Chapter Twenty-Three
Consciousness seeped in. Every muscle ached. A hum droned in her ears and vibrated under the soles of her feet. Beth pried her swollen, sticky eyelids open and blinked in the blinding light.
She tried to rub her face, but her arms were locked at her sides. She couldn’t move her head, either. Panic flared in her chest. What had happened? Where was she? The blank metallic wall gave little clue. In her peripheral vision, she detected part of an arch. A doorway…to what?
The last she remembered, she’d been at…Luna Center.
The Summit.
Details seeped through a crack in her memory block, widening the crevice until the barrier shattered, and the horrifying acts she’d committed poured out.
I killed Carter. No. Oh no. No…no…no. I killed Carter.
Why? Why? Why? Agony fired through her, worse than any photon blast. She’d watched from inside herself as she vaulted over the cordon, attacked the Aym-Sec guard, shot another then fired at Mikala when she tried to get away. Switching the blaster to the highest setting, she’d murdered a cyber operative, and in a final denouement, killed Carter.
She’d forced Benson to take her to his shuttle. They’d boarded, and then…searing pain had stabbed into her head, and she’d blacked out. After her collapse, Benson must have run for help. Had she been arrested? Was she in a brig?
She could move her eyes, but not her head. Within her field of vision, all she saw were light-gray metallic walls with no markings. The hum she heard, felt in her feet, was the thrum of a ship’s engine.
So…a spaceship. A prison vessel, perhaps? There would be other prisoners, wouldn’t there? Maybe she was in solitary.
After what I did, I deserve it. More tears of misery poured from her eyes, and her nose ran. I’m so sorry, so sorry…
She realized now she was sitting on a chair. The hardness of the construction pressed into her spine, her thighs, her bottom. Her calves were stuck to the chair legs. She tried again to move her limbs, move anything, but couldn’t. Did she have a voice? “Help me! Anybody? Is there anybody there?” Hoarse, but she could speak. She strained, trying to rock from side to side—
“It will do you no good to fight the restraints.” Benson appeared in front of her. She hadn’t heard him come in.
The charm, the geniality, the concern had vanished, turning handsome features sharp, almost cruel. His eyes were colder than the dark side of the moon as he scrutinized her. She swallowed. He hates me. I can’t blame him.
She lifted her gaze to his face again. “Carter…Carter…is he…”
His chest swelled as he took a breath. “Dead,” he said.
Confirmation of her worst fear hit her like a punch to the throat, and she choked. She had hoped her recollection was faulty, that she hadn’t committed the acts she remembered.
“Mikala—President Aaron—is she okay?”
“For the time being.”
“Am I on a prison ship?”
“You’re on my ship.”
“You’re taking me to Terra?” He must intend to turn her over to the authorities.
“No.
“Where, then?”
He folded his arms and stared down his Romanesque nose. She expected disgust and dislike, but the glint in his eyes sent fear clawing up her spine. He looked…triumphant.
He circled behind her, where she couldn’t see him, and the hairs on her nape stood up in alarm. She was the dangerous one, wasn’t she? What did she have to fear of Benson? But, all of a sudden, she did. He wasn’t acting like himself.
Neither am I. We both snapped. She’d done things, said things without any control over her actions. What if I snap again?
She couldn’t turn her head. All she could do was squeeze her hands into tight fists. When Morhain had put the electrocuffs on her at the hotel, it hadn’t been anything like this. Benson must fear I’m a threat. How could she blame him? Who could predict what she’d do next? Even she couldn’t guess. I killed Carter, and the other cyborg. Her throat thickened with fresh tears.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like to move?” He appeared in front of her and tapped a few strokes into his wrist comm.
Her body was still immobilized, but she could turn her head.
“To answer your question, I’m taking you to Katnia, where I’ll send you to the planet’s surface.”
When his meaning sank in, the blood drained from her face. Spots danced before her eyes. “The KaTȇ will kill me.” She’d never heard of the panther-like aliens until Aym-Sec—Cy-Ops—had hired her, she’d read the threat reports, and shot a robotic version on the firing range.
“No reflection on how you performed, you understand. You exceeded expectations,” he said, like he was praising a trained pet. “However, you’re of no further use to me since no one will trust you now. I can’t let you loose—thousands of people saw us together, so this is the best way to dispose of you. Since travel to Katnia is banned, no one will search there, and if they do, there will be little left of your remains to provide any clues.”
Had he gone insane? What had happened to him? To her?
“All they’ll know is you abducted President Aaron and myself. You stunned me with your blaster, and when I regained consciousness, you and the president were gone.” He lifted a shoulder. “That’s what I’ll tell them. When Lamani notifies the AOP that he has taken Mikala Aaron hostage, I’ll be in the perfect position to lead negotiations and grant his demands. With Mikala Aaron out of the picture and Carter Aymes dead, no one will be able stop it.”
The worst kind of cold seeped into her bones. “You’re working for Lamani?”
He leaned in so close his breath touched her face, and she would have recoiled if not for the restraints. “No, you stupid woman.” She flinched as saliva flecks splattered her. “I am Lamani.”
As if the ship’s hull melted away, the air was sucked from the room. “You’re Benson Vincere…you’re Terran.” No heavy ridges outlined his temples and forehead. He had the symmetrical features of a classically handsome Caucasian Terran male—although there was nothing attractive about him now.
Benson ran a finger over his temples. “Facial cosmetic surgery made me look human. They did a good job, don’t you agree?”
Beth gaped.
His expression turned sour. “I’m stuck with this face until I can change back, but this hideous countenance enabled me to infiltrate the AOP.” He stepped back and raised his arms. “Ickto omi Lamani, Hoorat ahno Okanta uya Yagnoni.” The words she didn’t understand, but she recognized the language as Odgidian. She’d familiarized herself with Benson’s bio. He spoke six languages, but Odgidian wasn’t one of them. “I am Lamani, the Prophet and the Incarnate of the Great One,” he said in Terran English.
If her legs hadn’t been immobilized, her knees would have knocked together. Had his mind snapped? Once she would have doubted such an extreme personality change could occur, but she’d proven anything was possible. Was he delusional—or was he Lamani?
Everyone had assumed the terrorist leader had gone into hiding to avoid capture. No one—not even his sons—had seen him in over a decade—about the same time Benson had assumed leadership of the AOP. Had Benson/Lamani orchestrated the acts of terror while undermining the AOP’s attempt to stop it?
Combatting terrorism when it attacked from the outside was hard enough, but when it was inside, what hope was there?
Other than Cyber Operations. And Carter was dead.
No, there was still a chance. The organization wasn’t dependent on him. He’d founded it, guided it, and designed it to function without him. Cy-Ops would try to hunt her down to bring her to justice and rescue Mikala and Benson.
Would they get to her in time? If she died, they would never know Benson might be Lamani. I have to stop him.
“They’ll come for me,” she said. “I’m probably on the Galaxy’s Most Wanted List. I kidnapped the president of Terra United and the secretary general of the AOP. Everyone will be searching for them, and they’ll find you.”
Lamani/Benson laughed. “When I’m ready, I’ll let them ‘rescue’ me. By then, you and the president will be dead, and I’ll resume my position as secretary general of the Association of Planets.”
He swept out of the room.