Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(22)

Val and Cori could have gotten in without my help, but it was always wise to go through channels whenever possible. "Yes, they have permission to question the prisoner," I informed the Warden.

He nodded without questioning—I was grateful. I'd included myself in the visitation; I wished to hear first-hand what, if anything, Cori and Val might discover. Rafe—if he were left alone with our prisoner—might employ problematic methods to obtain information.

I wasn't willing to allow that to be recorded by prison cameras. Under normal circumstances, I would discourage such actions. Perhaps Cori and Val's concern had ramped up my own. They'd suggested that more Lyristolyi (yes, I'd had to ask how to spell it) had been here, perhaps all along, and we were only now learning of it. After the debacle at the meeting and the deaths of too many world leaders, I shuddered to think what more of the same creatures might do.

To add to that worry, I'd learned that they could appear human. That meant they could blend into the population and we'd have an impossible task before us—of identifying and capturing them. Especially if they'd captured a cloned Sirenali.

It made me wish for simpler days, when everyone imagined clear-cut foes from outer space—or at least one foe at a time. Soon, I wanted to speak privately with Cori and Val, just to ask them about all the aliens that could be on our world and what their ultimate goals might be.

The Warden stopped outside the holding cell and motioned for the door to be unlocked. In this case, rather than having him brought to us, we'd come to him.

*

Corinne

He sat in a corner, rather than on his bed, on cold concrete.

The temperature of the floor is forty-seven degrees Fahrenheit, Val informed me. Much too cold for any normal human to withstand for long unless forced.

"His internal body temperature is ninety-three degrees—and dropping," I informed Auggie. The man sitting in the corner blinked and focused on me immediately. "Something is worrying him," I added.

"I surmise it is the temperature-sensitive explosive planted in his abdomen, which the weapon detectors failed to locate," Val said. "Once activated remotely, I imagine it will detonate to destroy the victim and everything surrounding him, once it reaches his core temperature of ninety-eight-point-six Fahrenheit."

"What the f*ck?" Auggie cursed.

"Do not fear—you are fortunate that Larentii are with you," Val said while holding out his hands.

The prisoner almost collapsed upon himself when Val reduced the explosive inside him to harmless sparks, which then flew from his startled, O-shaped mouth.

"I'll bet he weighs a lot less, now," I quipped.

*

"The explosive was not created by humans," Val explained later. "My hypothesis is that it was imported from elsewhere—built by those with less than lawful leanings."

"Do you think he'll talk, once the doctors are finished looking at him?" Auggie pointed his question at me.

"He doesn't know much," I said. "He was lured in with the promise of big money if he made Rafe dead. They grabbed him, drugged him and planted the explosive, telling him that if things went wrong, he'd go boom," I said. "Things obviously went wrong. At least he was smart enough to lower his body temp after those who booby-trapped him found out."

"Can he describe his captors?" Rafe asked.

"He doesn't have to," I said. "I saw all that in him. He was commanded by a Mary clone and the real Merle Askins."

"Why didn't you see this before? When you arrived in Vancouver?" Rafe asked.

"That's a great question," I turned to Rafe. "Where are the bodies of the others who died—besides good old Merle?"

"If there was Sirenali interference at the moment, it may have obstructed her abilities to see such things," Val observed.

"Then how did she know to help me?" Rafe demanded.

"I knew you were in danger," I blurted. I almost said it was because he was mated to a Larentii, but I didn't. Still, it was a close thing. "I only recognized Merle, because, well," I hung my head.

"What she hasn't admitted is that she tagged Mr. Askins before," Val said, his voice dry and humor shining in his eyes. "So she would recognize him in the future, no matter what he looked like or what obsession was placed upon him."

I had tagged him—in his office when I'd accosted him there. I wanted to make sure I'd know the * the next time—if there were a next time. It was a trick devised by Karathians, not by Larentii. My current race would consider it interference and didn't do it as a rule.

It had helped me greatly in this instance, however. Merle was tagged—his clones wouldn't be.

"I'll hear this story later," Auggie held up a hand. "I'll call to see if we can take a look at bodies—they're at a CIA-run facility."

"Fitting," Rafe gritted, "That Askins would end up there without anyone the wiser."

*

In death, bodies are so empty. Without the life force that filled them, they are merely a shell. I studied Merle Askins—the fine, dark scales covering his face and hands—larger scales covering his limbs and torso. All I could see in him now was the fog of obsession.

"He probably saw himself as a monster after surviving the drug," Val said. He, Auggie and Rafe stood beside me as we studied the remains on the table.