Jason King: Agent to the Stars 1: The Enclaves of Sylox (7 page)

It was obvious my date was feeling the effects of the alien wine. I was, too, but not to such a degree. That was perfectly okay by me.

“Fine, I’ll finish the story, but after that I really do need to get you back to your apartment. I think you’re feeling the wine a little too much … and you need to get to bed.”

‘Ooh, bed. That’s sounds wonderful.” She leaned back in the booth, a sparkle in her eyes.

I looked at her for a long moment, taking in all her smoldering sultriness. Damn, she was beautiful. I hurried to finish my story.

“I had another ex-Army buddy who had gone to work for Pulte at one of their huge subdivisions outside Vegas; it’s actually Quint, Quint Valarie, my business partner here. As you said, the economy was booming at the time and the builders were going nuts. Quint was making a small fortune, so I got a real estate license and joined him.”

“So … you
are
a money-grubbing vulture!”

“That’s right, and soon I was their
top
money-grubbing vulture.”

“Seriously, how did that happen?”

“I don’t really know; I guess I’m just a natural at sales. But in reality, real estate isn’t selling per se. I consider myself more of a facilitator; people come to me saying they want to buy a home, and I simply help make it happen. I found a lot of satisfaction in the business. I was helping people make their dreams come true, and Pulte built a pretty good product.”

“But now you’re halfway across the galaxy. That’s quite a leap.” Miranda burst out laughing, finding what she had just said to be hilarious – if only to her.

I was finding her beauty and relaxed openness to be intoxicating – along with the wine.

“As you know, with more and more Humans beginning to populate the Union, we had to find places to live, and alien homes are not always that compatible for us. You’ve seen what they’re like! Well, the major home builders on Earth saw a great opportunity. I was still young and restless, and pretty excited about the prospect of leaving the planet and traveling to the stars. So I volunteered to help with the development teams that were opening up new markets on some on the nearby Union worlds.”

“But there aren’t that many close to Earth,” Miranda countered. I was surprised she knew that, until I remembered her college major.

“That’s right, and only so many with the proper environment for Humans to live on. I spent eight months on a planet called Elipsion-C before transferring to Sylox with the first group of developers to come here. That was seven years ago, and for the past five I’ve run my own brokerage and mortgage company.”

I leaned in closer to the sultry woman and locked my eyes on hers. “Now that we’re done with all the foreplay, maybe we can get down to some real business.”

Her mouth fell open slightly and I fixated on her sexy bottom lip. She flicked out her tongue and ran it over her lips, coating them with a shimmering, moist sheen. “Lead the way, Mr. King,” she breathed deeply. “I’m in no condition to drive.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that handled.”

We left the restaurant in a rush; I’m not even sure if I paid the bill. If not, I’m sure Belgon would understand.

Chapter 9

The Embassy Compound was only a quick five minute drive from the restaurant. Everyone there knew me, so I was waved through the gate without much fanfare.

Since I had met Miranda at the restaurant, I didn’t know where within the Compound she was staying; Jennifer had said she was getting a small studio until the closing took place. Yet when she directed me to Executive Row, I was surprised.

Executive Row referred to the area reserved for those with Executive Service ranks or higher – higher being corporate CEO’s, congressmen or members of parliament, and all the way up to presidents, kings and even dictators. There were only sixteen units in the section, along with twelve apartments. She couldn’t possibly be in one of those, could she?

But sure enough, she directed me to the first of the two apartment buildings. Something in the back of mind said this wasn’t right, but at the time, my mind wasn’t doing the thinking. We took the elevator to the top floor. There were only two apartments on this level and she opened the first door we came to.

I inhaled sharply when we entered. You have to remember, I’m a seasoned real estate professional, so it takes a lot to impress me when I comes to housing. But this place was huge, with a spacious foyer that opened to an expansive great room with a massive picture window looking off the Compound and toward the lights of the city. Being on the top floor, the room also had cathedral ceilings over thirty feet high, and everywhere I looked I saw only the most-expensive furniture and other appointments.

“What the hell, Miranda?” I said. I could say no more.

She walked further into the apartment and kicked off her high heels. “Oh, didn’t I mention that my family is fabulously wealthy, too?”

“Even so this place is reserved for visiting presidents and movie stars.”

She turned to me, and before I knew it, had unclasped her gown and let it slip as gently as a snowflake to the floor. All she wore underneath was a white thong. That was it. Nothing more.

“And as I said earlier, Mr. King, I usually get what I want.”

And at that point in the evening I stopped being a real estate broker and became just a man – a very, very lucky man.

**********

The silk sheets felt fantastic against my skin the next morning, as a thin yellow light began to filter through the slats in the vertical blinds covering the sliding patio door of the bedroom. But then the sheets moaned, and I realized the silky smoothness was that of Miranda’s skin against mine and not the sheets. I became aware of her head on my chest and the black mass of fragrant hair only inches from my face. I ran a hand over her smooth shoulder and felt a return caress from a delicate hand on my side.

As the sleep left my brain, I fought to hold onto every ounce of memory from the night before. This was something I would never want to forget, and seriously doubted I could even if I wanted to. After all, one’s best night of lovemaking – ever – was something to be etched upon every synapse in the brain, if that was even possible. I didn’t really care if it was or not. I was in Heaven and that was all that mattered.

As a gentleman, I won’t go into detail about what happened over the next hour, once Miranda also regained consciousness. Rest assured we were both willing and physically-fit participants, surrendering to our primal needs as naturally as breathing – if breathing meant shouting out to a variety of deities over and over again, for whatever reason I’ve never understood.

Later I joined Miranda on the veranda, where she sat at a small table, wearing only a short white cotton robe.

“You’re dressed,” she said with a pout.

“I’m sorry, but I have a contract to write this morning for Mark and Jennifer. Besides, I want to get over to Belgon’s as soon as possible. I just checked my account and it seems I forgot to pay the restaurant last night.”

She tapped the table. “Sit, have some coffee first. I know you’re not meeting with Mark and Jennifer until noon, so you have lots of time.”

I sat down and began to make my coffee. The cup was already full of steaming black salvation, but I still needed to enhance it with non-sugar sweetener and cream. Miranda frowned as she watched me mix the concoction.

“I like mine black.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said, picking up on her unspoken joke. We both laughed.

“No disappointment at all, Jason. In fact, I know now why they call you
King
.”

“Other than it being my name, you mean?”

“Relax stud, and accept the compliment.”

As I sipped my coffee, I looked past Miranda and into the great room of the apartment. I had sobered up by now, and my other needs had been satiated, at least for the moment. Yet my curiosity was still piqued.

“Seriously, Miranda, how did you score this apartment? Don’t take this wrong, but you’re just an intern.”

“I told you.”

“So why don’t you just stay here instead of moving in with Jennifer and Mark?”

“You know, these places are only temporary, although they have offered me an extension if….”

“Don’t tell me!” I suddenly grew very angry.

“No, that’s not it.” She smiled at me. “My hero, come to defend my honor.”

“It’s just that I wouldn’t put it past some of the guys I know here. So if not that, then what?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What do you have to do?”

Her face suddenly turned serious. She took a deep breath before looking back at me. “I’ve been assigned to the intelligence department with the U.S. Consulate. They seem to think I have certain attributes that could be of value.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, truly confused at this point.

“Let me explain,” she began. “As you know, the Earth is still made up of hundreds of separate nations. Once the aliens came, we all thought the planet would unite as one race – the Human race – and stop being a bunch of bickering opponents divided by nationality, religion and skin color. Well that didn’t happen. Instead, the nations of Earth are even more competitive with each other than ever before, all vying for their piece of the alien economic and power pie.”

“And how does that apply to you staying in this apartment?”

“I’ve been told that if I can dig up any information that could be of value to American intelligence, regarding the activities of other Earth nations, and particularly of alien activity here on Sylox as it pertains to Earth, then I’ll be rewarded with an extension here.”

For the record, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. I had spent six wonderful years in Army special ops and I could spot a set-up when one slept with me the night before – as well as the following morning. There had always been something about Miranda Moore that didn’t sit right. She was too confident, too poised, too unflappable in the face of the shock that
everyone
felt when first arriving on Sylox. Hell, even I’d felt the shock. But not her, not this twenty-six-year-old recent college graduate, who according to her story, had just spent four years getting a degree in something as nebulous as
Galactic Affairs
– no pun intended.

And now this unpaid intern was occupying a lavish apartment reserved for kings – again, no pun intended.

And she had just seduced one of the most well-connected Humans on the planet, if I did say so myself.

I watched as Miranda’s face turned harder than I’d ever seen it. Her eyes burned into me. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Jason,” she said sharply.

“I don’t have to jump to shit; you’re CIA! And if not that, then NSA or some other obscure acronym I’ve probably never heard of before. Does Jennifer know?”

My last question shook her hard demeanor. “No she doesn’t, and I’d really like it to stay that way.”

“That’s not up to me, sweetheart. It all depends on how far you want to push this thing.”

“Look, Jason, all I’m asking for is information, just information. I’m not asking you to go out searching for it. Just keep your eyes and ears open as you go about your day and play your softball games. You know so many people and they all trust you—”

“And I intend to keep it that way! Don’t get me wrong, I’m a patriot – hell I spent six years serving America in the Army. But now I’m on alien world and I have no idea what I could possibly learn that would be of value to you and your handlers.”

“What about the true reason the aliens came to Earth?”

“What true reason?” I asked.

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“What, what?”

“What exactly is the true reason the aliens came to Earth?”

“That’s what we want to know,” she said.

“So you don’t know?”

“No, do you?”

“No!”

“Then don’t you want to know?” she asked.

“Know what?”

“Why they came in the first place!”

“Maybe it’s what they said.”

“And what was that?”

“Shit, woman, we sound like an Abbott and Costello comedy routine! I don’t know why they came.”

“Well, neither do we, and that’s what we want to find out.”

I stood up from the table. “I’m leaving now, before my brain explodes. I want to thank you for a lovely evening; it will certainly rank among my top ten.”

“Top ten!”

“Well, maybe the top three. But the bottom line is I’m not a spy, for you or anyone else. I have a pretty good life going here and I don’t want to do anything to screw it up. You do know they expel spies here, don’t you? What do you think would become of my business, my house and all the other crap I’ve accumulated here if that happened?”

I headed for the door with Miranda right on my tail. “Jason, wait! I’m not asking you to spy.”

“You’re not?” I turned back to her just before opening the door.

“No, just for you to
talk
to me. Let me know what others are saying, both Human and alien. If you can do that, then we can continue to see each other.”

I considered her lovely face for a long moment. She was indeed a world-class beauty – except on the world of Cryus, where she’d be considered hideous, something to scare children with at night. “So if I don’t do this we can’t see each other again? Was I your assignment, your mark?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Listen, sweetheart, I really don’t think you’re cut out for this line of work. Sure, you’ve got an incredible set of assets, but I think your closing technique needs work. In fact, by this time you should have me
begging
to spy for you. Maybe you need to go back to school; is the CIA farm still at Camp Peary? Is that where you got your degree in
Galactic Affairs
?”

I accented
Galactic Affairs
with finger quotes, which was probably what pushed Miranda over the edge, because she reared back and slapped me hard across the face. Now I don’t care how others in the movies may react to that happening to them, but in real life it hurt like hell!

“Just get out!” she yelled. “All I’m trying to do is help my people – our people – learn more about the alien threat.”

“What alien threat?”

“Exactly!”

“Let’s not start that again. I’m out of here. Have a nice life, Bond,
Jane
Bond.”