Chapter 22
Zelup almost forgot to strap the breathing apparatus to his face when he landed on Pallas, so eager was he to rush back to the lab. He skittered to a stop in front of the security panel and tapped in the code.
“Error. Error. Error.” The mechanical voice stabbed at his brain like it was sharpened steel, and Zelup barely held back a scream of frustration. He hit the intercom and tried to infuse his voice with calm.
“Dawn, it’s me. Let me in.”
There was no answer. Teeth gnashing, hands in fists, he was a second away from attacking the door physically.And if that doesn’t work, I’ll get the strongest laser on my ship and burn through the fucker.
Instead of wasting time, he resorted to his powers. Staring at the camera and focusing all of his energy on the recalcitrant doctor, he spoke. “Let me in. Immediately.”
He could feel the power flowing out of him in waves. It was strong, stronger than when he’d forced his way in before. Still, there was no response.
Zelup stared into the camera, a near-wild expression on his face. “If you don’t open this fucking door right now, by all the gods in the seven known galaxies, I will find a way to blast it down. And when I do—”
The door opened. He raced inside, his blood close to boiling, ready to do battle with whatever danger the oracle and his sister had warned about.
But there was only Ladee to greet him, his expression bland.
“What’s going on?” he asked the robot, his gaze scanning the room.
The fox adjusted his top hat. “Nothing too exciting. Did you get the Chromium-137?”
Squatting down to meet the robot eye to eye, Zelup shook his head. “They were all out at the Illegal Emporium.”
“Illicit Emporium,” Ladee corrected, coughing politely into his hand. “A shame.”
“Cut the shit, Ladee,” Zelup growled. “Where is Dawn?”
“Dr. Illya has been called away unexpectedly. I will tell her you called.”
He cocked a brow at the little fox. “I thought she had to constantly monitor existing levels or risk losing the experiment.”
Ladee shrugged. “It was an emergency. And as you failed to bring back the Chromium-137, it’s a moot point.”
Zelup stared at him, wishing his powers worked on non-organic lifeforms. “I know there’s no such thing as Chromium-137. Just like I know Dawn’s still here somewhere.”
Ladee’s upper lip twitched, exposing pointed teeth. “Just like I know you’re not a human. I don’t know what you are exactly, as your people have done a good job of erasing any mention of you in the databanks.
The Vartik rose, throwing his hands in the air with a groan of frustration. “Godsdamn it, Ladee, we don’t have time for this. I’m not a spy for the Hills. I mean no harm toward your creator. But I am trying to help her. The Great Oracle of Territh has sent me a message. Dawn’s in danger.”
The robot’s shiny black eyes blinked up at him. “Do you have any proof of this oracle? Perhaps a small stripe of paper with some innocuous prediction placed inside of a cookie?”
I’m going to run out of time having an argument with an animated stuffed animal. He had to put all of his cards on the table, or he risked losing the Guardian and Dawn both.
“My name is Zelup Vartik. I am next in line for the throne on my planet. Although my people can pass as human, we’re not. We have advanced telepathic powers and are adept at mental manipulation. I’m not here on behalf of the Hills or any other entity. I’m here to find a Guardian of the Goddess of Light.”
The fox took off his top hat, dusted it off, and replaced it atop his furry head. “I’m sorry, but if you’re going to try and convince me you can be trusted, telling another whopper isn’t likely to accomplish your goal.”
“You said it yourself. I’m not human. My people have had to stay hidden because of our powers and the fact that our blood can heal any malady. We would have been hunted to extinction if my father hadn’t found a way of hiding us and erasing our existence from every information source he could.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” the robot said. “She’s not here. No amount of fibbing will change that.”
“I don’t have time for this!” Turning his back on the robot, he slammed into the storage room to begin his search. The doctor was nowhere to be seen, as a quick and messy scan revealed. Stomping back through the overturned containers and busted equipment, he rushed over to the living quarters.
He noticed the robot following him but Zelup ignored it. The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. The bed was strewn with pillows but there was no sign of her. He forced himself to push away the memories of that perfect night, forced himself to ignore the scent of her that swirled around him.
“Fuck.” Returning to the lab, he checked each bench, every shelf. Coming upon the station covered by a sheet, he ripped it back, exposing a mass of wires and tubes. There was nothing left to search. In a rage, Zelup balled up his fists and raised his arms, intending to rain destruction upon the junk before him.
