Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)
Connie Suttle
Chapter 1
Ilya
"You wanted to see me?" I asked. I stood before Colonel Hunter's desk after James ushered me inside and closed the door, leaving us alone.
"I did. Sit down," he gestured with a hand. "Want coffee?"
"No, thank you."
"At least sit down."
"Of course." I took the offered chair and attempted to make myself comfortable.
"We think we have a sighting—in Vancouver." Colonel Hunter released a sigh before shaking his head. "I wanted it to be a fake, but the photograph appears to be genuine."
"Let me see," I said, leaning forward to take the offered tablet. If this were a drug survivor, he had successfully stayed hidden for more than a year.
That's how long it had been since the attack at the White House. Forcefully shoving that memory away, I studied the grainy photograph on the tablet.
"This looks very much like," I began.
"Those lizard f*ckers who hit us at the White House," Colonel Hunter agreed. "Matt's seen it—he thinks the same. If this image is real, we don't need those scaly bastards showing up here a second time."
"At least we understand better what the scaled woman was early on—the one who attempted to take me and—well."
"I know. It's poetic justice, I suppose, that some of the drug survivors would be of that race."
"You want me to track this one?"
"I want you to go to Vancouver and see what you can find—if anything. The address of the man who took that photograph will be sent to you when you arrive. He's agreed to an interview. Find out what you can and get back with me. The President wants us to be discreet."
"Of course. When do I leave?"
"Tomorrow morning. Take that tablet—it's all on there. Do you need funds?"
"No."
"Let me know if that changes."
"I will."
*
Reth Alliance Founder's Chambers
Ildevar Wyyld, Founder
"Deonus, they went without my permission, which brands them rogues," Geethe Cheriss, Prime Potentate of Lyristolys, whined. At least he appeared humanoid instead of changing to the scaly alter ego of his kind.
Lyristolyi were related to Sirenali in some way, but Lyristolyi didn't possess the ability to place obsession. If they fought or wanted to appear aggressive, they wore their scales. For everything else, they were humanoid.
"While I'd like very much to believe that, I have my doubts," I snapped at Geethe's excuse. "This was too well-coordinated and too many of your trackers were involved, I think. You know the rules—if any non-Alliance world has a government, or in this case, many governments, they must be approached by an envoy from the Reth Alliance. This was not done."
"I understand the rules, Deonus Wyyld. I stand by my statement—these were rogues. Punish them, not Lyristolys."
"Except we can't find them—those who survived, that is," I thundered. "Your rogues killed nineteen world leaders and hundreds of others, sending that planet into near-chaos. I want those rogues caught and delivered to the ASD for prosecution."
"Yes, Deonus." Geethe bowed as low as he could without toppling over.
"Leave my sight. I want updates every eight-day on your search for these rogues."
"Yes, Deonus."
Geethe scurried backward, never taking his eyes off Ildevar's boots, until he was through the wide door and away from the Founder's Chamber. Ildevar heard running after that.
"Did you light a fire beneath that pretentious ass?" Norian Keef, Director of the Alliance Security Detail, asked quietly as he turned away from a nearby window. He'd heard the entire conversation with Geethe—who'd likely fled to get away from Norian as much as to escape Ildevar.
"He'll never openly admit that he sent that army of trackers to Earth," Ildevar snorted. "He's lucky he's still alive to lie and place blame. My question is this—did they get all the drug and its survivors, there? You know a survivor is just as dangerous as that infernal powder ever was—they can infect others with the same type of blood, after all."
"I know." Norian shook his head. "Want me to send someone?"
"I'd appreciate it," Ildevar replied. "Perhaps more than one. Make sure they speak at least one of the languages where they're dropped, too."
"I know the routine, Deonus," Norian jerked his head. "I'll see who I have to send."
*
Corinne
More than a year has passed on Earth. That meant nothing to me where I was. Actually, it meant nothing to me when I was.
I was four hundred years in the future, still waiting for a decision to come from the Larentii Council.
To show how little they thought of my talent and power, they left me to wander wherever I wanted, although I was expected to spend my nights at the Larentii Archives. The Archives had become my home, once I'd arrived on the Larentii homeworld.
The Archives had been uninhabited most of that time, so I'd wandered through them, reading, listening, watching, studying—any form of learning or information was stored in the Archives, including a history of Earth.