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Accessing Geo-Tech from the sixth-floor sky bridge, I hacked the entry scanner and let myself into the building, parking myself on a padded bench behind a fake palm. According to the calendar on Tempest’s handheld, she had a meeting with Western Site Director Breeze O’Day and Dr. Gayle Chambers, the head of the astrobiology department.
I’d let her think the captain had detained me, and she’d been able to ditch me, to give her the illusion of freedom. Continuous stalking would alter her behavior, and I needed her to do what she intended to do. Besides, I didn’t have to be with her every second to know where she went; the tracker I’d installed on her device drew me a map. I wished I’d had the foresight to have copies of future incoming and outgoing messages forwarded to me. Next time.
She entered the building with her temporary access code, and I could tell something was amiss. Her stride lacked its usual bounce, and the mask of confidence had eroded to a distracted, almost worried expression. She had plenty to be concerned about, but she usually hid it much better. The meeting shouldn’t trouble her. She had brass cojones; she could handle Breeze O’Day.
Jodane was completely different. Like encountering a Tyranian, few survived unscathed after tangling with the president. Some didn’t survive at all.
I knew Tempest had gone to the dunes, the SEW Solutions solar and wind farms, and Città City Park. What could have happened? A dust storm maybe? They could whip up without warning.
I stepped out from behind the plant.
“You!” She stopped dead, her expression changing from preoccupation to dismay.
“You seem upset. What’s wrong?”
“You’re here. Isn’t that enough?” She curled her lip.
“Such sweet talk might make me think you like me.”
“In your dreams.”
“I do dream about you, Tempest. Would you like to know what I dream about?” I let my gaze travel the length of her body, partly to annoy her, but also because I enjoyed looking at her. And I did dream about her. The hot, sexual, inappropriate nighttime fantasies made me burn. I traced the origin of my obsession to those dreams. When my life had been colorless and flat, she had haunted me in vivid detail.
But not all dreams were pleasant. The ones in which I killed her were all too realistic.
“You’re disgusting!”
“It’s disgusting to appreciate an attractive woman?” Brown hair. Brown eyes. Oval face. A mouth neither too plump nor too thin. Her unassuming but agreeable features had grown on me. I’d begun to notice her chestnut hair consisted of many gleaming shades—toffee, caramel, even strands of honey-blonde. Likewise, her brown-sugar eyes darkened and lightened with her moods.
“With everything else going on in my life, the last thing I desire is for the president’s henchman to come on to me! Keep your thoughts, your comments—and your hands—to yourself!” She brushed past me and stomped toward O’Day’s office.
I matched my stride to hers, mulling over her opinion. Of course she’d view me as Jodane’s enforcer. That’s what I was. I’d stalked her and threatened her, and might be ordered to kill her. She would be smart to keep her distance. She would have been wiser to never have gotten involved with Jodane. But she had, so I couldn’t let her run from me. I needed to keep her close.
“Perhaps I wasn’t coming on to you as much as stating fact,” I said.
“Keep your facts to yourself.”
We stopped at the director’s office, and I reached for the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She glared at me.
“I’m attending the meeting with you.”
“No, you’re n—how did you know I have a meeting?”
A small slip, rectified with misdirection. “Why else would you be here? You wouldn’t just barge in and demand to see the director, would you?”
“I might if it would get me somewhere.” She jutted her chin out and marched into the office.
A cyborg executive assistant manned the reception desk. A placard identified her as Stephanie Milner; it may or may not have been her real name. She wasn’t there to take calls and greet visitors. C-Force had installed her outside the director’s office as the first line of defense. Stephanie Milner could kill you and never lose her friendly smile.
“Good afternoon,” Tempest said and introduced herself. “I have an appointment with Ms. O’Day.”
“Of course! She’s expecting you.” Stephanie scrutinized me. “And you are?”
“Benjamin Bane. We’re together.”
“No, we’re not,” Tempest said.
“I’ll tell Breeze you’re here.” Stephanie tapped on a console. “You may go in.”
I started to follow, but Stephanie sprang to her feet. “Not you.”
Tempest shot me a smug grin.
Breeze’s private office opened, and the head of C-Force, an armored Quint Stroud, stepped out. “Leave now.”
I squared my shoulders. “And if I don’t?”
He motioned, and two other cyborgs stepped out. The director was well guarded. “Then these two gentlemen will assist you.”
I was outnumbered. I could hold my own against either of them but not both. And Stephanie looked like she wanted a piece of me, too.
I needed to find out what got discussed. Attending the meeting would have been the simplest way, but I had other options. I whispered in Tempest’s ear. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
.
* * * *
Tempest
Don’t go!
Bane pivoted and marched out, and a crazy urge beckoned me to call him back. That he’d been expelled had been a gift served on a silver platter, but the cyborg blocking the entrance to Breeze’s office was the most intimidating, scary person I’d ever met—and I worked for Kathryn Jodane. The man didn’t look human. Bane’s eyes were ice cold, but they were eyes. I couldn’t begin to guess what the hell had happened to this dude. In his sockets were two argent metallic orbs. While Bane, the receptionist, and the male cyborgs had a slight metallic cast to their skin, this guy appeared to be wearing a flexible metal casing, except he wasn’t. That was his skin.
More robot than man, he stood there oozing menace. This guy probably lives to crack heads. He would enjoy beating the crap out of somebody.
Bane would do what the job called for, but I’d sensed he didn’t derive satisfaction from it. Until now, I’d never fathomed someone could be more lethal than Bane.
My gaze bounced between the four cyborgs. Stephanie’s guarded expression morphed into blandness, and she slipped into her seat. The scary cyborg stepped aside and motioned for me to enter the office. All three male cyborgs followed me in.
The director, an attractive blue-eyed blonde about my age, came forward. “Ms. Waters, I’m surprised you came to Sajave, but it’s good we have a chance to talk in person.” She offered a hand but no smile.
“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” I said.
“This is Dr. Gayle Chambers, the head of our astrobiology department...” Ms. O’Day introduced me to a somber brunette with an expression as tight as her bun.
It didn’t bode well when the friendliest person I’d met was the one I’d hoped to avoid.
“And this is C-Force Commander Quint Stroud, my bodyguard Tack Grayson, and Gayle’s bodyguard Axel Vander.” Her announcement sounded more like a warning than an introduction. Don’t try anything. We’re well guarded.
The security seemed overkill but rather than feign normalcy, I addressed it head-on. “Is this degree of security necessary?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?” Ms. O’Day said.
“What does that mean?”
“You received my communique, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t waste any time rushing here.”
“Serious matters require immediate attention. I’m here on behalf of President Jodane.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why we have security. Have a seat.” She gestured to the conference table. “We’re expecting one more person.”
“I don’t understand what’s keeping Kaylee,” Dr. Chambers said. “It’s not like her to be late.
“I’m here!” A purple-haired woman in a lab coat burst in. “Sorry, sorry.” She hunched her shoulders apologetically and glanced at her boss. “I got tied up unexpectedly.”
Then she approached me with a warm smile and shook my hand. “You must be Tempest Waters. I’m Kaylee Hartmann, Dr. Chambers’ assistant. Welcome! Is this your first visit to Sajave?”
“Yes, it is,” I said, grateful for a friendly face. The animosity in the room was palpable. None of the others liked me.
Kaylee took her seat, and I was directed to the empty chair next to Quint Stroud. To my surprise, he had transformed. No longer encased in armor, his skin more resembled the other cyborgs’. His eyes were still that creepy silver. He tilted his head in my direction, and I’d almost swear he could see to the marrow of my bones. I thought only Superman had X-ray vision.
I donned my best you-don’t-scare-me expression. “If you’re going to stare at me like that, I’ll expect a medical report.”
The merest smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “With or without a full blood workup?”
“May as well make it comprehensive.”
“Let’s get this meeting started,” Ms. O’Day cut in. “You received my report about the sand?”
“Yes, I did. You arrived at some unexpected and unfortunate conclusions. The government contracted with your company to mitigate the intrusion. Your, uh, hypothesis does the opposite. It complicates the situation.”
“It’s not a hypothesis,” Dr. Chambers said. “It’s a scientific fact. The sand is alive, and it’s an intelligent entity.”
“How do you know? I flew over the dunes before coming here. It looks like sand!”
“It hits all the markers of life—order, homeostasis, reaction to environmental stimuli, respiration, reproduction, use of energy, and movement. We discovered it has an organized, albeit unusual, cellular structure; it shivers and clumps together in the cold; it spreads out in the heat. It reproduces, making more little grains. The alien moves under its own power. Individual grains can crawl, and, working together, it can whip into a dust devil and cover large distances quickly. Its plantlike metabolism converts sunlight into energy for food.”
I glanced at Kaylee. The purple-haired assistant nodded and smiled like a grinning Cheshire cat.
I’d fallen down the rabbit hole into a parallel Alice in Wonderland universe. Ethical me accepted the alien’s existence and right to life. Presidential-corporate-liaison me floundered for another explanation. I focused on Dr. Chambers again. “What you’ve described sounds like a plant to me.”
Plants reproduced. They reacted to environmental stimuli, dropping leaves in the cold to conserve energy then budding out when the weather warmed. They moved, growing toward light. Maybe the sand was nothing more than snow-white lichen.
“Except that it’s intelligent.” Chambers leaned forward. “It enjoys music.”
“So what if it does?” I clung to my plant theory. “Plants react to music by growing faster.”
“It reacts dramatically. The alien particularly likes Chopin, but it dances a pretty good jig to country-western music.”
That gave me pause, but I refused to be deterred. “You ever see a cockatiel rock out?” I shrugged. “Exactly how does the sand dance?”
“It forms wisps that sway. Small dust devils form and bounce around.”
Were they kidding me? “That’s your proof? Dust devils?” I hooted. “President Jodane is going to need more proof of life than dust devils blowing around.” These scientists were idiots, and I was ridiculously relieved. Breeze’s little report wouldn’t impact colonization or MORE’s resort in the least. My worries about the existence of intelligent alien life has been a Tempest in a teapot. I smothered a chuckle.
Scratch! I could cross one crisis off my list.
Breeze’s gaze hardened. “The alien told us SEW Solutions was dumping hazardous waste.”
My jaw dropped. “What? Told you how?”
“Actually, it told me,” Chambers said. “And then it showed me the site, led me right to it.”
“It spoke to you? How did it lead you?”
She and Breeze exchanged a cryptic glance before Chambers replied, “It cleared a path for Axel and me to follow.”
I eyed the two women running this dog-and-pony show. I could fly a hovercraft through the gaps in their story. There was something they weren’t...telling me. Telling! Both women had used the same wording—the sand had told them about the dump, but when I asked if the alien had spoken, Chambers hadn’t answered the question. So, how did the alien communicate?
“The alien is being poisoned by the pollution,” Breeze said. “The dump site has to be removed.”
“I agree.”
She blinked. “You do?”
“Of course!” Let her think my primary concern was the sand.
Nothing could be allowed to jeopardize MORE’s development on Sajave. If SEW Solutions eliminated the hazardous waste before anyone saw it, that would solve my problems. MORE could build the resort, SEW Solutions could continue to provide solar and wind power to the planet, Jodane would continue to reap financial rewards, and I wouldn’t be blamed for a debacle. A win-win for everyone.
Except the sand.
“You should see the dump,” Breeze said.
“I definitely want to see it.” All the better to line my ducks up before confronting SEW Solutions. I’d shoot some vid as evidence.
The director glanced at the others before addressing me. “We’re going to the site tomorrow morning. Perhaps you would like to follow us over there.”
I nodded. “I’ll do that.”
