Shackleton's Folly (The Lost Wonder Book 1) (14 page)

When she had stepped from the shower and he stood there, each devouring the other with their eyes, she wanted him, and he seemed to want her just as badly. Electra drew him close, and they hungrily kissed, his hands sliding down her back, stopping at her waist and pulling her up to him. She tore open his shirt, their breathing syncing with one another. Then, just as suddenly, his mood changed, and he stopped himself. She felt his arousal and expected him to take her, but then he freed her from her slave anklets and left. She had forgotten she was acting the part of the slave girl for real, not for some bedroom role-playing. He would not take advantage of her like that; it was not in his nature. She knew things had become awkward between them, but the mission came first. Electra had waited only a little longer before revealing herself. It needed to be addressed for the sake of the mission and, possibly, for her sake, too.

*

Alec said, “Electra, this is awkward, but, the other night…”

“Yes, I need to explain that to you.” It was her turn to run her hand through his hair. “I must say you were very much a gentleman.”

“Please explain it. Was that… what you did because other masters wanted your sexual favors?” said Alec. He looked away from her to focus on the control panels, hiding any emotions that might have been evident on his face.

Electra reached out and turned his face back to her. “No, I wanted you.”

“If I had known…” he choked out. Alec took her hands in his and drew her closer to him. He saw her anticipation, and he leaned forward and kissed her on her full lips. She responded by pulling his arms to her, bringing him closer. The heat they felt for one another welled up in both of them. They explored each other — a kiss here, a nibble there. He let go of her hands and lowered them to her waist. Electra responded, but her most primal needs were unsatisfied. They slowed to a single, tender kiss. Then they parted, and she held his hand.

“Then we will have to resolve this situation when the opportunity presents itself again,” she grinned.

“Since you remained silent this whole time, I had nothing to go by. Why was that, anyway? I mean the silent routine.” Alec’s body language showed signs of self-confidence.

“Slaves who remain silent tend to be forgotten quicker, and they learn more.” Electra ran her index finger along the back of Alec’s hand.

“So, what did you learn?” asked Alec. He used his free hand to scratch the spot she had tickled a moment before.

“I learned a lot about you and Dancer.”

“All bad, I am sure. Dancer can get crazy.” Alec checked himself.

Electra brought up her other hand and enclosed his with hers. Alec was an honorable man, worthy of her trust and the future of her people.

Alec’s body stiffened as her warmth and touch captured his attention. He felt lightheaded; his heart beating quickly, he tried to refocus the conversation on his mission. He had to move forward with his tribal theory.

Alec and Electra spoke simultaneously. “My people need your help.”

Alec looked incredulously at Electra. “What?” The locks of her hair had a very annoying way of looking freshly tousled after some vigorous physical activity. As she leaned forward, the jumpsuit’s neck opened. He told himself to focus on her face.

Electra took his hand and held it. “My world is facing destruction.” He tried to remove his hand from hers, but she wouldn’t let go of him. Electra nodded toward the navigation computer screen. “I have searched your star charts thoroughly. It is an extensive database you have. The masters that I have served had nothing as extensive and detailed as you have been able to compile.”

Alec smiled. “Space navigation — you have piloting experience.”

Electra stared past Alec at the front ports. “It’s not on your star charts, but, if we get out to the Frontier, I know I can find it.”

“First we have to go to O’s place to see what she has for us. It might just get you home that much faster,” said Alec.

Electra gave his hand a squeeze and sat back in the chair. Alec got a hold of himself. “Yes, O’s it is.”

*

Electra sat alone at the galley’s table with a piece of the inscription in front of her on the royal blue velvet. She examined the surface closely, running her fingertips across the pink material in its natural state. Electra had to contain her excitement. The familiar glyphs etched into the surface seemed to catch her fingers as they ran over them. Before her race had left home, they had received extensive briefings about what it should look like. It was smaller than she imagined, but they were unable to determine if the section was just a piece or a whole unit. She stopped at the glyph of ringed circles that, she felt, were similar to the one on her arm bracelet. The index finger of her hand followed the shape over and over, drawing it into her memory.

She felt torn. This inscription Alec was searching for was not a map or star chart; it was the technology she and her team had left their world to retrieve. This was a problem. Would he still feel the need to take her home? Then there was the issue of divulging the location of her home world to anyone. They were to infiltrate the galaxy and not reveal anything about their origin. They were to search, retrieve, and return. They knew the Empire had fallen. The galaxy was said to have devolved into a dangerous place, and nothing Electra had seen had changed that. Was it prophecy?
The
Prophecy? “For a seeker will appear to hasten the outcome, time’s beginning to time’s end.” She was a well-educated and highly trained member of the security forces on her world. The happenstance of running into Alec when she did was eye opening to her. The inscription in front of her gave her a strange feeling.

Electra spoke up. “I have some knowledge of glyphs like these, and it is very old writing. I know a man, an academic on my world, who can help you translate it. He is familiar with the writings of the Empire.”

“The Empire of the First Ones?”

“The First Ones’ reference is not familiar to me.” She looked over the inscription again. “I believe this is of the Empire.”

Alec crossed the room with two steaming mugs of coffee. He held one out to her. “Thank you,” she said, taking it from him. She held it in her hands, letting the warmth pass through her fingers. She blew on the hot liquid and took a sip.

He put down his mug and took a seat next to her. “We’ll see.” Alec pointed toward the forward bulkhead, “First, O. We still have a package waiting for us.”

Electra gazed at him intently as she tapped the inscription with her fingertips. “What is this to you? Why are you collecting pieces of this writing?”

Alec looked at her to see if he could discern any reaction. “My father said this inscription and other pieces would lead my people to safety; no one knows exactly what it is. My people need a new home. You said you recognized some of the writing as that of the Empire.”

Electra moved the inscription closer to look at the piece again. “It resembles some of the writings from the period when we migrated.” She paused and pushed the inscription to Alec.

“But it’s not what you use for writing today?” Alec put the palm of his hand down on top of the material.

Electra shook her head. “No, it wasn’t our language or that of the Caretakers.”

“Caretakers’? Who were they?” This was something new. Alec decided to follow this new course of information.

“The Caretakers were those who offered us resettlement to our new home. There was an important personage to the Empire on our world, and he had to leave. He offered anyone who wanted to leave with him the chance to resettle. Those who had been living with the Caretakers — who were educated by them and who understood their ways — did not want to be left behind. Those who agreed to move were asked to bring along their belongings. It was so.”

“Are there records of the exodus from Earth?” Alec asked eagerly.

“Alec, I cannot say for certain that we did come from your world. If Dancer says we did, based on our genetics, I believe him.” Electra was concerned. “We were a primitive race compared to those who moved through the stars as gods. The citizens of the Empire.”

“Earth was the birthplace of humanity. Us,” said Alec.

“You should understand that when those who left — if you call it ‘Earth,’ let it be so — were advanced compared with other tribes or city-states but were leaving with a civilization that jumped between stars. They moved planets when it suited them — and more.” Electra picked up her mug and drank some of the now-only-warm coffee. “They had language, mathematics, politics, and a well-run city state. It had become self-contained over the years. Those in charge wanted to limit the possibility of interaction between the Caretakers and other populations.”

“No written history, then. How about a verbal history of your people leaving your old world?” inquired Alec.

“That time was long ago. We have mostly oral traditions dating from that time. My father used to tell me bedtime stories that came from that period. They were about a valiant people taking their future into their own hands and a city that had grown up serving the Caretakers, traveling to the heavens with them. They left their home to continue to grow and become the people we are today.” Electra tried to give him all she could about the time lost in the collective memory of a people with one foot in the fields, shepherding sheep, and the other being the domestic servants of the Empire. “My mission is to search for the people who left my world. They left with something they should not have, and we need it back.”

“A ‘mission’ — why? Was it culturally significant?”

Electra’s demeanor changed as she looked straight into his eyes. She wanted no misunderstanding. “What they took has doomed my world.”

*

Dancer was in his usual seat, managing his bridge duties and viewing a copy of
An American in Paris.
He would have gladly paid for the privilege; an artist should be paid for his work. But not only had the copyright ran out — the world was gone.

Alec watched over the sensors at the extended range settings he had coaxed out of them. He had been mentally going over what Electra had told him about how her people went to the stars. It was hard to match it up with the archaeological digs and history of the civilization he knew. Evidence of an advanced civilization had never been found anywhere on Earth. It would have been recorded somehow, somewhere, among the other peoples living near the settlement. How could this be reconciled with Earth’s history? He pondered an alternate explanation. Electra’s people had left Earth; genetics said as much. They went to another world first and then to the planet where they are now. The oral history she had must be of leaving this other planet — but that didn’t make sense either, because it would have been part of this history as well.

Alec’s attention drifted over to the bulkhead sealing on the compartments with the precious cargo he would have the honor of delivering to its destination one day. He had made a special effort in welding it back into place the way it had been before it had been desecrated by the Koty troops. Alec reached out and rubbed the lucky spot, as he had done before on so many previous adventures. This time, it would pan out for him — he would find it.

The whole thing was gnawing at him. “Something isn’t right,” came his father’s declaration. It was the tone of the voice that got to him.

Alec had one of these mental conversations with his father when he needed to work some things out.

“The girl isn’t telling you everything,” he said tersely.

Alec processed the thought. “I know — she is a strong individual. Living as a slave to explore the galaxy says a lot about character. I could not do it.” Then he had some second thoughts. “Well, it would depend on the situation,” retorted Alec.

“The inscription piece has more than casual interest for her.” It was the voice Alec had heard many a time when he was getting grilled about inferior homework. He had watched many a courtroom drama from the LAP. His father Jack could have been a prosecutor — and Alec the guilty defendant.

“You saw her reaction to it when she saw it for the first time. Electra showed shock — and then masked it almost as quickly as it came.”

“Yes, but I have faith in her. This will work itself out,” he replied.

“Are you forgetting our mission?” queried his father. His eyebrows lifted to their most disappointed level.

“No, but, unlike the council, I have hope. I had hope before, but, now, I am ablaze with it.”

*

Electra appeared on the command deck, disrupting Alec’s thoughts, went to the engineer’s station, and took a seat.

Alec turned as far as he could to see her. “Everything I know says that human migration headed spinward toward where the ancient Empire of the First Ones was said to be. Are we talking about the same thing? Is the Empire you speak of the same as the Empire of the First Ones?”

Dancer appeared and took his seat as copilot. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” He checked their course and
Quest
’s systems. On a separate monitor, he started a classic film rolling —
Singin’ in the Rain
with Gene Kelly. The audio channel was sent directly to his processors, leaving the command deck quiet for the human conversation. He would multitask as he watched the film.

“Your input is welcome, Dancer. We are discussing Empire perspectives,” said Alec.

Electra paused. “Let’s consider them the same for now and evaluate the situation.”

Alec nodded. “Agreed. With this in mind, how did your people get way out here?”

Electra said, “My people were resettled long ago by the Emperor.”

Alec sat back. “He was the Emperor?”

Electra hesitated, “He wasn’t the Emperor when he was on our world with us. A number of ships came for him and informed him he was to become Emperor. It happened thousands of cycles ago. He liked our little world, so he asked us if we wanted to come with him. He said we would feel at home if we came with him. We were a primitive culture and did not understand completely what we had agreed to. He was true to his word in building a place where my people have thrived so long.”