Chapter Four
“Thanks for letting me do this,”
Charity said as Sara’s handheld tapped hers, transmitting a shopping list. “I realize you can have what you need delivered, and I haven’t done much as far as work’s concerned.”
“You should get the lay of the land. The town isn’t a big deal to figure out, but you’ll want to familiarize yourself where everything is. Including the bakery Ilid’s parents are considering buying.”
Sara wiggled her brows at her. “Ilid must be very interested to have asked you to get together again so soon.”
“We’re hoping to have fun. He’s probably finding it hard to be in a new place where he hasn’t met anyone yet. I get the idea he isn’t as outgoing as me.”
As warm as he’d been when they’d first met, Charity had the notion Ilid wouldn’t have introduced himself to her on the shuttle. His matchmaking mother had been the instigator.
“Be careful then, especially if you’re ‘just having fun,’”
Sara advised. “I doubt Ilid would tell anyone your identity, but you never can tell who might be listening in on your conversations.”
“No problem. To him, I’ll always be Jennifer Seng, otherwise known as Miss Behavior and chemistry lab bomber.”
Charity offered her sunniest smile despite a jab of conscience. She hated the necessity of lying to Ilid. Though her crush on him was no doubt temporary, he was a sweet guy who didn’t deserve to be lied to.
* * * *
“So this is the makings of your baked goods kingdom.”
Charity looked around the shop. “I have to say, the smell alone screams ‘buy me.’ I can feel my waistline expanding already.”
Ilid and his parents chuckled as she pretended to bite the air. “You missed the excitement of us evaluating the equipment.”
Her friend indicated the stainless steel tools of the trade visible through the door that opened to the rear of the shop area.
“Industrial mixers, oven capacity, beverage machines…the heart races,”
Imdiko Jadel joked.
Charity fanned herself and spoke breathlessly. “Not to mention vats of dough rising. And the kneading machine! Stars, I feel faint.”
“I’m beginning to wonder why I went into security work if baking is such a thrill. My Matara, you’ve been holding out on me,”
Gruthep chided Diju.
“You stay out of it, Nobek. I’m keeping it all for myself and my son,”
she snarled before erupting in girlish giggles.
Charity grinned. Clan Codab were excellent sports, always ready to join in on the younger people’s sillier turns.
“Seriously, how’s it look for your plans? I don’t have the first clue went it comes to commercial baking, but it certainly appears clean and inviting.”
She admired the sparkling surfaces, the vast baked treats display shelves, and cozy if somewhat worn seating dotting the public space.
“It’s nearly move-in ready,”
Ilid said, his gaze impressed as he evaluated the space. “The previous owners kept it up beautifully.”
“It would do to start, but I believe upgrades are in order.”
Diju spoke in businesswoman tones as she tapped in her handheld. “We’ll give Ilid time to decide if this environment suits him. If so, we’ll make an offer.”
“Go ahead and do it. I feel great about this.”
Ilid beamed at the large front windows of the bakery, which showed a coffee shop across the wide shuttle lane in front of the business.
Charity eyed the coffee shop with lust. She was overdue for another cup. As soon as possible, she’d obey its siren song and visit.
Besides the beckoning java, a few people, mostly women guiding their small children in hover strollers, strolled along the walkways. They drifted in and out of the various stores boasting farm wares, groceries, and clothing.
“You’ve barely been on Haven a full day, my son. It’s soon to come to such a decision,”
Codab gently reminded him.
“It’s perfect. Don’t you think so, Jennifer?”
She glanced at him and was astounded at how happy he looked. The guardedness had all but vanished from his handsome face. Was this compelling bright-faced man the real Ilid?
She swallowed. It was on the tip of her tongue to agree because she enjoyed how at ease he appeared.
“If it makes you happy, it’s perfect for you .”
A shadow briefly flitted across his face. “Still worried about stepping in those ronka patties, huh?”
“I’m in the market for galoshes if you want to take me shopping when you’re done here. Fortunately, Clan Amgar doesn’t deal in critters bigger than chickens, so the hip waders I planned on aren’t necessary. Halfway up the shins should do fine.”
She was glad he didn’t take her lack of adoration for Planet Farm Hell personally.
Besides, it was best to ensure he was aware their association, as delightful as it had been and promised to be, was for a limited time only. Eventually, Jennifer Seng would revert to Charity Nath, who had a life and future far from Haven.
If Diju was disappointed Charity hadn’t fallen so hard for her son that she was ready to cancel her plans in favor of a life at his side, she didn’t show it. “You two go ahead and explore the town. A successful bakery isn’t simply a matter of the four walls it’s in, after all. It’s dependent on those who’ll buy from it. Get to know your potential customers, Ilid…and have fun, of course.”
“All right.”
Ilid grinned at Charity. “Where do you suppose we’ll find the boots you need to survive the fields and pastures?”
“No idea, so we’d better grab some fuel to keep us going.”
“The coffee shop across the street? Sounds perfect.”
Charity beamed at Diju. “You raised your boy right, Momma.”
They left on a tide of Clan Codab’s laughter.
* * * *
Neither Charity nor Ilid were in a hurry to do actual shopping. They sat in the café sipping coffee, which the Dramok said was growing on him. “I’ve been a bit slow to enjoy your drinks and food. I haven’t had a lot of exposure to Earthers despite our people getting closer over the past decade,”
he admitted.
“Despite the Earthtiques’ attempts to stick a wedge between us, you mean.”
“I have a confession.”
Ilid eyed her, shamefaced. “When the Basma started his campaign for a pure Kalquor, my parents and I agreed. To a point,”
he added quickly. “It wasn’t as if we wanted war or to let our culture go extinct. Mixing our species had happened fast. We were rattled by it. It was overwhelming to have so many of the empire’s resources go to human women.”
“It was a quick change. I was surrounded by those who were determined to separate our species by force. I never saw myself dating a Kalquorian, much less a clan. It was just recently I considered your people an option,”
Charity allowed.
Ilid looked relieved. “The business of civil war over whether Earthers should be welcome in the empire was where my family drew the line. When Dramok Maf set our people against each other, it became clear we’d taken the wrong side. Overnight, my mother started baking and selling cinnamon rolls and chocolate chip cookies alongside suod wafers and tasi biscuits.”
“Chocolate chip cookies,”
Charity breathed. “All is forgiven if I’m allowed to have a sample.”
He chuckled. “The first batch from the new bakery is yours. How did you overcome your reluctance to date Kalquorians?”
Charity’s face warmed, but embarrassment only made her blunt. “Lust.”
Ilid’s eyes widened. He slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from bellowing fresh laughter.
Prophets, she loved seeing him grin and loved hearing his amusement after seeing his lapses into gloom during their trip to Haven.
As much as she wished to continue to amuse him, she was determined to be as truthful with Ilid as her situation allowed. “Actually, the stunning members of the empire helped me get past the real reason I kept my distance.”
“Which was?”
Charity felt the bitterness in her smile. “I warn you…it’s totally childish. You might lose whatever respect you have for me if I admit the depth of my resentment.”
His brows rose. “I doubt it. Do tell, Miss Behavior.”
“My older sister ran off and joined a clan. It felt as if she abandoned me. She didn’t really. There was no help for us being separated, but it put distance between us. I was hurt. Still am. Whatever she does, my knee-jerk reaction is to do the opposite.”
Ilid’s hand covered hers. “That’s rough. You and she were close at one point?”
“Long ago. Following our mother’s death, she took care of me. She was my rock, as hard as I made it for her.”
Charity considered how she’d taken out her grief, masking as snarky angst, on Hope every chance she got. “Man, what a pain in the ass I was, especially considering she’d have laid her life on the line for me. I’d have done the same for her, but she probably wouldn’t believe it. I was the worst.”
“I’ve always wished for brothers and sisters,”
Ilid said. “Being a Dramok, I’d have probably bossed them around horribly. I bet it’s for the best I’m an only child.”
“You’d be amazed at how forgiving siblings would have been. My sister…she still hasn’t given up on me. When she gets the guts to face my attitude, she’s as encouraging and supportive as ever. She does add a generous sprinkling of ‘give the insolence a rest.’”
Charity laughed and noted how sad it sounded. It had been weeks since she’d heard from her sister, who at last report, had gone deep in enemy territory to spy on the Darks.
She shook the moroseness free. “Enough of this tragic story. We need to lighten up and have some fun.”
“I’m all for it.”
Ilid raised his coffee cup to her. “We can make discovering a worthwhile venue for shenanigans our main objective.”
“Shenanigans. There’s the word for the day. I may have a lead on the location to indulge, thanks to the most standoffish Nobek I’ve ever met.”
Charity told him of the local drinking spot Detodev had mentioned. “He’s right about avoiding the other bar. I peeked in. It smells of man sweat, animals, and anger. I think I also caught a hint of piss.”
Ilid snickered. “Oh no. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“It has no floor. Sawdust covers the ground. I bet it’s to soak up the aforementioned urine and blood from the murderous fights Detodev mentioned. Very Old Earth-Old West degenerate.”
“I’d protect you, fair damsel,”
Ilid teased. “No need to fear.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid of the jerks who no doubt make up the clientele at night. This morning, I only saw an old man snoring at a table littered by beer and kloq bottles and shattered dreams. What terrifies me is what your mother would do to me if I let you anywhere near the place. Even if the grumpy Nobek I spoke to was with us.”
“You’re a wise woman.”
His smile was everything, drawing her from her half-made-up description of the Roadhouse bar.
“We should meet up at the respectable club. Tonight.”
“Meet up? You mean with the Nobek from the Amgar farm?”
“I was referring to you and me, Ilid.”
“You don’t want to go out right after shopping? Maybe have dinner?”
She cocked a brow. “I’m self-absorbed, and I fully believe the universe revolves around me, but I have no intention of my constant presence smothering you all day today.”
“I won’t mind if you do. My plans were to check out the bakery, then spend the rest of the day escorting you around town…unless I’d be smothering you .”
Anxiety touched his features.
Pleasure filled her. She’d hoped their afternoon together would extend to the evening. “Great. Let’s have our coffee, go shop, pick up Sara’s order, eat dinner, and have drinks at Bar, Bowl, and Barrel. As for the Nobek, would you be interested in an introduction if he shows up? I think Detodev’s around our age.”
Ilid considered. The sense of past hurt had returned, and Charity wondered if it came from a former relationship gone bad. Maybe her urge to draw out Detodev and find his fun side would have to go unanswered.
“I suppose it would be all right. I should introduce myself to the locals for the bakery’s sake, if nothing else. What’s this Detodev like?”
She shrugged. “He’s a bit standoffish. It makes him interesting…to me, anyway. People who try to keep themselves under wraps present too much of a mystery for me to resist trying to get under their skin.”
“Ah. You enjoy a challenge.”
A shadow passed over his features.
“You already know me so well. Detodev’s on his own now, but he was originally among Clan Amgar’s teen rescues…willingly, he says. I think he came here to escape a crime syndicate. I suspect he and the boss’ wife had a torrid affair.”
“As a teen?”
Ilid snorted.
“Coming up with worst-case scenarios is among my favorite games. You try.”
“Okay.”
He considered. “He’s an undercover agent for the farming collective, searching for genetically altered seeds. If they’re grown, the resulting crops will turn those who eat them into mindless super soldiers, capable of taking over the universe on the behalf of the mastermind behind the plot.”
“Wow. Nice one. You should write vid dramas.”
Charity grinned in delight.
“Your turn.”
“I’m done. I can’t top your soldier seed apocalypse. What happens when the mastermind discovers Detodev’s a spy? You know it’ll come out in the end. Weave me the tale and leave me gasping.”
She lost herself in Ilid’s laughter, delighted to have met such a wonderful man in the most unremarkable of places.
* * * *
Assistant Chief Wilkes sauntered past the bakery where an unfamiliar Kalquorian clan was taking measurements of the walls and counter spaces. They held little interest for him, but his gaze nonetheless lingered on the Kalquorian woman. The alien females were so rare as to be remarkable. This particular Matara had impressive muscle, similar to the men of her species, but she was curvy tending toward plumpness. Her face was pleasant as she spoke to the men.
The Nobek, scarred as his breed tended to be, turned in Wilkes’ direction. The enforcement officer nodded acknowledgment when their gazes met and moved on.
He waited until he was past the bakery’s big glass windows to aim his gaze across the shuttle lane at the woman he was interested in. She sat next to the large window in the coffee shop, accompanied by a young Kalquorian male. He was someone else Wilkes didn’t recognize. Jennifer Seng laughed hard at something her companion said. In spite of her mouth being stretched wide open, she was pretty in a vivacious fashion.
Wilkes paused to take a longer look when he’d ensured no one witnessed him watching his subject. Again, he couldn’t verify she might be Charity Nath, though he’d examined every picture and vid of the vanished woman he’d been able to unearth. They weren’t helpful. Most had been taken when she’d been in her childhood and early teens, before Armageddon.
He moved on. After checking his surroundings again, he pulled his com unit from a pocket and told it to connect to Devin’s Building Supply.
“Is it her?”
a voice asked by way of greeting. The man who’d answered and spoke in Wilke’s earpiece wasn’t named Devin, and he owned no supply company.
“I can’t tell. I’ll have to get a voice recording and do an analysis. A DNA sample would be better to be absolutely certain. It could take time.”
“Time is what I don’t have. I had to sleep overnight in the bunker again, thanks to these asshole rebels. The sooner you find out if she’s the traitor’s daughter, the sooner we can get some answers about her father’s and Browning Copeland’s supposed death.”
“I’m working on it, but I have to move carefully. She’s lodging at the home of Haven’s Kalquorian head of security, which complicates the situation.”
He could practically see Governor John McCarthy of Mercy seething despite it being an audio-only connection. “You want to talk complicated situations? Come out here, and I’ll show you complicated. Half the damn planet’s sick from Dark Death, and the other half is trying to stage a coup against my government. I need proof the Holy Leader lives and the Kalquorian Empire is holding him illegally to bring these assholes in line!”
“You’ll have it once I can get close to the girl and verify she’s our target. If my agenda is exposed, we get nothing. I have to go.”
He clicked off and smiled at the woman pushing a hover stroller in his direction. “Good morning, Anna! How are the twins?”
He pretended to admire the hybrid children the cheerful brunette paused to show off. Wilkes could admit McCarthy had it bad on virus- and insurgent-plagued Mercy, but much of it had been his own damned fault. His ruse to undermine those who opposed him had set his constituents against him and threatened his hold on the government.
Deadly pandemic and unrest aside, at least the stupid bastard wasn’t surrounded by ungodly whores, degenerate aliens, and their unnatural offspring. Wilkes was up to his neck in Haven’s mire, reporting on its sins to support the traditional-leaning Earther governments of Mercy and New Bethlehem. He couldn’t indulge in the solace of hauling in the smugly beaming Anna of Clan Wyto before a jury of her peers to answer for her sins. All he could do was allow her to walk off while cooing to her foul progeny. His sole function over the years had been to catalog the travesties he lived alongside of and hope his superiors found a way to capitalize on the endless reports he sent.
If Jennifer Seng was Charity Nath, he’d score a greater victory. The Galactic Council, now firmly set against Kalquor, could recover the Holy Leader once it was proven he lived. If Copeland was restored to the true believers of old Earth, if it were proved God’s will couldn’t be denied in the end, Wilkes’ people would have direction again.
“Let me be the instrument of our salvation,”
he breathed as he continued through the Sodom and Gomorrah known as Haven.