Chapter Fourteen
Unfortunately Jordan showed his not so attractive side later that evening when he eventually stumbled into our room some time after midnight. Even though Terron alcohol smelt and tasted much better then the few beverages I'd sampled on Earth, I knew he had been drinking far too much from the way he tripped over things and swore under his breath, probably from stubbing a toe or two.
And when he finally collapsed onto the bed, I smelt the liquor on him. It wasn't an unpleasant scent, but I was in no mood to deal with a drunken man, since I'd never particularly liked it when my father came home tanked. Luckily that hadn't happened too often, usually only after my mother had nagged him to such an extent that he told me he was going off-world for a while.
Luckily for me, Jordan passed out a few minutes later, but only after he had tossed and turned and grunted half a dozen times, jostling the bed so much I felt like I was on a trampoline. Typical male. How was he any different to every other man who liked his booze? But somehow I suspected Jordan wasn't normally a heavy drinker. Like Dana had said, he had a lot on his mind right now, and just wanted a bit of time, as my father had so eloquently put it – ‘off-world’.
Eventually I nodded off, and woke to the dulcet tones of Jordan groaning and complaining that his head hurt. So Terron alcohol supplied just as potent hangovers as Earth alcohol, I thought, unable to stop myself from grinning at his antics.
"It's not funny. I feel like I've been hit by a hover," he complained.
"Your own fault for not watching what you were drinking," I replied as I rolled over to present my back on him.
"Should have known I'd get no sympathy from a time traveler," he grumbled.
"I didn’t tell you to drink the stuff."
A pillow landed on my hip, so I rolled over and shoved it on his chest, dropping myself on top of it. "Go take a shower. You smell like a brewery, a Terron brewery, admittedly -"
He shoved me off him, and lurched out of the bed. I heard the dulcet tones of him throwing up in the bathroom.
"I would have thought with all the incredible technology your race has invented, that your propeller-heads would have come up with a morning after pill by now." I called.
"You're asking for trouble Anita. We don't have to meet the Chancellor till ten, so if you don't want to end up over my knee, I would…" Once again his sentence ended with a loud retch.
"Not that hard-faced man who greeted us when we got here?" I asked uneasily. I'd been hoping our paths wouldn't cross again.
"Yes, we have a lot to organize today… Ahh, that's better. Best method yet I've found for curing a hangover."
"What, by puking your guts up?"
The door opened, and he stood there, leaning against it, looking much healthier than a few minutes ago. Even though he'd slept in his clothes, he was not rumpled or disheveled. That miraculous Terron fabric had already smoothed itself out. All it had taken him to spruce himself up was a comb of his long, gorgeous locks, and he was as handsome as sin. "Yes, by puking my guts up, as you so eloquently put it. Now, shall we take a bath together? I've already started the water running."
"Yes, I can hear it." So he was back to his friendly self, was he? Maybe a night out with the boys had helped ease his stress levels, as talking to Dana had helped me to put my issues more into perspective. But we still needed to talk, and somehow I doubted he'd want to do much of that in the bath.
Jordan started to strip, undoing the buttons on his shirt, which he then threw at me. "Are you getting out of bed, or do I have to come over there and tickle you out of bed?" he challenged, as I pulled his shirt off my head and tossed it to the end of the bed.
"I was just enjoying the view." I stared pointedly at his bare chest.
"What view?" He glanced around the room. "You can't see out the windows from where you are."
I laughed. "The view in here, silly. So don't stop now. You still have a pair of trousers to go."
"Oh, that view," he cottoned on with a cheeky smile. "You like that view, do you?"
"What do you think? I've never been married to a better looking man."
Jordan placed his hands on his hips, his impressive muscles flexing as he frowned down at me. "And just how many husbands have you had, since I know you Earthlings can marry numerous times without it meaning anything."
I couldn't believe it; the man was actually jealous. I couldn’t think of any other reason for that dark look on his face. "I haven't been married to anyone, Jordan. Here’s the reason: because as Ruth Clarke I was fat, plain and not very interesting." There I had said it, and the bitterness staying with me as I regarded his still form. He didn't move a muscle as he digested this information.
Then he came and sat down on the bed beside me. "That's all in the past now, my love." Gently he stroked the side of my face. "No matter what you look like, the bond would make you irresistible to me. The fact that you've somehow managed to come here for a second chance must mean the power that governs the universe isn't done with you yet." He continued to caress my cheek, and his gentle touch helped calm my self-doubt a little, but I still felt the compulsion to explain it to him.
"No man's ever looked at me twice, Jordan. I never went on a date, and my mother told me far too many times not to hope for marriage or children, because I was just too plain and boring."
"Your mother has a lot to answer for," he muttered under his breath.
"If I had a picture I'd show you, but we kept very few photos. You wouldn't have liked me the way I was before I came here. I was almost fifty, a good twenty kilos overweight, with dull brown hair, going grey, and a double chin."
“Believe it or not, but I’m over fifty of your years," he said with a wry smile.
"So the Aging would have turned you your true age?" I asked.
"Something like that, so I can understand where you're going with this, Ruth -"
"Anita," I corrected him. "Didn't we agree on Anita?"
"Well, there you go." He slid his hand down the side of my neck, to squeeze my shoulder. "You want to be Anita now, and that's how it will be, at least until we sort out this mess she's gotten herself into." He took a deep breath, his massive chest rising. "There is one thing I'm glad about in you being Ruth."
"What's that?" I asked.
"You didn't have to go through what that poor girl did at the hands of those disgusting Rembrandts. It might be your body they violated, but thankfully you have no memory of it."
"I might have ended up pregnant from it though," I said uncertainly.
"If that was the case, all the hormones I pumped into your system on our mating night would have destroyed anything Human in you womb. Sorry, but our Terron genes are stronger than your Human ones."
I had an image of Terron sized sperm beating up the smaller Human ones pop into my head, and gave an involuntary snort. "Something to be thankful for," I said, glad I wouldn't be bringing any offspring of those odious Rembrandts into the world. It was such a shame they had inherited the family name of such a famous, wonderful artist.
"Now, shall we take that bath?" he asked, standing back up again.
"Oh God, the bath!" I gasped. "It's probably overflowing by now!”
Jordan rushed across the floor and into the bathroom. "Not quite, but almost. Are you coming in?" he called out.
I needed no further encouragement. I was out the bed and undressed within moments. I never knew washing one another could be so erotic, but Jordan used the soap, his hands, tongue and various other parts of his body to arouse us both, not to mention making us as clean as we could possibly get!
The Chancellor announced that he had a lot to discuss with them when Jordan and Anita arrived at his reception lounge. His mostly female staff scuttled about, pouring tea and coffee for everyone.
Jordan had only been here once many years ago, before he and so many like him had been ordered to the countryside to set up Hytanta farms. They waited at a large table with complicated looking computer equipment set up surr
ounding a central viewing platform of both monitors and holographic imagery. Mark, Brian, Logan and Derek arrived and joined them. The Chancellor's staff welcomed them the same way they had Jordan and Anita, with hot cups of coffee.
Then the Chancellor got down to business. The first item on the agenda was Anita's father. The Chancellor told the group he had contacted him and assured him that his daughter was safe, and that they would hook up a live feed between the planets at 11am.
"Now as you know, I have viewed the memory recordings," he continued. "How do you wish to precede, Anita? Do you want to lay charges, and if so do you want them extradited to Terron to face trial?"
Jordan watched her take a deep breath, so he leant towards her, and said; "They would face a harsher penalty then if they were tried on Earth. We do not take such offenses lightly." He returned his attention to the Chancellor. "Perhaps you could outline all the charges against them?"
"Of course. There is the rape and attempted abduction against Anita. There is also the allegation of unauthorized use of Hytana oil to produce weapons of mass destruction, which of course we will need to investigate further. I have already dispatched a team of unmated males to track them down. After Anita’s kidnapping attempt, I fear I cannot trust any of our Earth representatives. Security has also been heightened and all shields upgraded to maximum power, so no one or no thing will be able to penetrate Terron's atmosphere as long as they are up."
This only confirmed in Jordan's mind that the explosives the Rembrandts were constructing were meant for Terron. What on earth did they have to gain by such a violent act of terrorism? It would mean the end of the Treaty and all oil exports to Earth, not to mention a possible war between the worlds, a war Earth could not possibly hope to win since it had no defense shields. A retaliatory strike from any one of Terron's spindles would effectively vaporize any Earthian warship, and such was the power of the Infinity Squared navigation system, that the Terrons could even direct such energy blasts through the wormhole directly at Earth. Jordan wondered it the Chancellor and the rest of the Terron High Council had considered this, but he didn't voice his concerns. Any missiles now headed for Terron would be spotted in the wormhole long before they reached the planet's shields. Unfortunately the shield couldn't be maintained indefinitely, since it put too much strain on the power-conduits to the planet’s core. But they still had the sensors and the spindles as backup.
"I just wish you could have come to us with this information as soon as you arrived on the planet," the Chancellor said to Anita.
"Do not blame her, your Grace," Jordan intervened. "I doubt she would have known who to approach, and her group were on a very tight schedule. It would have been difficult for her to slip away."
"She could have reported to any number of officials along the way," the haughty man asserted. Jordan wondered if he suspected Anita was involved in the conspiracy. But then he had seen the memory recording. How could any woman want to support men who had abused her so terribly?
"I am concerned that the Rembrandts now know we are after them for questioning, and that they will make it more difficult for our team to find them. The longer our men are on Earth, the higher the risk that they will find their life-mate and become distracted from the mission. That was why it was good to have Earth representatives on our side. Now I wonder who we can trust?" he said grimly.
The Chancellor had made a very good point, Jordan realized. Just which Humans could they rely on now? Definitely the mated females. Possibly some of the highly paid officials in The Administration. But after Anita’s kidnapping, not even their own guards could be relied on. Derek had told him and Logan that pair of scoundrels had been paid handsomely for the loan of their hover.
A light started flashing on the console in front of the Chancellor, and he reached out to tap it with his index finger. "It is time to initiate the hook up with Minister DeBurgh. Any further discussions will have to wait… Yes, go ahead Bianca. Open the line," he said into the speaker to one side of his console.
The holographic monitor at the centre of the table lit up, shining a beam of light to form a cube shape of about a meter square.
Everyone sitting around the table focused their attention on it and waited… and waited.
"Bianca," The Chancellor pressed the glowing button. "The channel is open, but nothing's happening."
"I'm sorry your grace, but this was the time specified,” she apologized. “All I can conclude is that the minister failed to arrive at the designated command centre."
"All right," the regal man grumbled. "We'll give him a few more minutes."
They waited until a quarter past eleven, but DeBurgh never appeared on the channel.
"Bianca, get in touch with Earth Communication's Command and find out what happened," the Chancellor ordered.
"Certainly, your grace," the unflappable Bianca replied calmly.
"I don't like this at all," the Chancellor growled.
Jordan couldn't disagree with that. For someone as important as a government minister not to appear at a pre-arranged intergalactic com-link, meant that something must have gone terribly wrong. They found out just how wrong a few minutes later.
"The prime minister of Australia has a message for us," Bianca's voice came through the loud-speaker a moment later. "Shall I put him through now?"
"Yes, of course," the Chancellor said.
A middle-aged man's face appeared in the holographic square. "Are they ready for me?" he asked as he glanced down.
"Yes. Go ahead prime minister," Bianca encouraged.
The Chancellor leant forward, and a similar square appeared around his head and shoulders. "This is Second Chancellor Nicholas Badwana. The com-link is live."
"Ah Nicholas. Good morning," the other man said, as though he really was sitting there shoulder-deep in the middle of the desk. Jordan supposed it would look odd to Anita, who had come from a time long before intergalactic communication. "I will get straight to the point, since it was my minister of trade, Damien DeBurgh, you were waiting for. With shock and grief I must inform you that minister DeBurgh was found dead in his home in the early hours of this morning. He had been shot in the head at point blank range in what appears to be an execution-style assassination."
Anita gasped in horror. Jordan reached out to comfort her before realizing she was now Ruth, and hadn’t even known Damien DeBurgh.
"It's all right," she whispered as he drew her close. "I can handle it."
"I know his daughter is there. If I may address her," the prime minister said gravely.
"Yes, she's here," the Chancellor said. "But she appears to be rather shaken."
"As are we all. My deepest sympathies, Miss DeBurgh. Your father loved you dearly, but unfortunately realized too late the trouble he was in. I am so glad you managed to escape in time." He took a deep breath. "Rest assured, we are doing all we can to find the culprits, since we now know who sent the assassins."
"Ian and Oliver Rembrandt," Anita said loudly.
"He can't hear you," Jordan told her quietly. "He can only communicate with the Chancellor. They're talking from one end of the galaxy to the other. Even with Infinity-Squared making the distance as short as possible, it isn't easy to hold such long portals open."
"Should have known they wouldn't want to do the dirty deed themselves," she muttered grimly.
Suddenly a loud boom filled their eardrums. The whole room started to shake. For a moment all the lights dimmed and flickered. Then they came back on, but the holographic image of the prime minister was gone.
"What the hell was that?" Logan gasped.
"Oh my Stars!" Mark pointed towards the window.
Everyone jumped to their feet and rushed to the large pane. A huge plume of orange had mushroomed into the air several kilometers away.
"It's the spaceport," Derek cried. "They've hit the spaceport!"
"But… but how? I thought all shields and sensors were operating at full capacity!" Jordan shouted. Anita grabbed his a
rm. He placed his larger one over it, staring in absolute horror as the cloud billowed up into the sky, beginning to block out the sun.
"They could have filled a space transport with explosives," cried Derek, the military minded.
"But isn’t everyone and everything searched by security before they leave?" Jordan cried.
"If they can bribe our own guards into lending out hovers, I bet they could bribe their own officials into turning a blind eye while they hijack a transport ship. Hell! How many people have died on that thing?" Derek said bitterly.
"How many have died on the ground?" Logan added, his face sheet white.
"What the fuck do those bastards want?" Jordan hissed.
"I have a feeling we will find out shortly," the Chancellor said, as the rest of his staff hurried into the room, obviously coming to see what their boss wanted them to do now. They looked as ashen and grave-faced as Logan, and as Jordan probably did himself. A sick feeling was starting to foam in his gut.
"Bianca, try and reopen the com-link with Earth. And get the First Chancellor on the line," the second Chancellor commanded, as efficient as ever despite the dire situation that had befallen the planet. Yes, they had other space-ports, but Jordan knew there would be no more ships arriving from Earth until the Rembrandts were apprehended. And after that, who knew what would happen.