Chapter Thirteen
Seated in a hard, cold, metal chair at the front of the room, Lana felt isolated. The space was crowded with onlookers, curiosity gawkers with nothing else to do. They had a right to be here; meetings and grievance hearings were open to the public unless something dictated otherwise. She’d never attended one before and was being forced to now because the grievance under consideration had been issued against her.
She had a good defense. The access roads around the mine weren’t clearly marked. And when she’d come to a dead end, with nothing to tell her she couldn’t, she’d gotten out of her borrowed-vehicle for a look around. No more than ten minutes later, as she stood on a rise overlooking the nearby lake which she’d have given her eyeteeth to study and test thoroughly, security had spotted her.
And with her bad luck, it wasn’t the contract kind, hired by the mine operator who she had a chance of sweet-talking her way around, but the Primarian kind who didn’t tolerate females being where they weren’t supposed to be.
She’d been taken back to town promptly and stuck in a little room for hours. From there, her warrior escort—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy, for lack of a better name since he hadn’t offered his—had brought her to face the music.
Despite the fifty people who put it well past the point of capacity, she felt alone, while she waited.
A side door near the front of the room opened. Lana should have felt nervous, dread knotting her stomach as the council walked in single file. They would stand in judgment over her, which was the way things were on Terra Nova without a legal system in place yet. Yeah, she should have been shaking in her shoes, but she wasn’t.
Instead, she went numb with shock. Leading the team in and taking a seat in the center of the long table up front, as beautiful as the first day she met him, was Trask. Months had passed since she’d last seen him on the Denastrian ship. They’d argued, as usual, and then, in a startling turn, shared a kiss, deep, passionate, and after their long separation—a balm to her soul. When they’d broken it off and stared at one another in utter amazement, she’d tried to slow her pulse and catch her breath, exerting everything she had not to blurt out the declaration on the tip of her tongue. His eyes had searched her face as if reaching into her thoughts. As she watched, a change had come over him, a spark of renewed hope. It shone in him like a beacon guiding her home, but she had squelched the impulse to beg his forgiveness, confess her love, and ask him from her knees if she must, to take her home. Instead, she’d had to shut down, quickly, hiding behind a mask of indifference. If she didn’t, the endless months of longing and anguish would have been pointless because nothing had changed.
He didn’t know the sacrifice she’d made for him, and never would if she could help it.
“Council is in session,” the older man in the white robe called out, bringing her abruptly back into the room. “Silence is expected and will be enforced,” he announced further, before he took his seat at Trask’s right hand. She took in the elder with his long snowy beard. He looked vaguely familiar, but then all the elders did, resembling her mental image of Merlin the legendary wizard. Perhaps that was why.
Dismissing him, she shifted her gaze back to Trask. She knew he was here. Adria said he had a mission, but she hadn’t mention what. She should have known it would be a position wielding power and authority, both of which he excelled at beautifully.
“State your complaint, Miss Barker.” The room reverberated from those few words.
“Thank you, General.”
Lana twisted her head sharply to the right, surprised to see a woman standing at the end of the table. She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t seen or heard her walk up. More surprising, she knew her. Betsy Barker hadn’t changed much in appearance since their college days. Supermodel tall, with a willowy frame, she was beautiful, if she could only control the compulsion she had for dying her hair an unnatural shade of red. Flaming and gaudy, it hadn’t changed either. Nor had her man-hungry behavior, judging from the way she was eyeing Trask like he was a juicy T-bone steak and she hadn’t dined in a month.
“I want Lana Hartman removed from the colony,” she declared tersely to the panel.
A buzz immediately filled the room with this outrageous demand.
Lana jumped to her feet. “For driving down a public road to look at the lake?” she exclaimed. “You can’t be serious.”
Betsy aimed her narrowed, perfectly done-up eyes her way and smirked but said nothing else. She didn’t have to.
“Silence,” the older man bellowed. On his feet, the elder leveled an annoyed glare her way. “The accused will have her chance. Until then you will remain silent. Is that understood?” He sounded surprisingly like Trask when he was ordering her about. Lana nodded. “You will also remain seated. Do so now,” he clipped.
She sat back down, her eyes flicking to Trask, who was looking at Betsy, not her way, then to Beck seated next to him. Her employer gave her a subtle shake of his head, which she took to mean stop what she was doing, which wasn’t helping her cause. She dipped her chin, taking in her hands which she’d clenched into tight fists in her lap. She forced them open and tried to relax, but seeing them tremble, clasped them together. At least her subconscious mind knew a bit what it was doing.
“Miss Barker,” Trask said evenly, “since this is the only habitable town on the planet, it is not a reasonable or safe request to enforce.”
“Lock her up, then. She wasn’t on a Sunday sightseeing drive. She was interfering and is a menace to the hardworking professionals on my science team who volunteered to take on this project.”
Lana gasped.
Trask glanced at her briefly before responding. “There is no jail here.”
“On your world, perhaps?”
“We do not imprison trespassers on Primaria. Neither do we find it grounds to exile someone off-world.”
“Then I want her restricted, placed under house arrest, something to keep her from snooping around the mine. She has not been given clearance.”
“I’m fully aware I’m not on your team, Betsy. I received your rather terse rejection letter back on Earth, prior to leaving.” Lana used her nickname deliberately, one she knew the other woman hated, to wipe the smug look off her face. It worked. Betsy Barker sounded like a five-year-old in braids, not the sex kitten scientist she wanted to portray. But Lana had also seen the assessing look she gave Trask, and it really ticked her off.
“Then kindly explain what you were doing at the research site today? We have no need for painters in a uladite mine, trust me.” She said this in a snarky tone with a smug twist of her lips.
“Unfortunately, therein lies the problem. I don't.” She stood to address the panel. “More testing is needed, and the right ones. I’m a volcanologist, so let me explain what I saw today—”
“Another reason we don’t need your assistance. There are no active volcanoes on Terra Nova.” Her gaze shot to Trask. “As you know, General, I have a well-qualified full team. They come highly recommended because each one is considered the very best in their field. They are level-headed and not subject to fits of impulsivity and drama. For all her credentials on paper, Miss Hartman’s behavior today is precisely why she won’t ever work for me.”
“You know one another, I take it?” Trask concluded drily.
“We were in undergraduate school together,” Lana explained. “Trask, might I have a private word?”
“I object! Your personal history is well-known.” She turned and hissed from her side of the table. “What do you plan to do, Lana? Bat your eyelashes and pout at the general to get your way? Or better, shove your boobs in his face?” Her focus dipped to her chest, and she smirked. “That might have worked before, but it seems in that area, as well as so many others these days, you are sadly lacking.”
“You are the one lacking, Betsy. Finishing at the bottom of the class barely qualifies you to lead a group of kindergarteners in a discussion on rocks versus boulders. When it comes to a group of scientists we’re depending on to secure our future, you are grossly unqualified.”
“Bitch,” she bit back angrily.
A titter of shock and delight arose from the observers. They were getting a show today; Betsy always had a knack for drama, despite accusing Lana of the same.
“Ladies,” Beckett said loudly to be heard over the noise. “Some decorum, please,” he encouraged coolly, a frown marring his usually serene features.
The comments lowered in volume to whispers but didn’t stop, neither did Lana. She lowered the discourse by bringing Trask and her boobs into it, she saw no reason not to follow.
“Are you seriously still holding a grudge? Dear God, Betsy, how long has it been? Six years, or is it seven? I’ll remind you, it’s not my fault your boyfriend dumped you.”
“So he could ask you out!” she shot back accusingly.
Lana felt the council members’ eyes upon her. One pair seared into her like the stab of a red-hot poker. She ignored him, as best she could, as she defended herself.
“I didn’t encourage him. But it must be a bitter pill to have to work with a lover who jilted you. I can’t believe you chose him. Still harboring a crush for the one who got away? Does he still wear those awful wide collar, graphic pattern, nylon shirts and that foul-smelling cologne? Eau de Saturday Night Fever, I believe. Someone really should have broken the news to him that disco died several centuries ago.” The humans in the audience chuckled; Betsy did not.
Seeing her eyes narrow, Lana knew she’d hit her mark. While she didn’t know about the wardrobe choices, Gerard had mentioned at least twice around her that his girlfriend—Betsy, at the time—had selected his “signature scent.” He had the bad habit of dousing himself in it liberally, which was why the memory of it was so vivid. Once, it had been so overpowering, the professor couldn’t continue his lecture due to coughing and asked him to step outside. Poor oblivious Gerard hadn’t returned for the rest of the class.
She’d taken a risk, baiting her. Betsy had always been a worthy opponent, well, not where grades were concerned. In a public confrontation, she gave as good as she got. Behind-the-scenes manipulations were her strong suit, however, and Lana had learned never to underestimate her and to always watch her back.
“It must have stung,” she stated coolly, “when I was put in charge and couldn’t find room on the team for poor little you. In the interest of full disclosure, it wasn’t solely me who made the decision to nix you. It was a group decision, based on your questionable mental stability after coming home from your mission.” The hum of whispers grew in volume, which gave her a chance to mutter low so only Lana would hear. “Being taken as a captive cunt for alien cock can do that to a girl, so I hear.”
The barb bit hard and sank deep. She glanced reflexively to Trask, who was watching her thoughtfully.
The older man beside him had enough, however. “Spectators will remain silent,” he roared, his volume impressive for a man of his years. “You have to the count of three to comply or the session will be closed to observers.”
It only took one for silence to encompass the room.
“She works for me.” Beck had come to his feet to have his say. “I will recuse myself from judgment based on our association, but I can attest to the fact she has been an exemplary employee. I’m sure this was a simple misunderstanding.”
“There is no misunderstanding,” Betsy replied. “She wasn’t assigned to the team, resented the slight, and took it upon herself to butt in. This was deliberate. I want her banned from going anywhere near the site, the researchers, or our vehicles and equipment.”
“That we can do,” the elder on the council agreed. As did the other two humans on the panel which meant they didn’t need Beck or Trask's vote.
“Trask…”
“Silence,” he ordered in a cool, impersonal tone. “It has been decided. You are restricted from going anywhere near Miss Barker’s research team, their equipment, and the uladite site. Is that clear?”
She nodded. What else could she do? Reminded of all the times he’d set down rules for her in the past, he usually explained the reasoning behind his dictates and often made them more palatable with a gentle touch, or a kiss, sometimes the concession would be an afternoon spent in bed. Now, he was inflexible and dismissive, and she had to fight to contain a shiver from his indifference. He hadn’t treated her as coldly when she’d kneed him in the groin the first night in his tent.
“You won’t ever work for me, Hartman,” Betsy told her, not that she’d asked. “Which means you can forget about participating in any professional capacity on Terra Nova as long as I have a say, and thankfully, I do.” She turned on her booted heel and stormed off.
“Sheesh, and she called me a bitch,” Lana muttered at her retreating back, but she wasn’t as artful with under-the-breath insults because the room was quiet when she said it. Her nemesis’s laughter floated back to her cushioned by the collective gasp from the Primarians in the audience at her vulgarity.
“Council is dismissed,” Trask called as he stood. “Miss Hartman, a word in private.”
Sure, now he wants a word, after the fact—too little too late.
He walked to a door at the side of the room, opened it then waited for her, his arms crossed over his chest, the darkly foreboding look on his face squelching any thoughts she might have had about disobeying him.
Her gaze sliced to Beck’s, who gave her a small smile of reassurance. He knew some of her history with the general, but none of the intimate details. Lana swallowed and moved slowly in his direction, getting curious looks from the others as she passed.
She entered a small office and tried not to react when the door shut firmly behind her.
“What are you doing here, Lana?”
He didn’t sound angry, just curious, and with him this close, it took her a moment to answer. More handsome than she remembered, he had the same stunning eyes, full lips, and glossy black hair, but he'd shaved his beard to reveal a firm jaw, and a dimple she didn’t know he had. She longed to reach up and touch his beloved face, to glide her fingertips over the smooth skin, memorizing every plane, curve, and dip, or better yet, her lips.
But she couldn’t, and most likely, judging from his indifference, he wouldn’t want her to. His features reflected no emotion whatsoever, like during the hearing.
“I had no choice,” she replied flatly, though inside she was a mess. “Betsy lodged a complaint.”
“I meant here on Terra Nova. You were going home, to Earth, the last I heard from Eryn and Ram.”
She shrugged. “I got a job, so I stayed on.”
“Painting.” His skepticism was palpable in that one word.
“My friends are here in this sector. Earth had nothing to offer me.”
“What about your career or missing home. Those are two of the reasons you gave for leaving, correct?”
“I resigned from the Force and my career goals didn’t pan out. I accompanied Eryn and Cierra back with Ram because they are the closest thing I have to family.”
“A now you’re a painter, here on a colony, three days by space flight away from your friends who you consider your family.”
“I’ve seen Eryn twice, though she didn’t have the baby with her. Neither did Eva when she toured a month ago with Kerr. Still, it’s better to see them on occasion than never at all.”
“And this is the happiness you sought when you left me?”
The verbal blow cut sharply enough to bleed.
“It was my choice, Trask.”
“Again, with your choices.” Anger crept into his voice. “It seems to me your judgment isn’t very sound, pau—, Lana.”
Tears prickled behind her eyes when he almost slipped and called her by her pet name. She was glad he’d caught himself because she didn’t think she could have withstood it.
“Tell me why you were out at the site this morning. And don’t tell me to look at the lake, no one in the council room bought that poorly contrived tale.”
“I’ve heard talk, some of which made me curious, some of it concerned. I knew if I went through proper channels, which means Betsy, she would have none of it.”
“Therefore, you took it upon yourself to steal a vehicle—”
“Borrow,” she shot back.
“Not according to Kincaid.”
“He won’t press charges. He is a good friend.”
“Adria says you were in the clinic with your good friend.”
Her eyes shot to his at the tightness in his voice. “She isn't supposed to discuss what she sees at the clinic.”
“She didn’t. And wouldn’t when I insisted. I saw you leave. It was hard to miss such a large human carrying a female down the middle of the street.”
“That was his idea. I could walk.”
“You were ill?”
“No, I lost my balance and fell from a ladder.”
“And the sickness you felt in my presence before, do you feel it now?”
“No. That seems to have passed.”
“That is something at least.”
He turned to leave.
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm, jerking with a start when an electric current arced between them. With the cool mask over his features, she couldn’t tell if he felt it too. Likely not, after how badly she had treated him. “I need to tell someone about my concerns. Betsy won’t listen.”
“She has a team of sixteen scientists poking around out there already. A new mine is unstable, and there are radiation concerns. We can’t risk having everyone who is curious going out there for a peek.”
She bristled at his inference, whether intended or not, that, despite her education and experience, she was part of the collective everyone.
“No matter what you think of Elizabeth Barker personally, I see no reason to question her ability or that of her team, one you aren’t a part of. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find a way to accept that.”
He shifted as if they were done.
“Wait. You can make an exception.”
“For what reason?”
“They are missing something. I saw subtle signs of trouble brewing.”
This got his attention long enough for him to ask, “Like what?”
“Dying vegetation.” This was first on a long list.
“That has already been noted.”
“Have they tested the soil and water table temperatures?” she rushed to say then started rattling off more cardinal signs. “Or checked for sulfur? What about the pH levels of the nearby lake? If there is underground activity—”
“I’ve heard all this mentioned in meetings, Lana. They are experts, I assure you.” He moved once again for the door.
“But, Trask, you don’t have a volcanologist on the team. That is my specialty.”
“I am aware, but as Miss Barker noted during the session, there are no active volcanos on Terra Nova.”
“That you know of.” When he put his hand out to open the door, she grabbed hold of his arm, desperately trying to make her case. Touching him, even his sleeve made her skin tingle. “You said yourself the area is unstable.”
“It is unstable from the radiation required from the initial generation of uladite.”
“Still, you don’t have a comprehensive team without someone of my expertise.”
He angled his head down, his eyes snapping with fire. “These highly qualified men and women have been working on this project for months. They have become a cohesive team and work well with the eight Primarian scientists we have appointed. They are the best of the best.” He raised his hand palm out when she opened her mouth to argue the point. His movement displaced the hold she still had on his arm. “I know your opinion differs, but each of them was carefully chosen for their skills and come with an impressive and lengthy list of training and experience. Yet, you are asking me to insult one of them by appointing you in their stead, doing so by exerting my authority as leader of the new colony council, without due cause, and thereby showing my decisions can be easily swayed, especially by a woman I used to be intimate with.”
She scowled. “Let’s not make this personal.”
“Too late. You took it there when you came in here with big eyes, touching me when we both know that is not what you want, and asking for special treatment. Admit it. You’re in a snit because of your history with the woman and because her pre-selected team of experts excluded you. You can forget favors, Lana. It would take a hell of a lot more leverage to put my career and reputation in jeopardy than a four-week long failed mating.”
As a verbal blow, he scored a direct hit, more so than Betsy’s captive cunt comment. “Aside from the last part, which I’ll ignore, when you put it that way it sounds bad, but this is important.”
“Bad! It sounds manipulative, like nepotism at its worst, not to mention wildly inappropriate. Before I would ever consider replacing any of them, there would need to be concrete evidence of incompetence or that someone is unfit. Do you have it?”
“No,” she admitted grudgingly.
“I thought not. That you would ask me is insulting. You didn’t want to be my mate, dismissed the bond we had out of hand because you desperately wanted to go home. Yet here you are wanting something else. It seems you want what you want when you want it and damn the consequences. It puts me in mind of a spoiled child and makes me itch to treat you like one in need of a lesson.”
She flushed furiously, but he didn’t stop.
“You’ve told me several times in the past you’re a grown woman. I’d urge you to start acting like one.”
He brushed by her and opened the door.
“Trask, please.” She wanted to at least get his promise to have someone test the area between the lake and mine. What could it hurt? But she’d destroyed any trust he’d had in her and wouldn’t listen.
“No, Lana.” He glanced back. “We’re done here. You'll have to accept your presence on Terra Nova is not as a scientist but a construction worker.” His gaze slid down her body, at least twenty pounds lighter than when he’d seen her last. “Which from the looks of you gives me grounds to question your fitness.” He turned, but before he left, tossed over his shoulder, “I have other matters to attend to, if you’ll excuse me.”