LOGAN (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 5) (21 page)

Chapter 11

Simone felt like pulling her hair out in frustration. Didn't these Earth people ever sleep? She had purposely requested a change to the night shift in hopes that there would be less activity in the commune... which translated to fewer decisions for her to make.

Not that there was any real decision to make here. This was an emergency and emergencies required one to follow the proper procedures regardless of loyalties. She just wanted to stall for a while in hopes that her co-worker, Orleander, would return early from her break and then
she
could handle the situation. To protect herself, she paused the recorder so that the delay would not be evident.

Nadia would do flips down the halls of Parliament if she heard that Parisia had ventured into the commune and gotten caught. Advisor Iris, on the other hand, would be extremely grateful to anyone who helped cover up a potential security leak about the Imperial Prefect. Simone couldn't imagine why Parisia would have taken such a risk but she was certain the reason must be of world-shattering proportions.

Five minutes passed, yet the four women in the transfer room had not magically vanished from her monitor, nor had Orleander returned. Simone knew she had to act.

She was about to call Advisor Iris when a solution occurred. She didn't have to tell Nadia anything. All she had to do was get her to come to Observation and
just happen
to witness the situation for herself.

Simone dashed to the door and scanned the corridor to make sure Orleander was nowhere in sight then placed a call to Nadia.

A very groggy Fulton answered on the sixth ring.

"This is an emergency," Simone stated. "I need to speak with Nadia immediately."

"May I tell her who is calling?"

"No, you may not. But rest assured, she will appreciate being awakened after I speak to her."

"All right," Fulton said nervously. Nearly two minutes went by before he was back on the line. "I'm sorry. Nadia is not here."

"Not there? That's ridiculous. If you are saying that merely to avoid leaving your warm bed..."

"I swear," Fulton whined, hearing the implied threat. "I've looked everywhere, even outside. She's not here."

Simone would have questioned him further but the sound of footsteps warned her that time was up. "If she comes in, tell her to go to Observation. Speak to no one but her about this call, or she will be very displeased with you." Without waiting for his reply, she disconnected from him and called Advisor Iris. The woman answered at the same moment Orleander walked in. Simone gave her a frantic signal to join her at the monitor as she spoke to Iris.

"We have another emergency in the commune, madam."

"Oh my. I'll be there within the hour—"

"I don't believe this should wait," Simone interrupted. "If you'll turn on your monitor, I'll transmit from here."

"One moment then."

While Simone waited for the Advisor to go to her monitor, she backed up the recording to the point when the four women entered the transfer room. Fortunately, she was fast enough with the controls to prevent Orleander from suspecting anything unusual.

"Go ahead," Iris said with a yawn. All remnants of fatigue fled from her voice, however, when the young woman on the screen issued her short statement. "She lies," Iris said, more to herself than Simone. "It will take me but a moment to refute her claim." She took a calming breath to organize her thoughts. "As of right now, Observation is under security quarantine. No one is to enter or leave without my express permission and neither of you is to communicate with anyone but me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Simone said quickly.

"Yes ma'am," Orleander repeated. "Should we put the women to sleep?"

Iris studied the frozen images on her monitor. Their stances were defensive but courage was evident in each face. They could be dangerous. "Yes, but leave them in the transfer room for now. Advisor Iris out."

With the touch of one key she disconnected from Simone. By pressing a few more, she brought up the view of the Observation Room from the concealed scanner to confirm that Simone and Orleander were the only ones there and that they were following her instructions. She thanked the suns that she had doubled the tech staff for she truly did not trust Simone.

Once she was certain the situation was temporarily put on hold, she placed a call to Parisia's private line.

"Hello?"

It sounded like Parisia but Iris had to be certain. "Security precautions please." In the blink of an eye, she had a visual of Parisia on her monitor then the palm of the Prefect's hand was flattened on the screen. Iris's computer verified that it was indeed the Imperial Prefect but she and Parisia had devised one other fail-safe. She asked, "What happened on the twelfth day of the sixth month twenty-four years ago?"

Parisia moved her hand away from the screen. That question had made her smile when they'd chosen it. Now, knowing that it signified a critical security breach, it filled her with anxiety. "My daughter, Brianne, cut her first tooth."

Iris gave an audible sigh of relief. "I apologize for disturbing you but we have a problem." She relayed as much as she knew so far and what actions had been taken. "Obviously, they have not captured you but somehow they know your name. What makes it doubly confusing is that the woman referred to you as a representative rather than the Imperial Prefect."

"There's something else that's not quite right," Parisia said, rubbing her eyes. "From what we know of these people, doesn't it seem rather odd that they would choose
women
, rather than men, to confront us?"

Iris nodded slowly. She had been too concerned about Parisia to fully analyze the situation. "It does seem unlikely that they would send women to negotiate with captors. Unless they knew something about the structure of our society."

"It can only mean one thing, Iris. They
have
captured one of our people and convinced that person to reveal certain information about us. But who? And how?"

"I will have the four women taken to the sanatorium and isolated. If you'll meet me there, we can question them together."

* * *

Nadia glared at the silly girls who had been assigned to guard her. She had tried being friendly, demanding and threatening. She had offered every bribe she could think of to entice them to help her escape. Obviously, the scarred man had chosen them to guard her knowing they were immovable.

At least she had been allowed to dress properly and, though her hands and feet were still bound, she was somewhat more comfortable. She laid on the cot and turned toward the side of the tent. There had to be a way to save herself. Escape appeared unlikely for the moment but she was certain that eventually an opportunity would avail itself. If she couldn't get the controller back, she could always go through the transfer room. If her timing was right, Simone would be the tech on duty and she could be convinced to keep a secret... for the right reward.

She recalled Simone telling her she would be working nights now and it was already nearing dawn. The best thing to do was pretend to be docile long enough for her guards to give her a little freedom, then by nightfall she could make her break.

But what if the men who captured her figured out how to use the controller in the meantime? What if they escaped from the commune and told someone about her presence? It wouldn't be long before her absence was connected with the escape in spite of her using Parisia's name.

She laughed at the route her thoughts had taken. Earth men didn't have the intelligence to analyze the controller or manage a successful escape. There was no real reason to fret. Just in case, however, she started to create a credible excuse for why she had ventured into the commune.

A short while later, she was satisfied that she was prepared for every possibility and allowed herself to go to sleep.

* * *

Logan flopped onto his stomach and punched his pillow one more time. Years in the service had accustomed him to grabbing an hour of sleep whenever and wherever he could. He was an ace at shutting out distractions and ignoring uncomfortable surroundings to get the most out of a catnap.

So why was he having so much trouble taking advantage of the rest time he'd been granted and badly needed?

He knew the answer, he just didn't like admitting it, even to himself. His quixotic instincts had him wanting to protect Tarla regardless of the fact that she didn't want his protection and probably didn't need it.

As long as he had kept her classified as an unattainable fantasy, thoughts of her never kept him from sleeping. But now, after having held her, touched her,
tasted
her and discovered exactly how she looked when she was filled with wanting him, the reality and the fantasy were all mixed together.

He couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like if he and Tarla had met before—His thought stopped there. Before what? Before he was born maybe? There had never been a time in this life when he would have belonged in the same world as Tarla.

What if she didn't come back? What if the people on the other side of the wall decided to hold onto her and the other women and leave Parisia here? He shifted to his side to consider that possibility. He doubted that would happen, but if it did, he felt certain either Geoffrey would figure out how to use the device that got Parisia through the wall or Parisia herself would eventually break down and help them escape.

One way or the other, Logan was betting their present circumstances would soon be changing. He just wished he had a crystal ball to see whether that change would be for better or for worse. The only thing he knew for certain was that even life in paradise would be torture if Tarla was within reach, yet untouchable. And as long as she believed he was a low-life, murdering, drug-smuggling traitor, she would remain untouchable.

Of course, he could always tell her the truth, but since there was no one here to back up his story, why waste the breath? It would be his word against everyone else's—just like it had been at his court martial.

* * *

Tarla, Robin, Lee and Alicia awoke on the carpeted floor of a very large unfurnished room. There were no windows, only a closed door in the wall across from them. Tarla rose and walked toward it but was stopped halfway there by an invisible barrier.

"Well," she said turning back to the others, "I don't know if we've made progress or not. We've gone from a walled-in farm to a cell."

Robin stood up and stretched. "I wonder how long we were out. I feel like I had a really good night's sleep."

"That's how Logan and Wilkes described their experiences too," Tarla reminded her. "But in actuality, they were only gone a few hours. At least we didn't wake up still in the tack room. Hopefully this means they're going to talk to us."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the door opened and two women dressed in long white robes entered. Lee and Alicia were on their feet in an instant.

One of their visitors appeared to be middle-aged and was so pale and slender, it seemed as though a light breeze would blow her away. Tarla thought she looked friendly but troubled. The other was shorter, plumper and much older. Her worried frown appeared to be a fixed expression.

"Good day," the younger woman said with a near-smile. "We understand that you wish to speak with us."

Tarla took a step forward and repeated her earlier statement. "I am Captain Tarla Yan of the United States of America. We have captured one of your people, Parisia, Representative of Acameir. We wish to open negotiations regarding her release."

"That is most intriguing, particularly since I am Parisia of Acameir, and my title is not representative but Imperial Prefect of Heart. This is my Domestic Affairs Advisor, Iris of Mergany."

Tarla had been mentally prepared for the unexpected but she'd hoped to get past the introductions before feeling bewildered. "The woman we are holding hostage claims that
she
is Parisia and that Nadia of Hinac is Imperial Prefect."

"Nadia?" the older woman asked skeptically. "What does this woman look like?"

Tarla shot a glance at Robin. Someone was lying but who? "She is tall, full-figured, has very long black hair and a rather large nose."

The two women exchanged whispers then the Advisor said to Tarla, "Your description matches that of the woman we know as Nadia but it is difficult for us to believe you have captured her. Tell us how this happened."