She had enough presence of mind to be grateful that the ladies room in the Orlando International Airport was scrupulously clean before another spasm shook her, bending her over the toilet bowl she was kneeling in front of, retching futilely as her stomach tried to turn itself inside out. Only bile came out. She'd emptied her stomach in the first three spasms. Behind her she could hear the indignantly judgemental tones of the two tourists she'd pushed past on her rush to get into the stall before she thoroughly embarassed herself.
"This is an outrage! It shouldn't be allowed, letting people like that in here." The door closed behind them, cutting off the rest of the rant.
Lieutenant Ari Adler, late of the UEO vessel seaQuest, laughed weakly, her humor turning into weak sobs as tears filled her eyes. They thought she was drunk. She almost wished she was. It was better than this bout of killer butterflies that were attacking her at the thought of another flight. She was still weak from her dream adventures in Hell, which had left her in an unexplained coma for several days, prompting her removal from the UEO's most powerful submarine. Not that Captain Hudson needed much of an excuse.
Deciding that her stomach might cooperate, she slowly, cautiously regained her feet, leaning heavily on the side of the stall. She stood there for a few seconds, waiting to see if it was safe to return to her seat.
It was for the best, though. Now that she thought she knew where her fiance, Miguel Ortiz, had ended up when the alien Hyperions had returned the ship and her crew to earth, there was no way anyone was going to stop her from going to him. This just made it easier.
Taking a deep breath, Ari slowly headed for the bathroom exit. Walking made her abused stomach hurt, so she crouched over slightly, trying to ease the pain. Her seat had been taken in her absence, but an older woman, sympathy shining in her eyes, yielded hers to the aching young woman. Nodding her thanks, Ari sat and closed her eyes.
She had to get her mind off her flight. One thing that might be aggravating her fear of flying was the knowledge that what she was doing was forbidden by UEO mandate and United States law. Ordinary citizens were forbidden to enter territory held by the so-called Macronesian Alliance, and UEO officers, especially those who had had access to classified secrets were doubly denied. If her destination were known, she could be arrested and tried for treason.
Firmly, she turned her mind away from that, thinking instead of Miguel as she'd last remembered seeing him, the two of them working some routine maintenance on an underwater sensor satellite attached to the seaQuest. That had been ten years ago. Ten years lost because some alien race decided to kidnap the submarine for use in their civil war. Lost, but not lived.
The seaQuest had turned the tide of the battle, and the side that had won had been properly grateful. It had been a sacrifice move, and all of them had been lost in the play, but, using stolen technology, the aliens had been able to revive most of the ship's crew. Most, but not all. And that was where the pain began. Because they hadn't even had the sense to return them to the place they'd stolen them from. In a warped desire to reward the crew that had won the victory for them, the Hyperions had placed each person down on earth at the site of their last peaceful thought before 'dying', without any memory of where they'd been or how they'd gotten there. And because they didn't approve of war, since their own was won, they'd put the submarine in the middle of a continent.
Slowly, the crew had collected from the far corners of the earth, only learning who would not return by their absence. The one man who still remembered their stay on the alien planet didn't even care enough to give a list of those who had been unrevivable, and, most painful of all, no one cared. They didn't even care that friends, and more than friends, were absent.
None of them except Ari.
But then, for her, most of the missing were not absent. For her, the seaQuest was a ghost ship, haunted by the spirits of mangled friends. For almost a month, she could see them, hear them, and, at times, relive their death agonies as they were burned, crushed, pierced. She experienced Miguel's death by drowning, reliving his dying thoughts. And then, she'd experienced her own.
With the help of a polynesian shaman, a refugee from Macronesia, she managed to lay the spirits of the seaQuest dead, descending into Hades, facing the three headed dog guarding the portals of darkness and even meeting her own uncle, who'd died shortly before the kidnapping. But she hadn't met Miguel. She hadn't been able to touch his spirit at all. She hadn't been able to say goodbye.
Grieving and heartbroken, she'd given up then. She woke up to find herself in a Florida hospital, temporarily relieved of duty until she was well enough to be reassigned. Among her visitors had been Miguel's mother.
It had been difficult to face the woman whose son she had loved so much. She told her about Miguel's last minutes. How bravely he'd fought to safeguard Earth. How he'd thought of his mother and sisters, praying that God would watch over them since he couldn't. Ari hadn't told her of his very last thoughts, those were private moments, the first time that she and he had been intimate.
And that was when she knew, with a certainty beyond anything she'd every known, where he was.
They'd been on a picnic inside a grotto entered underwater. A grotto located on the coast of Australia, in the heart of Macronesia. A grotto with no other exit. And Ari knew that she had to get there before it was too late.
It was a simple matter for her to activate an alternate identity card. The ticket in her pocket was made out to Renee St. Paul, a French citizen employed by DeLeMar Underwater Industries. Ostensibly, she was going to Australia to look into the possibility of continuing some projects that were halted during the recent unrest. A brief stopover in Rio de Janiero to transfer to an airline that could travel into the interdicted territory, another at Tahiti for refueling and to let off passengers, then on to Australia. She'd be traveling ... No. She suppressed this train of thought as her stomach began to tighten again with apprehension.
Just then, her flight was called, and she gratefully joined the queue at the loading door.
The flight was uneventful. Managing to keep down some limon soda, Ari dared to nibble on a package of crackers as well, refusing anything heavier. Then, worn out from lack of sleep due to worry and a queasy stomach, for the first time in her life, she fell asleep on an airplane.
Doctor Hermanos stopped in front of the closed door, blocking entry to the uniform clad officer following him closely. He turned, trying once again to reason with his employer."She hasn't regained consciousness, yet. I want to wait until the sedative has worked its way out of her system before I give her the ..."
Supreme General Carlos Miguel interrupted imperiously, glaring at the hapless man. "You will do as I tell you, doctor! Or I will find someone else to head this hospital."
Reluctantly, the physician yielded, opening the door and standing aside so that the leader of the Amazonian Confederation could preceed him.
General Miguel had been a handsome man in his youth, with dark latin looks, snapping brown eyes, thick, straight hair. Even now, some traces of that remained, but twelve years of near absolute rule had left its mark on him. His eyes, almost piggish in the overly round face, gleamed with greedy satisfaction as they looked down on the unconscious Ari Adler. Turning his head, he snapped at the motionless doctor.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
Helplessly, Dr. Hermano tried one last time. "The sedative ... She's been out too long. If she's having some kind of reaction to the drug used ... If there's a drug interaction... I can't be responsible for the consequences. This could kill her. Or leave her sterile, unable to conceive or carry to term."
"You told me that the tests were positive," the general purred dangerously. Swallowing heavily, the doctor nodded. "Then do it! The sooner that bastard is dead, the sooner she can recover from the dishonor of having carried it."
He smiled, horribly, looking possessively down at the slight figure, a sheet covering the leg and arm restraints that he knew were there because he'd ordered them specifically.
"You'll not escape me easily this time," he murmured softly, his words meant only for the girl who could not hear them. "This time, you will make good on your promise to marry me. This time, I will not be so foolish as to refuse what I am offered."
He watched with satisfaction as the doctor bared one of the young woman's arms, swiped it with alcohol and inserted a needle. Slowly, he pushed the plunger down, and the liquid within entered her bloodstream, her own life's blood speeding its poison through her body.
Ari woke from one nightmare into another. She opened her eyes on a white room, sterile, antiseptic, impersonable. Another hospital room. For a second, she closed her eyes, groaning softly, then she tried to get up.Padded straps at her wrists and ankles stopped her, held her fast. Alarmed now, she tugged, trying to get free, but they held her fast. The door opened and she looked up and became very still.
General Miguel smiled beatifically at his captive.
"You're finally awake," he observed inanely. "It's about time. You had my medical staff worried, you know." Without waiting for an invitation, he walked in and sat in the one visitor's chair the room boasted, reaching over to touch her. Ari jerked her head away. Smiling and shaking his head slightly, he reached further and touched her hair, smoothing it down. He seemed pleased rather than otherwise with her reaction.
"I always knew you would be back," he told her softly, hitching himself closer and continuing to caress her hair. Ari shrank back as far as she could go, unable to avoid his touch. "After you left me last time, I had people dig up everything available about you, Lieutenant Adler." He laughed qietly, his eyes crinkling at her.
"Irene Adler. Renee St. Paul. One and the same. And to think that I actually believed you were the simple teacher of the handicapped that you pretended. You won't fool me that way again. I know all about you, Irene." He pronounced it properly, three syllables, air-ren-nay. She shuddered and his smile grew.
"I learned that you always honor your promises and you never give up. I thought that you were dead, you know. Lost with the seaQuest. I even married while you were gone. But as soon as I heard that the seaQuest was found, I knew you'd come back to me. And you have."
His face hardened and the hand that had been sliding down her cheek grabbed her face hard.
"Carrying another man's bastard!" he ground out, slapping her with his other hand hard enough for her to see stars. He turned her face and hit the other cheek, then captured one of the tears running down it on a careful finger, raising it to his lips and tasting her sorrow. His sensitive, mobile lips, incongruously attractive still, twitched into a gentle smile.
"But it doesn't matter. I know that you are mine. And there's nothing to worry about. I've already taken care of it. You don't need to worry about a thing."
Finally, she found her voice. It wavered, sounding very much unlike hers, as she asked, "What do you mean? What are you talking about? I'm not... I'm not pregnant."
General Miguel gave a low chuckle.
"You won't be for long," he promised. Holding her head still, he leaned forward and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth as she fought the intrusion. Releasing her, he stood up and headed for the door. He stopped just short of it and turned to face her again.
"I had hoped to be with you when you were transfered to the Residence, but some foolish people are protesting against the government and I must see to putting them down. Don't worry, querida. You will be well guarded." And he left.
Ari took a deep breath, fighting for calm. He was mad. He had to be. What did he mean, she wouldn't have worry about being pregnant. She wasn't pregnant. The only man she'd ever had sex with was Miguel and that once they'd used protection. Except for dreams. Since she'd been back, her unconscious had relived that experience over and over again as it struggled to come to terms with his loss. He was the only man she loved. The only man she'd ever been with either in the flesh or in her imagination.
Except for the dream she'd had just after she'd felt her own death. But that didn't really count. She'd been drunk on some weird brandy at the time and, anyway, it had been just another dream. A stupid, embarassing, irrelevant dream.
She heard one of the straps begin to rip when the door opened again. Dr. Hermano, pristine in his white coat and pants, supervised four big, burly soldiers as they wheeled the hospital gurney out of the room and down the hall, folding it up and slipping it into an armoured transport, Ari still secured on top. The four of them positioned themselves around her, sitting on the benches on either side, and the doors clanged shut behind them.
One of them made a suggestion in Portuguese, too fast for Ari to understand it, but his accompanying gesture made his meaning fairly plain. Another responded and leaned over, starting to pull the sheet off her with one hand while the other fumbled with his belt. Ari froze with terror, closing her eyes in the atavistic hope that it would all go away. Before she was too far uncovered though, a third reached over and stopped the lecherous soldier, saying, very slowly and with quiet emphasis, "Try it and you can kiss little Braulio goodbye." He added something about 'o Supremo' and 'singing soprano' for good measure.
Disgruntled, the other men leaned back. Ari hoped that the trip would end soon. Lying on her back, tied to a bed with four soldiers ogled her while the vehicle she was in rattled off to an unknown destination was not her idea of a good time. And the killer butterflies were back, worse than ever. With any luck, they'd settle down as soon as the car stopped moving, and once she found out where they were heading, she could start making a plan to escape.
The increasing agony in her midsection made it impossible for Ari to judge the passage of time. It could have been fifteen minutes after they'd started moving or three times that, but the car hit a particularly nasty bump, there was a loud noise and they went flying as it spun over. The cautious soldier threw himself on top of Ari as they rolled so that she and the gurney fell on top of him. Losing the battle, she began to retch, unable to bring anything up except foul bile. The man underneath her didn't react, but one of his fellow soldiers kicked at her.
The back doors flew open and she heard several shots then a gabble of speech that she was too miserable to try to understand. Rough hands pulled her out, bed and all, and dirty, bearded faces gazed down at her with rude sympathy as they undid the straps. They tried to stand her up, but the pain in her stomach flared up and she collapsed as one of them picked her up and carried her away.
There was a rush of sound from the overturned armored vehicle, a flash of heat and finally, the flicker of flames, warm on her face as the unknown men jogged away, Ari bumping over the shoulder of one.
She must have lost consciousness. The next thing she knew, she was on a bloody blanket in a corner of a dark and dirty room. A group of men and women clustered around a table in the middle, lit by candles, examining something on the surface and arguing. One, the one not tryng to make himself heard, raised his head as Ari sat up, looking around. Leaving the others, he went over.
"You're awake."
Dumbly she nodded. The man turned and gestured and a young, pretty woman brought a cup of hot liquid over. Ari accepted it gratefully and sipped the thick broth slowly while the man watched her. She studied him as well, trying to pin down the sense of familiarity.
"You are Renee St. John?" he asked. After a pause, she nodded. "Do you know why the supreme pig kidnapped you from the airport?"
Ari shook her head, asking, "Did he?"
"Yes. According to the news accounts, you were in a coma and you have died in the hospital. Due to some bureaucratic mix-up, your body has been cremated. But now I see that you are here and don't look even the slightest bit charred. And I have to wonder why? Why would General Miguel risk an international incident to get you?"
Ari sighed, putting down the half empty cup and leaning back, wincing a little with the pain in her gut. She wondered if there was poison in the soup, but she'd seen the woman pour it from a common pot. Putting that fear away, she tried to remember everything she knew about Brazil, ten years out of date, and mostly learned from Miguel after her own adventure with the General. And then she knew why she recognized the man.
Her eyes opened wide, staring at his face with stunned surprise.
"You're Malique, Miguel's friend," she blurted out, then cursed herself quietly for acting so precipitously.
He nodded, suspicion in his face.
"I'm Malique," he admitted. "But I know many Miguels, including that pig of a general. So which one claims me for a friend."
Ari caught her breath. She shouldn't break cover, but she had to win his trust if he was to help her get away from the authorities. She decided to trust him. Miguel had.
"Miguel Ortiz of the seaQuest. He showed me your picture a while ago. Of course, you were twelve years younger then, but still, it was you. He told me all about what you two did."
Malique's mouth twisted up with pain and disgust.
"Miguel Ortiz. Well, that's a safe call since he's dead and can't contradict you." He leaned forward, grabbing a handful of hair and forcing her head back as he pushed his face into hers. "In case you haven't heard, the seaQuest disappeared with all hands ten years ago."
"She was found a few weeks ago in a field in Wisconsin. Hadn't you heard? Most of her crew appeared afterwards, in various places around the world."
He glared at her, his eyes narrowed as he sifted through her words.
"And Miguel?"
Ari shook her head, fighting back tears.
"He didn't show up, but he's not dead. He's just... he can't get out of where he is. I've got to go let him out. Please, if I don't hurry, he could die. I have to get to him."
Her obvious distress satisfied some of Malique's doubts, but not all. He was preparing to ask her more questions when there was a flurry of activity and a professional looking woman appeared, carrying a bag.
"Dr. Sapfira. This is the tourist we found. She's been bleeding badly."
Ari looked around herself with surprise, only now aware that the bright red blood staining the blanket was hers. Dr. Sapfira shooed Malique away and began her examination, pressing Ari back gently and starting to undo her pants. She looked over her shoulder toward the table, rapping out a series of commands in rapid fire Portuguese. A short time later, the corner was partioned off from the rest of the room by hanging sheets and blankets and Ari was wearing a loose, unbuttoned shift, while the doctor examined her, probing her stomach and groin with professional detachment.
It hurt. Bad. And the pain was increasing again,. Finally, satisfied, the doctor rocked up onto her feet and stood, calling out for a bowl of wash water. She looked down on Ari and shook her head sadly.
"I'm afraid that you are losing the baby," she said in English. Ari blinked, dumbly shaking her head. "I'm sorry."
"No. That's not possible. There is no baby. I'm not pregnant. I can't be pregnant." Suddenly, she understood and relief made her giddy. Starting to laugh, she tried to explain.
"It's... I had a bad implant removed a few months ago. I'm not... It's just my first menses in five years. I'm not .... There is no baby." Tears sprang into her eyes at the thought of how silly the doctor must feel. And General Miguel.
She said the name aloud, and silence fell. Malique thrust a sheet aside, glaring down at her. After one outraged gasp, Ari started fumbling iwth the buttons on the shift.
"What about General Miguel?" he asked coldly.
"Nothing. Except that he thought I was with child as well. He told me that he was going to take care of it, that I didn't have to worry about it. Stupid." She frowned, remembering. "No. He said that he'd already taken care of ..." A spasm doubled her up, crying out with the pain. Malique caught her before she fell. He and the doctor talked for a moment and Ari understood the gist that the doctor thought she was miscarrying, and that she needed a warm quiet place until it was over. Malique protested that she was nothing to them.
The discussion was interrupted by a runner, bursting into the room, yelling, "He's invading the favelas! Run! The army is invading!"
Hurried curses answered him as the rebels grabbed up what they could and left. Malique lunged forward and lifted Ari up, half carrying, half dragging her out. The doctor had been one of the first to go.
"Where... ? Where are you taking me?" she asked breathlessly.
"Somewhere safe," he answered cryptically, saving his own breath for escape.
She could hear the sounds of someone following. Coldly, she realized that they could not both get away. Without her, Malique had a chance. With her, he would die a traitors death.
"Leave me," she gasped. "If the general wants me, he won't harm me. And if Miguel is dead, I don't want to live. So leave me."
But Malique refused, trying to lose the tail in the confused alleys of the slum town. Ari wanted to applaud his bravery, but she was just too tired. Using some tricks Brody had taught her, she kicked and hit him until he dropped her, rolling away so that he couldn't easily pick her up again and screaming, "GO! JUST LEAVE ME!"
For a moment, she was afraid that he wouldn't do as she said, but then, looking around rapidly, he ran off. Alone for the moment, Ari drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them close and waited. And blood mixed with the dirt underneath.
Chapter 2
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