Deviation (17 page)

Kate was silent after that, watching with numb familiarity as the Lothogy docked onto one of the space elevators peppering the Martian Orbit and began to slowly descend. It was like riding a really slow airplane, she thought. Land mass took more shape the further down they went, revealing a gaping, expansive canyon that was shadowed and deep. One mountain in particular caught her attention, spiking high into the skyline, defiantly orange at its peak amidst the violet plant life that crawled up its slopes.

Mount Olympus, she thought. Reesa had said she loved the fact that she could put the mountain into her books. The Novo Femina Temple was built on its eastern face, a white beacon of marble and steel, meant to inspire hope in the hearts of every Genetically Altered woman alive. It wasn't until the Lothogy had detached from the elevator and made its approach on the Temple that Kate truly understood her friend's description. There was something spectacular in the spiky, white structure, something that felt like a deep breath of air. As defiant as the peak of the mountain it stood on, Kate thought.

Some sort of void took over her thoughts, drowning her consciousness in a kind of gray mist that she couldn't shake herself from. The Lothogy unhooked from the space elevator and flew directly for the Temple, swooping in low with a stomach-dropping move that Myron seemed all too proud of. Landing gear deployed, the ship settled down inside the courtyard of the Temple.

She obeyed orders as they were given to her, walking just in front of Jellison, who had become her personal guard. She was led out of the cockpit and to the back of the ship, to what she imagined was the gang plank. The hull hummed to life, one section of the wall tilting downward, opening until it met with the ground below. It wasn't until she had stepped off the metal of the Lothogy and onto the creamy textured landing pad that she managed to grasp her reality.

She was standing on Mars.

And Mars smelled like honeysuckle. The purple flora and deep violet shades surrounding the landing pad were hard enough to digest, but having the whole planet smell like honeysuckle just made her laugh. Kate knew the scent had something to do with the mutated plant life around her but beyond that information she was blissfully ignorant.

Her good humor dampened a bit when she caught sight of the fortified perimeter. Tall, electrified fences stretched between guard towers, looking not a little like a prison. She counted five towers just within view, each of them with a pair of gun-toting, soldier-like persons on guard. Only their attention wasn't on the landing pad or anything inside the perimeter.

An ominous feeling knotted in her chest.

The plant life wasn't the only thing that had mutated on Mars. Scientists had managed to Terra-form the planet, but the gravity or the dynamics of the soil itself, or a combination, had made it necessary to genetically alter animals that were brought over from Earth. At one point there had been a debate, she knew, where the Scientists had to defend the decision to create predatory animals on the planet. It seemed silly to genetically alter a beast that was known to be violent, but they had stated that every ecosystem had its predators. Without them, the planet could not sustain itself.

Staring at the forty-foot tall perimeter fence, Kate battled her fear into submission. Whatever mutated creatures were outside of that wall couldn't get past the Field Arcs.

Outright badasses, that's what Reesa called them. Weapon-toting, knife-wielding, all out soldiers, whose main function was to protect civilians from the creatures the Scientists had made.

Jellison grabbed her shoulder and turned her toward the main building. It stood out from the violet plant life like some Grecian Temple, curved and elegant, as though the architecture itself had been a construction of penance, glorifying some god of ancient times. Kate had trouble concentrating on the exits and the like. She knew she needed to pay attention, had to locate possible escape routes and such, but the detailed archways and wide spans of rose glass were overwhelming. The strange hue of heather-tinted light seemed to swirl across the marble surfaces of the walls, turning a milky sort of blue and making the artwork more prominent.

Knot-work patterns framed most of the rounded pillars that lined the hallways, but curving through the pattern in seamless and masterful strokes a face would appear. All feminine, Kate noticed that straight off. Each face she spotted was serene, tranquil, eyes cast down in an obvious display of submission.

Without thinking, she edged closer to Myron. The pilot looked at her and glanced ahead at where Hedric kept the lead. The scar on his upper lip went white with strain as he tightened his mouth in something akin to disapproval. The mannerism was so much like Ben that she felt the briefest spurt of comfort.

Ben, she thought.

Her fist curled and she set her discomfort aside. By the time they reached the main hall she had counted seven possible exits, each of them marked with flowing, burgundy-colored drapes. She calculated the hindrance of her robes should it come to a fight - and with Jellison in her peripheral view, she knew there would be a fight at some point. The weighty fabric almost tangled around her legs as she walked, so she'd have to lift them before she ran.

Underneath she wore the form-fitting space suit that Hedric had insisted was necessary to her safety. She was almost glad for the robes on that account. The men kept looking at her as it was and the only rebellious act she portrayed at present was that her hood was down. She couldn't imagine what they would do if they saw the skin hugging white thing underneath.

"Hedric," a polite voice said from the front of the room.

"Eanmar," Hedric responded. "Bring my mother."

The figure at the front of the room turned toward her and paused.

Kate considered herself a polite person. Her mother taught her to be mindful of other people's feelings and the basics of courtesy, but when Eanmar turned to face her Kate couldn't stop the flinch. She defied anyone not to flinch at such a sight. The bubbled up, disproportionate twist on the left side of the woman's face was more than horrific; it was downright painful to look at.

"Of course," Eanmar gave them a small curtsy and drifted toward the northwest corner of the room.

Kate watched her go. She had an inexplicable and sudden agitation against Reesa. Why the hell had Reesa written such horrible things? Sure, the books sold well but it just didn't seem right, subjugating and disfiguring them in such a way. For a fraction of a moment, Kate was almost pleased that Hedric had left her friend on Oahu.

And then Hedric moved into her view and she had to remind herself that it was fiction. All of it was fiction.

The people. The walls. The honeysuckle smell.

Quinn was reality.

Kate closed her eyes, summoning his face to her memory.

He loved penguins. Every time they went to the zoo, he would spend nearly half an hour just watching the penguins. She saw him again and felt a desperate comfort. But it was strained this time and a disjointed part of herself told her she was losing her mind.

***

The wide, open archways of the Temple tinged purplish-pink in the morning light. The temple itself was a contradiction of marble and metal, casting the main hall into a chaotic display of colors. Dark streamers rolled with a westward breeze, their sateen shine adding to the brilliance of the room, appearing like the pour of claret against the white-washed pillars that led to the raised dais at the end of the hall. Hedric's mind stumbled when he saw her there, standing on the lowest step of the dais, peering up at the great Phoenix engraved on the northern-most wall.

For a moment he thought it really was Mesa, his mind altering the drab robes she wore into the jade gown she'd flaunted at their wedding. She was turned so that her left arm was out of view but his image was complete anyway. Mesa had always worn something to cover the cold, robotic arm and it was no different here. The bright gown was made of a soft, sheer material that made an elegant sort of drape over the offending appendage. He hadn't paid attention to more than the sound of her laugh and glimmer of her eyes at the time, but now every detail lay bare before him.

She'd been frightened of him. He could see that now. Throughout the four hour long procession she had stolen small glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She'd kept that arm as far away from him as possible; fussing with the sleeve every now and then to make sure the bulk of the metal was hidden from view. Something rent through his chest at the memory and halted his progression through the hall.

Eight years of marriage and he couldn't remember ever having discussed her deformity. Aside from the practical, of course. The arm had proven advantageous in more than one situation, but they had never mentioned it in private. A part of him wondered if his silence on the matter had only confirmed her fears.

She had to have known that the arm had never bothered him. It wouldn't have mattered to him if her face had been twisted. He'd known from the moment she had kicked him in the shin and called him a "caviling pettifogger" at their first meeting that he would love her. There was a force and grit to her that would have cowed a normal man. But Hedric was not a normal man. Three months of negotiation with her family, settling wedding arrangements, agreeing her humble dowry and constantly bickering with the woman could not deter him. He was not the sort who liked to be comfortable. She fit a need for him, granting companionship and challenge all in one bundle.

She turned and the flesh of her left hand made the haunting vanish. Kate, not Mesa, and Hedric had to fight back emotion.

Just looking at Kate was like losing Mesa all over again.

And then his mother entered the hall and Hedric lost his control. He'd meant to play things cool, to try and worm more information from his mother, but with the loss of Mesa scouring against him again he gave up all pretenses.

"You sent me after a novelist!" Hedric threw the cursed book at his mother's feet. The acoustics of the temple amplified the sound with a satisfying slap that felt synonymous with his growing fury.

"I sent you after a prophet," Celeocia responded, her gaze fastened on Kate.

"I risked my ship, my crew, my life for this!" Hedric pointed at Kate. "A sobby little woman who will never be Mesa!"

"Sobby?" Kate clearly took offense but he ignored her.

"Tell me you have something planned here, mother. Tell me I didn't just waste my time."

Celeocia glanced at him. "You have most certainly not wasted your time. You are looking at the greatest prophet ever to have lived. Reesa Zimms foretold everything we have been through. In detail."

"I'm not Reesa," Kate spoke again. "And I'm not 'sobby' either."

Despite her robotics, Celeocia managed a flicker of surprise. Hedric was gratified at the emotion. For all that he did love his mother; the way she had played on his emotions was unforgivable. Mourning for Mesa had morphed into outright fury; fury against Reesa, fury against Borden, fury against his manipulative mother, and fury against Kate. Kate who looked so much like Mesa that it hurt to even look at her.

"You are not Caresse Zimmerman?" Celeocia asked.

Hedric spotted the twitch of his mother's hand and smiled with dark satisfaction. "No, mother. This is Kate."

"Where is Caresse Zimmerman?"

"Fighting her own demons."

"Where?" His mother snapped.

"Oahu," Kate answered.

Celeocia's face went from angry to horrified in one blink and Hedric smiled some more. Screw you, he thought as his mother's robotics took over again. And then, because thinking the words paled in comparison to what he really wanted to do with his mother and all her damned Novo Femina, he said it out loud.

"Fuck you," he articulated both words with real heat. "To hell with your Nova Femina. Fuck the Makeem." He turned to face Kate, "And fuck your cursed face."

"Fuck you back, asshole," Kate responded with just as much heat. "I want to go home to my son."

He gripped the weapon in his holster, not really clear on what he intended to do with it, when his mother slapped him. Hard; so hard his face turned with the impact, heated sting puffing the skin on his right cheek almost immediately. A renewed surge of murderous anger swelled in his chest but he fought it down. He didn't know why. There was a reason somewhere for why he didn't just kill them both and walk away, he just couldn't identify it at present.

With slow, deliberate care, he released his weapon.

"You will go to Earth and collect Caresse Zimmerman.," Celeocia glared at him.

"Get her yourself," Hedric turned and stalked to the double doors. His boots made angry snaps on the marbled floor as he went, echoing into the chamber.

Myron stood aside as he passed, frowning over at where Kate and his mother stood watching. The pilot lowered his voice as he moved to follow, "We can't leave Kate here."

"The hell we can't."

"Captain," Myron kept up with his hurried pace. "We brought that girl here. She's our responsibility."

"Not anymore she isn't."

"I don't think this is registering for you," Myron said as they veered toward the landing pad where the Lothogy stood. "We stole that woman from her home. Someone's mother, Hedric. Someone's wife. We have the coordinates still and we can get her home."

"I'm not putting my ship at risk for that twit," Hedric growled at him.

"It's not her fault that she's not Mesa." Myron's voice rose as well, stopping Hedric mid-stride.

Hedric took a long, careful breath and tried to settle himself. Damnit if the man wasn't right. Myron watched him, which annoyed Hedric a bit, but he ignored it. Myron was his closest friend after all. Inasmuch as Hedric had friends.

And he was right.

It wasn't Kate's fault that she wasn't Mesa.

None of this mess was Kate's fault.

She'd just looked so much like Mesa that he'd gone unhinged. A bitter part of him realized that he still was unhinged; cracked in the core from pain and loss with nothing left to fill the gaping hole.