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  He settled into his hover chair, bringing up the leg rest and taking its temperature down a couple of degrees for comfort. He sighed and started to read about the newly created AED – atmosphere establishing device – that would be part of the first steps of creating Earth Two.

  He’d no sooner brought up the specifications when he heard the sound of the front door’s announce. Nur’s voice drifted to him and a lighter, female voice responded. Falinset froze.

  She didn’t dare come here, not after last time. Falinset had made it abundantly clear she was no longer welcome in his home.

  Yet the light footsteps coming down the hall were not Nur’s tread. As Falinset’s mother Feyom breezed into the room as if she thought herself a wanted guest, Falinset rose to his feet. He did not bow however, purposely insulting her.

  Feyom wasn’t looking at him anyway. As usual she took in the state of his office, the well-made but secondhand furnishings Nur had gleefully collected, the computer with its multiple readouts hovering in the air over the cluttered desk, and the large window vids that afforded Falinset of the many views of woods and dunes and trails surrounding his home. The way her nose wrinkled said Feyom was not impressed.

  With a long-suffering sigh, she finally turned her gaze to her son. She was greeted by his glare. It was her turn to freeze, a moment of unease flickering in her eyes before she switched to the cold expression Falinset knew all too well.

  As if they hadn’t parted with shouts the last time, she gave him a put-out tone. “Well, my son. No greeting for your mother?”

  “Hello. Now goodbye,” he bit out.

  She rolled her eyes. Instead of getting the hell out of his life as he wanted her to, Feyom sank daintily in the overstuffed seat in front of his desk. She didn’t so much sit as float down.

  Graceful. Stunning in her aloof manner. As usual Falinset had to marvel at how a despicable creature like Feyom could present such a lovely front. His anger surged at himself for admiring the image she projected despite knowing what the woman was.

  She gazed up at him, her confidence in her unassailability as a rare Kalquorian Matara firmly in place. She sniffed at his offense. “After all your fathers and I paid for tutors and manservants to raise you with some notion of decorum—”

  Falinset spat out, “They aren’t my fathers, and you’ve never paid for anything in your life. I owe you nothing. Get out.”

  She waved her hand, uncaring as ever. “Fine. We’ll be frank. You owe your real father more than my clanmates anyway. And yes, you do owe him.”

  As her gaze settled on his vid screens detailing his potential new investment project, Falinset moved quickly to turn them all off. What Feyom lacked in intelligence and decency, she more than made up for in craftiness. He didn’t want her getting the slightest whiff of his successes. In fact, he didn’t want her getting a taste of any of his life, a life he was determined to live outside her influence.

  With the vid feeds no longer floating above his desk, he leaned across its surface to confront her. “And what do I owe him? Tell me one damned thing I owe Dramok Maf.”

  She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Your loyalty, at the very least. He got you that scholarship after your basic schooling.”

  “He was on the grant board and I never asked for it. I didn’t even know he was my biological father at the time,” Falinset countered.

  “He still got it for you, along with an apprenticeship that anyone else could have only dreamed of.”

  “He blackmailed the hell out of Dramok Trab to get him to take me on.”

  “It was he who smoothed your way when you wanted those first loans to start your own investment business.”

  “I repaid those loans with my own hard work.” That had been the first order of business when Falinset began to see a profit.

  Feyom would not relent. “Maf arranged high-status clanships with your Imdiko and Nobek.”

  Falinset’s lip curled, real hostility filling his voice. “He blackmailed their parents into offering them. He continues to blackmail them to get what he wants. The first year of being clanned to Wekniz and Nur, I thought my own lifemates might murder me in my sleep in retribution.”

  Being heartless herself, Feyom had no care for whether or not Falinset’s clanmates were happy to be with him. She discarded his words like she did the many men she’d slept with ... with the exception of Dramok Maf.

  Instead, she switched tactics. “Maf bought property next to yours years ago, forever in the hope that he could develop a relationship with his only child. You mean so much to him. He wants a real relationship.”

  “Which he’s tried to foster through buying and blackmailing his way to my heart.” Falinset straightened, wanting to put as much distance between him and Feyom as possible. “Despite all his and your efforts, I’ve managed to achieve what I can fairly and without hurting everyone around me. Once and for all, I owe neither you nor Dramok Maf anything. You are not welcome in my life – either of you. Take that message to him.”

  At the finality in his tone, Feyom unfolded her body from the seat. She brushed off the back of her gown as if expecting to find dirt clinging to her. Then she approached the desk, closing the distance between them.

  Her eyes glittering, she said, “Things are changing in the Empire. The very foundations are crumbling beneath the Imperial Clan and Royal Council. Men like Maf will rule. You would do well to cleave to your blood while you still have the opportunity.”

  Feyom had always been attracted to power. It was the one thing she truly loved, Falinset thought. She gravitated to men with it, she seduced them so she could wield her power over them, and then she tossed them aside when she’d gotten everything from them their power afforded.

  Yet again she’d resumed her on-again, off-again relationship with Maf. The Dramok must have had something tasty in reserve after giving up his seat in the Royal Council, Falinset thought. He narrowed his gaze at Feyom as he thought over her last comment. “So is Maf in league with the Basma? Is that what you’re saying?”

  She smirked. “I am saying you need to get over your hurt feelings and accept who you are. You could go far in the revolt, my son. All you need is a little guidance.”

  Falinset uttered a cruel laugh. “Ah, so now you’re a revolutionary. Is that why you’re still playing with Maf? Is he your stepping stone to becoming the next Empress of Kalquor? Or are you in it just so you can add the Basma to the long list of men you’ve fucked?”

  He knew the slap was coming, but the crack of Feyom’s palm against his jaw still rocked his head a little. His hateful smile never faltered for an instant, however.

  He waved to the door. “I think you know your way out, Matara Feyom. “

  Fuming, she turned on her heel and hurried out, her head held high but her face burning red. Falinset listened until he heard the front door open and close. Only then did his knotted shoulders relax.

  He stood quiet for a few moments, his head bowed and eyes closed. Falinset concentrated on his breath, letting his heart rate slow and anger dissipate.

  Would Feyom and Maf ever leave him alone? He had brought his clan to Lobam in an attempt to escape them, along with the three men he’d thought were his fathers for most of his youth. Though Feyom’s clanmates had been good to him, Falinset was angry with them. They allowed Feyom to behave dishonorably, turning blind eyes to her many dalliances and affairs. As far as he was concerned, they shared equally in her shame. He could no longer call them fathers even though they’d raised him as their son.

  Falinset heard a single pair of footsteps enter the room. He guessed both of his clanmates had entered, however. As a Nobek, it was second nature to Wekniz to move silently.

  Falinset opened his eyes and raised his head. Both men had indeed come into the room. They stood shoulder to shoulder, one face worried and the other suspicious.

  Nur spoke in a soothing tone that was as much of an instinct to him as Wekniz’s silent tread. “We thought you’d rather deal with
Feyom alone. Were we right to stay out? More importantly, was I right to let her in?”

  Falinset managed a smile for his Imdiko. Of the three, Nur had the best claim on good looks, though he often claimed no one could call him handsome. He claimed his facial structure was too aggressive with its strong features. Having broad facial characteristics himself, particularly a large jaw, Falinset thought Nur looked perfectly fine. As always, the Imdiko’s jet black hair was styled in a flattering style, accentuating a clear brow and well-shaped cheekbones. His body was masculine without being bulky with a trim, toned frame. His eyes were bright with intelligence, and a caring nature shone forth on his face. When he laughed, which was far too seldom, Falinset saw nothing but beauty in his clanmate.

  The Dramok had told Feyom that he’d once feared his clanmates would kill him in his sleep. It had been true, especially in Nur’s case. Imdiko he might be, but the man was no pushover. In anger, he was a sheer force of nature. Fortunately, the days of being at odds with each other were far behind them now. Now there was only love between the three.

  Falinset told Nur, “Feyom would have kept hitting the announce until someone did let her in. As for staying out of her presence, I’m glad you did. The last thing I want is for her to get her digs in on you two.”

  Nur grimaced. “She already has us. Well, Maf does anyway.”

  Wekniz growled, “If only she was a man and Maf not a cripple. Then I could honorably beat the shit out of both of them.”

  When Wekniz scowled as he did now, he looked ready to kill. The stretched skin dragging at the corner of his left eye and mouth, scars from the burns that had nearly killed him several years ago, made the Nobek look malevolent to most even when he wasn’t angry. The raised lumpy skin of the cheek and jaw on that side of his face added to the ferocious look. More damaged skin ran down Wekniz’s neck, extending down to the shoulder and chest hidden beneath the Nobek’s loose-fitting shirt.

  Falinset could not say he didn’t see Wekniz’s scars, but they held no horror for him. To the clan leader, his Nobek looked more brave and noble with them. Knowing what Wekniz had gone through, saving lives in the midst of a raging inferno, only intensified that notion. Falinset thought he preferred the marked left side more than the unscarred, handsome right.

  Falinset offered his noble Nobek a grim smile. “Why worry ourselves about honor at this point? They’ve made it so we’re well beyond that. Go ahead and pound Feyom and Maf with my blessing.”

  Nur came close to sit on Falinset’s desk. He scowled. “We have honor. We are not our parent clans. Or our biological parents.” He lifted a perfectly arched brow at Falinset.

  Falinset woofed out a breath, his large jaw tensing. “We’re still suspect if our parents’ misdeeds are ever discovered. I keep thinking about how good it would be to pick up and leave the Empire. Just get out for good.”

  Wekniz’s rumble was comforting even as he reminded Falinset, “We can’t outrun all of it.”

  “Particularly not Maf’s latest scheme. Feyom hinted strongly that he may be aligning himself with the Basma in this rebellion craziness.”

  Nur’s mouth dropped open in shock. “By the ancestors, is he mad?” On the heels of that statement, he found a note of hope. “Maybe we can turn that to our advantage. We could report your suspicions to the authorities.”

  Now it was Falinset’s turn to remind someone of unpleasant facts. “And Maf will spill his guts about your parent clan’s drug deals and Wekniz’s fathers’ embezzlement of government contract funds along with stealing security secrets.”

  “If it was an anonymous tip—”

  Wekniz cut the Imdiko off. “Maf already said if he goes down for any reason, he’ll take everyone he can with him.”

  Falinset nodded his grim agreement. “He doesn’t have to know who called him out. He’ll retaliate against everyone he’s got under his thumb.”

  The old expressions of shame clouded his clanmates’ faces. Yet again Falinset silently cursed Maf for threatening everyone who had something he wanted and Feyom for not keeping her legs closed.

  His throat closing with the familiar fury of powerlessness, Falinset told the others, “We say not one word. I will have nothing to do with Maf as much as possible. Not to aid him, not to hinder him. We’ve carved out a decent life for ourselves by keeping him and his dealings at a distance. I see no reason to change that.”

  Wekniz eyed him speculatively. “What if it comes out he’s somehow helped the rebellion?”

  “Then we know nothing. Feyom did not come out and say anything definite about the matter anyway. For all I know, she was just spewing another of her many lies.”

  Falinset looked from one to the other. Wekniz and Nur. His Nobek and his Imdiko. The only people he would ever stick his neck out for, because the rest of the universe was a rotten cesspool of liars and schemers.

  He said decisively, “We have no allegiance to anyone outside our clan. Let the Empire continue or fall. It’s all the same to us. Right?”

  After a moment, Nur nodded reluctantly. Wekniz scowled again, but he came over and clapped a hand on the Dramok’s shoulder in agreement.

  They had each other. With their parents committing so many wrongs, it would have to be enough in their small, isolated world.

  Chapter 6

  Kalquor plunged into chaos after Princess Noelle was abducted. Rioting renewed in public areas as pro-Empire and pro-Basma demonstrators clashed. Martial law was declared to keep the peace, but trouble kept erupting anyway. Fires were set at government facilities and the homes of anti-government people alike.

  The Basma sent out a message to the Empire. Even with the revolt’s leader’s voice electronically altered, the glee he spoke with was clearly heard.

  “The first true blow against our impure, treasonous leaders has been struck. I have the princess, one of the half-breeds that would presume to lead our proud culture into infamy. She will be returned unharmed only when the Imperial Clan steps down and the Royal Council is disbanded.

  “Make no mistake; all Earther blood will be erased from the Empire whether by willing exile or force. We stand for the true Kalquorian, the real Kalquorian. The infestation that has elevated the usurpers over the common man will be eliminated. No Earther or hybrid will be allowed to sit on the thrones! Only Kalquorians shall rule over Kalquorians! Follow me, my brothers and sisters, to glorious victory!”

  All over the Empire, people were in shock. Many decried the victimization of a small child for political gain. Others said extreme times called for extreme measures. As long as Princess Noelle was safe and well-treated, the Basma had done no real harm. He had promised to show the people of Kalquor within the week proof that Noelle was all right. However, he was adamant that she, her mother, brother, and all who carried Earther blood must be removed from the Empire.

  With the home planet in so much turmoil, the Royal Council led by Councilman Terbal passed a resolution to keep the Imperial Family under heavy guard. Under Terbal’s leadership, several members of the council also tried to keep the Imperial Clan sequestered in their home ‘for their own safety’. That particular resolution was struck down when all three emperors and the empress made speeches against it.

  A grim-faced Dramok Emperor Clajak faced the council and the vid-connected Empire and said, “My clan does not bow to terrorism. That is what Kalquor faces, pure and simple. What we have is a man too cowardly to come out of the shadows, with followers as gutless and craven as he. Only weak, spineless cowards would kidnap a helpless child and the young woman looking after her. I spit at your so-called revolution because you dare not face us on an even battlefield. You victimize the helpless and call that a blow for your cause. You are no revolutionary. You are nothing but a frightened bully.

  “Let me make one thing clear, Basma. You will pay in blood for this attack on my daughter. We will hunt you down, and we will rip the flesh from your living bones as you scream for mercy.”

  The one major concession the
Imperial Clan did make was to pull Crown Prince Wayne from training camp. He was kept under close guard at all times. For the first time during Clan Clajak’s rule, guards stayed within their apartments around the clock.

  The Royal Guard did not provide that service. The entire force was under investigation. It had been during their watch that the princess and her cousin had disappeared. The disgrace was a huge blow to the organization. To be a member of the Royal Guard was among the greatest honors a Kalquorian could aspire to. That a member of their number had tried to abduct Empress Jessica a couple years prior was discussed at great length among Kalquorians. Had they been completely infiltrated? Were they under the exclusive command of the Basma? The rumors flew as investigators and interrogators began the work of discovering those who were no longer loyal.

  Global Security stepped in, providing personal security for the royals. Imperial Father Yuder had so recently been among their number that they were judged to be still loyal to the rulers. The heads of departments and Global Security’s executive administration were ruthless in their mission to guarantee that fidelity. They went as far as to record their officers’ every movement even when they were off duty.

  It was discovered that Matara Tasha had been served a drink laced with drugs. The Imdiko stylist who’d given it to her alerted investigators that he’d been put up to offering it by another stylist, Dramok Cral. Cral had disappeared the night of the princess’s abduction and no one had found the first trace of him.

  Another stunning development came when experts, looking for evidence of a cloaking device that may have been used to sneak the abductees away, found instead signs of disturbed electrical patterns in the nursery and on its balcony – a sign of alien phasing technology discovered a few years prior. Only a few military contractors had access to such technology, leading to mass raids by investigators.