the most stares from the Grih, who she decided must be protective of children——to their credit——and her size made them assume she was young. But her shape was too feminine to be adolescent, and that made them look a second time, because the Cargassey shirt and trousers she was wearing were form-fitting, and there was no hiding her curves.

She was pretty sure Inita's comms officer had over-sold the hat, as well.

She glanced at the table nearest her, which had three Balcoans squeezed around it, and saw Cam was now twenty minutes late.

She eased back a bit, into deeper shadows, and at that moment a Balcoan stepped out of the restaurant door, two neatly bagged packages in each hand.

Deliveries.

And that got her thinking of Fiona Russell.

She wasn't coming in tonight, the waitress had said, but maybe she was ordering take-out. Imogen knew only too well this was as close to Earth as food got.

She hesitated, but she couldn't stay here much longer anyway. Someone was going to ask her a question, or notice who she was, just like the waitress had done.

And what did she have to lose? She could worry about Cam just as well on the move, doing something constructive, than waiting to be tapped on the shoulder.

She edged around the crowd, and began to follow.

The Balcoan making the deliveries called out to people as he walked, chatting and joking, but he moved quickly.

The first delivery was to a ground-floor apartment that opened straight onto the street; not one of the sleek glass high-rises, but a more quaint building with a balcony on each level, and an outside staircase that wound in a spiral up to each front door.

The person who stepped out to accept the order was neither Balcoan nor Grih, but Imogen only caught a glimpse of swirling robes and painfully thin arms before the door closed again and the delivery man continued on his way.

Cam was now thirty minutes late. At least.

She watched the Balcoan tap a screen outside the door of his next customer, and wondered if Cam was even now at the restaurant, wondering where she was.

She'd take his annoyance, as long as he was safe.

The door opened, and Imogen realized she wouldn't be able to tell if this delivery was for Fiona or not. There was no way she had a legitimate reason to gain entry to the glittering building.

The Balcoan came back out almost straight away, so she guessed he'd left the food at some sort of reception desk.

She would have to come back here if the other two didn't work out, and see what she could do.

Night had descended fully now, but as she strolled after her quarry, it became clear they were moving into an area occupied by the rarified rich. While no part of Larga Ways looked run down, aside from the damage made by the explosion, this part of the way station had the gleam and shine of serious money.

It didn't seem likely she'd find Fiona here, so while the delivery man disappeared into the building, she leaned back against the high wall behind her and breathed in the perfume of hidden gardens.

The apartment block the Balcoan had been admitted to was clad in a dark rose stone, and it took her tired, worried eyes a minute to realize the patterns woven through it were in fact fossils of the most extraordinary creatures.

Some were tiny, but most were three, four times bigger than she was. She caught glimpses of wings, of massive teeth, of delicate beaks.

The building itself stood six stories high, with a balcony on each floor. Some were lit, and from the very highest, she heard someone laugh.

She frowned. Something about that laugh niggled. She looked up, but there was no way to see over the balustrade.

The laugh came again.

It was human. A woman.

The breath caught in her throat. She walked across the street, directly in front of a door framed on both sides by bushes larger than she was, face still turned up to the sound.

She didn't know why the tears started falling, dripping from the corner of her eyes down her cheeks, because she'd hardly cried at all since she'd been abducted, but there it was again. The sweet sound of laughter.

She took another step toward the door and a hand came out of the shadows and got a bruising grip on her arm.

She cried out, her gaze flying to a Balcoan dressed in black, his silver eyes fierce and angry.

At that moment the door opened, and the delivery man stepped out.

Imogen twisted and wrenched her arm free, her hat flying off as she darted around the delivery man and smacked both hands against the door before it closed, slipping in between the narrow opening and pushing it closed behind her.

She took the stairs at a run, heard the door open and then slam shut behind her.

She had a head start, but the Balcoan was gaining on her, and by the time she reached the top floor, she was sucking in air desperately.

There was only one door on this floor and the hallway was so plush, so refined, she stumbled the last few steps, unsure now she had it right. Could Fiona Russell be here?

She slammed a fist on the door anyway. There was no going back. No going down.

“Fiona.” She tried to shout, but it came out weak and soft. “Fiona!” She slammed her fist again, looking behind her, and the door flew open.

The Balcoan hit the top step as she staggered forward, and she raised an arm against attack, wishing for the security of her whip which, only now did she remember, was stuck deep in her backpack and useless.

“Tean Lee.” Hands gripped her, set her gently aside, and Imogen finally focused on who was in front of her.

Fiona Russell, looking just like the many pictures of her in the papers when she'd gone missing, was staring over Imogen's shoulder, her eyes narrowed in fury. She pointed a finger at the Balcoan. “What do you think you're doing?”

Imogen had been set against a wall, and she let gravity take her down, sliding until her butt hit the floor, put her head on her knees, and shook.

A second pair of legs joined Fiona at the door, but Imogen didn't have it in her yet to look up and see who it was.

There was silence, and eventually curiosity overcame exhaustion, and she raised her head.

The second pair of legs belonged to Rose McKenzie, and she stood beside Fiona Russell, blocking most of Imogen's view of the Balcoan Fiona had called Tean Lee.

It was some kind of standoff.

“Ask your boss what I'm doing. It was his tip-off that had me following her.” Lee's voice was hard and defensive.

“I will. I'm too angry to say anything else to you, so good night.” Fiona slammed the door, tapped her ear. “Eazi?”

She turned and looked at Imogen, then crouched down beside her, and Rose did the same.

Her mouth straightened in a grim line. “You were terrified.” She looked deeper into the apartment, eyes narrowed for a moment, and then looked back. “This hasn't been the meeting I imagined, but please tell me, are you Imogen Peters?”

Imogen tried to hold it back, but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. She started to sob.

* * *

C
am changed back
into his Battle Center uniform in a public cubicle and then made his way to Larga Ways Security. He'd been there once before, to liaise with Tean Lee, the station chief, and he found it easily again.

It was built in utilitarian fashion, probably one of the most boring buildings on the way station, but it fit in, nevertheless, with its dark blue glass skin and lights that spiraled in complex patterns up the sides.

A large piece of debris from the explosion had obviously landed in the street near the entrance, gouged the road, and come through the security building's front entrance.

It had been set to one side, and was so melted and twisted, Cam couldn't work out what it might once have been.

Another thing that hadn't been there last time Cam had been here was the perimeter of guards around the building. They were all alert, too alert for it to be anything but an emergency situation.

What could be spooking the security forces this much?

There was a Fitalian battleship and a Class 5 behind Gu-gijeron, not to mention a Tecran battleship just beyond the Balco system, but twenty guards around a building on Larga Ways wasn't going to stop either threat.

He reached for a shockgun barrel that wasn't there, and a wave of frustration washed over him at being without his weapon.

He would have to do this a different way. There would be no sneaking into the building with this level of security, so his best bet was to wait around for a Battle Center employee to approach the building, and stop them before they got there.