Mindlink (36 page)

She had to stall, at least until Sam regained consciousness.
“What about recycling? Can’t you send me there?”

“I grow tired of these circles.” The king gestured at the
worker. “Be done with it.”

“Wait!” Ashley squealed and racked her brain for a subject he’d
appreciate. “I know what you’re really looking for. Why you asked for the
specific people on the list. The fuel crisis covered the real purpose. Your
Egyptian ancestors—and every human culture in existence—they wanted it too. Just
like you, they never found it. It’s not supposed to be found.”

His brows came together. “Please enlighten me. What is it I
seek which will never be found?”

She’d piqued his interest but for how long?

“Immortality. You seek to become a god through immortal life.”
She kept going, talking slower and slower with each new revelation. “That’s why
your most trusted advisor is the Director of the Afterlife. Why you wanted
people who knew genetics and theology, because you were betting we’d figured it
out already. But we haven’t, because every man who has ever tried it failed...
Whether it’s the fountain of youth, the tree of life or manipulating genes to
eliminate disease and aging. You should study Earth history instead of creating
people in your labs like giant Build-A-Bears or stealing ones you hope are
smarter than you.”

Menace gathered in the king’s expression. He stalked down the
steps of the throne dais. “I maintain the social system created by His Majesty
King Menet four hundred years ago and continue his quest for perfection, as my
father commanded me. My son will do the same, as will his son.”

The king pointed at a pint-sized version of himself, a
dark-headed boy who shrank under his father’s gesture. He’d clearly rather be
watching Nickelodeon or playing Monopoly instead of hanging out with his
parents.

More discord in Camelot.

At the foot of the dais, the king paused. “Citizens are
well-adjusted and satisfied with their lot. They are environmentally and
genetically prevented from falling prey to human frailties and in fact do so
successfully because they do not understand their true origins. Crime is
nonexistent, as is pain. Misery. Depression. The Telhada has eliminated these
things and we are sworn to preserve it at all costs. Where is the problem?”

The workers were riveted to the drama flying around them. No
one else noticed Sam’s head lift slightly.

She glared at his Highness. “You really are clueless, aren’t
you? How about the fact several hundred people left your perfect city to live in
darkness and poverty so they didn’t have to suffer your version of utopia.
People don’t like being lied to, especially not about who they are.”

The audience fell into the palm of her hand. Every worker in
the room listened intently, as did the queen and the prince. Who knew her most
powerful and meaningful performance would be given as Regular Ashley? For the
longest time, she’d agonized over the right words, writing scripts in her head,
and the solution lay in just being herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Sam struggle to
sit.

“Funny how none of your citizens are old,” she said, louder,
and threw all her cards on the table—every last conclusion drawn from the acidic
brain of the High Priest and then some. “When people don’t get sick or age, they
live longer. Puts more of a burden on the system. What do you do when they get
past a certain age? Trump up false charges against them and send them off to the
great recycler in the sky?”

With a snarl, the king marched toward her, murder in his eye.
Sam leaped at the same instant and crashed into him. They hit the ground, the
king under Sam.

The king was heavier but older and not as physically
conditioned as Sam. Despite that, he got in a lucky punch right at the site of
Sam’s Khota Marong bite. Sam blanched.

The guards forgot about her and rushed to assist the king.
Minus one handheld she’d slipped from the pocket of the guy on her right. Since
it was already activated, it only took seconds to find the right menu and start
dropping the guards like flies.

One down. Then the second.

Much too easy.

She keyed in the sequence for the third. Before she could
finish, the prince grabbed a long staff from the wall and waded into the melee.
He swung the stick at Sam’s head with a wobbly, unpracticed, but still
potentially deadly arc.

He missed.
Thank
you
,
God
.

But the prince kept swinging. Sam let go of the king to ward
off the stick.

Ashley had no choice but to toss the tappy thing. It skittered
across the floor. She dashed across the marble and slammed into the young royal,
knocking him off balance. He was still too close to Sam.

The stick seesawed. Her palm connected with the shaft, and she
closed her fingers around it. The staff twirled like a baton, and she gave it an
extra push to wrest it from his hands. They were evenly matched in incentive and
close to the same size, though the prince couldn’t have been more than eleven
years old.

She’d almost twisted it away when his mother jumped in with a
flurry of ivory robes and dark hair.

Six hands grappled for control over the long length of polished
wood. Silk from the queen’s ensemble wrapped around Ashley’s legs, tripping her.
She fell against the prince and lost her grip on the slick staff.

With a cry, the prince firmed his hold, but momentum propelled
the end of the stick upward and into the face of the king.

The king crashed to the ground, blood pouring from his
nose.

The only guard still standing attacked Sam from behind.

Ashley dove for the abandoned tappy thing. When she came up
with it in her hand, the queen was bent over the king and the stricken prince
hovered at her shoulder, biting his lip.

The king’s flunky zeroed in on Ashley and started in her
direction.

“You want a shot at me?” She glared at the guy the High Priest
had labeled
ORU
and pointed the tappy thing at his
skull.

ORU
shook his head, wide-eyed, and
took three huge steps backward. Well out of link range.

Impatiently, Ashley shoved hair out of her face and keyed in
the sequences. Sam’s opponent keeled over seconds later.

She fell into Sam’s arms, adrenaline flagging. He crushed her
to his chest and she breathed him in, nose to his shirt. He was safe and whole
and beautiful.

“The king is dead.” The queen’s quiet voice sliced through the
moment and they turned. She stood a healthy distance away, eyes downcast and
grief well hidden, if she felt any. The prince hung back, shoulders slumped,
like he needed a hug but wasn’t about to let anyone know.

“I’m sorry,” Ashley said sincerely. “It was an accident.”

The double doors at the head of the room crashed open and a
stream of guards cut off her apology. No, not a stream. More like an ocean.
Fifty, at least.

Seriously? Ashley growled and locked her knees.

ORU
snickered, pocketing his tappy
thing. “Your advantage is at an end. The traitors you arrived with are being
held in the lower city. They will share your fate.”

Security surrounded them and Ashley burrowed tighter into Sam’s
side.
Link
. It was the only thing that might save
them. She glanced up at Sam, who watched the queen with that piercing
laser-gaze, and Ashley nudged him with her hip to get his attention.

The queen held up her hand to the guards and they all halted,
as if jerked back by marionette strings. “No more violence. See to the
king.”

Serenely, she waved to the first row of guards and they sprang
into action, raising the king’s body and carrying him out sight.

To Ashley and Sam, she said, “The laws of Alhedis are clear and
have served us for centuries. I must send you to recycling.”

“Yet you do not wish to,” Sam said and Ashley did a double
take.
That’s
what he’d taken from her statement?

The queen, a definite Cleopatra look-alike, regarded him
steadily. “I do not agree with the practice. I disagree with many of the
Telhada’s policies. With the death of the king, the future may take a different
course. King Inaros the First, begins his reign today.” She nodded at her son,
long pageboy-style hair sweeping her shoulders. “The High Priest will guide him
in matters of the afterlife. But Inaros will also require new advisors who
understand the flaws of the current system, yet have a passion for citizens’
welfare. Whom might you suggest I appoint to this role?”

Sam smiled. “I will comprise a list.”

She didn’t return the smile. “
ORU
will clear your ID flags from the system so you may exit Kir Barsha freely. If
you choose to.”

“Yes. We will go. For now. I expect we will converse again
soon.” Sam bowed his head. “The others in our group, whom
ORU
mentioned. May they be free as well?”

The queen waved a regal hand. “Make it so.”

ORU
didn’t appear to be happy about
the mandate, but nodded grimly.

Ashley didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed Sam’s hand and
together, they walked from the throne room, through the richly appointed
corridors of the palace and into the upper city.

* * *

Once they entered the lift to the lower city, Ashley
flew into Sam’s embrace, nearly knocking him off balance. He held her, inhaled
her, his heart hammering. They were both alive and she was still on Alhedis.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. Into her amazing
hair. He ached to sink into her, to let her essence wash through him, erasing
all traces of
UBA
from his consciousness. “Why...
How are you here? Did Security find a way to call the ship back?”

“When the link broke...” She swallowed and tilted her face up.
Moisture brimmed against her lashes, magnifying a dozen emotions in her eyes. “I
didn’t know what happened, but I knew it was bad. I rolled out of the hatch
before it closed.”

Why had she done such a foolish thing? The answer—she’d done it
for him—lay in her eyes and it was too much to process. “You are stranded here
now. The ship is programmed to return, but we have no more fuel. You sacrificed
going home for me?”

“Yeah.” She looked down, instead of leaning into link range.
Still she did not consider the link a vital necessity, as he did. “We have to
find the others and let them know what’s going on.”

“Are you sad about staying on Alhedis? With me?” The probable
answer scared him, but if they ever did link again, he’d learn the truth
regardless.

The lift halted. Ashley exited and turned to respond,
evaluating him carefully.

“I thought for a long time the link was all we had. Well, that
and some amazing sex. But it’s deeper. I want to be the person you see and I
can’t be that Ashley on Earth. Not without you. So, no. I’m not upset about
missing my ride.” She shrugged. “Besides, Louboutins are overrated.”

“You had a life you wished to return to on Earth. Goals and
dreams you cannot achieve here. Why did you abandon them?”

“It’s how these things are done.” She smiled then and his gut
clenched. “When you love someone, you do what’s in their best interest, right? I
love you and you need me.”

Love
. She loved him, as he loved
her.

But he couldn’t return her smile until he gained a better
understanding of this unexpected, wonderful turn of events. Her irreversible
decision had potential to fester between them and eventually, she might blame
him for her permanent residence on Alhedis. “Your past. How will you reconcile
it here?”

“It’s done.” She took his hand and the slide of flesh sent a
shock up his arm as it had the first time she’d reached for him. “I don’t need
to go home. Remember when you told me I was getting into trouble and acting
crazy because I was trying to atone for my mistakes? I said it was to give
myself another excuse for not getting parts but we both missed secret door
number three. It’s because I was trying to fit in somewhere I don’t belong and
making a disaster out of it. My place is with you. I wasn’t on the list, but I
belong here.”

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“I’m pretending like I got off the ship because you were in
danger. But I was looking for an excuse the whole time.” She wrapped her arms
around him again and he did the same. “Besides, there’s so much to do here. Lots
of people to help. I couldn’t let you have all that fun without me.”

A lifetime of touching her could never be enough—but now he’d
been miraculously granted the opportunity to confirm it. “I am happy you chose
to stay.”

Happy. Even without the link, he could recognize it. Feel
it.

“I don’t like linking with anyone else. It sucks,” she mumbled
into his chest. “They knocked you out so that High Priest guy could link with
me. Geez, he’s a piece of work. But he knows a lot of stuff. It’s not an
accident implants only allow one link at a time or that it takes time,
commitment and a lot of pain to fight through, but the longer you stay linked
with someone, the easier it is. That’s the way the Namur designed it. Not as a
way to control everyone or figure out your secrets. As a connection which
transcends all others. That’s what I want to have with you for as long as I
live.”

He couldn’t respond because her mouth met his in a kiss. With
the pyramids of the lower city towering over them, they linked and fell
perfectly into the place where they both belonged.

* * * * *

About the Author

Kat has been scribbling in notebooks since she learned to
spell. She read her first Harlequin novel in third grade and grew up watching
Buck
Rogers
and
Starblazers
.
Of course this led to a writing career in both the contemporary and futuristic
romance genres. She majored in literature, officially with the intent to teach,
but somehow ended up buried in middle management at Corporate America, until she
became a stay-at-home mom and full-time writer.

Kat, her husband and their two boys live in North Texas. When
she’s not writing about characters on the journey to happily ever after, she can
be found at a soccer game, watching the TV series
Friends
or listening to ’80s music. Kat was the 2011 Harlequin So
You Think You Can Write winner and a 2012 RWA Golden Heart Award finalist.