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I left my hotel room and boarded the elevator. Engaged in damage control, I’d scrambled for two days but could finally slow down and take a breather. I’d met with SEW Solutions and extorted their promise to clean up the pollution by a deadline. Company reps were unhappy, but their backs were to the wall, and they had no choice. For a “clean, green energy” company to be smeared as a polluter would be disastrous.
I contacted every single company exec who’d attended the spectacle and assured them the dump would be removed. I secured their agreement to put a kibosh on further communiques involving the toxic waste and to give SEW Solutions the chance to clean it up. While the news had already been shot into the ether, it hadn’t spread yet, so it might be possible to contain it.
Mostly I felt positive because after some initial tension, yesterday’s conversation with Kathryn Jodane had gone much better than I had anticipated. To my tremendous relief and surprise, she’d accepted my reassurances and had approved of the steps I’d taken to fix the problem.
As a bonus, I’d seen neither hide nor hair of Bane in two days. I still couldn’t believe I’d tried to slap him. Poke the bear, why don’t you? All things considered, I’d gotten off easy.
Maybe. That kiss. Jesus. I’d relived the incident over and over, analyzing it from every angle. My response and behavior still shocked me. One touch of his lips, and I’d combusted. While I’d first thought kissing me had been an exercise to put me in my place, he’d been gentle and coaxing rather than forceful and demanding. In retrospect, I realized he hadn’t been immune to the effects, either. His erection had been rock hard when I’d come to my senses and pushed him away.
The elevator opened to the hotel’s subterranean garage, and I scoped out the area before getting off. On Earth, you ventured into a parking structure at your own risk; despite camera surveillance, garages were notorious dens of criminal activity. Sajave had no crime yet. However, old habits die hard, so I kept a tight grip on my overnight bag.
I was on my way to meet MORE reps in Stadt, hopefully to check another crisis off my list. Because the resort would be located closer to the eastern cities, that’s where MORE had set up its field office. From a brief vid-con, I’d ascertained MORE hadn’t yet heard about the pollution. Possibly, they never would, but I couldn’t count on that, so I was trying to stay two steps ahead and do damage control now.
I intended to feel them out on their commitment to Sajave and resell them on its possibilities because most of the planet remained pristine and untouched. Maybe the company could move the resort to the other side of the planet. Once I’d confirmed they were do-or-die on construction, I’d speak to the president about telling MORE the truth. It was the right thing to do, and eventually they’d find out anyway.
SEW Solutions would be okay, and MORE’s interests and the president’s would be protected.
But who would protect the alien sand? Besides the pesky legality posed by the violation of international law, human presence here wasn’t ethical.
After the concessions I’ve made, why should ethics matter now?
Because the sand is a living, sentient being. It has a right to live in peace.
But what if the government pursued the solution suggested by my Geo-Tech contact? The possibility of annihilation haunted me.
Worry had resulted in hallucinatory dreams. For two nights, I’d been swept up into a whirlwind and whisked over the surface of the planet for hundreds of miles. In my dreams, I was the sand. I’d been present as scientific explorers landed. I felt the weight of their ships and footsteps. I’d observed a huge SEW Solutions ship unload pallets of batteries, been burned by toxic chemicals. I saw more ships come, more people arrive. I’d witnessed the ground-breaking of Stadt, the first settlement.
I never realized I had such a vivid imagination or that dreams could be so indelible. The images and feelings lingered long after awakening, leaving me with a growing sense of guilt.
And when I wasn’t ruminating about the alien, I relived the kiss.
I reached my vehicle, opened the hatch, and tossed my overnight bag harder than necessary into the back seat. I got in and secured the hatch. I keyed in coordinates for MORE’s office in Stadt and to a way station midway where I’d spend the night.
The hatch opened, and I jumped, letting out a muffled scream.
Bane folded himself onto the seat.
“The hatch was locked!” I gaped at him. “How did you get in?”
“It opened for me. Are you sure you secured it?”
“Yes.” No...now I wasn’t sure. Maybe the lock hadn’t engaged. “What are you doing here?”
How had he found me? Had he been watching me, tailing me? Probably, I thought grimly.
He tossed a duffle next to my bag. From the way it thunked on the seat, it contained something heavy. “I’m coming with you.”
“No you’re not. Why do you have a duffle bag with you?”
“You have a bag,” he said.
But I’d be gone for almost a week. Stadt was two travel days away. After meeting with MORE, I’d hang around the town for a couple of days and check it out. Maybe go to nearby Miestas. Then two days back. But Bane didn’t know my destination. I could be headed to Geo-Tech or SEW Solutions or out to the dump. “Would you like me to drop you off somewhere?” I asked with fake sweetness.
“Wherever you’re going is fine. Where are we going?”
Dammit. I might be able to lose him in Stadt, but at the very least, I’d be stuck with him for the duration of the ride. I pressed my lips together.
He arched his eyebrows.
I couldn’t see any reason not to tell him—I had a legit reason for going to Stadt. My job required I stay in close contact with corporate donors. However, engrained wariness insisted the less said, the better. “I figured as long as I’m here, I may as well see some of the planet. I thought I’d start with Stadt.”
“So, you’re taking R&R.”
“No.” I scowled. “I’m working.” The last thing I needed was for him to report I’d come here on vacation. I sighed. “I’m meeting with MORE.”
“It would be understandable if you did wish to get away for a while. You haven’t had more than a couple of weekends off in two years.”
I wasn’t sure what was more disconcerting—him encouraging me to take a break or that he’d paid such close attention to my schedule and work habits. “Have you been keeping track?”
“Yes.”
Rattled by his admission, I snapped, “Well, don’t!”
“Can’t help it.” He tapped his temple. “Computer chip. I remember everything.” His eyes blazed for an instant before frosting over.
The kiss. Was he remembering that?
Heat crept up my neck into my face like a hot flash. His taste and touch—and my own response—continued to besiege me. Like a leaky faucet, the steady drip of memories drove me crazy. As long as I stayed busy and focused, I could keep them at bay, but as soon as I had nothing demanding my time, memories assaulted me.
No way could I spend two days holed up in an RTC with him and then have him dog my every step around Stadt. “You can’t come with me. I could be gone a week.”
He said nothing.
“At least, take your own RTC.”
He reached in front of me and powered up the RTC, his forearm brushing my breast. The brief, accidental touch seared through my clothes to my skin. “I go—or you don’t go,” he said.
