Stardust Dreams (2 page)

That scream, along with a
lengthy list of other impressive talents, had propelled her to stardom. This
particular performance—playing a damsel in distress—was one she had done so
many times, it could no longer be called improvisation. She and most of the
other actors and actresses who worked in the Innerworld Indulgence Center's
Fantasy World tended to groan when this reenactment was requested. There was
simply no challenge to playing out a fantasy where they all knew precisely what
the others were going to say and do at any given moment.

But the dwarflike man who
had purchased this fantasy had no way of knowing that, as he ran onto the set
brandishing a sword that had been scaled down to his size.

Cherry stifled a yawn as
the customer valiantly battled the robotic lizard. She had been told he was a
Weebort—a humanoid specimen of small stature and grayish flesh, whose most
peculiar feature was a forked tongue, and whose occupation was that of an
intergalactic trader. His people often acted as middlemen in many deals, both
legitimate and unsavory. Cherry guessed that he must have just closed a big one
since his treat to himself was a holiday here in Innerworld, the Noronian
colony in the center of the Earth.

Reminding herself of how
much he was paying for this fantasy, she let out another hysterical shriek and
struggled to get free of her bonds.

In two weeks the boredom
might be ended. She had always wanted to make it into the big time and now it
looked like she had the chance to make it into the biggest time of all.

Ten years ago, before a
freak accident landed her in Innerworld, Cherry never expected her dream of
becoming a star to come true. Abruptly, she had found herself in a place where
dreams became reality, although the event that led up to her relocation was a
trip into hell.

She and her best friend,
Aster Mackenzie, had been invited on a fishing trip to the Bahamas, but no
sooner had they reached the islands than the chartered yacht was hijacked by
vicious drug smugglers. An elderly friend of Cherry's and a crew member were
killed by one of the criminals before they reached their rendezvous point in
the heart of the area known as the Bermuda Triangle.

Cherry's emotional outburst
after her friend's murder resulted in a machine pistol being turned on her. The
spray of bullets hit her right arm, partially severing it from her body. At the
end of the frightening episode, the ship's captain was also shot, but with
deadly accuracy. To the astonishment of the entire party, Cherry's and the
captain's lives were restored once they reached Innerworld. A robotic right arm
was her souvenir of the nightmare, and an artificial heart was his.

After their bodies were
repaired, all aboard were told an incredible tale about where they were and how
they had gotten there. Under the circumstances, the castaways had no choice but
to accept the explanations given.

The smugglers' rendezvous
point had been within one of the twelve magnetic fields located around the
Earth. Cherry and the others learned that these sites served as doorways to a
technologically advanced civilization in the center of the planet. Innerworld
had been established by Norona ten thousand years ago when volterrin, a rare
but vital energy source, was discovered in abundance in the Earth's core. The
tunnels and doorways were constructed for travel to and from the colony.

Occasionally, as was the case
that fateful day, a small vessel went undetected in the area when a doorway was
opened, and the ship was subsequently sucked into the tunnel.

During their orientation,
the group of new arrivals were also informed that none of the transplanted
Terrans, as the earthlings on the surface were called, were ever permitted to
return to Outerworld.

Cherry noted that the
Weebort had slain the first monster and was heading toward her. On cue, a
second creature lumbered out from behind a rock. "Behind you!" Cherry
yelled, automatically assuming a horrified expression. As the Weebort spun
around to face his new adversary, Cherry had to conceal another yawn of
boredom. One more monster and a giant to slay before she could be rescued.

According to this clients
request, after he saved the maiden, she was to prostrate herself at his feet
and swear to be his devoted slave forever. The thin gold choker around her neck
housed the universal translator that would allow him to hear her words in his
own strange language. Had he requested a more intimate reward, another actress
would have been given the part.

Participating in sexual
fantasies was an option Cherry had always declined. When she first arrived in
Innerworld, she was intrigued by the sexually uninhibited attitudes of its
inhabitants, even though her own strict upbringing prevented her from
comfortably enjoying such freedom to its fullest extent. After living there for
ten years, she didn't blink an eye at what the natives considered acceptable
behavior, but she preferred to limit her intimate encounters with men to those
she knew longer than the time it took to sign over the required number of
credits.

Having fun with them was
something else entirely.

Her friend Aster had given
up hoping that Cherry would find the "man of her dreams" as she had. Cherry
adored men in general and thoroughly enjoyed the way they all seemed to adore
her, but none ever held her interest long enough to establish any kind of
lasting relationship.

Fortunately, her refusal to
share her body with strangers hadn't affected her rocketing career. Employees
of Fantasy World were free to work in the types of performances they were
comfortable with, and those of a sexual nature did not warrant more or less
recompense or prestige than those that were not.

She had always considered
herself rather ordinary-looking, with her brown hair and eyes, and smattering
of freckles on her nose; and she was far too short and thin to be imposing. It
was her talent that had made her a star in demand at the age of thirty-six,
which, by Innerworld standards, was practically a youngster. Her pixie haircut
reinforced that youthful appearance and was imitated by her admirers throughout
the colony.

At the moment, however, few
of her natural characteristics were visible. She was costumed in what she
called early Viking—a heavy blond wig with long, thick bangs and two side
braids, and a neck to floor sackcloth which was gathered at her waist by a
rough rope.

Now she had a chance to
become a star of the universe. Theodophilus, the director of the prestigious
Noronian Performing Company, was making an unprecedented visit to Innerworld in
two weeks.

Cherry had seen the
announcement regarding his plans to audition players from Innerworld for his
next intergalactic traveling show, but everyone had heard the rumor that he had
already decided to hire Cherry. The audition was a mere formality where she was
concerned.

Thoughts of heading off on
an adventure into space, after not being permitted to leave Innerworld all
these years, made this performance seem even more tedious than usual.

The Weebort had now done
away with the third monster and was close to finishing off the eight-foot-tall
ogre. Suddenly another, slightly shorter, giant burst onto the set. This one's
head resembled that of a wild boar. His huge body was completely covered with
coarse brown hair, and only a neck to thigh tunic of body armor shielded his
beastly form.

Cherry had barely adjusted
to the surprise of seeing a fifth enemy when that creature raised his arm and
pointed a metal-encased finger at the Weebort. Letting out one of her best
screams, she alerted him to the new danger. When he turned, the look of genuine
terror on his face warned Cherry that something was wrong.

A split second later, a
beam of blue light shot out of the boar beast's finger, but the Weebort bolted
in time for his opponent to be hit instead. As the giant robot crashed to the
floor in a deafening explosion of circuitry, the beast aimed his deadly finger
at the Weebort's fleeing back.

The force of the blast
catapulted the Weebort forward, slamming him into Cherry at the same moment the
beast took off in the opposite direction. She saw his forked tongue snake in
and out of his mouth as he slid to her feet, and could see he was trying to
tell her something, but the pandemonium around them prevented her from hearing
his words. Before her disbelieving gaze, his skin began to wither and turn
black. Within seconds, the Weebort's body turned to ash, then disappeared
completely.

"Calm down
everyone!" a man ordered from behind Cherry. "That was only a
test."

As she twisted her head
from side to side to determine who the speaker was, he quickly untied her bonds
and continued to try to calm the small group of frantic actors and actresses.

"Management felt you
were all getting a little too complacent with that fantasy and decided to throw
in a surprise. You all did very well. Congratulations. Cherry, I'd like a word
with you privately."

She angled her head at the
man who spoke with such authority. He had been assigned as a bit player right
before this performance began. "Are you with the management?" she
asked without making any move to follow him.

Over his left eye was a
black leather patch, but his other dark brown eye hurriedly scanned the area
before answering, "More or less." He grasped her elbow and tried to
pull her along, but that action made her dig in her heels.

The man would have been
incredibly striking even without the eye patch. A snow white streak began at
each of his temples and ran to the ends of his wavy black hair, which fell just
below his shoulders. A muscular physique was enhanced by a rather piratical
costume of tight, black leather pants and a matching short vest, which revealed
a bare, well-developed chest.

Hooked to his waistband was
a small black box that Cherry thought looked like a weapon, but she was certain
only security personnel were permitted to carry them. He looked like the
devil's own spawn, and there was no way Cherry could have met him before and
forgotten who he was. "Why don't I know you?"

He let out an exasperated
sigh. "Look, we don't have time for an in-depth interview. Now, come with
me."

Cherry's chin came up a
notch as her self-protective instincts came into play. "I don't believe
you're with the management, I don't believe that was a test, and I'm certainly
not going anywhere with you until I get some answers."

Before she could say
another word, his arm wrapped around her small waist and he lifted her off the
ground. As she opened her mouth to protest, he covered it with his free hand. With
a suggestive laugh, he told her coworkers, "We've only been lovers a few
days, and there's still a few rough spots, as you can see. I'm sure you'll
excuse us for a few minutes."

Cherry squirmed in his grip
and tried to bite his hand, but that only caused him to tighten both holds on
her as he carried her off the set. Her public reputation, as a fun-seeking,
free-spirited woman who tended to "love 'em and leave 'em," worked
against her. Her coworkers laughed and wished her captor good luck.

As soon as he found an
unoccupied room, he put her down, but didn't release her. "I apologize for
hauling you off like that, but I couldn't risk arousing suspicions. You have an
incredibly powerful scream, Cherry. If you'll promise not to use it, I'll take
my hand away from your mouth. I mean you no harm."

Cherry glared at him for a
few seconds, then decided to give him a chance to explain what was going on. If
he didn't satisfy her curiosity, she could always scream later. She nodded, and
he slowly removed his hand from her face. When she remained quiet, he let go of
the rest of her as well.

Immediately, she backed
away from him and massaged her jaw. "So much for the Noronian code of
nonviolence." She raised one eyebrow at him. "Perhaps you're not a
Noronian."

Frowning, he said, "I
don't have time to explain. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but my mission is
extremely important. In a few minutes, Frezlo will be out of my tracking range.
What did the Weebort say to you?"

"Frezlo? The Weebort? Something
tells me you're guilty of breaking another Noronian code—the one about honesty.
That wasn't any test back there, was it?"

"No, it wasn't. And
more lives could be lost if I don't catch up with Frezlo. Now—"

"Frezlo's the one that
looked like a wild boar, right?"

"Yes,"
he ground out,
clearly frustrated with her questions.

The realization that she
had been in the midst of a real-life adventure had her bubbling with energy,
and she began pacing around him. "What is he, some kind of an assassin? Are
you a tracker? And was the Weebort—"

"Enough!" he
exclaimed, grasping her shoulders to make her stand still. "Just tell me
what the Weebort said to you before he burned up."

Suddenly Cherry sensed that
the dangerous look about this man wasn't created by a costume. It was inbred. "I
don't know."

He gave her an urgent
shake. "What do you mean, you don't know? You're wearing a
translator."

She pushed him away from
her, more angry than frightened by his macho behavior. He was acting like some
American men she had known; not at all like a Noronian. "I
mean,
I don't know. I couldn't hear what he said. There was too much noise."