Love, Encoded (Selected Evolution Series Book 1) Page 18

  And soon the retrieved Denacon records would be accessed. He had no doubt Miss Rasmussen would be able to penetrate whatever protection the Denacon files utilised.

  His secret would be revealed and the entire truth would become known. A whisper of relief slipped through his mind; the deception of his people had not sat well with him. How would they react? The proper course of action would be to inform them now of all that he had done—and of the actions of his previous self—before the Denacon files revealed every appalling fact.

  “Well, I guess the Denacons are here.”

  “Dammit, Sarah there will be no more of this.” Adam slashed a hand through the air as he stomped up and down before the marble fireplace in the study at the mansion. Agitation stung every one of his still quivering muscles. His heart had barely recovered from watching her plummet towards—Don’t go there. “Your life is too precious.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but it was worth the risk to obtain whatever information we could about the Denacon,” she said.

  “Not if we’d lost you, Sarah.” The tremor shuddering through Nick’s quiet voice reflected the fear of facing her death lingering in his eyes.

  “I think you’re overreacting, Marnia would have gotten us out in time.”

  “Actually,” Marnia said, “my landing would not have been that gentle. I didn’t have time to compensate for the extra velocity we’d gained before clearing their dampening field. If I’d transported us we’d have hit the landing pad very fast and very hard—things would have . . . broken.”

  Adam closed his eyes as his heart felt like it burrowed into his ribs. Yeah, that’s just what I need to hear.

  “Dammit, Sarah! If the Denacons hadn’t come after you on foot they could have captured you by the same means we did.”

  Her wind-whipped hair brushed her shoulder line as she shook her head. “No, they couldn’t. I planted a routine to disrupt their start up sequence, without power they couldn’t pursue us or use their teleporter.”

  Adam scrubbed a hand over the back of his head. Frustration boiled through him.

  How the hell am I to get her to agree—

  “But I promise not to have any more fun without you. Either of you.” She smiled at him, a warm smile with an overtone of apology. An olive branch. His angry fear melted and she turned her gaze to encompass Nick.

  “Will that satisfy you?”

  Hardly. What would satisfy us is—

  He put the brakes on that thought as the lush heat of yearning hummed through his body. What they had done together, to each other, in engineering still coursed through his veins.

  “Angel—”

  She held up a hand. “I know, you want me safe.” Her lips curved in a soft smile. “I understand, I want you safe too. Now,” she rubbed her hands over her thighs and stood, “I think I’ll go and change and see if I can brush the knots out of my hair. With any luck by that time the reductive algorithm I set will have deciphered the locked files we snitched from the Denacons and we can see what they have to tell us.”

  Nick and Adam accompanied Sarah to the room she kept at the mansion. They’d left her to shower alone, but afterwards Nick’s hands had been so gentle combing the length of her wet hair. Adam wouldn’t let her stand from the chair they’d placed her in until he’d run a medical scanner over every micron of her body—three times—his full lips thinning at even the mildest of scratches that marred her skin. They’d fussed over the bruise on her cheek and Nick’s wonderful, strong fingers had massaged the kink out of her neck.

  Refreshed, and somewhat exhilarated by her recent escapade and the close attentions of her men, she followed them into the study to find Draken awaiting them, the tip of his tail twitching so rapidly it looked like a rattlesnake suffering from hummingbird syndrome.

  “Please take a seat,” he said to them, then his head swung back to the door. “Ah, good, Kane, Marnia, before we assess the Denacon information, I have something I must impart to you all.”

  A prick of interest darted through Sarah’s mind. Nick’s strong arm wound around her waist and he settled her between him and Adam on the long couch. Kane leaned against the bar, stretching his long legs out and crossing his ankles. Marnia flopped into the wingback chair beside the couch, a purple/red bruise looking painful on her forehead.

  Draken’s claws scraped ceaseless, short lines across the marble tiles as his toes flexed repeatedly. He seemed unaware of the grooves he left in the stone floor.

  “You recall—”a rumble issued from him then he gave a short coughing bark. “You recall I spoke once of a device that enabled our medics to replicate a complete biological organism?”

  “Yes,” Sarah said, the combined warmth of Nick and Adam’s thighs and torsos spreading blissful relaxation along her limbs. “Damaged beyond your means of repair, I think you said—or something to that extent.”

  “That is correct. Its—that is I believe its final use was to repair extensive injuries to myself incurred during the crash.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “You have replicated parts?” She considered the import of the statement. “Is that relevant?”

  Draken’s snout tilted, his wings trembled as though a shiver twisted down his spine. “It is relevant because all of my being was replicated.”

  A harsh gasp resounding with shock burst from Marnia. Sarah turned to her. Marnia’s gaze remained glued on Draken, her eyes round and bewildered.

  “Is that a problem?” Sarah asked.

  “No,” Marnia said slowly, “just, well, unexpected.”

  Sarah flicked her gaze to Kane. He seemed just as taken aback—and for a man who rarely expressed his emotions that was some tell. She refocused on Draken.

  “What’s the significance of you admitting this now?”

  Rigidity congealed on Draken’s frame and she frowned at his odd behaviour. “You will find what will be revealed in the Denacon files horrifyingly shocking. Unfortunately I have no doubt the facts will be accurate.”

  Sarah tried to figure out where Draken was heading with this, but the information she had to hand failed to highlight any reason for the concern radiating from him, or his need to impart this information now.

  “What don’t we know? What connects your admission to the information we’re about to uncover?”

  Draken’s claws scraped the tiles again. “I am not as I once was.”

  Must you speak in riddles? She rubbed the tip of her index finger over her eyebrow and grasped her patience. “In English please, Draken, plain and simple.”

  “Of course. You are correct, my apologies. To be succinct, my replication was not . . . exact. By design or mistake I am unaware, the medic who performed the procedure died before I gained consciousness. As a result of the lack, my priorities have become tempered by conscience. I now consider the basic rights of all beings. To be clear, my species, the Draken rule by a totalitarian regime. In the name of self-righteousness and the advancement of Anaconia we have committed dreadful atrocities.”

  Disbelief blanketed Sarah’s thoughts. She stared at Draken. She blinked. She sifted through his words, but found she could not associate ‘committed dreadful atrocities’ to him. Not as she knew him. Sure, he’d made some morally dubious decisions, but nothing, well, holocaustic. His actions here on Earth did not seem those of a Draken as described by him.

  “These acts were perpetrated on other species?” she asked.

  “I am afraid so.”

  Maybe I’m misreading things. “What did you do?”

  A shudder shook Draken’s entire body. “The Draken Council approved the use of the tachyon drive to realign planets and bring them under our control.”

  That sentence should sound so innocuous, but . . . She considered the implications of ‘tachyon drive’ and ‘realign’ in the sam
e sentence.

  “My understanding of the tachyon drive is that it will move whatever is within the tachyon field through time only, the object remains in the same space it occupied. Are you saying you went to these planets in a ship loaded with troops then used the tachyon drive to go back in time to when the people of said planets were incapable of resisting you, or providing little resistance, and occupied them?”

  “It shames me to admit it, but yes, that is precisely what we did.”

  Appalled abhorrence trapped the breath in her lungs. “No wonder the Denacons are bent on your destruction.”

  A huge sigh drifted from Draken and his shoulders slumped. “I can’t say I blame them, given what I remember.”

  That does not sound good.

  She flicked her gaze over the others in the room. Disgust hardened Nick and Adam’s features, a shell-shocked expression slackened Marnia’s face and absolute coldness glittered in Kane’s eyes.

  “I take it no Anaconians know about this?”

  The chords of Marnia’s neck rippled. “No,” she rasped then cleared her throat. “No, not a thing. Never even suspected. At least not those of us living on Earth.” Anger and revulsion flared suddenly in her friend’s eyes. “How could Anaconians have allowed that? I can’t believe that they went along—that they abetted such,” she shook her head in horrified bewilderment, “egregious acts.”

  “Your ancestors were conditioned from birth to believe in their own superiority, just as you were taught to believe in equality,” Draken replied.

  Marnia’s gaze sharpened on him. “By you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you were somehow changed.”

  “That is my conclusion. I discovered that a gland in the Draken brain secretes a hormone that suppresses the moral centre. I do not possess this gland. I cannot speculate on why it was omitted in my replication.”

  Marnia pulled in a sharp breath. “I don’t think I like original Anaconians very much.” She shot a sharp look at Draken. “It wasn’t your plan to re-join them, was it—after we leave Earth?”

  “Absolutely not, even if any survive the Denacon assaults. I believe we can establish a peaceful, successful community on Aquarii Prime.” His feet shuffled. “I would like to assure you that I am extremely humbled and grateful to have undergone this transformation and I cannot express the depth of my regret for the crimes my former self committed.”

  “How many worlds?” Sarah asked.

  Draken’s gaze focused on her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I think we need to know the depth of animosity focused on you. How many worlds have the A—have the original Anaconians seized?”

  The tip of Draken’s tail carved a rapid figure eight in the air. “Five in total. My previous self was responsible for the realignment of one Denacon world and that of another species.”

  “How many deaths?”

  A shadow of remorse darkened Draken’s eyes. “Very few in the terms of one must be alive to die.”

  Horrified realisation condensed like a rock in Sarah’s chest. “You mean because of your actions people ceased to exist because they’d never been born?”

  “That is the case, yes.”

  “Then how many casualties have been the result of these realignments?”

  “An accurate figure has never been calculated, but I would estimate many thousands, possibly tens of thousands. Or more.”

  Oh. My. God. If I didn’t know this Draken I’d hand him over to the Denacons myself.

  The desecration of so many peoples’ basic rights overwhelmed her sensibilities. She struggled to understand how anyone could act so coldly on such a profound scale.

  “Is that what you came here to do?” she whispered passed the horror constricting her throat. By her side Nick and Adam tensed.

  Draken’s shoulder’s hunched, but he maintained eye contact. “Yes.”

  Son-of-a—

  —But they hadn’t, because this Draken had . . . what?—

  —Realised the odds were against him, even with their advanced technology—

  —Or genuinely had a change of gland if not heart.

  Earth’s history could so easily have been different. For better or for worse?

  Who knew?

  “Why would the medic feel the need to replicate you? Surely whoever was next in command would assume control.”

  “Anaconian society has been led to believe that a Draken must command. Without a Draken to lead they would not have known how to survive.”

  “Well I for one am glad I’m not a member of such a spineless culture,” Marnia muttered, disgust lacing her voice.

  Kane straightened and strode to Draken. “I presume you deleted this data from the archives? That is why we have so very little information on our origins.”

  “I did. I saw a chance to improve a civilization that I considered had become abominable—for that I am not sorry.”

  Sarah stared at Draken, irritation compressed the corner of her mouth. “Any other surprises?”

  “No,” Draken replied. “That is all.”

  She focused on the consequences they now faced. “I guess that makes it even more imperative to view the Denacon files.”

  She rose to her feet and approached the computer interface.

  “What should we look at first?”

  “The latest communication,” Nick said.

  She tapped a few instructions and a flow of information scrolled slowly across the refractive screen.

  “That’s a Denacon communications glyph,” Kane pointed to a curly icon.

  Sarah stabbed her finger at it and a list appeared.

  “Top entry,” Kane murmured. “That was sent yesterday.”

  She selected the communication, ran a translation programme and returned to sit between Nick and Adam. An image appeared, bisected by a line it showed an almost human-looking man on either side. An intensely bright, Search-and-Rescue orange wall seemed to glow behind the man on the left.

  She stared at him. The skin on her nape prickled and tightened. A shiver tripped down her spine. Ice green eyes ringed by charcoal gazed ahead with the direct intensity of a predator sighting pray.

  God, I think Nick’s face is strong. This guy looks like he’s carved from granite. Inside and out.

  The man on the right did not seem any softer, his face shaped by incisive, sharp lines. Dark grey shaded the harsh bone structure of both men’s cheek and jaw, contrasting against the dusky golden hue of their skin. Abnormally thick, spiky, cropped hair looked as unforgiving as a bed of nails.

  Draken pointed a claw at the man on the left. “That is Captain Helran. It was his ship that tried to destroy us.”

  A few objects partially obscured by the captain’s bulk nestled on a bench top behind him. Helran began to speak. “Tactical Prime.”

  “That is the title of the man he addresses,” Draken murmured, “his immediate superior.”

  “Captain Helran. Your progress?”

  “We continue to seek the Draken, Sir.”

  “He eludes you? How?”

  “Unclear. Despite our refined attempts, we have been unable to detect any trace of Anaconian influence in the technology of the planet.” The man’s features hardened. “Rest assured, Sir, I will not allow what happened at Karnassia be repeated.”

  A low, rumbling hiss filled the room. Kane paused the commentary and all eyes swung to Draken. The colour had faded from his azure eyes, leaving them a pale, bleached blue.

  “What is it?” Sarah asked.

  Draken’s haunches slumped to the floor as though the support of his legs had given way.

  “Karnassia,” he whispered. Silence clung to the air. The skin above Draken’s eyes pleated, cerulean moisture beade
d on his lids. “That is the planet I . . . destroyed.”

  Oh, hell. She pulled her synapses from the horrified sludge they’d become bogged in and gazed at him in compassion. “You mean your former self destroyed.”

  “I doubt the Denacons will make that distinction.” Draken swallowed. “Karnassia was the original target of the tachyon drive occupation. It was a Denacon world.”

  She turned her gaze back to the frozen image of Helran. Could that catastrophe be the reason for his hard, driven exterior? Did he have a personal stake in this hunt for Draken? She swallowed. Had he lost people in that assimilation? Someone close?

  She grimaced. This is going to get very ugly.

  She studied the paused recording. Something about the image niggled at her, tried to flag her attention, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Not the man, though he was indeed disturbing, but something else. The sheer, ‘in-your-face’ brightness of the orange wall? No-o-o. She narrowed her eyes. What was it?

  Adam’s fingers tightened where they rested on her thigh as Nick dragged her closer in his embrace. Kane resumed the recording.

  “Perhaps only the Draken exists,” the Tactical Prime postulated. “The other Anaconians may have been killed in the crash.”

  “Possibly.” Helran’s tone did not indicate his belief in this. “I believe the remains of the ship would have been uncovered by us by now if it were not hidden. I will scour the planet until I find the tachyon drive and eliminate any with working knowledge of it.”