Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(42)
"No. Invus feared for his life, therefore the recording was made. It was a justified recording, as you now know."
"What do you want to do about this?" I asked. I didn't keep the weariness from my voice.
"I wish to send an elite team to destroy," he began.
"No," I held up a hand. "You will go yourself, and take one or two others with you that I deem trustworthy. I expect a full investigation and not a trail of revenge, you understand?"
"Yes, Deonus." His half bow was performed out of habit and not respect.
"I wish to be kept informed," I called after him as he walked away.
*
"Caches of nuclear weapons are located here and here," Fisk informed his team, pointing to two mountain ranges in the Middle East. Even Morrett, the mute Sirenali, craned his neck to see the map on the table. He backed away quickly at Fisk's angry head jerk.
Morrett knew the planet was marked for destruction; Fisk merely had to find a way to do it that looked as if it were done by the inhabitants instead of a hidden Lyristolyi drug tracking team.
He wished he could warn someone, but he couldn't. With no voice and no mundane way to communicate, he couldn't inform the population of Fisk's plans.
Twice before, he'd witnessed the destruction of planets at the hands of Fisk's team. It sickened him. You didn't kill all for the sins of a few.
"Here," Fisk tossed a comp-vid in Morrett's direction. "Go read something and stay out of our way."
Morrett caught the comp-vid neatly and turned away.
Reading. It was his only escape. It made him wish he could read Earth's languages—perhaps he could read some of their paper books. There were still plenty of those. He'd found many during his travels across the planet with Fisk. Fisk refused to allow him to take any, although he had one hidden in his clothing.
It contained mostly pictures, hand-drawn and whimsical. With the images, the story almost told itself.
Morrett already loved the book.
With a sigh, he opened the internal library on the comp-vid and searched for a title he hadn't read, yet.
*
Corinne
Bekzi transported us to Canada—he offered and I felt too shaky to do it. A part of me wanted to see Rafe. Another part was terrified to see him.
Val waited for me in our bedroom, his arms going around me quickly. I buried my head against his shoulder while he hummed his soothing song.
It is called trilling, dearest, he said as he tucked hair behind my ear. Come, lie down with me—you are still shaking.
*
Personal Record
Lendill Schaff
"Child," my father, Kaldill Schaff, said. He seldom contacted me by mundane methods. His face appeared on my comp-vid the moment I sat up after waking.
"Father," I acknowledged, my voice stiff.
"Here." A cup of tea appeared on my bedside table. Mentally, I cursed the fact that I was half-humanoid and born without any of the gifts my father and brothers had in abundance.
It didn't help that my father was also King of the Elves—it only widened the gap between us and left me open for the insults my brothers often leveled in my direction.
"Thank you," I gritted. One should never show ingratitude toward my father. He was generous and never pointed out my flaws—at least in my presence.
"Drink—it will make what I'm about to say go down easier," he said.
I drank. The tea was hot but not too hot, just as my father commanded. I emptied half the cup before he spoke again.
Patience—it was a virtue with my father. My humanoid side dictated that I have very little of that precious commodity. "What is it, Father?" I muttered.
"Ah—Norian Keef will come to you shortly, to ask you to accompany him to the planet known as Earth. He wishes to avenge the deaths of four wayward agents. You will go with him, but you will advise caution. In all things, do not anger the Larentii."
"What the hell do the Larentii have to do with this?" I demanded.
"You will see," he said and ended the communication.
The moment the comp-vid screen went dark, it lit again. Norian was calling. I cursed softly before accepting the transmission.
*
Ilya
I expected Finch to start growling, his frown was so intense. It was obvious he didn't appreciate my presence—or Sergei's. If I thought it wouldn't start a fight, I'd ask him what the problem was.
I hadn't even seen Corinne—she'd been taken straight to the suite she shared with Valegar. Instead, I attempted to run interference between Sergei, Finch and myself. If he wanted a fight, however, I didn't intend to hold back.
Captain Walker's eyes also followed Finch wherever he went, but he watched Dr. Farrell just as intently.
Farrell's actions appeared strange to me, too, and I was at a loss to explain it. The normally calm doctor was short-tempered and restless. His eyes followed Lieutenant Troutman, much like a drowning man might follow water.
Jennifer, on the other hand, appeared uncomfortable under his gaze. Whenever Farrell came too close, she automatically moved toward Captain Walker. It didn't take much to determine why, I think. There were the beginnings of a relationship, not fully realized, and she looked to Captain Walker for protection—at least in her unconscious mind.
It made me wish for Corinne's presence so we could discuss these problems, but she was absent. I worried that she was now too afraid to be near me. Depression threatened again at the thought but I fought it down, determined not to fall into that chasm again.