Mindlink (5 page)

“Are you questioning me, High Priest
UBA
?” The king sprang to his feet, his stocky frame much more
threatening than when he’d been sitting. The queen flinched but said nothing. “I
have the latitude to determine what is best for my citizens and what is best for
the Telhada. At this time, recycling does not serve our purpose.
ZXQ
-
One
will proceed.”

UBA
narrowed his gaze, directing
his hostility toward
One
alone though he spoke to
the king. “Allow me to interrogate the Mora Tuwa.
ZXQ
-
One
has no training, nor can he be
impartial. If nothing else, rescan the subjects. A skilled technician can
harvest information about this potential plot much more quickly.”

One’s
chance for redemption slid
away and he scrambled to keep his grasp on it. “Your Majesty, please award me
this opportunity to serve you. High Priest
UBA’s
suggestion is sound, however, his talents are needed elsewhere.”

UBA’s
glare sizzled through the air
and
One
steeled his muscles against the sudden
compulsion to step backward. He would not cower before the High Priest’s odd and
unusual hostility. They were both citizens, pledged to the service of the
Telhada, despite
UBA’s
higher rank.

The king ruled them equally.

“The failure of the list must be punished,”
UBA
insisted. “Do not show mercy in this for it will
be misinterpreted as weakness.”

“Very well.” The king flicked a noncommittal hand. “The panel
in the Acquisitions building malfunctioned. Whoever is directly responsible for
the apparatus will be recycled in
ZXQ
-
One’s
place.” He then motioned toward the Security
worker who had escorted
One
to the king’s chambers.
“Ensure it is done.”

One
’s chest contracted.
Four
would be sacrificed over a mechanical failure
lasting less than ten minutes. The arbitrary nature of the sentence made little
sense. He struggled to feel thankful and couldn’t. “That is unacceptable. I wish
to rescind. I will not allow someone else to be recycled in my place as
punishment for my failure.”

The king’s mouth twisted cruelly. “Your allegiance is to me
only. Not to your staff and certainly not to yourself.”

This premise comprised the bonds of the Telhada, and he’d made
a monumental mistake in not honoring it.

“Recycle them both,” the king ordered and the queen’s chin
jerked toward him. Swiftly, she composed her shocked expression. “
UBA
, determine the nature and extent of the Mora
Tuwa’s deception. As tonight is the Festival of the Ancestors, you may wait
until the morning to begin. Nothing may eclipse the importance of honoring those
who have passed into the afterlife.”

One
couldn’t breathe. He’d gone
from an assured promotion to a death sentence, and condemned one of his
subordinates as well, all in the span of an hour. UBA’s influence bore greater
weight than he’d imagined. An unsuspecting Acquisitions worker would soon be
sentenced to recycling for no apparent reason. His team trusted him, followed
him, and he’d failed
Four
just as he’d failed the
king.

He deserved punishment. But death?

He’d lived and breathed Acquisitions for four long years only
to have all his hard-won success ripped from his fingers. The bitter taste in
his mouth was unfamiliar and unwelcome. Since he had no choice, he bowed to the
king and tried to unearth the dignity in his sentence.

* * *

Ashley was convinced the aliens had blinded her.
Permanently.

They herded her forward. She stumbled through the dark, hands
flung out, feeling her way through impossibly long hallways. Terror raced along
her nerves and circled back again endlessly. Her eyes were open, but sightless.
She couldn’t see anything. Not shapes, not faint light, nothing. How was she
supposed to know where to go if she couldn’t see?

A faint whispering sound threatened to drive her mad. It echoed
through her head, shushing just above the absolute silence mark, reminding her
something foreign was lodged in her brain. Blindness had heightened her other
senses to almost superhero strength.

The raw flesh of her fingers stung as she dragged them along
the corridor’s sides—probably leaving bloody trails—but the wall kept her
centered and off the ground.

The aliens still hadn’t spoken.

She had no idea where they were taking her and with each step,
her heart stuttered in irregular beats. The pattern throbbed in her throat,
almost painfully, but every beat said
you’re
alive
. She was pathetically grateful for that.

Cold permeated every inch of her body, to the bone, seeping in
through the pads of her feet, streaming into her blood to seek out the last bit
of warmth and crush it.

For now, the octopus in her head lay dormant, but she knew the
thing lurked, waiting to rage to life again, to hurl her to her knees with
stabbing agony. If she ever got home—when she got home—how could it be removed?
Did that technology exist on Earth?

The aliens jerked her to a stop and something beeped, then they
prodded her forward. More beeps behind her. She tripped over something on the
floor.

It squealed.

She flung her hands out to keep from falling. It didn’t work.
She went down hard on one knee, followed by a glancing blow to her hip. Her
palms slammed to the floor and one thumb bent backward, shooting white-hot
ripples up her arm.

Hands grabbed at her and she fought them off with clumsy
swings. She wasn’t trapped on a freezing table this time.

“Stop.” The scratchy feminine voice was blessedly human. “I’m
trying to help you sit up.”

“Who’s there?” Ashley stopped struggling and shrank backward,
sniffling uncontrollably. Something recognizable wafted through the air and she
got a nose full of it. Cheap perfume.

“It’s me. Natalie. The blindness is temporary. Here, sit back
against the wall.” A shifting sound and then gentle hands on her bare skin
guided her backward.

Natalie helped her slide butt-first until she sensed something
solid against her back. She started to lean against it, but the cold surface
branded her flesh. Sucking in a surprised breath, Ashley shot forward and
whacked her chin on a raised knee. The same one she’d hit on the floor.

She swore. A lot. And colorfully. Now her jaw hurt, the knee
throbbed like someone had smashed it with a Louisville slugger and her hip
ached. The aliens hadn’t offered her so much as a mouthful of water.

They simply couldn’t treat Ashley V this way.

“I’m sorry,” Natalie said. “The first hour or so is really
rough.”

Ashley groaned. The
first
hour?
“How long have you been here? And where is here?”

More shifting, skin against skin. Natalie had crossed her legs
or something. Her razor-sharp hearing did no good as compensation for blindness
when she had no idea how to interpret the sounds.

“It’s some kind of holding area. They stuck me in here right
after they implanted this terrible...thing in my head.”

“The octopus?” Ashley offered grimly. “It had, like, arms that
slithered all around inside my brain.”

“Oh, they did it to you too? I figured it was some sort of
punishment for not being on the list. The special booby prize just for me.”
Natalie’s half laugh ended in a cough.

“They must do it to everyone.” Ashley dropped her pounding head
into her hands as she remembered the complex machine images that had magically
appeared while the probe had been against her forehead. She jolted
automatically, almost retching at the thought.

The other woman took her hand and squeezed. Natalie’s dry skin
chafed against hers but human contact was human contact and Ashley clung to
it.

“Do you mind if I ask what happened to your accent?” Natalie
asked, as if she should still cling to some sort of etiquette.

Ashley almost laughed. Except nothing about this was funny. “I
dropped it. No point in maintaining my character, is there?”

“You aren’t a scientist.” Natalie’s voice carried a tinge of
satisfaction. “I knew I recognized you and without the wig, it’s pretty obvious.
You’re Ashley V. Aren’t you?”

Ashley nodded and was sorry. Her head pounded like someone was
beating on it with drumsticks. “You have a good eye.”

“Why did you come to the alien planet? Did you pay twenty
million dollars, like that businessman who went to the International Space
Station on a Russian rocket?”

Oh, she’d paid all right. More than she could stomach, but
everything and everyone had a price. “It’s a long and boring story. And
irrelevant now. Can we get out of here? Are they guarding us?”

Thank goodness for Natalie. Being in the dark wasn’t nearly so
bad with someone else to hold her hand.

“There’s an opening but I think there must be some sort of
invisible force field or something to keep us inside. The closer I get to it,
the more my head hurts. We’re against the back wall right now, as far away as
possible.”

Maniacal laughter bubbled up before Ashley could stop it.
“Wait. Is the room small? Bare? No windows?”

“Have you been here before or something?”

Natalie didn’t have to affirm what Ashley already knew.

Only Ashley V could travel millions of light-years to end up in
jail.

They were never going to get home. It was as simple as that.
She’d never see her mom again. Never hold a new script in her hand, never hit
her mark on a new set for the first time. She’d never see her manager. Her
beautiful house in Beverly Hills.

Tears coursed down her cheeks.

David Renner might have given her the role in
Vertigo
Society
without all the alien promo. If not, then
another role would have come along. She was Ashley V. That counted for
something. Didn’t it?

Natalie let her cry and rubbed her arm. “You know, I dyed my
hair Very Berry V a couple years ago. I’d been dumped—again—and wanted a drastic
change. You know? Then I couldn’t find the color on the shelf anymore and
decided it was a sign, so I let it grow out. I never in a million years dreamed
I’d end up side by side with the person who inspired both the color and the
name.”

Snuffling, she debated whether to tell Natalie Clairol had
dumped the contract after Ashley’s first arrest. Boy, her manager had reamed her
endlessly over that.

“My color is real,” she said instead.

Real. She needed something real to cling to, or she wouldn’t
have a prayer of getting through this nightmare. She was Ashley V, beloved by
masses of people or at least she had been several years ago in back-to-back
blockbusters
Girls
of
Summer
and
Girls
of
Summer
2
. That was real and no one could take it away, not
even aliens.

They lapsed into silence.

All at once, the veil of black turned grayish and faint lines
appeared. Blinking, she jerked her head from side to side, trying to focus on
something, anything. Blotches faded in and out and her head started pounding
again.

“Natalie?”

Shifting. “Sorry, I drifted off. What’s up?”

“I’m glad you’re here.” She really was, too. The scope of her
existence had shrunk down to where small things were a big deal and she was
grateful to have someone here who’d been through it, who knew she was Ashley V
and not a scientist. “They didn’t leave any blankets or clothes or anything, did
they?”

Natalie cleared her throat. “’Fraid not. I wouldn’t have been
sitting here freezing my tail off otherwise.”

Mousy features swam across her field of vision, along with a
fuzzy background of white. Lines sharpened, and if she held her hand up, she
could make out the webbing of veins beneath her skin. But her hearing still
seemed to be heightened so maybe she’d get to keep her superhero senses after
her eyesight came back.

“Hey, this really is a bare room. Where are we supposed
to...you know?” Ashley stood and almost pitched to the ground as dizziness
rushed up to slap her.

“You know” climbed into the back seat on her list of problems
as she sank into a crouch. Her stomach cramped with hunger and she couldn’t
remember the last time she’d wet her parched mouth. No one had bothered to
mention how long they’d been knocked out on the spaceship, let alone how long
she’d been in the probe room or how long she’d been unconscious.

“I’ve been...um...holding it,” Natalie admitted. “I’m pretty
sure it’s going to get nasty in here soon. When they brought you, it was the
first signs of life I’d seen, so I’m not expecting a bathroom escort.”

Reality sank in. Aliens held them hostage, the rest of their
companions were missing and they faced slow starvation in inhumane conditions.
Nobody here cared if she was a prize-winning scientist or a world-famous movie
star. She and Natalie were exactly the same to them. Prisoners.

Voices rang out from the hall. Alien voices.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. The aliens were coming back.
For her. To invade her head again. To make her remember things. Shameful things,
humiliating things, things she’d tried to forget, to erase. She cowered against
the wall, mindlessly seeking invisibility.

Two guards stopped in front of their cell. A moan spurted out
through her cracked lips. Two more appeared, but none of them paid any attention
to her and Natalie. They were half dragging, half herding another prisoner.

One of the aliens keyed on his white handheld contraption and
the four of them shoved the guy into the opposite cell. Since the guards weren’t
interested in her, Ashley swallowed away the spurt of terror and craned her neck
to see through the guard’s legs. Natalie pressed up against her, eyes trained on
the drama.