Olivia's Decision Read online

  "What is it?" Olivia frowned.

  "How long has this illicit transportation of BloodDark art works and artifacts to Earth been occurring?"

  "It's hard to say for certain, but for several months at the very least."

  He jumped to his feet. "Olivia, come with me."

  "Yes, sir."

  Olivia had to jog to keep up with the academic who possessed the speed and stamina of a human being half his apparent age. They traveled through a maze of back hallways and narrow staircases which Olivia hadn't realized existed before now. Some pretend servant she’d turned out to be!

  They reached the ground floor behind the residence hall and headed into a utilities tunnel linking the kitchens of the main building to the feasting hall. Olivia had been in the feasting hall once, the night of her attempted escape from the Pure Blood jail. She, Hernando and Valori had been sentenced to hard labor on the Clan Alpha's farm in the Penumbra Zone for her crime. She hadn't had much time to scope out the full size of the party facilities then, but she sensed it would make for a large space, almost cavernous, if the side rooms and the large stage for the musicians had been gutted.

  She furrowed her brow as she tried to recall her memory of the place. The feasting hall had been decorated with BloodDark tapestries, Renaissance-styled furniture and well-lit. It hadn't appeared in too poor of a condition, either.

  "You say the feasting hall has been undergoing renovations for several time cycles?" Olivia asked. She gasped for air as they hurried along the narrow, dimly-lit tunnel from the kitchens to the hall. "Have any clan members questioned why it was to be refurbished at all?”

  Mahvet shook his head. "A few did question the wisdom of it at first. Moreau's father and uncle silenced those voices with a threat they'd not have access to the new bonding-partners from Earth if they kept asking about the hall. That quieted them down."

  "Withholding possible mates?" Olivia grimaced. "How nice. Nothing kills dissent faster than saying you'll be a bachelor or bachelorette for life."

  "On a world like ours with few intelligent beings to bond with, it's a very harsh threat indeed." Mahvet stopped in front of a large door and tried the handle. "It appears to be locked. I didn't think they'd bolt this lower entrance. It's for the servants and cooks to use when they bring food over from the residence during feasts. This only adds to my suspicions."

  "Mine, too." Olivia gulped. She felt a bit claustrophobic in the access tunnel and couldn't wait to get out of it. "Can we break the door down?"

  Mahvet placed an ear to the door's rough wooden surface. "I don't hear any activity on the other side. Perhaps we should—but quietly, just in case."

  "Is there any way to pick the lock?"

  "Pick the lock?" He pursed his lips and scratched his chin, tugging at his goatee. "I assumed it was an electronic lock, but it could very well be a simple mechanical one. They would not imagine lowly servants would understand how to pick a mechanical lock, so why waste time and resources on an expensive electronic device?"

  Olivia approached the handle and jiggled it. "Ha, this feels like our basement door at home. It's mechanical all right, and very loose. If I had a business card or a small slip of cardboard..." She reached into her jeans back pocket and pulled out a sturdy price tag with the company logo and washing directions on it. "I forget to take these off new clothes until I wash and wear them the first time. They stick so many tags on jeans."

  She got down on her knees in front of the door handle and slipped the piece of card into the thin gap between the bolt and the doorjamb. Within a few minutes, she had sprung the lock, and the heavy door swung open.

  "You first." She stepped aside, nervous at the thought of whom or what might greet them on the other side.

  "All right. It's okay, Olivia. I will not allow them to harm you or my Kate. Follow me." Mahvet stood tall and strode into the pitch-black darkness.

  Chapter Five

  "It's... it's not quite what I expected."

  Olivia blinked, trying hard to focus in the poorly-lit celebration hall. She turned around, trying to get her bearings from the small kitchen door they had entered from the tunnel access staircase. They'd ignited several decorative torches affixed by sconces along the long walls, but now the chamber was cloaked in long shadows cast by the flickering flames. Mahvet, however, was more familiar with the layout, and took a confident stroll about the room.

  Gone were the benches, chairs, and long tables she recalled from her one visit to the grand gathering place. She had been called the guest of honor at their "feast" then. Thanks to Hernando, she knew it meant her blood was to be the main course, a special treat to perk up the clan's lagging energy. The feasting hall had been crowded with Pure Bloods parading about in their high fashion then, laughing and showing off to each other. Now it stood empty except for a fragile-looking tripod scaffold structure, soaring upward in the center of the room.

  The beam transmitting unit suspended above a small staging area mimicked the much more imposing Portal which had transported her from Earth to BloodDark and back again several times now. This replica was, at most, a quarter of the original Portal's size. Small control panels scattered about the scaffolding appeared to be the computational processors necessary to calculate the direction and duration of the beam. Olivia doubted somehow they were anywhere near as efficient as the main Portal unit's computers. Its control center of computers and consoles filled a room at least half the size of this hall.

  "You were thinking it would be larger?" Mahvet chuckled. "Considering they were working with what parts they could scavenge and working covertly, you have to admit my fellow clan members are quite industrious and innovative."

  "I don't doubt their intelligence for a moment. It's their morality I find suspect." Olivia wound her way through the maze of control panels and computer units to the staging area, curious to know if any clues to what they had last transported to Earth remained. "It takes quite a bit of space to safely beam objects, or so this layout suggests. Don't they need a hole in the roof as well?"

  She looked upward, then bent to examine a black spot on the stage floor. It looked like a scorch mark. She reached out to touch it.

  Mahvet rushed to her side and took her by the arm. "Stop. Don't touch anything. It could be booby-trapped. Look." He nodded toward the three-storey high ceiling. "See that small skylight? It's more than wide enough to allow the beam to pass."

  Olivia stood and tilted her head back, noting several more scorch marks scattered around the diamond-shaped window. "Ah, but they experienced some trouble getting the beam through it at first. Wonder what happens to the object being beamed into space if it hits a ceiling on its way to Earth?"

  Mahvet grimaced. "If it's an inanimate object, it might arrive slightly dented or squashed. If it's alive..." He shuddered. "You don't want to know."

  His reaction intrigued her. "Did you study to become a Portal technician, Mahvet?"

  He shook his head. "I thought about it, but after a few introductory classes I decided transdimensional, electro-magnetic, geospatial engineering was not my strength. I know enough to know I don't know enough to build or operate a machine of this complexity. There are very few who possess this level of knowledge in any of the clans, and they are growing fewer by the day. It's one reason why we need to..." He paused and held up his hands. "Never mind."

  Mind. Suddenly Olivia “saw” the reason why Mahvet had stopped in mid-sentence, reading long-suppressed thoughts he had pushed deep into his subconscious. Yours is a dying race. The DNA transfers can only do so much. You aren't able to reproduce at a fast-enough rate to avoid total extinction in a matter of a generations. Your sole hope is to gain fresh blood from Earth and to find a cure for whatever it is that’s causing your kind to die out.

  "So. There aren’t many who know how to use this kind of machine, or how to build it?" she asked, trying to sound optimistic. "Hmm, it should eliminate a lot of potential suspects. I can see why they only attempt to transport artworks and
not people now. Let the people stay in one piece and travel through the established Portal with its failsafe mechanisms. If you ding a vase or crumple a painting, it could be fixed on the other side. Or not—the wear and tear could make it worth more as an antique."

  "An antique?" He pursed his lips. "I have come across this word in Earth literature. It's a very odd concept. Very old things used a long time ago are called antique. Correct?"

  "That's right."

  "Then I am an antique—or perhaps I'd be better termed an antiquity." There was a twinkle in his dark eyes. "Do you know how old I am, young Olivia?"

  She was horrible at guessing ages. She hated to insult him, so she went with a low number. "I'd say you were about thirty-five? Am I close?"

  His laughter echoed off the hard surface of the empty walls. "Very good. I stopped aging outwardly around age forty Earth years, but I'm much older than forty. Most Pure Bloods are."

  Including Moreau? Olivia gulped. Moreau appeared to be about twenty, but if Mahvet was a lot older than the forty years he appeared to be... No wonder they were able to create such sophisticated technology. They could study a problem and experiment with various solutions for decades – centuries, even.

  "Mahvet, could this rogue Portal device be an antique as well? Something your ancestors stored away for a rainy day maybe?"

  "Rain?" His puzzled expression was priceless. "Ah, liquid precipitation, you mean? It's been many, many cycles since we had much rain here in BloodDark City. I think you're correct in assuming this device wasn't constructed recently. Some of the components do remind me of some electrical conduits I recall coming from our home world."

  If he remembers where they came from originally, then he's got to be really, really old. Olivia plastered a smile on her face, trying not to show her surprise and fear. Pure Bloods living for centuries or more... What wouldn't humans do to gain this fountain of youth?

  Her subconscious answered her own question. Humans would buy and sell stolen artworks and promise the Alphans whatever they desired if they'd agree to share their secrets of eternal life.

  "Who in Clan Alpha would know where to look for these antique components, and how to put them together and use them?" she blurted. No time for niceties. She needed to get this information back to Annara and the security forces so they could arrest the renegade Alphans.

  Mahvet frowned. "Only the oldest, most trusted among our leaders have access to the sacred records and relics of our people, but they'd never do anything like this. It's forbidden. No, never."

  Olivia shifted her weight to the balls of her feet. "Uh, I hate to tell you, but they've been sending some of your sacred relics to Earth using this very device. You ever hear of balits? Small, roundish dark stones? Ambassador Hernando spotted a few of them in a museum on Earth."

  "He what?" Mahvet's voice went up the scale with indignation. "He's not a Pure Blood. What was he doing with balits on Earth?"

  She winced at the vehemence of his words. The professor's calm exterior had vanished right before her eyes. No doubt, the selling of sacred items to aliens was an inexcusable offense to the Pure Bloods.

  "Hernando did not bring the balits to Earth himself," she said in her most soothing tone. "We found out later they'd been purchased by a very wealthy businessman named Roland Grundfest and loaned to the museum. They're safe and being cared for by experts for the time being, if it helps you feel better."

  Olivia could have sworn she could see angry steam pouring from the normally kind and patient professor's ears. He stomped about the rogue Portal, unable to hide his rage. She cringed, but she knew she had to drive the point home to gain his cooperation.

  "Look, I'm sorry if it upsets you, but someone from your house had to have sold the balits to Grundfest. There's no record of them traveling through official channels, so someone must have used this device to transport them. There's no other way they could have gotten to Earth."

  Mahvet swung his arms at a control panel. She dashed over just in time to stop his fist from connecting with it.

  "Please, professor! Remember, they might have a security device set to alert them if anybody touches it."

  He took a long breath and pulled back. "You're right. We should go now. I'm not sure I can hold back my desire to wreak vengeance against the sacrilege my kinsmen have committed."

  She nodded. "Good idea. We leave the way we came in?"

  "Or the way we came in."

  Olivia spun around at the sound of Moreau's smug, self-assured voice coming from the feasting hall's main entrance. "You!" she spat at him. "I should have known you were involved in this."

  "Hello, Olivia. Hello, Mahvet. I see you've discovered where we're keeping our insurance policy." With a casual toss of his blond hair over his shoulder, Moreau broke away from the pack and strode to her side. Olivia recognized his father and uncles among the Pure Bloods standing next to the large double doors, along with a half-dozen beefy Overseers. "Insurance policy is the correct term, isn't it?"

  "Probably. Who are you paying your premiums to? It wouldn't be Roland Grundfest by chance, would it?"

  Moreau froze. His eyes narrowed. "How do you know the name?"

  So, she had something on Golden Boy? She'd better make good use of it. She took a step toward him, hands on hips. "Dear ol' Roland? You could say Mr. Grundfest is a friend of mine. He invited us over for drinks at his palatial home in the Hamptons recently—even flew us there in our very own jet."

  Olivia bit her lip to keep from laughing. Poor Moreau furrowed his pale forehead, confused at her odd confession. It was obvious—no one was supposed to know the Alphans had an exclusive deal running with a human businessman. Why did the Alphans think Grundfest wouldn't give their relationship away? The billionaire was known for his extravagant gestures and hot-headed temper tantrums. His often foolish antics and childish tweets moaning about his competitors made the news almost daily. The Alphans couldn't be so naïve as to believe Roland Grundfest could be trusted.

  Ah, but Pure Bloods don't receive our newscasts or have access to the internet. They don't realize what a stupid deal they made with Grundfest. Should I enlighten them or let them suffer for it?

  Keep your thoughts neutral, Olivia, Valori's voice instructed. I can't block all thoughts, all the time, particularly emotional ones. Stay with Moreau and the others. I'll be there soon.

  "You and your family are a disgrace to Clan Alpha," Mahvet roared. He crossed the room to stand eye to eye with Moreau. "You sully our clan's sacred honor by selling our cherished relics, and for what? To accumulate useless wealth on another world?"

  Moreau tossed his head back, his golden hair bouncing about his shoulders as he shook with laughter. "Better to have wealth on two worlds than nothing on one. Right, eh, Mahvet? You of all people should know how much we Alphans have struggled to get where we are today. The least of the clans on BloodDark in the dawning times—the brunt of jokes as we crawled and scraped our way up from the bottom tiers of society to simply survive, but now..." His cobalt eyes glowed with pure arrogance. "We have the power. We have the ability to rule two worlds."

  Mahvet looked askance at the younger Pure Blood. "To rule as tyrants? Yes, we deserve to die as a species so others more worthy can flourish."

  Moreau grimaced. He leveled a harsh gaze upon the much shorter professor, trying his best to intimidate him. "Mahvet, consider yourself fortunate to be a part of our clan. Take back your words and all will be forgiven."

  "Never!"

  Olivia blinked. Mahvet's open defiance and bravery astonished her. Maybe there was hope for Pure Blood kind after all?

  "Bravo, professor." She clapped. "Yours is a spirit of honor and courage. I think the ruling council could use someone like you on their governance committee. Your insights would be invaluable in deciding how best to build a fair and equitable world for all the inhabitants of BloodDark."

  "Fair?" Moreau spat the word out. "You mean allowing half-breeds and inferior humans to have power over our noble
race? Deep down, Mahvet doesn't really mean what he says. He's been influenced by reading too much human philosophy and history. He'll soon get over it once the feasting at this hall begins again and we are—"

  "The feasting will not begin again until I give my blessing," Valori interrupted.

  For a second Olivia thought her friend's voice had sounded in her head until Moreau turned to glare in the direction of the main entrance doors. Olivia let out a long-held breath and smiled at Mahvet. "At last. The cavalry has arrived."

  Valori stepped aside to allow Annara and a dozen security officers to pass into the chamber. All of them bore handguns of BloodDark manufacture. Moreau's kin stiffened, poised to attack, but stopped as Annara gave them a nasty grin.

  "I wouldn't try anything, gentlemen,” Annara said. "Our weapons are loaded with deathwood rounds.” Her gaze hardened. "They'll make a hole in you the size of your head.”

  The Pure Bloods stood down, anger and fear mixing on their faces as they allowed the security officers to cuff their wrists and lead them out of the hall.

  "You are not yet our high priestess," Moreau taunted her. "Your tricks cannot force us to elevate you, a mere servant of dubious heritage, to become our chief spiritual guide."

  Valori stopped in front of Moreau and shook her head. "Silly boy. I don't perform tricks. I perform magic. Watch and learn."

  Olivia watched with fascination as Valori bowed her head, closed her eyes and concentrated. The room began to tremble. The tremors were slight at first, and then came on stronger and with greater intensity. The Pure Bloods screamed almost in unison.

  "What is it?" Mahvet gasped. His pale angular face turned whiter still.

  Olivia put her hands on her knees to hold herself upright. "It's an earthquake or planet-quake, rather. Either way, Valori is causing it." She grabbed Mahvet's hand and shouted, "Let's get out of this place before it crumbles and crashes in upon our heads."