Archon's Queen (54 page)

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Authors: Matthew S. Cox

BOOK: Archon's Queen
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Anna fell into her chair, shaking.

“I see you’ve had the treatment, too.

“James talked me into talking… Somehow smoothed things over with them and he was allowed to ‘take me into custody’ from then on out. He was supposed to study me and give them a full report on what I was capable of.” She took another large bite of peach, licking the wounded fruit. “He never quite got ‘round to that bit.”

Anna leaned forward, hushed. “Do you always traipse about in such skimp?”

“He’s seen your goods more than mine, luv. I tend to leave my togs behind when I cross over, got tired of replacing them.”

“Cross over?”

“Have you heard about astral projection?”

Anna shook her head. “No. I’ve been kind of sheltered.”

“Most psionics who can astrally project are able to leave their bodies behind and roam about like a ghost. They can see and hear things, see spirits and whatnot.”

Her eyebrow climbed. “Ghosts?”

“You toss lightning out of your hands and you want to quibble about spirits being real?” Aurora smiled. “Suffice to say, Awakened are quite a bit more powerful. I don’t just send my soul into the other world. Everything alive goes. Alas, I can’t bring objects… clothes included.”

An eerie feeling accompanied a soft thump. Anna looked up to find the pink robe empty, draped over the peach on the seat of the chair. Bolting to her feet, she glanced around at the cabin.

The voice came spectral, echoing and unearthly. “I’m right behind you, hon.”

Whirling, she saw nothing. A gossamer presence traced an icy line down the bare skin on the back of her leg that made her jump forward. “Eep!”

Aurora’s laughter reverberated through the room, the source moving directly through the table to the other side. A trace of light adjacent to the abandoned chair grew into a ghostly apparition of the woman she had been talking to. Within seconds, the image grew more and more opaque until she was no longer transparent. Once solid, she put her robe back on and retrieved her fruit.

Anna blinked.

“Can’t take anything solid with me. That’s how I kept getting away from them, right through the walls.” The peach got a little smaller. “These are really good, would you like some?”

Sinking into her seat, Anna shook her head. “No, thanks. It almost makes sense why they put bombs in us now.”

“Oh they tried that.” Aurora narrowed her eyes. “Bloody thing fell out when I crossed. Hurt like a bitch.”

It hit Anna funny, sending her into a giggle fit. “You can’t have cyberware either? I’m the same… though I’d just fry it and kill myself.”

“Likely, that. You don’t have to worry about it though. James has the CSB right where he wants them. Well, almost. They still exist, so not quite
exactly
where he wants.”

“Where did he get off to?”

“He’s gearin’ up for something big now that he’s found you.” She glanced up at the middle of the ceiling. “Display on.”

Holographic light shimmered into a terminal screen above the table, two by three feet. Aurora flicked at it with a toe, opening a folder and kicking it apart into individual files. Images of young people, some as little as nine, scattered about the screen. All of them taken from screaming families. Some had been beaten unconscious; men, women, and even children carried away battered and bruised.

“Psionics.” Another bite of peach. “He’s been taking the wee ones out of government
care
for a few years now; and any of the others who want to go. Alas, none of them are like us… They’re ordinary psionics.”

Anna could not believe what she saw; the level of cruelty in the images hit her in the gut like a fist. Some of the parents had been shot trying to stop the arrest of their sons and daughters. Agent Gordon appeared in a handful of the scenes.

“This is all Gordon’s doing, isn’t it?”

Blonde hair swam about as Aurora shook her head. “No, he’s just a tool. There’s a splinter faction within the CSB that would rather see us all eliminated. A couple of hard-liners want to re-enact the witch-hunts. They’ve got backing from the C of E. Whole group of them think psionics are a sign of the Devil’s power.”

Anna closed the files, unable to tolerate at any more. “So what’s he doing?”

“Gathering them and shipping them off somewhere. He’s told me he wants to create a new society for us. If I had to hazard a guess, he’s considering the UCF. Most of Europe is right out; the ACC kills us on sight. Paranoid bastards. No one knows how China feels about psionics, there hasn’t been much information leaked. As far as the Iranians are concerned, they claim they don’t have any psionics.”

“That’s bollocks,” chirped Anna. “Psionics are one to two percent of the population, there’s no ethnic or geographical preference.”

Anna shrugged. “It’s propaganda. There’s more than one religion that fears us.”

“The UCF?” Anna blinked. “It didn’t seem as though he cared much for it… called it ‘the colony’ still.”

Lauren almost spit a hunk of peach across the table with her laugh. “He’s a condescending bugger sometimes, thinks he’s the cat’s whiskers.”

With closed eyes, Anna hugged herself and thought of his face aglow with the aura.

He is.

Anna shifted in the chair, no longer able to ignore the nagging presence in her bladder. “So where’s the loo?”

“Twenty paces out back.”

“Bugger…” With a look like she was walking off to be shot, Anna got up and shuffled outside.

Aurora remained, smiling as Anna walked out.

She licked the peach. “Four… Three… Two…”

Anna’s piercing scream echoed in the distance.

“Seat’s a wee bit chilly, luv.”

Aurora ate the last of the peach.

runching gravel announced the arrival of Doctor Mardling’s gold Mercedes. Aurora reclined on the porch, still clad in the skimpy robe, playing with the silk belt as the car slid to a halt a few meters away. The door closed with a thunk, and he trudged to where she leaned back on her elbows.

“You are overdressed.”

Aurora winked. “We have a guest, and I’m not planning on going anywhere today, unless you need something.”

“No. Everything is in order.” He glanced back and forth from her to the door. “Why are you outside?”

“Your little Pixie has the heat cranked to the nines. Too bloody hot in there.”

“Do you associate with the dead or are you one?” James shook his head. “You would live in the arctic if you could.”

“Sod it, James. I’m not
that
bad. She’s got it over thirty eight degrees.”

He sent a thoughtful glance at the window. “What do you think of this one?”

“Well, she’s rather enamored with you.” Aurora stared off into space, silent for some time until a coy grin slinked over her lips. “I think she will make you happy. The chances of her being disloyal are pretty much
zero
.”

He chuckled, bowed, and went for the door. A wall of heat waited for him inside. Anna reclined on the bed, having abandoned her boots and socks, lost in a video game on her NetMini. James shot a glance at the portable heater as a dirty fork floated up and poked at the holographic controls. Repeatedly stabbing at the downward arrow, he lowered it to a tolerable twenty degrees before the utensil fell to the plate.

The clank made Anna look up. She tossed the handheld to the side and ran to him.

“James.” She wrapped her arms around him. “Is something wrong? You look worried.”

His face settled into sublime calm as he endured her clinging. “Anxious is a better term, my dear. A lot of innocent lives are depending on me right now, yours included.”

She glanced out the window, at trees shifting in a soft, whispery wind. “Do you think we’ll be safe out here in the country?”

“Reasonably, but it is not a long term solution. Your efforts at liberating your former roommate have created a tenuous climate back in the city. This should afford us the luxury to gather ourselves, and for you to settle your mind. Put some clothes on, I have a surprise for you.”

A few minutes later, with one boot on, she hopped into the front room while donning the other to find James by the door with a large metal case in hand. Aurora flashed an impish smile as they went down the steps to the grass.

Behind the cabin, rolling tree-covered hills went as far as she could see in all directions. A hint of a dirt path made its way off to the south, and the air came alive with the sound of birds. She followed him for the better part of twenty minutes into the forest. He commented on the relaxing atmosphere, trying to keep her mind away from everything that had happened in the city. Dense trees foiled the worst attempts of the breeze to frost her bones, and its gentle hiss through the leaves soothed her.

“I missed you this morning when I woke up.”

James massaged the back her hand with his thumb. “Sorry, Anna. It came up out of the blue. I was making arrangements for some of the younger victims of the Crown’s tyranny to leave the country.”

Moved by the thought of broken families, Anna squeezed his arm. “James, it’s so good of you to help those people. It isn’t right how they’re treated.”

He paused in mid stride, turning to face her. “It was not right how you were treated, Anna. I’ll always be here for you.”

A spasm twitched in her forearm, two inches south of her wrist. “I know that now.”

“I hope to help them even more… One day, I will find a way to unlock their true potential. It may not be Earth, but I will find a home for us.”

Their stroll came to a halt at the edge of a modest lake. He nodded toward a decaying wooden pier and the prow of a small rowboat protruding from the water like a shark’s fin. She leaned against him to take in the view, smiling at the tranquility.

“Boat ride is not quite an option. Bloody thing sank fifty years ago. However…”

After setting the case down, he unpacked a large tartan cloth, which he flicked out over the grass. Motorized trays lifted up from inside, sliding out into shelves laden with hors d’oeuvres, a bottle of wine, two glasses, and some small sandwiches.

“A picnic? Really?” She giggled.

Grinning, she flopped next to him as the case projected a holographic arrangement of candles in the center of the blanket. A whimsical smile accompanied a lifted eyebrow as he offered her a glass of wine. She overacted high-society for a few minutes until it was no longer funny, doing a spot-on impression of Princess Daphne.

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