The Tears of Alegia

By Christina Rush

With Earth and its far-flung colonies on the brink of civil war, alien artifact hunter Amelia Cross must find the fabled Tears of Alegia and keep them and the power they hold from falling into the wrong hands. Tracking the Tears to a frozen planet at the edge of colonized space, Mel and her reluctant team find themselves betrayed by the ruthless senator who hired her. Now, they must explore an ancient alien city to uncover the secret of the Tears and escape to tell the tale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christina Rush
• Release date: Jun 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9780985047412

Book preview

The Tears of Alegia

By Christina M. Rush

Copyright © 2013 Christina M. Rush

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return toSmashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

"Commander, we got passengers."

The voice of Lieutenant Shannon cracked over Casper’s comm as he dropped through the hole they’d cut in the transport’s hull. He frowned. Passengers? The Tipton was a deep space military freighter, not a personnel transport. Their contact in IEA space command had assured them that the ship would be carrying only one hundred million imus and a dozen guards to fend off pirates.

Casper stopped in the hatchway to the main hold. He counted twenty men and women in civilian clothes huddling against the bulkhead, watching Shannon and his three other men warily. An IEA sergeant was kneeling on the floor, his rifle lying against the wall.

The sergeant’s flinty gaze flicked from Lieutenant Shannon to him. He was a gaunt man with leathery skin in his early fifties. He looked like he’d seen his share of action. You in charge?

Casper met his gaze without answering. Where’s the money?

The sergeant laughed. There is no money, chief. He grinned and hooked a thumb toward the passengers. Just them. See we got a distress call from a research station on Brix. We were ordered to help evacuate the scientists, so we never made the pickup.

Motioning to two of his men, Casper said, Check it out. Had they been set up by their IEA contact or was this just bad luck? He supposed it didn’t really matter. They had already been reduced to piracy, now they would be labeled terrorists. That was a laugh. The same government that would now come after them was the one that had tried to strangle them into submission by cutting them off from galactic trade.

Worst of all, though, without the money they would’ve gotten from this mission, Sentinel and all the worlds that depended on it would die.

One of the men he’d sent to look popped his head back into the hold. There’s nothing, Commander.

Casper nodded and turned to Shannon. Let’s get back to the ship. There’s nothing here.

Shannon frowned, her eyes going to the sergeant and the passengers. What about them?

Casper snorted. Leave them. We’re not murderers. Despite whatever Senator Ainsley and his lackeys said. He scooped up the sergeant’s gun. Don’t try to follow us. If you do, we’ll blow you to dust.

He and Shannon backed through the hatchway and he hit the sensor panel, slamming it shut and locking it. He was about to motion his remaining men up the cargo netting they’d used to climb down when Shannon stopped him.

Wait. Look at that. She knelt in front of a small, open box near the back of a stack of supply crates. She reached in and lifted a small jewel encrusted pyramid out of the box. A solai data recorder. It’s beautiful. She turned it over in her hands, her eyes shining with excitement.

I know what it is, Lieutenant. Put it back. It’s not worth enough to be any use to us.

She looked at him and shook her head. No, sir, you don’t understand. This recorder belonged to a member of the Aratri Dynasty. It’s priceless.

He studied the glittering pyramid then looked at her. Are you sure?

I was a PhD candidate in art history at Cornell before I came to Sentinel. She ran her fingers over the jewels. Each stone represents a star and each dynasty was represented by a different constellation. This is definitely Aratri. The House of Aratri is the oldest known solai dynasty. We’ve only found a handful of artifacts from that time. She was really hitting her stride.

Casper held up a hand to stop her. Ah, you learn something every day, I guess. He nodded to the pyramid. Pack it up. At least, they’d gotten something out of this fiasco.

* * *

Hey, Mom, what did the vet say? Mel held the handheld close to her ear, so she could hear over the lunchtime crowd filling the diner and the television. InterSys News was showing footage from the attack on the Tipton by Sentinel separatists a month ago. She’d seen the footage four times now, and it had stopped being interesting. Besides, she had problems closer to home. She felt a swell of dread building in her stomach and threatening to become a monster wave. Sammy, sweet, ornery Sammy wasn’t eating and that was never a good thing in a cat. She’d asked her mother to take him to the vet, since she couldn’t miss her hearing before the medical review board.

Nothing yet. They ran some tests and sent him home. Her mother paused and heaved a sigh. Amazing how much one noisy breath could say. In this case, it said she had sacrificed all her morning for her daughter, putting her own life on hold for a silly errand, and didn’t want to burn the afternoon too. Mel could imagine her flipping through her day planner with her lips pressed into a peeved line. Will you be back soon, dear? I have to get my costumes packed and on the shuttle to Mars for the start of shooting tomorrow. Julian’s there but, you know how he is. He’ll never get the right ones if I’m not there to tell him what to do.

Mel rubbed her forehead and stifled a groan. They’re still deliberating. It could be a while. They should’ve called her back by now. The long wait couldn’t bode well for her.

Her mother sighed again, louder this time.

Mel rolled her eyes. Go ahead and do what you need to do.

I’m sure it’ll be fine, dear, she sounded distracted. Her mind already on the best makeup for the intrepid Captain Bonner’s babe of the week, no doubt. And if the review board gives you any trouble, you can always call your father. He’s on his boat, so you might have to keep trying if he doesn’t answer. You know how he is.

Yeah. Thanks. Asking her father to intervene was not an option. Mel hung up and sipped her soda. It immediately formed a lump in her stomach. She pushed the bottle away and propped her elbows on the table. The diner was filling up with the mid-morning crowd. Mostly employees of the various government agencies that choked out almost all other forms of life just outside D.C.

Not that she had much room to feel superior, being a government employee herself. For the moment anyway. Whether she stayed that way was now in the hands of the medical review board. Mel felt the knot in her stomach tighten and she had to force herself to stop fidgeting.

Stop worrying. It’ll go fine. Orrin Tabor slid into the booth across from her and took a long pull from her soda. Mel curled her lip in disgust. Good thing I was done with that. He chuckled. Seriously, there’s no way they’re going to boot you. You met all the benchmarks. Besides, the Task Force wouldn’t be the same without you.

Mel shrugged. She’d worked her butt off for almost a year, since the accident that had paralyzed her. First, just to be able to stand. Walking had been its own challenge. The doctors had used nanites to rebuild her, but they took time to tune and train. But she’d done it. After months of pain and exhausting exercises, she could walk, run, and climb every bit as well as she had before. But the review board had been skeptical during her fitness hearing earlier this morning. Didn’t sound like they wanted to hear it. Artifact hunting is not for the infirm, don’t you know.

He snorted. You’re not infirm. Insane maybe, but no way infirm. Hell, you could kick all their asses with your pinky finger, and they know it.

True. She stabbed her finger at him. I can kick yours too, buddy. Best remember that the next time you mooch my soda.

Like you were going to finish it.

Before she could reply, her handheld chirped. She blew out her breath and got reluctantly to her feet. Looks like they’re ready.

Orrin stood. Want me to come? For moral support. Not that you need it.

Thanks. You can stop me from beating them to death if they kick me off the team.

She wished she shared his optimism, but she hadn’t been exaggerating about the review board’s attitude. They’d been condescending and outright dismissive of her progress, calling her a liability to the safety of the team. Dr. Shanks, the head of the panel, had gone so far as to call her selfish. The hostility had blindsided her. Charlie Lansing had all but assured her she would be back on the team if she passed her physical evaluation. And she had. With flying colors.

Maybe the panel was just pressuring her to see if she still had what it took to do the job. Yeah, right.

The review board had taken up a conference room in a nondescript building in the building across the street. She and Orrin were greeted by a young ensign as they entered the lobby. Mel’s stomach twisted in her guts as he ushered her back into the conference room. If Charlie didn’t want to meet her in person, something bad was about to happen. He was never good with confrontation.

The five members of the panel were waiting for her, watching her in stony silence as she took a seat at the head of the table. She cleared her throat and looked around at her tormentors. Charlie looked at his hands and refused to meet her eyes. That told her all she needed to know. Now, she was just waiting for the exact wording.

Shanks steepled her pudgy fingers and glanced at her notes over the rims of her glasses. Agent Cross, she began in her perfunctory, infuriatingly condescending tone. Mel glowered at her. She’d been the one to call her selfish. We have decided not to reinstate your eligibility for field assignments.

Mel clenched her hands together under the table. Why? She tried to keep her voice even despite the sudden desire to yell at them to pull their heads out and give her job back. I’m physically able to work. I have my doctors’ evaluations to prove it.

She’d already been through this during the hearing and it hadn’t mattered. It probably wouldn’t matter now, but she couldn’t let this go without a fight.

The weedy young man beside Shanks—Mel didn’t remember his name—who looked barely old enough to shave, fidgeted in his chair. Your progress was impressive, Agent Cross. No one’s denying that.

Impressive? Cut the BS. What’s really going on here? She looked at Lansing. Come on, Charlie, if you’re firing me, at least have the courtesy to tell me why.

Charlie looked like he wanted to melt into a puddle of goo. Mel, it’s not like that.

What is it like, Charlie? Mel felt the heat rising to her cheeks and she pushed back from the table. Behind her, she heard Orrin’s chair squeak as he got up to try to keep her from doing something she’d regret. Good luck with that. You said I could have my job back if I got back on my feet. I did that. She picked up the binders with the doctors’ statements and tossed them at him, sending them scattering across the table and clattering to the floor. I have about six hundred statements saying so.

Uh, we have questions about the reliability of the nanites, the kid ventured. What if they fail while you’re in the field?

You’re kidding me, right? By the looks on their faces, they weren’t. When have they ever failed?

Shanks spread her hands in helplessness. Your work with the task force puts you in extreme circumstances. We have no idea whether the nanites can stand up to the stress you would be putting them under. She sighed heavily. With the Solaists and the new separatist threat, this is an even greater concern.

Well, that’s just stupid. Nanites don’t make me any more susceptible to bullets. Hell, a Solaist shot Orrin and he doesn’t have nanites. As for reliability, these things are tested under conditions no human being could possibly survive and they do just fine. I’m just as capable of defending myself from Solaists and separatists as anyone else on the team.

We don’t’ have enough data on the nanites, Mel, Charlie said. I know it sounds like a lot of bureaucratic crap, but if something happens, we’ll be up to our necks in lawsuits. He paused, putting on his best sympathetic face.

Charlie Lansing was good at shoveling the bull, and as much as he wanted to come off sincere and innocent in the matter, she had no doubt he was just as responsible for this shaft job as the others.

I’m sorry, Mel, but we can’t take you back. Our hands are tied here. I hope you can understand that. It’s nothing personal.

That’s crap. She wanted to choke him. Go to hell, Charlie. She picked up her purse and handheld and turned to leave the room.

Agent Cross, you haven’t heard all our judgment. It was Shanks. She was looking very smug.

I’ve heard enough.

Shanks continued as if she hadn’t heard her. Recent budget cuts make it impossible for us to keep an inactive agent on the team. I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.

Mel gave her a withering glare. Yeah, glad I stayed around to hear that. Thanks. She left the room, slamming the door for good measure and stormed into the lobby. It wouldn’t change anything, but it made her feel better. Orrin caught up with her before she could get out the door. Hey, you okay?

I just lost my job and my cat is sick, but otherwise, yeah, I’m just peachy. She sighed. She was being unfair. Sorry, I know you didn’t have anything to do with that.

I called Clay and Dana. We’re going to see what we can do to get you back. We could all grab a drink. Plan our next move. He gave her a knowing look. They won’t stand a chance against a Mel Cross Plot."

She shook her head. She appreciated his support, all their support, but chances of changing the ruling were slim at best. It stunk to high heaven of a political favor, which meant no one would touch it. Thanks, but not today. I’m going home to check on my cats. I’ll worry about fighting the Man tomorrow.

She reached her car as sleet began