Mindlink (32 page)

“No.” His shoulder still ached occasionally, but it was far
less painful than knowing he’d failed at bringing all of the refugees to safety.
“We lost one.”

“But only one.” Hal thumped the table. “Five of you arrived in
one piece. That’s almost a miracle.”

Failure could not be remade into success from any perspective,
but he could choose not to allow it to affect the future. “A miracle which may
be repeated. I cannot stay here, cowering until the hour Ramlah’s threat
manifests. Nor can I ignore the evil residing inside the perimeter of Kir
Barsha. But I do not assume I can defeat the Telhada alone. Envision what we
might accomplish together. Set aside your fear. I will show you the way.”

Ashley flooded the link with bright, clear sunshine and it
wrapped around his heart with a painful, wonderful squeeze. Precious little time
remained with her by his side, within reach, within link distance. How would he
breathe without her?

“Yes. I will go,” Hal said and edged forward, his frame
bristling with energy. “I’d like a shot at Ramlah. He betrayed us all.”

Everyone looked to Leesi, the unofficial head of the group. She
nodded slowly. “It’s a risk. But denial isn’t a feasible option, either. Gather
everyone. Find others who will commit to this course.”

Vol stood and crossed his arms defensively. “I am not in
agreement with this. It is a fool’s errand. But I will not prevent anyone else
from going.”

Sam stiffened when Cass stood as well, flashing a grim smile.
“I can’t pretend the idea of linking thrills me, but Kir Dashamun isn’t safe and
I have to act. We have too many residents to protect to do otherwise.”

He relaxed slightly. These people weren’t satisfied to wait for
danger, putting off conflict until forced into action—they simply lacked the
leadership required to mount an offensive. That, he could provide, in exchange
for their help. “You must also know I committed to returning these people from
Earth to their home, which will require us to enter the Acquisitions pyramid
unobserved. If you will assist me with this task, once they are safely away from
Alhedis, we may turn our attention to Ramlah and the king.”

“A distraction?” Hal mused. “So you’re suggesting we keep
Security busy while you do your thing. Then what?”

“The spacebarge launch will then divert attention to the
Acquisitions pyramid, giving your group an opportunity to devise an escape, and
allow us to rejoin forces.” The link crowded with Ashley’s protest but he
mentally waved her off. They had few choices.

With a chortle, Hal grinned. “Done. It might not work, but I’m
game to try anything to foil the king. Let’s go round up some more volunteers.
When do we leave?”

Within an hour, forty-eight people committed to traveling with
Sam to Kir Barsha. Far more than he’d hoped and far less than might ensure
success. Regardless, these residents would not regret their faith. The Telhada
had trained him well to lead and he would do so.

Ashley fell into the role of reassuring those who had
difficulty with linking as if she’d been tested and assigned the position of
motivator. Her natural inclination to touch and soothe extended to the others
and Sam watched the people respond favorably, while his own heart took no
comfort in the fact her actions placed them that much closer to their final
separation.

“Remember,” she said. “The handhelds can’t connect as long as
you’re linked. If something happens to your partner, you’re in trouble. Stay
together and link with someone else if you can. Use the link to communicate.
Don’t be scared of it.”

Her whole demeanor changed when she addressed the crowd. It
commanded attention because she was so mesmerizing. So riveting.

As compelling as the far side of the abyss.

He may have convinced the group to take the initial step out of
Kir Dashamun, but they followed Ashley into the wilderness, willingly.

The journey took half a day. Slinking Khota Marong joined them
for a majority of the trek, encouraging everyone to step lively, but the cats
remained the same distance from the last resident’s heels. They left the woods
and hastened across the perimeter line undetected, which raised everyone’s
spirits.

Everyone agreed with the plan—dividing forces.

Hal led the residents toward the center of Kir Barsha with the
intent of drawing the king’s eye away from Sam as he secreted the Earth-bound
humans in the direction of Acquisitions. Once Sam released the spacebarge to the
sky, he would search for Ramlah while the diversion was still in effect.

Keeping to the shadows, Sam, Ashley and Natalie stole through
the city to the Acquisitions pyramid. Security orbs sent them into hiding four
times, but without the burden of exhaustion and additional hindrances, the
distance didn’t take long to traverse. Before Sam could prepare for the
eventuality, the Acquisitions pyramid towered overhead.

Voices rang out ahead. Citizens. Sam ducked into the crevice
between buildings. “We must wait here until third-meal, which will commence
shortly. Then we may move about more easily.”

Ashley slumped to the ground. “How are we going to get into the
pyramid?” she asked, though she’d most likely seen his uncertainty about the
answer already. “Can you switch our IDs again?”

He shook his head. “I do not have access to a handheld. Be
silent for now.”

When neither citizens nor Security barges had made sounds for
at least five minutes, he exited cautiously then once he determined workers had
vacated the area motioned for Ashley and Natalie to follow.

The delay had been fortuitous, giving him plenty of opportunity
to formulate an idea for managing the ID requirements intrinsic to Kir Barsha.
Whether it resulted from having access to Ashley’s mind and the wonders of her
intelligence or simply freeing his own mind from the bondage of the Telhada’s
lies, he didn’t know. But one thing he did know—the entire system hinged on
citizens following rules.

He wasn’t a citizen any longer.

A nonorganic refuse bin resided inside an alcove on the left
side of the Acquisitions pyramid. Inside it, he found what he sought—the metal
byproduct of a depleted spacebarge fuel cell. Hefting the length of stiff metal
in one hand, he tilted his head toward the entrance. “We must go.”

Natalie eyed the rod. “What’re you going to do with that? Bash
someone in the head?”

“No.” He glanced at the length, reconsidering. He would retain
it, just in case. “Perhaps. If I have no other choice.”

With strength born of purpose, he strode to the sliding panels
between them and the interior, wedged the metal in the miniscule crack where the
two doors met, and pried them open.

Ashley stared at the space between the doors and then at him.
“Wow. That was so simple. Why didn’t you do that the first time?”

With a smile, Sam gestured toward the exit. “I am not the same
person I was then.”

The success bolstered his confidence. No fulcrum of any
proportion would ever activate the spacebarge, but something equally as atypical
would come to him.

He had promised Ashley.

Natalie and Ashley ducked through the opening and Sam followed.
Another stroke of fortune in an unsettling series of luck. His sense of
foreboding mingled with Ashley’s and blurred his resolve. She believed in him
but worried about how he’d find Ramlah and whether the other residents would
survive.

She could likely see he did not fear death and in fact, might
prefer it. Because if he lived, he’d be alone. Only she knew his every nuance,
the newly discovered aspects of his human nature. The process of discovery might
continue, but without her, it lacked significance. Almost everything lacked
significance, except for the burning desire decimate the Telhada.

It was the only thing he had.

She’d chosen to return home and it was the right decision. He
hated it. Hated having no logical argument in favor of staying. Hated that his
former status as a citizen put her in danger. Hated that she’d been right about
the eventuality of “bad stuff” happening, yet wrong about his ability to hold
onto the sun to help him cope.

He could not, however, hate the list which had brought her
here. Without that, he’d be the High Chairman of Research by now and oblivious
to the real purpose of his job.

He wouldn’t be Sam.

As he strode into the receiving bay, Ashley and Natalie at his
heels, all progress vanished.

The uniformed citizen seated at the desk glanced up, his
fingers freezing in the air as he halted the programmatic routine they’d
interrupted. Sam sucked in a breath and stepped in front of Natalie and Ashley.
Her instant agitation split his attention as it curled into a hard knot at the
base of his head, but he swept it back and braced.

The man stood, exited the interface to the harvesting protocol
and picked up his handheld, which he dropped in his pocket. His expression
barely wavered as he evaluated the three intruders, then tilted his head to
train his eyes on the ground. “
ZXQ
. I was not
expecting you.”

“
Two
.” Sam nodded, scrambling to
assess the best way to handle this sudden obstacle. He wasn’t the same person,
without a doubt, and he would use it to his advantage. “My apologies. I assume
it is
One
now.”

“Yes.”

As he faced his former second-in-command, a dozen observations
funneled into Sam’s mind and instinctively, he sorted them. The Acquisitions
pyramid was quiet and empty, with exception of this citizen. Behind him, the
spacebarge rested in the docking clamps, unconcealed and inactive in the bay
darkened for the night. The sealing panel dividing the two areas had been
lowered and the sight tightened his throat. Given the failure of the list, his
former team must be preparing the spacebarge for what Sam assumed would be the
final launch to acquire more humans from Earth.

They’d almost missed it.

“
One
, then.” The title rolled from
his mouth easily and Sam had no regrets he’d never answer to the designation
again. He’d invested considerable effort to groom this man into a suitable
successor. Now, they were adversaries.

The vacant High Chairman of Research position had likely been
filled by the director of another area. Sam was grateful because it left him
facing a known entity.

The worker now called
One
stood
between them and the spacebarge. His hand flexed, ever so slightly. As if about
to reach for his handheld.

Sam sprang toward him, shedding all pretense of formality, and
gripped
One’s
arm. “Look at me,” he commanded. “Do
not fear. I am already linked.”

His former subordinate glanced up, shock crinkling the corners
of his mouth. “Linked? With whom?”

“Ashley. This human.” Sam gestured with his free hand. “It is
not as you assume. In fact, little is truthfully as you believe. I wish to
return her to Earth, along with the other. I must have access to the
spacebarge.”

One
eyed the women and stepped
back, easing away from Sam’s hold on his arm. Obvious discomfort stiffened his
frame. “They were scheduled for recycling. As were you. I have difficulty
comprehending your presence here.”

“Likewise. The building should be empty, yet it is not. I must
ask you to leave now and say nothing.”

“I cannot.”
One’s
eyes shifted back
and forth, never quite resting on Sam’s face. His conditioning was well
entrenched and his fear of linking too ingrained.

“Why are you not at third-meal?” Sam questioned, empathy
softening his tone. He’d only broken free of the Telhada’s clutches after
exposure to a considerable number of lies, half-truths, and Ashley’s different
worldview. The same would hold true for any citizen.

His task to educate the masses loomed, transforming into a gray
cloud of doubt. Perhaps the obstacles were insurmountable and his path was not
the one he assumed. His resolve faltered.

A bright sun shone through the link. Ashley. She believed in
him.

The man blinked. “I received special permission to forgo the
normal schedule.”

A puzzling disclosure but
One’s
willingness to answer questions might dissipate at any moment. “What were you
told about my sentence?” Sam asked.

“You displeased the king and did not produce results,”
One
snapped and reached into his pocket. His handheld
emerged. “You must accept your sentence with dignity.”

Natalie gasped and the link exploded with Ashley’s panic. She
squeezed out an image of Sam clobbering
One
with the
length of metal. Frowning, he shook his head slightly. He would not hurt his
former subordinate under any circumstances.

Sam had one chance to keep his former second-in-command from
keying the alarm and his problematic compassion might now be their only hope.
“Do you believe the sentence was just?”

One’s
head jerked but his fingers
stayed off the touch screen. “What?”

“The sentence. What is your opinion about my sentence?”
Security would arrive in moments if he couldn’t keep
One’s
attention off the handheld.

One
glanced at Ashley before he
answered. “My opinion is irrelevant.”

Sam started to step toward
One
but
pulled back at the last second. Commonality, not intimidation, would be his
recourse here. “I value your opinion, just as I valued you as a worker. You know
how important my position was to me, how loyal I was to the Telhada. Do you
believe I deserve to die for a single mistake?”

One’s
expression remained blank,
but one brow lowered slightly in indecision. The breadth of nonverbal
information available when viewing more than just shadows was nothing short of
astonishing. The Telhada’s effort to keep citizen’s eyes to the ground was as
cunning as it was practical.