The Mandala Maneuver Page 14

  Letting her finger rest on the touch pad, she let it seek through the bands, searching for the one carrying other voice traffic. A few crackled in and out, but she could tell that was just background noise. Then:

  “…heard anything from the team?” The voice was male, and definitely Gaian. She thought she even detected a Midwest twang to it.

  “Not a peep. Should’ve been back hours ago, but maybe it’s taking ’em longer to dig a couple of graves than they thought.” The second voice was also male and Gaian, but she didn’t recognize the accent for sure. She supposed it really didn’t matter. Gaian was Gaian.

  She glanced up at Lirzhan, and his cool green eyes met hers. It didn’t take a theoretical physicist to figure out whose graves the two strangers were talking about.

  “Are you going to send anyone out to look for them?”

  “Hell, no. We’re shorthanded enough as it is. They were hired because they’re professionals — I’m not going to babysit them. Besides, Ono will have my ass in a sling if we’re behind on our quota this week.”

  “Got it. I’m heading back in. I’ll check again in a half-hour.”

  “Roger that.”

  The transmission ended, and Alexa sat there for a minute, processing what she’d just heard. Too bad the two strangers hadn’t referred to one another by name, but you couldn’t have everything.

  “It looks like you were right,” she told Lirzhan. “Whoever’s running that base sent those mercenaries specifically to kill us. Loose ends, I suppose, since we weren’t obliging enough to get blown up with the shuttle or burn up on reentry.”

  “I am not all that happy about being right,” he replied grimly. “But that doesn’t explain what is here that they’re willing to commit murder to protect. Yes, it is clearly some sort of mining facility, but one wouldn’t think such a thing would be that sensitive.”

  “I supposed it depends on what they’re mining.” She reached up under her messy braid to rub the back of her neck, which was feeling more than a little tight. Not enough sleep and too much hunching over the steering wheel of the skimmer, she supposed. “We saw a lot of minerals when we were going through the caves to the south of here. Maybe some of them are more valuable than I thought. I’ll admit to not being an expert.”

  “Neither am I,” he said. “Especially since, although there are some minerals and ores that seem to be replicated on many planets throughout the galaxy, there are others specific to the worlds on which they form. I suppose if something with specific properties was discovered here on Mandala — ”

  “ — then the GEC would want to hush it up so it could come in and exploit it in peace,” she finished bitterly.

  Lirzhan shot her a curious glance. “You do seem to have a rather low opinion of the GEC.”

  “They’re not exactly known for their squeaky-clean standards and practices.” She and Lirzhan had already hashed this out, more or less, so Alexa really didn’t see the need to go over it again. Just because she worked for the government, and indeed had a duty to advance the Consortium’s interests, didn’t mean she was wearing rose-tinted ocular implants.

  “Including murder?” His tone was mild enough, but somehow she could hear the condemnation in it.

  “If whatever they’re pulling out of the ground here is valuable enough, then…yes.” She hated to admit such a thing to him, but she wouldn’t lie. Not to Lirzhan.

  Besides, wouldn’t he see a lie for what it was?

  For a second or two he didn’t say anything. He only watched her, and she felt some of her resolve begin to crumble. Because she might not be empathic the way he was, but she could see how worried he was for her…for them. Here in the sunlight the elusive rainbow flash of his finely scaled skin was even more obvious, and she wondered again at how his people could hide so much beauty from the rest of the galaxy.

  Maybe it’s because the rest of the galaxy doesn’t deserve it, she thought. Or at least we Gaians don’t. Not most of the time, anyway.

  For all she knew, that was part of the reason why she’d gone with Trin, an alien, instead of another Gaian. Oh, sure, workplace romances were frowned on, but they happened all the time, especially when a group of people was assigned to one post for a lengthy period. At the time she’d told herself it was because she didn’t want to be with anyone who knew anything of her origins, of where she’d come from. Those files were supposed to be confidential, but word got around…maybe from a leak in the payroll office, where they’d have to set up the automatic deductions from her salary to begin the reimbursement for her education, all the years she’d spent in foster care. Yes, she’d gotten grants and scholarships, too, but they were never enough. And she had a sneaking suspicion the system was purposely set up that way.

  “We will get out of this, Alexa,” Lirzhan said, bringing her back to the present, and laid his hand on hers.

  Damn right they would. What would happen then, she had no idea, but she wasn’t about to let the money-grubbers win this round.

  Eleven

  Lirzhan had hoped that once Alexa had more or less confirmed that the people running the mining facility were behind the murder attempt, she would abandon her notion of trying to get inside and find out more. However, the confirmation only seemed to have strengthened her resolve.

  “I can do this,” she argued while she rooted through the cargo compartment in the back of the skimmer, unearthing such useful objects as a flare gun, a length of high-tensile rope, a tool kit, and a photo ID with “Mandala Mining Group” printed on it. True, Alexa looked nothing like the low-browed individual pictured on the piece of plastic, but he guessed she was hoping that from a distance it might pass. “Perfect,” she added, clipping it to the pocket flap of the coveralls she wore.

  “I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Lirzhan remarked. He knew better than to try to keep her from her current task, so he attempted to redirect her focus. “It is clear that what is going on here is illegal. I still believe the best thing to do is go someplace safe and attempt to reprogram the beacon. If we sent a signal to Zhore — ”

  “The cavalry would swoop in and rescue us?”

  He had to stop and process the word “cavalry” for a second, as there was no analogue on his home world. His people had domesticated animals, true, but they had not used them for transportation. “In a manner of speaking, yes. We already have enough evidence to bring this matter to the Council, so why risk yourself with this so-called ‘Nancy Drew’ enterprise?”

  “Because you don’t know that you’ll be able to reprogram the beacon, while I know for certain that they’ve got subspace comm equipment in that facility. No base this remote would be built without having a way to call home.”

  On the surface that sounded logical enough, but the risks involved were far too great. “What will you do if you’re caught?”

  “I won’t get caught.”

  “You cannot know that for certain.” He went to her then, took her hands in his. At first he worried that she would pull away immediately, but she did not, although her full mouth and fine chin were set, indicating she was in no mood to hear any more arguments. “I do not want anything bad to happen to you.”

  Something in her softened somewhat, and her fingers tightened around his. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to me, either. Look, what if I try that transport ship out on the pad first? I didn’t see anyone guarding it, and of course it’ll have a subspace comm unit as well. I’ll transmit the code to contact Targus Station and be out of there in less than five minutes.”

  That plan did sound marginally better. “You have the code for Council headquarters?”

  “Yes.” She smiled up at him. “I always make sure to memorize the codes of where I’m going and where I’ve been, just in case. And of course the home office on Gaia, but in this case I don’t think that’s going to help us too much.”

  “Well…” He dragged the word out. It also had no true Zhore equivalent, but he’d found it quite handy for the times when
he needed an extra moment to gather his thoughts. He hated that he could not come along with her, but at least she would, as a Gaian, more or less blend in. There was no way he could hide his alien features. “All right. Try the transport first. But if you see any signs of anyone, get out as quickly as you can. And give me the code before you go,” he added, thinking it was in their best interests for him to have it as well. Just in case.

  “Of course I will.” She gazed up into his face, and something in her own features shifted. When he’d first seen her, he thought her beautiful but brittle. There was something much softer about her mouth now…or perhaps that was only because he knew what it tasted like. “I don’t know what’s happening between us, precisely, but I do know I don’t want to lose it.”

  The only correct response to that was to pull her close and kiss her, feel the charge of the connection between them like a great rush of heat through his whole body. Her mouth opened beneath his, and he savored the taste of her, the warmth and softness and strength all combined into an elixir that was uniquely her.

  “I don’t want to lose it, either,” he said huskily after they pulled apart.

  “You won’t. I promise.” She pulled away, but gently, as if she didn’t want him to think of it as a rejection. “Let’s head back.”

  He nodded, but with reluctance, and took the passenger seat again as she resumed her position behind the wheel. She retraced their previous route, but slowly, and settled the skimmer well within the trees, meaning she’d have to hike a few hundred yards in the open to get to the landing pad. Yes, there were some large boulders scattered in that area, as if they’d been pushed there to get them out of the way of the construction of the facility, but he didn’t know if they would truly provide adequate cover. He supposed it depended on how good the surveillance at the base actually was. Perhaps they had skimped on it, thinking they had the whole planet to themselves.

  One could hope, anyway.

  She shut down the engine and turned to him. “This shouldn’t take me more than twenty minutes…unless I can’t get access to the ship. Then I’ll have to get inside the facility somehow.”

  “Or you could come back here,” he suggested, earning himself a very sour look.

  “I’ll decide when I’m there. If something feels wrong, then I’ll run like the wind, okay?”

  “Okay.” He didn’t bother to keep the reluctance from his tone. Alexa knew very well how he felt about the situation.

  A kiss on the cheek and a brush from one of the loose strands of hair hanging around her face, and she was gone. He wished she had found some handheld comms in the cargo box, but apparently those could give too much away, and so the mercenaries had not carried any with them.

  No, he would have to sit here and wait, and pray that nothing untoward occurred.

  The landing pad had seemed much closer when viewed from her vantage point in the skimmer than it did once she was actually on the ground, but there wasn’t much she could do about that now. She dodged from boulder to boulder, stopping occasionally to listen, to strain for any sound that might indicate someone had spotted her. Nothing except the faint whistle of the wind, and a rhythmic clanging sound that must be coming from the refinery. It would have been easier, perhaps, to fly the skimmer here directly — except she would have had to transmit the correct code to get permission to land, and of course she didn’t have that.

  She really didn’t want to try to figure out where this sudden burst of boldness had come from. It wasn’t that much like her, to take such unnecessary risk. All right, it wasn’t precisely unnecessary. Lirzhan kept protesting that he could reprogram the beacon, but she didn’t see how that was going to work, since he’d admitted he didn’t have any particular technical expertise.

  What she was feeling right now was almost as foreign as the sensations she’d experienced when Lirzhan kissed her. Those, however, although unusual, were welcome, appealing. But what spurred her to action now was quite different. The only phrase for it was “righteous indignation.” No, scratch that. “Indignation” sounded too polite. It was anger, a fury burning through her with an intensity that surprised even her. They’d tried to kill her, kill Lirzhan. And all to cover up some dirty mining operation, some bureaucrat’s or politician’s latest scheme to line their pockets.

  Screw that.

  Almost to the edge of the landing pad now. Alexa paused, scanning the area as best she could from the cover of the last boulder before there was only empty concrete between her and the transport ship. She saw a pair of men walk the perimeter of the pad, then head back inside the building.

  Damn. Maybe Lirzhan was right — this plan was crazy, and she should just go back and help him try to figure out the beacon.

  Don’t be an idiot, she told herself. You’re here now, and they’re gone, so suck it up and do what you came here to do.

  Still she waited a minute more, watching to see if they would re-emerge. The pad remained empty, however.

  Now or never.

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened, then came out from the shelter of the boulder and walked across the landing pad as if she had every right to be there. From her left hand swung the toolkit she’d found in the cargo container of the skimmer. She’d figured it would provide some sort of protective camouflage; if anyone asked her what she was doing out there, she could always try to lie her way out and say she’d been sent to do some maintenance on the transport. Of course, such a subterfuge was predicated on there being enough personnel stationed here that they wouldn’t be able to tell at a glance that she wasn’t an actual member of the facility’s staff.

  First things first. She headed for the hatch in the center of the ship, which luckily faced out toward the open space around the pad, and not back toward the barracks on the other side. As she’d hoped, there was a flip-up compartment where the controls to open the hatch and extend the steps were located. She pushed the button, and with a metallic whine the door retracted into the ship at the same time a set of folding stairs lowered to the concrete.

  The noise seemed excruciatingly loud to her, but a quick glance around told her that no one seemed to have noticed. All remained empty and still. Probably all the residents of the barracks were down in the mines or elsewhere in the facility, since this would be the middle of their working day, and the guards had not yet returned while making their rounds.

  No more time for speculation. She hurried through what was obviously the passenger section of the ship, with rows of uncomfortable-looking seats. Most likely a decommissioned military ship converted to civilian use…or at least made to look that way. She still didn’t know who or what exactly was behind this entire outfit.

  But the cockpit seemed fairly standard, and there was the comm unit in the center of the console, situated exactly halfway between the pilot’s and the copilot’s chairs. She wasn’t going to bother with either one of those, however — this wouldn’t take that long.

  Although of course she didn’t know how to fly a starship, she’d ridden in enough of them, big and small, to know how the comm worked. Actually, she’d been able to watch it up close and personal, since Trin had owned a small intra-system craft that he’d used to fly her from Eridani’s surface to the base on one of its moons and back. Low-gravity sex was definitely an experience, one they’d indulged in during an extended weekend on the Eridani moon base.

  She couldn’t think about that now, though, and didn’t want to, because that would only lead her to thinking about what such activities might be like with Lirzhan…and she didn’t know precisely how to react to that. Not now, anyway.

  Shaking her head, she reached out and pushed the button to activate the comm unit. The display flashed to life. Enter comm code.

  She hesitated for a few seconds. Should she contact her superiors back on Eridani, who must now surely think her dead…or should she abandon that idea and send word directly to Targus Station? To do the latter would signal more than anything what a break she had made with her pre
vious existence, because she would be reaching out to the Council then, and not her own government.

  Her government, which just might have sent people to kill her.

  Mouth twisting, she punched in the code for Targus Station. A few seconds later, a cool female voice, with the soft, rounded tones of an Eridani, came over the speaker.

  “Targus Station. Please identify yourself.”

  “Ambassador Alexa Craig. I — ”

  “Ambassador Craig!” The unknown woman’s voice wasn’t sounding quite so cool now. “We were informed that your ship was lost with all passengers and crew. Where are you?”

  “A planet called Mandala, system designation GSC 2897. Our shuttle was pulled from subspace and fired upon.”

  “Pulled from — ” The woman broke off. “And Ambassador Lirzhan?”

  “He’s fine. We need an immediate evacuation, but be warned that there are hostile interests working here on the planet’s surface.”

  “Understood.” A brief silence, as apparently the comms officer at Targus Station worked out Mandala’s coordinates. “We can have a ship there in approximately six hours.”

  Relief washed over Alexa. Six hours. That was nothing. She and Lirzhan could just hunker down in the skimmer, eat a picnic, bird watch, or what-have-you, and by the end of the day, this whole nightmare would be over.

  A harsh male voice barked, “You there! Stay where you are!”

  A wave of cold fear hit her right in the gut. She froze…leaving the comm channel open. That way the officer on the other end at Targus Station could hear exactly what was going on, and get some idea of what sort of situation the rescue party would face. But at least help was already on the way, and would be here in approximately six standard hours.