Your Planet or Mine? (11 page)

C
AVIN WATCHED
J
ANA
go until he lost sight of her vehicle. Why did he let her out of his sight? What was he thinking?

Let her go. The REEF wants you, not her
. He couldn’t use his personal woes as an excuse to keep Jana prisoner. But he wasn’t going to lead her into danger, either. And danger followed him now, claws sunk deep like a deadly parasite. With the presence of the REEF on Earth, the chances of the Coalition learning his whereabouts had become a true concern.

Before, the chances of anyone discovering he’d come to Earth were little to none. Cavin had told no one, written down nothing. He knew how to “disappear” because for years he’d studied how. He had access to classified information few others did, allowing him to do what he wanted, to go where he wanted, and when he wanted. But now a REEF was here, tracking him, bringing the risk of the Coalition discovering his whereabouts. And if they learned he of all people was here, sharing Coalition secrets with Earth, it would bring more than an acquisition force to this backward little world; it would bring the full and deadly force of the Galactic Army.

He paced restlessly in front of the open garage in soft boot inserts that had to serve as footwear in the absence of his armored boots.
You have to let her know who you really are
. He couldn’t keep Jana in the dark about him any longer. He should have told her all of it, right away, only at the time, he’d thought it would cause her more worry. His only hope was that the assassin would be as stealthy and efficient as always: discretion was programmed into the killers. REEFs reported back to their benefactors only when a target was eliminated. And Cavin was going to make damn sure this was one assassin who wouldn’t complete its mission.

Cavin fisted a hand at his side. Damn the REEF. Damn the bastards who’d hired the assassin. And damn their timing. Gods, why now, when he could least afford complications? Who was behind the decision to terminate him? Who had he frightened so desperately? Neppal? Fair Cirrus? Prime Minister Rissallen? Or, was it the queen? Keira was known for erratic behavior. Perhaps she’d signed his death order.

What did it matter now? He’d come here to save Jana, to save her world. If he had to outrun a REEF assassin while accomplishing that, so be it. He’d outrun worse.

One more thing you didn’t plan on, Far Star
. Cavin fought the haunting worry of everything he’d planned on spinning out of control. Despite the ever-changing, unpredictable dynamics of this mission, he had to keep command, keep it together. For Jana’s sake if nothing else. For his Squee.

She’d so affected him, he could barely think. Her body, warm, soft, pressed close to his. Her scent, the way she tasted, his mind played the sensations over and over to distraction. He set his jaw, hardened his stomach muscles, clenched his fists, as if something so superficially physical could blot out this overpowering desire to make love to her, to taste, touch, feel every inch of her body. But he must never lose his ability to protect her, something he was in danger of doing if they focused too much on each other and not on what was going on around them.

Yet, at times they were as much adversaries as they were potential lovers. Oh, he had no doubt of her feelings for him; he saw it every time he looked in her eyes. But with her family under fire, she viewed him as one more obstacle. He had to change that perception if he was to gain her trust. And to gain her trust, he must learn to adapt to her world, or everything he’d risked his life for, and now her life, would be threatened.

To understand the Earthlings, you must become one of them.

But how? Darkly, Cavin rubbed his knuckles across his chin and thought about what Jana had told him.
They’ll be afraid of you.
Jana’s comment had caught him off guard.
They don’t believe there’s life anywhere else but here
.

He peered into the stillness of the overcast morning, taking in every detail of the strange and alien landscape. Similar-looking dwellings lined the street, each with a rectangular patch of grass serving as a separation from the road. Landscaping varied from house to house but not widely. Similarity seemed to be celebrated, or perhaps regulated. Here and there along the street, other vehicles backed out of garages and drove off in the same direction as Jana. A mass migration was underway.

A man motored past and waved.
Jana warned you against interaction with the local inhabitants
. But wouldn’t it seem odder if he ignored the overture than if he responded in kind?
My apologies, Jana
, he thought and waved back.

Another car drove down the street, its occupant acknowledging him with a wave. It seemed he was accepted as part of the community simply because he was standing in the open garage. Such a quaint little planet. It hardened his resolve to save it, because when the Coalition was done with it, nothing would be the same.

Cavin turned to go inside. He had much to do.

“Good morning!” A smiling woman crossed the street with two small children and a canine that was far larger than Sadie.

Once more, Cavin weighed acknowledging the overture for communication against the consequences of directly violating Jana’s orders. But when uncertainty flickered in the woman’s eyes at his silence, he decided it would be wise to respond. “Good morning.”

The woman’s eyes shone. The little children gawked at him. The dog jerked on its leash and whined when it couldn’t flee.

“King, what’s with you?” The woman shook her head. “You’d think a German shepherd wouldn’t be such a sissy. And he usually isn’t. I guess you’re just intimidating wearing all that black.”

Or more accurately, his bio-implants put out a subtle frequency that bothered the dog. But not Sadie. That creature was an enigma, yet somehow endearing. He could hear her barking from inside the house now, demanding that he return. She thought she owned him, the little beast.

The woman looked him up and down and asked, “We haven’t met. Are you a friend of Evie’s?”

“Not Evie. I know Jana.”

“Ah, one of Jana’s friends.” She nodded with a knowing smile that gave him the feeling he was only one of many men who considered themselves a “friend” of Jana’s.

“We are looking after Evie’s house in her absence.”

“Patti’s not pet sitting?”

Cavin shook his head. Who was Patti?

“Anyway, I’m Cheryl. I live in that house.” She pointed across the street to a dwelling similar in hue to Evie’s. “I saw you and just wanted to say hi. I’m here all day, so if you need anything, let me know.” She waved cheerily, gathered the children, and let the big nervous dog pull her away.

Before he was delayed any further, Cavin made an about-face and strode up the driveway to the house. His wound ached as he walked. The laceration itself didn’t pain him, but internally, he was taking longer than he’d expected to heal. The level of nano-meds in his bloodstream had fallen. It meant his implanted computers were not keeping up with his body’s demands. And that told him they’d been damaged worse than he thought in the crash. His only hope was that they’d regenerate the damaged areas. But if his bioengineered parts could recharge and regenerate, so could the REEF’s.

It made it all the more important to stay one step ahead of the assassin. In order to do that, he needed to finish shoring up the defenses of Jana’s sister’s dwelling, so if anyone attempted entry, he’d be alerted. With purpose in his step, Cavin returned to the interior. There was much to be done before Jana returned.

N
ONA AND
S
TEVE GREETED
Jana when she arrived in the office. It was her routine to receive a quick briefing every morning from Nona, her chief of staff, while Steve sat in.

Jana hung up her suit jacket in the coat closet and tried to push the bizarre events of the past day out of her mind—and off her face—if only temporarily. “You have a very expressive face,” Cavin had told her. She blushed, thinking about what he’d been referring to—sex in a ditch—and hoped none of it was visible to Steve or Nona.

Vicky, the office secretary, hadn’t arrived yet, but already her desk was covered with stacked piles of paper and files that looked ready to topple. Jana frowned irritably at the towering stacks. “Look at all those dead trees. People are getting paid better than you are for printing, sorting, stapling, hole-punching, stacking, organizing and distributing mountains of paperwork I could just as easily have called up on the computer. Entire forests were cut down to produce the paper I need to consider policies for conservation and the timber industry. Tell me how this makes sense. Yet, no one in either political party seems interested in staunching the flow of paperwork around here.”

She marched into her office, fell into her desk chair and heaved a big sigh.

Nona and Steve peeked in. “You okay?” Nona asked.

“Fine. A little stressed.”
A little? Ha.

Nona nodded with sympathy. “It’s understandable.”

It sure was. Just yesterday, her father’s troubles had seemed like the end of the world. Now, Cavin’s news that an invasion was in the works confirmed it.

“Let’s get the coffee flowing,” said Steve. A carafe of Starbucks waited on the desk along with the usual box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts, Steve’s addiction. Nona poured three coffees, each precisely to the same level, adding cream to Jana’s, cream and sugar to Steve’s, and taking hers black, which fit her personality to a tee.

Nona was short, trim, with a no-nonsense silver bob. She wore absolutely no makeup; she bit her nails to the quick, and had the most stunning turquoise and silver Navajo jewelry Jana had ever seen. Everyone knew Nona was the best chief of staff out there, and she’d still be someone else’s if she hadn’t made the blunder of having an affair with her previous boss’s wife. When the news had come through the grapevine she’d been fired, Jana hired her on the spot. Nona’s stumble was Jana’s gain.

Jana sipped coffee as Steve briefed. “We’ve got seven requests for interviews. I expect more as the day goes on. All with regards to the campaign-funds scandal.”

“The campaign-funds
lies,
” Jana muttered.

“Divert them all, or do you want to take any?”

“What do you say, Nona?”

“Divert them all for now. A low profile is your best defense right now.”

A low profile? Jana thought of Cavin and wanted to weep. Her hand shook as she chose a frosted doughnut. “I agree. Steve, write up a benign, general statement and send it out. We’ll keep it low-key, act like we’ve got nothing to hide, and maybe everyone else will take the hint and do the same.” She bit into the doughnut. Sweetness exploded in her mouth. “Oh…”

Nona sat down with her coffee, her expression puzzled. “Since when do you eat doughnuts?”

Jana stopped to think. “I guess since now.” She tore off another sugary piece and popped it in her mouth. “I don’t think I’ve had a doughnut since…I was nine.” When she was the girl she’d forgotten along the way to responsible adulthood, had forgotten until “Peter” came crashing back in her life, looking for her. The doughnut was delicious. Her eyes slid half-closed.

Worry lines dug in between Nona’s brows. “It’s a witch hunt,” she said. “The paper’s all over it. Here, it is on the front page.” She laid the
Sun
on the desk. Jana, anxious to see what had been written about her father, slid the paper closer.

Car Sliced In Half! Local Police Asking For Help In Hunting Down Suspects In Bizarre Crime.

A piece of doughnut went down the wrong way. Jana choked. Coughing, eyes tearing, she gaped at the newspaper as Nona jumped up to pound her on the back.

Jana dashed away her tears with the heel of her palm and shoved on her reading glasses. Below the headline was a blurry picture—the one the man had taken with his cell phone. All there was to see of Jana was her left leg from the knee down. But the photo had captured Cavin from helmet to platform boots as he bent over to get in the car. His form was more blurred than the rest of the photo, wiped out beyond recognition. Then she remembered what he’d said: the armor was smart; it “saw” the camera and distorted the image.

Three Stolen Cars Recovered. Linked To Crime. And each wiped clean of identifying fingerprints, thank goodness, but what if she’d dropped something out of her purse? Jana sprinted through the article, looking for anything else that could lead the police back to her door:

Only her late twenties? Bless that couple, whoever they were.

They had no idea how angry.

Jana gnawed nervously on her knuckle. When she went out, anywhere, she was either sharply professional or “dressed down” in designer sportswear. Jewelry, hairstyle, perfect. She always took the time to make sure she was accessorized properly. But not yesterday. No, yesterday was an aberration in every way a day could be.
They won’t think it was me!

“If you get any closer to that newspaper, your nose is going to bounce off that desk,” Nona said.

Jana sat up straight and put down the half-eaten doughnut. She’d lost her appetite. “A car cut in half? I can’t imagine how it happened.”

Nona shrugged. “Aliens?”

Jana pretended to laugh along with Steve.

Nona flipped the paper over. “It gets stranger and stranger. Look. They found a pair of women’s shoes on the street where the first stolen car was abandoned.”

Jana choked again. Yellow canvas open-toe high heels sporting jaunty raffia bows. Her shoes. She’d forgotten all about them.

“You okay?” Steve asked. “You’re not coming down with anything are you?”

Nah, just a psychological collapse
. Jana shook her head. “A little vitamin C and I’ll be fine.” Followed by a bottle of tequila and a nice long coma.