Holmes (18 page)

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Preview: Among Galactic Ruins

As the descending starship hit turbulence, Dr. Alexa Carter gasped, her stomach jumping.

But she didn’t feel sick, she felt
exhilarated
.

She stared out the window at the sand dunes of the planet below. Zerzura. The legendary planet packed with danger, mystery and history.

She was
finally
here. All she could see was sand dune, after yellow sand dune, all the way off into the distance. The dual suns hung in the sky, big and full—one gold and one red—baking the ground below.

But there was more to Zerzura than that. She knew, from all her extensive history training as an astro-archeologist, that the planet was covered in ruins—some old and others beyond ancient. She knew every single one of the myths and legends.

She glanced down at her lap and clutched the Sync communicator she was holding. Right here she had her ticket to finding an ancient Terran treasure.

Lexa thumbed the screen. She’d found the slim, ancient vase in the museum archives and initially thought nothing of the lovely etchings of priestesses on the side of it.

Until she’d finished translating the obscure text.

She’d been gobsmacked when she realized the text gave her clues that not only formed a map, but also described what the treasure was at the end. A famed Fabergé egg.

Excitement zapped like electricity through her veins. After a career spent mostly in the Galactic Institute of Historical Preservation and on a few boring digs in the central systems, she was now the curator of the Darend Museum on Zeta Volantis—a private and well-funded museum that was mostly just a place for her wealthy patron, Marius Darend, to house his extensive, private collection of invaluable artifacts from around the galaxy.

But like most in the galaxy, he had a special obsession with old Earth artifacts. When she’d gone to him with the map and proposal to go on a treasure hunt to Zerzura to recover it, he’d been more than happy to fund it.

So here she was, Dr. Alexa Carter, on a treasure hunt.

Her father, of course, had almost had a coronary when she’d told her parents she’d be gone for several weeks. That familiar hard feeling invaded her belly. Baron Carter did not like his only daughter working, let alone being an astro-archeologist, and he
really
didn’t like her going to a planet like Zerzura. He’d ranted about wild chases and wastes of time, and predicted her failure.

She straightened in her seat. She’d been ignoring her father’s disapproval for years. When she had the egg in her hands, then he’d have to swallow his words.

Someone leaned over her, a broad shoulder brushing hers. “Strap in, Princess, we’re about to land.”

Lexa’s excitement deflated a little. There was just one fly in her med gel.

Unfortunately, Marius had insisted she bring along the museum’s new head of security. She didn’t know much about Damon Malik, but she knew she didn’t like him. The rumor among the museum staff was that he had a super-secret military background.

She looked at him now, all long, and lean and dark. He had hair as black as her own, but skin far darker. She couldn’t see him in the military. His manner was too…well, she wasn’t sure what, exactly, but he certainly didn’t seem the type to happily take orders.

No, he preferred to be the one giving them.

He shot her a small smile, but it didn’t reach his dark eyes. Those midnight-blue eyes were always…intense. Piercing. Like he was assessing everything, calculating. She found it unsettling.

“I’m already strapped in, Mr. Malik.” She tugged on her harness and raised a brow.

“Just checking. I’m here to make sure you don’t get hurt on this little escapade.”

“Escapade?” She bit her tongue and counted to ten. “We have a map leading to the location of a very valuable artifact. That’s hardly an escapade.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Princess.” He shot a glance at the window and the unforgiving desert below. “This is a foolish risk for some silly egg.”

She huffed out a breath. Infuriating man. “Why get a job at a museum if you think artifacts are silly?”

He leaned back in his seat. “Because I needed a change. One where no one tried to kill me.”

Kill him? She narrowed her eyes and wondered again just what the hell he’d done before he’d arrived at the Darend.

A chime sounded and the pilot’s voice filtered into the plush cabin of Marius’ starship. “Landing at Kharga spaceport in three minutes. Hang on, ladies and gentlemen.”

Excitement filled Lexa’s belly. Ignoring the man beside her, she looked out the window again.

The town of Kharga was visible now. They flew directly over it, and she marveled at the primitive look and the rough architecture. The buildings were made of stone—some simple squares, others with domed roofs, and some a haphazard sprawl of both. In the dirt-lined streets, ragged beasts were led by robed locals, and battered desert speeders flew in every direction, hovering off the ground.

It wasn’t advanced and yes, it was rough and dangerous. So very different to the marble-lined floors and grandeur of the Darend Museum or the Institute’s huge, imposing museums and research centers. And it was the complete opposite of the luxury she’d grown up with in the central systems.

She barely resisted bouncing in her seat like a child. She couldn’t
wait
to get down there. She wasn’t stupid, she knew there were risks, but could hold her own and she knew when to ask for help.

The ship touched down, a cloud of dust puffing past the window. Lexa ripped her harness off, trying—and failing—to contain her excitement.

“Wait.” Damon grabbed her arm and pulled her back from the opening door. “I’ll go first.”

As he moved forward, she pulled a face at his broad back.
Arrogant know-it-all.

The door opened with a quiet hiss. She watched him stop at the top of the three steps that had extended from the starship. He scanned the spaceport…well, spaceport was a generous word for it. Lexa wasn’t sure the sandy ground, beaten-up starships lined up beside them, and the battered buildings covered with black streaks—were those laser scorch marks?—warranted the term spaceport, but it was what it was.

Damon checked the laser pistols holstered at his lean hips then nodded. “All right.” He headed down the steps.

Lexa tugged on the white shirt tucked into her fitted khaki pants. Mr. Dark and Brooding might be dressed in all black, but she’d finally pulled her rarely used expedition clothes out of her closet for the trip. She couldn’t wait to get them dirty. She tucked her Sync into her small backpack, swung the bag over her shoulder and headed down the stairs.

“Our contact is supposed to meet us here.” She looked around but didn’t see anyone paying them much attention. A rough-looking freighter crew lounged near a starfreighter that didn’t even look like it could make it off the ground. A couple of robed humanoids argued with three smaller-statured reptilians. “He’s a local treasure hunter called Brocken Phoenix.”

Damon grunted. “Looks like he’s late. I suggest we head to the central market and ask around.”

“Okay.” She was eager to see more of Kharga and soak it all in.

“Stay close to me.”

Did he have to use that autocratic tone all the time? She tossed him a salute.

Something moved through his dark eyes before he shook his head and started off down the dusty street.

As they neared the market, the crowds thickened. The noise increased as well. People had set up makeshift stalls, tables, and tents and were selling…well, just about everything.

There was a hawker calling out the features of his droids. Lexa raised a brow. The array available was interesting—from stocky maintenance droids to life-like syndroids made to look like humans. Other sellers were offering clothes, food, weapons, collectibles, even dragon bones.

Then she saw the cages.

She gasped. “Slavers.”

Damon looked over and his face hardened. “Yeah.”

The first cage held men. All tall and well-built. Laborers. The second held women. Anger shot through her. “It can’t be legal.”

“We’re a long way from the central systems, Princess. You’ll find lots of stuff here on Zerzura that isn’t legal.”

“We have to—”

He raised a lazy brow. “Do something? Unless you’ve got a whole bunch of e-creds I don’t know about or an army in your back pocket, there isn’t much we can do.”

Her stomach turned over and she looked away. He might be right, but did he have to be so cold about it?

“Look.” He pointed deeper into the market at a dusty, domed building with a glowing neon sign above the door. “That bar is where I hear the treasure hunters gather.”

She wondered how he’d heard anything about the place when they’d only been dirtside a few minutes. But she followed him toward the bar, casting one last glance at the slaves.

As they neared the building, a body flew outward through the arched doorway. The man hit the dirt, groaning. He tried to stand before flopping face first back into the sand.

Even from where they stood, Lexa smelled the liquor fumes wafting off him. Nothing smooth and sweet like what was available back on Zeta Volantis. No, this smelled like homebrewed rotgut.

Damon stepped over the man with barely a glance. At the bar entrance, he paused. “I think you should stay out here. It’ll be safer. I’ll find out what I can about Phoenix and be right back.”

She wanted to argue, but right then, two huge giants slammed out of the bar, wrestling each other. One was an enormous man, almost seven feet tall, with some aquatic heritage. He had pale-blue skin, large, wide-set eyes and tiny gills on the side of his neck. His opponent was human with a mass of dreadlocked brown hair, who stood almost as tall and broad.

The human slammed a giant fist into the aquatic’s face, shouting in a language Lexa’s lingual implant didn’t recognize. That’s when Lexa realized the dreadlocked man was actually a woman.

A security droid floated out of the bar. Its laser weapons swiveled to aim at the fighting pair. “You are no longer welcome at the Desert Dragon. Please vacate the premises.”

Grumbling, the fighters pulled apart, then shuffled off down the street.

Lexa swallowed. “Fine. I’ll stay out here.”

“Stay close,” Damon warned.

She tossed him another mock salute and when he scowled, she felt a savage sense of satisfaction. Then he turned and ducked inside.

She turned back to study the street. One building down, she saw a stall holder standing behind a table covered in what looked like small artifacts. Lexa’s heart thumped. She had to take a look.

“All original. Found here on Zerzura.” The older man spread his arms out over his wares. “Very, very old.” His eyes glowed in his ageless face topped by salt-and-pepper hair. “Very valuable.”

“May I?” Lexa indicated a small, weathered statue.

The man nodded. “But you break, you buy.”

Lexa studied the small figurine. It was supposed to resemble a Terran fertility statue—a woman with generous hips and breasts. She tested the weight of it before she sniffed and set it down. “It’s not a very good fake. I’d say you create a wire mesh frame, set it in a mold, then pour a synthetic plas in. You finish it off by spraying it with some sort of rock texture.”

The man’s mouth slid into a frown.

Lexa studied the other items. Jewelry, small boxes and inscribed stones. She fingered a necklace. It was by no means old but it was pretty.

Then she spotted it.

A small, red egg, covered in gold-metalwork and resting on a little stand.

She picked it up, cradling its slight weight. The craftwork was terrible but there was no doubt it was a replica of a Fabergé egg.

“What is this?” she asked the man.

He shrugged. “Lots of myths about the Orphic Priestesses around here. They lived over a thousand years ago and the egg was their symbol.”

Lexa stroked the egg.

The man’s keen eyes narrowed in on her. “It’s a pretty piece. Said to be made in the image of the priestesses’ most valuable treasure, the Goddess Egg. It was covered in Terran rubies and gold.”