Justine paced before the closed bay door, her arms wrapped around her waist, and her gaze down. Conflicting sensations slammed her sensibilities like gladiators at an OldEarth blood sport. I’ll kill him! No, I’ll interrogate him first. Find out how he did it. Then I’ll—
Yelsa tapped her shoulder. “You ready?”
Suppressing the urge to break the innocent Bhuac’s arm for intruding on her vivid method of chosen torture, Justine seared the woman with her glare. “Can I head down now?”
Unperturbed, Yelsa stepped aside. “The transport is ready, but Bala is still making arrangements with Simms’ docking bay. You ever heard of the guy? Apparently, he’s managed to direct all Newearth traffic to his personal empire.” She smirked, amused by human foolishness. “Chaos has been great for the man’s business.”
Justine’s body clenched. Ignoring Yelsa, she ran Simms’ personal file before her eyes once again.
A human in his thirties, Simms appeared to be an ordinary man, though the facts hummed a different tune. He paraded his well-toned body in a yellow shirt and brick-red pants most men would have sense enough to shy away from. With high-quality replacement parts to make an Ingot proud, he didn’t really need all the jewelry he sported, screaming devotion to youth, wealth, and power. His cultish obsessions were obvious.
If he hadn’t put Zara into a coma, she’d shrug his existence off as a gadfly flittering about Newearth with no particular advantages except his business acumen. His antipathy against Cerulean made him stupid, not dangerous. But his actions against Zara made him a target of her wrath.
The bay door slid open, revealing the entranceway to a small shuttle.
Yelsa stepped in front and lifted her hand. “Let me check things on this end before you fly off. Besides, Bala would kill us both if you left without him. He’s as worried about his wife and kids as you are about Zara.”
Justine clipped her words. “I know how to fly a shuttle. I’ve been working longer than you’ve been alive.”
Yelsa shook her head. “Parenting must blind people.” She scowled as she tromped ahead. “I’m not worried about you making it to the Newearth. I just want to make sure that you don’t set Cosmos in road rage, racing after you. Your flight plan better give it a wide birth. While you and Bala scurry home, I’m keeping an eye on her slow progress.” She strode to the main console. “Remember, it’s not just your kid on that planet. Every person on Newearth is someone’s kid.”
The only thing that held Justine’s arm in check was the fact that Yelsa happened to be right.
A. K. Frailey is the author of 15 books, a teacher for 35 years, and a homeschooling mother of 8.
Make the most of life’s journey.
For books by A. K. Frailey check out her Amazon Author Page
“I don’t think the author had any idea her story would be so prophetic when she wrote this. Very interesting with lovable, real characters.” ~Jamie
“a very richly told tale with vibrant characters” ~Marcus
Found guilty of war crimes, Justine Santana, a Human-Android hybrid is shut down. Her freedom hangs in the balance. Is she a woman—or a weapon?
“…delightfully, yet seriously, points to the great value in simply being human.” ~Kaye