Mindlink (33 page)

Sam pressed his case. “Why did you procure special permission
to skip third-meal?”
One
clearly preferred not to
answer, but Sam had an educated guess. “You are working late to compensate for
the failure of the list, are you not? My failure. What do you imagine will
happen if you do not succeed where I failed?”

“I have no illusions about my future,”
One
said, his voice even. Proud. “I will be successful or be
recycled. I have no choice.”

Sam locked gazes with
One
and
refused to let him look away. “You will die. Recycling is a nonthreatening term
used to mask the Telhada’s brutality. Are you prepared to die for what you
already know you cannot accomplish?”

An eyelid twitch and a slight slump of
One’s
spine indicated the question had penetrated the Telhada
brainwashing—but deeply enough?

He couldn’t risk stopping there. “What if I offer you a
choice?” With a half step, Sam drew close enough to place a comforting hand on
One’s
shoulder. “You must wonder how I am still
alive. Why I risk my life to save these humans. Why I would willingly link with
one. The answers are complicated but illuminating. I will explain everything if
you allow me to send these women back to Earth. Once they are safe, I promise I
will not let you die.”

One
glanced at Natalie and Ashley.
To Sam, he said, “Your disloyalty to the Telhada is unfortunate.” The
pronouncement echoed in the still receiving bay. Then he raised his handheld,
finger poised to signal Security.

“The Telhada’s disloyalty to citizens is reprehensible,” Sam
snapped. “Do not mistake blind obedience for conscious allegiance. You and I are
not so different. Consider the years we worked alongside each other. You know my
character. Do you suppose I lightly ask you to betray everything you have been
taught? I am aware of how you balk against it. But still I ask for you to
decide. Trust the Telhada who would snuff your life in a moment with no regret.
Or trust me, your former mentor and superior, who has consistently demonstrated
concern for your welfare. Which will you choose?”

He hesitated and Sam stopped breathing. Ashley’s thoughts
twined with his, determining the odds of wrestling the handheld away before
One
triggered the alarm.

One
nodded. With a jerky extension
of his arm, he gave Sam the handheld. “It is all I can do.”

Sam’s lungs inflated. “It is enough. Thank you.”

“I will say nothing.”
One
backed
away. “Leave Kir Barsha once you have launched the spacebarge and do not return.
My fate is sealed but yours is not.”

With that, his former subordinate pivoted and disappeared into
the hall.

* * *

Sam was upset. Ashley tried to ignore it but his black
mood cast a pall over her own, like a splinter too deep to dig out but
impossible to forget. She was about to leave forever and he seemed determined to
spend their last minutes together brooding about his old employee.

All in all, the situation was better than they could have hoped
for. The residents’ diversion had thus far kept Security’s attention off the
second set of intruders and they’d made it here without any problems. The worker
guy had given Sam access to the spaceship and wasn’t going to rat them out. She
regretted he didn’t want Sam’s help, but he couldn’t save everyone.

From the seat Sam had flipped out for her and Natalie, she
watched him tapping on the magic wand. The spaceship activated all at once, with
lights traveling around its English muffin-shaped body. A series of tones beeped
from the underbelly, echoing in the eerily silent hanger. More tapping from Sam
and then more beeps. Rushing, like when an airplane gathered itself up before
taking off, filled the chamber.

Surely someone would hear that. She braced for Security to dash
in and lock down the spaceship with a self-destruct code, set to explode after a
countdown timer reached zero. But the pyramid stayed empty except for the three
of them, as sterile and unwelcoming as it had been the first time.

Fanciful—and wishful—thinking. If Security showed up, she would
be forced to stay on Alhedis, with no choice to be made. Sam by default.

He deserved better than that, better than Ashley V. He deserved
someone who didn’t dream of an Oscar, Louboutins and spa days. Someone who could
appreciate his bottomless hazel eyes. The way he always watched over her, like
she was made of glass, and touched her reverently, as if he valued her more than
gold. Surely a nice girl in Kir Dashamun would like that. Her lip curled as she
imagined him linking with this girl, leaning into it with that shudder-inducing
whisper kiss. They’d laugh and make love and he’d call her his sun, which meant
he was happy.

Her stomach seized and only a heavy swallow kept her from
throwing up.

Why should she care if he hooked up with someone else? He
shouldn’t be alone just because he’d had the misfortune to fall in love with a
mess who hadn’t earned her redemption yet. Hopefully, he’d forget about her and
go on with his life.

The gangplank lowered with a
thud
and echoed through the chamber. Her pulse thumped. Almost time. Thank God the
Namur had designed the ship to put the passengers to sleep. She’d never feel the
link with Sam severing as the ship hurtled out of the clouds.

It would be a clean break.

Thank
God
. She repeated it, but it didn’t stop the tears
from gathering. From sliding down her cheeks and between her lips.

“It is time.” Sam’s mouth pressed into a thin line, his
thoughts blank, as if the link had already broken. It would be like this from
now on.

He had no room in his life for her—a person he’d never be with
under normal circumstances, never link with and certainly never fall in love
with. He had a social order to disrupt. Lots of people to liberate.

Natalie snapped her fingers in Ashley’s face. “You coming?” she
asked over the rushing sounds of the ship echoing around the pyramid. “Do you
want a minute to say goodbye to Sam?”

“Yeah, I do.” It was forever. She wiped her face with a sleeve.
“You go ahead.”

She slid off the uncomfortable seat, hands trembling. She
clenched them behind her back. Fat lot of good that would do. “Guess this is it.
You gonna put that tappy thing down and give me a proper send-off?”

“What is the definition of proper?” His voice cracked and she
stared up at him, totally at a loss for words as his eyes grew wet. He blinked
it away, and his expression hardened.

“You know what I mean. No, not that,” she amended as images
flew at her of them twined together so tightly, it was hard to tell who was who.
“Though it would be nice.”

He dropped the tappy thing into his pocket and pulled her into
a stiff hug. “Nice,” he said into her hair. “Is not the word I would
choose.”

He hadn’t been this remote since they’d first met and it scared
her. She tried to wrestle through all the spaceship stuff in his head to see
what he really felt, but he kept her shut out. Exactly what she deserved for
always doing it to him. “Okay, it’s cool. You’re ready for me to go. I get it.
I’m being all weepy and stuff and you just want to do your launch sequence so
you can go trounce our buddy Ramlah and make sure all the residents are safe.
Yeah, I see it through the link. Thanks for the memories, chief.” She saluted
and whirled before she broke down.

Above her, the bay doors slid apart, revealing the dismal gray
skies blanketing Kir Barsha.

Metallic thumps rang out as she tromped up the gangplank. She
was so tired she could hardly lift her legs. Sam filled her head and it killed
off pieces of her bit by bit to know he’d be gone forever in moments. But she
had taken step one—get on board. Step two was as easy as going to sleep. Piece
of cake. She could sleep for a million miles, and before arrival, erase all
traces of him without doing a thing.

Natalie stood at the top of the gangplank, waiting for her,
hands folded.

“Well, I lost that bet,” she said with a frown. “Glad it was
with myself and not for anything worthwhile.”

“What bet?”

“That you would actually leave. I was sure you’d change your
mind and decide to stay.”

“I have to go home. Everything I want is there. Why would I
stay?” This planet allowed no hiding places, no chance to slip behind the
protective wall of someone else. Ashley V didn’t exist here. Sam had stripped
her to the core.

“Are you kidding?” Natalie snorted. “If anyone looked at me
like Sam looks at you, you couldn’t pry me away.”

“Well, I’m not you, am I?” she retorted. This was difficult
enough without snide remarks. “He has stars in his eyes and the link makes it
better. Worse, I mean. He only thinks I’m special because he’s never known
anyone like me. He’ll get over it.”

“Oh, I see.” Natalie crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “And of
all the people who have known someone like you, how many of them thought you
were special?”

Her knees buckled. “That doesn’t matter.” Her voice sounded
faint, like background music in a pivotal scene, about to fade away. This trip
hadn’t been about finding the perfect relationship. Or the perfect man.

Natalie gave her a smile and selected a tube for the journey,
as instructed by the ship’s system. “You guys are like yin and yang, finishing
each other’s sentences, and staring at each other all googly-eyed. I’m so
jealous it makes my teeth numb.”

“Is there a point to this?” she asked and blinked blearily at
the tubes. She had to pick one but couldn’t make her brain function, let alone
get her legs to carry her into the ship.

Natalie sniffed. “What you had with Sam doesn’t come along
every day, even with two planets of guys to pick from. Are you sure going home
is worth it?”

Ashley heaved a sigh but her lungs couldn’t quite get a full
breath. “I’m going home because I have to. I’m not thrilled to be leaving. I
love Sam.”

Saying it out loud—and to Natalie—made it real. Her lips
trembled and she swallowed against the eight ball in her throat. Oh, God.

She was in love with him. Sam’s devastation coursed through her
and she cursed. Why couldn’t she have said it to him before it was too late?
Because she was a coward, that’s why. Admitting her feelings also meant
acknowledging the sheer sacrifice required to leave him behind.

Reasons. She had reasons for going home. What were they? She
had to make Natalie understand. “I have to resurrect my career and show the
world I can be a serious actress. That I’ve learned my lesson. I know now I
caused a lot of my own problems and I have to put it behind me. I want to see my
mom, apologize to her.”

With a shrug, Natalie said, “Yeah, okay. Then, you know, what
if it doesn’t work out? It’s not like you can hop a flight home. You’re being
smart about it. Who needs men anyway? They’re all selfish jerks who can’t figure
out what really makes women tick. I’d be happy with finding one who has a steady
job and gives me flowers occasionally.” Natalie waved it off with a flick of her
hand. “Eh. Maybe I’ll become a nun.”

Ashley touched the half-dried bloom in her pocket Sam had given
her at the ruins. Natalie didn’t understand. Sam wasn’t like that at all.

The ship rumbled as Sam started the engines. The gangplank
vibrated under her feet.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?”
Natalie asked.

“Cry.” Once she traveled a universe away from Sam, and he
wasn’t forced to share her anguish, she’d indulge. “Then I’m calling my manager
to get rolling on my Oscar-contending movie.”

A new role. Yeah. Exactly the thing to stave off the depression
threatening to knock her down. She could disappear into someone else’s psyche
and take a vacation from her own.

But...the mess inside was gone. The cleansing under the tarp
with Sam had blown away the dirt and shame. Being stripped to the core took on a
new light. She knew who she was and exactly what she wanted.

Maybe she’d go back to using her full last name again. Ashley
Vassler could be a serious actress. Respected. Award-winning. After all, she
could do
The
Three
Little
Pigs
like nobody’s business.

A sob bubbled up and she choked it back. The kids would forget
about her in time, just like Sam would. They’d all go on and find new
entertainments. She’d be back where she belonged in her Beverly Hills home,
filming
Vertigo
Society
and doing...other stuff to fill her
days.

“That sounds great,” Natalie said. “I can’t wait to see
it.”

Ashley had forgotten what they’d been talking about. “Come to
L.A. You can be my date to the premier.”

It wasn’t like she’d be dating anyone else, that was for sure.
She pressed a palm to her forehead where he remained for a precious few moments,
but the contact was a poor substitute for the flesh and blood of the man she
loved.

The ship’s system beeped and trilled as Sam ticked through his
launch checklist. The rushing noise grew deafening and the ship began to shake.
It was about to be over.

Sam tossed out an image of stalking on board and throwing her
in a tube if she didn’t pick one. With a whir, the gangplank started to rise
into launch position, pitching her to her knees.

The link broke.

The force of it snapped her head back. She lost her balance and
hit the gangplank. Stars burst across her vision. Sam was gone. The link was
gone. Amputated.

A raw scream ripped from her throat.

Sam had to be dead. What else could sever the link like that?
Panic paralyzed her legs.

Sam couldn’t be dead. Unconscious, maybe. Like he’d been
knocked out. But by what? Had he been discovered? All the air gushed from her
lungs.