Mindlink (3 page)

Nothing happened.

Nothing
should
have happened—the
Telhada did not have a brain implant and therefore had no fear of connecting via
the eye interface. No fear of having their thoughts and secrets exposed to
another.
One
allowed his muscles to unclench and air
to flow through his lungs.

“Your Majesty, you honor us with your presence. Please allow me
to show you the preparations for the arrival and processing,”
One
said, pleased his voice remained even, and
gestured with his palm for the king to lead.

The king’s heavy crown dominated his appearance and banded
fabric draped from the circlet to cover his shoulders, serving as a visual
signifier of his exalted status. Stamped in the center of the crown at the
highest point was the round emblem of
Sohlar
—the
most revered of the Ancestors for his hand in guiding the stars and planets
through the heavens.

They walked toward the empty bay, Security in lockstep behind.
One
began his presentation, gesturing to the
various areas as he explained their function to the king.

Queen Tanith advanced to the front of the group, robes swirling
behind her, and clutched the king’s arm. Should
One
acknowledge her or include her in the conversation? From her serene stance and
blank expression, it appeared she merely wished to provide silent support to the
king, as opposed to participating. But then the king flicked her hand away with
a scowl, and she stumbled, knocking the metal headdress anchored in her long,
dark hair askew.

Automatically,
One
stepped forward
to steady her, but caught himself and jerked his outstretched palm to his side.
He continued speaking without hesitation but watched as the queen retreated into
the midst of her security, face taut and etched with pain.

Yet more divisions between the classes—freely initiating
contact with another’s skin and freely demonstrating emotion without worry of
repercussion.

The High Priest noted the exchange as well, but his expression
revealed nothing as his gaze lingered on the queen for a moment and then
returned to the king. He’d not contributed to the inspection thus far and the
mysterious presence of this highest-ranking citizen had yet to be explained.

“I find great satisfaction in your results,
ZXQ
-
One
. The High Chairman
speaks of you often.” The king smiled and gestured toward the bay. “After the
Mora Tuwa are processed, you will be promoted to High Chairman of Research. I
need a strong leader capable of producing results over this division.”

One
frowned to counter the smile
fighting to bloom. No greater honor existed for someone of his low birth, and as
an unexpected bonus, the king had personally promoted him in the presence of his
team.

Head bowed,
One
replied, “Of
course, Your Majesty. I understand your wishes. I am pleased to accept. May I
ask where the current High Chairman of Research will be relocated to?”

“He is being transferred to the Security Division.” The king’s
expression turned grim. “The High Chairman there dissatisfied me and has been
recycled.”

The ultimate solution to issues. Unfortunate. The former High
Chairman of Security’s reputation for not producing results led
One
to believe he deserved the sentence. Citizens in
positions of leadership did not have the option to fail. The new High Chairman
would steer the Division down the correct path and recycled organic material
from the former High Chairman would benefit citizens.

Robes flowing, the king turned and inspected the harvesting
equipment on display. “I am curious about the Mora Tuwa Earth chose to fill the
list.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. We are interested as well. The Mora Tuwas’
skill with engineering has progressed significantly. We will find the knowledge
to solve the fuel crisis among the subjects.”

One
had created the list’s
specifications personally, though misrepresenting the purpose of the list to
Earth’s leaders had been a requirement mandated by the king. Sacrifice for the
greater good should be foremost in the value system of any species, even the
lowly Mora Tuwa.

“Do not forget our additional objective,” the king said. “The
ability to clone Mora Tuwa will save precious resources. When I am recognized
historically as the greatest king to ever rule Alhedis, your efforts on behalf
of the Telhada will be mentioned as well. The Ancestors will be pleased.”

One’s
handheld beeped twice.

“I’m humbled by your praise, Your Majesty. If you’ll excuse me,
we have duties to perform.”
One
bowed to the queen,
then the king. They turned to exit, the High Priest close behind, and
One
followed.

The royal barge hovered near the entrance to the Acquisitions
building, the driver poised at the helm. The open-topped construction allowed
citizens to view their rulers traveling throughout the city. A footman helped
the queen into the barge and to her seat on one of the luxurious cushions, then
returned for the king. The High Priest and Security rode in the surrounding
barges.

The barges glided away and disappeared around a corner.
One
pivoted to stride back inside the Acquisitions
pyramid, anticipating both the spacebarge and his promotion.

The results of
One’s
invitation to
Earth would not left to chance.

Chapter Two

Ashley escaped Natalie’s probing gaze with a discreet
trek to the back wall. That was the last time she’d try to help the
underdog.

Thankfully, instead of continuing to try and place Ashley,
Natalie focused on the front of the room. Rhonda was blathering about protocols
and how the heads of all their countries counted on them to foster diplomatic
relations between the Telhada and Earth.

Rhonda wrapped up her spiel.
Finally
. “And now we’ll adjourn to the pressroom.”

The pressroom. Ashley perked up. She’d memorized mind-numbing
paragraph after mind-numbing paragraph about her “expertise” for this single
event.

The list-ees trailed after Rhonda, the pecking order clear. Dr.
Glasses first, followed by the other scientists and the Russian, who motioned to
Ashley to fall in behind him. Evidently they considered PhDs part of the elite.
The others followed.

The pressroom lay off the main hall and the addition of one
more person would have made the crush ridiculous. Flashes popped as the ten of
them filed into the overheated box.

Rhonda announced the last-minute replacement of Dr. Khan and
motioned Ashley to the podium. She stepped up and smiled amidst the sudden
explosion of flashes and conversation. Few people knew about the switch ahead of
time—deliberately. A search of her name would reveal carefully placed
information but Senator Blanchard hadn’t wanted to allow time for an intrepid
reporter to do a more thorough search.

“Dr. Jonsson!” someone in the crowd shouted. “Why do you want
to meet aliens?”

Her mind went blank. Not one memorized fact would address that
question and
I
don’t
wouldn’t work, either.

Was she an actress or not, for crying out loud?

“This invitation is about a brilliant and unprecedented
opportunity between our species and another to unite in a learning opportunity.”
Ashley firmed her mouth. Dr. Glasses glared at her, clearly affronted she’d
borrowed his speech.

When another reporter called out to one of the other
scientists, she swallowed in relief and added
able
to
leap
tall
questions
standing
in
the
way
of
fixing
career
problems
to her resume.

“Dr. Malinga,” the reporter yelled again. “A spaceship from
another planet with a mysterious invitation appears one day, and we consent to
send off our brightest thinkers to who knows what. Why would you agree? How can
you be sure of the aliens’ true intentions?”

Dr. Malinga spoke into the microphone. “That question has been
rehashed far too many times in the six months since First Contact. I trust the
leaders who vetted the invitation, and I am delighted to participate in this
extraordinary opportunity. That’s all.”

The rest of the questions and answers were lame sound bites
with no substance.

After an eternity, Rhonda closed the press conference and
herded the group to the exit door. “The ship is ready for you,” she said.

“Buck Rogers time,” Dr. Glasses said, with glee.

Who was Buck Rogers? Instead of asking, Ashley kept her mouth
shut as Rhonda led them out of the building, through a corridor of tight-lipped
police officers holding back a throng of shouting people at the edge of the
walkway and into the space shuttle hanger.

Ashley glanced around the empty hanger. Where was the ship?

She zeroed in on a smear hovering above the floor, like a giant
fingerprint across a frame of film. Oh. The ship wasn’t using some magic
invisibility technology—it was just the same colors as the background. Like one
of those lizards that turned itself the exact shade as whatever it clung to. A
chameleon.

If the ship was a chameleon, what would the aliens be like?
Lizards too? There had to be a reason Hollywood makeup artists always portrayed
aliens as giant reptiles.

Ashley turned to the person in line behind her, who happened to
be Natalie. “How do you board a ship you can’t see?”

Natalie whispered back, “I don’t know. I’m kind of new to all
this, too.”

“Everyone ready?” Rhonda chirped. “Good luck! We’ll see you in
six weeks.” With a regal nod at the ship, she backed away.

Dr. Malinga led the way, thankfully, and as soon as she neared
the ship, a ramp descended from the underside.

As Ashley tromped up the gangplank-style walkway into the
underbelly of the ship, she paused and poked a finger at the ship. Awestruck,
she did it again and ran the pad of her finger across the cool, slick surface.
It gave a little, like reptile skin.

She followed Natalie into the spaceship and nearly collided
with her. The other woman stood at the edge of a stark, bare room with rounded
walls, but no chairs, consoles, pilots—nothing.

“Where are we supposed to go?” Natalie whispered.

A disembodied voice floated out and surrounded them. “Proceed
to the center of the spacebarge and await the launch sequence.” The voice
repeated the instructions in several other languages until they all did it. The
gangplank slowly rose, then retracted, and the hatch whirred closed with an
ominous
thud
.

Simultaneously, panels around the interior walls flipped open
and revealed ten people-sized tubes. The clear tubes sank into the floor and the
voice instructed them to stand in the newly created opening.

The group glanced at Dr. Malinga, who strolled over to take a
slot, her back against the wall.
Thwonk
. The tube
snapped back into place, sealing in the doctor. She instantly relaxed, eyes
closed, as if in a deep sleep. No prelude, no questions, and most importantly,
no alien list-master with a death-ray gun poised to zap anyone who wasn’t
supposed to be on board.

One by one, the scientists and Natalie followed Dr. Malinga.
Ashley took the last slot, next to Natalie. Ashley stuck a hand in the pocket of
her suit jacket and closed it around her lipstick case, the good-luck charm she
never left home without. It had been a gift from her mom and had belonged to
Marilyn Monroe once upon a time. Ashley owed her long-suffering mom—who had
sacrificed most of her adult life to further Ashley’s career—a complete
turnaround. This trip was both an apology
and
a
symbol.

With luck, superior acting skills and a senator in her back
pocket, nothing could go wrong.

Take
that
,
bad
karma
. Once the ship left Earth, she’d be one step
closer to forgiveness for her constant screwups. All she asked was for a chance
to break out of the downward spiral, to prove she could be hardworking and
deliberate about her career.

She’d already scoped out a perfect spot on the mantle for the
Oscar.

* * *

Ashley strained to clear the cotton from her head. The
tube snapped into the floor and cool air slapped her face. With every passing
second, the brain haze melted a little more.

“Move to the center,” the spaceship’s voice instructed.

On wobbly legs, she joined the others in a bleary-eyed zombie
promenade. Dr. Malinga, who’d been the first to go under, seemed the most
awake.

The gangplank whirred to the ground and Voice urged them to
exit the ship. Wow. They must have landed on the alien planet but Ashley hadn’t
registered flying or moving or anything. Some brilliant technology, there. How
far from Earth was the alien planet anyway? The information hadn’t said. It
would be nice to know if they went through some type of space wormhole or a
stargate to get here, just for curiosity’s sake.

She followed Sid, careful to stay in formation in case the
aliens expected them to be lined up according to importance. Pinpricks stabbed
her trembling legs, like when she sat Indian-style too long studying a script,
and her palms were fell-asleep-in-the-tanning-bed dry. Flakes of skin peeled off
her arm with a fingernail flick. Ick.

The group emerged inside a building of some sort, like a giant
warehouse with slanted walls. Except it was clean and bare of everything but the
humans, yet none of their movements echoed. Large, metal doors loomed overhead,
shut tight, but were wide enough to have accommodated the space ship.

“It’s a pyramid,” Natalie whispered from behind her. “Look at
the walls, how they come to a point in the center. And there’s one of those
elevators that follows the incline of the wall.”

Ashley craned her neck to see the elevator. Glass-enclosed
rooms on the second floor split into two halves by the elevator mechanism. The
whole place had a stark, modern feel, like a set for a futuristic movie, but
incomplete, as if the prop guys hadn’t filled it yet.

“Once I stayed at the Luxor in Vegas. It was kind of like
this,” Natalie said under her breath, then squeaked. Ashley glanced at her
widened eyes then followed Natalie’s line of sight.

Aliens.

They marched into the huge room, single file, wearing drab gray
uniforms. At first glance, all twenty or so appeared identical, with the same
blunt haircuts, comparable height and blank expressions. But then she noticed
the subtle differences in their features and the color of their hair and skin
tones. Definitely not lizards.

“This is the welcoming party?” Freddy snorted as he moved
closer to the front of the line. “Expected a parade at least. Confetti.
Something.”

Dr. Glasses gasped at the group of silent aliens and whispered
to Dr. Malinga, “Remarkable. I didn’t anticipate humanoids—it’s eerie. I’d be
curious to study their gene sequencing.”

She strained to hear Dr. Malinga’s response and keep an eye on
the freakishly similar aliens at the same time, but missed the woman’s breathy
comment. None of the aliens moved a muscle and her pulse jumped. Why were they
all just standing there?

For the first time in history, two species faced each other on
common ground, poised to discover universal truths. What did they think of her
and humans as a whole? Were the ten of them what they expected or something
completely different? In the back of her mind, she’d half expected this trip to
end up like in
Contact
where Jodi Foster returned
with eighteen minutes of recorded static to show for her trouble.

At least the aliens made an appearance here.

One of the aliens stepped from the line. “Do you speak
English?”

His accent was bizarre, like nothing she’d ever heard. A cross
between an Aborigine and Shakespeare in the Park with a hint of chimpanzee. The
other aliens didn’t twitch and stood like they’d been shot full of Prozac.

When no one answered, the alien switched to something that
sounded like Spanish and then an Asian tongue. Dr. Malinga cleared her throat.
“Most of us speak English. Shall I perform the introductions?”

“I wish you to say which specification you represent,” the
alien corrected in Borg-flat cadence. “Your designation is not relevant.”

Specification
? Ashley glanced at
the others and they looked confused too. Dr. Malinga took a half step back, her
British sensibilities evidently slighted. Ashley almost gagged. Hugh had been
like that too, always worried about propriety. He hadn’t liked it when the cover
of
Star
featured grainy shots of them at what should
have been private events, particularly if Ashley wasn’t sober...

Pulling a device from his pocket, the alien marched up to Dr.
Malinga, the closest of the humans, and stated, “What is your
specification?”

“I am Dr. Sunanda Malinga of the United Kingdom,” she said,
with exaggerated pronunciation, and patted her chest. “I’m honored to be one of
Earth’s chosen repre—”

“No. Your specification. Which specification on the list are
you?” He tapped twice on the device in his hand, comparable in size to a cell
phone but thicker, with solid white casing. “Expert in astronautics? Expert in
genetics?”

“Oh. I am a Nobel Laureate in nuclear physics,” she
amended.

Two of the aliens peeled off the line and surrounded her. They
hustled her off by the arms across the room, where panels flipped noiselessly,
revealing a long hallway. The aliens disappeared through the opening, Dr.
Malinga in tow. The panels snapped back into place and Ashley blinked. They’d
sealed so seamlessly, she couldn’t point to where the blank wall had opened.

“Your specification?” the alien asked Dr. Glasses.

When he replied, “Genetics,” two more aliens led him out the
same way.

Ashley’s skin got pricklier. No one had unloaded their
suitcases. What about some type of formal reception? A cocktail wouldn’t be out
of line, preferably a double, and as a good follow-up, directions to the
bathroom. Lipstick, if nothing else. They’d come who knew how far and the aliens
were acting incredibly rude if anyone wanted her opinion. She was a world-class
scientist, selected from thousands of potential candidates, and deserved some
respect.

She opened her mouth to ask for someone in charge when Mr.
Alien came to Natalie and pierced her with creepy eyes.

“Specification.”

“Contest winner,” Natalie squeaked.

The alien tapped on his device. “Respecify.”

“I’m, uh, not on the list.”

The alien’s head jerked up. Several of them gathered into a
tight circle, their conversation hushed as they discussed whatever had gotten
under the talker’s skin. Two aliens marched over to Natalie and hauled her away.
Her eyes rounded with terror, but really, what would they do to her just because
she wasn’t on the list? A scolding? She’d have to eat dinner in her room instead
of at the table with the other guests?

“Astronautics,” Ashley said with confidence when he got to her.
Now she would get to see the rest of Disneyland. This area was so sterile and
impersonal. Hopefully all aliens weren’t as boring as these few and their whole
planet wasn’t so colorless.