I Married An Alien (19 page)

"She could have reported to any number of officials along the way," the haughty man asserted. Jordan wondered if he suspected Anita was involved in the conspiracy. But then he had seen the memory recording. How could any woman want to support men who had abused her so terribly?

"I am concerned that the Rembrandts now know we are after them for questioning, and that they will make it more difficult for our team to find them. The longer our men are on Earth, the higher the risk that they will find their life-mate and become distracted from the mission. That was why it was good to have Earth representatives on our side. Now I wonder who we can trust?" he said grimly.

The Chancellor had made a very good point, Jordan realized. Just which Humans could they rely on now? Definitely the mated females. Possibly some of the highly paid officials in The Administration. But after Anita’s kidnapping, not even their own guards could be relied on. Derek had told him and Logan that pair of scoundrels had been paid handsomely for the loan of their hover.

A light started flashing on the console in front of the Chancellor, and he reached out to tap it with his index finger. "It is time to initiate the hook up with Minister DeBurgh. Any further discussions will have to wait… Yes, go ahead Bianca. Open the line," he said into the speaker to one side of his console.

The holographic monitor at the centre of the table lit up, shining a beam of light to form a cube shape of about a meter square.

Everyone sitting around the table focused their attention on it and waited… and waited.

"Bianca," The Chancellor pressed the glowing button. "The channel is open, but nothing's happening."

"I'm sorry your grace, but this was the time specified,” she apologized. “All I can conclude is that the minister failed to arrive at the designated command centre."

"All right," the regal man grumbled. "We'll give him a few more minutes."

They waited until a quarter past eleven, but DeBurgh never appeared on the channel.

"Bianca, get in touch with Earth Communication's Command and find out what happened," the Chancellor ordered.

"Certainly, your grace," the unflappable Bianca replied calmly.

"I don't like this at all," the Chancellor growled.

Jordan couldn't disagree with that. For someone as important as a government minister not to appear at a pre-arranged intergalactic com-link, meant that something must have gone terribly wrong. They found out just how wrong a few minutes later.

"The prime minister of Australia has a message for us," Bianca's voice came through the loud-speaker a moment later. "Shall I put him through now?"

"Yes, of course," the Chancellor said.

A middle-aged man's face appeared in the holographic square. "Are they ready for me?" he asked as he glanced down.

"Yes. Go ahead prime minister," Bianca encouraged.

The Chancellor leant forward, and a similar square appeared around his head and shoulders. "This is Second Chancellor Nicholas Badwana. The com-link is live."

"Ah Nicholas. Good morning," the other man said, as though he really was sitting there shoulder-deep in the middle of the desk. Jordan supposed it would look odd to Anita, who had come from a time long before intergalactic communication. "I will get straight to the point, since it was my minister of trade, Damien DeBurgh, you were waiting for. With shock and grief I must inform you that minister DeBurgh was found dead in his home in the early hours of this morning. He had been shot in the head at point blank range in what appears to be an execution-style assassination."

Anita gasped in horror. Jordan reached out to comfort her before realizing she was now Ruth, and hadn’t even known Damien DeBurgh.

"It's all right," she whispered as he drew her close. "I can handle it."

"I know his daughter is there. If I may address her," the prime minister said gravely.

"Yes, she's here," the Chancellor said. "But she appears to be rather shaken."

"As are we all. My deepest sympathies, Miss DeBurgh. Your father loved you dearly, but unfortunately realized too late the trouble he was in. I am so glad you managed to escape in time." He took a deep breath. "Rest assured, we are doing all we can to find the culprits, since we now know who sent the assassins."

"Ian and Oliver Rembrandt," Anita said loudly.

"He can't hear you," Jordan told her quietly. "He can only communicate with the Chancellor. They're talking from one end of the galaxy to the other. Even with Infinity-Squared making the distance as short as possible, it isn't easy to hold such long portals open."

"Should have known they wouldn't want to do the dirty deed themselves," she muttered grimly.

Suddenly a loud
boom
filled their eardrums. The whole room started to shake. For a moment all the lights dimmed and flickered. Then they came back on, but the holographic image of the prime minister was gone.

"What the hell was
that?"
Logan gasped.

"Oh my Stars!" Mark pointed towards the window.

Everyone jumped to their feet and rushed to the large pane. A huge plume of orange had mushroomed into the air several kilometers away.

"It's the spaceport," Derek cried. "They've hit the spaceport!"

"But… but how? I thought all shields and sensors were operating at full capacity!" Jordan shouted. Anita grabbed his arm. He placed his larger one over it, staring in absolute horror as the cloud billowed up into the sky, beginning to block out the sun.

"They could have filled a space transport with explosives," cried Derek, the military minded.

"But isn’t everyone and everything searched by security before they leave?" Jordan cried.

"If they can bribe our own guards into lending out hovers, I bet they could bribe their own officials into turning a blind eye while they hijack a transport ship. Hell! How many people have died on that thing?" Derek said bitterly.

"How many have died on the ground?" Logan added, his face sheet white.

"What the fuck do those bastards
want?"
Jordan hissed.

"I have a feeling we will find out shortly," the Chancellor said, as the rest of his staff hurried into the room, obviously coming to see what their boss wanted them to do now. They looked as ashen and grave-faced as Logan, and as Jordan probably did himself. A sick feeling was starting to foam in his gut.

"Bianca, try and reopen the com-link with Earth. And get the First Chancellor on the line," the second Chancellor commanded, as efficient as ever despite the dire situation that had befallen the planet. Yes, they had other space-ports, but Jordan knew there would be no more ships arriving from Earth until the Rembrandts were apprehended. And after that, who knew what would happen.

Chapter
Fifteen

Once the com-link had been reestablished between Earth and Terron, instead of the prime minister's head appearing in the holographic square, a completely different man arrived. It took me a moment to realize who he was, because at first glance he looked pretty much like any other middle-aged male. I wondered if the current incumbent was a long distant descendant of John Howard, a man who had been prime minister for quite a number of years in my day.

"Who are you?" the Chancellor immediately demanded. "You're not Allan Howard."

"How observant of you," the unattractive holographic head sneered. With a jolt of horror I realized who he was.

"Ian Rembrandt!" I grasped Jordan's sleeve. After watching various military hovers and craft head for the stricken space-port from our lofty window, we had returned to our positions around the table, feeling lost and helpless. I could tell the men were itching to join their troops, search for and help any survivors, but they were at the mercy of the Chancellor. Once he'd finished negotiating with the other chancellors and the First Chancellor in the privacy of his office at the other end of the room, he had ordered everyone to stay put. The whole building was now under lockdown.

The huge smoke cloud had now settled over most of the city, casting an eerie glow across the sky. It looked ominous, and reflected how I felt. Everything was beginning to take on an unreal quality. It seemed that this disaster revolved around me, or rather the woman I had become, and it scared the living daylights out of me.

"The prime minister is indisposed at the moment and can't come to the party. I'm afraid he's a bit tied up, if you get my drift," Ian Rembrandt laughed at his own pathetic joke.

But the stern-faced Chancellor wasn't playing his game. "What do you want, Rembrandt?"

"Oh not much really, just one Human woman, or rather my son does. He's beside himself with worry about his fiance."

"You bastard!" Jordan hissed, and I felt his whole body tense under my hand, where it rested against his forearm. "There's no way you, or your depraved son, are ever getting hold of Anita again."

"He can't hear you," Logan said from the other side of the table. "He can only hear the Chancellor."

"More's the pity, because I want to jump right down his throat and tear his fucking heart out!" Jordan snarled.

The Chancellor cast us a hard look, and was about to say something, when Ian continued. "You will be pleased to note that Earth will no longer require any more of your
Hytana
plant oil. My scientists and engineers have worked out how to synthesize the oil, so we can now make our own."

"What?" several of the other men gasped, and the Chancellor asked; "How is that possible?"

Ian Rembrandt tapped the side of his beak of a nose. "For me to know and you to find you." Again he sniggered nastily. "Now I would have played fair if you hadn't taken something which belongs to us. You might have noticed that we just used up the last shipment of your
Hytana
oil in a most spectacular fireworks display."

"I
am
going to tear out his heart," Jordan growled, and I squeezed his hand tighter.

"So, my fine alien friends, you have your planet all to yourselves again, so long as you return Anita DeBurgh to Earth within forty-eight hours. Failure to do so will result in the cancellation of the Treaty, the only thing keeping your pathetic race alive."

"They'll cancel the Treaty anyway," Logan muttered. "Now that we don't have something they want."

"How the hell did he get in charge so fast anyway?" I wanted to know. "Isn't there meant to be a Central Government Hub, or some such thing?"

"Well, there was. But as soon as Rembrandt told them about his wonderful new oil substitute, they probably started bowing and scraping to
him
… I bet they have no idea what he's done to us," Brian said grimly.

"I've got an idea," Jordan said suddenly. He motioned to the Chancellor.

"I will need to confer with my fellow Counselors," the Chancellor told Rembrandt.

"Well, don't take too long," Ian said amiably. "I have oil to produce you know, and there is a terrible shortage at the moment, so I really need to get cracking."

"I'll crack you over the head, you smug bastard," Jordan muttered.

The Chancellor stepped away from the holographic communication unit, and came to our end of the table. "Just tell me what you have in mind, and forget the violent retorts,” he snapped. “I know you want to get your hands on him. We all do, but it's not helping matters. We must remain professional at all times."

"All right," Jordan said. "I propose we meet him in space for the exchange."

"What?" I gasped. "There's no way I'm going anywhere near him!"

Jordan placed his index finger against my lips. "Hear me out, love, and then you can castigate me all you like…" He returned his attention to the Chancellor. "We make the condition that both he and his son come. We supply the exact co-ordinates and time to meet; you program them into the spindle computer network, and it blasts his ship to kingdom come."

"I like the way this guy thinks," Derek remarked. "But it's too risky. We might also blast
you
to kingdom come."

"If we're shielded the spindle won't be able to fix on us. The only ship out there in space it will be able to detect will be theirs. The spindles have an incredible range and now they’ve been fitted with the infinity-squared system, they can shoot through the wormhole network. No one on Earth even knows what they're for, and their energy comes directly from the core. We agree to meet halfway between Earth and Terron, and no one will be the wiser."

"How do we know he won't be armed and strike us down first?" the Chancellor asked.

"That's why we give him the coordinates. We'll know exactly when he's going to show up. We'll remain shielded until the last possible moment," Jordan explained.

"And what's if they use one of our ships and remain shielded themselves? If you recall Anita's kidnapping attempt they were about to steal a military shuttle from right under our noses. Who's to say they haven't already taken one of our own ships to Earth?" the Chancellor persisted.

Jordan sighed. "All we can do is hope they haven't. I mean they've never had cause to attack us until Anita took off on them with her knowledge about the explosives…" He sighed again. "I'm open to other suggestions, but violence and destruction is all these men know. It would be the last thing they expect from us. They think we’re all peaceful peasant farmers."