Peri must have picked on my interest, because she leaned so far forward that she did a somersault and landed in my lap. With a gurgle of embarrassment, she righted herself and hopped to the console for a better look.
I didn’t blame her. I seriously wanted to crawl into the vid and swarm all over him.
While I was in the process of trying to get my eyeballs back in my head, he moved to face the decked-out dandy, a beam of sunshine picking out copper highlights in the dark chocolate hair that waved gently in a slight breeze. To my horror, the dandy drew a jewel-encrusted sword from the scabbard attached to his belt and took aim at the unarmed object of my lust.
I completely forgot that this had happened at least five cycles ago. My hands tightened into a death grip on the chair arms as the sword whistled through the air toward the man’s neck. Only by the time it reached him, he wasn’t there anymore. In a blindingly fast move for such a large man, he whirled and stooped as the sharp metal edge passed over his head. And when he straightened, there was a sixteen-inch knife in his hand pointed directly at the dandy’s gut.
Breath I hadn’t realized I was holding whooshed out of me as the surrounding group of trainees whistled and cheered. The dandy laughed and clapped the man on the shoulder before returning his sword to its sheath.
As I leaned back in my chair, the vid shut off and my entire body went into mourning. I wasn’t done looking at him yet, damn it all. “Who is he?” I asked Lillith.
“I believe that was Reynard du’Marr, commander of the king’s army. The man with the jewels was King Politaus. According to my information they often put on exhibits for the common soldiers. It keeps up morale to know their ruler is just a man like them.” She gave a delicate snort. “As if.”
“Du’Marr,” I mused, ignoring everything else she’d told me.
“It means ‘to move like lightning,’ in their language.”
Immediately I perked up. “You have a language program?”
“Yes, it was included in the download. It seems to be based on Galactic Standard, so by tomorrow you’ll speak Madrean like a native.”
“Excellent. I’ll be able to communicate with him.”
She let out the equivalent of an AI gasp. “What do you mean, communicate with him? Are you out of your mind? On the list of Madrean men you must avoid at all costs, he’s Number One.”
Instantly, my heart sank. “Why isn’t the king Number One?”
“Because, while the king might grab your ass, he wouldn’t really look at you. Reynard du’Marr would. The man didn’t get to be commander of the imperial army by being a slacker. He’s sure to notice every little detail, and according to my files he’s totally loyal to the king.”
My lips formed a pout. “I bet I could pull it off and he’d never realize I was an off-worlder. Just for an hour.” I thought that over. “Okay, maybe three hours. With not much talking involved.”
Her voice took on the stern tones of a judge handing down a sentence. “You have been a full-fledged, certified agent for all of eight hours. You have no practical experience. This man is a warrior, trained to be observant, and he’s dealt with members of the Federation before. Promise right now that you won’t seek him out, or arrange to meet him ‘accidentally.’ If you can’t give me your word, I’m turning around right now and heading back.”
Surprised, I turned to look out the side window. Sure enough, I’d been so absorbed in the vid that I hadn’t noticed her taking off. Already, Centaurius was a silvery dot, and the suns were dwindling rapidly. Even Primus, the small red sun usually rendered invisible by the brighter rays of the two yellow stars, was discernible.
A hard, hollow knot formed in my chest as I watched the planetary system fade away into the distance. It was temporary, I assured myself. I would get my old life back.
“Well? I’m waiting.”
I swiveled back to face forward and sighed. “Fine. I promise not to go looking for him, or try to meet him accidentally. As much as it pains me, I will do everything in my power to avoid the man.”
“And if you do happen to run into him, you will not speak or even bat your lashes at him.”
“Oh, come on! What if he asks me a question?”
“Pretend your throat has been cut.”
“Yeah, that’ll really fool him.”
“I can always arrange to make it real,” she said, her voice taking on a silky tone, as if the idea pleased her.
“No, you can’t.” I grinned. “You’re programmed to protect your partner. And you can’t change who you were created to be, any more than I can. So why don’t we call a truce and try to get along?”
She grumbled for a bit, and then gave in. “Truce.”
Satisfied, I leaned back in the chair. “Do you have any more vids with Reynard in them?”
“Agent Adams!”
“Well, I have to start somewhere,” I told her. “Maybe if I watch him enough it’ll get him out of my system.” But even as another vid sprang up in front of me, I knew I was lying. I’d never been so instantly attracted to a male before. No way was watching a few vids going to get him out of my system.
CHAPTER 3
Time really flies when you’re immersed in learning about the culture and politics of a planet full of people, even when the facts are limited. After all, the Federation only had a half cycle to gather info before they were kicked off Madrea, and that was five cycles ago. But what they did get, along with what they pieced together from old records and added to the modern political brouhaha surrounding the new planet, was fascinating.
Madrea’s original settlers had boarded the Zodiac, one of the first privately owned colony ships to leave Centaurius.
According to Bureau records the human cargo had consisted of two groups that had stayed segregated after migrating to Centaurius from Old Earth. The first was a branch of the Romany people called the Bashalde, and the second comprised descendants of people from Spain, Italy, and France. The groups had only two things in common: a shared language and a hatred of modern technology. Each group longed for the days when life was simpler and work was done by hand. In other words, Dr. Daniels had been right. They were technophobes.
The Bashalde were nomads, their society pastoral. They claimed the southern deserts on the largest land mass of Madrea, traveling from city to city, selling or trading the animals they bred, offering up their crafts and performing.
Although they roamed separately in family groups, the Bashalde were one people, ruled by one man, Chief Lowden. In the Bashalde culture, he was the spirit and heart and law of the clan. Anyone not belonging to a Bashalde tribe was considered a Gadjee, or outsider.
The second group was basically a bunch of farmers, using their agrarian roots to turn the alien landscape into arable soil suitable for their Earth-normal crops. They claimed the northern part of the largest continent, and, as most social humans are prone to do, built cities.
The majority of these municipalities were small communities, with the only really big city being Bastion, where the king’s castle was located. After so many generations, they’d forgotten the city was named after Francois Bastion, the captain of the Zodiac, had even forgotten their ancestors originated on Old Earth. They barely remembered Centaurius. And the rest of the universe had forgotten them, until an exploration team stumbled across Madrea six cycles ago.
In itself, finding a lost human colony wasn’t that unusual. It happened every decade or so. What was unusual about Madrea was how closely they’d stuck to their original charter, barring anything that remotely smacked of high technology. Which was why, after the shock of first contact wore off, the king had arbitrarily banned the Federation from the planet.
That was his excuse, anyway. The Federation had a different take on the matter. As they saw it, King Politaus thought rule by democracy endangered his job security, and he wasn’t going to let his people get any bright ideas on the subject.
Whether or not to force the issue had been a hotly debated topic in
the hallowed halls of the Galactic Federation, because it turned out that Madrea was rich in sunstones, which the Federation desperately wanted to get its hands on.
Since I’d been gone from the Department of Protocol for some time now, I’d only heard vague rumors of sunstones. I searched the files until I found an explanation. It seemed sunstones were an opalescent rock that produced energy in massive quantities all out of proportion for their size. The Federation scientists theorized that a two-pound rock could provide power for an area the size of eight city blocks on Centaurius for several cycles. Team one up with a surge crystal that amplified power and the possibilities were endless. Unfortunately, until Madrea was discovered, they were rarer than surge crystals and worth more, ounce per ounce, than Orpheus crystals.
And the native Madrean population had no idea what they were sitting on. They used the sunstones, which gave off a soft glow, as a light source. All over the inhabited continent of Madrea, billions of credits’ worth of sunstones, controlled primarily by the Bashalde, sat idle in glass lamps.
It was enough to drive the greedier element in the Federation Council to the brink of war. This faction was led by Helios One, a resource-poor system in the Perseus arm of the Milky Way Galaxy.
Although if you asked me, Losif Strand, the hereditary ruler of Helios One, was more interested in lining his own pockets than in helping his people. At one point, he’d been under charges for war crimes against the Federation, but his slimy, high-priced lawyer had slid him through a legal loophole and Strand had gone free.
I’d never met him, but I’d heard his speeches to the Federation Council and I’d seen him from a distance, across the grand ballroom at the social gatherings held after each council session.
He was a tall, hawkish man with dark hair and odd amber eyes. Not bad-looking, per se, just too austere and self-absorbed for my tastes.
But the law is the law, and Strand had to leave Madrea alone. And in case any of the worlds in his coalition got too bold, the more conservative worlds were standing by to enforce any breaches of the Federated Constitution. All in all it was a very touchy situation, and I could see why the Federation enforced the king’s ban on the planet. Just by being there I could tip the uneasy peace that was currently holding by a thread.
Not to mention what would happen if it were discovered that Madrea’s abundance of quartz had suddenly turned the world into a potential secondary source of Orpheus crystals, thanks to the Sumantti’s presence on the planet. And one not controlled by the Buri at that.
Immersed in the data as I was, five days zipped by almost without my noticing. My only breaks were for meals, sleep, and the brief time I was on ZT Twelve, picking up my Bashalde clothes.
A word to the wise: never take a dragon bird on a space station filled with boutiques and jewelry stores. They have an affinity for anything that glitters, and no concept of payment for goods received. It took some fast talking on my part to keep from being arrested for shoplifting fifteen minutes after we stepped out on Level Six.
And to add insult to injury, I ended up paying for the gaudiest necklace ever created just to keep the creature happy and occupied while I finished my business. It had flowers the size of Peri’s head in garish colors, and the center of each flower was a fake gemstone. It was also long enough to wrap around her five times, so I had no idea what she planned to do with it, except gloat like a miser over his gold.
“Are you ready?” Lillith’s question interrupted my attempts to forget we’d reached Madrea and I was about to be dumped in the mountains, in the dark, surrounded on all sides by raw, uninhibited nature. Let’s face it. Being created for the Department of Protocol and raised in a crèche with other GEPs of the same bent just doesn’t prepare a gal for this kind of thing.
“No. Not that it makes any difference.” I gave my image one last glance in the mirror. Not bad, if I did say so. The pale beige skirt was just thin enough to give a hint of legs and just thick enough to conceal all the pertinent parts, including a close-fitting weapon sheath attached to my calf. The material swirled around my ankles every time I moved, soft and sexy.
A wide, lemon-yellow belt of soft leather nestled low on my hips, showing off my belly button and stomach. The silky halter top matched my belt, and also served to hide the Imadei, which I’d tucked beneath the silk. It nestled between my breasts, a warm, living stone. The gold bangles on my arms and ears jingled when I walked.
“Are you absolutely certain they don’t have the technology to spot your landing?” I asked Lillith.
“I’m sure. Remember, the original colonists signed a charter shunning any form of technology they couldn’t make with their own hands. They wanted a strictly agricultural world. Now the king keeps all the Federation’s toys away from Madrea, so there’s no detection equipment capable of spotting me. The only ships that land here belong to the black-market scum whose main business involves selling information. And even the black marketeers are few, since they have to get by the Federation outposts without being stopped and searched. The only way to get close is to jump right into the system the way I did, which is very dangerous for ships that don’t have an artificial intelligence in control. Most black marketeers can’t afford AI ships. But to be safe, I just did a scan and there are no ships currently in the area, so no detectors.”
Suppressing a shudder of anxiety, I picked up the artificially aged leather pouch from my bed and tossed a cloak over my arm. “If there are no detection devices, why can’t you drop me closer to the city?”
“Because, even with my lights off, there’s too much risk of someone seeing me closer to the city. I’ve scanned the area where I’ll drop you and there’s no one around. It’s not that far a walk, so stop griping.”
“What if I get lost?” I made my way to the command deck with Peri following. “Seriously, one tree looks pretty much like another to me.”
“I’ll be right above you in a geosynchronous orbit, tracking you through your transmitter chip. If you start going the wrong way, I’ll tell you.”
Nervously I lifted a hand to touch the tiny scar behind my right ear. This particular type of chip was nothing like the biochip used as ID on Centaurius. This one had been implanted shortly after Alien Affairs bought my indenture, and it served as a voice transmitter, receiver, and tracking device for my ship. I’d been heavily trained in its use. Learning to communicate through subvocalization had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but now I was thrilled I’d mastered the ability. Being able to talk to Lillith without anyone knowing gave me a sense of security. Sort of.
At least it would allow her to locate my cold, lifeless body when some huge beast had me for breakfast. Or a small beast. Or a bug.
“What if my chip breaks?” I fretted.
“Echo, it’s not going to break. It’s too small to break. And if it were going to fail, it would have done so long before now.”
“If I die, it’s your fault,” I muttered.
“I’ve handled first-time agents in conditions a lot worse than this and they survived to tell about the experience. Besides, you’re a Gertz GEP. The only way someone can kill you is a direct shot to the head or heart. Anyplace else and you’d heal right up in seconds. All you have to do is pay attention to what I tell you and stay out of trouble.”
“Fine, Oh Great One. Speak.”
She let my sarcasm slide and concentrated on the details. “As you know, Madrea was one of the earliest planets colonized by Earthlings, but their ship’s tracking devices went awry and no one knew where they went until six cycles ago. So any animals you encounter will be of Earth origin. Do you have your knife?”
I lifted my skirt enough so she could see the sheath clinging just below my knee. It held a knife with a wickedly sharp twelve-inch blade. Then I gasped as what she’d said sank in. “You don’t expect me to actually fight an animal with nothing but a knife, do you?”
“You probably won’t have to. I’ll let you know if there’s anything dangerous i
n the area. However, even with infrared scanners I can’t see inside caves, holes in the ground, etc. If the unexpected occurs, wouldn’t you rather have a weapon?”
Indignantly, I let my skirt fall. “I’d rather have a cannon. Or at the least, my blaster.”
“It’s too dangerous. One glimpse of a blaster and everyone would know you’re Federation. Now, I’m going to drop you in a valley about forty-five minutes before sunrise. Wait there until it’s light enough to see where you’re going, and then walk toward the rising sun. When you reach the top of the hill, you’ll be able to see the spires of the castle. Head straight for them and you’ll avoid the outlying farms. You should reach the city late in the evening.”
“What? I thought you said it wasn’t that far a walk!”
“It’s not. Remember, even though their weeks are eight days long, the Madrean days are two hours shorter than Centaurius’s. And if you jog part of the time, you’ll get there faster.”
I glanced down at the sandals strapped to my lower appendages. “I’m pretty sure jogging is not an option in these things. They wouldn’t last a kilometer, and there’s no way I’m getting nature on my bare feet.”
A clanking noise caught my attention and I looked around in time to see Peri stagger out of my quarters dragging that stupid necklace with her. She must have realized we were getting off the ship and gone back for it, and it was too heavy for her to carry when she was flying.
“Oh, no you don’t,” I told her. “You’re going to be hard enough to explain even without you hauling that thing along behind you. You’ll have to leave it here.”
For the last two days I’d picked up her emotions, faintly at first, then stronger. Now she glared at me and rebellion rolled off her in waves.
“Okay, look, will you leave it here if I promise to let you play with my bracelets when I’m not wearing them? Lillith will take good care of the necklace for you, and it’ll be here when you get back.”
She studied my bracelets for a second, then gave a happy cheep and took the necklace back to my quarters.