Betrothed Episode One (11 page)

“
Do not question my witness,” Hart said.

“
I apologize, Illuminate.” Fargo dipped his head low in a
clearly respectful move. When he raised his head again, he swiveled
his gaze over to me for a brief second. “I was not questioning your
witness, I’m simply confused about the situation. There is no
record about this earthling's betrothal.”

Illuminate Hart looked nonplussed. “Then there has been a
mistake. I suggest you solve it. Now I must leave; there is much
for me to organize.”

I found
my voice. It burst out of me. “No, no wait. I ... I’m Annie
Carter,” I managed. “Something’s going on and I—”

“
No, you are not.” Hart turned and walked away.

That was
it.

“
I apologize, your grace. This Newfound one is confused,”
Fargo managed.

He
needn’t have bothered; Hart was already gone.

I
couldn’t move. All I could do was stare with an open mouth at his
departing form.

I’d told him who I was ... and he’d dismissed me. Maybe that
made sense –
there was no evidence to back
up my crazy claim. But it ... it felt so wrong.

It felt
like something had broken.

I
whimpered and pressed a hand into my left eyebrow.

Fargo
turned to look at me. For several seconds he said nothing; he
surveyed me as closely as a targeting sensor.

“
Do you know what’s going on here?” he asked
plainly.

I shook
my head, still incapable of turning my head from Hart’s departing
form.

He assessed me again, before taking a step back, clamping his
hands on his hips, and sighing deeply. “This is not something I
have time to deal with now. The lead up to an Illuminate wedding is
always one of the tensest periods
for
our security
forces
.”

“
I-I’m sorry,” I managed.

He
twitched an eyebrow up. “Don’t be sorry, earthling. Come with me,
and we'll try to sort this out.”

Finally
I tugged my gaze off Hart’s departing form, and I turned to study
Fargo.

He had a
kindly expression.

I knew
then and there I could trust him.

So I
did. I followed him forward.

After
several minutes, my head tugged to the west. I didn’t know what I
was looking at until I saw a figure on one of the level below
us.

Despite
the distance, I recognized him. Illuminate Hart. He had a hand
pressed on the railing as he stared at the view. Not at the
sprawling city below, but at the stars above.

I walked
with my head turned to the left as I stared at him, until Fargo led
me out of sight.

A twitch
of nerves started to build in my gut.

It was
the oddest of sensations. And yet, despite its strangeness, I still
knew what it meant.

Somehow,
some strange how, I knew what I was afraid of.

Being
apart from Illuminate Hart.

Which
was impossible; I hated the guy. Yet I couldn’t deny the certainty
forming in my mind.

...

Fargo
took me to the Central police building. I was glad of the number of
people darting around. It made me feel more secure.

He led
me up to a front desk.

The
security officer on duty behind the front desk snapped a sharp
salute.

“
At ease,” Fargo said. “I need to make enquiries.”

The
security officer nodded. Her gaze darted towards me. “Is she a
Crim?”

“
I honestly don’t know.” Fargo leaned forward and started
typing something into the panel sunk into the counter before
us.

I
stiffened, my mouth becoming as dry as a desert.

Had I
been wrong? I thought I could trust Fargo, but maybe this was a
mistake.

“
Do you want me to look after this?” The security officer
tucked her hands behind her back and shot me a steely
gaze.

Fargo
didn’t answer immediately. Instead he shot me a slow look. “No,” he
said with some finality, “I’ve got this one. First things first, I
want to confirm her identity.”

The security officer shifted forward and glanced at the panel
beside her. “Miranda Fall. Earthling. Newfound one, woken up 100
years ago from stasis.”

“
Any contracts out on her?” Fargo asked as he stared at the
same panel.

The
security officer shook her head. “Nothing.”

“
I see,” Fargo said quietly.

I
didn’t.

How the
hell did they know who I was? Or, rather, who I wasn’t?

My
identity chip had been removed. They shouldn't be able to access
information on me – even if it was a lie – so quickly.

I took a nervous step towards the bench, my feet squeaking
against the floor.

The
security officer jerked her gaze up to stare at me.

“
I – sorry, but … how are you getting that information?” I
managed.

“
Identity chip,” the security officer snapped.

“
But mine was removed,” my voice shook as I brought a hand up
and pressed my fingers into the point just below my left
ear.

The security officer shot me an impassive look. She leaned
forward and slapped a hand over her panel, and the image hovering
above it changed. It turned into a biometric scan of my body, and
an implant blinked in red. It was now lodged below my right
ear.

Instantly I jerked a hand up and pressed my fingers into the
point shown by my biometric scan. As I palpated the flesh, I felt
something small and hard underneath my searching
fingers.

Fargo
watched me out of the corner of his eye.

I made
no attempt to hide my shaking surprise. “B-but my identity implant
was on the left.”

The
security officer pressed her lips together, and it was clear from
her unwavering expression she had no sympathy for me. In her mind I
was either wasting Fargo’s time, or I was a criminal pretending to
be innocent. “You’re confused,” she said bluntly.

“
I think I’ll be the judge of that.” Fargo shifted back and
brought up his left hand. He swiped his fingers over his wrist, and
a hologram appeared over the flesh. He manipulated it for a moment,
grabbing the data off the security officer's panel, until it saved
a copy on his wrist device.

He
shifted back. “Organize me a transport to the Contracts Office.”
Though he spoke to the security officer, he still watched me out of
the corner of his eyes.

I knew I
was pale, I knew I was jumpy, and I knew I looked like a
wreck.

I was a
wreck.

“
I want you to organize me a meeting with the primary contract
chief in charge of betrothals. What's his name again, F’xial or
something?”

“
You haven’t heard?” The security officer’s usually hard
expression softened.

“
Haven’t heard what? He hasn’t gone on holiday, has
he?”

“
No, sir, he’s dead.”

“…
When?”

“
Seven days ago.”

“
Cause?”

“
Natural.”

“
Bring up his file,” Fargo commanded.

The
security officer complied. A hologram appeared over her panel
alongside scrolling text.

The hologram depicted the very same alien who had
delivered
me my
betrothal contract.

I
planted a hand over my mouth, pushing my sweaty fingers into my
lips.

Fargo
darted his gaze towards me. “What?”

I
couldn’t shift my eyes off the slowly spinning hologram of that
alien. “He’s the guy who served me my contract.”

Fargo
didn’t say anything. Instead he leaned right over the bench and
swiped the image of F’xial, dumping it into his wrist
device.

He
turned, saluted the security officer, then nodded to me. “Follow,”
he said simply.

I
did.

He led
me forward through the crowd in the main building, then up several
stories until we reached an office.

It was
expansive, and had a great view over the city. It also had a
spectacular view of the sky, and for a few seconds I stood there
and watched as ships darted on by, their blue and red exhausts like
shooting stars.

There
was an old style wooden desk on the far side of the room, facing
the door, rather than the view.

Fargo
walked over to it and sat down, gesturing to a chair for me to sit
too.

I
complied.

I sat
right on the edge of my seat, planting my hands on my lap and
fumbling with my thumbs.

“
I want you to tell me everything, from the beginning.” He
swiped his wrist device over an input panel on his desk, and soon a
quick flashing array of holograms appeared over the sunken computer
panel.

Tell him
everything?

I’d been
trying to tell people, but no one believed me.

I had no
idea what was happening, and worse than that, no idea who I was up
against.

Why
would anyone want to steal my identity?

Distractedly, I brought a hand up and palpated the implant
just under my right ear.

Fargo
watched with interest.

When my
silence stretched on for too long, however, he interrupted with a
cough.

I
snapped my gaze back to him. “I don’t know what’s going on,” I
admitted truthfully.

“
Then start from the beginning, and let me figure it
out.”

It was a
tempting offer, but it wouldn’t work.

Somehow
I knew I was on my own with this.

Yet as
soon as I entertained that thought, another leaped into my
mind.

I wasn’t
alone. There was always Illuminate Hart.

As soon
as his name flashed before my consciousness, I practically
balked.

I hated
that man. So what if he’d been instrumental in proving I was
betrothed; he was still a brute.

So I
shouldn’t be thinking about him.

I forced
every thought of him back, and I focused on Fargo.

...

Captain Fargo

I had
other things to do. Far more important things.

That
sounded harsh, but was true.

The build up to an Illuminate wedding was one of the riskiest
times in the universe. The universe could be plenty dangerous on
its own, but whenever another was added to the Illuminate clan, it
always dragged the worst from every star cluster and
planet.

Now more
than ever I had to concentrate on the security of Cluster, and the
Foundation as a whole.

This
earthling – whatever her troubles – was ultimately a
distraction.

So why wasn’t I palming this job off to somebody
else?

Sure,
she’d been instrumental in helping to capture that Borgolian, but I
didn’t owe her anything.

Plus,
the emotion locking me to my seat and tilting my head forward as I
stared at her in interest wasn’t loyalty or a sense of being
indebted. It was curiosity.

As a
captain in the Foundation Forces, I’d come across my fair share of
curiosities. This universe was as mysterious as it was
large.

But why
did this feel different? Why did this woman’s obvious confusion
pluck at my heartstrings?

She kept
playing with her hands, rolling her thumbs around and around each
other, the move jerky and nervous.

She was
clearly afraid. I didn’t need to access her active bio scans to see
the terror ripping through her body.

“
Tell me everything,” I prompted once more.

“
I don’t know where to begin,” she admitted in a shaking tone
as she tried to push her hair behind her ears.

That’s
when I noticed the tiny scar just underneath her left
ear.

It was small enough that she could have nicked herself with a
nail. But was in the exact position where implants were usually
embedded.

I
swallowed hard. “From the beginning,” I commanded.

“
I woke up three years ago. Three years and 14 days ago to be
precise.”

“
Your
implant says you woke up a little over one month ago,” I
corrected.

She shot
me a distressed look, her wide, expressive eyes crumpling as her
brow furrowed. “I know what my implant says. But it’s wrong. I
remember every detail of the Institute on Earth. And I can tell you
what happened to me over the past three years.”

I
glanced at one of the several floating holograms hovering over my
input panel. It was her file, and it told me she hadn’t woken up on
Earth at all; she’d woken up on a station.