Reavers (Book 3) (10 page)

Owen knew the idea of living alone with a young woman would be an outrage back home.  However, he had grown accustomed to his life.  Sneaking out after she had left, making sure they were never seen together in public, and the rest of the secretiveness was acceptable.  He knew that one day, when Hiroko had all she wanted with her career, the two would get married and live happily ever after.  Before any of that could happen Hiroko had to get to today’s meeting.

“Owen?” she called out from the next room.

“Yes?”

“Have you seen my red dress?”

He shuddered.  He hated it when she wore the red dress.  It meant Friderich would be there.

“Are you sure you want to wear that one?” Owen called back.

“Don’t be silly.  Of course I want that one.  I got my last three promotions while wearing it.  It’s good luck!”

Luck had nothing to do with it.  After the Shards had left the Commonwealth, a monumental effort was made to rebuild.  The Commonwealth had been brought to its knees, and it was desperate to get back to its feet.  Hiroko had jumped at the opportunity when she was offered a position on one of the reconstruction committees.  Along with a few dozen others, she worked to coordinate the flow of resources and construction crews. 

Those few dozen others were predominately
male
.  The worst of them all was Friderich.  He was in a senior position, one that gave him undue say in who got promoted.  Friderich picked his choices solely on the possibility of getting into the pants of the chosen.  At one of the many important parties, Hiroko had decided to wear the infamous red dress.  She had the men eating out of her hands.

While Owen hadn’t been invited, he heard every excruciating detail from her for weeks after.  Shortly after that she was promoted.  Friderich had gone out of his way to let her know he’d been mainly responsible.  In Hiroko’s mind, it was due entirely to the dress.  From that point on, Hiroko would don the red dress every time there was a rumor of promotion.  And every time Friderich would be there.

“Found it,” she shouted.

Owen got out of bed and moved to the kitchen.  There wouldn’t be any way he could talk her out of it.  As he prepared their breakfast, his mind wandered to the countless stories Hiroko had told him about her work.  It sickened him to think of how many of those stories revolved around Friderich.  Every single thing that man did or said was worthy of an epic poem.  Owen let out a long sigh as he neatly placed the tableware.

“How do I look?” Hiroko asked from behind him.

Turning, he instantly regretted his earlier decision.  He shouldn’t have tried to stop her.  The tight red dress showed off her figure beautifully.  Every important curve was accentuated.  Her long beautiful legs peeked out through the slit in the flowing bottom edge of the dress.

“Absolutely stunning,” Owen said, genuinely meaning it.

“Perfect!”  Hiroko giggled as she took her seat and started on the meal.  “I’m bound to get that promotion.” 

He couldn’t help but stare at her while she ate.  After three years, only a handful of people in the entire galaxy had any idea of their relationship.  Friends, family and co-workers were completely in the dark about it.  If it weren’t for the fact his old squadmates knew, Owen himself would wonder if he hadn’t made the entire thing up.  Hiroko glanced at her pad.

“It’s this late already?” she asked, jumping to her feet.

Darting around, she hurriedly gathered what she needed for the meeting.  Owen followed her, walking calmly as he grabbed the few vital things she would miss in her frantic movements.  Shoving everything into her bag, Hiroko gave herself a final look over in the mirror by the door.

“Got everything you need?” Owen asked.

“Sure do,” Hiroko said quickly scanning through her bag.  “Now make sure you wait an hour before leaving.  And don’t forget to go out the back.”

“I won’t forget,” Owen said with a forced smile.

Hiroko nodded absentmindedly as she moved toward the door.  As it slid open she paused.

“Oh, by the way,” she quickly added.  “The guys are thinking of getting together after the meeting.  Probably be a late night.  Don’t wait up.”

“Okay.  Have a good day.  I . . .”

The doorway slid shut.  She had left before he had finished.

“ . . . love you,” Owen said to an empty room.

With sagging shoulders, he went about cleaning up.  He had an hour to get everything back in order before he left for his job.  He had a teaching position at the military academy in orbit.  The academy had a strict time schedule, and Owen was constantly late.  His superiors persistently berated him for showing up at random times.  Naturally, he couldn’t say a word in his defense.  He couldn’t very well tell them he was late because he was protecting a secret relationship.

As he washed off the remains of Hiroko’s half eaten breakfast, Owen looked around the room.  While he was renting out a single room dwelling, he was also splitting the rent with Hiroko for this place too.  Teaching young medics wasn’t exactly a highly paid position, and he barely managed to save a handful of credits every month.  If he ever mentioned it, Hiroko would suggest he stay on the academy during the week.  It made sense financially, but he couldn’t believe she would even suggest it.

Caught up in his thoughts, Owen failed to notice as his plate slipped through his soapy hands.  The sound of the plate shattering on the floor demanded his attention.  Glancing at the broken fragments on the floor, his spirits plummeted.  While Hiroko’s plate sat clean and content on the countertop, his lay broken on the floor - a thick layer of filth adhering to its surface. 

As he bent over to pick up the pieces, he wondered what he was doing.  Why was he bothering?  Hiroko wouldn’t notice.  She never cooked or cleaned.  She hardly noticed he was there at all.  In a burst of rage, Owen snatched Hiroko’s plate and tossed it violently against the wall.

Surprisingly, there was no loud crash, no splintered fragments flying through the room.  Glancing at his hand, he realized he hadn’t actually done it.  His hand still firmly gripped the plate.  He couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t break free.  He couldn’t give up on her.  Abruptly, a loud thud grabbed his attention.  Leaning around the corner, Owen found the doorway was open.  Hiroko was standing in the middle; she had just dropped her heavy bag on the floor.

“Forget something?” he called out to her.

She didn’t say anything.  Putting the plate down, Owen dried his hands and left the kitchen.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Again she didn’t stir.  As he neared, he realized she was trembling.  A firm hand pushed her forward and she fell to the ground.  Hiroko huddled on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees as she continued to tremble.  The owner of the firm hand was dressed in a shiny black uniform.  Owen instantly recognized it as the attire of a Weaver.  He tensed for a fight as the form walked into the room.  Shock filled him as he recognized the face of the Weaver.

“Dante?” Owen asked in confusion.

Suddenly, an intense wave of fear gripped him.  He couldn’t help but back away from his friend.  Strangely, Dante seemed to be enjoying the sight.  As a wicked grin filled his face, Dante licked his lips hungrily.  Something was wrong.  This wasn’t the man Owen remembered.  Another strong burst of emotions flooded over him, this time directed at Hiroko.  Glancing at her, he found her dress ripped.

As jealousy consumed him, Owen pictured Hiroko in Friderich’s arms - the two of them laughing at him.  The images flashing through his mind grew darker as his jealousy flared.  He had been a fool.  She had been using him this whole time.  Owen could imagine her bragging to the men of the commission, how she had him wrapped around her finger - a slave to cook, clean, and do whatever she asked while he paid half her rent.

A high-pitched rattling filled Owen’s ears.  On the ground before him was a glinting knife.  He’d get revenge.  A burst of rage consumed him as he picked up the knife.  She’d taken years from him, pretended to love him.  He’d make her pay.

Owen leaned over the whimpering Hiroko.  A tear fell from her eye as she watched him.  Of course she was crying; she was sorry
now
.  Not once in three years had she given him a second thought.  Now that he had the power, she cared.  It was too late though.  She had hurt him too badly to ever forgive her.  She had to be punished. 

He raised the blade slowly.  He couldn’t just end it - she had to suffer.  As he held the blade in the air, he realized there was a reflection in the blade.  Friderich was grinning at him.  The man that had taken Hiroko from him was still taunting him.  Wait.  That’s not right.  The face.  It wasn’t Friderich.  It was someone else.  Someone he knew.  A Weaver.  Dante.  A strong burst of jealousy clouded his mind.  Owen moved the blade closer to Hiroko.  Tears were flooding out of her eyes as she watched him draw close.  She’d pay for everything she’d done to him.  His hand tensed as he readied to strike.

“I love you,” Hiroko’s mouth moved to say silent words.

Owen thrust with all his might.  The blade cleanly sliced through skin.  As blood covered his hand, he smiled.  It was over.  He was free.

A plume of sand swiped against Frank’s sleeping face.  The heat of the grating particles tore him from his dreams.  As his drowsy hands moved to wipe the sand away, he had the overwhelming feeling he was being watched.  Slowly opening his eyes, he found Zia’s face perched mere inches away.  Her legs and back were straight, meeting at a near ninety-degree angle.

“Isn’t that uncomfortable?” he asked, slightly annoyed.

“A little,” she said with a smile.

“How long have you been staring at me like that?”

“A while.”

“You realize the point is to blend into the crowd.  Be inconspicuous.”

“Then why do you sleep?”

“What?”

“Is anyone else sleeping?”

Zia gestured to the market square with a broad sweeping motion.  Dozens of merchants were announcing their wares as civilians walked along on their daily routine.  Not one other person was sleeping in the square.

“Like I’ve told you before,” Frank said as he dusted himself off.  “I wasn’t
sleeping
.”

“I know,” she said with a giggle.  “You were napping, resting your eyes, or deep in thought.  You seemed to be enjoying those
deep thoughts
.  Were they about me?”

Frank shot a frustrated glace at the girl perched over him.  Zia was special.  Normal Weavers could sense and manipulate emotions.  That meant they could tell if you were sad or happy, but they didn’t know
why
.  Sure Weavers could make guesses.  When they were right, it seemed like they were reading your mind.  In the end though, that’s all they were - guesses.  Zia on the other hand, she
knew
.  Frank had in fact been dreaming of her.  There was no point in denying it.  However, despite the fact he’d grown used to her special talents, he wouldn’t just give into them either.

“Shouldn’t you be keeping a look out for trouble?” he asked, dodging the subject.

“Why?  You are so much more interesting.  Plus, nothing ever happens here.  It’s very soothing.”

Soothing wasn’t the word Frank would have used.  Boring, dull, plain, or a waste of time maybe, but never soothing.  Serving as a military garrison simply meant he watched over the citizens and waited for something to happen.  Only problem was that on a rim world like Hellacus, nothing ever happened.  Even when something did happen, it usually amounted to a purse-snatcher.

“You should be careful what you wish for,” Zia said as she watched the citizens walk by.

“How’s that?”

“If you long for action, you might just get more than you can handle.”

Finally standing, Frank took Zia’s hand.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a smile.  “I’m not about to let you out of my sight.  Losing you once is once too many.”

Her face brightened as she planted a quick kiss on his dusty cheek.  Frank couldn’t help but laugh as she coughed and wiped the sand off.

“You two love birds causing a scene?” a female voice asked.

Zia instantly blushed as Frank turned his head slightly.  Their shift was finally over, and Diana had come to replace them.  Morio was standing a few paces behind her, sweeping an intent gaze over the merchants.

“You’re one to talk,” Frank muttered.  “There’s nothing to report, so stop that.”

Morio paused his scanning and shrugged with a slight smirk.  Morio never said a word.  Frank had met him years ago on the military academy they had both been assigned to.  Even then Morio never spoke.  It created endless friction between him and the instructors, but they couldn’t really complain.  Despite his odd silence, it was obvious he had amazing talents in the field of stealth and infiltration.

Morio had instantly taken a liking to Frank, and the two had been inseparable through most of their time on the academy.  The instructors had suggested that he should use their friendship to manipulate Morio into speaking, but that wasn’t his style.  It took a while to get used to, but in the end, his way was very efficient.  With a single raised eyebrow Morio could express the equivalent of an entire conversation.  Why ask him to change just so it would be easier on an instructor?

“I trust you, Frank,” Morio said through subtle motions without words.  “It’s these merchants I don’t trust farther than I can throw.”

“I don’t think you need to worry,” Diana said to Morio.  “The citizens are harmless.”

Diana had been dating Morio for a couple of years now and had learned to understand most of his wordless speech.  There were still several gestures and mannerisms that Frank had to translate, but she understood enough to carry on a conversation without assistance.  Only Zia was clueless to what his mannerisms meant.  She didn’t need to know; her talents penetrated his silence.

“Speaking of harmless,” Diana said with a smirk as she eyed Frank, “you look well rested.  Sleeping on the job
again
?”

“I wasn’t . . .” he said indignantly.

“He was just deep in thought,” Zia said, interrupting.

“Not sleeping nights?” Diana prodded.

A wide grin filled Morio’s face as he tilted his head to the right and winked.  Zia instantly blushed as Diana socked him on the shoulder.

“Don’t be rude!” she scolded.  “If Zia had kept him up all night, the whole garrison would know about it.  It’d be written all over Frank’s face.”

“As would every merchant on the planet,” he said with a grin.  “If you shout any louder, maybe they’ll hear you back on the core worlds.”

Diana stomped her foot as she turned to face Frank directly.

“I liked you better when you were single,” she said.

“Is that a confession of unrequited love?” he asked with a smirk.

“In your dreams!  How Zia can put up with you is beyond me.”

“Why do they fight like this?” Zia asked Morio.

“They are too similar,” he said without words.  “It’s like staring into a mirror and seeing everything you don’t like reflected back.”

“So Diana takes naps too?” Zia asked with a wide smile.

Diana quickly grabbed Morio and held him still before he could respond.

“That’s a yes,” Frank said as he broke into laughter.

“I’d wipe that smile off your face if I were you,” Diana said, releasing Morio.

“Why’s that?” Zia asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“The base commander wants to see you.”  A mocking smile grew on Diana’s face.  “Again.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Frank asked defensively.

“That remains to be seen,” a deep voice said, intruding on the conversation.

The four spun around to face the voice.  A man stood solemnly with a stony expression on his scarred face.  He was wearing a brand new black sand shroud.  There wasn’t a single grain of sand on him.  He was obviously not a local.  From his posture and stance it was obvious he had received a great deal of combat training.  If Frank had to guess, he’d put good money on this stony man being able to take on all four of the troopers without breaking a sweat.

“Are you Frank Bosch?” the stony man asked.

“Who wants to know?” Diana asked, taking a step toward the man.

“You must be Diana Hoffman,” the man said, without any reaction.

“I wonder if he knows who the rest of us are,” Morio said without words.

The man studied Morio.  It was impossible to tell if he could understand Morio’s movements or not.  Frank suddenly became aware they were drawing attention.  At least half of the merchants were staring openly at the man.

“Will you four come with me?”  The man gestured toward the spaceport.

There was harshness in his voice that told them it was a command, not a request.  Frank tensed.  This could turn very ugly.  A gentle hand rested itself on his arm.  Turning, he found Zia looking at him warmly.  There was no harm in following the man.

“Lead the way,” Frank said with a shrug.

The ship wasn’t what Frank had expected.  It stood out so badly he had noticed it three blocks from the spaceport.  Nestled in the center of the worn trade ships was a glistening ship of white.  It was a brand new military vessel without a single scratch on it.  He was no expert on ships, but it was obvious this one was fast, no doubt equipped with a top of the line jump drive.  One of the perks only the military got to enjoy. 

A second factor made it stand out - it was rounded.  It didn’t matter if a ship belonged to a corporation or the Commonwealth; they all looked pretty much the same.  It was due to the Wall of course.  Frank had slept through that class, but he had gathered that long, square ships were more efficient or something.  So every ship tended to be long and rectangular.  This one, on the other hand, had sleekness to it.  The slightly pointy top edge of the ship swept back into six bulges that gave the base a distorted hexagon appearance.

The man leading the four troopers didn’t seem to find anything out of the ordinary as he entered the unique craft.  Despite the strange outer shell, the interior was obviously of military design.  The gleaming white Frank detested covered every perfect surface.  A shudder ran down his spine as the hatch sealed.  He had always felt the gleaming white was too restrictive.  A gentle shove from Zia reminded him to keep up with the man.

As they had been following, Frank had noticed the man had a limp.  He tried to hide it, but he favored his left leg.  Abruptly stopping, the limping man gestured to an opening doorway.  Without hesitation, Zia moved in and took a seat.  Once all four had entered the room, the doorway closed.  Frank noticed there was no control panel to open it from the inside of the room.

“What’s going on?” Morio asked through a quick series of discreet gestures.

“No clue,” Diana responded in kind, not saying a word.

“Neat trick,” Frank said in a normal voice.

“Moron!”  Diana gestured angrily.  “They are probably listening to us.”

“Of course they are,” Frank said, as if it were obvious.  “We are trapped here.  Why would they hold us captive but respect our privacy?”

“You don’t seem too worried about any of this,” Morio said without words.

“There is no need to be worried,” Zia said with a sweet smile.

“How can you two be so calm?” Diana asked, still not speaking.

Before Zia could speak, the Wall entered the room.  The surprise at its sudden appearance forced the troopers to jump out of their seats.  As the Wall slowly consumed the room, the troopers started to calm down.  After it passed, they all returned to their seats.

“You’re a Weaver?” Diana asked in shock, not bothering to keep up the silent conversation.

“Didn’t you know?” Frank asked.

“Of course I didn’t!”  she shouted, clearly peeved.  “I don’t spend my time doing background checks on your partners.”

“Partner,” Zia said.  “Singular.  He doesn’t need anyone else.”  She clung to him tightly.

Morio turned on Zia as his eyes started to grow in shock.  Diana raised an eyebrow, not understanding his sudden surprise.

“What’s wrong with you?” she prodded.

“Frank,” Morio’s movements were slow and methodical.  “What ever happened to that little girl?”

“Morio!” Diana instantly reprimanded.  “You know we are supposed to keep our mouths shut about that.  This isn’t the time.”

“It’s okay,” Zia said, starting to blush slightly.  “There won’t be any trouble.”

“This is a private matter between the
three
of us,” Diana said condescendingly.

“She didn’t leave with the rest of her kind, did she?” Morio asked Frank, normalcy returning to his gestures.

“What are you talking about . . .” Diana paused as she turned on Zia.

Zia simply smiled and waved hello as if they were being introduced for the first time.

“
Frank
!” Diana screamed like a mother who had just found a prized vase shattered by her son.

“I told you she wouldn’t believe me,” Frank said to Zia, ignoring Diana.

“How . . . why . . . when,” Diana sputtered as she locked her gaze on Zia.

“So they can change their age too?” Morio asked as he put a reassuring hand on Diana’s shoulder.

As Frank nodded, Diana shook her head in disbelief.

“You are telling me
she
is an alien?”  Diana gestured to Zia as she demanded an answer from Frank.

“She’s not some stranger, Diana,” Frank said mockingly.  “Morio seems to get it.”

Diana turned on Morio expectantly.  He stiffened under her hard gaze.

“Well, we know they can change their appearance,” Morio explained slowly.  “That’s how they infiltrated the Commonwealth two years ago.”

“But they left!” Diana was shouting openly in frustration.  “We found their base and sent them packing.  They
wanted
to leave.  Whatever they were, they wanted no part of us.”

“That’s true.”  Morio tried to calm her down as he continued.  “The real Weavers were scared of us . . .”