Mindlink (28 page)

“...and they all sat so still for the whole performance, even
the boys,” Ashley continued. “I’ve never had such a great audience. It’s funny
how exciting
The
Three
Little
Pigs
and
Cinderella
are
if you’ve never heard the stories before.”

“You are enjoying your new job?” Sam asked. Her delight hit him
before she spoke, unfolding shoots of need. Inopportune for what break time they
had remaining.

“Much more than I was expecting. They love it when I switch
voices for the different parts and there’s this one little boy...” She sighed
and her face took on a dreamy glow. “He crawled right up into my lap and touched
my mouth, trying to figure out how I altered my voice. So I taught him and he
was just precious. Trin is his name. He never left my side all morning.”

Natalie wrinkled her nose. “Lucky you. I get to wash clothes
all day and you’re making a whole new planet of fans. Did you see Neeko?” She
made a noise and shook her head. “I mean Kalum.”

“He’s in the older group. But I saw him as we left for lunch
and he smiled at me. Turns out he has teeth after all. Maybe he’ll eventually
come all the way out of his shell. It’s so awesome to have been part of
returning him to where he belongs.” She grinned. “Marc, how is the medical
center?”

The doctor prattled about patients in his typical blustery
fashion, then with excruciating detail, described a medical procedure he’d
performed which had clearly been the highlight of the day.

Sam concentrated on his meal, opting to send Ashley silent
images of the things he planned to do to her at the end of the workday. She
glared at him and he stared back, envisioning in great detail his new favorite
activity—tasting her all over. Holding her as she thrashed and jolted under his
relentless mouth, thumbs tight against her skin.

Her lids flew closed and she swallowed. Perhaps if he plunged
her into a state of mindlessness, she’d forget about leaving. As this state
benefited him as well, the effort wouldn’t be wasted. He hadn’t explored this
exquisite wonderful thing called sex thoroughly enough yet and suspected he
wouldn’t be satisfied for quite some time.

She shot him a couple of extremely provocative images in
retaliation and flounced off to the second shift of the day, humming. She
proceeded to torture him for hours, which he thoroughly deserved, and accepted
with as much grace as possible when being obliged to work with a painful
erection. So caught up in the wicked game, he barely noticed the time passing
until the day abruptly ended. Remorse settled into his gut as he realized he
didn’t remember completing his tasks and likely had performed poorly.

Ashley had him hypnotized. The anticipation of being with her
again was killing his concentration.

Bendal checked in ten minutes before shift-end. “You’re a
natural,” he said, chuckling. “Nothing to it, is there? Round up those bags and
we’ll take them to Shona to use for fertilizer on the crops we grow
hydroponically. You can take them to her by yourself tomorrow once I show you
the way.”

Sam had stacked the bags full of ash like Bendal showed him
against the back wall. As he hefted the first one to his shoulder, the glint of
metal caught his eye. It was an ancient door, half hidden behind the bulky
incinerator. Like the gate at the entrance to Kir Dashamun, the door was chained
and locked.

Bendel noticed Sam’s interest. “Oh, don’t worry. No one uses
that door anymore,” he said.

“What is it no longer used for?”

“That’s the old passage into Kir Barsha. It’s how the first
settlers came here. This used to be the original dump for the Telhada, way back
before King Menet and before they developed their recycling technology.” Bendal
shrugged. “No reason not to keep using this site for trash. We keep the door
chained to prevent unwelcome visitors, but there’s—”

Sam cleared his throat, loudly, drowning out the rest of the
man’s words. If he didn’t know how to unlock the door, Ashley couldn’t see it
through the link. Then he’d have a clear conscience. Bendel might not have been
about to reveal information about a key or another method to use the secret
passage into Kir Barsha, but Sam wasn’t taking any chances.

This path into Kir Barsha—and to the Acquisitions pyramid where
the spacebarge docked—was closed. He planned to keep it that way.

He knew he’d made the right choice when he didn’t feel an iota
of remorse. Kir Barsha was too dangerous for Ashley, no matter how badly she
wanted to return home.

After Bendal released him, he returned to Ashley’s room to find
her lounging in the center of the floor mat, hair splayed in a shiny mass.
Undressed, with legs spread in anticipation, similar to how she’d appeared in
his images at the noon meal. He throbbed once and nearly lost control then and
there.

“What took you so long?” she asked and before she’d finished
speaking, he’d already shed his clothes.

By the Ancestors, she was a vision. Spine tingling with need,
he knelt before her and dove in, determined to indulge in every last fantasy
they’d shared during the interminably long day.

Eventually they attended the third meal—late—ate quickly,
exchanged a few words with Yellie, Natalie and the doctor and left to have more
untamed and astounding sex before falling asleep in each other’s arms. They woke
in the morning to link as fast as possible, then sank into each other languidly,
until the threat of tardiness propelled them from their room.

It was heaven, or as close to it as the lingering tension of
uncertainty would allow. Sam had no illusions he lived on borrowed time and
feared every moment Ashley would suddenly demand he honor his promise to devise
a plan to send her home.

On the third day after falling into this pattern, a man
approached Sam as he and Ashley dashed, hand in hand, from the common area. He
motioned them both into a poorly lit alcove between buildings. Despite the
gloom, the set of his shoulders and stance clearly denoted this man’s former
status as a high-ranking citizen.

“Are you the one from Acquisitions?” he asked. Something about
the hard snap of his tone raised Sam’s hackles. Deliberately, he stepped between
the stranger and Ashley, pulling her behind him and releasing her hand.

Sam crossed his arms. He’d been a high-ranking citizen as well,
and he had no doubt like recognized like. “I am. Who are you?”

“Name’s Ramlah. I’d like to meet with you. Later, after
lights-out.” He scanned the street, both ways, before continuing. “I’m the pilot
you’re looking for.”

Chapter Fifteen

During the walk back to their room, they argued.
Normally by the time they’d passed the clothier, Sam was tense with anticipation
and aching to sink into Ashley once again.

Not today.

His borrowed time had jerked to a halt.

Tight-lipped, Ashley marched through the door and paced the
length of the room, as if caged and unhappy about it. Her presence was too big
and the room too small. Supreme frustration bounced between them, ruffling Sam’s
composure. His muscles ached with strain and his throat had hurt ever since the
word
pilot
lodged in it.

“I do not think we should meet with this man.” Sam crossed his
arms, but it didn’t stop the agitation shooting through his muscles and urging
him to plant a fist through the wall.

Ashley’s eyes blazed. “I heard you. All three times. Now why
don’t you try listening to me?” She resumed pacing, hair flying with each
revolution around the room.

“I
am
listening to you.” A headache
brewed behind his eyes, like he’d not had since the first few hours of linking
with Ashley. “I simply do not agree.”

“I get that you don’t trust him but we can’t just not go. Yes,
he might be lying but he might not be. How can we pass up a chance, however
slim, to get me, Natalie and Marc home? Jennings too. Plus, you said it
yourself. The spaceship is flown by computer, not a pilot. Aren’t you the
slightest bit curious what he’s going to say?”

“I am curious what service this Ramlah could possibly offer but
not at the expense of putting you in harm’s way.” Sam’s tone remained level, but
he had no doubt she saw every shade of the hundreds of emotions careening
through his head—especially the sick terror due to the threat of losing her. He
must verbalize what could never be conveyed mentally. “Ramlah is unfamiliar to
me, but human motivation is not. Not any longer. He will not travel millions of
light-years to return you to Earth for nothing and I am not certain we will like
his price. I see more value in declining his help now instead of after you have
been seduced by promises he cannot fulfill.”

“No. That’s not what this is about.” She crossed the room in
two steps to jab a finger in his face. “You’re scared he’s not lying. You’re
trying to talk me out of meeting with him so I’ll have no other option but to
stay here. That’s not fair. I’m going and you’re staying and we both need to
accept it. That’s how these things are done. Friendly-like.”

“What I feel for you is not friendly,” he returned and the heat
of it burned his throat. He closed a hand around the finger in his face and
pressed her palm flat against his clamoring heart.

She yanked it from his grip and buried her face in her hands.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve never had this kind of
relationship before.” Her voice was muffled, but clear enough.

He unclenched his jaw. “Forgive me. You have been my guide in
all aspects of humanity and I bow to your expertise in this matter. Please,
Ashley. Tell me how I should feel.”

At that, she raised her head and the spark in her eye matched
the irritation rolling across the link. “That’s not what I’m trying to do here
and how dare you. I’m not saying you can’t be sad. I’m not thrilled about it,
either.”

Her face crumpled. Tears gathering in her beautiful eyes washed
away the resentment and wrenched his heart as if she’d reached into his chest to
twist it.

Murmuring half-formed apologies, he drew her into his arms and
held on. She clung to him, pressing her check to his chest. The scent of her
hair invaded his nose and a sting sprang up in his own eyes.

“Sam.” She choked on it and swallowed. “I wish there was
another way, some other option for us to consider. But there’s not. We have to
figure out how to be okay with the fact that you and I are not meant to be.” She
drew back and studied his face. “You’ve got Yellie. A score to settle with the
king. You’re a born leader, and there are a bunch of people out there who need
your skills. Can you focus on that instead of me? You’re drowning me here.”

With a tremulous smile, she tapped a fingertip between his
eyes. His anguish was huge. Too powerful to keep it from barreling through the
link, but he tried to spool it back. Because she asked him to.

“I am capable of focusing on whatever I set my mind to,” he
said. “But I do not yet understand why you will force me to. Why you will not
consider staying.”

She shook her head and frowned. “I need to go home. My mom must
be worried sick and I owe her so much. Starting with an apology.” Her anguish
plucked at him. “This place is dark and depressing. Dangerous. I don’t belong
here.”

“That is false. You belong in my thoughts. In my arms.” He
tightened them around her as if she might experience the truth through the
action. “I scarcely know how to function without you. My journey of
self-discovery has just begun and if you leave, you will disconnect me from my
compass.”

His human compass, guiding him toward the type of human he’d
like to become. Not one who exercised power over others like the Penal System
workers and the king.

All her breath blew out in one frustrated sigh. “That’s kind of
what I meant earlier about you not understanding how this works. This is all new
to you and of course you’re feeling selfish. The sex is eye-popping for me too.
But I need to go home, to prove something to myself. If you care anything about
me, you’d understand that and let me go without all this hoopla.”

Her calm conviction needled his gut. What a paradox. In order
to show his regard, he must release his hold on her, without even the shelter of
his own thoughts. If he wasn’t permitted to stew over how much he disliked her
leaving, how would he ever come to terms with it?

Yes, his motives were entirely selfish, but she was wrong. When
he’d said they’d be disconnected, he hadn’t been talking about sex. Giving up
the physical pleasure of their relationship didn’t hurt as badly as the idea of
living the rest of his life with a void in his head. As if half of his
consciousness—and all of his soul—had been plucked from him and blasted to
Earth.

Regardless of the difficulty, she’d provided the answer and if
he trusted her guidance, he must heed it. It was how these things were done. If
he cared for her, he’d have to find a way to let her go.

“We will meet with Ramlah,” he said, grimly. He still had
choices. Just not the one he would have liked. “I will listen to what he
offers.”

Hope radiated from Ashley’s eyes and sharpened the ache behind
his ribs. An ache which would never cease because if her hope became reality,
she would be gone. Forever. And he would be instrumental in helping her
leave.

* * *

“It’s time,” Ashley said and tried to pretend the crack
in her voice came from not speaking for the last hour. At least not out loud.
The link was never truly quiet and she’d absorbed more than she normally did,
desperate to cram every bit of Sam into the remaining time she had left.

This was it, she could feel it. Ramlah was going to get her
home and all this would be a faint memory. Memories no one else would ever
share.

The idea didn’t have quite the appeal it once did.

Her hand rested on Sam’s bare chest and she palmed the bulge of
muscle. The feel of him was one memory she hoped would remain.

Without a word, Sam shifted away and stood to dress, studiously
not looking at her. He was not happy and missed no opportunity to flay her with
it. How ironic she had once feared he’d be the one to screw her over. She hated
hurting him. Hated it. But she had to believe he’d get over it. Eventually. Once
he understood why she had to go. Of course, she’d have to explain why with more
than the fact that she didn’t belong here.

She dressed quickly. Soon she could kiss this peasant getup
goodbye and slide into a silk Dolce & Gabbana number whenever she felt like
it. Yeah. Clothes. Something to look forward to. She brightened. Except then
she’d have to go shopping and deal with irritating sales clerks who only wanted
to wait on her so they could gossip about it. Well, she wasn’t home yet. One
step at a time, then she’d worry about Rodeo Drive.

Ashley and Sam found the meeting place without difficulty on
the far end of the dark warren of streets. Ramlah waited inside and rose to
greet them.

“You’re the one from Earth,” he said.

“Why does everyone say that like they’re shocked?” Ashley
asked, eyeing the imposing man as Sam led her to the table and helped her into
the hard chair.

Ramlah sat across the splintery wooden table and she got her
first good look at him. He resembled Sam in body type, but his eyes were steely
gray and his hair a darker shade of brown. Unlike Sam, he had that creepy
alienness of the others.

“It is rare for a Mora Tuwa to escape recycling. Without the
help of a citizen, it would be impossible,” Sam explained and focused on Ramlah.
“Tell us the purpose of this meeting. We do not understand the need for
confidentiality.”

Sam’s fingers sought hers and she took them under the crude
table, glad for something to cling to.

Ramlah settled into his seat and leaned forward. “Actually, I
heard you were looking for me. What do you want?”

Ashley exchanged glances with Sam. He silently asked her to let
him talk so she kept her mouth closed. Anytime she didn’t have to think of
something to say was a plus in her book.

“She and two others wish to return to Earth. We have been
informed you may know how to operate the spacebarge and could fly them home. Is
this true?”

“Well now.” Ramlah laced his fingers together and lifted his
head to assess Sam. “I hear the king personally sentenced you to recycling. That
true?”

Uh-oh. Sam’s unease began to rise and she dredged up some
healthy respect for his argument that this meeting wasn’t going to go like she’d
imagined it would go.

“What relevance does that bear?”

“Here’s the thing. I don’t trust a lot of people, and you’re
not on that list yet.” Ramlah paused and she rolled her eyes at the
faux-dramatic effect. He needed some pointers. “So once you get on it, then we
can discuss relevance. I have to know where your loyalties lie.”

She’d had enough of this barn dance. “Can you spell it out for
those of us who have no idea what you’re talking about? We have to get on your
exclusive ‘People I Can Trust’ list, but we don’t know what you can do for
us
yet. Trust goes both ways.”

Sam’s thumb smoothed over a knuckle and a calm-down vibe sailed
through the link, so she bit her tongue against the rest of it. When she got
mad, the words poured out and often weren’t terribly tactful or helpful. With
Sam, he understood the stuff she didn’t say. No one else had that insight.

“That’s fair,” Ramlah said and unlaced his fingers. “I can fly,
but not the spacebarge.”

“No other ship exists,” Sam cut in immediately, and she, in
turn, soothed him. He didn’t trust Ramlah at all and looked for any opportunity
to expose the man as a liar.

Ramlah glanced at Ashley. “The High Priest has another. A
personal ship. Few know this. Piloting the ship was my position, until I escaped
Kir Barsha. I can still fly it and take you back to Earth.”

Her pulse jumped. The revelation was far better than she could
have hoped. Ramlah not only had flight training, he had access to a secret ship.
“Wait a minute. This High Priest is just going to let you borrow it anytime you
want? When you escape Kir Barsha, don’t you become, like, on the outs with the
guys in charge?”

Sam’s thoughts split, making it difficult to follow both him
and the verbal conversation at the same time.

Ramlah nodded. “I am on the outs, as you say. I’m looking for a
way back into the High Priest’s good graces. To assume my former life. It was a
mistake to ever leave Kir Barsha.” He flipped a hand in the direction of the
door. “This place is oppressive. It’s dark all the time. They work you till your
fingers bleed, then expect you to smile at supper. These people think they have
bought their freedom but instead have become slaves to secrecy and
concealment.”

Kir Dashamun was nothing like he described. Yes, it was dark
and closed in—it was underground for crying out loud—but the people were
genuinely happy because they lived a life they’d chosen. Not one person here had
treated her like garbage—which was more than she could say for the citizens in
Kir Barsha. And the children were amazing.

Sam asked, “Do you suppose I have leverage with His Majesty? Is
this why you requested to meet with us?”

“The opposite in fact. I need someone who won’t mind going
against the king.” Ramlah’s eyes darkened. “Someone with a vendetta. Where do
you stand?”

“My primary goal is to return Ashley home.” Sam’s voice rang
with sincerity. “Once she is safe, I intend to destroy the Telhada’s hold on Kir
Barsha by exposing their lies. This will result in the king’s removal from
office.”

Geez. Her heart melted. That commanding authority was so hot on
Sam. Once she got home, she’d have to reevaluate the kind of guys she dated.
Maybe look for someone outside the industry, like a CEO or military type.

The chair back bit into her spine as she shrank down. That was
a big fat lie. There wouldn’t be a new boyfriend when she got home. It was
stupid to pretend she’d leave here with her heart intact. Stupid to pretend she
could be with someone other than Sam.

“Excellent,” Ramlah said. “I knew you were the one I’d been
waiting for. I think we can help each other. What do you know about the fuel
shortage?”

Kryptonite. The images sprang into her head—the ones from that
horrible little room right after they’d fused the octopus to her brain. Long,
green rods that slid into the underside of the ship. Fuel cells.

“It is the reason Ashley is here,” Sam responded. “The king
sought knowledge of alternative rocket propulsion and she assumed the place of
the requested engineer.”