Hathor Legacy: Outcast (6 page)

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Authors: Deborah A Bailey

BOOK: Hathor Legacy: Outcast
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Mr. Renard's eyes grew wide. "A Guardian!  What has ha
ppened?"

"Where is he?"

"He's--he's on level 30 suite Alpha." Renard replied, his voice shaking so much he barely got the words out. "Is he in danger? At the Emerald Club we ensure the safety of all our guests and--"

"Call city security now!" Nadira yelled, rushing to the lift.

Inside, Lorena's image appeared on the wall next to the door. "Welcome to the Emerald Club. Where would you like to go?"

"Level 30 right away!"

The doors closed and the lift headed up. It was so quiet that for a moment Nadira wasn't sure it was moving. But a moment later she heard a soft female voice in the background.

"3…4…5…6…"

Lorena was still smiling. At least she didn't have bright green eyes like the man downstairs. Lorena's were a subdued golden brown. 

"You'll find the city has a great deal of entertainment. Would you like to know more?"  L
orena asked.

"12…13…14…15"

"Not right now." Nadira closed eyes. Nothing materialized. Why couldn't she see what was happening in the suite? She paced as each level ticked by. Why was the lift moving so slowly?

"20…21…22…23"

"Can't this go any faster?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. The safety of our guests is most important to us, and we can't--"

"Okay, Lorena. I get it."

At level 30 Nadira jumped out as soon as the door opened. In front of her, a sign indicated that suite Alpha was to her left. She broke into a run, her feet pounding the stone floor. A gold-toned door stood at the end of the corridor.

She touched the fingerpad. Nothing. It must be locked. More noises from inside: the hum of a weapon discharge and glass shattering. 

By now her heart was slamming in her chest. Pings of energy flooded her body. She had to get in there now. Summoning all her strength, Nadira pressed her palms against the door and directed her force into it.

Within seconds the door went from gold to bright white, then blue. Her energy burned through it. White-hot sparks flew up, pinging against the walls as the door disintegrated,  then blew apart.

Almost pushed off her feet by the force of the blast, Nadira caught herself before she fell. I
nside the suite, one guard was on his knees, the other had an arm around Jon's neck. They'd stopped in mid-action, staring at her through the smoldering remains.

Jonathan recovered quickly and got out from under his attacker. He took the man's arm and twisted it behind him. Still on his knees, the other guard glared at her as he reached for his weapon. He staggered to his feet and aimed it at her.

As he raised his hand, Jon released the man he'd been struggling with. He  launched himself forward and knocked the guard to the ground. He and the armed man struggled, each fighting for control. The weapon discharged. A bright golden blast of heat burned into the couch.

Nadira turned her attention to the guard that Jon had pushed away. The man reached under his uniform jacket.  She directed a blast of energy towards him. Clutching his chest, he screamed, then fell to his knees.

Careful to shield herself from the energy rebound, she sent out another blast. He fell down on the floor, still trembling. Then he groaned and passed out, his mouth open.

Another weapon discharge filled the air with sparks, the whine setting her teeth on edge. Jon
athan fell to the floor. A large, dark patch on his sleeve was hissing and smoking. The guard stood over him, pointing his weapon at Jon's chest.

Nadira flung a short blast of energy towards the attacker. He screamed, his arms out flung. His weapon flew up in the air and crashed through a glass table across the room. In her haste she ha
dn't shielded herself and the rebound of the guard's energy hit her like a punch in the stomach. Breathless, she fell to her knees.

The man landed across Jonathan's legs in a heap. She crawled over and pushed at him with her fingertips. In reaction, he moaned before he rolled over on his side and vomited. Nadira struggled to pull Jonathan away from him.

She dropped down and pulled Jon across her lap. His breath was shallow and ragged, his eyes unfocused. The hole in his sleeve was still smoking and she could smell burning flesh.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled back his jacket and lifted up his shirt. The blast had seared a circle of skin below his left shoulder, leaving it burned and oozing.

Jonathan opened his eyes wide, studying her face. Then without a word he went limp, his head rolling over to the side. 

"Jonathan!" She cradled his body, burying her face against him. Let him be all right.

She'd been charged with protecting him. And she'd failed.

 

 

 

9
Taken In

Hours later Nadira was sprawled across her couch. Her clothes were in a crumpled heap on the floor. After arriving, she'd been too tired to put them away properly.

Replaying the events at the hotel in her mind, she still couldn't believe she was capable of such destruction. The knowledge was both exciting and frightening. Through all of her development and training with Zina, the depth of her abilities had never been revealed.

Nadira heard a noise from her bedroom. Sitting up was agony. Lifting herself up on ru
bbery legs, she waited for the room to stop spinning. It could be hours or days before she regained her full strength. Until then, it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.

Jonathan was in her bed, the covers up to his waist. The medi-evac team had managed to a
pply regenerating skin to the burns on his arm and chest. Other than the itching he'd have to endure while the new skin grafted onto his own, he was going to be fine. His clothes were the only real casualty. What hadn't been torn in the struggle had been ripped away by the medics.

"What…what happened? He swallowed. "I feel like I've been hit by a tran
sport."

Nadira sat on the edge of the bed.  "You were hit with a blast from a stunner. It uses energy to incapacitate, like using an electr
ical current. They use larger versions in the mines."

Struggling to sit up, he shifted himself against the pillows. "They're used for mining Crysa
llis."

"You've been inside the mines?"

He nodded. "With my father."

Jon slowly lifted the covers and examined himself. "Where are my clothes?" he asked.

"The medics removed them. Don't worry, you were covered when they brought you here."

"Where's 'here?'"

Nadira paused a moment before answering. Mr. Renard at the Emerald Club had suggested taking him to another suite. She hadn't trusted it. Instead she had the medics bring him to a place where no one would be looking for him. 

"You're at my apartment. I thought it would be safer," she r
eplied.

Were those men real security guards?" he asked.

"I doubt it. They've been taken to detention to be questioned. Don't think about it right now. I'll let you get back to sleep."

"Nadira?"

"Yes?"

"Don't leave yet," he whispered, reaching out to her.

As a Guardian she was always supposed to stay detached. But following procedure had never been her strong suit--something else she'd inherited from her mother, Minona.

Nadira sighed and clasped his hand, letting his fingers inte
rtwine with her own. She felt a gentle tug and she eased herself down next to him.

"You can get under the covers you know."

"This is fine. Get some rest."

She remained there and watched him as he fell asleep. Not long after, she gave  in to exhau
stion and drifted off.

 

*****

 

When Jonathan woke up the room was dark. For a moment he thought he was back home in his own bed. No, this wasn't his bedroom. He was on Hathor. Now he remembered. He'd been hit by a stunner blast. And Nadira had brought him here.

During the fight he'd held up his arm to shield himself from the blast. Running his hand over the wound he felt--what the hell? A strip of rough, knitted fabric was attached to his skin. How did this get on him? Whatever the thing was, he had to get it off. Ah, there it was. He caught an edge of the fabric between his thumb and i
ndex finger and pulled.

"Damn!" he roared.

"Lights up 70%," Nadira called out.

"What is this thing? It hurts like hell."

"It's regenerating skin. Stop picking at it."

He held out his arm for her inspection, wincing as she exa
mined the graft.

"The medics said it'll be completely attached in a couple of days. What about your chest?"

"My chest?"

Nadira leaned across him. With a light touch she probed the small, yellow patch below his co
llarbone. Though he couldn't feel anything through the fake skin,  the proximity of her body next to his was enough to take his mind off the pain.

She was wearing a tank top. Her full, golden brown breasts were straining against the creamy knitted fabric, presenting him with a very tantalizing view of her cleavage.

"So, how does it look?" Unable to resist, he glided his hands over her back. Keeping his gaze fixed on her, he lifted himself up, opening his lips in anticipation of meeting hers and--

"That's enough of that, Mr. Keel." With a wry smile, she eased herself out of his grasp and scooted back to the other side of the bed.  

"Trust me, there can never be enough of that." He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'd better get cleaned up."

"Let me get you something to put on."

Nadira eased off the bed and padded over to a set of shelves in a corner of the room. There was little more than a strip of lace covering her bottom, which was just fine because it gave him a very delicious view of her firm hips.

Searching through the rows of neatly folded clothing, she pulled out a light grey shirt.

"That won't fit me," he said.

"I know. It's for me." She smiled as she slipped it on and s
ecured the front.

Damn. She was the most exasperating woman he'd ever met.

Returning with pants and a t-shirt, she held them out. "I know this isn't what you're used to. You can wear these until we get your things from the hotel," she said.

A quick glance at them and he could tell they were the same grey, knitted u
nderalls that miners wore under their work gear. Stretchy enough to fit a variety of body types, they could also be scratchy as hell.

"Thanks." He pulled back the covers and swung his legs out. Stretching, he came to his feet. The stone floor was cold. Maybe his boots were around here someplace. 

"I'll give you some privacy." Nadira took a step back and banged against the wall, missing the doorway by several centimeters

"It's not like we're strangers," he said, amused at her efforts to keep eye contact with him. "B
esides, you saw everything when they brought me in last night. Didn't you?"

Her eyes darted to a lower part of his anatomy, then back up again. "I wasn't looking."

"I'm sure you were." He grinned as he grabbed the pants and shook them out.

Rolling her eyes, she left the room. A moment later he heard footsteps, fo
llowed by a crash.

"Are you all right?" he asked. 

"I forgot I left my clothes on the floor. I'm fine!" she snapped.

Chuckling to himself, he pulled on the pants and cinched the drawstring. Did these belong to a regular companion of hers, or someone she was contracted with? Did Guardians go into co
ntracted relationships?

Based on the lack of personal effects in her bedroom, he didn't see any evidence of a par
tner. Other than the bed, table and built-in shelves, there wasn't much else in the room. It looked barely lived in.

When he entered the living area, the sun was shining brightly through a row of large windows. From the looks of things outside, they were in a residential district. Across the street was a large stone building with windows like Nadira's.

Transports rumbled by, though there weren't as many as he'd seen on the main boulevards. 

The small but comfortable living area opened up into a dining space with a counter and two seats. Nadira was sitting on one of the stools, her legs dangling.

"I don't have a lot on hand for breakfast, so if you want something more, I'll order it," she said.

"No problem."

Though it was neat and clean, the apartment showed signs of wear. Instead of shiny silver, the countertop was dull and scratched. Even the cooker looked like it'd seen better days.

"Shower's over there." She motioned to a half-open pocket door to her right.

He slid the door back and looked inside. It was a long, narrow space lined with grey and white marble walls and a shower enclosure at the end. Next to the shower sat the sink and toilet, crammed next to each other like an afterthought.

Utilitarian design at its best: clean, efficient and exceptionally boring.  Maybe this apartment building had originally been d
esigned to house miners.  It wasn't the type of place he expected a Guardian to live in.

"Looks cozy. I guess you don't share it with anyone," he said

"No."

"No family?"

Her face stiffened. "Not anymore."

"Oh. Sorry." What was her story? He wanted to ask, but the scowl on her face made him think better of it.

"You can take your shower now," she said. 

"Sure you don't want to go first?"

"I'll wait. I have something to do." Stone-faced, she folded her arms across her chest.

"Okay." For some reason she was annoyed with him. No doubt it wouldn't be the last time.

 

*****

 

While Jon was in the shower, Nadira picked up her tablet and settled herself on the couch. The attack had to be involved with the theft from the mine. If she could look at the mine security r
eport, it might give her a clue about who sent the men. Nadira tapped the screen with her stylus.

The clear glass displayed her location and the temperature. 25 degrees Celsius was typical this time of year in the climate-controlled environs of Nova City.

After 45 minutes of searching through the Demeter mine records, she couldn't find any mention of the robbery.  Instead of a detailed report on the incident, she found endless records about the number of crystals mined, personnel hired and even orders of food and machinery. But not one mention of the theft.

There had to be a mistake. She aborted the search and co
ntacted Brant. He answered her right away, which was unusual since he normally kept her waiting.

"Nadira," he said, his jowly face filling the screen. "I was i
nformed of the incident at the Emerald Club last night. Were you harmed?"

"No, Sentry Leader, I was not. I have a question--"

"An armed attack on a citizen--a CEO's son no less--in the Palatine district is unthinkable. The attackers will be severely punished."

Impatient to ask her question, she interrupted him. "I've been investigating the robbery on D
emeter. The security reports about the incident no longer exist. Do you know why?" she asked.

There was silence for a moment. Brant cleared his throat before responding.  "Why are you searching? You already know as much as you need to."

As much as she needed to? Was he serious? "It's my responsibility to know. How can I do my job if I don't have all the facts?"

"Have you located Ilana Travac?"

"Where's the report?" she asked, her hands gripping the sides of the tablet. "You haven't answered my question, Sentry Leader."

Brant shifted in his chair. "Those records have been locked, Nadira."

"Guardians have access to all security records, or have you forgotten?" She didn't  care if she insulted him. "You have no right to restrict me from seeing that report."

"I have every right. Your only responsibility is to follow o
rders," he barked.

Nadira gritted her teeth, willing herself not to respond to his dismissive tone. If she gripped her tablet any harder, it might break in two.

"I am a Sentry--a real one." She let that sink in before she continued, "I have a job to do. Give me access to the information."

By now Brant's putty-colored face was flushed with red. His cheeks puffed and his bushy brows were lifted up like two half-moons. She hadn't planned to use the information Zina had given her about his title of "Sentry Leader" being purely honorary. But she'd had about enough of his attitude. Jonathan could've been killed last night. She wasn't in the mood for bureaucratic no
nsense.

"How dare you! I am the leader here, not you. I will give the orders!"

"Jonathan Keel was attacked and his father is missing. Don't you think there's a connection?"

Brant opened his mouth as if to reply, then he froze. She heard talking in the background, but couldn't make what was being said.

"Demeter Mine Security Chief Catherine Mantee requested that we refrain from further investigations into the whereabouts of Brandon Keel."

"Why? He's still missing, isn't he?"

"Chief Mantee informed us that remains were found last night in the mine. It has not been confirmed, but CEO Keel should be presumed dead."

Nadira gasped. Jon's father was dead? He was so sure his father left Demeter  before the e
xplosion. "If the remains were found last night, why hasn't it been confirmed yet?"

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